That momentary distraction was exactly what the Hunter wanted. He crossed the distance to the demon in three strides and drove Soulhunger straight at the Sage’s chest. With his free right hand, he reached for Hailen’s wrist.
The Sage leapt backward, out of the path of the darting dagger, but that sent him away from Hailen. The Hunter’s fingers closed around the boy’s wrist and he hauled hard, pulling Hailen away from the altar. He gathered the boy up and leapt backward before the Sage could counterattack.
The Sage spat curses in the guttural tongue of demons, his eyes fixed on the two of them. “I will feast on your flesh and grind your bones to dust!”
Taiana stepped forward, her eyes like two obsidian daggers. “Your curses hold no power here. We have spent a lifetime apart. My daughter was ripped from my arms and imprisoned for thousands of years. We have endured more than you could possibly imagine. Consider this recompense for our suffering.”
“We should have slaughtered every one of you!” The Sage’s eyes flashed, and his face twisted into a demonic rage. “We should have devoured you in your cribs or torn you to shreds like we did to the pathetic humans that spawned you.”
Anger ignited in the Hunter’s chest as he held Hailen. The boy sobbed against him, clinging to him in desperation. The Hunter had no idea what Hailen had endured over the last few days, and he had no desire to leave the boy even for a moment. Yet he had to put an end to the Sage. He couldn’t fight with the boy in his arms.
While the Sage was occupied snarling at Taiana and heaping curses on the heads of all the Bucelarii, the Hunter strode toward the nearest Chamber of Sustenance.
“Stay here!” he hissed at Hailen.
“Don’t leave me, Hardwell!” Hailen sobbed, his arms locked tight around the Hunter’s neck. “Don’t let them take me.”
“I won’t.” The Hunter clenched a fist. “I swear it, Hailen. Stay here, out of sight, while I make sure the bad man never harms you or anyone again.”
“I’m scared, Hardwell.” Tears streamed down Hailen’s cheeks and his eyes darted to the gaping hole into chaos.
The Hunter’s gut clenched. “I’m scared, too. That thing in the pillar could destroy us all, which is why I have to stop the Sage from bringing it here. But once he’s gone, no one will ever hurt you again. No one will ever take you away from me.”
Hailen’s violet eyes met his. “You promise?”
Sorrow rose like a lump in the Hunter’s throat. Taiana had gone to extremes to protect their daughter, only to have the child ripped from her arms. The Hunter had wanted to protect Farida, but his actions had gotten her killed. No child was safe in a world where cruelty, violence, and chaos existed.
Yet he nodded and said, “I promise,” without hesitation. He would do everything in his power to protect Hailen, no matter what.
Nodding, Hailen wiped his tears and released the Hunter’s neck.
“Get down behind this thing where no one can see you,” the Hunter told him. “Cover your ears and close your eyes tight.”
Hailen obeyed. So trusting—it only added to the Hunter’s sorrow. He had caused the boy so much pain, yet still Hailen had faith in him. He would do whatever it took to live up to Hailen’s expectations.
He slithered along the black stone wall, trying to keep out of the Sage’s line of sight. If he could get around behind the demon while he was distracted with Taiana, he could bring him down long enough for the two of them to wrestle the Sage into the open Chamber of Sustenance.
When he finally risked a glance at the Sage, horror froze him in place. The demon held the tip of a long, slim sword to Taiana’s neck. Even from his angle, the Hunter could see the gemstone set in the weapon’s hilt. With a snarl, the Sage slashed the tip across Taiana’s throat.
Chapter Forty-Four
“No!” The shout burst from the Hunter’s lips as blood gushed from the gash in Taiana’s neck. The blonde woman fell backward, a hand clasped to her neck.
The Hunter moved before the Sage could pursue, leaping over the altar and lashing out with a flying kick at the demon’s right wrist. The Sage whipped his hand back, then brought the long sword swinging around to carve a long gash across the Hunter’s forehead.
