The Motive for Massacre (The Kinless Trilogy Book 2) Page 15

"No, not really," Mal said.

  "No, not really? You are going to speak a lot more specifically if you want me to make this meeting occur today. I'm already a good bit against the idea of bringing the trouble you're sure to have brought with you to a strong member of my faculty, and someone whom I care about."

  "We um," Mal said, struggling to think of how much to say. He looked at his sister for help but she shrugged. "It's not financial. But it might concern something of great value. Something stolen from our family. We actually don't know all the details, but we think Weston might be able to tell us more. We're here for his help."

  Samrale looked at each of the gathered visitors and assessed them. Each in turn felt like they were under tremendous scrutiny, and unwarranted pressure. This was a pass/fail moment for them and it was clear their judge was weighing their visible merits against their potential flaws.

  Chelsea tempted fate and tried to tip the scales. "They're the sole survivors from the New Picknell massacre sir. All their family is dead and gone, and they think, we think they've found someone. There are a lot of loose ends that need tying in their lives, and we came here hoping to find some peace, and along with that, some answers to difficult questions."

  Samrale stood immediately, decision made. His magical cane appeared again in his hand. "Finally, someone with the courage to speak enough of the truth to get my blood pumping. Miss Chelsea, I applaud you. Mr. Apostle James, please lead us out of here. Following that, ladies first. Back down the stairs we go."

  James opened the door and left the office as he was instructed to. Chelsea followed him, and Umaryn was after that. Mal turned to leave but a hand that felt like a vice gripped his lower arm. The fingers were warm, too warm, almost feverish. He felt a tingle of The Way trickle through the hand and into his skin. Samrale had grabbed him. Mal looked at the man, impossible to hide the fear he felt.

  Samrale's voice was low, and calm. "It has been a very long time since I allowed a death mage into this school, stranger. Your kind has a reputation for unsavory acts. I trust you are not like the others who follow your art."

  "Absolutely Samrale. I'm so very sorry to worry you. We've had to… sacrifice. Do things we wouldn't have otherwise. If there's time later, I can explain it all to you. I hope you understand."

  Samrale still had Mal's wrist, and he was staring into Mal's bright blue eyes. "I'll give you credit because you're family with Weston, and your sister seems to be a good person as well. But The Way you wield… Malwynn it can turn you. Turn on you. It gives the promise of immediate power, with not enough sacrifice. You must be stronger than the temptation you'll face. And I assure you, there will come a day when that temptation will be before you. Behave while you are here, or you'll find your necromantic arts very insufficient to protect yourself."

  "Are you two coming? We don't know where we're going," Umaryn asked from the doorway. Mal hoped she didn't hear what the old man said.

  "Sorry dear. I was just scolding your brother for dragging his feet with that Chelsea girl." Sam had already let go of Mal, and was brushing his arm like he was a pet. The old wizard slid around Mal and joined the young lady at the door.

  "Yeah I know. There's a long story there Samrale. I'll tell it to you as we walk down all these damned stairs."

  Samrale visibly brightened. "Oh that'll be wonderful. Your brother blushes in a very entertaining fashion. Let us see how many times we can redden the poor man."

  "Deal."

  The empty classroom smelled of incense, dust, and old books. Samrale had let them into the large room filled with small wooden desks and stiff wooden chairs and left them alone. He didn’t even tell them when to expect Weston. He just nodded to them and closed the door behind him.

  "This is a very impressive place. Though I thought it'd be bigger," James said as he looked out a ten foot tall paned glass window that overlooked the city below. The view was staggeringly beautiful.

  "I've said that before," Chelsea said idly.

  "Not to me," Mal shot back.

  "Not yet at least. Not sure what you're waiting for." Chelsea sighed.

  The others were silent, letting the awkward yet still funny moment pass. It helped to cut some of the tension in the group.

  James was the first to speak again. "What do you need to ask this person anyway? I feel like I'm prying. Bit out of place I might add," James said as he watched the residents of Davisville go about their lives in the drizzle far below. He could see how the wizards could grow a sense of omnipotence on this cliff. They were so high above, and everyone down below seemed so small and insignificant.

