Lifebringer (Pharim War Book 6) Page 2

  “Daziel, can you silence us?”

  The lord of shadows nodded. “It is done.”

  Aphlel inclined his head in thanks. “Most likely, nothing is wrong, though I imagine you will be giving a great many apologies to the beast men. I thought you could use my influence to make that easier.”

  Kilos looked from one pharim lord to another, seemingly afraid to speak. Finally, he worked up the courage, though his voice was more high-pitched than normal. “I thought politics and diplomacy were in the dominion of shadows.”

  Aphlel nodded. “They are, more or less, but when relations are damaged, they need to heal. That lies in my area of influence. The dominions are not as separate as we like to pretend they are.” Jez yawned, and Aphlel raised an eyebrow. “You have not been sleeping.”

  Jez rolled his eyes. “I’ve just been having bad dreams.”

  “Me too,” Lina said throwing a half smile at the pharim.

  They walked in silence for a few seconds before Osmund spoke up. “I woke up in the middle of the night transformed.” He cleared his throat. “I meant to tell you about that. My bed got burned up.”

  They all exchanged glances without so much as a chuckle. After a few seconds, Kilos nodded.

  “I’ve had nightmares too.”

  They passed into the city, and the people parted for them. Though Aphlel and Daziel wore human guises, it was impossible to hide the sheer sense of their presence, and it wasn’t long before they had attracted every eye. Jez tried to lead them down streets which weren’t as busy, but now that they had been seen, there was no avoiding attention. Finally, he sighed and took the most direct route to the northern gate.

  “All of you had nightmares?” Aphlel asked. Slowly, they all nodded. “What did you dream about?”

  “The Academy,” Jez said at once.

  As soon as the words had left his lips, his companions were nodding and giving details of their own. The dreams varied greatly, though the one common thread seemed to be the explosion of Mount Carcer and the destruction of the Carceri Academy.

  Aphlel nodded once they were done. “Ah, I see. An event like that could have that effect. If you like, tonight I can come to each of you and set a working on you to help your mind get over the trauma.”

  “That would be greatly appreciated.” Jez said. His friends’ heads bobbed in agreement as they left the border of Randak.

  It didn’t take them long to find where the beast men had camped, though “camped” might’ve been an exaggeration. They had been gathered in a circle with a perimeter of guards. There were no tents or other structures. Some beast men, those closer to their animal side, preferred sleeping under the open sky, but that was hardly all of them. If nothing had been built, it could only be because nothing had been allowed.

  Osmund’s hands became shrouded in flames as they got close, and his voice took on a deep quality that made him sound more like Ziary than Osmund.

  “Not prisoners. Haziel would keep his captured enemies in better conditions than that.”

  Up ahead, Jez could just make out a runner wearing the royal violet talking to one of the guards. The soldier looked confused but shouted an order. Apparently, Haziel had wasted no time because the guards began to form up near their captain, though many threw uneasy glances at the beast men. As Jez approached, the captain saluted, but Jez glared at him until he tugged at his collar. The captain shouted a few orders, and the rest of the soldiers followed him as he marched away. None were willing to meet Jez’s eyes as they passed. Once they were out of earshot, Jez approached those that had been kept prisoner.

  The beast men of Aniel’s valley had been human once, but one of the dangers of using beast magic to transform was that if one stayed too long in the form of an animal, the mind would snap, becoming something that was neither animal nor man and that was hostile to all those around them. Only by finding a form part way between that of a beast and that of a man could their mind find some semblance of balance.

  After a few seconds, the towering form of Galine pushed its way through the crowd. The leader of the beast men had the torso of a man, though it was covered in golden fur. His head was crowned with a thick mane, and he had the lower body of a lion. He moved with the liquid grace of a cat and looked ready to pounce at any moment. Osmund walked up to him and inclined his head. Galine returned the gesture.

  “Osmund.” Sharp teeth showed when the lion man spoke. “How is your other half?”

  “In control,” Osmund said. “I haven’t had an incident since I left you.”

