Even a walk through the gardens did little to soothe her nerves, although having to fight off a strangling creeper vine that attempted to accost her accounted for no small part of that. From the bodies scattered about, it had been eking out a successful existence on local wildlife, decaying remains forming a putrescent compost around the roots. More vines shivered and twitched, as Janaxia focused, calling up an icy storm of withering darkness. The plants were all frozen and shredded, succumbing to the power she commanded.

The wrought iron pillars supporting the roof protested, something succumbing to age and assault, part of the roof cracking and falling. A venous tendril flopped around her feet, before she blasted it with a bolt, severing it from the trunk. As the metal continued to whine under the stress of her attack, she moved outside, carefully stepping around the puddles in the boggy ground, and the more poisonous- or thorned-looking specimens. Such a shame there was no-one to tend to them, some of them could be quite bright and appealing, at least from a distance to ensure one couldn’t inhale the fumes they produced or come within reach of the grasping fronds and vines.

She had to step heavily, trying to find the path concealed beneath heavy weeds and undergrowth, the gravel barely distinct from the swampy ground surrounding it. Belazaan! Canal-city of the Crystal Princes, famed for the wealth and extravagance, all the trade of the world oceans channelled through it’s many harbours. She had heard tales of it, of the delights to be savoured and experienced there, and had always wanted to go. So why did she feel so weary and listless? She had examined herself as best she could and there didn’t appear to have been any malfeasance performed upon her person or spirit, at least more than petty physical aggravations that had swiftly healed. But she didn’t dare ask anyone else to check, even Kivata. Her hair had dimmed itself, and her tattoo seemed more-than-usually quiescent, but that could simply be a reaction to her own tiredness.

Her memories of what had transpired in the research chambers were fuzzy – her orders, of course, were clear enough, and the memory of the sword lingered in her mind, a blade so dark it looked almost cut from reality, but otherwise, it was somewhat blurry. While Mother knew a number of charm spells, of course, they had never been something she had focused on overly much, calling them “tawdry”, preferring the intricacies of necromancy.

She picked up a branch (after first carefully checking that it wasn’t anything that could harm her) and flicked it through the air. The balance was terrible, of course, but with her magic reinforcing it, it was easy and rather satisfying to pivot and lash out at a tree, smashing through a sturdy branch. It fell to the ground with a dull splat, Janaxia stepping backwards to avoid the splash of dirty, tainted water.

She was deep in the back of the garden, the wall visible as a mass of dark green ivy ahead of her. There were buildings back here, but they were all unusable, existing mostly to support the plants that had overtaken most of the estate, filled and covered with greenery. Things rustled in the undergrowth – either local vermin, or seedlings of the creeper vine, hungry for prey.

Being here reminded her of all that the family should be, and all that it was not. Powerful, to be sure, but surrounded by faded and broken grandeur. There was said to be a Corlanthi somewhere back here, a sculpture of Tetherain the Everliving (whose title had turned out to be less-than-accurate), carved from the finest of marble. It was probably gorgeous to look upon, if it wasn’t drowning in weeds, the pristine white likely now scarred and puckered by plants growing upon it. Even the house was in an obvious state of disrepair, with many of the rooms both unused and unusable, windows blocked off, floorboards patched, or hidden beneath old, musty rugs.

A sound rippled through the air, a discordant chill heavy in the mugginess of the plantlife. Janaxia froze, trying to focus on it – was there someone else out here? It sounded like a spell being cast, as another wave of cold made the leaves shiver. Keeping a wary eye on the undergrowth for any attackers, Janaxia went to investigate, trying to step as quietly as possible, acutely aware of every sound she was making. The one time Semari might be useful!

There was, or had been, a small amphitheatre here, stone blocks placed in a failed attempt to hold the swamp at bay, now resembling an ancient ruin, the stone barely visible underneath thick layers of moss and vines, a toppled-over statue looking decidedly corpse-like, a pale face barely visible beneath the greenery.

Beneath her, stood atop the large stone slab that had once been the stage, surrounded by stagnant and dirty water, was Peresperan. A slash of darkness behind him quickly faded away, a marker of some transportation spell. What was he doing here? The place was scarcely a focus of arcane power, nor was it comfortable enough for an assignation, even if he were the type. Although not particularly ill-featured, and with dark, brooding features that could be popular with a certain audience, he was more concerned with power, forever jealous of his position as oldest, although never declared the heir. The details of his marriage had been worked out when Janaxia had been far too young to follow such things, but he had issue, possibly even several by now, his wife seemingly content with such a position (or compelled into acceptance in some fashion).

