Deaths key, p.1
Death's Key, page 1
Beth Overmyer
Death’s Key
Book Three of The Goblets Immortal Series
FLAME TREE PRESS
London & New York
*
Know what is to be; everything, you see:Drink from the Goblet of Seeing.
Lighter than air, float without care:Drink from the Goblet of Drifting.
Strength and survival, no beast is your rival:Drink from the Goblet of Enduring.
Strategic and cunning, to war shall be running:Drink from the Goblet of Warring.
Take what you can, banish at hand:Drink from the Goblet of Summoning.
Luck is your friend, all others must bend:Drink from the Goblet of Questing.
Immortality to he who drinks from one and the rest –And a curse for the soul who was born as a Blest.
Chapter One
Aidan
The day’s light gave way to night, and Aidan found himself no more certain of where he was or how he had arrived there exactly. Three things he did know of his situation, and those he had trouble accepting. Firstly, something was wrong with his traveling companion, Slaíne. She had remained unconscious from the moment they had rematerialized from Nothingness, the land between the living and the magical dead, waking only once to ask where she was. He couldn’t even give her that.
Aidan raked a hand through his dark hair and continued pacing in front of the iron-barred window. The second thing he knew of their plight was that they were both captives of a wizard who called himself ‘Hex’. Hex had materialized moments after Slaíne’s collapse. He sent her ahead by some mysterious means before he took Aidan through a strange white portal that opened midair. Where the wizard was now, Aidan hadn’t any idea. His Pull, the sense Aidan had of a person’s or object’s presence, had disappeared or changed somehow.
He looked at the door, as if that would force the being to return. Pacing was getting Aidan nowhere, so he stopped and sank to the floor, clutching his sore head in his hands.
Finally, the third and most unnerving of the facts Aidan repeated to himself, was that he had begun to hear a woman’s voice in his head – only, no one else was in the room with him besides Slaíne, who was asleep. Granted, he had heard voices in his head before, such as the strange man Salem, who possessed the ability to inhabit Aidan’s mind and take over his body from time to time. Salem was among the magical dead in the land called the Beyond, with which Aidan had a connection he couldn’t explain. In the land of the living, there was Meraude, the mage, who had interrupted his dreams but had remained suspiciously silent since Aidan was stabbed by the nymph queen’s ice blade. Meraude wanted all magic-kind dead and would use the Goblets Immortal to see to it, if Aidan didn’t stop her in time. He tried to push those thoughts aside and focus on the present. The voice speaking to him now was different than Meraude’s and Salem’s; it was ancient.
Aidan…Aidan…Aidan….
Smashing his hands over his ears, Aidan let out a growl of frustration. If only that miserable wizard would return so Aidan could have something to do with his fists, though he knew a mere Blest such as himself would be no match for a being such as that. His own power was, after all, derived from a single wizard’s array of abilities, as were all powers gained through a Goblet Immortal. From what he knew, there were five Goblets Immortal, magical vessels that gave their imbibers different abilities, and together immortality and great power. Whoever drank from the Drifting Goblet gained flight for a time, until the water left their body. If a woman drank of a Goblet when she was with child, her offspring would be known as a Blest and would have a magical ability for the remainder of their days. Maybe he and Slaíne, whose mother must have drunk from the Drifting Goblet, could fight the wizard together…if only she would wake.
The sun had sunk in its entirety now, and a night-crow let out its mournful shriek. This would not do, sitting on the floor and waiting. Aidan needed to do something. Anything. He pulled himself to his feet and approached the bed where Slaíne lay.
“Can you hear me?” Aidan asked, pressing a hand to her forehead. She was cold. Far too cold. Aidan looked not for the first time for means to start a fire. There was a great fireplace, but no wood, no kit, no tinder, nothing he could use. Again he tried finding his cache in Nothingness, the magical place objects disappeared to when Aidan Dismissed them. It was there, but when he tried reaching for it with his mind, his thoughts overshot it and he caught brief visions of the Beyond. Why had his ability to make objects disappear and reappear chosen now to change? He kicked at the wall and gave a shout of frustration.