  “Good.” He turned to Jez. “I must say, this is not the welcome I was expecting.”

  Jez nodded. “Sorry. The king was worried people would panic if they saw you. It’s been taken care of.”

  “King.” Galine almost spat the word. “That’s what the guards said. They demanded obedience in his name. How can a man think to rule those he has never seen and does not know?”

  “I’ve been put in charge of everything relating to Sharim,” Jez said. “Daziel decided you fall into that category. I promise nothing like this will happen again. Aniel asked you to come?”

  Galine nodded. “He spoke to us through the stone. Is he...” Galine looked around and spoke softly, though, given the animal senses of many of those behind him, Jez doubted it did any good. “Are things as bad as he says?”

  Jez scanned the beast men behind Galine. “They don’t know?”

  Galine shook his head. “Only a handful of us do. Myself, Welb, Penar, and R’Virdi.”

  Jez raised an eyebrow. “R’Virdi? I don’t know him.”

  “R’Virdi,” a high-pitched voice said from below Jez’s eye level, “Master of the river and king of the otters.”

  Laughter rumbled through the beast men. Jez looked down and stared. The creature stood barely two feet tall and was covered in brown fur that seemed slick despite being dry. A long tail trailed behind its lean body. It stood on two legs, though Jez had the impression it could walk on two or four with equal ease. Like all beast men, he had some features of a person. In this case, it was the face. The snout was slightly elongated, but other than that, it was the face of a man. Jez blinked at him.

  “The king of the otters?”

  R’Virdi shrugged. “As much as otters have a king. They’re pretty happy to play in the river without my guidance, so my job is actually rather boring.”

  For a second, the declaration struck Jez speechless. Eventually, he let out the first words that came to mind. “You’re joking.”

  The otter let out a chuckle that became a full belly laugh that eventually spread to the gathered beast men. “Of course I’m joking. Humans are the only ones foolish enough to have a king.”

  “I...”

  “Who are your friends?”

  Startled, Jez turned. He’d been so caught up in his conversation that he had completely forgotten about the others. Lina and Kilos stared at R’Virdi, apparently struck silent by the tiny otter man. The high lords, on the other hand, looked forward mutely, though Aphlel gave Jez a faint smile when they met gazes.

  “Sorry,” Jez said. “This is Lina. She was with us when we went to the valley.”

  Lina blinked several times before inclining her head. By the time she spoke, she seemed to have recovered from her shock. “Hello.”

  “I’m...” Kilos looked to Jez, as if unsure if he should be speaking. Jez nodded, and the summoner cleared his throat. “I’m Kilos Lufkason. I...” He cleared his throat again. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Likewise,” R’Virdi said, his head bobbing. “What about those grim mages? Masters of the Academy, if their robes are any indication. They don’t seem to be able to smile, which is a dead giveaway.”

  “Mages?” Kilos went pale as he realized who the otter was referring to. “Them? No, they’re...That is, I mean...” He turned to Jez, pleading for help with his eyes, but Lina was already chuckling.

  “Don’t you know?” She gave R’Virdi a wide grin. “Thes
e are Daziel and Aphlel, of the high lords of the pharim.”

  R’Virdi squeaked and fell to all fours. He scrambled back behind one of Galine’s front legs. The lion man, to his credit, remained stoic, though his face twitched, obviously surprised at the revelation. Behind him, growls and squawks of surprise rippled through the beast men. No one bowed. That particular motion had no meaning among the beast men, but their voices carried an obvious reverence. Delighted that she’d been able to so shock them, Lina wore a wide grin.

  “Then, it’s true.” Galine’s voice was almost too soft to be heard.

  “I am afraid so, noble one,” Aphlel said.

  “Will you join us in the city, while we discuss this further?” Daziel asked. “It would be helpful if we could all work together. On top of that, if you were seen to be civilized, it might help to assuage the fear Haziel is so worried about.”

