by Jesse Teller
“I’m not sure.”
“Are you going alone?”
“Tate is coming. Maybe Burke and Arcturus, I’m not sure. I will give them the option.”
“You will be safe if Tate is with you,” Ithyryyn said. “You will have your circlet, but if you are in a world we cannot come to, we will not be able to feel if you need help.” Ithyryyn shook his head and kneaded his fingertips into his forehead. “It is a bad idea to go to a place where we cannot find you. We are stronger when we can back each other up.”
“I know.”
“Are you going to Heaven to find your father?” Ithyryyn asked.
The idea was so ludicrous that it struck Roth dumb. He wrapped his mind around the question and realized it was not flawed. If opening a portal to Hell was possible, then a gate to Heaven was not impossible.
“Make me a promise,” Ithyryyn said.
Roth stammered, but the words didn’t even make sense to him.
“Take the journal, go make the modification and ready your rings for travel to this new world. I will not go with you and I will not stop you. This is obviously a thing you want to do with your brother. But if you want me to keep this secret, you must swear that when you get back, you will adjust our rings and make them capable of the same travel. I don’t have to know where you are going. But when you get back, you have to give me a way of going there myself.”
“You may not want to go.”
“That is not the point,” Ithyryyn said. “This college is not about me traveling where you have been. It is about sharing power with the ones we trust. It is about the comingling of power. If you can go there, then I have a right to go there, too. It is the foundation this Collective is built on, and it is our only law. You will obey it or reap the consequences.”
Roth laughed but Ithyryyn didn’t laugh back.
“What consequences?”
“If you use our resources to gain power you are unwilling to share, then you will be cast out.”
“I was raised by Gale. You are the only true family I have. You would not kick me out.”
Ithyryyn lifted a finger and held it before his face. He spoke a word and his fingertip glowed. His face was suddenly engulfed in light, the edges of his face cast in shadow, blue eyes cold and intense.
“If Thrak committed this sin, I would toss him out myself, and he is my brother by blood. It is our only law. Teach what you learn.”
The words ran through Roth like a shot of ice.
“On my honor, Ithyryyn, I will adjust everyone’s rings when we return.”
Roth slept scant hours for the next two weeks. Study and spell craft, the modifying of spells and the casting of them, that was all he did. Ithyryyn gave more and more books to them, leaving stacks at a time in Sorrow Watch for them to read. When the spells had been cast, Tate had begun the gem cutting.
Of the two brothers, Tate had the steadier hands.
The cutting had gone on for but a few brief moments and it was done.
When Tate had finished them both, he slid his ring on and stared at it. He slowly clenched his hand into a fist and closed his eyes, smiling.
The argument with Arcturus had been long and labored. Burke was coming. And though his bodyguard did not approve, the prince’s mind did not waver.
They stood in the Scribe’s Tower basement, deep in the late watches of night, waiting. The room was filled with old crates of paper and ink. It housed rats and something that had died, and it held within its pores the faint scent of wonder. The room itself seemed to hold its breath.
Roth could feel Tate’s apprehension palpable in the air. He reached out and took his brother’s hand in the dark.
Tate steadied, and as one, they summoned the power of their rings, and as they had done hundreds of times before, they ripped a hole in the world. Beyond was a world of nothing, Purgatory, a land devoid of any markings or features at all. They stepped within and Arcturus laughed.
“This is nothing as legend foretold. This was supposed to be a nightmare beyond comprehension. This is a joke.”
“This is not Hell, warrior,” Tate snapped. “This is.”
As one, they waved their hands. A superheated gust of air slammed into them. The stink of boiling rot hit their noses and Roth gagged. He fought to keep his feet as he stared. Bones of all types spread out before them, a sea of bones with mound-like waves. Bones of all shapes and sizes, impossible for the mind to grasp, bones broken to dust or still wet and dripping. The sky beyond was the yellow color of an old bruise, and in the distance, a wickedly shaped tower that looked more like a weapon than a building at all.
“Welcome to the Land of Torment and Loss,” Tate said. He laughed and Roth did not like the way it sounded, as if the laugh was a bladed thing slicing into the meat of the air.