That was when a fire burst to life in the fireplace.
Aidan leapt away. “What the devil?” The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and dread clenched his stomach as he stared at the green flames licking at the grate. The wizard must be near at hand, to have conjured a blaze such as this. Trembling with the need to act, Aidan reached for the iron fire poker and was surprised to find the metal nowhere near as repulsive as it might have been once upon a time. In the past, iron had always felt wrong to handle. It interfered with Aidan’s magic, and he could neither Dismiss it – make it disappear into Nothingness – nor use any of his magical abilities on it. Silently, he prodded curtains, looked behind tapestries, and even peered inside the great wardrobe at the east end of the room. There was no one there, just him and Slaíne.
He felt the Pull a mere second before the wizard spoke. “Those are interesting flames.” Before Aidan could lash out with the poker, it vanished from his hands and reappeared by the hearth, causing him to jump. “I know you have a lot of questions,” Hex said, folding his arms across his chest. “I’m sorry I left you both alone for so long. I was dealing with…the aviary.” His shoulders sagged, and Aidan noted shadows like bruises beneath his eyes. “If a person’s angry enough, the transfiguration reversal process becomes very difficult.”
“Where are we? She’s—”
“Slaíne is going to be all right.” The wizard motioned for Aidan to follow him to the door. “She’ll probably be unconscious for the next few days.” Hex shook his head. “It must be quite a shock.”
Aidan opened his mouth to ask what he was talking about and demand to be released at once, but the wizard walked through the solid door and disappeared. After a moment, he returned the same way, wearing a look of confusion on his face before smirking. “Oh, right. Curses. You can’t….” Hex laughed and pulled the door open like a normal human, then motioned for Aidan to follow. “She is perfectly safe where she is, Aidan.”
“How do I know I can trust you?” Aidan demanded, still unwilling to leave his traveling companion at her most defenseless. She may no longer be cursed – something that had been done to her as a child and had prevented her from being away from whomever she called master – but that didn’t mean she was safe.
Hex snapped his fingers, and at once they were no longer standing in the bedchamber but found themselves before a red fire burning bright and smokeless in a circular pit. The white brick room was vast, with windows reaching from floor to ceiling, and though it was dark outside, Aidan could hear and smell the roar of the salty sea.
Startled, Aidan nearly stumbled into the blaze, which spat green sparks at him as he righted himself. “What—”
“Maybe we should be seated for this.” Hex waved his hand, and a chair materialized behind Aidan, knocking into his knees so that he fell backward into it. The wizard took his seat more gracefully. “Right. You wanted to know where you are. This is Vät Vanlud.”
Aidan’s shoulder prickled with cold, and he could hear the faint voice of Salem shouting, but could not decipher the words. Salem always chose the wrong times to attempt to contact him from the Beyond. He had been doing it for weeks now through their peculiar mental connection. Aidan couldn’t remain too angry with him, however; Salem had saved him from Lord Dewhurst, Aidan’s nemesis, by inhabiting his body temporarily, after all. “Vät Vanlud,” Aidan repeated, pushing the voice of his inner friend aside. “What does that mean?”
“The House of Curses.” Hex gestured around vaguely, sending a rainbow of sparks flying from his fingertips. At once the walls around them disappeared and it was as though he and Aidan had been transported to a sheer black cliff overlooking a raging green sea. “The island we’re on – Trys Lanludd – is unreachable.” He gave Aidan a meaningful look. “No one can come or leave here without my help.” Perhaps sensing Aidan’s growing unease, the wizard waved his hands again, and the walls reappeared. “Now, you must wonder how I know who you are.” He opened and closed his mouth a few times, shook his head, and said, “I keep an ear to the ground for trouble in the land. When I heard your name and what you might be up to, I sent out one of my servants and had you followed. As for the why and how, that is really a question to answer when Slaíne’s awake, I fear.” He gave Aidan a curious look, one that the latter did not care for in the least. It was a look of expectation and resignation, as though the wizard were waiting for Aidan to burst into flames so that he might extinguish them. After a moment, the look passed, and Aidan found himself regathering his wits.
