Spirits of Light and Shadow (The Gods of Talmor) by India Drummond Read Free Book Online Page B

concern.
    “Graiphen, my friend,” Tarsten said. “You look better than I’ve seen you in weeks.”
    The older man frowned. “My head aches.” An odd confession from a man who never complained.
    “Don’t worry,” Tarsten said. “We’re going to take care of this.” He glanced at Korbin. “Come, son. We need to talk.”
    Korbin glanced at Graiphen, who responded with a curt nod. “Go. I need to rest.”
    “Very well.” Korbin watched his father for a moment, mystified at the quickly changing moods. The dread that had threatened him earlier settled in the pit of his stomach as he followed Tarsten out of the chamber.
     

Chapter 4
    Korbin had reported to Tarsten and Eliam, who assured him Graiphen’s state was, in fact, much improved. Afterward, Korbin conducted a thorough search of the house. He found five small metal sharps jutting from beside mirrors or on the underside of a table, always in places only Graiphen would be likely to touch. On one bit of iron, Korbin noticed a smear of blood and shuddered.
    Following Octavia’s instructions, he wrapped the objects in a clean cloth and placed them in the black bag she’d given him. He’d been reluctant to leave once he finished. Strange, considering that he’d thought never to set foot in this house again. But now he noticed the softly padding servants, most of whom expressed relief at his return. Was one of them feigning the mood? Surely no one outside the household could have placed these items, but who among them would knowingly participate in dark Kilovian witchcraft?
    He wasn’t a big believer in the power of the eight Spirits of Light and Shadow. Oh, likely they’d once existed. He’d learned enough of the histories to believe that at some point, possibly, they had been real. But the gods were dead, if they’d ever actually lived.
    By comparison, he’d always thought the Kilovian religion seemed backward, simplistic. He had many Kilovian friends, though, and they seemed to feel the same way about the Talmoran Spirits. The Kilovians didn’t even have a god. Just this concept of the One that he didn’t fully understand.
    Poison, however, explained everything, and he felt more comfortable with a logical, concrete explanation. He wondered if Octavia knew anything about poisons. Would she be so blinded by her beliefs that she wouldn’t consider a mundane line of enquiry? Not that Korbin was committed to making enquiries, despite his father’s plea.
    When he left Graiphen’s house that afternoon, he’d wandered the city, pondering the request. For a fleeting moment, he’d even wondered if Graiphen had perhaps poisoned himself. The suspicion vanished quickly. The great and powerful Graiphen Ulbrich would never take such a risk, and what reason would he have? Still, he was devious and manipulative enough to undertake such a ploy if doing so would serve some purpose. But no, Korbin couldn’t think of a good reason for his father to have taken the risk. None of this made sense.
    By early evening, he headed home and ate a solitary meal in his flat. He rarely dined there, but he wasn’t in the frame of mind to enjoy the company of others. He kept hearing his father’s voice: I need your help. Graiphen was a schemer, a calculating, controlling man who never cared about anyone else. Why should Korbin run to his aid? Was there even anything that could be done?
    Graiphen needed a healer, and if no medicine or treatment worked, he should retire in quiet dignity. Korbin could, at least, help with that. But an investigation? Into what? A few sharp objects and a couple of bloody dolls? He would have laughed at the ridiculousness of the tale if he hadn’t seen Graiphen’s confused condition for himself.
    Suddenly, Korbin didn’t want to be alone any longer. He grabbed a cloak and draped it over his shoulders on the way out. He headed toward a nearby pub, but the raucous laughter filtering into the streets kept him at bay, so he walked on.
    None of his