Concordance Page 2

  “All lies.” He paused, then murmured under his breath, “Mostly.”

  “How so?” Hastings asked.

  Caiden shook his head. “I have nothing to explain to you. And what would it matter? You’ve got your retirement to look forward to. If you please, I’d like to be returned to my cell.”

  Hastings raised an eyebrow. “Back to the Pit, eh?” He gestured at the table of food. “I’ve got a mighty feast here, I was hoping you’d be good enough to join me. I imagine the scraps of hardtack they throw down to you poor sods aren’t particularly palatable. It isn’t much more than flour and water.”

  Caiden felt his mouth watering at the thought of getting his first real meal in weeks. He’d lost a significant amount of muscle mass in a very short amount of time, and it was beginning to show. He must’ve looked like a ragged twig. Still, he resisted the urge.

  “I’m not going to play your games,” Caiden said.

  “No games,” Hastings said. “Sit. Eat. Tell me of your innocence.”

  “I didn’t say I was innocent. I said I wasn’t guilty of those crimes. I’m guilty of others.”

  “Everyone’s guilty of something. If you won’t decide which nation should get you, then I’d at least like to make an informed decision. It will be several days before we reach the Strait of Sivion and I have to decide which kingdom to sail to. In the meantime, tell me of how you came into my company.” He raised a brass goblet. “And earn a good meal, and fine wine in return. You lose nothing.”

  “Drop the charade,” Caiden snapped. “You’re not a benevolent captor, and I’m not a halfwit. If Magister Ross wants to get answers out of me, she can do it herself.”

  There was a long, uncomfortable bout of silence. Captain Hastings sighed hard, leaning back in his chair before turning toward one of the back doors to speak. “Lady Ross, if you would.”

  The doorknob stirred, and Amelia Ross herself appeared from the other room. She was exactly as Caiden remembered her, down to the last detail. She wore a strange mixture of robes and armor, the standard uniform for a high-ranking magister. The outer parts of her robes were gold and blue, and made of some sort of thin metal. The inner part was blue cloth, laced and buckled around the sides of her stomach. She stepped into the cabin, glaring at Caiden with a smoldering menace.

  Caiden laughed out loud. “You contemptable bitch, I knew you had something to do with this.”

  Hastings made a downward motion with his hands. “Now, now, there’s no need for that.”

  “Take me to Celosa,” Caiden said hastily. “They’ll execute me, sure. But this woman—” He nudged toward her with his restraints. “She’ll torture me to death.”

  “Why?” Hastings said.

  “She wants the Corelight, and she’ll do anything to get it.”

  Hastings squinted. “Corelight?” He looked back at Magister Ross. “Is this the device you mentioned?”

  Magister Ross nodded. “It is. An ancient and powerful relic of the Old Gods. The Magisterium would very much like to have it.”

  “Bullshit,” Caiden said. “You’d like to have it. And I stood in the way of that, so she decided to ruin my life.”

  “I’m not responsible for the choices you’ve made, Professor,” Ross said, tilting her glasses down. “I didn’t force you to betray the Acamedria. Nor did I threaten you into joining the Corelight Expedition. By all accounts, you did those things yourself. All that I could abide, but your theft of the Corelight can’t go unchallenged.”

  “Theft?” Caiden scoffed. “How can I steal something that doesn’t belong to anyone? The Corelight sat untouched for thousands of years.” He looked to Hastings. “This is the hubris of the Magisterium. She’s accusing me of stealing something she was planning to steal first. The sheer mental gymnastics required boggles the mind.”

  Captain Hastings interrupted before Magister Ross could respond. “This Corelight. What is it, exactly?”

  “I already told you,” Ross began.

  “Not you,” Hastings said. “I want him to explain it to me.”

  Caiden took a step forward. “It’s a primordial magic that shaped the world. An artifice of the Old Gods that forged Arkos itself. It controls everything around us. The air. The water. The storms. The sea itself.”

  “It controls the weather?” Hastings asked.

