The Sin War Box Set: Birthright, Scales of the Serpent, and The Veiled Prophet (43 page)

He had demanded that the demonic essence pay heed only to him and now Uldyssian had been granted that demand. All he had to do now was survive…if possible.

But if he did not, then surely it would pursue Serenthia again. Uldyssian had to assume that, in its madness and outrage, the demon had somehow left some part of itself behind after it should have died. That part now evidently wanted Serenthia to replace its lost mate.

He had to end this. If Lucion, a powerful demon, had been unable to stop him, then surely Uldyssian could defeat this undead presence.

Again, he concentrated on the ruins. They seemed a distinct link to the demon. Forcing one foot forward after the other, Uldyssian tried not to notice how much closer the attacking fragments got despite his efforts…not even when one branch caught him over the brow, leaving a minute but telling trail of blood that he had to blink away while never losing sight of his own goal.

The ancient building shook anew, this time harder than ever. A portion of the right wall cracked off, sending what little remained of the roof into the trees. One of the windows lost all definition as portions of the border crumbled.

The voice shrieked in Uldyssian’s head. Something grasped his ankle, jarring Uldyssian’s attention despite his best efforts.

A fleshless hand—human-looking save for the fact that it had four digits and long, long nails—tore at his skin. Only then did it flash through Uldyssian’s mind that the male figure in the visions had had hands just so. A demon’s hands.

A second hand thrust out of the soil, this one still covered by a bit of ragged skin as pale as the bone. Uldyssian pulled away from the first, only to fall backward over some unseen obstacle.

Out of the ground burst a misshapen thing, the demon who was and was not dead. His bones were not bones as humans knew them, for they were segmented differently and what should have been the rib cage was solid. It amazed Uldyssian that this demon had bones at all—the hideous beast Gulag apparently having none—but his ilk seemed to come in a monstrous variety with no two alike.

The head tilted at one angle and the jaw hung slack. There was nothing handsome about the creature anymore, the carrion eaters—a centipede made a hasty retreat into an eye socket—still working after so long.

Then, to Uldyssian’s greater surprise, Mendeln—whom he had assumed had wisely stayed with the rest—stepped past him. There was an unsettling aura about his brother.

Mendeln stood before the macabre creature, arms spread wide. He shouted something in a language that Uldyssian did not understand…but suddenly realized was close in tone to what the demon had been spouting.

The ghoulish figure hesitated. Although the eyes were gone, he gave every indication of staring at Mendeln in something approaching surprise.

But if the demon radiated surprise, so, too, did Mendeln, who clearly expected something more to happen. He shouted out another word, one that, despite being unknown to Uldyssian, sent chills down the older brother’s spine.

This had more of an effect, but still clearly not quite what Mendeln had hoped for. The macabre figure teetered like a drunken fighter, then righted himself. The sense of menace grew, but also one of uncertainty, as if the demon was not quite sure what to do, either.

“He still lives…” murmured Mendeln more in fascination than anything. “No…he clings between life and death fueled by a desire for revenge…and a loss so great he still cannot accept it…”

Uldyssian did not care for the reason, only that they had to stop the fiend. Steeling himself, he glanced at the ruined structure yet again.

The walls cracked apart. The building let out a groan…and finally crumbled much as the temple in Toraja had.

But even then, the demon did not fall.

Uldyssian rose, but before he could prepare anything more, Mendeln put out a hand to stop him.

“Wait! See!”

Suddenly ignoring the intruders, the skeletal figure slowly turned toward the rubble. He raised his monstrous face skyward and let out a roar that Uldyssian recognized as deep anguish.

A small object shot up from near Uldyssian and Mendeln. It flew directly into one of the demon’s outstretched hands.

It was the shattered female face.

The demon held the sculpture up and the empty hand reached to caress the piece…and then, to the astonishment of the brothers, both simply faded away.

Expecting some trick, Uldyssian leapt forward. Yet he could now barely sense the demon’s presence. It was as if the creature had retreated beyond the mortal plane.

“He has gone back to that place between places,” Mendeln muttered. “It is over.”

“But why did it
begin
? What stirred that thing to life—or whatever you’d call that?”

His brother shrugged. “As I said. Vengeance…and loss.”

Uldyssian recalled the visions that he had had about the otherworldly couple, both so distinctively different from one another. A demon and…and an
angel
, perhaps?

