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He stared down at his slain employer. His chest knotted with too many emotions to unravel.
Could Tenah have…
No. There had to be another conclusion. Another Chaos caster on the isle. There were probably dozens hidden in this city alone.
But after the incident in the field, and then the determined rage in her eyes the night she’d tended to his wounds, it was hard not to jump to her as a suspect. She had no recollection of how she’d ended up in that field. What if someone had been using her? Controlling her like Kherathi had controlled those feingrot the night of the gathering?
Terror gripped his chest, squeezing tightly.
Avoiding the blood spatter, he nudged the body onto its back. Boedworth’s pale, bloated face stared blankly up at the ceiling.
Renton tried to think logically. Regardless of who or what had caused this and why, he needed to notify someone. Hass might be a good start. The assassin had proven to be a reliable go-between with Izral so far.
He turned down the hall and froze when he spied a cracked door. He’d made certain to shut them all.
With silent footsteps, he crept toward the door and nudged it open with a boot. An overwhelming stench of Chaos, leather, and cigars rolled out. The office was dark, the single window boarded up tight, but there was the unmistakable outline of a shadow sitting behind the desk.
Crimson sparks erupted from the man’s fingers casting eerie shadows over his features. Lord Kherathi lit a metal lantern on the desk before leaning back in the chair and interlocking his hands behind his head.
“Good evening,” he said, his accent thick.
Renton stood paralyzed in the doorway as the shard in his chest throbbed. “You. You killed Boedworth.”
Kherathi’s gaze was far sharper than normal for someone lost to Chaos. “He was one of many High Court members aligned with the enemy.”
Brows rising, Renton eyed the twin daggers laid out on the desk. Kherathi’s body count probably made Vesara look like a saint. How were there no markings on the lord’s skin? No blackened veins? He’d witnessed the cost Tenah and his brother had paid after a single use of dark magic.
“And who exactly is the enemy of a mass-murdering assassin?” Renton questioned, jaw muscles tensing.
Kherathi motioned for him to take a seat. Renton knew he should have drawn his blade and thrust it into the lord’s chest, but lately, he’d been feeling less like himself. He crossed the room and sat in the empty chair facing the desk.
“I don’t think I need to recite Boedworth’s crimes to you,” Kherathi said. “If anything, you should be thanking me for saving you the trouble of killing him. I’m sure you’re aware of the reason he was targeting casters such as myself.”
“All I know is he was under the delusion that he’d bought the Boglands’ safety with your head,” Renton said, tracing a thumb along the scar on the back of his hand. One of a hundred reminders not to ask questions. Three hunters had held him down while Boedworth had stabbed a hot letter opener clean through his hand.
“Adra’s king plans to use Chaos to force open the portals between isles. Cirel wants war on a scale Advanth never dreamed of,” Kherathi explained.
“Impossible. Not even the elders can awaken them now.”
Nithril had siphoned every last drop of his power into the complex spell that had sealed the portals, a heroic effort to slow Corruption’s spread. Renton would never forget how it had impacted his family. How it had lengthened his father’s travel time on hunts.
Kherathi hefted his boots onto the desk, littering the surface with clumps of dried mud. “Cirel’s been experimenting with dark magic to reopen them. Expanding his network to find Chaos casters and shards of a very rare crystal.”
This information unfurled more than one petal of unease in Renton’s chest. “What is the purpose of these shards?”
“They are the only inanimate objects capable of storing powerful magic. Healers once used them in their practices. Thanks to Advanth’s blood sacrifice, the last crystal formation in Roan’s Wake became the key to shifting the tides of war. We used the shards to trap the Chaotic souls of Cirel’s war beasts.”
Renton clutched at the arms of his chair as the room tilted in his vision.
“It gets more disturbing,” Kherathi said, his blackened irises watchful of Renton’s reactions. “The shards are not a permanent solution. Quickly, we discovered that theyhungered. In order to keep the beasts imprisoned, we had to implant them inside living vessels. We gathered a few loyal Ashens to carry them, assuming their mental abilities would permit us insight into when the shards would need to be moved into new vessels before Corruption took root. Only, that didn’t always work out as planned.”
Fuck. Renton clenched his hands into fists. What the fuck was living inside of him? Suddenly, his chest crawled with what felt like hundreds of insects.
He forced a deep breath. He had to keep it together. He couldn’t let Kherathi know his secret.
“That is…jam-packed with things I’d like to unload,” Renton muttered with a shake of his head. “Cirel would have been a child at the time of the war, right?”
Kherathi didn’t even blink. “I’ve been playing this game with him for longer than anyone realizes. Even before he sank his teeth into my daughter.”