Roth stepped forward and the rest followed.
It took every bit of power Roth had not to weep when he closed the portal behind him.
The Candle Tower
Rayph dropped onto the upper balcony of the Candle Tower and looked out over the streets beyond. Across the street stood the Hive, the one-time lair of the king’s late uncle and his mercenary band. It brought pain and indecision to Rayph. He fought to pull his eyes away but could not. He saw the massive statue in the fountain outside of the manor house and turned away.
He had been there recently. He was in no hurry to go back. He went to the door of the tower and reached for the handle, when it was ripped open. Saykobar stepped out directly in Rayph’s path. He did not slow or stop, and Rayph was made to step out of his way.
Saykobar was in his late twenties and filled with violence and hate. His red hair glowed in the Candle Tower’s yellow light, and Rayph knew nothing good could come from this meeting. He followed the wizard to the railing and looked out over the city.
“Why are you here?” Rayph asked.
“No,” the man began. He spun, pointing his finger at Rayph. “My tower. I ask the questions.”
“This tower belongs to Collette and Trevonne. I gave it over to their keeping. I did not confirm any other master.”
“You have been gone a long time. This tower has three masters now, me principal among them. You come here, you answer to me,” Saykobar said. “I am the power in this city.”
“Maybe you have heard that Brody Bedlam is in Dragonsbane. That he has taken over its streets and has crushed anything rising up against him. He is the one in power here, not you.”
“Bedlam is too small to affect me. He is a tiny nuisance.”
“You’re obviously insane,” Rayph said. He turned and walked away. Saykobar motioned with his hand and the door shut hard before Rayph.
“No one goes into my house without my leave.” Saykobar looked about to say something when an entity pulled in close. Rayph’s blood went cold. He gripped the railing of the tower for support. The presence was terrible and hateful. A vague horror hung in the sky above Dragonsbane.
It was immense, comprised of shaded edges, too dark to make out exactly what it was, but from its hand unwrapped a massive flaming cord, and with a flip of its wrist, the cord whipped down to wrap around Saykobar. The mage dropped to his knees and cried out in utter pain and torment. Rayph looked on with growing terror.
The monster above snarled and spat out deafening words that Rayph was sure would bring the tower to the ground. “This is a man you will not harm or stand in the path of,” the entity spat. She screamed at Saykobar and he cried out in terrible pain. “You will bow to him and aid him in any way he deems fit. You will serve and you will grovel.”
Rayph held his hands to his ears, blocking out none of the sound. He knew then that only he and Saykobar could hear this rant. This was not a power that could be easily perceived. In the streets, people walked past the tower with no regard. Rayph was being treated to this display. Saykobar’s body smoked and seared as the monster above screamed and Saykobar howled.
Rayph stepped forward and looked up at the thing in the sky.
“Mercy,” he said. “I beg mercy for this man.” The whip snapped back and the darkness pulled away to show a horrid image of a battle-crazed woman with snarling fangs, a flaming whip in one hand and spear in the other. Rayph searched his mind before he knew whom he addressed.
“Valkyrie, mighty Sentry and guardian of all goodness and light, look down on this wretch and seek the pity in your heart,” Rayph said. He bowed his head to the mighty demigoddess and waited her response.
“This is my vile dog!” she snapped. “He is the scourge that I terrorize the evil of the world with. Darkness like his can only truly be harnessed through slavery.”
Suddenly every question Rayph had about the Hoodsmen and their ways came to a startling clarity.
“Slavery is beneath you, mighty Sentry. It ends the same way as it began,” Rayph said.
“How is that, Ivoryfist?” the Sentry said.
“Slavery ends with struggle and wrath. You may hold this man now in your grasp and bend him to your will, but the day will come when his boot rests on your neck. Kill him or free him now and save yourself his hate.”
“Slavery of a beast is nothing shameful. Have you never owned a dog? You train them and beat them, for they are nothing but a beast to be used and commanded. This thing is too vile to be considered a man. He is a dog. He is my dog and he is trained well.” She cackled and smiled down at Rayph who looked up at her in fear and trepidation.
