The train car was stifling. The passage through the southern woodlands of Althandor allowed for long straightaways on the rail lines. The steam engine pulled the cars along at a brisk pace, too fast for the windows to be opened without causing a gale within the compartment. Therefore, Krayson sweltered.
Easy to remedy, he thought idly. Single word incantation. Cordek or Ishai would suffice. Alternatively, a two-point single somatic. Fire and abjuration essences. Either method would ward against heat and allow for comfortable temperature.
Through his numbness, Krayson couldn't summon the will to expend the effort. His shirt felt clammy against his skin, damp with sweat, as he sat in the window seat. He hadn't bathed in almost two weeks, not since leaving the Palace of Towers to begin his contract. Likely as not, he stank.
He didn't wear his red half-robe. It was stashed in a travel bag somewhere above him on the luggage racks. He wore a clean shirt, trousers, and suspenders Maya had thrown at his head that morning. Tinted-glass spectacles also, to hide his red eyes from casual inspection.
He sat, unfeeling. But when had it been different? If there had ever been such a time, he couldn't remember it. Thunders, but what it could be to have even a memory of happiness. Only a ghost. Dead, and never to return.
The train crossed the kingdom back and forth along the rail lines. It wasn't an express train and made twice-daily stops in rural villages or waystations. Travel south was taking longer than Starra and Maya wanted, but neither of them were willing to risk exposure to save a few days travel time. The end of the line was coming up, a substantial village near the southern border. Krayson had heard the name Leyrshore being mentioned.
The last seven days since the tower fell had passed in a blur. He listened to Starra and Josy speak of ambiguous plans, to Maya's looming presence, and to Saveen trying to coax him back to life. Krayson listened, but he didn't care to hear. The others no longer felt real to him. Nothing that moved with such purpose and passion could truly exist, and he merely drifted in their wake. Perhaps they were nothing but ghosts, too.
Krayson ate what was placed in front of him, he slept when the light faded, stood and walked to the train car's privy when nature called, and watched the rolling hills and scattered woods of rural Althandor slide past through the window. He didn't speak. Didn't contribute. Most of all, he did not feel.
"Survive, even when it hurts. Especially when it hurts. Survive, and you've won."
Krayson smiled. What his father hadn't understood was that without the hurt, it wasn't worth surviving. How ashamed of his son Joshuan Jak'm would have been.
His dreams were no refuge either. Each night, Krayson dreamt of falling towers and beasts' eyes. Lifeblood and dragons. Sometimes a king appeared in them, one that looked down on Krayson for his lack of power before shaking his head and proclaiming him dead. Krayson wanted to laugh at that. Didn't Cathis know? Krayson had always been dead. He died the night his mother was put on her pyre.
What had walked alone out of Teularon had only been a ghost. The blood magic was just a formality. There'd been nothing left of him for it to take.
Krayson jerked in his seat and put a hand to his cheek. It stung. Thunders, but it hurt.
"Snap out of it!" Saveen shouted at him. "I've had enough of watching you sit there and brood."
Krayson looked up at her. She was in human form and disguised pigmentation, dressed in the clothes he'd bought her and standing with her fists planted on her hips. The thundering lizard had slapped him!
"What are you on about?" Krayson demanded.
Saveen's eyes widened with surprise when he spoke. From the other side of the train compartment, Josy laughed.
"Winds and storms, I can't believe that worked. Hit him again. Maybe he'll take a bath."
The Duchess sat lounging, hands clasped behind her head and feet propped up on the seat opposite her. If Krayson didn't miss his guess, the clothes she wore were another of Saveen's outfits.
"Starra's using the bath car now," Saveen said.
Josy shrugged. "Seems the sort that wouldn't mind company."
"Lady company," Saveen said. "I think Starra's been more than open about that."
Josy snorted. "I'll say. Maya's been stepping lighter than usual ever since the thing in Barrowmire."
Saveen stifled a giggle and plopped down in the seat next to Josy. She picked up lengths of Josy's hair and began working it into a braid. However, her eyes never left Krayson.
