Lifeblood: Part II
an excerpt

Adney was afraid for his life.

He cursed at himself under his breath, pulling the large hood of his cloak towards his face to protect it from the torrential downpour. No one had expected this kind of rain today: the sky had been clear and cloudless and the winds calm for most of the day. Before dinner, though, a dark, dreadful storm had torn the sky apart, the kind of storm that caused shops to close early and children to hide under their beds for hours until calmed by their parents. Most saw such occurrences simply as an annoyance—an unexpected annoyance, perhaps, but nothing more than that. More superstitious folk said that it meant an innocent person had been unjustly killed before his time, and that the gods were weeping for that man.

On any other day, Adney would not be one of those superstitious men. But today was different. Today, his close friend had been murdered. And Adney believed he was next. He was sure of it, in fact—so sure of it that he was willing to do something he had sworn against doing years ago.

Taking a deep breath to try and calm his fears, Adney drew his hand into a fist and knocked one, two, three times on the gates to the arcane academy deep in the city of Arnithalla. There is still time, Adney thought to himself as the echo of the knocking was drowned out by the steady drone of falling rain. Nikolai can save me. He will know what to do.

A small voice inside his mind laughed bitterly back at him at that thought. You have never fully trusted Nikolai before. Why start now? Why, of all times, when your life could be at stake? He could be manipulating you before your very eyes—just like he always does.

Adney rolled his pale gray eyes in exasperation at himself. As much as I hate the man, I have no choice. Nikolai is a master at identifying arcane artifacts and magical items. Surely he will know something about this item I have discovered that will help protect my life. Surely, he will help me. He has to.

Momentarily distracted from his inner turmoil by a sudden sound, Adney jumped and let out a half-yelp in fear as a shadow leaped out of the alley beside him with a growl. He only relaxed when he realized it was a wild dog of some kind chasing a cat or other small creature out of the alley. I’m too bloody nervous, he thought to himself with another muttered curse. I don’t know what I was thinking. There’s no way Nikolai will take me seriously if I look like I’ve seen a ghost.

Adney tensed again nervously as the great doors to the academy groaned then slowly opened inward, creaking on their hinges. He relaxed again as a small woman, most likely one of the housekeeping staff at the academy, greeted him with a warm smile and motioned him inside with a polite “Please enter, sir.”

As Adney passed through the threshold, the woman opened her mouth to speak again, but before she could say anything, Adney interjected with a tone of urgency, “Nikolai. Archmagus Nikolai Vionne, I am here to see him. Please take me to his chambers.”

Adney closed his eyes and shuddered again as a particularly loud rumble of thunder shook the stone walls, but he said nothing more. The woman blinked and smiled nervously, replying as she waved him down the hallway, “Yes, sir, as you ask. The Archmagus’ quarters are just down this hallway, around the corner and to the left.” As they approached Nikolai’s private chambers, the girl curtsied with a forced smile and motioned him towards the doors. “Archmagus Nikolai can see you now. Feel free to enter.” With that, she quickly turned the corner and was gone, her footsteps on the carpeted floor quickly fading away to fill the hallway with silence once more.

Taking another deep breath and forcefully exhaling, Adney turned to the large, heavy doors leading into Nikolai’s chambers and knocked on it as he had on the academy’s front gates. To his surprise, the door creaked and opened slowly into the room, and Adney soon found himself alone inside the threshold. The chambers were as he remembered them before, back when he had visited Nikolai years ago when he had been elected as Archmagus of the academy. It seemed less organized than he recalled, however. An area on Nikolai’s desk once reserved for a stack of completed paper was covered with a pile of opened arcane tomes, bookmarks and hand-written notes sticking out from between their pages. The only window leading out of the room was covered with dust and cobwebs, and Adney suspected little light shone through it, even on a bright day. Even now the periodic flashes of lightning of the storm outside did little to illuminate the room; rather, a single candle resting on Nikolai’s desk provided dim atmospheric lighting.

Seeing no reason for hesitation now that he had come this far, Adney slowly walked into the room and browsed the contents of a bookshelf resting in the corner of the room away from the desk and a door into Nikolai’s auxiliary chambers. Most were books on arcane artifacts; several were on advanced arcane theories and practical applications of different magical spells, while others were texts on ancient history and geography.

