Keys of Candor: Trilogy

by Casey Eanes

  Seam blinked, trying to understand what Abtren was saying. “What about Nyx? Bastion?”

  “Bastion is dead, and Nyx...well Nyx has chosen her side of this war.”

  Seam nodded. He did not need to ask to know that Nyx had allied herself with Isphet. “What makes you think that I would ally with you, Abtren?”

  “Because I come to you bearing knowledge. Knowledge that I know you greatly desire.”

  “Go on.” Seam’s body surged with a new energy, and he felt his mouth salivate uncontrollably at Abtren’s words.

  “There is but one way to defeat them, Seam, but before I explain anything you have to understand what I now know. You have to taste what true power feels like, only so you can understand the truth.”

  Seam chuckled and shook his head. “The truth? What truth could come from you?” Seam sneered, “I know much more than before, Abtren. I know that you and your kin are not divine. You are not the Celestials that my ancestors labored on and on about in the weekly temple meetings. You are nothing more than some cast aside automaton to fulfill a desperate race’s desires.”

  Abtren’s lips curled into a face resembling a wolf’s. “I am much more than you know,” she growled. A claw grew on her hand and she ripped it through her wrist. Black blood erupted in the moonlight, and she flung her wrist to Seam’s mouth. “You must drink to understand what I speak of, young king. Drink so you can never unsee the truth of what we fight against.”

  Seam pulled back, his initial reaction one of utter appalment, but the smell of the blood ricocheted in his nose like the deep earthy flavor of wine. His stomach roared with new life and his mouth opened. He fought the undesirable lust that throbbed within him to drink from the fresh wound before him.

  “Do it now! There isn’t much time.”

  He plunged his mouth over the bloodletting from Abtren’s wrist, and suddenly, he was gone.

  “Are you ready, Kull?” Wael stood in the open door of Ewing’s empty apartment. The light of the hallway made a silhouette of the monk’s massive frame, hiding his expression from Kull’s view. “We just got word from Adley and Ewing. They are with Willyn now.”

  Kull slipped to the edge of the cot he had been resting on and rubbed at his aching head. He stood and nodded. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

  Wael shifted and placed his hand on Kull’s shoulder to stop him as he approached the exit. “I know it won’t be easy to return home, but Rot and I will be by your side.”

  The room sat in silence as Kull swallowed and rubbed at his temples. He squinted and drew in a deep breath. “I will be okay, Wael. I promise.” Kull patted Wael on the back and feigned a smile. “Seeing my burned down house is the least of my worries now.”

  Kull stepped over the threshold and turned to descend the stairwell at the end of the narrow hallway. He stopped and turned back. His eyes were set with a steely determination as he looked up at Wael.

  “Wait. I need to soul stretch...one last time.”

  “What do you mean we don’t have coordinates?” Cyric grumbled into his datalink as his jeep cruised down one of Elum’s abandoned highways. “I’ve kept my end of the bargain and have everything I could muster and we don’t have coordinates? What have you been doing?”

  The datalink growled with static before Adley’s voice cracked back over the line. “I have been gathering an army Cyric, that’s what I have been doing.”

  Cyric let out a sarcastic laugh and hammered his fist into the steering wheel. “What army?! A bunch of Lottian scrubs?”

  The line sat quiet for a moment before a new voice joined the conversation. “The men and women of the Groganlands stand ready...mercenary. Our combined forces stand 16,000 strong, all trained and ready with the best of our equipment. Now, can you confirm your contribution?”

  Cyric blinked, momentarily speechless, swerving the jeep to avoid careening off the broken-down road. “Um. Yeah,” Cyric stammered as he tried to place the voice on the datalink. “I have a cargo trailer full of pred tech weaponry and, uh, working my way to a functional Elumite military installment.”

  “Don’t bother trekking that far south. We need you here as soon as possible,” Adley said. “We have already contacted the Elumite military and they are scrambling to our position as we speak. We just need you and your technology.”

  “Well, I still need coordinates,” Cyric grumbled. “What good are we gonna do sitting in the middle of a field?”

  “Just get here, Cyric. We need to take inventory of what we have and then we will move. Don’t worry, Isphet’s trail will not go cold. We aren’t doing this for nothing.”

