The Motive for Massacre (The Kinless Trilogy Book 2) Read online

  "You'll use our cellar. I'll have no argument about it," Agnes said, getting to her feet. The sound of soldiers marching nearby was starting to abate. The drill was apparently over.

  "But—"

  She glared again, "No. Argument."

  Alisanne sat in her office at the cathedral alone, not feeling well. Complications tied her stomach into knots, and she was tied up with complications. She sipped at a cup of hot herbal tea that was usually successful at calming her stomach.

  It was futile.

  Her attempt to end the lives of the nephew and niece she didn't know had failed. In and of itself, failure was an alarmingly disruptive thing for Alisanne, but this was worse. The failure of the three spirits to slay her kin meant that her kin were far more able, and dangerous than she'd expected.

  Alisanne sat her cup of hot tea down on her desk and walked over to the bookshelf where she stored the small locked box all of this stemmed from. Had they never found the odd discovery inside the box so many years ago, none of this would've happened. She'd still have her sister, and her friends, and a life filled with better opportunities than the one that had been thrust upon her. Alisanne lifted the box with her eyes closed, imaging the strange object within. It had barely any weight. Alisanne had once weighed the item within the box against a handful of feathers, and the scale had balanced.

  But such little weight could change the world. Alisanne opened her eyes and placed the box back on the shelf. She couldn't destroy the box's contents yet. As dangerous as it was, there could come a day when the Church might need it, and until then, the burden of caring for the treasure, and keeping its secret was hers.

  The twins were alive. Her attempt at murdering them had failed. This was a fact she could not change. Now she'd lost track of where they were. Since the night before, neither she nor her aide James had seen them. Umaryn hadn't returned to the Guild, and no one had seen the brother anywhere in the city. It was as if they'd gone to the other side with the summoned spirits when they faded away.

  But they would surface, as all of her enemies did.

  She already knew where one was.

  The thin man stood at the front of a group of eager young men and women. Active eyes and ears fed active minds in the classroom he taught in. The room itself was tall like the man. The gray stone ceiling hung twenty feet above, and reaching from nearly floor to the top were sharply arched dagger shaped windows. Unlike most of the rippled, handmade glass windows of Elmoryn, these were finely made. The clear glass was mirror smooth, and allowed for perfect light and vision.

  The floor was covered in a rich green rug with golden thread trim that felt welcoming underfoot. Students were known to kick off their footwear during class just to feel the satisfying squish of the rug underfoot. At the front of the room, behind the tall, thin teacher was a black chalkboard that ran from side to side. Arcane words written in ancient, obscure languages spelled out lessons that only the deeply interested could fathom.

  The room had personality, and it was well suited for teaching.

  "To successfully alter one's facial structures, it is absolutely critical to be unique. If you lift the small hand mirrors I've put on your desks, hopefully you'll find something in your own features that is somewhat unique. Perhaps your nose is too large. Perhaps one eye is slightly higher the other. Maybe your lips are too thin. But invariably, near all of us have a flaw that stands out. To have a convincing alter, you should seriously consider making something understated, but off. Now watch."

  The tall thin man took off his thick and round eyeglasses, setting them down on the podium. He closed his eyes for a moment, and then summoned The Way with a deep breath. The students gathered had collectively prepared sensory spells of their own to follow the ebb and flow of the drawn magic in the room. As the instructor collected the energies into his fingers they watched carefully, knowing every part of what he did would be of use later. After a few seconds the teacher lifted his Way imbued hands to his face.

  Invisible to the naked eye, the fingers were luminescent. Only the students who were using The Way to sense the power could see the hidden talent in the open. As the tips of the man's fingers brushed against his nose, his nose bent to his will. He used his thumbs to widen his nostrils and with a gentle tug he lengthened the bridge. A swift brush against his eyebrows drew out the line of his forehead, and when he pushed against his jaw, the entire shape of his head seemed to widen. In just a few moments, his face had entirely changed.

  "As you can see, now I appear entirely different, yet believable," the teacher said to a polite round of student applause.