With a growing sense of foreboding, Krayson watched them interact. It didn't process. He blinked slowly. "What in the name of the seven thunders happened in Barrowmire?"
Saveen leaned towards him. "It was filthy," she whispered conspiratorially.
Josy sniggered.
They fell against one another, laughing and carrying on like a pair of village girls after their first taste of ale. Krayson didn't care how long he'd been preoccupied, because no matter how he looked at it, this was nothing short of unnatural. Royal assassins and the mighty would never be... friendly... with one another.
His shock was accompanied by an odd sensation. Not a ghost, but just as unfamiliar. It was similar to his ambition, the desire to become greater, but directed outward. Like anger, but not quite so immediate. The emotion boiled, the urge to pull Saveen to his side and keep her there away from anyone else. Possessive. Thunders, it was jealousy.
Saveen was his Bastion. His and no other's.
Trell probably thinks the same thing, Krayson realized. It made him want to punch himself.
Krayson watched as Saveen wove Josy's hair into a thick and intricate braid. She smiled as she worked at it— genuinely smiled— and the jealousy gave way. Krayson found it difficult to hold onto such a feeling when he saw her happiness. He was relieved to see that someone could still be happy.
Relief wasn't quite what Krayson wished he could feel, but it was far preferable to nothing. He wasn't dead. Not yet. Thunders crash on his father's head, but Krayson still survived.
And he still had a promise to fulfill, didn't he?
Krayson stood, accepting the aches in his muscles. He stretched his arms wide, facing the window and gazing out at the rolling landscape before turning his back to it. His movement had drawn the attention of Josy and Saveen. They watched him, the assassin wary and the dragon expectant.
There was a ward on the Merovech's bloodsong, likely placed there by Starra. He could feel it unraveling from the pressure being exerted against it. The spell needed to be renewed.
"—Conceal entrusted blood resonating within. Kept power, separate of me.—"
By using a couplet rather than a single line of five Aeldic words, the spell locked. Starra's ward would unravel itself before long, but his own would persist for some time afterwards. Once that was seen to, he used a somatic to ward himself from the uncomfortable temperature in the compartment. After that was locked as well, he looked up to see Saveen watching him with a look of smug satisfaction.
"I'm glad you're up and about."
"Thank you for insisting," Krayson said with a nod. "Tell me what's happened."
Saveen's expression fell, and Josy looked away with a frown.
"It's bad," Saveen said. "Are you sure you want to hear it?"
"I must."
Saveen sighed. "Althandor is reeling. We got out of the Spired City on the last train before the rail lines were shut down."
"Westrun was devastated," Josy murmured without looking at Krayson. "It wasn't just the Sanguine Tower. Three other spires collapsed before it was over, and no one has a count of how many smaller towers. Elise must have hit the central spar, the spellwrought supporting structure that runs up through each spire in the city, with her pyromantic flare. That's the only way a spire that size could come down."
Saveen shifted in her seat, uncomfortable. "The flare damaged a lot of other towers. Dozens of the farming and pasture platforms across the district broke free. It's... Krayson, they've been saying that tens of thousands of people were killed."
"It'll take months just to dig out all the bodies," Josy whispered, her beast-like eyes haunted. "The Home Legion was wiped out. The magocracy is gone. Winds, but there's likely to be famine before next year because Elise destroyed our agricultural foundation with a single attack. There are half a million goodfolk in the City of Althandor, nine tenths of the kingdom's population, and the outer townships could never produce enough to feed them all." She turned to look at Krayson. "You and a handful of others are the only blood runners still alive. I don't think there are more than five of you left."
Krayson understood what Josy was saying. The people killed by Elise's attack were only the first. Many, many more would die in the months ahead. From starvation, from a shattered infrastructure, from an inability to police restricted magic, and from the response Althandor was sure to make. Elise had declared war against the world.
"The Highest King must recognize the threat Elise poses now," he said.
Josy made an angry sound and looked away. Her lips curled into a sneer.