“You have changed since last I heard of you. This new path you walk is a dark one. Turn from it soon, mighty Sentry, and find peace in your heart once again.”
The entity jerked back her whip, and with a gust of wind, she was gone. Saykobar stayed the ground, mumbling to himself and readying his power. When he stood, he walked past Rayph and ripped the door open.
“Follow if you will, but expect no thank you from me. I do not reward those who beg for mercy, no matter the cause.”
Rayph followed. Stairs and echoing footsteps. A door and a banquet hall. Rayph was suddenly in a huge room dominated by a table with three heads. Saykobar took his seat in one of them. In the other two sat Trevonne and Collette.
“Rayph,” Trevonne said, jumping to her feet only to sit again. She thought better of the sitting and stood to bow on one knee.
Saykobar sneered but said nothing.
“What brings you to our tower? How may we aid you?” Trevonne said.
Trevonne and Collette looked older than their years, and Rayph decided ruling a tower alongside the likes of Saykobar had to be taking a toll.
“I need you to know I am in town and will be using your tower often.” Collette nodded and looked down. She seemed defeated, and Rayph’s heart went out to her. “My enemies will know of your help and will strive to crush you. This is a burden you will have to assume. For that I am sorry.”
Saykobar looked at Trevonne, then stood and crossed the room at Rayph. Rayph held his ground and Saykobar seemed about to reach out for him but thought the better of it. “You seek to bring Bedlam down on this tower? You think I’m going to just let that happen?”
“I have no other choice. I need allies. And you are three of the most powerful people in the city,” Rayph said. “This evil must be brought to its knees. No one is safe while Brody Bedlam roams free. He has the mayor in his pocket now. How can I not assume he will soon usurp her rank altogether and send her forces against me?”
“Your bland woman now controls the city guard,” Saykobar said. “You have set up in the mayor’s mansion right now. I fail to see why you are even here, to be honest,” Saykobar said.
“We have no choice, master, we must aid him,” a beautiful female voice said. Rayph turned just then to look at the rest of the table, a company of villains resting, waiting for food.
The woman who spoke was gorgeous in an odd way. Her body, toned and perfect, more a weapon aimed at the hearts of men than a body at all. She wore a black dress low cut in the front and exposing her body in a titillating way. The right half of her face was covered with meticulously combed hair, the left side bearing a red eye that gleamed with intelligence and guile. Her body was covered in a light coat of gleaming black fur, and she clicked perfectly manicured nails on the table.
“Revenge, it is nice to see you once more,” Rayph said.
“I am sure it is,” she said. She turned back to Saykobar, “Ivoryfist will command us should our mistress wish it. He will take what he wants and we will be unable to stop him. He is righteous, therefore he will hold sway over our group.”
Revenge extended her hand to the left and Rayph saw Demetri Clasta take it. His blond hair flew reckless around his head, and his dark blue eyes made him striking and terrible all at once. He had a heart of pure evil. Rayph could see that by the way he held his mouth and the way his eyes flared and seared everything around him. He possessed scars that seemed decorative and painful.
“You know Sabrar Maul. He speaks of you often, though not always well,” she said with a smile. Rayph looked down to see Sabrar sitting at the table with no plate before him, his fingers steepled under his chin. Rayph did not allow his face to curl in pain at the words she spoke. He reminded himself Sabrar was indeed vile and terrible in his own right, and he needed to not let himself think the wizard was his friend.
“I’m so sorry your old master Tyga is not here to greet you,” she said. “I know seeing him with us always brings you so much joy.”
Rayph could not look at the woman anymore. Her words cut too deeply. Rayph needed to get out of this room as soon as possible. He looked at the shadow seething in the corner of the room, and nodded to the massive man with the greatsword on his back. The nod was completely ignored. Rayph felt his blood go cold at the hard look of the eyes and the set of the stony jaw. Rayph looked at the one person at the table Revenge had not introduced, and he smiled at her. She smiled back, a welcoming loving smile, and Rayph decided she must be a friend of Collette’s.
