Unlocked (First of the Blade Book 3) Read online

  A whistle pierced the darkness.

  Imogen’s hand went to her sword, and she flowed in Petals on the Wind.

  Another branox had been spotted, but for once, she welcomed the attack. It would take her thoughts off what else she needed to do.

  Chapter Two

  The slow burn of magic pressed against Imogen’s skin, a slight tension that left her arms tingling beneath her jacket. Her eyes closed as she focused on the power she could feel around her, trying to determine its source and whether it came from the Koral gathered behind her. There were several of them nearby. As far as she could tell, they were demonstrating their power to others with them.

  Trees stretched on either side of her, and Imogen stood in a circle of them. She tried to push back the sense of energy she detected around her, though she was unsure whether she could fully ignore it. There was something about the power she felt here. The longer she remained standing in place, the more Imogen began to feel as if everything around her was changing.

  And it was.

  “I can feel you back there,” she said without turning.

  A soft chuckle came from behind her, and Imogen opened her eyes to spot Benji as he strode forward from among the trees. The Porapeth had his remaining hair cut short—or perhaps styled short, Imogen no longer knew. His silver eyes reflected the daylight streaming through the treetops, and he leaned his head back, wide nostrils inhaling the air. Imogen had no idea if he was using his magic or whether this was some other trick. With Benji, she often didn’t know.

  “You could feel me because I wanted you to feel me,” he said.

  Imogen turned to him, which involved separating from one of the sacred patterns and feeling the energy that shifted and changed. She was all too aware of how that sacred pattern drifted when she disrupted the type of power she was holding.

  “Maybe, but that doesn’t change the fact that I can feel you.”

  She swept her gaze behind her, deeper into the forest. They hadn’t seen any branox for a few days, though Imogen had caught sight of markings she suspected were theirs, which meant her army had not removed the threat completely. The Koral shamans continued placing protections, but there were limits to their efficacy, especially against creatures that fed on magic. The Leier soldiers trained, and so far Imogen had not begun to show them the sacred patterns, but increasingly she thought she would need to.

  “Have you been working with the Leier?” she asked.

  Benji’s nose wrinkled as he frowned. “They think they don’t need me.”

  She snorted. “Do they?”

  “Yes. They just don’t know it yet.”

  “Why do they need a Porapeth to teach them magic?” She strode toward him, sheathing her blade in a quick movement. “They have their own type of magic, don’t they?”

  “Magic that is inadequate,” he said. “I’m trying to help them understand the patterns. Now that they are away from those who can teach them the necessary techniques, somebody has to be responsible for helping them.”

  He said nothing about the damaged temple. Imogen wasn’t sure what they should—or could—say about it, anyway. It hadn’t crumbled completely while they had camped near it, but there was the ongoing threat that it might fall apart. She suspected Timo had something to do with it, but she had discussed it with Benji already, and he did not know.

  He tipped his head, breathing in deeply, and he sniffed the air again. “Much like I have been trying to teach you.”

  “I’m afraid your lessons have fallen on deaf ears.”

  “I would say that it fell on a dull mind as well.”

  His lessons had involved her learning more about the sacred patterns, trying to bring her a oneness with them that she hadn’t managed while training with Master Liu. She wanted to better understand them, if only so she could truly know the secrets that the sacred sword masters had kept from their people.

  “I’m not sure how we will get them back to their homeland so they can learn. But we will.”

  “And then what, Imogen Inaratha? What do you intend to do then?”

  He had asked her that before, and Imogen had no better answer now than she did before. When they had descended from the mountains—the Leier leading the Koral, their ancient enemies, to safety—she had thought that getting them clear would be the only thing she wanted to do. But now…

  Now she no longer knew if that was the only thing she needed. Was there something else she should be doing?

  “I intend to return with the Leier,” she answered.

  He chuckled. “Another journey, then. I suppose you are now more than just a First of the Blade…”

  Her finger went to the hilt of her sword, and she traced it over the etched marks along the surface—the notches that signified a greater rank than she’d ever had. Her new rank suggested she was something more.

  There was a time when she would’ve given anything to have even a single notch. She’d failed so often, and so frequently, that she had started to believe she would never gain one, that she would never rise above the rank of First of the Blade. But now that she had not just one notch, but six…

  Imogen still didn’t know what to make of it, and didn’t know whether she should be pleased or disappointed. The transition had been in her mind more than anything else. It had come from her ability to master the sacred patterns, but that ability had come not from greater skill but from her understanding of the flow of those patterns. She’d realized there was some other part of the patterns themselves she had needed to understand.

  Not only that, but soldiers, including Jorend, continued to refer to her as “General.” And she was their leader, though there were times when she did not know if that was what she wanted for herself.

  “That’s all I’m going to do for now,” she said.

  “You might find that you are tasked with even more than you intend.”

  She cocked a brow at him. “Is that something you see?”

  One of his Porapeth abilities was prophecy, at least as far as she had been able to determine, though Benji was careful not to call it that. He was also careful not to reveal too much about his abilities.

