Halls of Power (Ancient Dreams Book 3)

by Benjamin Medrano

  Seemingly everyone in sight stopped and stared at the tiny gold birdcage, and at the tiny figure of the angel that was within it, struggling against the bars. After a moment the succubus put the pendant back, smiling broadly. Not even Diane knew what to say in response to that sight, and she didn’t resist as the succubus pulled her into a hug.

  “Finish securing her in place, and don’t try to mess up,” the Archon’s said, his voice seething with anger, and he paced back and forth through the room. “You’re not to leave this room for any reason, either.”

  Desa trembled in pain as she was secured to the torture frame, Alissa’s eyes filled with grief and despair as she followed his directions. Both of them were covered by a patchwork of scars from where the man’s spell had restrained them, and even now Desa felt the aching pain of where the spell had embedded spikes within her body, simultaneously inflicting pain on her while healing her injuries just as quickly. The sadistic spell was horrifying, and Desa couldn’t help but whimper on occasion as the straps aggravated the pain.

  Alissa finally finished securing Desa in place, both of them naked in the cell below Kelvanath’s palace, the only adornment each of them bore being a bright silver slave crest, which the Archon had inflicted on them with his own hands. He hadn’t even attempted to keep the ritual from them, which gave Desa a sinking feeling of their likely fate.

  “Good. Now then, since you little rats caused so much grief and pain, I see no reason not to do the same. When I leave, Alissa, you’ll start torturing Desa. Cause as much pain and anguish as you can manage, and kill her by tomorrow morning. I want her heart on the plate in the corner after she dies,” Ulvian ordered, glaring at Desa with a nasty smile. “Then you’re to try to cut out your own heart and put it next to hers. I doubt you’ll succeed, but do your best. Do you understand me?”

  “Y-yes…” Alissa gasped out, shuddering in horror, and Desa could see her trying to fight the order, but failing.

  “Good.” With a last glare, Ulvian left the room.

  Chapter 30

  Ulvian barely resisted the urge to approach the succubi who were slowly dressing Tyria in her armor, his breathing a slow, angry hiss as he strove to keep his calm. It took a minute, but finally he spoke, his voice oddly pleasant despite his internal anxiety and rage. “So Zenith just vanished into thin air? An angel of her strength went after a lousy band of elven pests and rebels, and she vanished?”

  “That’s what I just told you, Ulvian, whether you like it or not. I’m perturbed about the situation myself, but there isn’t anything I can do about it. I tried a few divinations and the like, but it’s like she vanished off the face of the continent!” Elissa replied, her arms crossed as she scowled. “I’m glad it happened after the dedication, as her presence lent the event a great deal of weight, but I’d far rather she hadn’t vanished at all!”

  “Of course you would have. I’d have far preferred that she returned with Diane and Jaine, but it seems like everything is conspiring to ruin my plans lately. There’s no chance of her having simply been banished… she would have returned by this point. No, something happened to her. Do you think she’s dead?” Ulvian asked thoughtfully.

  “No, she’s alive, that much of a return I got from the divinations, but the scrying pool was covered in a fog, as something obscured my spells. I’m guessing she was trapped in some form, with wards around her to hide her presence,” Elissa murmured, obviously displeased as she let out a breath, shaking her head. “I think this has the makings of a disaster, Ulvian. If Tyria isn’t ready soon, Kelvanis might be on the receiving end of a very unpleasant summer.”

  “You’ve certainly got that right. Ivan’s army still has Galthor pinned in place, but at last word the elves have an army marching to their relief,” the Archon admitted, shaking his head. “I gave orders that they’re to give ground if necessary, but this is going much farther awry than I anticipated. When I heard that there was a dungeon in the region, I never thought it might result in something like this.”

  “I think you just got too comfortable in the knowledge that you had about it. What’s the first rule of delving into a dungeon?” Elissa challenged, smiling thinly at him, and Ulvian couldn’t help but sigh.

  “Never underestimate a dungeon. Damn it all, I did, didn’t I?” he asked rhetorically. “First was with the Road to Hell, now with this… Dungeon of Everium.”

  “Actually, I was going to say that the first rule is to always make sure you survive, as you can’t spend money when you’re dead, but that works too,” Elissa murmured, shrugging and crossing her arms in front of her chest, her eyes dimming as she continued. “Ivan forgot that. Either that, or he’d just stopped caring if he lived or died.”

  “That’s a morbid thought, but probably not inaccurate. I don’t like to think that he’d gotten mentally that out of sorts, but anything’s possible,” Ulvian admitted.

  For a long moment both of them were silent, watching as the demons secured Tyria’s breastplate. The armor was form-fitting, purple-hued in some areas and shining silver in others, and as he’d thought when he’d seen it, it also exposed too much skin to be practical. He should have expected that from succubi, of all creatures. At least a goddess might be able to survive the impracticality of it. Even so, he found the locks built into the armor to be rather amusing. Somehow he doubted it would actually stop Tyria if she wanted to remove the armor, but it was an… interesting symbology that was reflected by her statue.

