Mythborn (32 page)

Duncan planned to intercept his son before he came into contact with Lilyth, then get them out of this accursed land before it was too late. He took a breath, then stepped through. In a wink and a flash, he disappeared, leaving behind nothing but Vengeance standing like a statue honoring carnage and death.

The transition was sudden and cold, leaving afterimages spotting his vision. When Duncan opened his eyes, he saw dozens of armed elves clustered about. He looked around in confusion, fighting sudden vertigo, and realized he stood upon a platform of wood.

“Avalyon is breached!” someone yelled in a stentorian voice, the words sounding like a call to arms on the battlefield. Blue shapes moved along the edges of his vision at that, dangerous and quick.

What could only be a Galadine torc snapped around his neck, and for the second time in a few days he could feel his connection to the Way disappear. Along with it went his preternatural clarity of thought, and he found himself on his knees, not remembering when he’d collapsed.

Avalyon? What was he doing here?

He looked up, just in time to see an elf raise the butt of his spear. Then the end smacked him somewhere hard enough that his vision went black, accompanied by a sudden ringing that seemed to come from between his eyes. Mercifully, Duncan never felt the impact of the ground as it rushed up and hit him full in the face.

The Turning

Service in the benefit of your master

Is better than life itself.

-
          
Kensei Tsao, The Lens of Blades

C
ainan pointed to a dark ravine that cut through a line of hills, like someone had taken a knife and sliced the earth open in
aV
. “The Lady’s stronghold lies just beyond where that ravine opens.” He banked, following the ravine from the air, the straight dark chasm an easy guide to their ultimate destination, and perhaps some answers.

They had made their way from the island where they had appeared, flying in and around other floating lands. Some were small, no bigger than the Spring Festival square back home. Others were gigantic, as large as his own Meridian Isle. A quick thought about Jesyn and Tomas flitted through his mind. He wondered how his friends had fared since he’d departed. No doubt they would have tested by now, and perhaps be wearing the black robes of an Adept. A few days ago that would have filled him with jealousy. Now, he knew he was far more powerful than they would be, even as Adepts… and the sudden shock of how much had happened in such a short time hit him. Had just over a week passed since he’d last seen his friends?

Then his attention was drawn to one island as its shadow fell over them. It sat like a behemoth, so large that it made the many islands floating about, even the large ones, seem like small orbiting moons. He could not see the other side, but what he could see was both enormous and majestic. It grew like a wedge, wide and immense at the bottom, and slowly tapering up to a plateau that had a shining citadel on top. Nothing had prepared Arek for the sheer scale of the sight before him.

“Olympious,” Cainan said. “Is she not magnificent? A city made for the gods, for Lilyth is truly the eternal Eye of the Sun,” he added.

Arek had to admit that the land before him was unlike any other within view. The pyramid built upon the central part reminded him of the same one he saw under Bara’cor, but this one was immense.

The sun flared out from behind the structure, rendering it a black triangular monolith against the burnt orange sky. Arek squinted, shading his eyes, and looked down. Pointing, he said, “Land us there.”

“We have not yet achieved Olympious, my lord.”

“I know, but we need to talk before I present myself before the Lady.” Arek knew his request was reasonable for anyone who followed decorum, as these Aeris had demonstrated they did during their negotiations at the henge. He was pleased when the warrior tucked his wings and they plummeted downward, the sudden rush bringing a strange feeling to Arek’s stomach. It was, in a word, exhilarating.

As they neared the ground Cainan’s wings flared and they touched down softly in a small clearing at the top of one side of the ravine. The young adept took stock of his surroundings automatically, noting the gash that was the ravine ran straight and true to the pyramid in the distance, no more than half a morning’s walk. From the ground its true height could be gauged, and Arek had to admit Cainan was right, it was truly magnificent.

He didn’t waste any time, but immediately asked, “How did you and your men come across us so quickly?”

Cainan looked up, hands on knees, his eyes level with Arek’s in his half bent-over stance, “Forgive me, my lord, but for some reason I tire more quickly.” Recovering, he pushed himself erect and smiled, saying, “The Lady sent Furies to every henge within sight of her lands, and some even farther beyond. Your appearance where I guarded was the Lady’s blessing.”

The young adept looked around, then asked, “You’re known as Furies?”

“We are the arm of the Lady’s justice,” Cainan replied, “and hold the line against Sovereign or any other that threatens our world.”

