The Hunter turned and ran the last steps down to the ground floor. He ripped Soulhunger from its sheath and pressed the gemstone to the gemstone lock. As the door opened, he turned and hurled the dagger at Taiana, who had raced down the stairs behind him.
“Here! You want to find our child? Do it!”
She twisted aside, and the dagger clattered off the stone wall beside her head.
“For the sake of our child,” the Hunter snarled, “I will give you Thanal Eth’ Athaur to open the Chambers. But know this, I will not let you use the power of Enarium to feed the Devourer. If you try, I will put you down, just as I will do to the Sage.”
“Please, Drayvin, you don’t understand—”
“I understand enough.” A bitter taste filled his mouth. “You have your mission, and I have mine. Goodbye, Taiana. Do not get in my way. Nothing will stop me.”
He fled then.
“Drayvin!” Her cry echoed through the empty streets of Enarium, but he ignored it. If he stopped, if he listened to her, he knew he could not bring himself to do what needed to be done. He had crossed a world to find her, and now, for the sake of that same world, he had to leave her behind.
Tears streamed down his face as he raced down the streets of Enarium. He’d wanted to trust her—more than anything else, he’d wanted it—but he’d been a fool to believe he could. His years as an assassin had taught him the danger of trusting. Trust only ever earned a man a dagger in the back, often from the last person he expected.
At that moment, he needed to get as far away from her as he could. He needed to think.
He ran until his legs ached and his lungs burned, yet still he ran. He raced through the streets so fast the wind whipped at his long, black hair and pulled back his hood. Sweat streamed down his face, soaked into his tunic, dripped from his pumping arms. He ran until he reached the high stone wall surrounding Enarium. A short distance away, a staircase led from the street up to the top of the wall, and he pounded up it as fast as he dared.
Atop the wall, the view of the Empty Mountains surrounding the city was breathtaking. Hundreds of peaks rose as far as he could see, like the grey and red spines of a great beast. It was a harsh beauty, as rugged as it was barren, empty of human life.
The Hunter slumped to the hard stone, his back against the battlement, gasping for air. Chaos seethed like a tempest in his mind.
How could she? The very thought made him sick. How could she serve the god that caused so much death and destruction?
Such a strange thought, coming from him. For fifty years, he had earned a living by killing people. Not for noble ideals, religious beliefs, or even for the sake of saving someone else. No, he had killed for gold. For profit. For a comfortable life filled with whatever pleasures and luxuries he’d wanted. He had been a killer, never hesitating to spill blood. Before Voramis, he had been a soldier, a warrior, a conqueror.
How many had he killed over his long life? A thousand. Five thousand?
Hundreds of thousands had died during the War of Gods. Einan had been torn apart by the battle, the world scarred forever. Oceans had swallowed entire continents and rifts gouged deep into the bowels of the earth. He could never come close to matching the lives snuffed out at the hands of Kharna, the Destroyer, Devourer of Worlds.
The god Taiana served. “The one below us all”, she’d said.
She knew the truth of Kharna, yet still she served him.
I should have known. The thought raced through his mind over and over. I should have seen.
His first real memory of her had ended when she drove a dagger into his chest. She had been willing to sacrifice him for the sake of their child, so how much more was she willing to sacrifice for something else she believed in? Kharna had twisted her mind as he had so many others. Perhaps she truly believed that she did the right thing. She would do whatever it took, make whatever sacrifices were necessary, for that goal.
No, she wouldn’t sacrifice everything.
Taiana hadn’t been willing to give up their daughter. The search of the Keeps had been meant as a way to find more Bucelarii to fight the Elivasti, but he had seen the truth—a truth, at least—in her eyes: nothing mattered more to her than finding their daughter, not even service to Kharna.
Was a part of the woman he’d once known still in there, locked away in the mind the Devourer of Worlds had twisted to his own ends? Could he reach that part of her, find a way to drag it out and break Kharna’s hold on her mind?
