The Gift of Madness (The Lost Prophecy Book 7) Read online

  “How are we going to get there?” Salindra asked.

  “By boat,” he said.

  She shot him a look. “The ship can’t get that close. Not with those rocks.”

  Brohmin stared at the shore. He’d been here enough times that he knew how difficult it could be to get all the way in to Salvat, at least to this part of the island. Sharp rocks threatened any vessel that came too close, making navigating through here difficult. The captain had already indicated that he would go only so far, and no farther. Brohmin had no choice but to accept whatever distance he was willing to travel.

  “We’ll be reaching shore in the dinghy,” he said.

  He motioned to the small rowing boat that was tied to the stern. It was just visible from where they stood at the railing, and the waves didn’t crash over it quite as much as they did near the bow. Brohmin suspected the small vessel was filled with water and knew they would need to dump all of it out before attempting to reach the shore, but in these seas, he didn’t know if he could successfully navigate through the rocks without crashing into them. Though he’d been through here a few times over the years, less lately, the seas changed, making travel unpredictable.

  The large form of the captain came around the wheel of the ship. He walked with a surefooted grace, undeterred by the storm or the rocking of the ship. He kept his head shaved but had a thick mustache that he twisted absently while speaking to his men, something he did as he approached. A short sword was strapped to his waist. Considering how surefooted he was, Brohmin suspected the captain was quite capable with the sword.

  “This is as far as I will go,” the captain said.

  “You’ll wait for us?” Brohmin asked.

  The captain chuckled. “On these seas? I’ll give you half a day, but I’m not sure that I can risk much longer than that.”

  He felt Salindra’s heated gaze on him. Even without seeing her, he knew what must be in her mind. They had traveled stormy seas and were now in waters that even a seasoned captain was unwilling to stay in for long, though the captain had been more than willing to accept the hefty bag of coin Brohmin had offered. But they had to get to the Conclave. For them to find the answers he needed, yes he was putting her in a waterlogged dinghy to go ashore. But what choice did they have?

  “I’ll take half a day.”

  It wouldn’t be enough, and they risked being stranded on Salvat, forced to find alternative transport off the island. He didn’t mind finding another way off; what troubled him was how much more time would be wasted searching for it.

  And then there was the question of where they would travel once they left the island. He didn’t know what the next destination would need to be. Would he find anything that would take him back north to Gomald or Chrysia, ports that might have other answers—or at least a way for him to more easily reach Thealon? If the Lashiin priests were telling the truth, the high priest of the Urmahne had discovered something within Thealon that had revealed a secret of the damahne.

  “Your best time to go is when I come about. It’ll give you the shortest distance to row.”

  Brohmin nodded as he took Salindra’s arm and led her to the stern of the ship. To his surprise, the dinghy was mostly dry. Was there a hole that he’d have to worry about? He didn’t see any, so maybe it was more about the angle the dinghy was suspended at than anything else. Two of the sailors began lowering it to the violent sea below.

  Salindra watched, her eyes wide with terror. “We can’t take that little boat out there,” she said, nodding to the next swell that came toward them.

  “We don’t have any choice but to take this vessel. There’s no other way in, not without tacking on an additional week to the journey.”

  Even then, Brohmin wasn’t certain they would reach it. If they pulled into Sadaniin, the largest port on the island—and the nearest—there would be at least one week’s ride, and that was if the horses could make it over the rocky terrain. There was limited water supply, making passage incredibly difficult.

  He took her hand and helped her into the dinghy, climbing in after her as the small boat began to descend. As soon as they reached the water and released the lines, the rocking became even more intense. They had to row several hundred yards, and he feared they could capsize a dozen times, especially with the nature of the waves and the unpredictability of the current here. But considering the storms—and the one he saw on the horizon—they would not likely have any better time to attempt this.

  “You have your abilities,” Brohmin reminded her.

  Salindra steadied herself, taking a deep breath. Since her restoration, she had often forgotten about her abilities. Brohmin suspected her abilities had changed, that whatever the daneamiin had done had altered her in such a way that her abilities were much like the Mage abilities she’d once had, but altered ever so slightly.

  Each of them took an oar and began rowing. As the waves crashed around them, rolling them up and over huge swells, Brohmin lost sight of the ship. He focused on the shore, and on the visible rocks, fearing there were more that he couldn’t see.

  A massive wave threw them into the air, and they flowed down the backside of it. He rowed frantically, trying to get ahead of the next one, as the winds whipped around him. Thunder began to rumble close by, a steady drumbeat of energy and violence.

  Salindra worked with her oar, pulling on it with as much strength as she could manage, her jaw clenched as tightly as it had been while onboard the ship.

  “Not much farther—”

  Brohmin didn’t have a chance to finish. A wave flipped them, throwing them both out of the boat. When Brohmin landed in the water, his head struck a rock, and he felt pulled beneath the surface of the water.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The inside of the Tower carried a dusty odor that tickled Jakob’s nose. His heart fluttered with anxiety at what he intended. Would it even work? If it didn’t, would he be in danger of being weakened simply trying this?

