Next to him, the second bandit struggled to breathe. He stared at what he thought was his partner and reached out a hand for help.
Malic pressed him against the wall with a strength inhuman. He pulled from his new host’s waist a dagger.
“Not fit for me,” the spirit whispered to the choking, frightened man, “but fit enough for what I seek.”
He brought the dagger up and, as the bandit squirmed, cut a simple, shallow pattern over the chest. Streaks of blood dripped down.
When that was accomplished, Malic placed the blade in his teeth, then reversed his grip so that he could now set the fragment directly in the center of his design.
The other bandit grew more frantic. His struggles intensified, nearly causing Malic to lose the crystal. The spirit grew incensed. He forced his victim to look straight into his eyes.
Caught by those eyes, the thief froze. Malic began muttering under his breath.
A slight bubbling sound caught his attention. He kept his gaze on the bloody pattern but spoke faster.
The bubbling suddenly intensified. It was now not far from him. Out of the corner of his new eye, Malic glanced toward where Zorun Tzin’s corpse floated.
The body bobbed up and down—then, with a swooshing sound, it vanished beneath the surface.
Malic went back to his chanting. The tunnel had suddenly grown quite cold. In the dim lamplight, both his breath and that of the hapless bandit could be seen.
Something erupted from the black waters, rising well above Malic’s back.
Without the least sign of concern, the spirit turned around. Behind him loomed a bone-white thing that resembled some of the jellyfish of the inner sea. Yet this apparition was several times his size, and in the center of the translucent mass, two pale, bulbous orbs fixed on the puny human figures.
A forest of leafy tentacles hung under the fiend, each one arrayed with serrated edges. Fragments of meat and other grisly objects hung from many of the appendages, but they were not nearly so horrific a sight as within the boneless mound that was the creature’s body. In there, already dissolving, was the carcass that had once been Zorun Tzin.
In addition to droplets of water, other things fell from the monstrous creature, inedible bits of the mage’s clothing.
Malic faced the beast. “You understand the hidden tongue, demon! You answered it.”
A thick bubbling sound escaped the fiend.
“My master is Mephisto, brother to your master…Diablo….”
Again, the demon bubbled. By this point, there was hardly anything left of the dead mage save a few bone fragments, including the skull.
“By the pact of the Three, you must bow to my power. You must obey my will! Understand?”
Some of the leafy appendages moved. Malic recognized this as an affirmative response. He smiled.
“You must have a better sacrifice, though. That is also agreed upon by the pact. A living sacrifice, not that sorry appetizer you just swallowed.”
The hundreds of appendages shook more vehemently.
“He is yours,” Malic said, stepping aside.
The demon’s limbs sought the remaining thief. Malic waited until the first had seized the man, then released his hold.
Suddenly granted the ability to move, the cutthroat screamed and tried to pull himself free. He might as well have been a fly caught in a web, though. His struggles only served to tangle him more, and the serrated edges of the demon’s appendages cut into his flesh with ease.
Malic watched with patience as the beast’s victim was drawn up shrieking into the gelatinous cavity. Within, a thick liquid swept over the unfortunate thief. Despite his damaged throat, his screams continued for several seconds. Then, even as his skin started to slough away, he finally stilled.
As the demon began the process of digesting its latest meal, Malic spoke to it again.
“Now you are truly bound. Your magic is mine. First, you will give me the power to keep this body longer than the last.” He did not have to explain what he meant by that, for the demon saw him for what he truly was. “That will buy me time.”
The creature waved its appendages, signaling acknowledgment.
With a smile worthy of his old self, Malic went on. “Then we shall begin the process of finding again one Uldyssian ul-Diomed.”
Nine
Furious at the mages’ duplicity, the son of Diomedes glared. Struck by his will, the emerald sphere shattered easily. Uldyssian stepped out of its wreckage to confront the two remaining mages.
Amolia’s eyes widened perceptively. Kethuus grunted in what sounded like admiration.
