Chapter 41 – Dire Councils
“And just who,” the Empress asked frostily, “are you supposed to be? Who is that strange woman? And just what is that furred creature who just easily slew Erevex? I have had quite enough surprises for the day, and I don’t want to deal with any more. I want answers now.”
Zull drew up to a halt, a few paces in front of the Empress and the rest of the courtiers, who watched him with a mixture of bemusement and annoyance. He dropped to one knee, bowing as deeply as he could before her. “Your majesty,” he said humbly. “My name is Zull Tyrell. That is my sister, Zaphyr Tyrell. She is currently tending to Sir Kyr, a knight cruelly twisted by hemomancy into the monstrous form you see by the actions of another. Despite his appearance, he has nobly guarded us on our quest. We were the apprentices of Gerok the hemomancer, who used to serve in your court. He was slain by the Master, Prince Blyth. However, before dying, he tasked us to meet with you and deliver his warning of Blyth’s threat to your throne.” He winced slightly as he looked up, his gaze meeting with hers. “We were too late and have failed you.”
“I am sure you did what you could,” General Steroth said sympathetically. “The Master took us all by surprise, Zull Tyrell.”
The Empress considered what Zull had just told her, tapping her chin with one finger as she mulled it over. “Gerok lived in Varin.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” Zull said.
“You mean to tell me that the three of you traveled all the way from Varin, to warn me about the Master?”
Zull nodded his head once, trying to keep the worry he felt off his face. Everything will have been for less than worthless if the Empress thinks we are lying, or worse.
The Empress studied Zull’s face intently, checking for any sign of deception. Satisfied, she said at last, “As I said, I have had many surprises today. I am glad to see that they aren’t all unpleasant. In my eyes, you and your sister have fulfilled your duties, Zull Tyrell. You will always have my gratitude for saving me from that traitor, Captain Erevex. I will see to it that you and your sister are honored for your duty to my empire. You shall live comfortable lives in Varin for your service to the throne.”
Zull didn’t know what to make of that. To make it all this way, to be told that they had done their duty, brought a sense of relieved peace to him that he hadn’t felt in weeks. However, he also knew he could not simply accept this reward and leave in a clear conscience. “Our work is not finished yet, Your Majesty. The Master is still out there.”
“I am well aware,” the Empress said, somewhat crossly, “but he is no longer your concern. I shall deal with this from here.” Turning her back on Zull to face General Steroth, she instructed him, saying, “First, we must reassert control of the Summer Palace and the surrounding area, General. Once we have done so, we must work as secretively as possible, then find out which of the garrisons are still loyal to us and which have sold out to that traitorous fool. Then, we can work to retake the Winter Palace.”
“As you wish, My Empress,” General Steroth said, bowing once as he did so. “It will be done.”
“Don’t underestimate the Master,” Zull said warningly. “He’s a cunning, powerful individual.”
“I know more about Prince Blyth than you ever could, child,” the Empress said bitingly, clearly bothered by Zull’s interruptions. “Your part in this is done; you saved my life, for which you shall be suitably rewarded, but you children simply cannot help with defeating Prince Blyth’s rebellion.”
Zull, clenching his fists at his side, tried his best to hide his frustration. “There’s something else you don’t know, Empress.”
General Steroth frowned. “You should show more respect, boy. The Empress has humored you more than she already has needed to, by letting you waste her precious time at all, when we are dealing with such a crisis-”
“Prince Blyth is a hemomancer,” Zull said, cutting the general off.
The Empress stared at him in absolute disbelief. “Impossible. There was no way he could have hidden something like that from us all for so long.”
Zull smiled bitterly. “Gerok’s death, among countless others, would beg to differ.” He gestured to where Sir Kyr had collapsed, Zaphyr still standing over him. “We came all this way, suffered so much, to tell you this, Your Majesty: never underestimate the Master. If you want to best him, Empress, you will need the help of every ally you can muster, including the three of us.”