  “Nothing so exotic as that,” he said, waving his hand. “It is more about seeing you with them. Recognizing how you belong. Isn’t that what you have always wanted?”

  “I suppose it is.”

  He laughed. “Now I’m going to need you to come with me. There’s something up ahead.”

  She frowned at him. Benji was often vague, and despite everything they’d been through, she kept hoping that he would reveal his abilities to her in ways he had not yet. She needed to understand his Porapeth connection so that she knew why he continued to travel with her. There was a reason behind it, much like there was a reason he could not use his magic to see possible futures when he was around her. Whatever reason that was, Imogen had a strong suspicion that she would have to learn more.

  And eventually, she would have to understand what her brother intended now that he had attacked her and revealed the true depth of his power.

  “Would you care to give me some idea of where we’re going?” she asked.

  Were they dealing with branox—or worse? They hadn’t seen anything during their travels the last few days, but that didn’t mean they were safe. Still, she increasingly thought these lands might protect them. Their surroundings were green, vibrant, lush. It was a place where they could thrive, unlike the harsh mountains of her homeland.

  “Would I care? Sure, I care. Will I, though?” He barked out a laugh.

  She shook her head and followed him through the greenery that surrounded them. Imogen trudged through strange-looking plants that grew up to her knees. The Koral called them “forinath” and claimed they were edible if harvested correctly, or they could be medicinal when steeped in tea. Imogen had no experience with it, much like she’d never had any experience heading this deep into the Koral lands.

  Everything looked so different than it did in the L
eier lands. Her homeland had fields of green, but nothing like this. The mountains were a constant backdrop for the Leier, as if a promise of the danger that existed high up in the mountain passes. The air was cooler where she was from, nothing like this comfortable warmth that mixed with the aroma of the greenery and the flowers that bloomed in the meadow.

  Benji strode forward, practically dancing as he moved, and every so often he paused to tip his head back and breathe in deeply. The land terraced downward, with small drop-offs leading to flat expanses of grassy land. They had to scale each one carefully before continuing onward. The climb wasn’t terribly arduous, but Imogen began to question how she would be able to return.

  “How was this formed?” she asked after they stepped down onto the third outcropping.

  Benji glanced back at her. “Why would this have been formed?”

  “It looks too… perfect.”

  “If you think this is perfect, then you should wait until you get deeper into their lands.”

  “You’ve been here?”

  “The ground tells me all I need to know.”

  It wasn’t a denial, though there was no need for Benji to deny what he might hear and learn from everything around him. It was one of his unique characteristics, and one she found impressive. His magic permitted him to communicate with everything around him. He seemed to believe that she could do the same, though her understanding of the sacred patterns had not gifted her that ability.

  Benji glanced over, as if knowing her thoughts. “All you have to do is ask.”

  “Ask you or the land?”

  His laugh carried out into the gentle breeze. “Are they different?”

  She frowned, and he laughed again.

  “Keep moving,” he said, dancing forward.

  “I am moving,” Imogen muttered, this time under her breath.

  Benji chuckled once more.

  They reached another rocky outcropping, and far below was a pool of water. With the sun shining, Imogen saw that the water reflected a clear, almost crystalline color. As she climbed down the rock toward the pool, the shimmering rays shifted, changing the water from clear to deep blue, then to shades of green.

  Then she realized they were not alone.

  She froze as she spotted several figures before her, and Benji kept moving.

  “Benji,” she whispered. “Do you see them?”

  “See? Of course I see. That is where we are going.”

  Imogen glanced behind her. There were no others, yet she could feel a strange charge in the air, almost as if there was a crackling energy here.

  Sorcery. She was certain of it.

  She wasn’t afraid of any sorcerer—at least she wasn’t typically—but there would be danger to her if one of the people in front of her were to use it. She had encountered more than her fair share of dangerous sorcerers, and if this was somebody of power…

  Imogen held her hand near the hilt of her sword and hesitated, then crept farther and farther down. She neared the pool of water and breathed in slowly.

  Ever since descending the mountains, the air had grown warmer, much more than it had been in the mountains, and even warmer than it had been when they were out west. Now there was a sense of humidity that reminded her of when she had journeyed into the city of Nelar.

  Imogen breathed in the humid air, and when she let out her breath, she could feel something around her. Like a cloud settling. A pressure began to lower upon her, as if it intended to squeeze and flatten her. She approached carefully, slowly, but Benji marched straight ahead, seemingly unconcerned about anything and eager to join those ahead of them.

  She shook her head. Of course he would have no concerns.

  “Benji,” she whispered.

  He glanced in her direction, but something in his eyes suggested he wanted her to be quiet.

  The ground rumbled softly. She had learned that Benji had control over that ability with his Porapeth powers, and he used it as his way of communicating with things beyond him. She didn’t know what or who he was communicating with now, only that if the ground was shaking, then it was tied to him.

  Only…

  This time, it didn’t seem to be Benji. It was coming from one of these other people.