  "Mr. Fireborn!?" A student said as she raised her hand high towards the ceiling.

  "Yes Zoe?" The teacher said as his face slowly reverted back to its original, proper form. He put his glasses back on as well.

  "The senior students all tell us that we should ask you how you got your last name. How did you get your last name?"

  The teacher smiled. "Well Zoe, this has been an amusing tradition here at House Kulare for over ten years now. Every autumn when classes begin here at the beginning of September, someone decides to tell an underclassman that my name is somehow important and a deep mystery to investigate. I'll tell you the truth if you like. Would you like that Zoe? Class?"

  The class murmured in excitement. Zoe spoke, "Yes Mr. Fireborn. I'd really like to know."

  The tall professor leaned forward on his podium. He looked tired. "I had a brother once. He's gone now. He was much as I was, gifted in The Way, ravishingly handsome, witty beyond belief." Mr. Fireborn paused for the laughter. That part of the story always got him a laugh. "But we, the Fireborn boys, well, we liked to do things a little differently where we were from."

  "Where are you from?" A young male student asked.

  "Brome, Varrland. It's near Duulan."

  "I passed through there on the train. It's a small town right?" Another male student said and asked.

  "Yes it is. And as you might imagine, we have precious little to do there. One night, my brother Ellioth and I were entertaining two very young and beautiful women. Sisters. Twin sisters I should say. I was sadly unable to win the heart of my chosen lady of the two, but my brother was. But less about my failures as a lady killer, and more about my surname. As you might imagine, as we sat around the fire the coals grew red and hot, much the same as my brother's affection for his lady-to-be." Mr. Fireborn smiled, remembering the night.

  "But we were drinking you see, as Varrlanders do when there is wine about. Red wine. That's our poison where I'm from you see. And that night, we had several bottles of the cheapest, strongest red wine we could get from our local shopkeeper. We had to pay nearly five Marks a bottle, and back then that was a train robbery of a price. Oh, the humanity. However, we were three or four bottles in, and no one was feeling any pain, only joy, and my brother… Well he fell into the fire."

  The room gasped.

  "Don't worry too much. You see the two of us had already been learning The Way on our own, and as the elder and clearly more powerful brother, I was able to snap cast through my drunken haze an Elemental Filter on him, and he was able to avoid the worst of being burnt. Of course when I leapt forward to yank him free of the fire before my spell lapsed, he took my hand, and I lost my balance."

  The room hushed, worried.

  "I then fell myself. Into the fire and onto my side, directly upon the coals," Mr. Fireborn said as he stood up behind the podium and walked around it. He lifted his white linen shirt, revealing a mass of scar tissue along the right side of his torso. It ran from his belt to his armpit. The students were open mouthed, utterly horrified at the old injury.

  "Our dates, the lovely twin sisters, they were spirit touched. Apostles from the cradle. I was fortunate. We were fortunate that night," Mr. Fireborn hesitated, emotion in his voice. "The girls got my brother and I out of the fire, and with what little magic they knew, they were able to mend my brother completely. But they were as yet not skilled enough
to fix the burns I suffered that night. For days they prayed to the dead for mending magic to fix my scab covered body, but each day they were left short. I had to heal using a mixture of The Way, and herbal remedies. Every single day that I lay in bed healing my brother was by my side. When we left Brome, we spent only a few years apart while I attended school here. As you can see, I survived, and I am none the worse for wear, and despite their subsequent years of apologies, I am incredibly grateful for the healing they gave me." Mr. Fireborn lowered his shirt after looking at the scar with an almost affectionate way.

  "Soo…?" Zoe asked.

  "Oh yes. It was said that on that night my brother and I became inseparable. It was as if we too were twins. Born together from the womb of the fire that night. Therefore, we called ourselves the Fireborn brothers."

  The students looked silent, awed by the immensely personal story.

  "I know. Powerful stuff. But don't let your awe of the story change how you feel about me and this class," Mr. Fireborn said, cleaning his glasses on his white shirt.