He looked around, seeming almost… nervous? One of his shoulders was higher than the other, a remnant of the punishment for some youthful incident, beyond Janaxia’s recollection. A figure leapt from a tree, Janaxia shrinking backwards, hoping the foliage would conceal her, and not try to consume her. What was Semari doing here? She was scarcely the type for covert discussions! As they landed, slamming into the centre of the stage hard enough to knock a dent into the stone, Janaxia saw that it wasn’t Semari, at least unless she had grown a few inches, and changed into a utilitarian robe, albeit one less worn than Semari’s usual clothing.

They rose from their landing, and lowered their hood, a spill of black hair washing out, beneath a woman’s face. Their features flickered and shifted as Janaxia watched, skin warping and flowing in a fashion that made Janaxia feel rather queasy. It was like watching a thin film of liquid, shifting and flowing around, the only points of stability seeming to be black marks on her face, almost anchoring the flesh around them.

They looked at each other warily, neither speaking yet, whatever alliance they had clearly not entirely trusting – spell-energy flickered around Peresperan’s fingers, while her hand was rarely far from the knife sheathed on her hip.

Peresperan was the first to speak. ‘You came. Finally.’

‘I have other concerns. The Blade hungers and must be tended to. And binding your sister took effort.’ Her skin stopped crawling, a more normal visage presenting itself, a momentary flash of a tattoo appearing on her forehead, a red and black slash that appeared sunken deep into her skin, almost broiling with an inner energy. ‘And it still fights my control, even in its weakened state. Now, what is it?’ Her tone was sharp, showing a probably-deserved dislike or annoyance with Peresperan.

‘Has there any been any progress?’

She made a growling noise, her hand tensing so much that the tendons looked like they were about to snap on the back of her hand. ‘Yes. Your sister is now bound as well, although there was something… strange there. I suspect she may have been charmed by someone else or bound within some other enchantment. She certainly seems foolish enough for such a thing! I doubt she is an Iristari tool, or else we would be under attack already, but she succumbed easily enough to a needle. Although she seems genuinely terrified, I suspect she would be easy enough to control.’

Were they talking about Kivata? Or herself? She certainly wasn’t that terrified, just… sensibly cautious. But if Peresperan were meeting the outsider at a place like this, then whatever they were discussing must be secret.

‘She must have gotten herself bound in some enchantment. She should have been married off years ago, used to forge an alliance outside of our powerbase – she is utterly powerless and ignorant of even the most rudimentary magical theories.’

They must be talking about Kivata, then. After all, had she not proven her worth by surmounting not one, but two trials? She felt a vine, thorned and fibrous, twitch against her leg, sliding and moving, and tried to kick it off without making any noise. It twisted around her ankle, thorns scraping her flesh painfully, as she tried to eavesdrop while fighting it off.

‘Poratia thinks only of arcane power, forever ignorant of anything else! And that is why we are so weak. Just a single trading port would give us vastly more income than this – even the Khem syndicate has more wealth and power than we have, and they’re nothing but some upstart Sethans. Time for a change of power, I think.’

Janaxia covered her mouth so as not to gasp in shock. While Peresperan had been desirous of being formally declared the heir for years now, that he was planning on more overt action, it seemed, was something of a shock! Was he planning a coup? If he was having secret meetings, then that seemed a real danger. Then she hissed in pain, as the vine tightened around her ankle, thorns penetrating her flesh, some numbing agent being injected, her leg going cold. She thrust towards with her stick, managing to sever the vine, but a nearby rustling indicated the thing probably wasn’t alone.

‘We should have had the Blade in our possession long years ago, to delve into its secrets. And the Book was once ours as well, so the legends say. Two of the three artefacts wielded by the Black Triad, a power to rival the very gods! But with your aid, we now have the Blade. And those shards…’

‘Yes, useful little things, aren’t they? Cormontara was a mistake, although an educational one. Better to force the things into people, that way their spirits can be shaped.’ The woman cackled, making her face twitch slightly, her features starting to shift again before solidifying. ‘A few dukes and kings, viscounts and generals, and you may find that you have a lot of allies. In the battles to come, more than enough, I would think. But this said is not for free. I’m sure you remember the price I requested though? It would be most unfortunate were you to try and cheat me.’ Her voice was almost a growl now, face warping into something primal and inhuman before changing back.