  “We better not be,” Cyric grumbled as he switched off his datalink and cursed beneath his breath, hammering his fist against his jeep’s steering wheel.

  “Focus, Kull. Breathe and focus.” Wael’s voice was firm as he sat in the lotus position facing Kull. “Do you know your purpose in stretching? Do you know what you seek?”

  Kull drew in a deep breath and slowly exhaled. He nodded. “Yes. I know who I seek.”

  Wael placed the tips of his fingers against Kull’s temple and closed his eyes, trying to focus and find Kull in the darkness that slowly enveloped them. The sound of rushing water surrounded them and crescendoed into a roar, only to fall into an immediate silence. Kull drew in another breath and opened his eyes, finding himself in the familiar inky void. He could feel his heart race as he remembered Ma’et’s last attack. Is he here? Where is he?

  Kull shook his head and pinched his eyes closed. Focus. Kull spoke to himself but could almost hear Wael echoing the same reminder.

  Focus. Kull focused in on the silence and on his target. Kull drove his consciousness deeper, searching for his mark when he heard Wael’s voice call out like a whisper that barely danced across his ear. “Call him.”

  The thought of finding his mark was appalling, but Kull knew he had no other option. He had to find him; everything hinged on this search. Kull drew in a deep breath and exhaled one more time before calling out in the void.

  “Seam.” Kull could barely hear the word escape his lips so he focused and called louder, and then louder once again. Kull stepped through the void, calling out and praying silently that Ma’et would not hear his intrusion and that he would find Seam in this place, somehow.

  Kull felt a vibration beneath his feet and the shimmering floor undulated as new noise intruded on the void. Soon Kull could hear panting and heavy breathing. The hair on his neck flared, but his nerves settled as he realized that this was different. This was not Ma’et. Kull could almost make out the sound of feet running, but there was no one in that space with him. The black nothingness was alive with sound and energy, but there was still no visible sign of Seam. Kull knew he was close, but fought back the terrible thought that what he was about to do would alert Ma’et of his presence.

  “Seam!” Kull cried out. As the word escaped his lips a fresh wind blew over him and an inky black figure appeared in view, spinning on its heels. Its arm was transformed into the shape of a blade that it swung in his direction.

  “I told you to leave my mind, Dyrn!” Seam’s voice called out from the figure. “I said leave me! I swear to all the gods, I will kill you in the end!” he screamed.

  “Seam,” Kull said calmly. “It is Kull Shepherd of Cotswold. Can you hear me?”

  The undulating figure stepped closer and crystallized into a solid shape as it neared Kull. The faceless black humanoid figure tilted its head as if trying to focus on Kull, but there were no features, no true vision of his enemy.

  “Where are you?” Kull called. “We need to meet.”

  “Yes...” Seam chuckled. “Yes, we do.” The veil between them was pierced, and Kull now saw Seam’s face take shape, becoming more defined. Soon two eyes pierced through the rift, their color a bright crimson. Kull recoiled, stumbling back into the darkness. The Key around Kull’s neck began to glow and radiate with white light. Kull could read Seam’s lust for the Key from the gleam in his demonic eye
s. “You have something for me, don’t you, Shepherd?”

  The temperature plummeted, and Kull’s skin became ice cold as Seam’s half-formed figure reached forward, grasping for Aleph’s Key alight in starshine. As Seam pressed forward the familiar rush of wind and hot breath collapsed into the void.

  Kull mind screamed at the intrusion. Ma’et! He’s here too! Kull slammed his eyes shut and turned to run from Seam. “Wael!” Kull screamed at the top of his lungs. “Wael! Help!”

  “The monk?” Kull could hear Seam ask as he clamored for an exit within the void, trying to find a way to exit the soul stretch.

  “Wael, please!” Kull cried out when he felt a hand grasp his face. Kull slammed his fist against the hand and pushed it away as he cried out for Wael.

  “Kull! Come to me!” Wael’s voice called out, but it was growing more and more distant. “Focus!”

  Kull slammed into a wall and fell backward, realizing it was no wall at all. Instead he had run into the epic coils of the serpent. The snake’s body pressed in around him like quicksand, choking out everything but the darkness. Kull surrendered, going limp in the painful coils, but trying to focus and find Wael’s voice to escape one last time. Wael...help! The pain was excruciating, as if every bone in Kull’s body was being simultaneously snapped and disjointed under the mass of the monster that roared around him.

