The Garden of Stones by Mark T. Barnes Read Free Book Online Page A

years. When I am elected Asrahn, it will be the beginning of greater things for us.”
    “But you still need to overcome the Federationist faction that controls the Upper House of the Teshri,” Wolfram said. “And the sayfs who govern the Hundred Families need encouragement to support your Imperialist agendas.”
    “Far-ad-din’s no longer a threat, so that’s one Federationist taken care of.” Belam sat up straight in his hauberk of ruby-crystal scales. His eyes were darkened with kohl, like those of any fashionable Avān man. “After Amber Lake, the Great House of Erebus’s position is stronger than ever. Surely that will help tip the balance?”
    Corajidin nodded. “Thanks in great part to you, Belamandris, and you, Mariam. One child a war hero, while the other saved the Asrahn’s life.” He shook his head in mock disappointment at this last. “It would have been convenient for Vashne to fall in battle, a beloved and well-remembered monarch. Do not let your time with the Feyassin cloud yourjudgment, Mariam. You are my agent in Vashne’s inner circle, nothing more.”
    “Good work, Mari,” Belam teased. She pounded him in the chest, so hard he grunted, and gently pushed her brother to one side of the couch he dominated. Belam grumbled good-naturedly, and he finally moved when Mari shoved him with her hip.
    “I take it you intend on continuing with your plan?” Mari probed. She heard the disapproval in her voice and cursed herself for being so transparent. “With your poor health it may not be the best time.”
    “We’ve committed a lot of money and effort to our project in the Rōmarq.” Corajidin took his seat slowly, limbs trembling. “As well as on influencing the next vote at the Assembly of Peers.”
    “Father.” Mari leaned forward to rest a hand on her father’s knee. “You’re a sick man. You need to rest.”
    Wolfram listed forward on creaking legs, his staff thumping against the rug. “Your father’s soul is poisoning him, and we’ve only the vaguest suspicion as to why. We’ve found no cure in any of the arcane tracts we have access to. They don’t deal with the Awakening of a rahn—”
    “Are you sure it’s related to his Awakening?” Mari scowled. “‘The rahn is one with the soul of the land, as the soul of the land is one with the rahn.’ My father’s Awakening is supposed to give him power, as well as access to the memories of his Ancestors, not kill him!”
    “It’s frustrating, I know,” Wolfram murmured. “We’re working as hard as we can to find a cure. For decades your father has wielded the power of his Awakening with no ill effect. We aren’t sure of the cause of his illness.”
    “There is precedent,” Brede offered. Her heavy Angothic accent was littered with long vowels and trilled
r
’s. “Your father is not the first to have been poisoned by his powers.”
    “So we go back to the source,” Wolfram continued, his speech without accent at all. “We try to find Sedefke’s works, given he was the one who formulated the entire process and structure of Awakening. He lived in the Rōmarq before its cities were flooded, then in various cities in Shrīan and Pashrea during the millennia afterward. If we can find his older works, such as
The Awakened Soul, Unity of Thought and Spirit
, or
Creative Intent
, we may find the answers we need.”
    “And all the arcane weapons supposedly abandoned in the wetlands don’t factor into your decisions at all?” Mari regretted her words as soon as they left her mouth. Her father’s eyes narrowed with displeasure, and he wrung his hands in obvious pain. Started to mutter under his breath, though she could not catch the words. Mari could feel the Angothic Witch’s gaze on her. She resisted the urge to turn away.
    “It is my destiny to rule Shrīan,” Corajidin declared, eyes bright as much with fever as passion. “Wolfram’s oracles promised me I would deliver the Great House of Erebus to power. That I would