“Their secret city, their hidden world,” Abe replied. “I’d expected it to be different, but not this… grand.”
Baahir’s voice called out from the pack of Scourgers, who had disappeared into the darkness of the downward path. “Come, Dark Angels,” the voice said. “Holiness Azzar awaits you.”
Meesh, with Abe’s jesting words about sacrificing him to the Scourgers replaying in his mind, allowed his brothers to walk in front of him. The way down was surprisingly smooth and reminded him of the paved streets in Sal Yaddo or the old cities of the Wasteland, and he couldn’t help but wonder how a people as backward as the Scourgers could create such an even surface. Every so often they passed by thick patches of trees hiding monstrous buildings that guarded over the gorge like looming sentries.
When they reached the belly of the valley and the road leveled, things became stranger. Meesh felt an odd sort of familiarity as he strolled past a succession of domiciles. They were boxy constructions with shuttered windows. Some had front stoops supported by columns; some concrete staircases leading up to raised porches. A few were abutted by smaller buildings with large, rectangular doors. The space between the homes was peculiarly uniform, set perfectly amidst an ample lawn of green grass. Diseased faces peered out from candlelit windows. The lights he had noticed from the lip of the vale were guttering torches affixed to the tops of iron rods that sprouted from the earth every fifty feet. There were also side roads that ran perpendicular to the main pass whose layout was very much the same.
I called them savages, Meesh thought in amazement. Shade whistled up ahead of him, echoing that very idea.
The road ended at the base of the tall central peak, where it intersected with another street that rounded the pike. Abe stopped walking and held out his hands. Meesh and Shade came up beside him. The three brothers watched in silence as Baahir spoke with the massive throng of Scourgers in their odd, garbled tongue. Most remained stoic, though a few cast distrusting glances at the Knights Eternal. After a few moments the majority departed, looping around the road and exiting down other thoroughfares.
Soon, only three Scourgers remained. Baahir nodded and proceeded on his way, flanked on either side by large men holding aloft their blade-topped staffs.
The brothers followed.
Meesh noticed that a staircase had been built into the side of the central peak, lit by even more torches and winding around the thick stone, climbing ever upward until it disappeared into the glowing yellow mists high above. There were people on the staircase even at this late hour. Those who climbed became small as ants until they disappeared into the mist. Meesh thought about what Abe had said—they need those mists to simply exist—and shook his head in disbelief.
The guide brought the knights to a large white building with a steepled top, from which sprouted a huge iron cross that must’ve been centuries old. Again Meesh felt an odd sensation while looking at the structure, but he shoved it aside when he noticed Abe grow tense. His body language seemed to say, we’re treading on dangerous ground here. Meesh’s fingertips brushed against his Eldersword and his insides churned with the Rush that followed.
The building entrance was a pair of large doors with elegant depictions of winged angels carved into them. One of the burly Scourgers held open the door, and Baahir faced the brothers.
“Come in,” he said. “Your audience awaits.”
Meesh trailed Abe and Shade up the front stairs. “No,” Baahir said abruptly. “The Unburned will enter the House of Yehoshua, but the impure are not welcome.”
“He will be allowed entrance,” Abe cut in before Meesh could argue. “He is an Angel as well. He is Meshach the Unburned.”
Baahir squinted at Meesh. The torchlight made his eyes blaze crimson. “The third? But he is not dark. He has not been tested.”
“He has,” replied Abe. “His faith burns so bright and hot that the flames could not touch him, and his flesh wasn’t so much as marked.”
The Scourger brought his hand up beneath his chin and stared as if in contemplation. Finally, he said, “It is an honor. Yehoshua accepts you into His holy sanctuary,” and disappeared through the door. The three brothers were left alone with the seemingly mute guards. Meesh, though he was glad Abe had defended him, raised an eyebrow toward the eldest knight.
“What’s going on here, brah?”
“I told you, these people practice one of the Ancient Religions,” Abe said. “Apparently our names are a part of their history.”
Shade glanced at the man sidelong. “Ancient? Yehoshua is the right arm of the Pentus.”