  “It can…but that’s not exactly the heart of its purpose. It controls the motion of the world. The energies all around us.” Caiden fumbled, trying to find the right words. “There’s a reason it was hidden away by the Old Gods. If it were ever weaponized, it could kill every man, woman, and child on Arkos.”

  “In the wrong hands, perhaps,” Magister Ross said.

  “You are the wrong hands,” Caiden said.

  “The Magisterium wishes only to study it. Seeking and preserving artifacts from the Old World is what we do, and we’re exceedingly efficient at it.” She turned to address Captain Hastings. “But, as I said, this man took it upon himself to betray our confidence for his own ambitions. He took the Corelight for himself.”

  Caiden burst out laughing. “Gods below, if I had the Corelight, do you think I’d be tied up on this ship? Are you that dense?”

  “Clearly, you’ve hidden it away,” Magister Ross said.

  “Is what he says true?” Hastings asked. “Will he face torture if I turn him in to the Magisterium?”

  Magister Ross meandered a bit. “Of course, we’d try to learn the location of the Corelight. But there would be no lasting damage, I assure you.”

  “You can wipe your ass with her assurances,” Caiden said.

  Hastings paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts. “You say you’re innocent of the crimes you’re accused of?”

  “Yes, but since when does innocence mean a damned thing anymore? I don’t expect a trial to be particularly equitable to me, no matter where it’s held.”

  Captain Hastings stood, and went to the window. He was silent for a long time, peering out, watching his crew in the pattering rain. Finally, he turned and spoke directly to Ross.

  “My father was an honest merchant, the very picture of respect. He worked running spices from Shin to Celosa—not grand work, but it put food on the table. When I was thirteen, we were boarded by the Celosan navy. They thought my father was smuggling weapons. He was beat and tortured for three days before they finally released him and our ship. He was never quite the same after that.” Hastings gave a sickly frown.

  “Your father was innocent,” Ross said. “This man is not. I told you of his crimes in detail.”

  “Aye, you did. But you left out some key details on the Corelight, which gives me pause.” Captain Hastings set a hand on Caiden’s shoulder. “I will give you this one chance. Sit in that chair, and tell me your story.”

  Caiden fumbled his words. “I… I don’t…”

  Magister Ross looked like Hastings had lost his mind. “You can’t possibly be serious. You’d pit the word of a condemned criminal against that of a magister?”

  Hastings frowned. “Honestly? Everything about you screams ‘liar’ to me, my lady.”

  “How dare you.” Ross seethed. “Do you know who you’re talking to?”

  “In fact, I do,” Hastings said. “I’m talking to someone a long way away from the Magisterium.” He looked to Caiden. “This is your last chance. My mercy has limits. This offer will not be extended again.”

  Caiden locked glances with Magister Ross. In that moment, he felt all the smoldering enmity in his soul swell to the top. He bit his lip, and moved toward the table, taking a seat.

  “You want the truth?” Caiden asked Hastings.

  “That’s all. From the beginning, if you please.”

  Caiden wiped the dirt from his face with a cloth napkin, and reached for a goblet of wine. He finished it off, and felt a rush of relief run through his body. He hadn’t realized just how thirsty he really was until that moment.

  Hastings stood. “Eat and gain some strength. I’ll be
back in a moment.” He started toward the door, and motioned Magister Ross to follow. “If you would, my lady, I’d like to have a word.”

  Chapter Two

  Magister Amelia Ross

  “You’re playing a dangerous game, Captain,” Ross said as they exited the cabin into the rain. The deck was dark and wet, lit only by the moonlight and a few dim oil lanterns. “Putting your ship in jeopardy for one man is bold, to say the least.”

  Captain Hastings paused mid-step, and pivoted around. He moved mere inches from her face, and when he spoke, spit struck her cheek. “Is that a threat?”