  “There is no escaping me, little essence,” Ma’et roared. “Soon I will be unlocked from this place, and I will find you and render the justice due to me!”

  “Come to me.” Kull could hear Wael’s voice, barely audible over the sound of Ma’et’s insults. Kull felt a hand once again, right at his fingertips. His strength was fading and his focus was slipping as each added ounce of pressure made thinking nearly impossible. Kull focused and found the hand, grasping it and calling out Wael’s name. As he took the hand, he felt the rushing of a wind like that of a hurricane pressing in around him, pushing back the monster’s cursed coils and lifting him into a bright light.

  Kull fell to the floor gasping for breath, scraping his fingernails through the soft pine floor. He scrambled and gasped, grabbing at Wael’s cloak. Rot rushed to Kull, licking at his face and nuzzling against him. Kull panted and sobbed, calling for Wael, the shadows of the serpent’s pain still roaring over his body.

  There was no sound from the Mastermonk.

  Kull’s heart hammered in his chest as he forced himself up. Wael lay on his back, his face and features sallow.

  “Wael?” A rush of horror broke over Kull as his hands flew to his mentor’s side, only to learn the horrible truth.

  Kull cradled his knees against his chest and sucked in a deep breath, rocking in place, his hands shaking. Earthshattering sobs rolled from him as Kull learned the depth of Ma’et’s attack on him. Wael was gone.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Seam’s blood-red eyes streamed with tears as he sprinted unblinking like a madman toward Riht. His body moved like a locomotive, each muscle moving with piston-like precision. He laughed at himself, cursing at all the time he had wasted. Blood. Had he known that it took only blood to unlock this wellspring of agility he would have drank deep from the cup long ago.

  No matter. Abtren has shown me the way.

  His stamina was unlike anything he had ever experienced, second only to the incredible ecstasy of bearing all the Keys of Candor. I was a fool, Seam thought as his body rushed past the barren scenery.

  The Keys were deceptive, he thought to himself. They filled your mind with visions of grandeur while keeping you blind to the threats that wanted to devour you. But the blood…

  Drinking Abtren’s blood had not only brought renewed inhuman strength. It had brought true insight. Now he knew the secret.

  “There is another Key,” Seam whispered. His words were low and barely bridled by the desire that roared within him. You have something for me, don’t you, Shepherd? Kull Shepherd, the boy who had eluded the expulsion of his own soul had resurfaced from death carrying a sixth and final Key. A Sovereign Key, Seam thought, his heart slamming into his chest with anticipation. The Key of Aleph, himself.

  “Seam!” Abtren’s voice pierced through the seductive daydream. “Stay alert. We are approaching Dyrn’s Warren.”

  Seam nodded, allowing his mind to come back into the reality around him. A bleak horizon of sand dunes stretched as far as he could see. There, nestled within the mountain-like dunes, stood a lone sandstone pillar. The dark obelisk scraped against the bold blue sky, its point sharp, a staggering feat of ancient engineering. A relic from a distant age, it still took Seam’s breath away. He had seen it before, of course, when he had left Dyrn’s quarters with his orders etched unmercifully in his mind. He had not paid much attention to it then, but now something stirred deep within him. I have seen this...this before. He took a step forward only to be blinded by the hot desert sun reflecting over the obelisk’s surface. The light scattered across the dunes, and Seam saw the broken reflection of his own face. A fractured mosaic of mirrors was spread across the obelisk’s base. His eyes widened as a memory from his past erupted within his mind.

  My past? No.

  He blinked as dark memory came into view in milliseconds.

  Hosp raised a serrated knife over the girl, only to bring it down, the girl’s scream erupting through the night. Again and again the blade danced in the firelight until the bloodcurdling scream became a muted whimper. Then nothing.

  A recognizable dark voice filled the crisp night air, accompanied by the sounds of bones rattling. The Rihtians stood in the firelight, a mob of unwilling participants in the ancient ritual. Their eyes shone like the eyes of livestock awaiting a dreaded fate. “From death comes life!”

  Dyrn. Yes, I saw Dyrn first here...with Hosp.