  "Lame," a young student said.

  "Yeah. Lame Mr. Fireborn. We thought your story would be about infernos of The Way, or something cool," a tiny student, far too small to be in a college said.

  "You all just lost a letter grade."

  - Chapter Seven -

  THREE TICKETS TO RIDE

  Umaryn sat with her Guild-given mentor in The Way, Nolan. The older man sat on a stone bench in a sunlit hall far from the commotion of the center of the Daris Guildhall. It was quiet, and the smell of paper, oil, and invention filled the air. She'd just told Nolan that she needed a week off from both her studies as well as her Guild assigned tasks.

  He didn't appear terribly pleased. "Umaryn your reputation is established very early on in Guild circles. Taking time off so early in your career will not look good. People will remember this for a time. You must be absolutely sure that you need this time off."

  Umaryn understood. "I know Librarian, but my brother and I have found some records that show we might have family living in a small town east of here. With New Picknell gone, we're desperate to find our family. Of course you can see the urgency in this. The Guild must understand. It's just a week. I'll return immediately once we know if they are family or not." It was a minor lie, but one that wasn't too far from the truth. Those were always the best lies. It disturbed Umaryn how much she lied now.

  Nolan pursed his lips, but agreed. "Yes yes. The tragedy and treachery of last year is still very fresh with all Varrlanders. As we watch our nation tread towards war to seek justice for your loss I am certain many will sympathize. I'm very sure soon many will empathize."

  The seemingly inevitable war between The Empire and Varrland would be catastrophic. Thousands would die, begetting thousands more deaths at the hands of the undead that would be left behind. Umaryn thought back to Agnes' speech below the Cathedral, and how Elmoryn was a world still rebuilding from near death already. If this war were to happen, it could undo all the work done in the last three hundred years. An image of the northern fields of Varrland where she grew up came to her. In the vision the green knolls were covered with blood, and shoulder to shoulder undead.

  "I hope to return soon. I'm very sorry for any inconvenience."

  "We survived this far without you, losing you for a week won't kill us. Just hurry back. If you want to do your family well, learning more in The Way and rising through our ranks is a sure way to help them."

  "Agreed. I'll try to send a post to let you know I arrived," Umaryn said.

  "Very well then. Give your brother my well wishes, and should you meet new family, them as well. Return to us quickly Umaryn Everwalk, maker of artifacts," Nolan said as he rose to his feet. He gave her a warm hug, and Umaryn left him in the bright hall.

  She made her way down the labyrinthine passages of the massive Guildhall. The building looked large from the exterior, but once you got inside the guts of the thing, it became oppressively massive. Eventually the smaller side halls gave way to the central room where she had first visited after her armor's birth. From there she gently pushed her way through the crowds gathered. Many stepped clear of her due to her special red lined gray robes, but many were simply distracted by the activity of the grand hall. She politely stepped through, and made her way to the entrance hall where citizens seeking train tickets bought them.

  She waited in line, and then stepped up to the window when it was her turn. She leaned in and spoke as quietly as she could through the hole in the glass. "Hello. I'd like to buy two tickets, round trip from Daris to Davisville. I'll also need stowage for a horse and a Gvorn. Tomorrow morning's first trip out please. Guild discount."

  The young Guild employee nodded and sorted through the stacks of tickets. She had a dozen different form of tickets already prepared for the most likely journeys, and the trip Umaryn requested was common. She rifled out two of the parchment colored palm sized squares and stamped them valid.

  "One hundred fifty P for the passengers. Another twenty P for the animals please," she said matter of factly.

  "I'm sorry, I said I was a member of the Guild. We do get a discount, don't we?"

  "I saw the robes Fabricator, and no, Guild members don't get discounts on rail tickets. I can garnish your wages should you need the tickets and not have the money on hand," the young woman said, holding up a rote form for Umaryn to see.

  Umaryn sighed. They hadn't returned to their flat yet, so she didn't have that kind of money on her. She'd brought only a hundred Marks. "I'll take a garnishment form, thank you."