The moment steel touched the Hunter’s flesh, agony tore through his body. Pain flooded the Hunter—such torment he'd never dreamed could exist—and ever fiber in his body burned. A horrifying chill, the chill of impending death, sapped the strength from his muscles and filled his world with torment. He’d felt pain like this only once before. The First of the Bloody Hand cut him with a similar blade—a blade like Soulhunger, fashioned with one of the Im’tasi stones from Khar’nath. A weapon like those given to the Bucelarii by the Serenii, not the Abiarazi, to aid them in their quest to sustain Kharna.
The Hunter gasped as the sword tore free of his skin and the torment ended. He staggered backward, stunned as much by the Sage’s ability with the blade as the fact that he possessed such a weapon. On Kara-ket, he’d flinched from violence, even seemed terrified by it. The Hunter had expected him to be that same scholarly schemer, not a warrior like the Warmaster. Yet there was no mistaking the confidence in the Sage’s stance or his grip on the slim rapier—the confidence of a man that had spent a lifetime winning battles.
The Sage grinned. “Surprise!” he sang out as he carved circles into the air in front of the Hunter’s face. “Looks like you’re the fool that brought a knife to a sword fight.”
“Make that knives,” the Hunter growled. He reached beneath his armor for the hilt of one the Swordsman’s blades. The skin of his palms recoiled from the touch of iron, but he gritted his teeth and forced his fingers to grip it. Right now, a bit of pain was well worth having a second weapon. He’d have to be bloody fast to keep the Sage’s longer, lighter blade away from him. Even the slightest wound would be agonizing, perhaps even fatal.
He cast a glance at Taiana. His wife lay on the ground, her face pale from blood loss, yet the gush of blood had slowed as her Bucelarii healing abilities repaired the damage. She would live, as long as he kept the Sage focused on him.
The Sage stalked toward him, and the Hunter retreated. He needed to get the Abiarazi away from the altar. He couldn’t let the Sage activate the power of Enarium to free the Devourer.
“You cannot stop me, Hunter,” the demon growled as he stepped within arm’s reach of the rune-covered altar. “Not this close to getting back all that was taken from me. I don’t need to kill you to access the power of the gods.”
“Killing me is the only way you get that power.” The Hunter slipped closer, moving on the balls of his feet, light as a dancer. “The moment you lose focus, the moment your eyes so much as leave me, Soulhunger will drink your blood.”
The Sage’s gaze darted to the altar and the darkened runes yet to flare to life. His brow furrowed and his lips twisted into an irritated frown. “So be it. This shouldn’t take long.”
The Sage took a long step and lunged, sword tip extended toward the Hunter with perfect execution. Yet the movement was surprisingly slow for a demon. The Hunter saw it coming with enough time to knock the slim blade aside with Soulhunger and bring the iron dagger whipping around at the demon’s throat. The Sage barely managed to leap backward to evade the blow.
The Hunter barked a mocking laugh. “The price of giving up your Abiarazi power. You became human to enter Enarium, so now it’s time you feel what it really means to be human.” He bared his teeth in a snarl. “Let’s start with pain.”
He rushed the Sage in a blitz attack, his daggers swiping so fast his hands blurred. Only the Sage’s longer reach and quick retreat saved the once-Abiarazi from being gutted. The Swordsman’s blade carved a long furrow into the demon’s arm. The Sage let out a little cry of pain, then leapt backward.
The Hunter stared at the wound, waiting for the flesh to blacken from the iron’s poison. Blood welled up from the cut bright crimson, untainted by rot.
Another side effect of being huma
n, he realized. The Sage was no longer susceptible to iron. However, the sharp blade would kill him dead enough. A fair trade, I’d say.
He had faced Abiarazi before and knew to fear them. The demons were stronger than he, faster, some of them—like the First, the Third, and the Warmaster—far more skilled in the ways of war. This…thing before him, the human who wore the face of the Sage, was something different. He had the skill of the Sage, yet lacked the speed, strength, and stamina. With a grin, the Hunter attacked.
To his credit, the Sage fought with a controlled precision that put the Warmaster’s furious rage to shame and far surpassed even the First. His movements were economical, deliberate. The rapier flashed with such speed that the Hunter couldn’t find an opening in his guard. He couldn’t get too close—even a minor wound from that thirsty blade could kill him—and he couldn’t simply hack the Sage to ribbons. He needed to somehow take the demon down and lock him away in the Chamber of Sustenance to feed Kharna without killing him.