Anger at being taken against his will bubbled hard in Aidan’s veins. But he knew he must tread carefully with the wizard if he wanted to get out of this mess alive. “Who are you exactly?” he asked, his tone flat and brittle.
Hex seemed to consider this as he sat there and rubbed his bare chin. “You were expecting someone ancient-looking, with a long, tangled beard,
Aidan did not dignify that with a response.
Hex chuckled. “I am the third of the Seven Great Wizards to once rule the Saime, what now is mostly wilderness and wasteland. It was once one nation, but now I see it divided.” The wizard flicked a finger and a long reed pipe appeared in his tanned hands. Out of the tip of his pointing finger he produced a red flame, which he placed inside the bowl of his pipe, and began to puff meditatively.
A chill wriggled its way up Aidan’s back. This wizard was most likely the one who had aligned himself with the rest of magic-kind against the cruel and controlling wizards in the Great War – a war between wizards and the rest of magical kind – making him well over five hundred years old. It had to be him; only two wizards had survived the war, from what Aidan had learned. Aidan had already met the other wizard the day previous, and he was insane. But how could this man be over five-hundred? The other wizard had looked ancient. Hex looked Aidan’s age and not a day older.
Perhaps reading Aidan’s thoughts, as wizards of lore were wont to do, Hex said, “Do not look so surprised, Aidan Ingledark. Magic always comes with a price.” The smoke wafting from his pipe turned red and began to twist and writhe and form itself into strange shapes in the dim air. “The price I pay is immortality.” He laughed but it was without humor. His gaze roved back to Aidan. “You must be famished. I’m sorry I left you alone for so long, but as I said, she’s still fairly angry, and that makes this type of magic difficult.”
Aidan frowned. He did not know how to respond to this, had no idea what the wizard was going on about, so he leapt to his feet. “This is ridiculous. The longer we sit here, the more likely it is that Meraude is going to get what she wants.” From what Aidan understood, Meraude hated magical beings and wanted to assert herself as queen of everyone left after the dust of her conflict settled. Whether or not she had the allies to accomplish this remained to be seen.
Hex’s expression darkened. “That is not entirely true. There is no Questing Goblet, after all.”
The Questing Goblet, had it been made, would have given its imbiber luck beyond measure, and would have aided Aidan and Slaíne in their quest to destroy Meraude. If they could get their hands on the Seeing Goblet, they could look into the future and see the means to their revenge. Even the Summoning and Drifting Goblets might prove useful, though Aidan could not think of a good reason why at the moment.
“Yes, there is no Questing Goblet, but there are other Goblets to contend with.” It took all his strength not to scream at this strange, calm man. “What if she has the Warring Goblet? Then she will have the war she wishes for.”
But the wizard was shaking his head. “That is not how it works, Ingledark. I think you know that very well. You have, after all, imbibed from it.”
Aidan blinked. For a short time, less than a full day, he had possessed the magical vessel. Before knowing what it would do, Aidan had drunk from it, and the only effect it had had was to clear his mind. No wars had sprung up around him, which of course would have been ridiculous. He did not admit any of this to the wizard, however, but he knew Hex was aware of his thought. “All right, but if she has it, then she will have the mind of a great warrior. Will anyone be able to best her?”
For a moment, Hex’s eyes twinkled. “Meraude does not possess the Warring Goblet.” He held up his hand and began ticking off on his fingers. “Nor does she have the Drifting Goblet, as you well know. She doesn’t have foresight, and I believe she is too frightened to attempt to drink from the Seeing Goblet at the moment. The other Goblets, wherever they may be, are not your concern.”
Anger flashed through Aidan, clouding his thoughts. “You decide what my concerns are, do you?”
Hex let out a long sigh. “You need to calm down, Aidan. I know it’s hard. I was young once like you. Age will mellow your rage, but until then, it’s only going to hurt you and those you care about.”