But it wasn’t the books that drew Adney’s attention to the bookshelf; instead, hidden behind a large text on the ethics of modern arcane practices he saw what looked like a picture frame. He gently pulled the object out from behind the books and blew on it, expelling a layer of dust from its surface. His breath caught in his throat as, through an old, cracked glass cover, the image of Beatrice stared back at him with haunting eyes. The painting, while faded and worn, was beautiful. Nikolai’s wife had been even more beautiful when she was alive, but the picture truly was a work of art. Adney frowned as he gently caressed the glass cover, wondering why Nikolai kept the portrait of his wife hidden. Perhaps it causes him too much grief, he idly thought to himself. And by the gods, it probably did. No one should have to experience something like that. It just isn’t right.

Adney nearly dropped the portrait in surprise at the sound of footsteps coming from inside the adjacent room; it appeared that Nikolai was, in fact, still in his chambers. He hastily stuffed the portrait back into his hiding place and turned expectantly towards the door on the opposite wall. A jingle of keys was audible through the door, followed by a click of a lock opening before Nikolai opened the door and entered the primary chambers. He made eye contact with Adney and hesitated only for a fraction of a second, then turned around and fumbled for the keys in his hand to lock the door behind him leading into his auxiliary chambers. Adney thought he saw a large, silver object, perhaps a tall mirror, through the crack in the doorway as Nikolai locked the door with a quiet click of turning gears. He said nothing, causing the silence between the two magi to become almost tangible.

Finally, Nikolai turned slowly around and offered a small smile and the slightest of head nods to Adney before taking a seat at his desk along the wall. Returning the customary greeting of a magi showing deference to the Archmagus, Adney bowed lower back in response with a polite “Good evening, Archmagus.”

Nikolai glanced over Adney, his hawk-like eyes appearing to bore into him. Adney fought the urge to squirm or fidget out of nervousness, as he often did out of anxiety or habit. After a long pause, Nikolai picked up a pair of golden spectacles and placed them on the bridge of his nose, directing his gaze to his desk where he seemed to be reading an administrative report on something. Finally, he stated aloud in a neutral tone, “Good evening, Adney.”

Adney blinked, amazed at the Archmagus’ reaction. He had been expecting anger or frustration, perhaps guilt, although he had been hoping against odds for a response of happiness or salutation. Indifference, even apathy, was not something he was prepared for. Shifting his weight and coughing slightly, he stated in what was hopefully an equally neutral tone, “I know it has been some time since my last visit, Archmagus, but—”

A dry, mirthless chuckle from the Archmagus interrupted Adney, who swallowed the rest of his words as his face reddened slightly. “I am sorry, Nikolai, but since I have left the academy it has become increasingly difficult to find the time and the means to visit. Surely you must understand this.”

“You left the academy because you didn’t want to be near me,” Nikolai retorted with a frown as his eyebrows furrowed. “You have been avoiding me,” he stated flatly. It wasn’t a question.

Adney opened his mouth to explain, but simply sighed as his words failed him. In truth, the Archmagus was right. Adney had left because he had not trusted the Archmagus, and he had been afraid of his appetite for more power—not just for himself, but for all magi. If Nikolai had his way, the magi would rule the nation, not a stubborn king and the rest of his royal family. But there was no point in discussing this aloud; Nikolai was the Archmagus, and he would have the final words in the argument no matter what.

So, rather than start another losing argument, Adney changed subjects. Taking a small breath, he stated in a hushed tone, “Mordecai is dead, Nikolai.”

The Archmagus’ gaze flickered up from the report at his desk and then back to his papers, happening so quickly that at first Adney almost believed he had imagined it. But then Nikolai leaned back in his chair and pressed his fingertips to his temples, massaging them as he exhaled forcefully. “I know,” Nikolai replied as he shook his head slightly. “I read the report less than an hour ago, just before you came in. A tragic event, especially considering he has not stepped within the walls of Arnithalla in years. He was a terribly good informant of mine.” He seemed…disappointed, somehow, not upset or distraught.