  This time, it was Galine who chuckled. “Civilized?” He showed his teeth. “No, I think not. We left the trappings of that long ago. Even for those of us that lived in the village, civilization is only an illusion, but I take your meaning, lord Daziel. That is, in fact, why R’Virdi is here. He is among our best peace makers.” He looked down at the otter man who was just coming out from behind Galine’s leg, his eyes darting from one high lord to another. “That is, if you’re still willing, of course.”

  R’Virdi scowled at Galine. That expression looked so out of place on the otter, particularly when directed at a being that had to be at least thirty times his size, that it took all Jez had not to burst out into laughter. The tightening around Lina’s lips and the way Kilos went red said his friends were having a similar reaction. Osmund snickered, and it became full on laughter when R’Virdi turned his glare on him.

  “Yes,” R’Virdi practically had to shout to be heard over Osmund’s dying laughter. “I’m still willing.” He sniffed at Osmund. “You know, I remember you from your time among us, and I remember how loud you screamed when you found a mouse in your bedding. I can arrange for that to happen again.”

  Osmund, who had faced more demons than most people could imagine, who had charged the demon lord of nightmares, and stood side by side with Jez as he fought the greatest general of the abyss, paled and took several steps back.

  “Right, sorry,” Osmund said. “Why don’t we go into the city?”

  CHAPTER 4

  “That certainly could’ve gone worse,” Jez said as they passed through the city gate.

  Most of his companions were engaged in conversation with R’Virdi. The otter man perpetually smiled, and his bubbly attitude seemed contagious, though it didn’t touch Jez.

  Aphlel cocked his head at Jez’s words. “Do not make the same mistake Haziel did. They are still human, regardless of Galine’s claims about civilization. They would no more relish in the fall of humanity than you would. They are simply a piece of your kind that has splintered off, a wound that has festered far too long.”

  Jez rolled his eyes. “Do you think of everything in those terms?”

  Aphlel inclined his head. “I am what I am, which is why I am worried about you.”

  Jez glanced at the others, but they weren’t listening. Still, he stepped closer to Aphlel. “Me?”

  “You have been growing darker, Jezreel. You have lost much in recent years, but you more than anyone else, cannot let that destroy you.”

  Jez turned away. “I’m fine.”

  “No, you are not, but truth be told, you cannot be expected to be.” The lord of healing made a gesture to Daziel who nodded. Aphlel’s next words had the odd resonance of a voice hidden by a silence working. “You are, in part at least, human. You have been wounded in a way that even my power cannot entirely undo, but as a human, your ability to heal yourself is far greater than any pharim. You need only allow it to happen.”

  “But what would I have to do?” Jez asked. “Stop prodding at the wound? Ignore Sharim long enough for him to conquer all of creation?” He shook his head. “If I have to be wounded, then I’ll be wounded.”

  Aphlel sighed. “Do what you can.” They neared the center of the city and Aphlel looked down the road that would lead to the manor. He glanced over his shoulder at Daziel before returning his attention to Jez. “We should go. Even in this form, we cannot long escape attracting attention. If you are to begin healing the rift between your kind and the beast men, they must become normal to the people, and that will not happen if they are often seen in our presence. Come find me later. There is still much I would like to discuss with you.”

  Jez nodded, though he found himself feeling intimidated by the gentle lord of healing. “I will.”

  Aphlel inclined his head, though before he raised it, the two pharim lords had vanished. Jez had no idea if they had gone Between or if Daziel had simply hidden them with an illusion. It was nearing sunset, and though there were few people out, the disappearance of the pharim attracted the attention of everyone nearby. Jez reflected that if Aphlel had really wanted to avoid drawing attention, vanishing in the middle of a busy street wasn’t the best idea. It took him a second to realize that people had gone from staring at the spot the pharim had been, to gaping at R’Virdi.

  “Well, it seems they’ve noticed me,” the otter said, drawing whispers from the crowd. “What do we do now?”

  “Clont’s inn?” Osmund asked.

  “It’s a little public, isn’t it?” Jez asked.

  “Isn’t that the point?” Lina asked. “We’re supposed to make it so the people aren’t afraid of the beast men.”