  “It’s an observation,” Ross said, not backing down. “I know your kind, Captain. A big fish in a small pond. The master of your little corner of the world. Let me tell you something: Caiden Rycroft will be coming to the Magisterium one way or another. Whether you give him freely, or not. We’ll take him from the Celosans themselves, if needs be. The only question that remains is whether or not you will get paid for the trouble. And trust me, being out of favor with the Magisterium would be very… detrimental… to your business.”

  Captain Hastings looked at Ross with a disgusted smile. “Now, that’s a threat.”

  “You’re right, it is,” Ross said without any particular inflection.

  “And if I gave the prisoner to you, I’d make enemies of Celosa Edûn. I don’t see how I come out of this unscathed.”

  Ross moved toward the side of the ship, and looked over at the crashing waves and churning sea. “Have your little story time with Caiden if it clears your conscience. But consider your next course of action very carefully.” She glanced back at him. “My enemies don’t last very long. Don’t make yourself my enemy.”

  Something about how Ross said this piqued Captain Hastings’ curiosity. He moved to stand beside her. “What else is this about?”

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Ross said.

  “Are you afraid of what he might say? Afraid word of his story will make it back to the Magisterium, and tarnish your good name?”

  Ross took her glasses off, and wiped the rainwater off with her sleeve. There was something in the motion, a momentary nervousness that Hastings took note of. “The word of a condemned criminal won’t hold much sway among my peers, if that’s what your simple mind is getting at.”

  Hastings’ temper flared, but he quickly suppressed it. Despite his misgivings about the woman, he knew better than to try anything against a magister. Magisters were the highest class of sorcerers in the world. Not only trained in combat and tactics, most held genius-level intellects. A single magister could kill a dozen men, and despite Amelia Ross’ short stature and thin build, one did not ascend to her level in the Magisterium without merit.

  At the same time, Hastings knew that even she was bound by certain rules. Captain Hastings and his crew were licensed and under the protection of the Celosan senate—for the time being, anyway. Attacking him or sinking his ship would certainly be seen as an act of war against Celosa Edûn, one that the Magisterium would want to avoid. Still, it was a dangerous game, but Captain Hastings was prepared to play, if needed.

  “The man has a point,” Captain Hastings said. “He’s not an Endran subject, and how can you claim he stole something from you, if it wasn’t yours in the first place?”

  Ross tapped her fingers along the ship’s railing. “It’s simple. We contracted him for a job. He not only failed to deliver, but he stole the very thing we were searching for.”

  “If you believe he’s hidden the Corelight, then perhaps listening to his story is the best course of action. Torture may or may not work, it depends on the man, but one thing I know is that we are all fallible. His story might offer clues to where he hid it. In the end, you might get what you want without having to destroy the man himself.”

  Captain Hastings walked back toward his cabin, leaving Magister Ross staring out at the sea. She peered out, almost hypnotized by the rolling water. Overhead, clouds churned, with only a few breaks letting in starlight and moonlight. The air was cool, and the night was perfect.

  When she turned, she took in the sight of the crew working. The rain falling. The sails billowing in the breeze. As the door closed behind Captain Hastings, Ross felt her fingers dig into the wood grain of the handrail. She felt it crack and crumble beneath her fingertips as if it were a clot of brittle earth, rather than treated hardwood.

  It was in that moment she realized she might have no choice. If Hastings wouldn’t comply, she’d have to take Caiden Rycroft by force.

  Chapter Three

  Ancient Ruins

  Caiden felt like a wild animal as he tore into the food in front of him. He scarfed down buttered rolls in one swallow, tore into pork pies, and ate entire apples, cores and all. Were it not for Captain Hastings arriving, he might’ve eaten himself into an early grave.

  When Captain Hastings entered, his glance darted briefly around the room, the table, and finally back to Caiden. “Interesting,” he said as he made his way to his chair.

  Caiden took a brief pause from his eating. “What’s interesting?”

  Captain Hastings ran his fingers across his beard thoughtfully. “I was gone for a good five minutes. Fourteen pieces of silverware, eight bottles that could be made into a weapon, a letter opener, five ceremonial blades on the walls, three loose nails in your chair, not to mention a myriad of glass you could use to fashion a weapon, and yet I return to see it all very much intact.”