“Yes,” Abe said with a nod. “According to the Oracle, all religions throughout history have borrowed from those that came before. They’ve all skirted close to the truth, but never found it. Our faith is different. The first Reverend Garron discovered the true holiness when he unmasked the Pentus, and hence Pentmatarianism was born.”
“And how do you know this?” asked Meesh.
“I’ve been alive more than thirty years,” Abe said with a grin. “You tend to learn things if you live that long… and read.”
“Come, Angels,” called Baahir from inside the temple.
Without another word, Abe marched up the steps and into the structure. Meesh followed on Shade’s heels, smirking at one of the expressionless guards on his way by.
The inside of the building was lined with long benches on either side of a central aisle. The ceiling was tall, at least twenty feet, and the large torches that hung on the walls illuminated a series of bas-reliefs depicting a bearded man carrying a cross. There was foreign writing beneath each carving. Meesh gaped at the colored glass windows above, tried not to feel awed by this strange, otherworldly place.
Baahir awaited them at the end of the aisle. The diseased man stood upon a dais, to the right of a second man seated in a large and ornate marble throne. Like all Scourgers, the seated man was bald, his flesh scored by the diseases he carried. Yet that flesh also had a certain luminosity; wisps of greenish-yellow steam rose off it. His back was stooped, his limbs skeletal, his hands like claws. He wore a formless blue smock overlaid with gold stitching. His eyes were deep-set and nearly pink.
“That dude’s ancient,” Meesh blurted out.
Abe halted in the aisle and turned to his brothers. “Be reverent,” he whispered. “Show restraint. Azzar is king, but his title is Holiness. And don’t get too close to him.”
“Because he’s glowing?” murmured Shade.
“Pretty much,” Abe answered.
Meesh tilted his head. “Why?”
“Because he spends a lot of time at the top of the peak,” Abe said as if annoyed by the question. “Just do what I said.”
The eldest knight approached the dais. He fell to one knee at the base of the platform, an action Meesh and Shade imitated. “It is an honor to be in the presence of His Holiness once again,” Abe said.
The king of the Scourgers lifted a skeletal hand. When he smiled, he exposed a toothless mouth. “Abednego, it has been far too long.” He gestured to Baahir. “I knew you would come to close the gateway. That is why I sent my priest to await your arrival.”
Abe remained on his knee. “You knew? How?”
“Because God speaks to me, child of the Heavens.”
“If you knew of our arrival, then you know we didn’t come for the fissure.”
The ancient man shook his head. “Life is a mystery, child. Even God will not tell me everything. It is part of the ambiguity of life.”
To that, Abe nodded. “We come seeking answers, Holiness Azzar.”
“May Yehoshua grant you the answers you seek, Dark Angel.”
“In the name of the One True God, I hope so.”
Meesh watched the exchange in astonishment. Abe had always been a martinet for the tenets of the Pentus that had blessed them all with life. To see him act this way now, to utter words that would be considered blasphemy in the Temple of the Crone, was beyond contradictory—though it did not lessen Abe in Meesh’s
mind. If anything, seeing his older brother shrug aside the rules only made him respect the man more. Meesh cast his eyes to the side and saw that Shade was staring at the older man as well, similarly impressed.
“Speak your question, Unburned, and speak truly.”
Abe slowly rose to his feet. “Long ago, I assisted you in battling back the Devil’s blight when it came to devour your land. I hold no ill will for you, or your people. I ask that you remember this.”
“Of course,” King Azzar said with a flick of his bony fingers. “Go on.”
“Why have your citizens descended the mountain? Why have you assaulted a lowlander settlement?”
Meesh tensed and snuck his hand toward his belt. He expected the king to call out for his guards, but the stooped, ancient man did no such thing. Instead, he let out a deep sigh that released a small cloud of glowing steam.
“We are doing God’s work, Angel,” said the Scourger king.
Abe pressed on. “How can that be the case when your men have murdered innocent people? Yehoshua preaches love and forgiveness, not butchery.”
“The Son abhors violence; the Father does not,” replied the king with nary a hint of anger in his tone. “The Father is clear in the First Book—those who wish to harm all He created shall be put to the sword.”