A wave of repulsion washed briefly over Adney. An informant? Is that all he cares about? Adney thought to himself, shaking his head in surprise. A damn good magus is dead, and all he cares about is that he’s lost a valuable source of information. “He was murdered, Archmagus. I’m almost certain of it.”

Nikolai’s head jerked up in response this time, and he studied Adney again with those piercing eyes. “What makes you suspect this, Adney? Do you know something about his death?”

“No,” Adney replied hastily, shaking his head defensively. “I don’t do anything. But I found his body lying in the alley near the inn I knew he was staying at. I sensed the residues of magic all over the alley, and especially on him. He didn’t look harmed, but the magical auras I studied reek of foul play.”

A look of intense anger flashed over Nikolai’s face for the briefest of moments, only to be replaced yet again with that stony, neutral expression. “So this killer was a talented magus, but not talented enough to cover his tracks.”

“Yes, it appears that way,” Adney nodded as he tried to maintain eye contact with Nikolai. After a moment, though, his vision fell and he studiously examined the carpet on the floor. Another long, awkward silence filled the room, until Adney added in a whisper, “I’m afraid, Nikolai. I think this man intends to kill me next.”

Nikolai frowned again and leaned forward in his seat, placing his fingertips together and staring at Adney with concern. “And what makes you believe this to be connected to you, Adney? It is possible that Mordecai’s killer did not know of your connection with him.”

Adney half shook his head, saying nothing at first. I must tell him, he once again tried to convince himself. There’s no other way. I need his protection. Taking a deep breath, he hesitantly explained as he took a seat opposite of the Archmagus’ desk, “There is some information that I shared with Mordecai when I met with him earlier this week, information about a dangerous artifact I have heard rumors about. I’ve been receiving reports of mysterious deaths and other unexplained behavior near a location to the north. At first I was merely distraught and upset, as these deaths were of magi I had thought were very capable men. I had placed them in charge of some of my shipments and business arrangements in my branch to the north. I had thought these men to be very talented, to the point that the hazards associated with working with potentially dangerous arcane items should have been beneath them.

“But as I continued hearing these reports, they became increasingly more disturbing. Others working at a nearby location began to exhibit signs of confusion and dementia, others outright insanity. There have been rumors of spirit activity, of some unknown creatures preying on their minds.”

Nikolai frowned, replying, “And you believe these rumors?”

“No,” Adney shook his head, “I don’t. At least, I didn’t. But it was my duty to those magi to look into the matter further, so I did a bit of investigation from some reports I had of the location. It turns out that the symptoms were limited to magi working on some of the shipments that passed through an area that, according to rumors, was once sacred ground. A crypt, or graveyard of some kind, is supposed to be there. More disturbingly, though, I heard numerous reports containing vague references to some kind of artifact rumored to exist there that is very dangerous, even deadly, to those that come in contact with it.” Adney shifted in his seat, the fear and anxiety on his face growing in intensity.

“Interesting,” murmured Nikolai, glancing down to scribble something down at his desk on a piece of parchment. “Please, continue,” he asked without glancing up from his notes.

Adney nodded with a frown, continuing, “I visited the royal library in Arnithalla to look for records of any such crypt or artifact, but I found nothing in its records. I then contacted a colleague here at the academy, who helped me browse the academy’s library. According to some obscure records I managed to find at the library—which, believe me, was not nearly as easy as it may sound—there is indeed a crypt of some kind there. I found two copies of the same report, but one had the information about the crypt edited out. What disturbs me the most is that every other record I found regarding the location was either missing or edited in some way to exclude the information about that crypt.” Adney’s voice became faster and higher pitched as he continued, his mind racing as the potential implications of his findings flittered through his mind.

Nikolai stared at Adney with his eyes boring into his own, an expression of anger on his face. Adney paled under that gaze and swallowed forcefully, slightly moving his chair back away from the desk. He did not know whether the Archmagus was upset that he had consulted the academy’s library without his permission, or whether he was insulted at the suggestion that someone had purposefully edited official academy records. The Archmagus said nothing for a long moment, simply glancing back down at his notes and hastily scribbling more onto the parchment. Adney was confused, not sure what to say or do; he had never seen the Archmagus so uncharacteristically silent like this before.