  Jez nodded, pushing back a momentary surge of annoyance. “I guess so.”

  “I think I’ll go back to the manor,” Kilos said, never taking his eyes off of R’Virdi. “I’ve had enough strangeness for one day. Anyway, someone should try to figure out what the workings Dusan left behind do.”

  Osmund raised an eyebrow. “And you don’t consider that strange?”

  Kilos laughed. “It’s a strangeness I can deal with. I’ll let you know what I find.”

  Jez nodded, and the summoner walked down a street in the direction of the manor. A few people watched him go but most stared at the otter man. Osmund shrugged, and Jez led the way to Clont’s inn.

  As soon as they entered, they drew every eye, and the entire common room went silent. One serving girl saw R’Virdi and, with a scowl on her face, started in their direction. She stopped after a few steps and looked up to see Jez’s face. She paled before scurrying into the kitchen. After a few seconds, the innkeeper himself strode into the room. The portly man made his way to Jez, obviously struggling not to stare at R’Virdi, and bowed several times.

  “Good evening, Baron. It is a pleasure, as always.” His eyes flickered to the otter man. “Normally, I don’t allow pets, but for your sake, I can make an exception.”

  “That won’t be necessary, my good man,” R’Virdi said, causing Clont to yelp and jump back. The common room took a collective gasp, but R’Virdi only smiled and continued. “I know Jezreel can be a little slow, but I wouldn’t call him a pet. I do have standards, after all.”

  “Oh my, it’s...” Clont met Jez’s gaze, wringing his apron. “Is it a demon of some kind?”

  “No, just a man,” Jez said. R’Virdi let out a sound that might have been a laugh, but he went silent when Jez glared at him. “A table in the common room will be fine.” He sniffed at the air, and his stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten all day. “And a few bowls of that fish stew I smell.”

  “Oh, of course, Baron.” Once again, his eyes flickered to R’Virdi. “Do you want them all cooked or would, ah, would your friend like his raw?”

  “Actually, I think it would be best if I dove off the dock and caught my own dinner. I can do that and bring it right back in to eat with my friends.”

  Gasps rippled through the crowd, and Clont looked like he was going to be sick. “Ah, I would really prefer if you didn’t.”

  “He’s joking,” Jez said as he shoved R’Virdi with his foot. �
��Weren’t you?”

  R’Virdi inclined his head and gave a wide grin. “As you say. Cooked will be fine.”

  Clont, visibly shaken, led them to an empty table in a corner. None of the nearest ones were occupied, but Jez tried not to read too much into that. R’Virdi hopped into a chair and sat down. It was almost comically oversized, and he couldn’t quite see over the table. After a few minutes, Clont brought him a wooden crate to set upon the chair. R’Virdi chittered at him, and the innkeeper looked to Jez, confused, before bowing and scurrying away.

  “Was that really necessary?” Jez asked after Clont was out of earshot.

  “Of course it was,” R’Virdi said, “unless you think it would’ve been better to let him think of me as an animal.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” Jez said. “Did you really have to make fun of him?”

  R’Virdi considered for several seconds before shrugging. “Maybe not. Still, it’s probably one of the fastest ways to convince him that I’m neither something to fear nor revere. He’s a little overwhelmed right now, but once he has time to think about it, he’ll be more at ease around me. That is why we’re here, isn’t it?”

  Jez was about to ask him what he meant when Clont returned with a tray bearing four steaming bowls, which he set down before each of them. The innkeeper gave R’Virdi and uneasy look, half expecting the otter man to dig in with his bare hands. Instead, he picked up a spoon, holding it exactly like any noble would, though it did look too big. R’Virdi lifted the spoon to his mouth and blew on it before taking a bite. Jez gaped at him, and R’Virdi let out a long breath.

  “You know, if your goal is to convince people to treat us like normal, it would help if you started by not treating me like I’m the strangest thing you’ve ever seen. I know enough about you to know that’s not the case.”

  “Right.” Jez took a spoonful of his own, barely noticing the peppery taste. “Sorry about that. So how is your soup?”