“And you think the people of Barrendale wish this?” Abe asked. “How would you know if you haven’t left your lands in so long? Or is that not the case any longer?”
King Azzar lifted his tired eyes to Baahir, who had remained quiet. The priest abruptly turned his back and walked to the rear of the dais, where there was another, even higher platform. The man bent down over a large gray box.
“Centuries ago, after the Fall of Man, the Almighty briefly returned to His children,” the king said. He leaned back on his throne, and Meesh could hear his brittle joints creaking. “Whereas before He gave to His children His Son, He now presented them with His very soul in the form of a mountain of gold, a reminder of the riches that awaited them in the Kingdom of Heaven. All who set foot on this mountain would be enraptured by His love. But His children were ignorant, and when the Morningstar appeared with promises of untold wealth and power, they turned their backs on their brothers. The mountain was sundered by the hands of greedy men. Those holy pieces were then turned by man’s black heart, used to perform dark magics that would plunge this world into the abyss. For that they were punished, banished from this world forever.”
Meesh scrunched his face. He hadn’t heard this story before, but when he glanced at Abe, he noticed an odd look of surprise on the older man’s face.
“Where did you read this legend?” Abe asked.
“It is not a legend, and I did not read it,” replied Azzar. “It was told to me by the prophet.”
“The prophet wouldn’t happen to be named Cooper?” Meesh blurted out. Abe shot a look over his shoulder, and Meesh shrugged.
If the king was offended he’d spoken, he didn’t show it. “That was indeed the prophet’s name, Faithful One. I am surprised you have not spoken to him, being fellow servants of our Lord.”
“Oh, I’ll speak to him all right,” muttered Shade.
Abe held out a calming hand. He seemed to be mulling over his next move. “It’s true we know of this man,” he finally said. “Though we heard he may be a false prophet.”
“No, Angel, he is very real. He came to warn us that the Lord of Darkness has arisen in the east, seeking the Fragments of the Soul of God to bring about the End of All. The prophet had some of the Fragments on his person. He showed them to me… and they were beautiful.”
“And that’s why you had your people attack Barrendale,” Abe said.
Azzar nodded. “The prophet told us so, and when we entered their village of rock and dust, we knew for certain.” He pointed at the ceiling. “For the Soul Fragments are gifts from God, just as the Holy Mists above are.”
“So you took them.”
“Yes. Now they will not be used to bring about greater evil.”
“Where are they now?”
The king peered over his shoulder, to where Baahir was still fiddling with that large gray box. The Scourger priest finally got it open, its hinges squealed, and from within he hefted three cubes the size of a man’s hand. The cubes glowed brilliant yellow-gold. The priest carried them over and placed them at the king’s feet.
Heartcubes. The most valuable resource in all of Yussai. Meesh stared at them, awed at the way their glow intensified when placed beside Azzar.
“Your Holiness,” Abe said, “if you already took the Heart… the Soul Fragments from the villagers, why haven’t you stopped attacking them?”
“We haven’t retrieved them all,” Azzar said with a warbling sigh. “The lowlanders hide more beneath their din of sin, many more. And we will not stop until we have taken them all. We will not let our world fall into darkness.”
I knew Quint was lying! thought Meesh with a grin. That grin faded when he saw Abe take a step back and cover his face with his hand.
“You can’t know this is truth,” Abe said. Meesh could tell he was holding himself back.
“We can, and we do.” For the first time, Azzar seemed agitated. Toxic spittle flew from his lips. “We saw proof of the Lord of Darkness with our very eyes! The prophet showed it to us, a caged being among them whose heart did not beat, whose lungs did not breathe, and yet it walked.”
Abe frowned, and he met eyes with Meesh ever so briefly. Meesh knew exactly what he was thinking: that somehow Cooper had used trickery to get these poor, superstitious people to do his bidding.
“This is why you burned and dumped your dead at the base of the mountains instead of burying them,” Abe said softly.
“It is,” said the king.
“We do not wish for our own people to rise up against us,” added Baahir, the first time he’d spoken since entering the House of Yehoshua. “We do not wish for God’s most Blessed to be the tools of the Morningstar.”