  Imogen studied them. A golden-haired woman who was about a head taller than her stood at the edge of the pool, hands clasped together in front of her. She wore a robe that matched the water, reflecting blue or green, and sometimes it looked translucent depending on which way the wind tugged at it and which way she turned.

  Imogen realized with a start that the woman had silver eyes. Another Porapeth?

  Two others stood behind her. One woman had jet-black hair like Imogen, cut at shoulder length. The man was slightly taller, with short black hair, pale skin, and a determined tilt to his jaw. The blades they each carried were remarkable. From her vantage, Imogen could make out the tight leather wrappings around the hilt, but the pommel was the most impressive part of their blades, carved in the shape of an animal’s head. One looked like a wolf, and the other a tiger.

  Both of them had at least a dozen notches along their blades.

  These two had to be from the sacred temples. There was the wolf temple and the tiger temple, where Imogen had studied. They also had to be powerful.

  Imogen had come here thinking she could handle any sorcerer present. If it had been a sorcerer, then she might have been able to do so. But a Porapeth…

  She had no idea whether she could withstand an attack from someone with Benji’s power. She hadn’t needed to before. Dealing with magic was one thing. Dealing with sacred warriors who had at least a dozen notches along their blades might be beyond her ability.

  Even one such opponent would be difficult, but two? Two would be more than she could handle.

  What had Benji gotten her into now?

  Chapter Three

  The scenery would’ve been beautiful were it not for the threat Imogen felt. The air was heavy in a way that it didn’t feel in the mountains. Every so often, there came a gust of fragrant wind, bringing with it the smells of flowers and the dense grasses they had traveled through.

  Instinct had honed Imogen’s ability to sense a threat, and she knew not to ignore it.

  Benji grinned as he approached the golden-haired woman. “Abigail,” he said, nodding politely. “It amuses me that you are here.”

  The woman bowed her head and then took in Imogen behind him, flicking her gaze from Imogen’s face down to her sword. A hint of a smile crept in. “Benji. You are far from your domain.” Though there was warmth in her voice, there was an edge to her words that suggested irritation.

  Benji spread his hands to the side, and he tapped his foot. The ground rumbled, though it eased quickly. Was Abigail subduing his power?

  “Must I stay within a single domain?” he asked.

  “You know the pact.”

  Benji chuckled and crossed his arms, mimicking Abigail’s stance. “A pact you forced, I seem to recall.”

  She cocked her head to the side and frowned deeply. “It was made quite clear to me what would happen if I were to venture beyond my realm.”

  “You mean the danger of the Toral thinking to assume the mantle of Sul’toral by ascending using Porapeth power?”

  “When would such a thing happen?”

  Benji’s silver eyes hardened and Imogen thought he was angry, but that moment passed as the smile returned to his face. Still, she had been around him often enough over the last few months that she had come to know that expression. Despite his smile, there was real anger in his eyes.

  “Such a thing would happen with Dheleus,” he said. “A Toral thought he could raise in stature by destroying me.”

  “A shame,” Abigail said.

  Benji shrugged. “It was not going to work. It never could have.”

  “Never?”

  “Well, we knew it could work, but the likelihood is low.”

  Imogen had not heard that from Benji before. When he h
ad talked about Timo attempting to take his power, he had always suggested he was certain that he couldn’t have his power stripped. But here he was, admitting to this other Porapeth that it might be possible.

  What was going on here? Why did it seem as though Benji was accusing Abigail of having some hand in what had taken place?

  “The likelihood is low,” Abigail agreed. “And in your case, I think we must be thankful it failed.”

  “We must be,” Benji said. His smile returned as he spread his hands to the side. The wind whipped around, and he breathed it in. The air shimmered near him, forming something of a cloak that reminded Imogen of what Abigail wore.

  Her cloak was a construct of magic too. Of course it would be. It was similar to how Benji had created a band of power and wrapped the wind in a specific way, solidifying it and allowing Imogen to see at a great distance. Abigail likely used the wind to catch and reflect the glimmering colors of the lake in front of them.

  “You are well outside your usual domain,” Abigail said.

  Benji nodded. “On a journey to ensure the safety of others.”

  “Traveling with one of the Leier?” Abigail turned her attention to Imogen, and her gaze swept from head to toe.

  Imogen felt as if she were being weighed and measured, and she had no idea if the other woman found her lacking. It was an unnerving feeling. She had never been around somebody of such power, the kind of raw magical energy that sizzled and left her feeling completely helpless. Even when dealing with the Toral—and the Sul’toral, for that matter—there had always been part of Imogen that felt as if she had a way of defending herself against them. The patterns, traditional and sacred, offered her a measure of protection. Around somebody like Abigail, a Porapeth of unimaginable power, she found herself unsettled.

  “One of the Leier,” Imogen replied, “and now the general.”

  Abigail smirked, and she tore her gaze away, her silver eyes glittering with amusement. “The general. Something must’ve happened to poor Derashen, then.”

  “Something,” Benji said.