“Fine then, a dozen calderas.” She waves her hand impatiently.
“Why have a dozen weak ones when you can combine them into a single, more powerful Song?”
“Wielded by you?” She raises a brow.
“I have the unique experience to do so.”
Nikora scoffs. “You can control these men’s Songs with your voice, correct? Their blood spells are already attuned to you. So you control them, and my spell controls you. It’s all the same to me.”
You stiffen. “So, you plan to carve a blood spell into me so that you can control the blood spellIcarved intothem?” You chuckle, derisively. “That’s many levels of separation from the original spell. The results might be… unpredictable.”
Her smug look melts away.
“And since you’re familiar with blood magic,” you continue, “I don’t need to remind you what that sort of dilution of intention can do. Controlling this many with the blood is a delicate proposition. To do it once removed, and with an unwilling intermediary…” You spread your hands and shrug. “It took me nearly eighty years and hundreds of men to perfect the method of control. Not all of my generals could do it. But please, be my guest. You will definitely need more than these few. Working out the kinks in your method will kill ninety percent of them before you even begin to master control.”
You watch her carefully, taking in the micromovements of her expression. She doesn’t give much away, but you are used to watching people for dissent or agreement and see when she begins to understand your words. She’s probably been experimenting with your people while you’ve been imprisoned. Perhaps she began with more men and these are all who are left.
“So what do you suggest?” she says through gritted teeth.
The cold of your cheeks aids in holding back a smile. “An alliance. I need not be your prisoner if I can be your ally.”
She narrows her eyes. “Do you think me stupid? I could never trust you. You were far too powerful for too long to be able to ‘ally’ with anyone.”
“But here I am at your mercy. For food, clothing, all the amenities of life, I require you and your people. Not a position I am used to being in, certainly. So I can liberate their Songs for you. Then whatever it is you wanted them to do, I will do—with the benefit of centuries of mastery.”
She tilts her head in thought. “If I allow you the use of blood magicandtheir Songs, you would be back to conquering, and I would not get what I want. No, you must do your part without magic of any kind. Command them to do what we want using the blood spell already in place. Then we will see if you are a worthy ally.”
You grimace internally, disappointed to be limited in such a fashion, but finding her a worthy adversary. There are still ways to turn this to your advantage.
Nikora nods almost imperceptibly at the guard standing just behind you. He grasps you around the waist in a painful hold and Nikora produces a bone-white knife from inside her coat. One of her steely hands grips your wrist and you freeze—her touch burns and you realize you may have underestimated her.
She carves a mark into your forearm and the blazing fire of the knife’s tip makes you wonder if it was dipped in poison. There are ways to use poison in blood magic, but you never bothered to master them. The low, guttural words she speaks are in the language of the blood. A spell of obedience and restriction from causing harm. Not sealed with pain, but with a string of words you do not know. Alarm courses through you.
“There, now we are allies,” Nikora says, releasing you. “You control the Wailers and do what I instruct you, or you will suffer.”Her tone is perfectly pleasant but her eyes are hard. “Pain is only the beginning of misery. And since you are hardheaded, I suspect that you will quickly discover that. Afterward, we will see.”
You grit your teeth as she spins away. Yes, we will see. For nothing, no blood spell, no enemy, no foreign type of magic will stop you from reclaiming what is rightfully yours.
Back in the parlor, a moderately effectual fire roars. You are seated on the chair that creaks under your sleight weight. Nikora lounges on her bench, clad in red as ever, sipping a steaming cup of tea.
Your cup sits on the table next to you, too hot to drink. “What do you want me to command the Wailers to do?” You have always believed curiosity to be a weakness, but right now, knowledge is strength.
“What do you know of the Physicks, Eero?” She seems to know the use of that name irritates you, though you strive not to react.
“None of the emissaries you sent ever deigned to seek an audience with me,” you reply tartly. “I found Ydaris when she was little more than a child, and offered her a chance at more than you all ever did. I know you create medallions that can mimic Songs, that your amalgam magic combines Earthsong, Nethersong, and blood magic.”
Nikora grins enigmatically and sips her scalding tea. “We are an order both ancient and holy. When our patron, Saint Dahlia, walked the earth, she met many from all over the globe. She was a proponent of health and her followers were the first physicians. But after her passing on, the Physicks were lost. We did not understand why when we worked to banish illness and promote life and health, death had to constantly intervene. And so it was proposed that we stop it.” She pauses, expectant.
“Stop what?”
“Death.” Her eyes sparkle mischievously. “There is a way to live forever. To become one with the spirits who hover at the edge of dreams. All we are searching for, all we have ever been searching for, can be found via the wisdom of those who have already passed over. The portal we will open to the World After will allow us to commune with the spirits and discover the secrets of eternal life.”
You had thought her cunning and wily, but perhaps she is just mad. “Impossible.”
“Oh, quite possible. We have gained many insights from individual spirits over the years, enough to know that they can avoid the Eternal Flame and exist indefinitely in the World After. While the Flame still pulls the majority of the dead into it, a few resist. It is difficult, but mastery of the technique will provide an important link in the chain of immortality.”
“Did you not try such a thing before with disastrous consequences?”
She looks surprised that you know anything, but your sister insisted on visiting you daily, telling you the news of the day, including what had happened when the Physicks had first attempted to commune with the spirits.
