Page 98 of Anathema

“Perhaps.” He blew a resigned breath and slumped back into his chair. “Though, they’ve always been rather straightforward.” Exhaling a breath, the mage shook his head. “If the plague is unleashed, then that means …”

“Someone, or something, will kill the prince. My question is … how many of your visions actually come to pass?”

The old mage pressed his lips to a flat line. “All of them. So far. I’ve a couple in the works.”

“What are the others?”

Dolion waved his hand in dismissal. “Certainly not a plague. So, the prince must be protected at all costs,” he said, changing the subject.

“Yes. In a fortnight, Princess Calisza’s Becoming is going to bring nobility from all over Aethyria. Including the Solassions.”

“Gods’ teeth, whyever would he risk that his daughter would end up with one of the brutal beasts for the evening?” It wasn’t that the Solassions looked like actual beasts. On the contrary, with their blond hair, bronzed skin, and blue eyes, they were considered exceptionally attractive by most.

Zevander wasn’t most.

“Social graces,” Zevander muttered. “In the meantime, you will continue to lay low and keep the bloodstones hidden.”

“Of course. Though, it might be considered wise to hide the bloodstones somewhere else.”

Zevander snorted and reached for his empty glass from earlier and filled it again, before kicking back a long swill. “Surely, you’re not considering the mortal lands.”

“Of course not. If Cadavros resides there, we’d be handing him six of the seven stones. I was thinking the home of my birth. Calyxar.”

An island of predominantly Elvynira in the south. A world of mountains and ice. If Zevander thought Nyxteros winters were cold, they were nothing in comparison.

“Cleaving?” Zevander asked.

“Too far, I’m afraid. But even if I could, the Elvynira take great care in making sure no one enters their domain without their knowledge. I’d find myself in chunks of meat on the floor, if I attempted such a thing. Which, again, speaks of its level of safety for the stones. In fact, the first septomir resided for a millennia amongst the Elvynira, until it was stolen by the former king.”

“Then, just how do you intend to stay concealed on this trek to Calyxar, seeing as it’s my head the king would demand for lying to his face?” Zevander fought to tamp down the ire burning through him at the mere prospect that Dolion would risk such a thing.

“I’ve become privy to a very effective cloaking spell. It would require a decent amount of vivicantem. If you can procure that, I can assure safe travel.”

With both the Magelord and Captain Zivant a little too focused on him, it made sense to get rid of the stones. Zevander reached into his pocket for the remaining vivicantem the king had given him earlier and passed it to the mage, who examined its contents.

“Should get us to Wyntertide,” Dolion said, stuffing the vial into a pocket of his robe.

“You intend to journey by foot.”

“Well, by steed, if you’d be so kind. I’ll board a ship in Wyntertide.”

“And what of breaking this curse?”

“Calyxar is home to the most brilliant minds in our world. I will consult with them and return.”

Zevander sneered before taking another sip of liquor. “I thought you were one of the most brilliant.”

“Certainly not. In fact, I’m beginning to question my visions, as of late.” He nodded toward Zevander’s drink. “Might I trouble you for some of that?”

The Letalisz opened a small cabinet beside him, retrieving a glass that he filled with the fiery, orange liquor. “I want a guarantee that you’ll return.”

Dolion sipped the liquor, his brows raised. “It’s quite potent, isn’t it?” When Zevander didn’t bother to answer, still waiting for a response to his demand, the old mage lifted the sleeve of his robe to reveal three gold bands wrapped tightly around his bicep. Family relics that served as a source of protection for the Elvynira. In Dolion’s world, there was nothing more valuable. “I’ve worn these bands since I was a boy. My own father placed them upon my arm.” He unwound the bands from his bicep and handed them to Zevander. “Please take care of them. They are all I have left of my bloodline.”

“You are the last?”

“I am. All my power dies with me.”

It suddenly made sense why he was so against killing the girl. “And if you encounter trouble on the way?”

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