  Even if he succeeded, he would be weakened. Especially if he succeeded. By how much, though?

  Did it matter?

  None of the damahne that he’d seen in the visions of his past had possessed nearly as much ahmaean as what Jakob now possessed. He recognized the danger of a single individual holding on to power that should be spread out. There should not be only one person possessing this type of power.

  What else could happen?

  He tried to think of the possibilities, wishing that Novan still remained within the Tower. If nothing else, the historian could help him know whether this was a mistake. But how could it be when it was what had been done to him to awaken his connection to the damahne?

  And Jakob knew these others were damahne. He had detected the potential within them and had felt the way their ahmaean pulsed against his.

  The only hesitation he had was concern over how the madness—and what had happened to them—affected them.

  Maybe it would not affect them at all. Maybe they had come to terms with what they had experienced and would be able to recognize what was real and what was not, but Scottan had made it sound like that was difficult. He could not be alone in that.

  “How many are there?” Anda asked.

  He was impressed that she didn’t question the fact that he’d brought the new damahne to the Tower. What choice had he other than to bring them here? They were safer here. Perhaps not entirely safe—not against groeliin with the ability to shift—but certainly they were protected much more than they had been before. Chrysia was not a place for him to have kept them.

  “In Chrysia, a dozen or so.”

  “And how many outside of Chrysia?”

  Jakob hesitated. He hadn’t even considered that, but why wouldn’t there be others outside of the city? There would have to be others—probably countless others—and each of them had awoken to a time—and a mind—that was not theirs. They would struggle with memories that were not theirs, glimpsed only in visions.

  “I will have to
search.”

  “And they are here?”

  He nodded. “Most have taken residence throughout the Tower.”

  “They were not troubled by the fact that they were to a place they believed to belong to the gods?”

  “Most of them have struggled with their visions long enough that they had moved past such hesitation. Some actually aren’t certain whether they have fully awoken.”

  Jakob climbed the stairs, taking them two at a time. As he did, he pushed out with his ahmaean, sending it out in a cloud in front of him. It took him a few more steps to realize what he was doing, and the way that he used his ahmaean. It was the same way the first groeliin had used his ahmaean.

  What did that mean? Was it that all ahmaean was interconnected, or did it mean that Jakob also had some strange connection to the groeliin?

  The idea of that bothered him more than anything else.

  If the daneamiin had a connection to the groeliin, why should he not? Why should he be offended by the possibility that he did?

  He should not.

  “Where will you be heading?” Anda asked.

  He had given some thought to which of the damahne he would visit first, and the answer had come easily. Even were Scottan here, he doubted he could have asked him to be his first. He needed to ensure that whoever he first attempted to gift ahmaean to was capable of receiving that gift, and had the mental fortitude to understand what to do with it.

  “There is a woman here who I think will help.”

  He stopped on the seventh level of the Tower and found the door that he searched for. After his sharp knock, Bethanne opened the door and peered out at him. She studied him a moment, before pulling it open. She gasped.

  “What is that?”

  Jakob turned and nodded to Anda. She must not have left her glamour in place. “That is Anda. She is one of the daneamiin. They are descended from the damahne.”

  Bethanne blinked. “You keep throwing an awful lot at me.”

  “And I will continue to put more on you. You have the potential to at least understand what is needed of you, and unfortunately, that might be more than you ever expected.”

  “I still don’t have any sense of control. All I have are these memories that you now tell me are not my own. I’m not sure what to do with them other than sort through them and try to figure out what I should know.”

  “That’s all you can do. As you do, realize that only what you’ve lived should be stored. I think we’re meant to gain experience and understanding from our connection to the fibers, but I don’t think we were ever meant to hold on to the memories of other people.”

  “It is difficult.”

  “I know.”

  Bethanne watched him for a moment before stepping aside and motioning him in.

  The inside of the room was comfortable. She had found a carpet somewhere and rolled it out. Any dust that had been in the room had been swept away. The bed was neatly made, and two chairs were angled along the wall. Jakob took one of the chairs. “You have decorated this nicely.”

  Bethanne looked around the room, a rueful smile on her face. “This is the nicest place I’ve ever lived.”

  “I imagine the others feel the same way,” Jakob said.

  “Perhaps they do, but most of them are still struggling with what they’ve gone through,” Bethanne said.

  “But you don’t entirely know, either.”

  Bethanne shot him a look of exasperation. “I wish that I did. I wish I understood everything that had taken place, but all I know is that I was sick, and now I’m not. I have you to thank for it, and I suspect I have you to thank for the strangeness that I sense around me.”

  “What is it that you detect?”

  “There’s pressure. I close my eyes, and I can feel it. Even when I don’t close my eyes, I think I can feel it. It’s always there, at the edge of my vision.”