“Do not look at her,” Revenge said. “She is above you. She is a thing of purity that you cannot attain.” Rayph looked up from the woman to see every Hoodsman staring at him with fire in their eyes.
“Demetri, see Cursed out of the room, please. Make her comfortable in my chambers and stand guard over her,” Saykobar said.
Cursed stood and Demetri followed. The woman stepped closer to Rayph and stopped directly before him. She reached up and touched his face where Giggles had left him scarred two years earlier, and she smiled. Rayph could see her own scars thin and well hidden but still apparent. They looked like lines drawn across her face, and Rayph decided a gifted hand had stitched them.
“You must see her again soon,” Cursed said. Rayph touched her hand gently and saw Demetri touch the handle of his wickedly curved sword.
“Who must I see again, my dear?” Rayph asked. The longer he stood in front of this woman, the more anger filled the room. He needed to get out soon.
“Your love. You must see her again soon. You have been away too long.”
Rayph grabbed the woman’s hand. “What do you know of my wife?”
Sabrar was chanting. Demetri’s blade cracked and hissed as it pressed against Rayph’s throat, and Revenge tapped a dart on the table.
“Let her go or I will release them,” Saykobar said. Rayph let the woman’s hand go and Demetri sneered.
“Is she in danger?” Rayph asked.
“No, Ivoryfist. You are. See her again soon and say goodbye.” Cursed walked away. A tolling of some dreadful bell of fear sounded off in Rayph’s heart.
When Cursed left the room, Rayph turned to Trevonne and Collette. He had had enough of the Hoodsmen. He needed to set his mind on other tasks.
“How many students do you teach here?” Rayph asked.
“There are but two left,” Collette said. “One is Eloam, but he is almost completed in his studies. The second one is Cirtstessa. She is just beginning. She is young, Rayph. You cannot use her in your plots and schemes.”
“Allow me to meet her,” Ray
ph said. Collette nodded and closed her eyes. Her lips moved in a spell and a slight chime could be heard outside the room.
“Tell me of Eloam,” Rayph said.
“He is,” Trevonne looked around as if fighting for the right words. Rayph scowled, knowing it would be bad news. “He is my student. He is a good man, but he runs with a dark mix of people.”
Rayph’s anger grew. He stepped forward. “How dark?” he growled.
“He dabbles in petty crime. Nothing major.”
Collette tried to turn her face away at the lie. Rayph knew better.
“Summon him now,” Rayph said. Trevonne started to say something before Eloam walked into the room.
Rayph knew him without introduction. The way the man walked, the way his eyes drank up every detail of the room, the cracking of the knuckles and the grin, all of it blended together to create a dark image of a criminal and a thug.
“What did we learn from Vrice?” Rayph said. He stepped closer to Trevonne, and Saykobar moved in the way. “Step aside or I will move you,” Rayph said. Saykobar’s face spasmed in sudden pain and he stepped away. Rayph glared at Trevonne. “Vrice was an evil bastard. I told you this tower cannot create darkness. This place was to be a haven of light.” Rayph turned to Eloam and shook his head. “This is what you are teaching? This is what is coming out of this tower?”
“Odd words for a man who counts Ty and Cable as friends,” Eloam said. Rayph clenched his fists and disappeared. He appeared in front of Eloam and struck him hard with his palms. Eloam flew back to slam against the wall. Rayph stood over him and waited for the man to move or speak. Eloam looked down, keeping his eyes on his belt. He sat up and shook his head.
“I don’t want to fight you, Rayph. I’m with you against Brody. I came to fetch you. My boss is ready to meet with you. I’m supposed to bring you to him.”
“Who is this boss of yours?” Rayph asked.
The man smiled when he said, “Silk, master of the Hood syndicate.”
Rayph turned to leave, when a slight glow entered the room. A child, little more, walked to Collette and bowed. Her hair was golden the way the sun’s light is golden. It seemed luminous and alive. It dropped in corded rows that danced slightly at its ends. It took Rayph a long time before he realized it was not hair at all, but tentacles.