He reached into his robes and drew out the faded silver pendant he’d taken from Bardin, the former Illusionist Cleric that had befriended him in Malandria. The Illusionist Clerics had used their rituals to erase his memory, to give him a clean slate, a chance at a new life free of the mistakes of his past. They could do the same to her. They could wipe away the hold Kharna had on her and bring back the Taiana he’d once loved. There was a risk they would erase too much, leaving her with no memories of what they’d once shared, but he’d take that risk.
But that would have to wait. Right now, he had more important matters to capture his attention. The Sage, Hailen, the power of Enarium. He glanced to the north, toward the pillar of swirling crimson dust that filled the sky. It had grown, darkened, like a storm cloud that sought to drown the world in blood.
The Er’hato Tashat would occur tomorrow at noon. That left him a little more than a day to free Hailen. Even if he had to take on the army of the Elivasti alone, without Soulhunger, so be it. Hailen was all that mattered now. He stood, and though the ache of sorrow in his stomach hadn’t lightened, he felt his determination renewed.
He had taken the first step to descend to the ground level, when something to the east caught his attention. He looked up, and in the same moment felt the humming beneath his feet intensify.
On Enarium’s Base Echelon, the Eastern Keep flared to life and a bright blue glow filled the air.
The Hunter’s gut tightened. Only one person could do that.
The Sage had activated the power of the Serenii.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The Hunter recalled Taiana’s words. “When the Keep is activated, it draws that magical energy out of its hosts. The draining will happen so quickly and with such force that it will suck all life from those within the Chambers. Not even the body of a Bucelarii could survive that.”
With effort, he pushed aside the image of living, breathing humans turned to charred corpses in the massive burst of power required to activate the Keep. If any Bucelarii had been in the tower, they were dead now.
And what of Jaia? The thought nearly brought him to his knees. Had his daughter, locked away by the Warmaster, been turned to ash as well? He ached to return to Taiana, to join her in the hunt for Jaia. Every instinct within him—the same instincts that had made him protect Farida, then Hailen—shrieked at him that nothing could be more important than finding his daughter.
Yet he could not sacrifice Hailen’s life or put Einan in jeopardy, not even for Jaia’s sake. He could only tell himself that freeing Hailen and killing the Sage before he activated the Keeps would be the best way to save his daughter. He had no idea where she was, if she was even still in the Chambers, but he had to cling to hope. Right now, he had little else to keep him going.
Hope, and a burning desire to open the Sage’s throat and watch the Abiarazi bleed out onto the white stone streets of Enarium.
Realization struck him. If the Sage activated the Keep, that means he has left the safety of Hellsgate. The chance existed that he’d killed one of his Blood Sentinels to use their blood, but the Sage was simply callous with human lives, not wasteful. He wouldn’t kill one of his loyal servants if a few drops of Hailen’s blood served his ends.
Hailen has to be there!
For the first time since arriving in Enarium, he had a clear idea where he could find the boy. The Sage would be surrounded by his Elivasti, but he was out in the open, vulnerable. The Hunter’s spirits soared, and he rushed down the stairs to the street
below.
The Northwest Keep rose on the Base Echelon off to his right. He raced northeast, circumnavigating the city’s lowest ring. His shoulders tightened with every step he drew closer to his target. The Sage would undoubtedly flood the area with Elivasti, many armed with Scorchslayers. There could be hundreds of purple-eyed warriors between him and Hailen. Caution and haste, like oil and water, made a poor combination.
Yet he couldn’t afford to go slow. If the Sage retreats into Hellsgate after activating the Keep, I can’t follow him. I’ve got to get to Hailen before the Sage flees or, worse, activates more towers. Not only for the boy’s sake, but for the Bucelarii in the Chambers of Sustenance—perhaps Jaia’s as well. And, the more towers the Sage activated, the closer he came to harnessing the power of Enarium.
The familiar sound of clattering armor and boots pounding on stone reached him, and he threw himself down a side street. He ducked into the shadow of a two-story white building just as a company of ten Elivasti appeared around a corner two streets ahead of him. He waited, heart thundering, teeth grinding in frustration, as they closed the distance to him. Two of them looked in his direction, and he shrank deeper into cover to evade their questing gazes.