But that was ridiculous. Uldyssian could not imagine a more unlikely scenario. He dismissed the notion, more concerned with another aspect of the situation. “Serenthia. She’s safe now, right?”

“It would seem so. You protected her well, brother.”

That reminded Uldyssian of something else. “Yes, and you protected me—”

“But not so well.”

Waving that aside, Uldyssian growled, “You know what I mean, Mendeln! I’ve been patient, but something’s touched you that has nothing to do with the gifts I’ve shown the rest! You’ve changed! Sometimes, I’m not even certain to whom I’m talking!”

The younger brother bowed his head. “Neither am I,” he whispered. “Neither am I.”

“We’ve got to have this out between us,” Uldyssian persisted. “I’ve got to know what’s happening to you…and how it might affect those with us. There are too many things at stake!”

“Yes…I agree.” Mendeln glanced back at the crushed building. “But not here. Not now. Tonight. When all others sleep.”

“Mendeln—”

Uldyssian’s brother raised his hands palm forward. Almost pleading, he added, “It
must
be in the night…and only the two of us.”

Mendeln clamped his mouth shut. Uldyssian knew that he would get no more out of him. Still, “Tonight, then. Tonight and no later. I mean that, Mendeln.”

The other nodded, then turned and walked back. Uldyssian stood for a moment, watching Mendeln’s retreating form. Then, without effort, someone else invaded his thoughts.

Serenthia
…

And with her gently smiling face burning into his mind, Uldyssian forgot about demon spirits and mysterious brothers. All that mattered was returning to the others and making certain that she was all right.

After that? Uldyssian could only pray that Achilios—wherever he was—would forgive his friend’s weakness.

As the sun settled over the horizon, the edyrem began to look for a place to camp. Mendeln, who had steered clear of his brother after the ruins, studied his many companions with an unusual anxiety. He lagged behind as they pushed toward the chosen location—a relatively clear area about ten minutes’ walk to the river—then paused by a trunk as if taking a breath.

They had found the crossing of which Serenthia had earlier claimed to have heard about from someone else. A convenient crossing it had been, wide enough to enable several people to simultaneously move to the other side. By the time he and Uldyssian had reached the others, more than a third had already made it, Serenthia apparently leading the way.

She had been most delighted to see Uldyssian, delighted enough to run into his arms. If not for Mendeln’s presence, he suspected that the embrace might have led to something more right there. The battle against the creature in the ruins had obviously changed Uldyssian’s mind about her and it seemed Serenthia had no more qualms concerning the late, lamented Achilios.

And that now bothered Mendeln more than the danger that they had this day faced.

The last vestiges of daylight had given way to the torches and—more and more—glow lights many of the fledgling edyrem were now able to cast. Some of those Mendeln watched looked much too confident with their minor success; a glow light would scarcely fend off Peace Warders, morlu, or demons.

At last his opportunity came. All eyes were focused on other matters and Uldyssian could only see Serenthia. Mendeln slowly backed into the jungle.

He went headed not toward the river, but rather back along their trail. Despite his heightening anxiety, Mendeln’s breathing remained calm. It was as if he were two men in one body, the newcomer adapting to whatever change around him as necessary.

Mendeln counted each step. Twenty. Fifty. A hundred…

At precisely that many, the figure he had been expecting to meet appeared from around a tree as if by magic…which very likely was the case.

“Always…timely…Mendeln…” The voice, so familiar, carried with it now a raspiness, as if the other constantly needed to clear something from his throat.

Mendeln suspected that what needed to be cleared out was
dirt
.

“I promised I would meet you at the appointed time…Achilios.”

A short, harsh chuckle escaped the half-seen figure. The archer took a step closer.

Mendeln did not gasp, having done enough of that the first time he had been confronted by the dead man. After all, before him stood his good friend, even if that friend had a gaping hole in his throat, the edges of which were lined with congealed blood and more dirt. Uldyssian’s brother did not bother to wonder how the blond hunter could even speak, considering that awful gap. Achilios existed now because of some force beyond mortal ken, a force surely powerful enough to give voice to the cold corpse it had animated.