  Umaryn answered him. "He might know about the reason our parents were killed. New Picknell, the town we are from, was destroyed by an Amaranth raiding party. We are the lone survivors, if you hadn't heard already. With nothing left, we followed the tracks north, and made our way to Graben. We spent months up there, tracking down who did it, and eventually we did."

  James had turned from the window, and was captivated. "What happened then?"

  "We hunted down everyone who worked for him, and sent them to the grave."

  "Were you able to set their souls free? There are no Apostles in the Empire, are there?" James sounded worried as he looked away from the window to them.

  The twins shook their head sadly. Umaryn continued. "We killed his bodyguards, and then found him. Omniri Decadra. He was a Queen's Necromancer. Before we killed him he told us that he was hired by someone in Varrland to destroy New Picknell."

  "Hired?" James was aghast.

  She nodded. "Hired to destroy our town, kill all those who lived there, and especially kill our parents. And when everyone was dead, the Necromancer was to retrieve an item from our home. We don’t know what that item is, but it is the motive behind the massacre of everyone we knew. We're here hoping to learn more."

  James was shaking but he tried to hide it. He was beyond conflicted. He had anger and mistrust all running side by side with overwhelming doubt over whether or not she was even telling the truth. His loyalty and faith was being tested, and it was painful to endure. He started to ask another question, seeking some solace but the door to the classroom opened, and a middle aged man walked through.

  He was tall, almost exactly the same height as Malwynn, and bore more than a passing resemblance. Like Samrale had said the hair and jaw were very similar. He had left out that Weston's hair was raven black like both the brother's and sister's. Weston's vision must've been poor, for he wore round, thick eyeglasses that made his bright blue eyes seem the size of a sky colored apple. When he blinked, it felt like a window shutter was being closed for a moment.

  "Oh dear," he said as he gazed on Malwynn and Umaryn. The twins equally were speechless. The family relation was obvious. The man stood still, his hand clutching the door knob like a drowning swimmer might hold a rope.

  Mal took a step forward. "Weston Fireborn? Is your brother Ellioth?" Malwynn asked, his voice cracking.

  Weston blinked repeatedly, and a hint of moisture beaded in his eyes. "That he was. My vision is poor, but I could swear on my ancestors that you're the spitting image of him. Are we some form of relation? What's your name?" Weston shut the door behind him firmly, and took a few steps into the room after letting go of the knob.

  "My name is Malwynn, this is my sister Umaryn. We've taken the last name of Everwalk. Our father was Ellioth, and our mother Catherine."

  The corner of Weston's lip betrayed him and trembled with emotion. "So they married after all. And children too. But you said was? They are… dead then?" Weston asked. They hadn’t even realized the man had hope in his voice until it was gone.

  "Taken from us just last year. Killed by the Amaranth Empire, at the request of a Darisian Apostle."

  "Alisanne," Weston said balling his hands into fists.

  "Yes, we think so. How did you know that?"

  Weston's lost hope had migrated into simmering anger. The bespectacled wizard was certainly their family in that regard. Umaryn was
taken aback by how much Weston reminded her of her father. "It could only be one person. Alisanne betrayed us. We were sent to investigate a place, deep and dark. A mine. A very old place, from long before The Fall. Your mother and father—and mind you, they weren't more than summer lovers then, they wanted to keep what they found deep at the bottom, despite what the Church wanted. Alisanne couldn't allow that. She chose the Church over friends and family. Caused a collapse of stone on them. I thought they were dead. All these years and they never came to find me." Weston sounded deflated.

  Umaryn pressed with a tough question. "Alisanne claimed death benefits on our parents and you. For her to do that, you would've had to have died. And yet here you are. How is that possible?"