“Is this all there is in Kehjan?” the son of Diomedes angrily demanded. “Deception and betrayal?”
Kethuus gestured. What seemed like frost settled over Uldyssian’s shoulders, then turned into something harder than rock.
But even that was not enough. His fury mounting, Uldyssian shrugged.
Amplified by his power, the shrug easily sent the frost flying.
“Stop this!” ordered Prince Ehmad to all of them. “Stop this now!”
To Uldyssian’s surprise, the mages stilled.
The prince stepped around until once more he stood between the two parties. He glared at the mages especially.
“The palace has been dictated to be neutral ground, my dear Amolia,” the young noble said pointedly. “No mage shall cast upon another mage. You’ve violated seven wards by attacking him.”
“He is not of the mage clans,” the blond enchantress replied. “The covenant does not cover him.”
“Are you certain?”
Amolia glanced back at Kethuus, who cocked his head. The pair did not respond further to the prince, but neither did they follow up on their attacks.
Ehmad turned to Uldyssian. “Please forgive what happened, Master Uldyssian. It was an error of judgment.”
Uldyssian did not see it that way, but for Prince Ehmad’s sake, he nodded.
To the female spellcaster, the prince continued, “He wishes to speak to the mage council and the leading guilds. Is that not so, Uldyssian?”
“Yes.”
“Amolia, would it not make for simpler conversation and likely more coherent answers if Uldyssian stood before both of his own free will?”
From the woman, Ehmad received only a curt nod.
“I would recommend that you arrange it, at least with the mage clans. I know whom to speak with concerning the guilds. Uldyssian can talk to both at the same time, so no one’s feelings are hurt.”
Kethuus let out a slight snicker at this last comment, a snicker that vanished quickly the moment Amolia glared at him.
Pretending not to have noticed the incident, Prince Ehmad went on, “And as Master Fahin did before me, I place myself as Uldyssian’s sponsor in this, with all the protections my name gives.”
“Are you sure that will be enough?” the woman muttered.
“I think that’s all there is to say,” the prince concluded, folding his arms.
Kethuus stiffened. Even though she did not face him, Amolia appeared to sense the change.
“They thought they had him,” the shadowy mage announced, his eyes staring off. “But the rat slipped through the trap!”
“They found him that quickly?” asked Uldyssian, impressed despite mention of the escape.
“No renegade mage can hide from the clans in this city,” Amolia explained with some arrogance. “All spellcasters have agreed to leave a small piece of their essence that is hidden away until such an occasion occurs. It did so now with Zorun Tzin as it has with others in the past.”
“That sounds very risky to all mages, especially if one of the council decides he wants Kehjan for himself.”
“It requires three-fourths of the council to open the way to where what we gave is secreted. There is no chance for catastrophe or betrayal.”
Uldyssian was not about to argue, but he felt that the spellcasters trusted in themselves too much, especially considering the feu
ds that had been going on. Worse, now that he had nearly been caught while in Tzin’s body, Malic would surely seek another, and very likely that one would not be one of Amolia’s ilk.
“We will see what the council desires,” she finally agreed. “But do not be surprised if they reject hearing a farmer speak to them about what they should and should not do with their training and skills.”
“That isn’t what I plan,” Uldyssian snarled.
Neither Amolia nor Kethuus replied to that. Instead, the pair stood side-by-side…and then vanished.
With their departure, Prince Ehmad let out an exhalation of relief. “Thank goodness! I feared that if you and they continued fighting, this entire balcony might go.”
“I’m sorry for my part.”
Uldyssian’s host waved off his apologies. “Conclude this matter with the clans and the guilds without more chaos and bloodshed. That is all I ask of you, Ascenian.”
The son of Diomedes nodded. “And that’s all I want.”
But as night fell, there came neither word concerning Zorun Tzin nor any gathering before the mage clans. Prince Ehmad assured Uldyssian that the latter simply had to do with the usual bickering between the spellcasters about how best to arrange matters.