  “Seam.” Abtren’s kaleidoscopic eyes cut again through his thoughts, snapping him out of the fog of memory.

  Seam blinked and recoiled at his own face. His reflection was broken into a twisted collage that littered the ancient stonework in a chaotic, swirling pattern.

  “You must ready yourself for what is coming. Dyrn will not be easily conquered by even us. He has no doubt prepared for this. Be ready.”

  Seam nodded as he followed Abtren around the tall monolithic shadow of the obelisk. Abtren leaned, her undulating eyes reading patterns that remained unseen to Seam.

  “What are you looking for?” Seam asked, growing impatient at Abtren’s silence.

  Abtren glanced up, her beautiful face showcasing her annoyance. “The Warren...it has moved.” She ran her hands through her hair and stared out at the long shadow that the obelisk cast over the desert plains.

  “You mean Dyrn’s lair has moved from beneath the sands?”

  Abtren nodded, her face sullen. “He and his kind are bound to these...towers.” She glanced up at the obelisk. “They emit some kind of power, or generate it at least. They are necessary for Dyrn’s continual regeneration.”

  Seam said nothing but instantly put the pieces together in his mind. Dyrn had sent him out as his hunter because he could not go out on his own. “So, you are telling me that Dyrn is locked here deep within the desert?”

  “Exactly,” Abtren answered. “The actual Warren, however...it moves beneath the dunes, though it is never too far from the obelisk.” She scanned the desert waves, examining for the tell-tale sign of Dyrn’s chamber.

  “There,” she pointed. About one-hundred meters away was a shallow dip, a valley that was nearly concealed beneath the dunes.

  “The hatch will be there…” Abtren whispered. She glanced over at him. “Are you ready for this?”

  Seam’s hand morphed into a razor-sharp axe, and his face bore a mask of hate. “Yes. I plan to enjoy it.”

  Abtren nodded and walked slowly toward the dip in the sand. “Be ready for anything. You of all people know how cunning he is.”

  Seam nodded, following Abtren’s lead.

  The small dip in the horizon soon revealed a cave-like entrance that le
d down toward a tall, circular metallic door. The enclosure was unnaturally cold, and Seam saw his breath cloud before him.

  Seam and Abtren entered through the large metallic gate that stood open, as if Dyrn were inviting them in for an afternoon tea. Seam nodded for the staircase and motioned for Abtren to lead the way. “I need to keep you in my sight at all times. You lead,” Seam demanded as he pointed forward.

  “I am the least of your worries here, Seam,” Abtren warned. She brushed past him and stepped lightly down the metal staircase. The frigid air left a slippery condensation on the stairs and walls that increased as the two moved deeper into Dyrn’s Warren. They soon approached the large, open threshold. Abtren crossed first, followed by Seam.

  Seam’s heart slammed in his chest. The room was pitch black in an inky void that Seam’s eyes could not penetrate. Abtren was somewhere in front of him. He pricked his ears, desperate for what lay ahead.

  “Abtren?”

  “No.” Abtren’s voice was shaky in the dark. “Run!”

  The doors leading back to the staircase slammed shut as Seam started to turn back. Bright lights clapped on, blinding Seam as he attempted to shield his face. The tactic worked momentarily as Seam could feel his mind pulling him back to memories of Dyrn’s operating table. A static energy rushed over him as he thought back to his recent torture, but he flushed the thoughts from his mind. Focus.

  He squinted into the lights, struggling to find Dyrn amidst the distraction.

  “Where are you, Dyrn?” Seam shouted. “Show yourself, you coward. Quit playing games with us!”

  A chuckle came through a set of speakers as Dyrn broke his silence. “This is a game, Seam Panderean. You are quite right. A game of kings; winner takes all. This is humanity’s never-ending story. The story of the boot crushing over those who are weak. Those who are destined to live under it. The sacred dance of survival of the fittest; it all hangs in the balance. So, you’ve come to seek justice on me? After all I’ve done to resurrect you? Your gratitude is incredible, Seam. It is you who should be punished! Isphet is now allied with Nyx, the one Serub I sent you to kill. Lotte’s power is in tatters, ripe for Isphet’s picking, and now you’ve come to destroy me with Abtren the Defiler. What a waste. I won’t have you squander my newfound opportunity to right your wrongs.”