General Steroth, offended on the Empress’ behalf, began drawing his sword, but the Empress raised a warning hand. Reluctantly, he sheathed his weapon. “You are bold, boy. Bold, rash, and unbelievably arrogant,” the Empress said scathingly. A smile slowly worked its way across her face. “Fortunately for you, those are all traits that I admire. As you say, you are more familiar with the ‘Master’ and his techniques than the rest of us. What course of action did you have in mind?”
“The longer that the Master has to entrench himself in the Winter Palace, the harder it will be to dislodge him,” Zull said. “And what’s more, he has Prince Grevel hostage. I don’t know what he has planned for him, but it cannot be good. If you were to take my advice, Your Majesty, I would recommend striking tonight. He’s confident in his victory and won’t have properly prepared for a counterattack just yet. This may be the best chance to end his threat to your throne you will ever get.”
“As surprising as it is to me to say this, Your Majesty, but the young man speaks sense,” General Steroth admitted. “A swift attack would be to our advantage, before news of our countercoup can reach Prince Blyth.”
“Very well,” the Empress said. “General Steroth, send a message to the army; mobilize them to attack the Winter Palace before the night ends.” She smiled slightly. “Just as Prince Blyth did hours ago, we shall use the Jubilee celebration as cover to make our moves.” General Steroth walked out of the ballroom, leaving the courtiers gathered around the Empress and Zull to stare at the young man in astonishment. “So, you two served as Gerok’s apprentices for some time, then, I take it?” the Empress asked.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Zull said with a slight bow. “I hope that it would not be boastful to say that he taught us well.”
The Empress smiled slightly. “Oh, I’m not surprised. A more ingenious hemomancer I never saw. He served us well, and he proved his loyalty more times than I can count, especially in his exposure of his own master, Vasil Reinhand, and his crimes. The madman had been performing profane rituals beneath the Winter Palace.”
Zull’s expression clouded as he tried to process this new piece of information. “What?”
“Oh yes,” the Empress said. “He’s been rotting in the dungeons for decades as a result. A just punishment if you ask me; killing him would have ended that vicious brute’s suffering.”
“What rituals specifically, Your Majesty?” Zull asked.
“He had been striving to violate the Third Unthinkable. Reaching a dead end in his own work, he tried to bring his apprentice in on his scheme, hoping that the promise of such power would overcome Gerok’s own morality and loyalty. It did not,” the Empress said. “Why? Surely it isn’t important.”
Zull frowned, then began nervously pacing back and forth. “It’s just a hunch, Your Majesty, but I fear I know exactly what Prince Blyth wants to accomplish, and what part Prince Grevel will play in it,” Zull said. “If I am right, then we cannot move quickly enough to attack the Winter Palace.”
“What are you talking about? Explain yourself!” the Empress demanded.
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“Vasil Reinhand and the Master may well be working together,” Zull said, brow pulling together as his frown deepened. “The Master’s greatest weakness is his physical ailment, something he is all too aware of. When my sister and I confronted him, he made a comment to the effect that he would soon no longer be so weak.”
The Empress froze for a second, her mouth opening in a small “oh” sound. “Of course…why didn’t I see it before. With Vasil’s help, he can steal his cousin’s strength and vitality for himself.” Her expression darkened. “What a monster. To think that my own son would be capable of stooping to such depraved depths.”
As Zull continued to explain his theories to the Empress, Zaphyr continued frantically working to save Sir Kyr’s life. As soon as he had collapsed, she had rushed over, distraught, to see what had happened. Reaching out with her hemomantic senses, even as comparatively untrained as she still was, she knew instantly that matters were very dire for the knight. The last blood bindings in his body, forged long ago by Aldus Phlegm, were breaking down completely. Without their magic to sustain him, his body was rejecting the animal limbs and organs which had been forcibly attached to him. In a matter of hours, if not less, he would die.
“No, no, no,” Zaphyr had said aloud, sweat beading on her brow. Working mostly by instinct, she began frantically working with her hemomancy to patch and repair him as she could, staunching a wound causing internal bleeding here, helping a malfunctioning organ there. But, for every issue she solved, three more seemed to pop up. Sir Kyr’s breathing became shallower and shallower, and he sank further and further into the coma he had fallen into. Her arms shaking from the effort, Zaphyr dropped them to her side. “It will not end like this,” Zaphyr whispered. “I refuse to let it.” Turning, she strode over to Zull, who stood beside a worried looking Empress, who fanned herself as she chewed on her lower lip, contemplating what Zull had just told her.