Finally, Nikolai looked up from his notes and stated, “While intriguing, I still don’t understand what this has to do with Mordecai’s death or your anxiety.”

Adney blinked, explaining simply with raised eyebrows, “I contacted Mordecai about my findings because the supposed location of this crypt was very close to his home. I did not mention the location in my letter to him, but when he arrived in the city, I described what I had heard and told him that I needed his help.” He swallowed again, adding sheepishly with an expression of guilt, “Unfortunately, I was so eager to pass this information on that I forgot to do it in a fully private location. I’m worried that we were overheard, and that someone is trying to silence us to cover up the truth.”

Nikolai’s eyes narrowed, sharpening into threatening slits, but he said nothing. He continued to stare at Adney as if judging his worth, causing Adney to shift again in his seat uncomfortably. Slowly, Nikolai replied, “I see. And what is my part in this? If you are so afraid that you are being hunted for knowing something you were not supposed to know, why have you decided to inform me of what you have found?”

Adney paled, replying after another long pause in a pleading voice, “Nikolai, you are a master of understanding arcane artifacts. Even if you can’t help me locate and neutralize the artifact that may be hurting and killing the men working for me…to be honest, I need your protection. My life may be in danger, and you are the strongest, most talented magus I know. I had no choice. I had to tell you.” There; he had said it aloud, and that was that. There was no taking back those words, now.

Nikolai nodded slightly himself, his eyebrows furrowed into a frown as he opened the drawer to his desk and pulled something out of it. In a curious voice, Nikolai asked as he continued to gaze down at the object in his hands, “And how many others have you told about this crypt, and this artifact? Besides Mordecai?”

Adney blinked, confused for a moment. Thinking to himself, he replied hesitantly, “No one else, Nikolai. Only you.” As the words came out of his mouth, he felt the hairs at the back of his neck stand up. His own frown deepened on his face, and he shifted in his seat again. Something was very…odd about Nikolai. Something wasn’t right. Is it something he knows? he thought to himself worriedly. Have I done something wrong?

Nikolai made a very small motion with his right hand, followed by a flick of his right wrist, although Adney couldn’t see what Nikolai was doing underneath the desk. However, another wave of anxiety passed over him as he thought he saw a brief flash of light from underneath the table. Is he using magic?

As Nikolai stood up, everything became startlingly clear. In his right hand, the Archmagus held a bloodred dagger-shaped object—it was a reservoir, Adney was sure of it—and a small drop of blood from a fresh cut on Nikolai’s left palm dripped from its tip. Adney groaned at the sight of it—except, he realized with a new wave of horror, that he couldn’t. He couldn’t open his mouth; something, perhaps a gag of air, was holding it shut so that all he could do was vocalize gutturally. He tried to stand up from his chair, but his legs refused to move. In fact, he realized very quickly, his entire body was trapped in solid encasing of air.

Despairingly, Adney thought to himself with a mental groan, It was a trap! I should never have come here. I should never have trusted Nikolai! But it was too late. He was helpless, defenseless, against the Archmagus.

Nikolai studied Adney with a new expression this time, his eyes wide and wild with…what? Excitement? Insanity? He couldn’t tell which emotions were guiding Nikolai’s behavior, but whatever the man was thinking, it clearly lacked any rational thought. The man was a raving lunatic, that much he was sure of; how had he failed to see it before?

Adney could do nothing but watch in horror as Nikolai turned his left hand over and began to very neatly, precisely trace a complex set of symbols into his skin with the tip of the reservoir. As he drew the blade across his palm, the crystalline object began to glow with an inner light, resonating with the magic flowing in Nikolai’s veins. From his vantage point in his chair, Adney wasn’t able to identify the spell based on the particular motions Nikolai was making, but he could tell it was an extremely complex spell. Most likely, it was something that used a complex combination of different schools of magic, and one that he had never seen used before.

The patterns on his hand now complete, Nikolai turned his attention back to Adney and slowly walked towards him, blood slowly dripping out of the neat cuts on his palm. Adney was helpless to stop the Archmagus, who reached over and placed his palm directly to Adney’s forehead.