“They will argue this point or that point and eventually come to the same conclusion that they would have if they had not argued at all. It is the same with the guilds, of whom I am also awaiting word still.”
The hunt for Uldyssian’s former captor continued to result in nothing. Since the one sighting early on, Tzin—or Malic, rather—had utterly vanished. To Uldyssian, that meant that the high priest probably had already taken another host. He could now be anyone.
Explaining this to the prince was simple enough; knowing what to do about it was another thing. Ehmad assured him that he would pass this on to Amolia and the others, but to Uldyssian, that was not enough. Malic would come for him again, of that he was certain…and that meant that anyone in the fiendish spirit’s path might become a victim.
Ehmad refused Uldyssian’s suggestion that the son of Diomedes should find shelter elsewhere. “First, unless this dread shade knew that you had left here, he would still attempt to infiltrate the palace. Second, if you leave the palace, the mage clans may use that as an excuse to say that you are no longer under my protection. They are opportunistic like that, Master Uldyssian.”
“You make me wonder if it’s worth dealing with them at all. You make me wonder if there’s any room for trusting them.”
“Oh, there is. When they swear to an oath, they will keep it. You must just be certain of the wording.”
Ehmad left Uldyssian with that less-than-encouraging thought. The prince had provided him with a sumptuous room the likes of which the former farmer had not experienced even as the guest of Ethon of Partha. The plush, rounded bed—much softer than he was used to—had a high, richly woven canopy upon which the beautiful aspects of the jungle had been set. Various animals and flora were intertwined in images that proved restful, not jarring, as Uldyssian first thought. Two golden lances, crossed at their centers, occupied each corner.
The entire motif of the room was typical of what, as a simple villager, Uldyssian would have found garish. The brilliant reds, oranges, and golds were a sharp contrast to the forest colors that one found in a farmer’s abode. Uldyssian’s people had never had much opportunity to adorn their homes so; they were too busy trying to earn a living from the soil.
On his right, there were two large filigreed windows facing the northern end of the city. A gauzy curtain likely made of silk subdued most of the light from without. Uldyssian had quickly learned that the capital never completely slept; there was always something going on. He marveled that people could go about their lives, especially considering the monumental and deadly events of which he was not only a part but a major cause.
His thoughts returned to Mendeln, Serenthia, and the others. For some reason, as the day had progressed, Uldyssian had grown more and more concerned about them. It was as if something was wrong, but what that was, he could not say. He was afraid of actually reaching out to them, for fear that if all was as he had left it, they would suddenly grow more disturbed themselves over his safety. Uldyssian did not want the edyrem acting hastily. Anything that eliminated his chances of garnering the mage clans’ and the guilds’ support against the Cathedral meant calamity.
But a sense of uneasiness continued to grow within him. After some debate, Uldyssian decided to try to reach out to Serenthia alone. He would do his best to reassure her quickly that all was well. There was no need to worry her about Malic’s return, at least for now.
But as he started to call to her, one of the lights outside grew more distracting. No matter which direction Uldyssian turned, it seemed that either the light or its reflection caught his eye.
The solution to his problem was simple enough. Rising, Uldyssian sought a thicker set of curtains flanking each window. He started to draw one across—and then halted. Uldyssian stared at the distant light, trying to identify where it came from. It was far, far away, well beyond where he would have expected it. It almost seemed beyond the city walls, but what so distant from the palace would still be so bright?
Then what sounded like a low growl made him jump. Uldyssian glanced behind but saw nothing. He stood there, poised to defend himself, and finally decided that he had imagined things.
Exhaustion seized him. Abandoning any interest in the light, Serenthia, everything, the son of Diomedes stumbled to the bed. He threw himself on it, then rolled onto his back. Desiring nothing more than sleep, Uldyssian stared up at the comforting patterns in the canopy.