Watcher take them! He could ill-afford the delay. Every moment spent hiding gave the Sage a chance to evade him. Yet he had to force himself to be slow, deliberate. He’d be useless to Hailen if he ended up locked in combat with an army of Elivasti, captured, or killed by a Scorchslayer.
He counted to thirty, then peered out from his hiding place. The last blue-armored warrior was disappearing down the main avenue that ringed Enarium’s Base Echelon. Instead of returning to the thoroughfare, he ran toward the narrower lane that ran parallel to the wall. If he ran into another patrol here, he could always double back toward the broad street.
Less than five minutes later, he caught a glimpse of blue armor up the road. This ten-man company wasn’t marching, but instead stood guard at the bottom of a stone staircase that climbed to the battlements of Enarium’s wall. A second company stood atop the wall, their purple eyes scanning in all directions.
Keeper’s teeth!
The Hunter let out a curse and ducked between two white-stone houses. The Elivasti on the wall would spot him on both the wall-side lane and the main avenue. He’d have to move slower and with greater caution, else risk being spotted.
Every moment of delay only increased his frustration. Were it not for those accursed Scorchslayers—them, and the knowledge that the Sage could retreat into Hellsgate at the first sign of danger—he would have torn them all to shreds. His steel long sword, the weapon he’d spent decades of his life training and fighting with, would carve a bloody path through anyone between him and Hailen.
Yet he knew a direct confrontation would only make matters worse right now. He’d risk a battle to get Hailen away from the Sage, but only after he’d gotten the boy safely out of the demon’s reach would he go on an Elivasti-hunting rampage. Hailen’s safety superseded all else.
He ground his teeth in frustration and forced himself to keep his pace slow. His eyes fixed on the glowing Eastern Keep. It was closest to Hellsgate, so a logical first stop for the Sage. But where will he go next, Southeastern or Northeastern Keep? Or, will he climb to the Medial Echelon to activate the Eastern Keep on that level? Too many choices to predict.
Between dodging patrols and avoiding the gaze of the Elivasti stationed atop the wall, it took him fully half an hour to reach the Base Echelon’s Northeastern Keep. His gut tightened as he approached, but he saw no sign of the Sage, Hailen, or the Elivasti. He drew a deep breath in through his nose, searching the air with his keen nostrils. Nothing but the scent of suspended life that permeated Enarium greeted him.
He paused long enough to contemplate his next move. Perhaps the Sage had gone to the Southeastern Keep, still within proximity to retreat into Hellsgate should it prove necessary. Or, had he climbed the hill to the Medial Echelon?
A moment later, the Southeastern Keep began to glow. The humming grew almost loud enough for his keen ears to hear, and the glassy gemstone structure brightened from a soft sapphire to a brilliant pale-blue light.
He had his answer. Got you, you bastard!
He spared a moment of pity for any poor souls trapped within the tower and forced himself not to think about whether or not Jaia had been locked within one of the Chambers of Sustenance. Taiana would expend every shred of physical and mental energy into trying to find their daughter. She’d doubtless try to analyze the Sage’s movement patterns as he had. Perhaps she’d already gone to the Southeastern Tower ahead of him and opened all the Chambers.
He didn’t have time to worry about that. The Sage and Hailen had to be his sole focus.
The question is, what’s the best way to reach them? If he crossed in front of Hellsgate, the Elivasti guarding the front would spot him. His only hope lay in the longer route: climbing the hill to the Medial Echelon and circumnavigating that level.
The steep incline brought back memories of Malandria. Now that he thought about it, the entire city of Malandria had a lot in common with Enarium. Though Malandria had five Echelons instead of three, the tower that Lord Apus had claimed stood in the same location of the city as the Illumina in the heart of Enarium.
A strange thought struck him. Was Malandria built to be a second Enarium?
The sight of another troop of Elivasti shoved the question from his mind, and he ducked out of sight between a pair of four-story buildings made of white, red, and grey stone. When the patrol had passed, he resumed his trek across Enarium, a greater sense of urgency nagging in the back of his mind. Nearly ten minutes had passed since the Sage had activated the Southeastern Keep. That meant the Hunter had less than twenty minutes to reach the Southern Keep before it, too, came to life. Though the Sage only required a few drops of Hailen’s blood, he knew the demon wouldn’t hesitate to drain the boy dry if it served his purposes.