Saveen shook her head. "Heron Algara tried contacting Maya by sending. She didn't answer it, then Heron tried Josy."
"Uncle believes it was Enfri the Yora who attacked," Josy said. "I told Heron who it was. I blustering told her that I saw Elise with my own eyes. I even said my father was a part of it. She isn't doing anything."
Krayson held his chin in his fingers. "No, I doubt that."
"What was that?" Josy demanded. "What in the embrace of hellfire would you know about any of it."
Krayson ignored her anger and kept his calm. "Heron has no way of knowing which of the assassins are working with Vintus. This journal I've heard you talking about, it mentions Vintus having support but doesn't name names. Think about it. If she brought this to the king, it would force Vintus' hand. Heron recognizes that Althandor won't survive if the royal house starts tearing itself apart right now. The smart move is to let Vintus believe he's avoided suspicion. He will continue on as he has, grow complacent, and Heron can uncover more evidence."
Josy sneered. "I liked you better when you didn't talk."
"Because you think I am wrong, or because you wish I was wrong?"
She glowered. "The second one."
"At the least, you can rest assured that Heron isn't working with your father."
"How can you know that?"
"Heron had every opportunity to betray me to Vintus. She never did, or I'd have been caught within the first day. I am suspicious of your brother, Princess Jin can be safely discounted, but I have no evidence either way for Prince Gain."
"Gain would kill my father if he knew any of this," Josy snarled.
"Then why haven't you contacted him?"
Josy scowled, but didn't answer.
"Because you can't be certain. And for the same reasons you haven't contacted the Highest King. Your house has a long history of taking extreme measures, and that is precisely what is killing the Five Kingdoms right now."
"It's what's preserved the Five Kingdoms," Josy muttered.
"In the short term, perhaps. In arja, you must play the long game, and House Algara is, for many reasons, directly responsible for Elise of Eastrun."
"I definitely liked you better when you were drooling."
"Because you think I am wrong, or..."
"Because I know you're right! Sod off, Blood Runner."
"What of you and Maya? Cathis can't be happy about you running off after what happened."
Josy chewed the inside of her cheek. "Heron won't tell him she contacted me. She promised that much, and we're warding our dreams against oneiromancy. As far as anyone knows, Maya and I are dead."
"Thunders," Krayson whispered.
"What now?" Josy groaned.
"Cathis thinks Maya is dead?" Krayson was surprised by how weak his voice sounded. "She was the last child he had."
Her face became stricken. It was plain she hadn't considered that. Josy stood and put her hand to the compartment's sliding door. "I... need to find Maya."
"However the Highest King is affected, it's for the best that he won't come looking for you. That is, if you still intend to come south."
Josy paused. "I need to see Jin. Winds, we need her."
She slid the door open and stepped out. As soon as Josy was gone, Krayson sat across from Saveen and looked at her direct.
"You understand that leading royal assassins to the Lady Yora will do little to ingratiate us to her. It's probable that Maya and Josy intend her harm, whether to free Princess Jin from her or out of ingrained prejudice against Aleesh."
Saveen gave him a flat look. She held it for an uncomfortably long moment before giving her response. "You have some nerve," she said. "The utter gall."
Ah. Right. It seems I do.
Krayson's eyes were downcast. "I'm sorry, Saveen. I should have told you everything about my contract and who the Merovech named. You deserve better from me. I'm sorry."
The air was driven out of his lungs when she threw herself against him. Krayson assumed she was attacking at first, but her face was buried in his chest as she clung to him. "I don't care about that," she said, sniffling. "You think I don't understand? I do. I'd never blame you for not wanting to get involved. Not for me, or for the king, or for anyone."
"Then, what is...?"
"You went back to look for me. Again! Who do you think you are? You're not my Sapphire Knight, but you still tried to find me. Because you did, she made you..."
Saveen broke down and wept, her tears dampening Krayson's shirt.
"Of course I went back," Krayson said, putting his arms around her.
"Why?" Saveen sniffed again and regained a measure of control over herself. She stayed nestled against him. "Flames, you're not in love with me or something, are you? That's sick."