Arek thought about that, cataloguing it automatically with half a dozen other facts that helped him paint a more complete picture of Lilyth and her people. He turned to Cainan and asked, “Those armored warriors who appeared at the henge. They were like you, but different. Who are they?”

“They are malcontents, choosing to side against the Lady. One I know goes by the name Orion. The other, by his armor, looked to be either Vulkan or Helios, though I could not be sure which.”

Arek thought about that, then asked, “What do they call themselves?”

At this the giant warrior laughed. “The ‘Watchers,’ an apt name for those who stand at the sidelines of battle. It is cowardice, for only possession provides us a life with choice. Had they stood with us, they would already know the taste of true power.”

“How do you know they haven’t possessed someone?” Arek asked, curious.

Cainan looked at him with a mix of confusion and annoyance. “If they had, they would no longer be here, but rather in Edyn in a mortal’s body.”

He understood Ascension, or at least he thought he did. Taking Adramelek had been a purer form of what he supposed all the adepts did. They possessed their bond brother and gained their powers. In a perverse way, they did exactly what they hoped to stop the demons from doing. It was an interesting interpretation that may explain the conflict between Edyn and this realm of Aeris.

Talking to Cainan had given him a new perspective, but he didn’t want to spend more time on this line of questioning and instead looked at the pyramid and asked, “You call the city Olympious. Is that where you live?”

Cainan nodded, his eyes seemed to drink in the sight like a man who had been too long from home. “Yes, the city eternal, home of the faithful.” He spent a moment more gazing, then changed subjects and addressed Arek directly. “The Lady will be pleased you have escaped from the highlord’s grasp, and I shall be amply rewarded.” He looked down, chagrin painting his posture in such a way that even Arek could tell he was ashamed. “I regret not saving your companion.”

Arek shook his head. “No fault of yours. He chose to go with Gabreyl, the elven commander.”

“Armsmark Gabreyl Galadine is well known to us, my lord.”

Arek’s ears pricked up at the name. “So he truly is a Galadine?”

“Aye,” the winged warrior replied, “born of the highlord’s blood, as are all the elves. The Galadines are a curse upon this land.” Cainan looked at Arek from beneath his open visor, clearly uncomfortable with something. “My lord, we cannot tarry here. It is not proper to make the Lady wait.”

Arek raised a hand. “I need to confer with someone first.” At the quizzical look he got from Cainan, the adept simply said, “Piter.”

The air next to Arek darkened and from the coalescing cloud stepped the dark apprentice who had been with the young adept from the very beginning. “My Master, command me.”

“You’ve said you’re sent by Lilyth. What then, can we expect upon our arrival?”

Before Piter could answer, Cainan cried, “Abomination!” He looked frantically at Arek and said, “He is a dark one—nephilim! We must slay him now!” The Aeris’s blade sang from its scabbard.

Arek turned to the clearly distraught warrior and said, “Hold your arm, Cainan! Piter and I are companions. I vouch for his—”

“You cannot vouch! Had we known the ones facing us at the henge were nephilim we would have never touched them. Woe to Elpenor, who had not enough sense to stay his hand before it was too late.”

Arek realized he was speaking about the Aeris who had waded in first and grabbed a dark elf, only to be turned himself. Then another thought struck him and he asked, “You can see Piter?”

Cainan didn’t say anything but moved forward, his single-minded focus with his blade answering Arek’s question as clearly as any words could. Arek quickly interceded with his body and said, “You will hold!” Blackfire detonated into being, flaring around the adept and hurling the Aeris Lord away like a leaf in a gust of wind.

Cainan fell onto his back, one arm outstretched in an ineffectual effort to ward off the dark shade and the blackfire at the same time. His eyes flicked back and forth between the two, finally coming to rest on Arek alone. “What are you?” he asked. It was clear from his open mouthed expression and the fear plain in his eyes that nothing had prepared him for this.

Arek pointed a finger and demanded again, “Can you see the person standing next to me?”

Cainan nodded, a rigid motion as his neck was held tight with terror. “All Aeris, whether Watcher or Fury, know of the dark ones. They must be slain. No mercy, no quarter.”

Arek looked at Piter and then back at Cainan, concern plain on his face. This situation was escalating, becoming dangerous. It needed to be defused quickly. He demanded Cainan’s attention by asking, “How did the Watchers find us at the henge? Will they appear here?”

