OBSIDIAN GUARD BOOK 2

CHAPTER 4 IRONSPIRE MEET OBSIDIAN GUARD

POV Alistair

The reports on my desk were stained with more than just ink. Some bore the copper tang of dried blood; others carried the faint, cloying scent of Poppy's delirium spices.

My spies stood in the center of the solar, their heads bowed low. These were men and women who had slipped through the darkest cracks of the continent, yet today, they looked shaken.

"None of them spoke, Sire," the lead spy whispered. "Those who didn't die in the initial skirmish took their own lives in the cells. We found one trying to swallow his own tongue; another beat his head against the stone until his skull gave way. Even when we bound them, they seemed to find a way to simply... switch off. It's not just loyalty, My Lord. It's fanaticism."

"And the tattoos?" I asked, my voice dropping to a dangerous register.

"Every one of them. A crown, woven into the skin directly above the heart. We couldn't break them, and we believe the tattoo is the reason."

I dismissed them with a sharp wave. I needed a moment to think. I looked out the window at Ironspire.

Not long ago, this view was nothing but soot, starving children, and the stench of decay. Now, the hanging gardens were in bloom, and the streets were lit with the soft, steady glow of civic pride.

It was a masterpiece of peace, but peace is a fragile thing when someone starts stealing your future.

A knock at the door shattered the silence. A messenger stood there, his face ashen. "The siblings are requesting your presence at the Main House, Alistair. They say the interrogation has yielded... results."

I finished the last of my paperwork with a steady hand, though my blood was beginning to simmer. I walked through the city I had rebuilt, heading toward the heart of the Syndicate.

The Main House felt like a fortress and a home all at once. Inside, the air was thick, vibrating with the overlapping weaves of my family. Eleven of them, including me, were present; only one was missing, currently on a long-range mission.

Most of the siblings rarely leave the city these days. Why would they? We had turned Ironspire into a paradise; there was no need to escape to this fortress isolated so far from the city.

The scene in the dining room was exactly what I had always dreamed of, and exactly what the world feared.

Saffron, our healer, was washing blood from her hands at the sideboard. She looked exhausted. Her ability had far exceeded anything the world had ever seen; she could pull a man back from the very lip of the grave, a skill that had been unfortunately necessary today.

Across from her sat our two most volatile members. Gideon and Dante were no more deadly than anyone else in the room, but they were certainly the loudest.

Gideon, the Heart Weaver, was methodically cleaning his knuckles. He was a psychopath who loved the rhythm of pain, usually found hitting things just to hear the specific, hollow sound they made.

Beside him, Dante, the Molecule Weaver, was idly playing with a small ball of fire that shouldn't have been able to exist in his palm. Dante was deranged, a man who viewed the world as a series of explosions waiting to happen. He hated "boring" uses of his power, like shifting matter or stabilizing structures. He liked the boom.

"He's alive," Saffron said, her voice tight. She didn't need to elaborate; she knew what I wanted.

"Barely," she continued. "Dante accidentally took off two of his fingers by vibrating the atoms too fast, and Gideon... well, Gideon did what he does. I've had to sew the wretch back together three times now."

Vane, our Truth Weaver, stood by the fireplace, his eyes reflecting the flames. "He finally broke. Between those two AND Caspian trapping him in a living nightmare AND Poppy feeding him a slurry that turned his mind to soup, he didn't have a choice. Even the tattoo couldn't hold us all off forever."

"Tell me," I commanded.

"The tattoo is a loyalty type weave," Sterling, the Sensory Weaver, explained. His eyes darted constantly, as if he were feeling the vibrations of the entire city through the floorboards. "It's designed to give the wearer a layer of immunity against external weaves and enhances their loyalty to their master. It's clever, but thin. Against one of us, it's a nuisance. Against all of us? It's tissue paper."

"And their origin?"

"Obsidian Guard," Lucian said, stepping out of the shadows in the corner. As a Shadow Weaver, he was nearly invisible until he chose to be seen. "The city of the volcano and stones led my their Queen named Valeryen. They've been kidnapping our children for months, Alistair. They think our blood is a resource to be mined, just like their jewels."

Jasmine, the Pheromone Weaver, let out a sharp, mocking laugh that carried a hint of unnatural allure. "They use those stones to amplify their pathetic little weaves. I remember their traders. They wanted a king's ransom for a handful of Azure Lapis. Why would we buy a megaphone when we already have the voice of a god?"

The room went silent as they all looked at me. The Syndicate was a family, but I was the anchor.

"They think we've grown soft," I said, the words feeling like ice in my throat. "They think because our children are fed and our streets are clean, we've forgotten how to bleed. They believe they can treat Ironspire like a garden to be picked."

I looked at my siblings, the monsters I had raised to be protectors.

"I'm sending you out in pairs," I began, my voice gaining the weight of a death sentence. "Gideon, you take Jasmine. Lucian, you take Dante—actually, take Saffron as well. We'll need her to keep your 'distractions' from becoming permanent. Vane and Poppy, you go together. Caspian and Sterling, I know I couldn't split you twins, apart even if I wanted to.

"I want you to go to the Obsidian Guard and figure out what this place and this Queen are truly about. I don't want you to sneak. I don't want you to hide in the shadows unless it amuses you. But," I paused, looking each of them in the eye, "I do not want a war. Not yet. Don't kill unless provoked, and don't stir up more trouble than is necessary to be seen. I want you to get the feel for their city and let me know what you find."

I stood up, my own power humming under my skin like a trapped storm.

"I want Queen Valeryen to see you coming. I want her to know that the Syndicate has arrived, and I want her to understand exactly what happens when you steal from us."