Chains of a Dark Goddess (39 page)

Breskaro turned slightly and met her golden eyes. The green fire coiling within his own began to dim.

“Esha
loved
you, Breskaro. Instinctually she recognized your service to me. That is what drew her to you. She knew you would protect her and guide her.”

“What if I’d let her ... you ... die upon that cross?”

“Esha would have been reborn again, somewhere, and would have lived out her life waiting for another opportunity to become me again.”

Breskaro’s eyes scanned the battlefield, noting the many fallen. “So many died for ... the idea of you.”

“I was trapped and cursed for centuries just as Harmulkot had been. It was not my doing. I swear to you I will correct all the wrongs of the Seshallan faith. I will reform the Church and restore the purity of our society as best as I can.”

Her voice came then into his mind. “
Does Orisala have an oval birthmark on her chest
?”

“
Yes
,” he thought in return. “
I already know it marks her as a descendant of Harmulkot
.”

“
Only Harmulkot can use the device to heal Orisala, but do not trust her. I will do what I can to help you
.”

Harmulkot approached them and said, “Who will you serve now, Breskaro Varenni? Whose champion shall you be?”

“I am yours, Harmulkot. Until our deal is done.”

“Then let us settle matters here.”

Breskaro went to Kedimius and Seshalla followed him. Kedimius was still weeping over Ilsimia. 

Seshalla knelt beside him. “You did what you had to, Kedimius Threnna. You had my back, just as you promised you would. I am grateful.”

“It was a terrible promise.”

“It was a foretelling. But Esha only knew it was important that you promise. In doing so, you saved the goddess you had pledged your life to. Had Ilsimia struck down Esha at that moment, my power would not have been restored and this battle would yet rage at a cost of many more lives.”

“It is little comfort.”

“I know. Be strong. I am ever in your debt.”

“Then release me from all the promises I made to you when I became a knight.”

She placed a hand on his head. “I release you from my service, Kedimius Threnna, though I shall always name you as one of my greatest champions.”

Nodding to Breskaro, Whum limped over and patted Kedimius on the shoulder. “I’m sorry, Ked. If you need anything...”

Following Harmulkot, Breskaro checked on Aleui. The priestess was cut badly on one shoulder and on her leg, but a young Issalian knight, spattered with blood, had bandaged her wounds and was holding her up. She was thanking him for his generosity. Harmulkot whispered something to Aleui who smiled broadly.

“The mechanism!” Breskaro said in alarm, remembering the damage the device had taken, how it had overheated and expelled smoke. “Harmulkot, I had to turn its power onto myself. And the wires took a lot of damage when I was blasted by the crystals.”

She examined the back of the device and shrugged. “Turning it on oneself is unprecedented. Try raising a single corpse with minimum power.”

Breskaro animated a soldier and had him sit up. “Everything seems to work, though it feels a bit ... off.”

Harmulkot groaned. “Let the corpse go. If any remain out here, let them all go.”

Breskaro released all the undead from his mind and throughout the battlefield those who remained slumped to the ground. 

“Is it bad? Can we still—”

“I think we can still save Orisala with it, though I’m not certain anymore. It has taken a lot of damage. Do not use it for anything else.”

Chapter 57

During the weeks of clean up, burying the dead, tending the wounded, and clearing the pass, Breskaro hid himself away in the library and concentrated on practicing binding spells. He didn’t attend the ceremony celebrating the surviving batrakosians for their efforts before they returned to Peithoom. Most of all, he couldn’t bring himself to face Seshalla, though he also couldn’t get her out of his mind. But soon she was gone, along with Kedimius, racing back to Issaly with the White and Scarlet Guards. Kedimius intended to give Ilsimia a proper funeral in Issaly. And Seshalla had to convince a city and an empire of her identity and her right to rule.

Whum finally cornered Breskaro in the library.

“You’re up to something, old friend.”

“Guarding my back,” Breskaro replied.

“You think Lady Harmulkot will try something?”