Cainan stared at Piter, his eyes still wide. When he didn’t answer, Arek snapped, “Cainan!”

That startled the Aeris Lord, who turned to Arek and said, “I… the henge itself. When it was activated it would be a clarion call any Watcher within sight would answer.” He stopped, then said, “My lord, you
must
kill it! If you do not, everything it touches will be turned. Killing it will kill all it begat. I beg you, do not wait, for it is a pestilence amongst us.”

Piter moved forward and whispered to Arek, “What do you suggest we do now?”

Arek turned to Piter and said, “You can create more like you?”

The shade smiled. “Evidently.”

“Have you?” demanded Arek, his eyes never leaving Piter’s. He didn’t trust the creature he’d created, but like it or not he still thought of him as a companion.

“Master, without your leave? Never,” said the shade, a hurt look on his face.

“Then how do you explain the henge?” retorted Arek.

Piter started to say something, then a slow smile crept across his face. “I’m guilty… but it was only one elf. I
hungered
for it. You must know what I mean.”

“You bring death upon us,” cried Cainan. “Had I known the nephilim were your doing, I would have run my blade through you when I had the chance.”

Piter’s voice floated in his ear, “I guess
that
narrows your choices.”

Arek turned back to the fallen warrior who held his sword protectively across his body, and slowly knelt in front of him. “Do you believe the Lady doesn’t know my nature?” He tilted his head to the side, drinking in the fear this Aeris Lord emanated. It was like cool water to a parched throat. Piter was right. It would be so easy to drink his fill and satiate the hunger within.

“We need to make our way to Lilyth’s stronghold,” said Piter in a disinterested way. He looked at the pyramid and then back down at the form of Arek, kneeling in front of the prostrate Aeris Lord. “Get this over with.”

“What do you mean?” asked Arek, the edge of hunger in his voice balanced by the desire to control himself. He knew exactly what Piter meant, but didn’t want to say it. He needed the shade to give him a reason.

Piter obliged, giving him three: “Do we need him? He knows now what you are, and of my existence. Better we don’t leave loose tongues.”

Arek had come to the same conclusion, or perhaps his hunger had. He smiled at Cainan’s growing horror, then slowly reached out with a hand to grasp the man’s boot.

Cainan’s sword performed a quick arc, aiming directly for Arek’s neck, but it was not proof against the blackfire. Arek’s flameskin flashed and the blade was slag for a brief moment before it vaporized into a cloud of metallic steam. The Aeris Lord could only look dumbly at the melted half blade still in his hand.

Before Cainan could scream, Arek yanked him by his massive leg, his strength magnified, until the Aeris Lord’s head and neck lay beneath his hands. Cainan fought, striking with fist and elbows, but the adept controlled the flailing lord’s punches, moving into the strikes and locking his arms until he was only inches from the giant warrior’s face. For a moment, they just stared at each other, then Arek’s eyes became black liquid pools, sucking in the light.

The same blackfire that had made such short work of the sword now consumed the Aeris Lord, immolating him from the inside out. Everything that was Cainan became one with the fire, consuming until only a blackened body was left. That fire then flowed into the young adept, filling his form with an energy that felt like the sun itself shone from within him.

Arek stood, the energy of the Fury suffusing him with power. He breathed in deep and every part of his body sang with joy. It was better than Adramelek, better than the angel upon the door beneath Bara’cor, Dvarin. It was even better than that dark elf who dared touch him at the henge. It was better than
anything
.

Then something happened. His mind expanded, as though his view had somehow
shifted
. It was subtle, and Arek realized it wasn’t a physical thing, but instead an adjustment of his mental perspective. Absorbing the Aeris Lord had done something to him, altered his perception in such a way as to provide him some small part of what Cainan was. Interesting, for if true, this meant each victim added to his knowledge.

He thought back to the others he’d taken. Had he in some way used Piter’s knowledge to create his flameskin? The apprentice had created something similar at their fight at the library. He now remembered the faint ghostly image of the winged warrior and a name floated into the edge of his consciousness, Kaliban. Had he been an Aeris Lord like Cainan? What about the others? Arek realized he could not decipher what was his from before and what he knew now. In fact, had he not been paying attention, it was doubtful he would have realized the transference of Cainan’s awareness.