“Your power will help me, Adney,” the Archmagus murmured in a distant tone as a wave of power and pain began to flow through the blood and into his forehead. “Soon it will all be over. Soon, I will be complete again,” he spoke to himself in a hushed whisper.

Adney was unable to scream, the gag of air preventing sound from escaping his throat. The world exploded into fire around him, the air shimmering before his eyes as wracks of pain tore through his mind. He felt an odd ripping sensation within him, then nothing as everything faded to a mindless, numbing black silence.

***

Nikolai watched with a small, childlike giggle as Adney’s lifeless form crumpled before him, his simple bonds of air dissipating. It had been easy, almost too easy. His plan had worked better than he ever could have hoped for: Mordecai and Adney, the only two to ever hear of this arcane artifact, were no longer a threat to him. More importantly, he now had a better idea about where to continue his search for the artifact.

Nikolai glanced back down at his arm, clenching his fist. As per the mysterious effects of the spell, the self-inflicted cuts on his palm had sealed over already. His heart raced, a wave of power washing over him as the magic that had been attached to Adney’s blood now flowed through his veins. The spell was simple, really. All magi had a magical force present inside their body, which was mystically connected to their blood. At one point millennia ago, the magic was all-present throughout the magi, allowing them to tap and channel their arcane power without a physical sacrifice. But the power of magi had waned over the years, and now could only be activated by tapping into the arcane power in their blood. This spell he used, the one that he was truly Attuned to, broke that connection. He could manipulate and break that connection in order to sap the victim of his own magical power, adding it to his own. Although the stress of the ordeal left each victim dead and lifeless, it permanently boosted his own power.

Well, not all of them died, Nikolai thought bitterly to himself. Only one, the child Aidan Paetreal, had somehow been able to resist the effects of his powerful spell. True, he had been less powerful when he had tried it, much less powerful than he now was—but the boy had only been a mere infant! The fact that Aidan’s natural magical defenses had been powerful enough at his age to withstand the full arcane might of a magus such at himself was incomprehensible. Aidan’s power had been so strong that he had grown obsessed with stealing it somehow at another time. When Aidan’s powers had manifested naturally as a teenager, and the boy had been sent to the academy to learn to harness his power, Nikolai had been ecstatic. Now, he was growing impatient.

Nikolai had realized in a spurt of arcane brilliance that, if he had enough power, he could question the very rules that governed the magic itself. Normally, casting a resurrection spell was so taxing and complex that the user had to sacrifice his own life in order to breathe life back into the deceased. But Nikolai believed that this unnecessary martyrdom was a consequence of the dilution of magical power over the years, and that he could overcome it—essentially, avoid it altogether—by simply increasing his own power.

Doing this was no easy task. Through the use of the reservoir he had managed to obtain from that street urchin in the city, and by sapping the magical energy from specific targets throughout Arnithalla over the course of many long years, he believed he was now strong enough to steal Aidan’s powers. Nikolai had deceived the boy and kept Aidan behind in his training for long enough that, while Aidan’s powers had developed very little, Nikolai’s own had grown tremendously. Now, it was just a matter of time before he could arrange for the two of them to be together and explain his untimely, unfortunate death to the rest of the academy without creating any more suspicion.

Once he had the boy’s power, controlling this dangerous artifact would be no challenge for him. Nikolai knew he would be infinitely more powerful than any of the fools working for Adney could ever be, and no cursed crypt could cause him that much trouble. Alexis’ trickery had worked as planned, and Mordecai’s death had caused Adney to come running into his grasp as planned. Still, he would need to have a few choice words with the Lady of Storms regarding her methods, especially if a magus as naïve and untalented as Adney was able to detect her handiwork with such ease. He had ordered her to make it obvious, yes, but not that obvious.

As he mulled over the problem of how to rid himself of Aidan, a thought passed through Nikolai’s mind, causing him to blink and then laugh aloud at the sheer brilliance of it. Could it really be that simple? Nikolai thought to himself, shaking his head as he stared at Adney’s lifeless form once again.

If everything went according to his plan—and everything always did—then in a month’s time, he would be standing in the company of his soul mate Beatrice once again. All in good time, Nikolai thought to himself with another burst of maniacal laughter. All in good time.