“Zull,” Zaphyr said plaintively. “Come with me; I need your help.”
“In a minute,” Zull told her distractedly. “The Empress and I are trying to plan-”
Zaphyr grabbed her brother by the arm, so tightly that he winced in pain. Pulling on him with a sudden sharp tug, she spun him to look her dead in the eyes. Upon seeing her expression, he stopped what he was saying, swallowed loudly once, then in a softer tone, asked, “what is it?”
“Sir Kyr is dying. Right now,” Zaphyr told him. “We have to save him.”
“I…I don’t know how,” Zull confessed, looking ashamedly at the ground. “The blood bindings that Phlegm made were incredibly complex, and Sangue only managed to teach me the very basics before she disappeared…”
Squeezing his arm still tighter, Zaphyr hissed and said, “We already made one pair of blood bindings! I don’t care whether you think you’re capable or not; you can do this, Zull. You’re the smartest person I know.”
Zull gave a quick side glance to the Empress, who still appeared lost in thought. “Very well,” he said. “Tell me what you want me to do.”
Pulling her brother by the arm, Zaphyr dragged him back over to where Sir Kyr laid. By now, his breathing had halted almost altogether. His eyes had rolled back into his head, and his tongue hung limply from the side of his open mouth. It would be a pathetic sight if the twins didn’t find it so heartrending.
Kneeling beside Zaphyr, the first thing that Zull did was pick up Sir Kyr’s sword, which had fallen from his hand beside him. He ran the blade across his palm, leaving him with a narrow cut. We’ve gained so many scars on this journey, Zull thought distractedly as he drew the requisite blood from his palm. Zaphyr, who had gashed her own palm open earlier, pulled forth her own blood as well. As she used her hemomancy, the twin pools of blood were swirled together, forming into a tiny ruby sphere which hung before her. “It’s so beautiful and horrible, simultaneously,” she mused quietly. “Will the mixture work?”
“I don’t know,” Zull admitted. “This is far, far more theoretical than Sangue’s teachings ever were. What I am hoping will happen is that by tying us both to the binding, it will combine to amplify their power, as Sir Kyr will be tied to not one, but two hemomancers. Conversely, it could destabilize the bindings, pulling them apart.”
“Only one way to find out,” Zaphyr said grimly. Using his own sword, she lightly grazed Sir Kyr’s arm, then drew forth his blood to add to the mixture. It was dark, far darker than a human’s blood should have been, and with a thick, viscous consistency that emphasized his poor health. It did not mix evenly with the twins’ own blood, creating a spotted swirling mixture, the sight of which would have made Zaphyr nauseous were her mind not focused so thoroughly on other matters.
“What do I do now?” Zaphyr asked in a hushed voice.
“You’ll need to paint it on his body. The design should look something like this.” Moving a finger through the air, he demonstrated the vague shape of the pattern, a circle surrounded by several smaller symbols. “At least, I think so. This binding should help to strengthen and reenforce his body, prevent it from rejecting the wolf flesh.”
Zaphyr wordlessly did as her brother suggested, the blood moving through the air in a swirl of red, splattering on his fur on his chest, arms, and legs, creating five seals in the shape Zull had described. He studied the markings, giving small corrections here and there to Zaphyr’s work. Then, noting that Sir Kyr had almost ceased breathing altogether, he said, “Now, burn them into him. Think of it like ‘pushing’ on the blood with your hemomancy.”
Zaphyr did as Zull commanded, screwing her eyes shut to work with total concentration. The sizzle of burnt fur and flesh hung in the air, putrid, and faint wisps of smoke rose from where the sigils branded themselves onto his skin. Once they were finished, Zull and Zaphyr stood up, studying their work. For a second, Sir Kyr stopped breathing altogether, and the twins tensed up, worried that they had made a fatal flaw somewhere which had inadvertently slain their friend. Then, Sir Kyr coughed once, then began breathing again at a steady, calmer rate. Slowly, his eyes opened and refocused, and he looked up at the twins, understanding intuitively what they had done.