Aidan was so furious he couldn’t move or speak but stared into the flames, which seemed to jump in reaction to his rage. He felt a cold blast of air, and he at first assumed one of the windows had blown open. But he was
wrong: the windows remained closed, and Hex was lowering his hand, tendrils of red wafting from his fingertips.
He gave Aidan a sympathetic look. “It’ll get easier.”
“What will get easier? Being held against my will?” The heat, however, had gone out of Aidan’s anger, and all he felt now was tired and empty.
The wizard’s eyebrows shot heavenward. “Interesting. I thought you knew. Forgive me.”
Before Aidan could ask Hex what he meant, a tray of food materialized before him. It was piled high with piping-hot mounds of roast beef, roasted carrots and red-skinned potatoes, green string beans, and baked apples with their skins melting tenderly off the browned and spiced flesh. As inviting as this all looked, Aidan could not bring himself to be much interested in consuming anything. He continued to stand.
Hex shook his head. “It won’t do you any good to stand there and brood, Ingledark. You can’t have eaten for a day at least.”
It was tempting to insist that he would eat when Slaíne was awake, but the wizard made an interesting proposition: “I know what you are thinking. But hear me out: nourish yourself, and I will show you a magic trick.”
Aidan bit down on a smirk. “Oh?”
“You think this was interesting?” The wizard gestured around him. “This was nothing to be impressed with. Sit, eat, and I will introduce you to some higher magic.” He waved his hand, and a fine yellow bird in a gilded cage appeared in midair. The poor little beast was squawking away, a sound Aidan had heard many an irate mother bird make to keep predators away from its nest. But the bird’s Pull was all wrong. It felt…suppressed.
The cage turned so the bird was now facing Aidan, and the creature’s squawking became a screech. As it went silent, the wizard shot a bolt of white light out of the tip of his pointing finger. The light hit the bird in the back, and the creature began to glow and then slowly grew in size, transforming from a tiny feathered beast in a cage to a woman with deep blue eyes that were in great contrast to her jet-black hair.
At once the wizard took a step back, not afraid, but apparently nervous.
When the woman opened her mouth, her voice sounded strained, as though she had been screaming for some time. “Where is Quick?” The words must have been directed at Hex, but the woman was looking at Aidan, apparently befuddled.
The fire in the pit began to jump again, its colors shifting slightly. Hex’s gaze traveled to Aidan, watchful again.
“Where is he?”
The wizard cleared his throat. “Jinn, your brother is in good health. Come, you’re distressing yourself for naught.”
“Where is he?” Still her eyes did not leave Aidan.
Hex snapped his fingers and another chair appeared, this one on the wizard’s right; like Aidan, the woman did not choose to sit. “Quick is sleeping off a feast in one of the guest rooms. He has wanted for nothing and is at perfect ease. You may see him shortly, once I’ve explained a few things.”
Aidan’s discomfort increased as the two continued to stare at him while they were talking to each other. What madness is this?
“I didn’t foresee— It’s dark. So dark.” She hiccupped, a sound bordering on a sob.
Shifting his weight, the wizard now looked at Jinn and frowned. “All shall be made known presently. For now…Jinn, allow me to introduce you to Aidan Ingledark. Aidan, this is Jinn. I thought, things being as they are, what with you both at last under the same roof, it would only be fitting for you to meet. There, be met.”
At this the woman paled and would not quite meet his eyes. “Why are you doing this?” At last she stopped staring at Aidan like he was some strange specimen and turned to the wizard. Anger radiated off of Jinn in waves, and Aidan almost imagined he could see it.
Aidan shook himself mentally. One could not see emotions, he was being fanciful, and he never had much of an imagination.
It was a sight, the slight woman confronting the wizard, who seemed ready to run from the room. If the circumstances had been different, Aidan might have sat back and watched the two verbally spar. As it was, he was in no mood to put up with small talk. He needed to know what the purpose of keeping him here was and when they would be released. “Wizard, I do not care what your quarrel is with this woman or even who this woman is. Tell me what Slaíne and I are doing here, or so help me….”
