Page 96 of Eldritch
Torryn groaned and crossed his arms. “In layman’s terms, old man.”
“The gods cannot take physical form. So, they choose a vessel. Or, as the case may be with Cadavros, the vessel chooses them.”
Kazhimyr huffed, bracing his hands on his hips. “If Zevander gains possession of this glyph, he could destroy Cadavros’s blood magic, right? Doesn’t have to kill him and unleash a plague, he can just wipe out his bloodline?”
Dolion flipped through the book in his hands, running his finger down the page, until he stopped. “No.” He turned the book to face Kazhimyr, pointing at a name on the page.
Alastor Calzareth - spindling.
“Who is this?”
“The name given to Cadavros at birth. Took a bit of digging on my part. The mage certainly didn’t make it easy to track down.”
“A spindling?” Kazhimyr scoffed. “Balls of Castero, how did he manage to become Magelord?”
“That is a question I’m afraid I cannot answer.”
Kazhimyr trailed his gaze to the next line reserved for siblings, to findMelisara Calzareth - unknown. He knew that name. As rare as it was, he wondered if it might be the disfigured woman who’d hired him to track down the mortucrux all those years ago. “That’s his sister?”
“So it seems. Whether she’s alive, or not, is another question.”
Kazhimyr shifted his attention to the enormous drawing on the wall, wondering how anyone could possibly master all those details. It seemed the mind could never possibly capture its intricacies. “A glyph that powerful would require quite a bit of vivicantem, it seems.”
“It would.” Dolion shuffled over to his calculations, nothing more than erratic scribbles that Kazhimyr couldn’t begin to decipher. “It’s a crude calculation, but the energy required to eliminate a ward the size of the Umbravale is beyond what our bodies are capable of producing. Zevander has the advantage of the flame, but even when I factor in temperature and force, and all the coefficients, the result is the same. The amount of vivicantem he would need to ingest is extraordinary. It would require a delicate balance to the energy he expends. Too much, and he would suffer toxicity.”
“And become a Carnifican?”
“Or worse. Too little, and the power of that flame would consume him entirely.”
“Death?”
“Annihilation. I imagine, the longer he stays in Mortasia, the more his vivicantem is depleting.” Dolion sighed and snapped the book closed, setting it on the table beside him. “Perhaps he might return on his own, but he won’t leave without Maevyth. I’ve not said anything to Rykaia, or Allura, yet, but I’m setting off for the mortal lands in the morning. I feel the need to atone for my grievous lack in judgment.”
“I’m going with you.” Rykaia stepped into the room, the dark circles beneath her eyes not quite as pronounced as Dolion’s.
“Respectfully, no. I promised your brother I’d keep you safe. If he happens to acquire that glyph, I suspect I’ll be his first victim, should he find out I placed you in peril.”
“I don’t care. He’s my brother.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” Kazhimyr battled back. “Neither is Dolion. You’re both going to Calyxar, as planned. Ravezio and I will go after Zevander. He’s the reason we’re here and not rotting in the Solassion mines.”
A look of conflict crept over Dolion’s face. “The state of Mortasia is unknown. The journey could be incredibly dangerous.”
Kazhimyr sighed. “That’s essentially every day of my life.”
“I’m not weak.” Rykaia scowled, her voice carrying a steel edge of defiance. “I can help.”
Torryn shrugged. “I’m not weak, either, but you couldn’t pay me enough coin to set foot in the mortal lands.”
Dolion gave a sharp nod. “Very well. It’s settled, then. The two of you will travel to Mortasia. Torryn and I will accompany Rykaia and Allura to Calyxar. My hope is that he’s found Maevyth. She’s a critical piece in all of this.”
“How so?”
He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then said, “I believe she’s the only one who can keep him from slipping into madness.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
MAEVYTH
