By Frank Janrae
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Extra resources for Blood Rites
He cradled Josiah, trying to get a little broth down him. The mage had become so weak that he could no longer rise to dine at the table. " Isranon asked. "Shared life…random factor. I don't know. " Josiah closed his eyes, turning his head into Isranon's shoulder. "Josiah, please don't pass out. " Isranon shook him gently. Josiah stirred again. " "I know. " Isranon finally freed himself of the tangling folds of his dreams when he heard a voice call his name. It came as clear as if he heard it aloud rather than with that inner spirit-ear of his gift.
Nevin nodded. " His cousin departed. With no one to see him, Nevin allowed his emotions to show. Grief was chief among them, a narrowing, down turn in his eyes and a tightness in his mouth. Anger lent a glitter to his pupils, darkening them to shining black. Nevin foraged in the dressers for a bit of cloth and cleaned the oozing blood from Isranon's arm and shoulder. The Beast had been rough and savage with him, which rankled Nevin. He bandaged the tears. Isranon was fading fast. Anksha was killing him.
When a sa'necari died by that blade, all the souls he had taken in the rites were finally released. He had never seen the Sacred King before, but he recognized her from her descriptions, for she had feathered wings of azure, tipped in scarlet. And still the images rolled across the water. White mist with sparkling silver motes of power flowed forth from the bloody gushing stump of Mephistis' neck. The chamber filled with ghosts, crowding it, flowing out into the corridors. A wail went up from the sa'necari and they fled through the windows.