But that description seemed cruel to Achilios, Mendeln suddenly decided. Achilios was no shambling ghoul nor a fiend like the morlu. The spark that was the archer did indeed still make house in his remains; there was no doubting that. True, the flesh was as pale as the whites of Achilios’s eyes—which were
completely
white now—and there always seemed to be bits of fresh ground spilled over him, but it was still the man the sons of Diomedes had always known. Achilios even showed embarrassment over his condition; even now he tried to wipe his hand clean so that he could clasp Mendeln’s.

Rather than let the archer continue a useless task, the black-clad figure reached out and seized the grimy hand. He shook it as he would have if both were still back home and nothing had changed for either. Not even death.

The shadow of a smile escaped Achilios. Even in his present state, he was a handsome man, lean like the prey he had so successfully hunted…until Lucion. Mendeln had always envied the blond hunter his looks, although the latter had never been vain about them. It had been the perversity of fate that he, who could have had so many women, had desired the only one who had not wanted him…until just before his slaughter. “Braver than…you used to…be…”

“You are my friend.”

“I am as dead as these tree dwellers I caught.” Achilios reached behind him and brought forth a brace of tailed beasts the size of cats and obviously related to them. He set his catch by Mendeln.

The scene both amused and saddened Uldyssian’s brother. Even in the state that he was, Achilios could not keep from his calling. Perhaps, Uldyssian’s brother thought, it was because it allowed him to play at his former life, to pretend that terrible events had never happened.

“And how may I explain this bounty when I return?” Mendeln gently joked. “All know my prowess with hunting. I am fortunate if I can catch a mushroom, as quick and cunning as they are.”

Achilios grimaced. “I…thought of…that…but…I hunted, anyway…”

Again, he attempted to brush himself clean. Yet, although even in the dark Mendeln could see the dirt fly from the archer’s pants, boots, and shirt…it almost immediately seemed to be replaced by more simply forming from nothing on Achilios’s very body.

“I have spoken with Uldyssian,” Mendeln finally interjected, as much to put an end to Achilios’s perpetually futile effort as it was to bring the conversation around to the matter at hand. Not the original conversation that they had planned, but the one he now felt superceded all others. “and I have come to a decision. It is time he was told of your presence. I will bring him out here to—”

“No.”

Mendeln had expected argument and while he respected his friend’s awful position, this was something that could not be avoided. “Uldyssian is your friend, just as I am. He will see beyond what has happened to you—”

The archer’s expression tightened, the white eyes narrowing dangerously. “No…Mendeln…it can’t…be that way…don’t say…any more…”

There was that in Achilios’s tone that suddenly made the hair on the back of Mendeln’s neck rise. Nevertheless, he grew defiant. “I will not keep this any longer from him—or Serenthia, for that matter! At the very least—”

“At the very least,” intoned another voice behind him. “Doing that might cause great catastrophe…”

Mendeln spun around. He knew that voice. It had haunted him long enough, after all…

The tall figure was clad in a dark, cowled cloak that emphasized a face nearly as pale as Achilios’s. At a glance, he otherwise looked like any man…save that his features were, despite their angular structure, far too perfect.

“Who
are
you?” Uldyssian’s brother demanded. “I know you, but not your name!”

The newcomer nodded. “Yes, we have come to know each other quite well, son of Diomedes…and I thus apologize for what I must do. Unfortunately, you leave me no choice.”

“What are you blathering about?” Mendeln backed away from the figure, only to collide with Achilios. Grimy fingers seized his arms, holding him in a literal death grip. “I say again! Who are you? Who?”

“A stubborn fool, that is what I am,” returned the other with a grimace. He raised a hand toward Mendeln.

In it was a dagger…a dagger that, to Mendeln’s eye, seemed not to have been forged from metal, but rather something akin to ivory.

Bone?

His tormentor uttered three short words and although Mendeln did not understand them, he still knew the language, of course. It now constantly flowed through his head.

The dagger flared bright, illuminating the cowled face yet more. It was as Mendeln always dreamed it, yet seeing it now, he saw just how
ancient
it was despite a general appearance little older looking than his own.

“As for a name, once I was called else by my mother, but now I am known as…
Rathma
.” He gave Mendeln an apologetic nod. “And now, we must be going.”

“Going? Where—”

But before Uldyssian’s sibling could finish, both he and the being called Rathma vanished.

Only Achilios remained, just as the archer had known would happen. He stared at his empty hands, empty of the man he had gripped, but not of the infernal dirt.