Serenthia and the edyrem came to mind again. Feeling guilty, Uldyssian struggled back to consciousness and tried again to focus on her. Staring up at the canopy, he imagined the jungle there as the same one where she and his brother could be found.
As his focus increased, the imagery above him was defined, becoming almost real. He could hear the jungle sounds and imagined some of the animals actually being there at that very moment. Uldyssian heard their cries. He saw himself in the jungle, not far from his followers.
Somewhere along the way, his eyes closed—and then snapped open as a thick, feline growl erupted.
Uldyssian was surrounded by jungle, but not that through which he had so long trekked. Instead, he was in the midst of a strange, brightly colored jungle. The trees had an odd uniformity, especially the leaves. There was no discernible source of illumination, but he could see as if it were daytime.
And what he saw next was a huge, shimmering cat leaping at him.
Uldyssian gestured, but his powers seemed muted. He managed to shove the cat to the side but did not send it flying away as he had hoped.
Another growl arose from his left. Uldyssian barely had time to throw himself to the side as a second cat lunged.
Both predators immediately turned back. Uldyssian tried to summon a ball of fire, but nothing happened. He was forced to push back through the odd vegetation in order to avoid the sharp claws and teeth.
But barely had he moved into the brush when a massive, armored beast with two long horns on its snout nearly ran him down from behind. Momentum sent it barreling along toward the cats, which leapt out of its way.
And as the larger beast slowed, Uldyssian stared at it. That it shimmered like the cats did not surprise him as much as that it was exactly the same strange coloring. Both it and the cats were gold with a dotted orange line on the edges and uniform red, leaf-shaped marks along the sides of their torsos.
But his inspection was put to an abrupt end as the first of the cats jumped at him again. Unable to avoid it this time, Uldyssian braced himself for the collision.
The cat proved oddly light when it struck, but still the pair went tumbling back. The teeth snapped within inches of his face. Uldyssian, who had grown up around so many different animals, discovered something else disconcerting then.
The cat did not breathe. Ther
e was not the slightest exhalation, nor was there even any of the stench that he would have expected from an animal, especially a predator.
Claws tore at his chest. Uldyssian let out a gasp of pain. Something poured forth from his wounds, odd ribbons that looked like cloth parodies of blood.
And then the son of Diomedes recognized where he was, even as he managed to throw the cat to the side. His fears were verified when he glanced up and around and saw only the same odd leaves and trees. There was no sky. One did not exist here.
He was in the tapestry.
How that had happened, Uldyssian had no time to wonder, for the second cat and the horned beast were upon him. Aware of the unnatural lightness of his inhuman foes, he kicked hard at the fanged feline, then jumped over the armored beast.
A shadow dropped upon him. Talons raked his cheek. A raptor with similar markings to the other creatures flew past. It was nearly as large as the cats. As it circled to attack a second time, Uldyssian nearly tripped into the jaws of one of the sinister river reptiles he and his friends had first encountered when entering the jungle lands. A mouth filled with teeth sought his leg, and although the human suspected the creature of not having a true gullet, he had no intention of finding out otherwise. Uldyssian managed to roll just out of reach of the snapping jaws.
More animal cries filled his ears. From all over, the beasts in the tapestry were converging upon him. In addition to those he already faced, Uldyssian saw long, wicked serpents, savage primates as huge as men, and antelopes with spiraling horns.
He also saw something else. His only hope. He ran as quickly as he could, struggling past a hissing serpent and kicking at another of the reptiles.
There! They stood just as he recalled them. Lengthy golden spears. Uldyssian had barely seized one before another raptor dove down at him. He rewarded the creature for its efforts with a thrust of the spear that skewered the avian in descent. The bird let out a squawk, then died.
Shaking the carcass free, Uldyssian spun around to face the next nearest animal. The cat about to attack suddenly pulled back, spitting. The armored beast behind it did not slow, though. Undaunted by the spear, it tried to trample the human.
The Sin War Box Set: Birthright, Scales of the Serpent, and The Veiled Prophet Page 75
