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21
Said Corpse Lord of the Fault Lands took a bracing sip of tea, wished it was wine instead, and straightened his spine resolutely. They sat in one of the small dining rooms on the fourth floor, intended for private meals with the ducal family: a plain, scar-topped table with a view of the magma fields. The sky lightened minute by minute, a smoke-screened lavender now. Náli hadn’t slept, nor had his Guard, who’d been urging him to do so ever since climbing out of the well.
“I don’t know the process, obviously,” he said, scrubbing at his eyes. His vision blurred from fatigue, but he felt overall restless; if he lied down, he would do nothing but watch the shadows move across the ceiling, he knew. “But I can figure it out the same way I did the enthralling spell. A little research, a little applied logic.” He let his hands drop to the table and they sought the warmth of his cup. “I’d need to retrieve the diamonds, obviously.”
Five faces wearing a variation of the same grim look stared back at him.
“Valgrind could do that,” Mattias said, grimmest of them all.
“Probably,” Náli agreed. “He can hold his breath longer and swim more strongly. With enough direction, I think he could manage.”
“Leaving aside the mechanics of it,” Klemens said, sitting forward, elbows braced on the table, “if you succeeded, if the spell worked…it would mean that we…could do what you do?” His brows lifted at the end, skeptical or scared, Náli couldn’t guess.
“Theoretically. There’s a measure of randomness with all magic, but in Lucian’s time, his Guard could use his magic as he could, yes. Not quite as powerfully, I don’t believe – he was still the Corpse Lord proper – but, yes. They could also cross beyond the veil. Speak with the dead. Animate corpses.”
He watched each man wrestle with that thought, expressions windows to the mental gymnastics necessary to imagine such a thing.
Frowning, Einrih asked, “And if we did this, you wouldn’t have to go into the well anymore?”
Danski said, “The mountain wouldn’t erupt?”
“Storing the magic is what’s making the mountain so volatile,” Náli said. “That magic came from a person and is meant to reside in one – or several.” He frowned. “It’s a bit convoluted, I’m afraid.”
“What I’m wondering,” Klemens said, and Náli tensed because, so far, Klemens had asked all the most difficult questions, “is, if the old man tells it true, if he’s who he says he is, and this was once his mother’s power – how was she able to manage it alongside all the others, but he had to share it?”
“I don’t know.” He hated admitting that. “Perhaps because his father had no power of his own. Perhaps Lucia was simply – special.” He frowned, displeased with his own lukewarm phrasing.
“None of us are special,” Klemens said, gesturing around the table at the others. “What if the spell kills us? And then you have no Guard at all?”
“Obviously I don’t want that to happen,” Náli snapped. “But you have all pledged your lives to me.” He was filled then with the horrible knowledge that he could force them to do this. That they ultimately had no say-so, and would submit to his orders because he was their lord and master.
He deflated, and propped his temple on a raised fist, too tired to stay snippy. “I know it’s not the same,” he said. “I know giving your life on the battlefield is honorable and expected. Giving it for the sake of a spell…” He sighed. “I don’t think that’ll happen – but I can’t guarantee it won’t. That’s why I’ve given you all the choice.
“I know that I’ve complained my whole, miserable life about the well. About my limits. About needing to marry and produce an heir. I’ve been graceless, yes, about the knowledge that I’m going to die early, and all shriveled and dried-out besides. Changing that would be – well, I want to change that. It’s selfish, but it’s true.
“But this last visit – hunting the dead across the Between…things are changing. On this side of the veil, and on the other side. Our enemy is changing things. They know we have drakes, now; they know I have one here. Whatever the Sels want with this continent, I don’t think we’ve even scratched the surface of what they’re capable of. I could hide here, in my mountain, waiting – but the war won’t pass us by. I’d rather go out and meet it.” He thumped his fist down on the table for emphasis, and watched their brows jump. “And I can’t do that unless I can leave this cursed place for more than a few weeks at a time.
“Things are changing,” he repeated. “Are you willing to change with it?”
He realized, once he’d spoken, that he’d laid before them an ultimatum, rather than a choice. That he’d voiced the threat to the duchy and the kingdom and their lives, and then asked them to choose.
But that was the truth of it, even if regret churned in his belly.
The five of them traded glances, and then looked to Mattias, their captain. Klemens nodded, leaving the final say to him.
Mattias held Klemens’ gaze a long moment, then nodded in return and looked to Náli. “You’re right: our lives are pledged to you, my lord. We will serve at your side for as long as you live, risking all, and when you pass beyond the veil permanently, we will go into the north and fade to nothingness for the rest of our days.” Old words, said formally, gravely. “We shall serve in whatever way you deem best; service to you is service to the realm at large. To the Fault Lands, and to the kingdom of Aeretoll, that great bastion of Northern strength.”
Then he lowered his chin, and emotion flared in his gaze. His voice softened. “We love and trust you, Náli. We place ourselves in your hands.”
Náli trembled inside; he felt like a struck gong. He swallowed and said, “Tomorrow, then. Valgrind shall fetch the diamonds and we’ll begin.”
“Today, you mean,” Klemens said, glancing toward the window. “The sun’s coming up.”
~*~
He sent the others off to eat and rest. He himself was supposed to sleep, at least for a few hours before he ensconced himself in the library and sent his mother’s messengers off with withering glances; Mattias even had the bed turned down and his tea warmed, shutters closed to keep out the watery sunlight. The room was dim save the light from the fire and the few candles at the bedside table. Mattias stood beside the bed, ready to tuck him in like a child.
Náli hung back, fiddling with the ties of his robe, feeling much less like a lord and much more like the boy he was beneath the magic and title.