Even Peresperan looked slightly taken aback by her expression, as a magical barrier of protection manifested itself around him, although he tried to look calm. ‘Do not worry, you will get the sacrifice you demanded. She is useless to me, after all.’

‘Excellent. I shall savour her screams! She will live long, although she will wish otherwise. A shame that I cannot have the prey I wish for, but this will suffice. That little needle will bind her spirit. But you dare not countermand your sweet mama’s orders.’

They must be talking about Kivata again. Well, she was largely disposable, and lived purely by Janaxia’s own whim – by rights, Janaxia could have killed her during the trial. The woman’s words made him bristle, unhappy at being reminded that he wasn’t fully in charge. ‘Soon enough, that will change. Then we will both have what we want – a new empire, forged from chains of ancient magic, and you will have your new plaything. But there is no sign of the Book, and the trail of the Bell has grown cold. It must have been in Redcastle, but since then… Nothing. It’s as though it’s hidden! But it has such power, even in the hands of someone untutored in the arcane arts. Even Janaxia could call up a demon with it, despite her utter incompetence at all forms of magic. A magus with actual ability could call up a legion, enough to conquer the world. It was only with the aid of the heavens themselves that they were defeated, and the might of the Elven empire was extinguished. Without the children of heaven, then no-one could defeat such a force!’

‘And you would rule, unchallenged.’

‘Indeed. But first, I must find the Bell. And it has simply vanished! The Book may have been destroyed, but the Bell still exists. Somewhere! Probably in the hands of some fool of an adventurer, who has no idea of the thing’s true power. But the Blade should be sufficient by itself. Sufficient for my needs. Now, you will have to forestall your plans some short time, and it is possible that something will be discovered in Belazaan. Their vaults date from the time of the Empire, but they guard them closely. Even Kinnevar was unable to get in, and gods know he tried. Even with an army, once, but he was defeated and driven off.’

‘Just don’t forget our arrangement. And don’t call on me without good need!’ That had the sound almost of a command, Peresperan bridling but nodding. ‘Our plans proceed apace, but this form of meeting raises suspicions. And your mother seethes with paranoia, she would collar me if she could. Like that thing your sister wears, but bound about with curses and hex-work. I’ve been bound before, never again!’

Janaxia’s hands rose to her throat, feeling the snugly-fitting gold choker. It wasn’t a collar! And it certainly didn’t represent any form of binding, she simply liked the weight and feel of it. Although her neck did feel cold when it was bare, and it was nicer when Stathis put it on rather than having to do it herself, but it was certainly a distinctive and appealing item.

‘Your sister may yet reveal something at Belazaan, and the Dragon’s Eye is powerful by itself. And you will investigate the Bell. Now, go to your tasks, before your mother suspects that you are less than fully bound. She is still powerful – I doubt even you and Ophexia could defeat her without treachery. But should you acquire the Bell, then your victory would be assured. Now go, before she gets suspicious. And don’t call me again without good cause!’

A dull, leaden sound rang out, Peresperan’s eye glowing with dark energy for a moment, making him wince and cover his eye with his hand. ‘I am summoned. We must both tend to our tasks.’ He slashed a hand through the air, creating a portal in the air and stepping through. As soon as he was gone, the woman let out a sigh, relaxing slightly, and then her face shifted, revealing a broken and scarred visage, deep burns and painful-looking marks interspersed with black metal studs and piercings.

Janaxia tried to extricate herself from the vine, still wrapped around, and stuck into, her ankle, keeping a cautious eye and ear out for more questing tendrils, the woods around her rustling in a rather unsettling fashion. The woman pulled something out from her pocket and snapped it, a red light flaring into being. A few moments later, another portal appeared in the air, Ophexia stepping through. She was dressed in her ritual robes, clearly having been interrupted in the middle of something, her hands wet with gore.

The woman’s face changed back to its ‘normal’ mask, the scars and studs vanishing as flesh flowed over them. ‘How go your tasks?’