In love? Absolutely not. Krayson had never seen any appeal in romance, and the notion of physical intimacy repulsed him. But, he did feel— truly feel— something for Saveen. If he was finally being honest with himself, Krayson knew that she was what he had wanted all along.
"You're my friend," Krayson said. "I've never had one before."
She started blubbering again. "Shut up. You can't say things like that. Making me cry, you monster."
Krayson reached up to the luggage rack and tugged down a handkerchief from Starra's handbag. He offered it to Saveen. She snatched it and dabbed at her eyes.
"How long until we reach the next stop?" Krayson asked.
Saveen blew her nose, then slid into the seat next to him as she answered. "Not long."
"Enough time to learn an incantation or two?"
He heard how her breath caught. "Really?"
"I've been an inexcusably poor master so far, and there are other things I promised to tell you about."
She blew her nose again. The rate she was going, Krayson could sell that hanky for a king's ransom, considering all the dragon mucus going into it. Surely, there must have been a market for that sort of thing. "About blood magic."
"You might know something of what it is already."
"It's using lifeblood."
"Yes. It doesn't follow the normal rules for reagents. Alchemists and wizards aren't the only ones who can use it. Scriveners, witches, and sorcerers also. Ether is held in your blood, and that is what a blood mage is doing. They're pulling the ether direct from the source. It's a burst of power, everything the lifeblood's owner has. But it is more than just their remaining ether. It's their potential ether. If I took someone's lifeblood, it would be amplified by a magnitude equal to all the ether their blood could possibly hold."
Krayson paused to make sure she understood before continuing. "A trained blood mage can also make use of their own blood."
"Like you did with that rune on your hand when we met?"
"Yes, exactly. Normally, there is a... resistance... to spellcraft, particularly for sorcerers. Less so for witches like us. It's just the way natural laws interact with ether, like an arcane friction. A small portion of the ether you expend to cast a spell is wasted. This is often inconsequential, and most arcanists wouldn't necessarily be aware of the difference. However, by using your own blood, there is no waste at all. Everything goes direct from your stores to the spell, and it provides a sizable increase to your magic's potency. Even so, it's difficult to control how much you're drawing from yourself. That makes it very dangerous, and the Order frowns... frowned... on it."
Saveen had graduated from blowing her nose to just wiping it. She was settling herself, which was a comfort to see.
"It almost killed you," she said. "Without healing through our bond, it might have."
"Yes. In my defense, it was a tense situation. Both primary uses are why it's said blood magic is so powerful. Not only taking and bestowing bloodsongs, but countless other things. You could even heal a person from the brink of death by directly transmuting their body."
Krayson heard a scuffing noise from outside the compartment. He turned his head, but he saw only the empty train car corridor through the frosted glass window. He leaned forward to stand, but Saveen drew his attention back to her.
"It sounds like blood magic can do a lot of good."
Krayson sat and looked back at her. "It can, but there are costs. You would damage the person you were trying to heal by altering the essences within their prime imprint, what most people think of as the soul. They would wake up as... someone else. Someone, more often than not, irrevocably insane. Their body would be alive, but the person they were would be gone."
Saveen sobered, and her expression became grim. "If they died, they're soul..."
"I've heard many theologies say that the damage wouldn't carry into the Beyond, but... it's not as if we can know for sure what lies in the next world. Additionally, their ether would suffer the same transformation as a blood mage's. Their eyes would turn red, and they would face the same consequences. I believe something similar is what happened to you when Elise forged our bond. My imprint tainted yours, like one rotten fruit in the basket contaminating the rest."
Saveen sat straight and looked ahead. She took in a bracing breath and let it out. "So, I'm a blood mage, then. Alright. You said there were consequences, and you've talked before about the things you've had taken from you. What happens to us?"
