Ruein: Fires of Haraden: Action/Adventure Necromancy Series (Books of Ruein Book 2) by G.O. Turner (best ereader for graphic novels txt) 📗

Gone was the pirouette of the fireflies. In its place, ebon mists drifted along the eves and floors. Ruein lifted her eyes, taking in the children. They still slumbered under the comforters. Yet, the bed did not sway with the tree it hung from, but rather with the woman who was sitting alongside Nayr.

Polished fingernails combed through the boy’s hair. Kind, hollow eyes looked over him.

She turned to Ruein, held a finger to her lips. “Shhh…”

A drop streamed from her eye. Not a tear. Ruein’s graying sight did not require color to discern the viscous nature of blood. The woman was not only the same one from the Khorana funeral…

…she recognized her now.

Ruein’s will tore at her—a mounting wave of determination to act! She’d charge to Nayr’s defense. Slay the unslayable.

Nothing.

She simply stood there, unable to move, her lifeless hand resting upon the doorknob. This Wee will wasn’t going to be overcome.

She could do whatever she wanted. It was part and parcel of being a goddess of death and magic.

6

The morning brought a change of breeze as warm ocean currents pushed back the cool flow from the mountains. The emptied tent was now far roomier, with the packed earth blanketed by a sizable oval rug.

Shegar Negrath sat across from Liv waiting for her to talk. She’d hoped hot tea and wafers would suffice in trade. Shegar found the offer courteous enough, yet he seemed to prefer answers first. Baylor’s balls. Of course, he does.

Liv had a flurry of her own questions, but she resigned herself to recount.

Conflagrated golden eyes held Lightbringer Liv as she tread over her team’s tribulations: the chest recovery, the necrostone, Savaal’s want of Ruein as a dead bride, all the other sister-brides, and their ultimate sacrifice.

She withheld nothing.

Unwinding her journey, relief spiraled over the void within her chest. Their trials were something she’d carried with her ever since. She felt a bit lighter now to share with someone…a powerful someone…who had not felt the pain directly.

Kaea refreshed their cups. Steam drifted before those golden eyes as Shegar quietly weighed Liv’s account.

Her father had been up until well after dark with his dragon guest. Liv had given them their time, tending to Caleb and his small needs. Yet, the old man retired early, opting for a cot inside the tent. He wished to be close should his master have need. He still resided on that bed, interjecting snores between her encounters.

“Yes. I can see your quandary,” said Shegar Negrath at last.

“Do you? Do you see my quandary?” She seated herself before their guest. “Which one? I have loads.”

“For a youngling, you have been gracious. You’ve been patient.” Shegar sipped from his cup. “Perhaps it would be better if you simply ask.”

Finally.

Liv’s nostrils flared, sucking in air. “I get that Savaal had a long game. He’d spent who knows how many damned eras cultivating an unholy harem. All because he’d fucked himself into believing he knocked on becoming a god himself. What I want to know…how could he pass himself off as a holy-holy? The undead shouldn’t be able to do…do what he did!”

Shegar nodded. “Healing spells are anathema to the dead. Ergo, it should almost go without saying, they should not be able to cast such spells. Restorative magics are inherently divine. Yes. Yet, I put it to you that Savaal wasn’t always an undead. If he had once been a goodly cleric, then he would’ve known the ways to cast. Of course, once he had supplicated himself to darker sources, he would’ve been abandoned by proper deities.”

The dragon lapsed, staring into his tea. “I cannot speak for what deep evils may do. However, I do understand that some spells lost in a fall can be regained through atonement.”

Liv winced. “You can’t just go back and ask your god to forgive you after becoming such a vile thing.”

“Of course not. I wouldn’t expect that he could be absolved with his original deity, but there are dark gods he could atone to. Ones for which restoring some minor losses would not be beyond them.”

Kaea interjected, “His evil was so inherent. It was…he was undeniably evil. How is it that even an acolyte didn’t spot such?”

Shegar’s lips parted.

Liv responded first. “No.” Her head dipped in resignation. “I already know of spells that conceal evil.”

Kaea’s mouth went slack.

Ruein uses such magics, yes.

Being undead was inherent in its evilness, and concealing that alignment from prying eyes was one of Ruein’s first acts. One she performed daily.

Shegar sniffed at his cup. “These leaves, you must tell me where they are harvested. There’s a tingling nip to it.”

“It’s nothing special really, simple black tea. However, I grind in clippings of mint gathered here and there,” Kaea added with a wink.

Shegar returned to Liv. “I can see you’re troubled. Take heart in this simple truth. If those abominations were destroyed as utterly as you say, then there are eight fewer dire undeads in the world.”

“That is something we should all be grateful for.”

Liv and Kaea whipped around.

The tent flap pressed in as Ruein slipped inside. Her garb was as it was the day before: black drow armor, a cloak, and her illusion of health.

Arim and Nayr bracketed her closely on both sides.

Liv’s heart leapt. “What are you doing here? Why’re you back so soon?”

“Well, if Twigs and Ceer’d had their way, I’d have already been shipped off to Haraden,” Ruein said. “They popped by for a visit last night. Unfortunately, they weren’t the only ones.”

Nayr pulled away, jaunting toward Caleb’s sleeping cot. Arim caught his intent and chased after. “No, no, no, Nayr. Don’t wake him. That’s not nice.”

Both the Khoranas and Shegar rose to stand as the necromancer entered. Ruein locked eyes with Liv. “The mystery of Nayr’s candy-giver yesterday is now known to me. It is no surprise I couldn’t find her outside. She decides when she wishes to be seen.”

Oh shit. Don’t say—

“It was her, Liv.” Ruein’s hand slid beneath her