“Cooper, you bastard,” Shade whispered, softly enough that only Meesh could hear.
Abe stepped away from the throne and wandered down the central aisle with his hand planted on his face. Meesh had to fight the urge to make an ill-timed quip. Seeing the depths of these peoples’ belief and fanaticism, he knew that would be signing his death warrant.
He crept up to the eldest knight’s side. “What’re we gonna do, brah?” he asked. Abe shooed him away. Meesh shrugged in Shade’s direction.
Finally, Abe righted himself and walked confidently up to the dais. “You are not to attack the people of Barrendale again,” he said, his tone assertive.
King Azzar squinted and bared his gums. “You would stand in the way of the will of the Almighty, of Yehoshua His Son?”
“We are servants of the Almighty as well,” Abe proclaimed loudly. He beat his own chest with his fist, which gave Meesh the shivers. “We will solve this conflict peacefully, without more unnecessary death.”
The king struggled to rise from his throne. Baahir was there in a flash to assist his weak king. Azzar raised a long, slender finger toward the brothers. “I will hold you to your word, Unburned,” he said. “We will be watching. Should the Soul Fragments remain in the hands of the lowlanders, you will have proven yourself to be agents of Darkness. When we next descend from these mountains, we will do so as the Almighty’s angry right hand. No mongrels will be spared… not even the holy.”
“Don’t come at me with idle threats,” Abe said, unfaltering.
“We are the chosen children of the Almighty,” Azzar snapped. “The sores covering our bodies weep from His strength. We make no idle threats. You do not know what we were before… what we are capable of. It is best for you to tread lightly.”
With that, Azzar said a few angry words in his garbled native tongue to Baahir. The priest then assisted the frail, diseased man in moving toward the doorway at the rear of the dais. The two of them disappeared inside. Meesh stood there speechless, until B
aahir reappeared and approached the knights.
“His Holiness is weak and must climb to seek sustenance in the Holy Mists,” the Scourger said. “He regrets his harsh words, but is adamant that you know he doesn’t lie. He will hold you to your promise.”
Abe, his face still stern, nodded.
“Peace be with you, Dark Angels of the Almighty,” the priest said. “His Holiness demands you to exit our lands now. You will be met with no resistance, but he wishes you to know that despite who you are, you will not be welcome in our home again.”
Again Abe nodded, while Meesh chuckled at the absurdity of it all.
Baahir turned on his heels and exited through the door once more. For a good ten minutes afterward, the three knights remained silent, until Abe finally shook his head and started for the exit. “I’ll slice Cooper’s throat for this,” he muttered. Shade followed him, similarly angry.
Meesh stood in the aisle, staring first at the Heartcubes on the dais, then at his fellow knights. “Wait,” he said loudly. “Shouldn’t we take those?”
Abe paused and turned about. Meesh didn’t like his expression. Not one bit.
“Leave them,” he said coldly. “We’ll have Quint’s soon enough, even if we have to rip them from his dead hands.” He then stormed out of the building and into the softly glowing night. Shade shook his head and exited as well.
“So much for doing things peacefully,” Meesh muttered, and hurried after them.
5
“I KNOW NOT WHAT THE BEAST BE. IT LOOKETH LIKE FLUID MOST BLACK, AND HATH TAKETH OVER OUR BROTHER. PERCHANCE WE BE NEXT.”
—SHADRACH THE 13TH
12 MINUTES BEFORE DEMISE
Shade felt mildly contemplative as he urged Gypsy to continue on her northeastern journey. He kept the horse to a mild trot to lessen the effect of her wobbling gait and took a moment to admire the harshness of his surroundings. On this portion of the Wayward Pass—the Wasteland’s version of a thoroughfare, which was really nothing more than a miles-long, twelve-foot-wide stretch of sand bordered on either side by iron spikes and crumbling steel rails—there was nothing to see but rippling sand. It was by far the hottest and driest part of the desert; cacti didn’t grow here, and even the nightweed had no way to take root beneath the shifting sands. The place was isolated and devoid of life, much like Shade.
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