“You think she won’t?”

“How’re your wounds?”

“Healed, though the burn scars haven’t faded. Seshalla offered to treat them but...”

Whum bobbed his head. “Weird, huh? Such a sweet little girl. I mean, she was
strange
all right. The way she used that sling ... But she was a good kid. It wasn’t her fault, you know.”

“Maybe once I’ve seen to Orisala, I’ll be able to deal with it. But right now ... I’ve spent so long holding on to my anger, seven years in the Shadowland, only to discover it was all misplaced. How do you have revenge on an idea?”

“You crucified a thousand priests is what I heard.”

“It wasn’t that many. But I did kill a lot of ... I guess you
could
call them innocents.”

“Do you regret it?”

“I’d do it all over again.”

“You know that’s not the same,” Whum replied. “Do you regret it now that it’s done?”

Breskaro closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He shrugged. “I
should
care.”

Whum pulled up a chair and sat across from Breskaro. “What will you do after Orisala’s recovered?”

“Spend time with her,” Breskaro replied. “As much as I can.”

Whum grinned and shook his head.

“I know you. You’ll spend time with her, maybe even a year, but you’ll grow restless and she’ll be wanting to live her own life. What will you do
then
?”

Breskaro fingered the bronze mask. He’d left it dented but had fixed the strap. “I didn’t really think I had a chance of making it through this. And once Orisala is well...” He shrugged. “I’ve extracted my vengeance. Brought down the Matriarch, punished Sir Fortrenzi, killed Magnos. But it all feels ...
hollow
. I spent seven years in the Shadowland. The Keeper of Death warned me my soul wouldn’t be the same in life. Maybe I’ll always feel this way. But I don’t know.”

“You still haven’t answered my question,” Whum said.

Breskaro sighed. “I don’t know. That’s my answer. I don’t know.”

Whum patted him on the shoulder and headed toward the door. “Well, that’s not a problem I have. I’ve got an underworld to run. There’s a lot to do now. Many things are changing. Harmulkot’s even promised me a seat on the council.”

~~~

Breskaro and Harmulkot prepared to leave for the Temple of the Rose of Keshomae. Breskaro exchanged qavra with Aleui who was staying behind to run the city until Harmulkot returned. 

“You can trust Whum,” he told Aleui. “He’s a man of his word, so long as you can get a word from him.”

She smiled devilishly. “I don’t think I’ll have any trouble from him.”

Breskaro climbed into the saddle, disappointed to be riding a normal horse. None would ever match Nightsoul. He’d felt a bond with the demon horse, had sensed they were somehow alike.

“It is not necessary for them to meet us at the shrine,” Harmulkot said to him as he rode out through Kerokar Pass. 

“I don’t want Seshalla there either,” Breskaro said, though he actually
did
want her there, figuring she might could counter Harmulkot if necessary. Harmulkot hadn’t done anything
not
to earn his trust. But he still had a suspicion, perhaps unfounded, that she was up to something. “But I’m not going to try to stop her. As for Kedimius, he has a right to be there. She may still love him.”

“If the mechanism does not work, if it is too damaged, what then will you do?”

“I will tear apart this world until I find a way to cure her.” Breskaro clenched her qavra in his fist. “And
you
will help me.”

~~~

Breskaro, Harmulkot, Seshalla, and Kedimius gathered outside Issaly and traveled to the Temple of the Rose of Keshomae. Breskaro brooded. The others picked up on his mood, and so the party rode in anxious silence.

Nalsyrra and High Priest Artorio greeted them outside the temple. Artorio bowed respectfully before Seshalla. He tried to seem calm in the presence of two goddesses, one of whom was said to be evil, but he visibly quivered in fear. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Harmulkot who walked with them in her ghost form. 

Kedimius was astonished by Nalsyrra’s appearance: the ebony skin and yellow eyes, the silver tattoos and the alizarin qavra. Harmulkot and Seshalla were not. Breskaro, who had already sensed Nalsyrra’s danger and power, was stunned to see a glint of worry in both their eyes. The goddesses shared a meaningful glance behind her back that he couldn’t interpret.

