Born Of Fire And Darkness (Book 2) Read Free

all.”
    “They never listen,” the girl remarked quietly, looking distressed. Those Talmorans who came were ones who cared about what was fashionable ; in other words, the wealthy or those who wished to impress. If Liara wanted to be a conduit, she needed to stop being impressed by and afraid of money and position.
    Octavia stood. “I’ll go out the side door.” She brushed her hand over her long, dark hair, smoothing it down. “Four people. Four pages. First thing in the morning.”
    She left the girl behind and exited the hall. Liara wasn’t particularly good at following instructions to the letter, nor was she a fast learner, but she was all Octavia had. It would be years before she could be called a conduit.
    Octavia realized she couldn’t keep trying to do everything on her own. She had to ask for help. Sen Betram in Durjin would be the easiest place to start, but she might also write to the Sennestelle back in Kilovia. With a new kind of tolerance emerging in the empire, perhaps it would be even more attractive to send young students to Vol.
    On the other hand, many of their number had been brutally murdered. She’d heard rumors that although the servants of Braetin had gone quiet, they were gathering strength again. How could she convince anyone of this new “tolerance”? How long before consulting a conduit was no longer fashionable and the Red Manus’ influence grew once more? Noblemen were fickle, and what was popular one day might be shunned the next.
    After the wars and the persecution of conduits, their official structures were not as strong as they once were, but those who practiced did their best to maintain the old ways. The knowledge of the One must not be allowed to die out. Although the temple of Braetin had been publicly silent since the incidents in the recent winter, people still sought the temple anyway.
    A few, Octavia knew to her dismay, were Kilovians. They didn’t care if seeing a conduit was fashionable with Talmoran nobles and they weren’t impressed with the favor she’d found with the emperor. They saw the power and threat the temple represented. Without the support of the community and the willingness of new young people to be trained, over time, the Sennestelle might disappear completely. Without conduits, Octavia feared their traditions and practices might disappear. She should mention this when and if she decided it was time to petition for help.
    As she made her way to the small flat she occupied above a weaver’s shop, Octavia felt a twinge of guilt. Perhaps she could have stayed and talked Liara through what she expected of her.
    In truth, Octavia was tired to her bones. She hadn’t slept well in months, and none of the usual herbal remedies helped. Her dreams were filled with shadows and pain. Seba was gone, imprisoned without access to many of the materials a conduit would need to do harm. Still, he was ruthless and crafty, and it had nearly cost her life to defeat him last time. She couldn’t shake the lurking memories of him or of the shadow goddess she’d encountered through Graiphen. Braetin’s voice still haunted her mind.
    Her most persistent nightmare involved twisted images of her sister Trinity, who had died many years before. Thoughts of her sister had once consoled her, but no longer. Octavia pressed her eyes closed and shook her head hard. She closed her front door behind her, willing the terrible images away.
    For long moments, she stood in the darkness in the narrow close, her back pressed against the door. The entryway was small and she felt it closing in on her. The air was warm and smelled of sweat. Hers, perhaps. Her fingers trembled.
    “I’m so tired,” she whispered. How long could she continue to tend to the needs of every person in the city alone? During the day, she worked herself to the quick. At night, she was chased by Seba, by the Red Manus, and worst of all, by a horrific and distorted version of a sister she’d loved. That her mind