Page 183 of Vasmora

“Sounds like a plan.” Lothare glanced around. “Now, how do we get to Eidolon?”

Zevander snorted. “Same way we arrived.”

Lothare frowned. “How did I get here?”

“Oh, are you in for a treat.” Corwin chuckled, hobbling off toward Achlys.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

DOLION

Dolion sat in the library, books scattered over the table he tapped his finger against, as he stared out the window. With the amulet in Cadavros’s possession, and both firstborn royals having perished, their options were thinning.

He turned his attention back to the notes he’d been studying in Cadavros’s journal, which he’d stolen from Akmyrios’s chambers back at the castle. Perhaps the most important of all, seeing as it detailed how to bind Pestilios to the amulet. Useless, though, without the blood of a firstborn prince.

Worse yet, according to the text, the blood of any other would crack the amulet, rendering it powerless to trap the pestilent god.

Royal blood was essential.

Carefully lifting the blade from its satin-lined depression in the book, he held it by the hilt to avoid accidentally cutting himself and tainting the blade. Tiny symbols carved into the steel represented ancient glyphs that even Dolion, with his extensive knowledge of history and the gods, did not recognize. Strange that Akmyrios had never bothered to crack open the book that held the knife. He’d have surely kept it close if he’d known its importance.

Footfalls drew his attention toward the door, where Rykaia approached with a package wrapped in brown paper.

She held it up with both hands. “I almost forgot. This arrived for you the other day. Aunt Morwenna had a courier deliver it before the whole world went to shit.”

Dolion accepted the package and quickly tore away the brown wrapping, revealing the Blood Lineage Codex. The ancient and highly restricted book he’d had Torryn steal for him weeks before. Not wanting to lose it on his travels to Calyxar, he’d left it at Morwenna’s.

Dolion snorted as he placed the book onto the table beside the others. “Goodness, had the courier been searched, he’d have been arrested, or worse. This book reveals the bloodline of every Aethyrian.”

“Well, that sounds scandalous. Even royal blood?”

Dolion nodded, but froze at a sudden thought. He dragged the book closer and opened it to the section for Nyxteros. Head tipped back, he mentally calculated Dorjan’s age to coincide with the timeframe just before his birth.

“What are you so fluttered about?” Rykaia settled into a chair across from Dolion and swiped up the bottle of wine he’d been drinking. She tipped it back with a guzzle, then wiped her mouth on the back of her hand.

“I’m trying to recall Dorjan’s age.”

“He was two hundred, I believe. Slightly younger than Zevander.”

“Right.” Dolion jabbed a finger in the air as he turned the pages of the book. “So, I will look at the decade, or so, prior to that and work my way back.”

“For what exactly?”

Flipping through more pages, he frantically searched for the correct time and place. “I’m trying to determine if the king happened to have any bastards.” As he stared down at the pages and pages of names, he groaned. “I fear this may take some time.”

“So, this book lists blood lineage?” Chin propped on her palm, Rykaia stared at him, toying with the feathers of his quill pen.

“It’s quite complete. Going back generations upon generations. Very useful in tracing lesser glyphs.”

“Lesser glyphs?”

Line after line, he read through each name of every page, making his way through the first decade. “Unusual glyphs that seem to appear out of nowhere. Sometimes, a mancer will possess a magic that didn’t come from either parent. It’s oftentimes determined to be ancestral.”

“That’s fascinating.” She ran the feather across her cheek. “So, I could inherit my great-great-great-grandmother’s magic?”

“Absolutely.”

“Oh! I’m curious.” Setting the pen down, she leaned forward. “What’s Branimir’s? Or Zevander’s, for that matter?”