Taking her arm, Krayson held it outstretched in front of them. "Your imprint, your soul, now has a flaw. Just like your blood is pumping through your arm, ether will move through these cracks in your prime imprint. There are things I can teach you, spells and techniques, that will use these cracks to your benefit." He lay her arm back down. "You know how I was imprisoned? I wasn't given food or water for many days. There are spells woven through the flaws in my imprint that allow my body to draw sustenance from my ether. To maintain this spell, you'll find that you will need to eat a lot more than usual. Blood runners are also notoriously hard to kill. We can be mortally wounded and even appear to be dead, but these blood-woven spells have only placed us into a manner of stasis as our bodies heal."
A smile quirked at the corner of Saveen's mouth. "That sounds a lot like a blue dragon, actually. Remember? We can keep fighting after our heart's stopped beating."
"As you say." He looked down, reluctant to tell the next part. "These flaws are also behind our lost emotions. Essences that used to be a part of our prime imprint slowly degrade over time. It varies, one blood mage to the next, which exact emotions fade and disappear, but we all lose something. And... they can never come back."
Saveen nodded sadly. "You lost your ability to grieve, so when you... When Elise... Something inside you reached for that emotion, but there was nothing there. Just..."
"Just a ghost," Krayson said. "I'm sorry if I worried you."
Saveen held his hand. "From now on, I won't be surprised when you come for me, so don't be surprised if I ever do something stupid for you."
The warmth in Krayson's chest was unexpected. Disconcerting and strangely familiar. However, before he had much of an opportunity to consider the sensation, the compartment door slid open with a bang.
Starra's expression was livid as she tore off her veil. Her upper lip curled in distaste. "I've lost faith in humanity."
"Excuse me?" Saveen said.
Starra was dressed simply, something Krayson never thought to see from her. Her dress was made of sturdy cotton and was the sort one would expect to find on an Althandi farm girl, shawl over her head and everything. The skirt flared about Starra's calves as she tossed herself into the compartment's seats.
"Have these backwater bumpkins never seen an Irdish woman before?" Starra demanded. "I was offered sun balm three times while passing through the coach cars. Excuse you all, but we handle the sun perfectly well in Irdruin. We're not albinos."
"I thought you were from Japax," Saveen said.
"My holdings are in Japax. I was born in Irdruin, raised and educated in Gaulatia, and apprenticed in Althandor. But you already knew that last part."
Krayson raised an eyebrow. "It is my understanding that albinism is stigmatized in Irdruin, as the local theology considers it a lack of inborn Blessings. A stark contrast to Melcia where albinos are revered and their social status elevated."
Starra gave a tiny start. "Bloody Hell, he's talking."
"The 'bumpkins' were offering kindness to a stranger," Krayson said, pointedly ignoring her comment. "Most would have that renew their faith in humanity."
"In decency and altruism, perhaps," Starra retorted, "and I'll concede the point. However worldliness is just as important. How many wars might have been averted by a better understanding of foreign peoples?"
Saveen pursed her lips in incredulity. "War over sun balm?"
Starra winked at her. "Irdish women are delicate creatures, dear one."
"You aren't an Irdish woman," Krayson said, frowning. "You're not even human. How can you stand the sun at all without turning to ash?"
"Rude," Starra said, though it had no edge to it. "As I said, I'm more human than not. You shouldn't give any credence to what you might read in printsheet serials about vampires."
"A wooden stake through the heart won't kill you?" Krayson asked.
Starra wrinkled her nose. "Wouldn't it kill you?"
Krayson blushed.
"I'd like to know more," Saveen said eagerly. "If you don't mind, that is. Is it true that vampires live for thousands of years?"
"Millennia may be a stretch, dear one."
"How long?" Saveen was all but bouncing in her seat. "Were you alive during the Nadian Rebellion?"
"Well, yes, but that wasn't all that long ago."
"The fall of Shan Alee?"
"Dear one, I'm twenty-seven," Starra said patiently.
Krayson grunted. "How long have you been twenty-seven?" he asked under his breath.
"Since last Month of Wheat. What sort of asinine question is that?" She peered down her nose at Krayson. "I realize a blood runner eats more than most mortals, but really, Brother Joshuan? Both your feet?"