  "Very well Fabricator," the girl said as she handed her the sheet and the implements to write.

  Umaryn did the math on how long it'd take her to pay back the tickets at her wage rate and began the application. Her father always warned her about having debts.

  Back in the central hall a middle aged man watched Umaryn as she got her tickets. He'd come here every day for several days, waiting to see her, or her brother. Up until just this moment, he'd had no luck. It took the woman near to five minutes to fill out a sheet of paper before she was handed some tickets and left. The man gave it a few minutes, milling about looking at a craftsman teach a pottery class before he too headed over to the same window. He waited patiently in line until the lady behind the glass beckoned for him to approach.

  "Hello, I was wondering if my sister had picked up tickets for our trip yet? She would've come just a bit ago if she had."

  The young girl looked bothered to reply, "I don't keep track of names sir. People buy tickets with money and I hand them their rail passes."

  "My sister said she'd need to fill out a form though, perhaps you've got the form? Her name is Umaryn?"

  She shrugged in response, but then the young woman's eyes lit up, and she turned on her stool, picking up a sheet of paper, "Oh yes, you're in luck. Your sister bought two tickets for tomorrow. You're all set."

  "Oh thank the Ancestors. She bought them for Eden Valley, yes?" The man offered, fishing for information.

  "No, Davisville. Round trip."

  The man tried to look a little surprised. "Oh, plans must've changed. Very well then I thank you. That saved me some money. Ancestors bless you."

  The lady nodded at him and he walked briskly out of the Guildhall and into the hustle and bustle of the Daris rail yard. He slipped off a long brown trench coat revealing an Apostle's white robes underneath. He strode down the way towards the stable where his horse was, happy to have found a clue at last. Alisanne would be pleased.

  "Uh no, absolutely not," Mal said with as much finality as he could muster.

  Chelsea smiled and shook her head. "I already bought my ticket. Same train and all. Marcus gave me the time off. I talked him into it. Training at House Kulare will be an excellent feather in my cap. If we're to head to war against The Empire soon, there's fair chance we'll fight alongside some Waymancers."

  Mal turned to Agnes in the family home, "How do you say things like you do? Ho
w do you get her to change her mind?"

  Agnes and Nathan sat on matching stools at the family table in their house. Agnes looked pleased as pudding at Mal's predicament with her daughter. "I'm sorry son but you've poked the bear with that one. You're on your own. I got her this far in life. It's someone else's turn to deal with her."

  "That's so unfair," Mal pleaded.

  Agnes shrugged. "Your. Problem. Now."

  "Yes like that," Mal said, pointing at Agnes. He turned to Chelsea, "You. Cannot. Come." He said as seriously as he could. He even tried the vaunted Agnes glare.

  Chelsea watched him intently, nodding slightly at the emphasis in his words, and even recoiling a fair bit when Mal tried at the glare. When he finished she looked contemplative. Then she shook her head. "Yeah ticket's already bought. I'm going with you and Umaryn to Davisville. Deal with it."

  Umaryn laughed. Mal sighed.

  "Davisville eh? The coast?" Alisanne half asked, half stated.

  James took a seat in front of the Bishop's desk, "Yes. Two tickets, round trip."

  "So a return is planned. That means they aren't running away. I suppose that's good." Alisanne spun in her chair, facing the window. The sun breached the slats in her shutter, casting a hundred tiny lines of bright white across the room. Looking at the window gave James a headache.

  "What should we do?"

  Alisanne sat in silence for near to five minutes before spinning back to face James. "Buy yourself a ticket, bring your horse. Follow them but do not interfere with their trip. We cannot afford to bring any Waymancer attention into this affair. Observe and report, then return to me. Do a sending if you must."

  "Do you know why they are going there?"

  "There is only one reason for them to be in Davisville that would worry me. I'm not sure if he'll want to be a part of the foolishness these twins have embarked on. Please James, observe and report only. Do not be seen by anyone of import at the College of Magic. House Kulare has a very long reach on Elmoryn. I do not need them meddling in what's best for the Church."