“You saved my life,” he said, a statement of plain fact rather than question. “How many times have you done so now?”
“I’ve lost track,” Zull said with the ghost of a smile. “After everything you have done, consider us even, I suppose.”
Sir Kyr tried to lift himself off the ground and sit up but lacked the strength. He turned his head to look at the twins, and said, “you should have let me die.”
“How could you say something like that?” Zaphyr asked, aghast.
Sir Kyr chuckled weakly, but the sorrow in his eyes was plain to see. “My life is living torment, Zaphyr. I am in constant pain, I am shunned by society, and I live only to fight and kill. My quest is complete; I brought the two of you, alive, to the Empress. It would be better for me now to die.”
“That’s not the Sir Kyr I know,” Zull said. “To give up, to surrender, is not the way of the knight.” He held out his hand to Sir Kyr.
After a moment of consideration, Sir Kyr took his hand, and Zull helped the weak knight slowly get back to his feet. “I suppose, since the deed is done now, there is nothing to do but soldier on. However, I still feel ill, and quite weak,” Sir Kyr admitted, holding a claw to his side.
“I’m nowhere near the expert at blood bindings that Phlegm was.” Zull studied the knight, his characteristic thoughtful frown appearing once more. “They may need to be reapplied in the future, frequently, until exact the right bindings can be found to permanently stabilize your body. For the moment, however, you won’t die.”
“I suppose I should consider that good news,” Sir Kyr said wryly. Zull and Zaphyr both smiled. Turning then, Zull saw that the Empress and a group of worried looking nobles were standing a short distance away, watching them.
“I see that I greatly underestimated you and your sister, Zull Tyrell,” the Empress said humbly. “You fought your way across the empire, continually thwarting my son’s attempts to have you slain. And I have just witnessed you perform an act of hemomancy which many fully trained hemomancers would hesitate to enact, saving a man’s life in the process. Gerok would have been inordinately proud of you both.”
Zull and Zaphyr both bowed humbly. “We cannot express how much your compliments mean to us, Your Majesty,” Zaphyr said.
At that moment, General Steroth returned, his expression one of triumph. “The Palace is ours, Your Majesty,” he declared. “With the help of those still loyal, we were able to round up all the Royal Guard. Most of them were simply interested in pain, and lacked any real commitment to Prince Blyth’s coup. When they saw that the battle had swung against them, they universally surrendered.”
“Excellent,” the Empress said with satisfaction. “What is your plan from here, General?”
“As the young man advised, we must return to Melkis post haste, gather the garrison, and assault the Winter Palace,” General Steroth said. “I believe we can do so within a matter of hours, Your Majesty. Should all go according to plan, this foolish attempt at a coup will be cut short before the sun has risen.”
“Let us not become too confident, lest we repeat my son’s mistakes,” the Empress cautioned. “However, I agree; we must act with all expediency. Take those men you deem still trustworthy and depart for Melkis, General. Oh, and one more thing: bring the Tyrell twins with you.”
General Steroth blinked. “Your Majesty?”
“Their actions have shown them to be competent individuals, capable of thinking quickly and surviving great peril,” the Empress said. “Besides, as we have now learned, my son is quite the formidable hemomancer himself; having these two will help to even the balance of power, so to speak.”
“As you command, Empress,” General Steroth said.
“If they shall go, then I shall go as well,” Sir Kyr said.
Zull glanced at the wolfen knight with worry. “Not this time, Sir Kyr. You nearly died only a few minutes ago. You need time to rest and heal.”
“I have seen this venture out this far; I will see it to the end,” Sir Kyr insisted. “For Vard and Vyle’s sakes.”
“I…very well,” Zull said at last.
The Empress looked across the small group, flicking her fan once. “Then, if we are all in agreement…”
“Tonight, the self-proclaimed ‘Master’ will fall,” General Steroth declared.
“Gerok and the rest shall be avenged,” Zull said.
“We will finally be able to rest,” Zaphyr added.
“And our quest will be complete,” Sir Kyr said, bowing his head.
“Then go,” the Empress said. “And make it so.”