An abandoned boy, a grieving prince, and a reclusive sorcerer find themselves caught in a web of peril and mystery...
Domi, a young thief abandoned on the street at birth, just wants to save his dying foster mother. But first, he must survive the m...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"He was after this," Cerasus said and hurled the lapis translationis across the nave like it was not the most valuable artifact in his entire provincia.
The indigo stone thudded into the wall and landed at the alabaster toes of Praetor Acylos Decora's twelve-foot tall white marble statue. The victim of Silvula Salutis's ascension towered over them in his niche. He glared down at his usurper's descendent in silent judgment as the stone bounced once and clattered to a stop.
Valens lifted a brow. Those things were expensive.
"How dare that filthy Pyrrhaeus come here and steal from me—from me!—and attack my daughter?" The Praetor paused in his pacing to lift his chin and roar at the vaulted ceiling. "My daughter!"
"Edera seems to have exacted her revenge." At least Valens assumed as much, if the droplets of blood he found under the portico's archway meant anything. A lifeholder could open a person up without a scalpel, parting cell cleanly from cell. Edera was no physician, only a botanist like her father, but the lifeholder skill possessed many uses outside the surgical chamber.
"I don't care about her revenge. I'll have my revenge. I'll kill that little rat—"
Valens tuned out the rant and bent to pick up the lapis translationis. A couple chips marred the warm stone, but the cracks were small. He turned the promenia artifact over in his hands and frowned. Crimson threads striated the vibrant blue rock face.
"Are you sure this didn't collect any of her blood?" he interrupted, holding up the stone.
The Praetor paused his tirade. "What? Oh. Yes, I'm sure. She's too high-rank for it to work on her without her permission. Why? Has it been blooded?"
"Yes. Was someone scheduled to come in for Empowerment today?" A donor's prometus-laced blood could be stored for up to a year within a lapis translationis until the curia found a suitable Lightless candidate to receive it.
"No one specific, but a few hopefuls and the occasional feral always wander in. Arbita waits to find a donor until she's found a viable recipient." Cerasus fixed the stone with an icy glare. "But does the donation ever take? Ever give my curia enough new Empowered to meet my provincia's needs? No."
The Praetor's nostrils flared like those of an irate bull, and his head twisted to and fro like he was on the hunt for something else to throw.
Valens glanced at the lapis translationis in his hand and took a subtle step away from the pacing Praetor. No one would be able to craft a spare stone from forgeholder promenia crystals if Cerasus managed to destroy this one. Society lost the art over nine centuries ago, along with so much else the rebels of the Pyrrhaei Rebellion had destroyed.
He dropped the chipped stone into his pocket, where, with luck, the ancient promenia relic would not suffer more damage. Let Cerasus never say he did nothing for their curia.
"The procedure worked for the young worldholders you're trying to shove off on me," he pointed out.
"Those young worldholders are still in the adjustment period, so we cannot yet presume the Empowerment will take. And if it does, that will only satisfy me if you accept one as your alumna." Cerasus eyed him with a sour scowl as Valens declined to respond to the pointed remark. "But since you refuse to so much as see them, I want you to do something else for me today."
"What would that be?" Valens asked with instant suspicion.
"Go on a little hunt." Cerasus offered a dry smile. "One you'll like, as the task will take you away from the Collegium for a time."
He straightened with interest. He would do just about anything if it would let him escape the Collegium and all the obnoxious people milling around for a while. And duty. More importantly, he would be free to dodge duty.
Perhaps he might manage to extend his task long enough to skip the Rite of Remembrance. The yearly visit with their deceased Praetor's eidolon remained far too uncanny for his taste. Better to let the dead stay dead.
"What do you want me to do?"
"Catch that Pyrrhaei rat."
"And bring the rat back to you?"
"And get rid of him."
Valens frowned. "I'm no executioner."
Cerasus huffed and shook his head. "I can't let some murderous Pyrrhaeus rampage around my capital attacking defenseless Promethidae children, Valens."
Edera was the precise opposite of defenseless, but Valens saw no sense in pointing that fact out. The Praetor was beyond reason at the moment, and he did not blame the man. Cerasus's daughter could have died; several people overheard Edera's attacker threaten to break her neck.
"Why not let the city watch handle it?" Valens asked. "Or an Arborator, since it's a crime against a Lightbearer?"
"It's a crime against my daughter."
Valens sighed. If someone attacked his own siblings or parents, he supposed he would share Cerasus's fury and thirst for swift justice. And his childhood friend would deliver that justice in a heartbeat.
He held up a hand before the Praetor could fly back into a rage. "Fine, I'll deal with the matter for you. Just calm down, will you?"
His friend relaxed. "Do you need help finding him? I will send a lifeholder with you."
Valens shook his head. "No need. Finding him should be easy. He's bleeding."
The Praetor's brow furrowed. "You're no lifeholder. How do you plan to track—"
"Still unable to think beyond promenia, I see," Valens said and ignored the other man's glare. "I'll follow that." He dipped his chin.
Cerasus's gaze followed. One drop of blood dotted the basilica's polychrome marble floor. A few steps away, out on the portico, two more glistened. "Ah."
"I'll head out now."
"Do at least try to return for the Rite of Remem—" The Praetor broke off, his hand forming a fist at his side. "On second thought, no. Don't come back until that disgusting rat is dead."
Valens did not relish the grim task before him, but if it meant escaping the Rite of Remembrance, he was happy to oblige. "Very well. See you in a couple of hours."
