Stormcaster (Shattered Realms #3)(30)

12


BLOOD MAGIC


Evan had no desire to return to the cottage and wallow in his many losses, but he knew he might find clues there that would tell him where the general might have taken Destin. They’d had one conversation about Destin’s life in the wetlands, and that had mostly focused on General Karn. Evan had sailed the waters along the wetland coast, but he’d never gone ashore, and he knew no one who lived there. He spoke Common, and Ardenine, now, passably. He had a ship, but no crew.

Still, a general shouldn’t be hard to find, once he made that crossing.

Captain Strangward always said that luck visits a man when he’s prepared a place for it. If Evan was going looking for Destin, he’d need maps and charts and books. He needed to practice magic so he’d have a chance going up against the Ardenines if it came to that.

The cottage stood rooted in its spot next to the river, but it already seemed to be fading into memory, like a place in a child’s storybook, or a dream he’d had once.

Inside, he circled around the spot where Frances had fallen, where her blood had dried on the tiles. He searched the place—it didn’t take long. His pendant lay on the floor in the corner. He slipped it into his pocket, meaning to repair the chain later. In the chest beside Frances’s bed, he found a locket with a picture of Destin on one side and that of a small family grouping on the other—her parents, brothers, and sisters, maybe. The general wasn’t there. In the strongbox under the floor, she’d stowed a small pouch of money—proceeds from sales at the market, no doubt—and a heavy gold ring with a signet in the shape of a bear.

Evan took those things as reminders and talismans, hoping to return them to Destin one day. He also took a map of the Seven Realms he found in a box of papers. Finding the loose stone at the rear of the fireplace, he withdrew the valuables he’d hidden there before Destin Karn arrived in Tarvos.

He was about to continue searching in the sleeping loft when he heard a whimper behind him. He whipped around and saw that Breaker had his eyes open and was looking at him plaintively. The dagger the general had used lay in a pool of blood next to him.

It seemed impossible that the dog could still be alive, with the wound he’d suffered. If he was, he wouldn’t be for long. Evan knelt next to him, meaning to put him out of his misery. He picked up the general’s dagger and reached for the dog’s chin, to tilt his head back. Breaker promptly bit him on the forearm, spattering blood everywhere.

“Blood and bones!” Evan swore, sitting back on his heels, pressing his arm to his side, trying to stanch the bleeding. “I’m trying to help, you ungrateful demon of a dog.”

Evan tried to remember how to treat a dog bite. Let it bleed to clean it out? It was doing that all right, soaking his white linen shirt in blood.

Evan let Breaker lie and went into the sleeping room to find Frances’s medical supplies. He sat on the bed and dug through the bag, pulling out the torn cloth she used for bandages. He used the general’s dagger to cut it into strips. The hilt and crosspiece were fancywork, which seemed odd for Karn to be carrying.

Something nudged Evan’s leg, and he practically died of fright. He looked down, and it was Breaker, standing beside the bed, head cocked, staring at him as if waiting for orders. Evan stared back, his heart accelerating into a gallop. There was no way that dog with that wound could be up and walking around.

Evan reached out his hand tentatively, then drew it back. “If you bite me again, I swear I’ll boil you in oil,” he said. This time, when he examined the dog’s wound, it was nearly closed.

As Evan probed with his fingers, Breaker reached up and licked the blood from his arm. Then he leapt onto the bed and settled in next to Evan like he was his best friend in the world. He kept twisting around, trying to get at Evan’s arm.

To tell the truth, Breaker looked better than he had in a long time. It was like he had a glow about him. A familiar glow.

A shudder ran through Evan. Now he knew what it reminded him of—the way the crew on the empress’s ship had glowed. Only Celestine’s crew looked almost . . . purplish, and Breaker had a reddish glow.

A thought kept surfacing in his mind, despite his efforts to keep it buried. Brody had said that the empress was a blood mage, that she forced people to drink her blood and they became her slaves. What did that mean? It was like Breaker had come back to life after he bit Evan on the arm. Was it possible that the dog had swallowed some blood? Was it possible that there was something about Evan’s blood that . . . had a healing quality? Or even . . . raised the dead? Or the nearly dead?

No. That was revolting. That was just . . . wrong.

Maybe it only works on the dying or newly dead, he thought. Maybe it only works on dogs. Maybe you’ve lost your mind.

Maybe this whole thing is a nightmare, Evan thought, with a flicker of hope. Maybe I’ll wake up and have my life back. It didn’t help that he was getting a little woozy from loss of blood. He wanted nothing more than to lie back down on the bed and sleep.

No. He needed to leave this place, and soon. He didn’t want to be found here, in this blood-spattered place, with a glowing dead dog.

It took just a few minutes more to finish wrapping his arm and pack up the rest of his belongings. Breaker watched him, following him from room to room, looking alert and well and years younger. In a way, it was horrible, but in another way, it was reassuring. At least he’d managed to save somebody. When he finally walked out the door, Breaker went with him.