Ophexia flicked her fingers, blood splashing out, a dark shadow shifting beneath the water, something stirring to life. ‘Trakatha is as obedient as expected. I can command her creations if needed, and there are a few hidden tricks amongst her craftings. Such a clever girl, and so obedient. A shame the youngest two don’t take after her, although Shamuth is easy enough to control. As long as his belly is full, he doesn’t care who orders him about. Although I don’t trust that wife of his – she has old, cold blood in her, something of the deep, dark places beneath the sea. And I am concerned about Janaxia – she managed to endure two trials! I assumed she would be dead or broken, but she has managed to endure, and even surpassed Kivata. Not that Kivata ever showed much promise, but Janaxia shows unusual abilities.’

Janaxia smiled – it was nice when someone appreciated her talents, even if it was in such a backhanded fashion!

‘Do not worry yourself about her.’ The woman raised her hand, fingers extending and shifting into savage claws. She flicked her hand through the air, striking against a pillar and leaving deep scores in the stone. ‘Peresperan is safely bound, what of your research?’

‘Mother requires me almost constantly, making it virtually impossible to find any time! The Bell was found at Redcastle, but after that, I cannot tell. It must be shrouded from divinations, as there is no trace of it, but it cannot have been destroyed. Some other force is occluding it, I’m sure. But soon, I shall find it, and then all our plans shall be in place. Mother and Peresperan shall both bow to me or be destroyed.’

So both Peresperan and Ophexia were planning on betraying Mother? Well, it was scarcely a surprise, although Mother had no doubt taken her own precautions. If there were to be any bloodletting, then it would probably be best to be safely absent, and say how the ground lay afterwards, rather than be forced to take sides. They all seemed remarkably conversant about the Black Triad – it was a shame that Parthenelle wasn’t around to question, although she was stiff-lipped about such things. Were the items truly that powerful?

‘When can you release me? The old woman is getting suspicious!’ Her own eye flared, a binding rune flaring into existence. ‘Having her able to kill me at any time…’ She shivered. ‘You must be able to finish matters soon?’

‘When the Bell is in our possession. Or the Book, if you can find any clues as to where that is. But your mother holds the Blade – she is skilled and cunning and has bound the thing about with magics I dare not meddle with. While I can use the shards to ensnare others, other, greater powers are sealed away. I would urge you to greater efforts in your research, unless you wish to remain bound yourself.’

Ophexia flicked her hand in anger, more blood splashing into the waters, the seething of the waters intensifying in a worrying fashion. ‘I would if I could! But the Bell was lost for centuries! And then it showed up, and Janaxia was too much of a fool to realise. If she had but acquired the Bell then, this would already be over. Foolish wretch. But she shall be put to good use soon enough. But what of your plans?’

‘They progress as expected. Soon, you be able to overthrow your mother.’

‘Excellent. Soon, the old blood shall make way for the new, and I shall be acclaimed the head. And anyone that objects will be eliminated or made to serve.’

Another tendril brushed against Janaxia’s foot, before thrusting itself forward and wrapping around her ankle, more numbing venom getting injected, as it started to rub and scrape her skin. She didn’t dare move, trying to force herself to endure the pain, hoping they would be done talking soon and she could move away from the vexatious foliage. Neither Peresperan nor Ophexia were who she would wish to serve (truth be told, neither was Mother), and it seemed this stranger was playing both of them against each other? If they destroyed each other, then that would leave an opening… Although there was the danger that their mutual destruction would weaken the family, especially if they killed Mother as well. But there was little she could do about it.

The pair mercifully didn’t converse much longer before Ophexia finished and transported herself away again. The leaves rustled, as another tendril dangled from above, wrapping around Janxia’s arm and starting to tighten and scrape, trying to wear through her clothing. Her leg was completely numb now, threatening to give way and collapse her to the ground. The woman looked around suspiciously, her claws lengthening, even her face seeming to turn feral as Janaxia tried to force herself to be still.

There was a long moment of silence, and then she tensed her legs, leaping into the woods. Something silver leapt up from the water, exploding in a shower of gore and guts as she slashed it to pieces with a counterstrike, leaping into the woods. It was a challenge forcing herself to say still for any longer, the numbness reaching up her waist towards her chest, before she judged it safe to move. She cut away at the tendrils, slicing through them now she could move, before staggering away, one leg dead and numb. It would be safest to be gone from here! And Kivata as well – it sounded as though the woman bore her some particular grudge, and she would be more useful as an extra body to be ordered around than left here! Semari and Vrintar might take some convincing, but it probably wouldn’t be too hard.