“Your handiwork is evident,” Seshalla said to her.

“It is good to see you again as well,” Nalsyrra hissed.

“Thank you, Nalsyrra,” Harmulkot told her. “Your help has aided us as promised.”

High Priest Artorio said, “We did as you requested, Sir Varenni.”

“I’m grateful.” Breskaro handed him a bag filled with gold coins from the Mûlkran treasury, such as it was. “This is payment for keeping my daughter alive.”

“We need no payment,” Artorio replied. “We did it out of love.”

“Then use it to further your care for all that come here.”

“You shall have,” said Seshalla, “full access to the libraries of Issaly for further research. Those who worship Keshomae are welcome in
my
city.”

“And the same goes for Mûlkra,” added Harmulkot. “And do not look so shocked. We are not evil as you have been led to believe. Our manners are different, but so too is our knowledge. There is much you might learn from us.”

“Perhaps so, Lady Harmulkot,” said Artorio apprehensively.

Breskaro took the grimoire from his backpack and held it out to Nalsyrra. She shook her head.

“You keep it. I have it memorized.”

“You can hold all this in your head?”

“And more besides.”

“Nalsyrra knows more of sorcery than anyone,” Harmulkot said. “More even than I did in my prime. A rumor once went around that she had invented it.”

“The Star Spirits invented sorcery,” Nalsyrra replied.

They entered the convalescence ward and went to Orisala’s room. Her eyes teared upon seeing Breskaro walk in. And when she spotted Kedimius, she managed a twitch of a smile. 

“I have returned as promised,” Breskaro said. “I look worse for the wear, I know. For a while I looked better, if you can imagine that.”

Kedimius took up her hand and kissed it. “Orisala, I don’t know why you left or what happened, but I am here for you. If you will take me again, I am
yours
. I will do
anything
you ask of me. I am pledged to Seshalla no longer. I am pledged only to
you
.”

Orisala smiled at him but then she spotted Nalsyrra and became alarmed, her eyes growing large and darting around the room. 

Kedimius looked to Nalsyrra, and she replied, “My appearance frightens her, I’m afraid. This happened before when I first visited her.”

“Are we ready?” Breskaro asked.

Harmulkot bent over Orisala and met her eye-to-eye. “I am the goddess Harmulkot. We are related, you and I. You are my many times great-granddaughter. My last living descendent.”

Orisala studied the face of the ghost goddess but, surprisingly, didn’t seem afraid of her.

“I am not as bad as you may have heard. Most of what has been done in my name in the last several centuries was not done with my influence or approval. I have been bound away from the world.”

Breskaro kissed Orisala on the forehead. “Sleep, my dear. When you wake, you will be healed.” He cast the
spell of somnolence
and her eyes closed.

Harmulkot ghosted onto Breskaro so that she could operate the Akythiri Mechanism through him. 

Kedimius, Seshalla, and Nalsyrra backed up to watch. Breskaro allowed Harmulkot to control his body and bond with the mechanism. He didn’t like it, but there was no other way. She chanted and his hands, under her direction, swept over Orisala. The device hummed as waves of energy pulsed from Breskaro’s palms. Thousands of energy particles penetrated deep into Orisala, repairing the damaged nerves and vertebrae along her spine. 

The machine grew hot and started belching puffs of smoke. But Harmulkot continued, guiding the energies into healing organ and tendon damage and rebuilding atrophied muscles. Orisala’s skin glistened with sweat, and occasionally she would twitch, but still she slept.

The birthmark on Orisala’s chest darkened. The energies pulsing from Breskaro’s hands intensified.

“
Orisala is now healed
,” Seshalla said into Breskaro’s mind. 

“
She’s not stopping
.”

“
Harmulkot has begun her gambit. She has likely found some way to break the curse and take a new host. We must stop the procedure.
”