Krayson blushed again, feeling an utter fool.
Starra's attention landed on Krayson and Saveen's clasped hands. "So, making amends, are we? How nice. I passed the duchess leaving the car. Where is she off to?"
Krayson thought Josy would've been long gone by now. "To speak with Her Highness."
A lascivious gleam appeared in Starra's eyes at the mention of Maya. The look vanished as soon as it appeared. "While I am— for lack of a better word— pleased to see you recovering, Brother Joshuan, I confess to a measure of apprehension. I was confident in my ability to deliver a catatonic to Ecclesia. A walking, talking blood runner commanding impossible powers and a penchant for slipping away, somewhat less so." She leaned forward, fixing Krayson in place with the intensity of her stare. "I would like some assurances. You're carrying all that remains of my teacher and friend, after all. What are your intentions?"
"The masters of the Order are dead," Krayson stated.
"Precisely. Which means that the masters cannot use blood magic to assure your obedience anymore."
"You misunderstand, my lady," Krayson said in a calm voice. "The masters are dead. Therefore, no one else is able to deliver the Merovech's bloodsong to Enfri the Yora. It must be me, so I will."
Starra arched an eyebrow. "Oh? That's a dramatic change from the last time we spoke of this."
"Circumstances have changed," Krayson said quietly. "I have reconsidered."
Starra watched him. Her expression had sympathy in it. The sight of it caused a sense of shame to worm into Krayson's thoughts. A man of the Horde would rather die than accept the pity of a woman.
I'm not a part of the Horde anymore, Krayson told himself, and the remainder of that thought was spoken aloud. "I am a blood runner, and so long as I am alive, the Order will honor its contracts."
Starra smiled, a hint of her fangs showing. "Good," she purred. "Very good. I choose to believe you, Brother Joshuan. Now, do try and keep those spectacles on. The train was pulling up to Leyrshore when I came in, and we wouldn't want our eyes to give the goodfolk a fright."
"One last thing, my lady," Krayson said.
Starra paused, halfway to her feet. She sighed. "If you must know, I can cross running water and I can enter dwellings uninvited."
"Not anything like that," Krayson said. "You're a mage slayer, aren't you?"
Starra lowered herself back into her seat. "A colloquialism, but yes. I know how to use a Dekaam."
Krayson looked to Saveen. He received her nod of approval. "Can you use it on us? Could you forcibly unlock our bond?"
"Oh," Starra said in quiet surprise. "I was under the impression that... Why would you want me to?"
"He's not my Sapphire," Saveen said, "and Krayson wants to be powerful on his own, not because he has help."
That was what Krayson had told her, and he was grateful that she remembered it. And yet, his ghosts made themselves known when he heard that reasoning. They whispered to him that it wasn't true.
No. I know it's true. I don't want to be bound to her like this.
His ghosts settled and accepted that.
Starra shook her head. "I'm sorry, dear one. I could sever your bond now, but it would be dangerous. It would be too easy to cause permanent damage. You understand, Brother Joshuan? I may rupture one or both of your imprints."
Krayson felt a stab of fear. All seven thunders, but he would rather die than suffer that. The Order raised him on horror stories of arcanists getting permanently drained of most or even all of their ether, like water leaking from a cracked mug.
"You should wait," Starra advised. "I would be much more confident separating you if there was a bond forger on hand to ease the process. If this is what you both want, I believe the Lady Yora will help."
Saveen watched Krayson's reaction, or lack of one. "Is that alright?"
"If that's the case, then so be it," he said. "Another reason for you and I to reach her."
Saveen gave Krayson's hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. She stood up and pulled a bag from the luggage racks. As she did, Krayson felt the train car shift underneath him. The brakes were beginning to press lightly on the wheels, slowing the train as it approached the end of the line. Outside the window, the empty hillsides were giving way to cultivated farmlands.
Starra gestured for Krayson and Saveen to follow her out of the compartment. "Come along, dear ones. Let us collect our assassins and disembark."