Easier said than done.
He wielded Soulhunger in his right hand, using the iron dagger as a main gauche to deflect the Sage’s lightning thrusts. Though he managed to keep the long, slim rapier from touching him, he couldn’t break through the Sage’s impenetrable defense. Anytime he stepped within striking range of his daggers, the Sage used the edge of his rapier to cut at the Hunter. Had it been a simple steel sword, the Hunter would have accepted a dozen slashing wounds to get close enough to the Sage. But this Im’tasi weapon was anything but simple.
Frustration mounted within the Hunter as the humming in the Illumina grew louder. The vibrations between his feet changed to a tremor that threatened to knock him off balance. He and the Sage both staggered as the pulsations in the violet-glowing gemstone pillar grew more intense and set the towertop room swaying.
The Hunter pictured himself riding the deck of a swaying ship—he’d always hated ships, which explained why he’d only ever ventured across the Frozen Sea once. Only this time, instead of waves crashing into a wooden vessel, he rode a swaying tower hundreds of paces tall.
The Sage seemed equally disoriented by the unpredictable movement of the Illumina. He wobbled and staggered, nearly dropping his sword as he clung to the altar for support.
The Hunter saw his opening. The Sage’s eyes had dropped from the Hunter to the glowing blue runes lighting up the altar. His sword arm had lowered, his free hand gripping the stone lip. In that instant of distraction, the Hunter sprang for the demon with all the force in his legs. He leapt across the space in two great strides.
The Sage spotted him at the last possible moment. His right arm came up, the point of his sword thrusting toward the Hunter’s heart. Too late, the Hunter brought Soulhunger whipping across in a cross-body block. The tip slid a finger’s breadth from his armpit, but the sharp blade carved a line of fire into the unprotected underside of his arm. Again, mind-shattering agony flooded him as the blade sought to consume his life.
But the Hunter’s momentum carried him onward. He crashed into the Sage and bore the two of them to the ground. Even as he fell, the Hunter reached out to grip the Sage’s right wrist. His fingers closed around flesh and squeezed with every shred of strength. The demon—no, a human now—let out an agonized shriek as the loud crack of bone echoed in the Illumina’s uppermost chamber.
Steel clattered on obsidian as the Sage’s sword fell from his fingers. He scuttled backward, crawling on his legs and posterior like a one-legged crab, his shattered right hand clutched to his chest.
“Your reign ends today,” the Hunter snarled down at him. He kicked the fallen sword behind a Chamber of Sustenance, out of the Sage’s reach. “No more innocents will suffer at your whims. The day of the Abiarazi has come to an end.”
The Sage’s eyes flashed. “Kill me and you’ll never know what happened to your daughter!”
The Hunter froze, the words tearing at his heart. “You…know?” he managed to gasp out.
“Of course I do.” The Sage nodded, and the fear dimmed from his eyes, his expression growing smug. “Trust me, I know everything that occurs on Einan. You think one little child could walk from Enarium without my knowledge?”
The Hunter studied the man, and it felt as if he stared at a stranger. He had the same features as the Sage, yet he seemed somehow…diminished. Perhaps, in giving up the last of his Abiarazi blood, he’d given up the last of his power. He looked like a scared, desperate man fighting to stay alive. A man that would lie—a very human trait—to save his own skin.
Once, the Hunter had fallen prey to the demon’s lies. He had been deceived, manipulated into fighting the Warmaster and defeating the Sage’s bitterest rivals. Yet the Hunter that had fallen for the Abiarazi’s deceit had been a lost, confused, searching Hunter. The Hunter who stood here now had found his wife, had learned the truth of his past, had come to see his true place in the world. There was still so much he didn’t know—like where in the bloody hell his daughter was—and so much he had yet to learn. Yet he no longer felt that same desperation that had driven him before. He had answers, he had the truth of himself.
“No.” He shook his head. “You don’t know.”
“Of course I do!” the Sage snapped. “Believe me when I say there is nothing—”
“That’s just it.” The Hunter pressed Soulhunger’s razor-sharp edge against the demon’s throat. “I don’t believe you. I don’t trust you. You’re lying again, just when you lied about wanting to bring your family to be with you, or wanting to help me or Hailen. You lie like most men breathe. So no, I won’t be listening to a Keeper-damned word you say.”