“Sorry…Mendeln…” he finally murmured to the empty jungle. With some reluctance, he took up his catch again. “It had…to be…done…”

Suddenly, a sound in the distance made him look toward the camp. Moving in utter silence, Achilios vanished into the dark. He could not let anyone see him, especially Uldyssian, whom he suspected was the approaching figure.

And even more than his old friend, he dared not let
her
know he was near…

Uldyssian stopped suddenly, aware that something was wrong. He had come in search of his brother, who had promised answers, and had been directed by one of his followers in this direction. Uldyssian had immediately sensed Mendeln’s nearness…and then the next moment had
not
.

At first, he wondered whether this was some trick of his sibling, some new ability. Uldyssian had no idea what sort of powers Mendeln had nor their cause. He recalled how Lucion had tried to make Mendeln seem like a demon himself or at least someone corrupted by one. Those memories haunted Uldyssian, for despite knowing better, he wondered whether there had been some truth to them after all.

Resuming his trek, Uldyssian finally located just where he had last sensed his brother. However, there was no trace that he could detect of Mendeln’s abrupt departure and that made Uldyssian worry even more. Mendeln was not the sort to play games, especially not of this type.

Unable to find his sibling through his abilities, Uldyssian resorted to a more basic approach. He called out Mendeln’s name, first as a whisper, then more pronounced when the initial attempt failed to garner results.

But still Mendeln did not appear.

Recalling the dangers of the jungle—both natural and otherwise—Uldyssian’s anxiousness grew. Yet, he noticed no hint of anything out of the ordinary.

Bending down, Uldyssian ran his fingers across the soft earth. At the same time, he finally summoned a sphere of soft blue light. Under its illumination, Uldyssian looked for any prints.

He found two that were certainly not his own. They seemed paused just a yard to his left. The stance seemed that of one person waiting for another…but then why was it facing
away
from the camp? Surely, Mendeln would have faced the other direction instead.

Then, another area just to the side of the first caught his eye. Only now did Uldyssian notice that the ground had been turned up as if someone had moved about much in a very short space. He could not tell with any certainty which way the feet had faced here, but the disturbance of the soil made him suspect that here was where something had gone amiss.

Here was where Mendeln had suddenly vanished from his brother’s supposedly superior senses.

Standing again, Uldyssian took a step deeper—

“Here you are!”

He glanced over his shoulder as Serenthia emerged from the jungle behind. With the light away from his face, she could not possibly see the brief look of consternation that he quickly buried. Mendeln had just disappeared; the last thing that Uldyssian wanted was to have the other person dearest to him in the vicinity. Who was to say that the same danger did not remain, waiting the chance to steal her now, too?

“Serenthia…what are you doing out here?”

“Looking for you, naturally.” She took hold of his arm, the pressure of her fingers sending his blood racing. “And I’m going to ask you the same question…this is no place to be alone.”

“I thought I heard something,” Uldyssian responded lamely. “I was wrong, I guess.”

She leaned close to him, staring into the wild. “You were afraid it was that—that demon—from across the river, weren’t you?”

He knew that he should not lie, but nonetheless, he answered, “Yes. I thought that.”

At first, that seemed to satisfy her, but then the merchant’s daughter suddenly asked, “Uldyssian, have you seen Mendeln?”

“Mendeln?”

“When I went looking for you, I also asked about him. I assumed that the two of you might be together.” Her grip tightened as she continued surveying their dark surroundings. “I thought…I thought I sensed him here…but I must’ve been wrong.”

Uldyssian smothered a curse. Of course, of all the others, Serenthia had come the closest to matching his abilities. Why would she not then be able to do as he? But the fact that she had gained that gift meant that it was harder—no,
impossible
, Uldyssian decided—to keep her from the truth.

He put his other hand on hers. “Serenthia…I did come out here looking for Mendeln. We were supposed to meet. He wanted to tell me about…about what he’s been having to deal with. The changes
he’s
been going through…”

She did not press him on those details, more concerned with the most immediate one. “Then, where
is
he?”

“I don’t know.”

Her fingers squeezed his arm with astonishing strength. Serenthia quickly looked left and right, as if Mendeln would suddenly appear. “But he has to be nearby! I was
right
when I thought I sensed him! You did, too, didn’t you?”