The buildings here were taller, the architectural ornamentation more elaborate. He had eyes for none of it. His worry for Hailen mounted with every pounding of his pulse in his ears, every thump of his heart.
He hesitated within sight of Second Echelon’s Eastern Keep, but he saw no sign of Elivasti patrols. The sloping hill hid him from view of the blue-armored men at the front gate, but any atop the flat roof of Hellsgate would see him. He chafed at the delay, but he forced himself to wait until the guards looked the other way. If anyone saw him, they could raise the alarm and the Sage would be out of his reach again.
His gut tightened as the Southern Keep flared to life on the Base Echelon. That made three Keeps in the space of an hour. At this rate, the Sage could activate all twenty-four in half the time it would take Taiana to search them. He had to do something to slow the Abiarazi down.
He decided to take a chance and raced around the Second Echelon. Luck was on his side, and he ran into no patrols between him and the Southern Keep.
His heart leapt as he caught sight of a group of Elivasti filing from the front door of the tower. Twenty blue-armored warriors flooded the street before the Southern Keep. All carried Scorchslayers, with long spikestaffs strapped to their backs. They wore the same blue breastplates and scale mail pauldrons as the rest of the Elivasti, but two crossed red fists atop an intricate interlaced webbing of black lines were emblazoned across their chests.
A moment later, two figures appeared in the doorway. One was tall, lean, with robes perfectly tailored to fit his strong shoulders and slim waist. He had a long, angular face and clean-shaven chin—the same face the Sage had worn when the Hunter first met him.
The second was a child, barely reaching the Sage’s waist. His cheeks were paler than usual, and his round cheeks seemed to droop with the exhaustion that weighed on his chubby body. Tears streaked Hailen’s face, and even from this distance, the Hunter could see the fear sparkling in the boy’s violet eyes.
Fury flared within the Hunter’s chest, tinged by a sickening edge o
f guilt. Hailen was only here because of him. He’d made the choice to take the boy from the House of Need in Malandria, and again from the Elivasti on Kara-ket. When Father Reverentus had offered the sanctuary of the Beggar Temple in Vothmot, the Hunter had refused and dragged the boy into the Empty Mountains with him.
And how the Sage has him, all because of me. He’d thought he acted in the boy’s best interest, but how had that turned out? Were it not for his choices, Hailen would be safe in the hands of the Beggar Priests, not the captive of a demon, his blood being used to hasten the end of the world.
I have to get him back!
The Hunter’s instincts shrieked at him to charge, to cut down everyone that stood between him and the Hailen. Utter folly, he knew. The Sage and his Blood Sentinels would see him coming, and their lightning bolts would tear him to shreds before he reached the Base Echelon.
He drew in a deep breath in an effort to calm the simmering rage. Prudence now, furious slaughter later.
The purple-eyed warriors formed a defensive ring around the Sage—a column four men wide and two deep before and behind him, with the remaining four flanking him in pairs. At the demon’s command, they turned smartly and began an organized march along the road that led west, toward the Southwestern Keep. The Abiarazi had to be activating the towers in what the master watchsmiths of Praamis dubbed “clockwise”. Why, he didn’t know, but didn’t care either. Right now, all that mattered was that the Sage was vulnerable.
Vulnerable, except for twenty Elivasti armed with Scorchslayers that can rip me to pieces. He almost regretted leaving behind the suit of blue armor he’d taken from Setin. He’d have to hope his speed and reflexes kept him out of the path of the lightning bolts.
He ran down the road that descended to the Echelon below, hoping the tromping boots of the Elivasti and the humming of the Southern Keep would cover the sound of his footsteps. The Hunter could almost feel power crackling through the air as he drew nearer the glowing Keep. When he glanced around the corner, he found his targets had covered barely twenty paces. Hailen’s plaintive cries drifted to the Hunter’s ears.
Darkblade Savior Page 18