  Weston sat down at a student's desk. Somehow the gesture seemed sad. A grown man forced to sit in a chair too small, at a desk that cramped his adult body. "She pursued me. Followed me through the Duulani hills for a day, maybe more. I forget now. The memory of a dear friend, someone you love stalking you through the woods with murder on their minds clouds over time. I think my mind is protecting me from the truth of it all." Weston's voice trailed off as he delved deep into memories he'd clearly avoided for a very long time. Since before the twins were even born.

  Malwynn sat down at a desk near Weston. "Did you fake your death? How did you escape her?"

  Weston looked up suddenly, as if he had remembered something important. "Maybe I'll just tell you the story, from start to finish, as best I can eh? You deserve the truth I suppose. Everyone should have a seat. This might take some time and the story doesn't have a happy ending. But you knew that already, didn't you?"

  - Chapter Twelve -

  WESTON'S STORY

  It was brutally cold that late October day. When we got off of the train in Duulan we were all shivering and had a lengthy discussion about whether or not we should call off the hike to the village near the mine. On the map the village was four hour's journey on foot. You see, we hadn’t brought our horses for this. We knew the terrain would be tough, and it didn’t make sense to bring them to save us a short journey on foot, or bring them where they might break a leg on rough terrain. I guess if we'd known the weather was to turn foul we might've brought the mounts, but there's little sense debating it now. The weather twenty odd years ago isn't why we're here, is it?

  We decided to make the trip that day. It was only just after breakfast and we felt we could get there before daylight faded and the true cold set in. I remember as we were walking Lune was visible through the clouds even with the sun present. No Hestia though. Have you taken the time to look up at the night sky, and our two moons and realized just how big everything is? How small we are?

  I look up a lot. The sky makes me forget my problems. Parts of my past as well I think now.

  The walk was on a smooth dirt road designed for heavy carts. You see the village—it was called New Falun at the time, I don't know what they call it now, or if it even exists now—was built solely because of the copper mine there. They used to set fire to the earth, and burn all the copper in it into rough shaped ingots. They'd break the earth apart with hammers and tools, and pull that orange colored metal out, then refine it a bit more outside of the mine, then ship it all to the train on wide Gvorn-pulled carts. Heavy carts, built to transport tons of the raw metal. I know when we were there the town was campaigning the Artificers to build a small rail line, but I don't know what happened with that.

  The four of us reached the village, New Falun it was called, just after the noon sun started to crest and dip. We made good time wanting to get out of the cold. It wasn't wintry mind you, just enough of a brisk mountain valley wind that chilled your fingers and nose 'til they were numb. I must say it was beautiful there. The Akeel Mountains are tall, white capped and steep sloped. I'm told you can see some of the primordial creatures of Elmoryn deep in the forest of the Eastern Wilds there. Shadow Wolves, Heap Daemons, Basilisks, Blademouths, name it. I know the four of us saw some sights. Chill you to your bones. Make you hide in your closet. Maybe your uncle will tell you those stories sometime too.

  New Falun was built for copper and the smelting of it. Despite the beauty of the valley it sat in, the town proper was ugly. Four score of homes scattered at the side of a fast running creek, all with thatched roofs and small attached barns for goats, and sheep. A few horses. One tiny temple dedicated to the Church of Souls was in the middle of it all, and here was no Guild presence at all. The men were haggard, soot faced and bent backed and their wives near the same. Most sat on the rough stone stoops of their homes, sipping on jugs of ale and home distilled spirits. Angry faces to a one it felt. Wild and unruly children with dirty faces ran about to and fro, getting underfoot as we tried to make our way to the temple. They begged for candies, and we gave them what we had. We'd be back in Daris or Eden Valley in a few days so parting with a few sweets to make some friends seemed like a small price to pay. We made our way to the temple, and sat down with the lone Apostle to learn more about why we'd been dispatched to the mine.

  As it turns out we weren't the first people they'd asked for. Have you been to The Realm? No? You see the Duulani King relies heavily on the Order of the Lacuna for policing their wilds. Duulan also leans on their military school in Eden Valley as well, House Dragovich. When the miners had a collapse in their pit, and they saw a dark and deep tunnel that looked man made, they first called for the Order of the Lacuna to come investigate.