  Caiden swallowed. “You were right in what you said. No point in trying to kill you.”

  “True, but desperate men rarely hold to logic and reason.”

  “I’m not a desperate man,” Caiden said, stone-faced.

  “I believe that,” Hastings said. “In this line of work, one meets a lot of desperate men.” He pointed to his face. “It’s the eyes, you see. Even those that appear calm and confident… their eyes betray them. In the eyes, you see the true nature of a man. The beast inside, that will do anything—anything—to survive. I don’t see that in you. I see fire. I see drive. You don’t look like a man who believes he’s going to be executed in a few days.”

  “Is there a question in there?” Caiden asked.

  “No, simply an observation. In any case, I don’t think Magister Ross will be joining us for some time.”

  Caiden gave a disgusted look. “Amelia Ross. I thought she was a colleague back then, a friend, even. I was the one who sent word to the Magisterium about what we’d found.”

  Captain Hastings gave a confused look, and Caiden realized he was going too fast. “All right,” Caiden said. “If I’m going to tell this story, I’m going to do it properly: from the beginning.”

  _____

  I remember being rather unimpressed when I heard the news about a set of ruins being discovered on the southern coast. Not that I didn’t care—I was an archaeologist, after all, and uncovering ancient ruins was my life’s work. Still, the countryside was filled with ancient structures dating back to the founding of Celosa.

  The life of an archaeologist is not a lavish one. I was allowed an office and small staff at the Acamedria—the premier educational institute of the Celosan capital—and we worked tirelessly to catalogue every find. My teams weren’t looking for old clay pots, or crumbled statues, no. We had one goal, and that was to find Old God artifacts amongst the clutter.

  At least, that was our stated goal, but in the eight years I’d been at the Acamedria, we’d never once found a piece of Old God magic. Nothing. Contrast that with the Magisterium across the sea who uncovered new artifacts every year, and you can see why our department was a bit of a joke.

  Even so, I loved it. Unearthing things that nobody had laid their eyes on in millennia was a thing of beauty to me. Seeing old cultures in new ways, and learning about people long forgotten—it was my passion. I even kept in frequent contact with the Magisterium, exchanging more than a dozen letters with Magister Ross, Magister Veldheim, and their chief archivist, Miss Moira Wayw
ick.

  From their letters, I assumed they were all like me. Academics and intellectuals with a passion for history. Little did I know their true intents had nothing to do with history. They wanted weapons.

  But I’m getting ahead of myself. As I said, I was less than ecstatic about another site to slog through, but my assistant, Tiffin Langdon, was so excited when she entered my office that she looked ready to burst.

  She was a thin, waifish girl, no older than seventeen. She was Celosan to her bones, with fair skin, bright hazel-colored eyes, and thick black hair tied into a ponytail that hung over her shoulder. She was only nine years my junior, but always made me feel like an old man. She had energy and drive to spare, and when she was excited, it was sometimes difficult to follow her ramblings.

  I was taking pencil sketches of a pre-dynastic Rulosan urn when she burst in.

  “Professor Rycroft,” she exclaimed, almost making me drop the urn. “You’re never going to believe it.”

  I looked up, setting the urn down gently. “Believe what?”

  “Headmaster Trebellius wanted me to tell you this in person. You know the new aqueduct they’re building? The workers found a ship while clearing out the path for it on Mount Glavos.”

  That caught my attention. “A ship on the side of a mountain?”

  Tiffin beamed liked the sun. “Over ten thousand feet above the ground. A full sailing ship, the hull even has dead sea creatures attached to it.”

  “How the hell…”

  “That’s what the chancellor wants us to figure out. And there’s one more thing.” She set the envelope on my desk and slid it forward, almost giddy with anticipation. I picked it up, and a walnut-sized crystal fell out with a clank.

  It glowed with its own inner light, and when it fell out of the lacquered brown envelope, it had enough power to illuminate my dark office more than the tiny lantern at the corner of my desk.