  Jakob glanced over to Anda, and she nodded. “You’re detecting ahmaean,” he said. “That is the power that binds the world. As you continue your journey, you will detect it even more. In time, you should be able to see it, and then you’ll be able to use it. When that happens, there will be even more potential for you. I look forward to your growing understanding.”

  “I fear that it will take too long. You seem to be impatient, Jakob. Whatever is happening requires our help now, doesn’t it?”

  Jakob smiled at her. “I will take whatever help I can get. I can’t force you to be ready, but another might. Which is why I’m here.”

  She cocked her head to the side. “You didn’t come to find out about what I’ve learned?”

  “I am happy to hear all about it, but that is not the reason I have come.”

  “And that is?”

  Jakob nodded to the chair across from him. She stared at him a moment, before taking a seat. Jakob reached across the distance and wrapped his fingers around her wrist. When he did, there was a connection, one that came from a surge of ahmaean, a mingling of sorts between the two of them. He had known that sensation before, but it was always within his visions. It was rare for him to have such an intense mingling while not being in one of the visions and while not looking back through someone else’s eyes. He had shared something like this with Anda, but sharing it with another of the damahne was even more powerful.

  Bethanne’s eyes widened slightly, and Jakob was aware that she felt it, too.

  What had Alyta done?

  Somehow, she had passed on a part of her connection, but he struggled to recall what exactly she had done.

  It had involved pouring her ahmaean from herself.

  He drew upon his connection, sending a milky strand toward Bethanne. It washed over her, mingling with her connection to the power, and he retreated, hoping that it would remain with her.

  It did not. Instead, it withdrew.

  How could he leave it with her?

  He’d been told that only a damahne could pass ahmaean to another damahne, which meant that he had to be able to do so.

  He tried again, pushing a hint more of his ahmaean.

  Something pulsed against him. It was faint, but he was aware of what it was. There was a steady beating, much like what his head had done when it had throbbed from the effort of unintentionally using his damahne abilities.

  Could he sever what he possessed, somehow delivering it to her?

  Maybe it had more to do with his doubts. Jakob remained uncertain about whether this was what he should be doing. What would happen if he failed? What would happen to the ahmaean—would he lose it? Would it simply dissipate if Bethanne was somehow not able to accept it? If so, much more could be lost, and he was unwilling to make that sacrifice.

  But he had to try. For the sake of the damahne, and the sake of what else must be done, he had to set aside his doubts and try.

  Jakob pushed against that pulsing, against that resistance he felt within Bethanne, and then severed his connection to the ahmaean.

  He withdrew, half expecting the ahmaean that he had attempted to leave within Bethanne to withdraw with him, but it did not.

  She gasped.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  Jakob waited. If it had worked, if he had succeeded in granting her a greater connection to ahmaean, he could work with the others. It would mean diluting his own connection to ahmaean, but perhaps that was the only way to defeat Raime. They needed strength in numbers.

  “What do you feel?”

  “I feel… invigorated.” She stood and look around her. “I… I see… something.”

  Jakob glanced at Anda.

  “I think it worked, Jakob Nialsen.”

  “What worked?” Bethanne asked.

  “I wanted to awaken more of your potential,” Jakob said. “In order to do that, I was forced to grant you part of my ahmaean. I didn’t know whether it would work, but it was how my own ability was awoken.”

  She gasped again. “Doing that would mean you’ve sacrificed part of yourself?”

  Ja
kob shook his head. “There’s no sacrifice. I can’t be the only one who possesses this power. If something were to happen to me—”

  Bethanne shook her head vigorously. “Nothing can happen to you, Jakob. We need you.”

  “If something were to happen to me,” he went on, “I can’t be the only one who possesses the connection to the ahmaean. Raime searches for me. He will do everything in his power to steal from me. It’s possible that he will even defeat me. If that happens, he cannot claim the damahne ahmaean. He has tried it once before, and he failed. He cannot be allowed to try again and succeed.”

  “But if you give this to me, won’t you risk him being too strong for you to defeat?”

  Jakob took a deep breath. It was possible, but Bethanne couldn’t know that. He couldn’t put that on her shoulders. He wanted her to think that whatever else happened, he had a way of keeping the damahne safe.

  “I think Raime fears me. I’ve stopped him more than once, and that is enough to make him careful.”

  “But careful does not mean you can stop him,” Bethanne said.

  “It does not. That’s why I need to try and awaken as many of the others as I can. You were the first, because I thought you had the greatest chance of being successful. If this works, and if your connection remains, then I’ll know. Then I can try with the others.”

  “Including your brother?”

  “I’ve attempted something different with my brother. I think his challenge is less than his connection to this new ability, and more about a difficulty that stems from what he’s lost.”

  “We’ve all lost, Jakob.”

  Jakob sighed. “I know you have. I lost as well, but perhaps not as much as most of you, who lost years.”

  Bethanne smiled. There was a hint of sadness in it, but something else, too. Was it hope? “You said that before, but it’s not entirely true. I don’t know about the others, but I didn’t lose years. I may have lost myself for part of that time, but I gained something else.”