  It took a week to get the answer back to New Falun, and the order of noble knights sadly laughed off New Falun's hole in the ground, and fearing they'd cause a collapse, the village opted to ask for the Guild's help next, and then the Church's. As you might've realized, the Guild opted to pass on the investigation, but the Church chose to send us. You see, we were working for the Church in Daris, traveling into the wilds to find lost things, and to help temples and the devout out of trouble. It was an honest living. Dangerous of course at times, but we were making a difference in the lives of common folk. We slept well at night.

  The Church dispatched us to New Falun, and the Apostle told us of the tunnel revealed in the collapse. I remember the Apostle. He had a strange name, what was it? Gregor. Yes, that's it. Gregor. Gregor was a thick man, with no neck and long blonde hair kept in a ponytail. He had these round rosy red cheeks and a weary smile. I'll never forget his face.

  Gregor told us all about how the village hadn't shipped ore in weeks as they were waiting for help to come. That explained why everyone gave us such nasty looks as we arrived. We were long since delayed and begged for help, and we walked into that village as if it were a nuisance. Their very livelihoods were being held up, stopped cold in fact because of the mysterious hole in the ground, and we were acting as if it were nothing at all. It had to have been insulting, infuriating even.

  I know I felt guilty about it. Your mother and father as well. Alisanne… I don't know. She was always a bit colder and distant than your mother. Definitely the harder of the twins. She was always the rigid one. Inflexible. Dedicated. You can't argue with her drive. She was able to move mountains. She still does I'm sure.

  Bitch.

  The actual mine itself was on the other side of a narrow gorge that was several miles distant. The gorge had a reputation for the occasional Shadow Wolf, and we opted to stay in the village that night. The afternoon was passed with us asking the local villagers that didn't retreat inside their homes about the tunnel, and then eating a nice supper at the temple. Gregor fed us well. Venison cooked over a hearth and mashed turnips with fresh goat cheese and berries. I've always favored the simple meals. I've never developed the palate for the strange things like they prepare in Ryobia. I'll never understand why anyone would put that much time into a meal. Make it quick, and as good as you can in the allotted time and that's enough for me.

  We slept on the floor of the temple that night. It wasn't our worst sleeping arrangement by far. Had I known it was the last night we'd spend together as a family and group I thin
k I would've tried to savor it, but of course, I didn't know. It didn't help my focus any that the local liquor was potent. Some of the strongest I've ever had. I had two small snifters of it and called it a night. I slept like the dead. It tasted like a red hot coal and left me just as burnt in the morning.

  The temperature turned in our favor the next day. Clear sunny skies rained down warmth, and the wind that stormed through the passes had died off. As ideal an October day as you can imagine, and made more the sweet because of the previous day's cold. We set off on foot through the gorge with the Apostle Gregor leading the way. He didn't have to come, the locals told us the gorge was a dead end at the copper pit, and the only way to get lost was to climb the stone walls of the pass, which we had no plans on doing. But the round faced man insisted, and he led us with his walking stick tapping out the way.

  It was an hour and a half to the pit. The first things we saw were smelting houses. Small open buildings with large fires and pots to refine the metal straight from the pit. They had long gone cold, sitting, waiting to be relit. As we walked by them, we talked about how excited we were to hopefully tell them they could get to mining again. When we wound our way through the ten or so largest of the copper smelt houses, following the cart road, we came out into the massive mine itself. It probably isn't like you imagine. Not a hole in the ground at all. Not like a cave that is. This mine was large, three, four hundred yards across, and almost as deep into the earth. Steppes marked the different levels where they set fire to the ground to burn the copper bits solid for removal. It was more an enormous hole in the ground than a deep mine like they draw in the children's storybooks.

  We walked to the edge where the path started down, and you could see down at the bottom something had happened. Instead of the smooth edges of the steppes, geometric and precise, there was a collapse on the far edge of the pit, near the very bottom. At the very bottom actually. Gregor said he had a bad feeling about the collapse, and after telling us about how to be safe down at the bottom, he left us to our devices and headed back to New Falun.