The Sage’s eyes widened, then narrowed, and fire flashed. “You’re making a mista—”
The Hunter cut off the Sage’s words with a fist to the face. The once-demon’s head snapped backward, blood sprayed, and he sagged to the ground, unconscious.
He stared down at the slim figure of the Sage, with his perfectly manicured eyebrows, angular nose and chin, and thin-lipped mouth. Hard to imagine he’d once been the most powerful creature on Einan.
The Hunter seized the Sage’s collar and dragged him toward the open Chamber of Sustenance. He lifted the unconscious man from the floor and dropped him onto the stone cradle, then stopped. He had no idea how to connect the Sage to whatever fed the power to Kharna.
But Taiana might know. She’d found a way to disconnect the Bucelarii—perhaps she could understand how to reverse the process and tether the Sage to the Chamber.
He turned and rushed to Taiana’s side. She had pushed herself upright, the pain faded from her expression. The wound had healed enough that it no longer leaked crimson, but her face was still pale from loss of blood.
“Drayvin, is it true?” She reached for him, gripped his arms. “Does he know where our Jaia is?”
“No.” The Hunter shook his head. “It’s just another of his lies.”
“How do you know?” Taiana fixed him with a hard glare.
“I don’t.” The Hunter spoke the words with effort. “I want to believe that he knows something—more than anything, Taiana, I want to know what happened to our child—but the risk is too great. Kharna told me what will happen if the power of Enarium is activated now. We can’t take that chance.”
“But Drayvin, our child!” Her voice was hard, determined. “We must find her.”
The Hunter gripped her hands with a strength to match hers. “We will. But after the danger to the world has passed. After the Sage is sealed, his life force going to feed Kharna.”
Taiana pulled back, anger flashing across her face.
“Besides, you said Kharna spoke in your mind, right?” The Hunter reached for her again. “If the Sage truly does know, Kharna will get it from him.”
Hope sparkled in Taiana’s eyes. “You’re right,” she breathed. “We will find out what he knows.”
“But first, we have to find a way to shut this down.” The Hunter turned to the console.
“Shut it down?�
� Taiana sounded confused. “Didn’t Kharna tell you the power needed to be activated? Not to free him, but to feed him.”
“And to do that,” came a new voice, “we’re going to need the boy.”
The smell of muddy leather, citrus oil, hops, and pine oil flooded the Hunter’s nostrils, accompanied by the scent of Vothmot kaffe, worn metal, smoke, and sandalwood. The Hunter whirled and found a tall man with long, braided red hair, a bushy beard to match, and eyes the color of midnight holding Hailen by the throat.
Chapter Forty-Five
“Step away from the altar,” Cerran snapped. “We have come too far, suffered too much, to fail now.”
The red-bearded Bucelarii wore the blue breastplate of a Blood Sentinel, and blood covered him from head to toe. Kalil stood behind him, clad in the same armor, equally gory. Both held spikestaffs, but Cerran’s grip on Hailen’s throat was the true threat.
The Hunter’s eyes flashed toward the boy. “Don’t be afraid, Hailen. I won’t let him hurt you.”
“I know.” The words were said in a quiet voice filled with faith. Hailen trusted that the Hunter would protect him.
Cerran tightened his grip on the boy’s neck, making Hailen wince and squirm in his grasp. “I have no desire to hurt the boy. If anything, we need him alive and unharmed. His Melechha blood will sustain Kharna and, coupled with the power of Khar’nath and the Keeps, we can seal the rift once and for all.”
The Hunter’s blood ran cold. They want to lock Hailen in a Chamber, use him to feed Kharna power? If they activated Enarium with Hailen in the Chamber, could the boy survive?
“No!” His growl reverberated through the towertop chamber. “Kharna showed me the truth, reminded me that we all swore to protect the world by sustaining him. But not like this. Not by sacrificing the lives of the innocent.”
“What is the life of one innocent compared to a thousand, or a hundred thousand such lives?” Cerran’s brow furrowed as he stared down at Hailen. “With this boy’s blood and the lives of those still remaining in Khar’nath, we could have enough to close the rift.”
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