  “When’s she going to wake up? And what are you going to do with her?” Elissa asked finally, nodding at the goddess, the faintest hint of nervousness to her voice.

  “Hopefully in… five days. By that point I should have information from the prisoners I captured, which should allow me to pick targets more reliably. Don’t worry, I’ll ask her to bless you with eternal youth at that point, Elissa,” Ulvian assured her, taking a deep breath and standing straighter as he continued, his voice soft. “Then I’m going to send her to the aid of the army in Sifaren. Finally, since it seems my other attempt to deal with the dungeon hasn’t worked, I’m going to have to send her to deal with it as well. I hate to do it, but I’m beginning to believe I have no other choice. Her presence on the battlefield should change everything.”

  “I imagine you’re right, Ulvian. Good luck, and don’t get in over your head. These are more dangerous waters than we’ve ever dealt with before, and Ivan’s already gone.” Elissa reached up and laid a hand on his shoulder, giving him a gentle squeeze and a sad smile before she shook her head. “I don’t want to lose another old friend.”

  Ulvian reached up and clasped her hand for a moment, not replying to her comment as he smiled back at her. After a few moments she pulled away and began to leave, and he turned his attention back to the demons as they finished their work, his voice ever so soft. “Neither do I. Neither do I.”

  Desa watched Alissa pulling the needles out of the fire with tongs, the other woman’s hands trembling as she worked, and was faintly thankful that Alissa had managed to hold off as long as she had. They hadn’t talked to one another at all, so when the other woman spoke, it was startling.

  “I’m… I’m sorry, Captain. I never thought that this might happen.” Alissa’s voice was almost raw, and tears were trickling down her face as she hesitated. “I don’t think I can delay anymore, though.”

  “I know. It… it isn’t your choice, Alissa. I’ll try not to hold it against you,” Desa murmured, then spasmed at another surge of pain from the thorns embedded in her body. She closed her eyes and braced herself, but at that moment a voice echoed through the room.

  “That’s quite enough of that. Stop where you are, Alissa, I need to speak with the two of you for a moment.” The voice was feminine, beautiful… and oddly like Alissa’s voice, so Desa’s eyes opened in confusion, to see two things.

  First was that Alissa’s hand had paused in the middle of extending a glowing needle toward Desa with the tongs, and the other woman was looking to
her right, or Desa’s left. The mage looked in the same direction and her eyes went huge. The rough stone wall was now perfectly smooth and mirrored across one section. In the mirror was a reflection of the room, but where Alissa’s reflection should have been was a figure who was in a completely different pose.

  The woman looked exactly like Alissa, but completely opposite at the same time. Her skin was as pale as Alissa’s was dark brown, her eyes had black sclera and purple irises instead of white and blue, and her hair was black as pitch. The woman was also looking at them with a smile on her face. The previous winter Desa would have had no idea who the figure was, but after the research she’d helped Ellis and Zarenya with, that had changed.

  Now she was frozen in shock as Alissa asked in confusion, “Who are you?”

  “That isn’t the question you need to ask, and I’m not going to answer. Not in this world, at least. No, I’m about to make each of you an offer.” The woman spoke pleasantly, and her smile widened as she looked at Desa, adding, “No speaking my name, Desa. I know that you know what it is, but no giving anyone else warning, hmm?”

  “What… what offer are you going to make?” Desa asked, fright and hope surging through her.

  “The bargain is simple enough. For up to one week of your time, I will rescue you from your predicament and sabotage the plans of a certain demon lord,” the woman offered, grinning as she continued. “See, I’d far rather that the two of you didn’t give her any additional information. Surprises are so much more fun.”

  “What… what would happen to us?” Alissa asked, her voice betraying confusion and wariness.

  “You’d come to my realm, and I’d treat you as guests. Why, I’m even willing to grant healing. It would get you… roughly back to where you were before you so foolishly attacked Her champion in your world. If you were going to do such, you really should have aimed for the head,” the woman replied with a click of her tongue, shaking her head. “Now, what do you say?”

  “I… I agree. Alissa?” Desa asked, looking at the other woman. She saw the tension and confusion in Alissa’s eyes, as the woman struggled against the Archon’s orders. Fortunately, after a moment the figure in the mirror smiled.

  “Ah, I see you’re trying to agree, but being compelled not to. Good enough!” Her voice was happy, and with a gesture the mirror rippled and a strange sensation washed over Desa.

  It was like the world around her had rippled, and she couldn’t properly describe it, save that for a moment all sensation of her surroundings seemed to vanish. The next moment, the room blurred, and she found herself somewhere else.

  Instead of a dungeon, Alissa and Desa were standing in an immense library. The room was circular, with row upon row of bookshelves set in concentric circles around them, rising up the walls of an immense dome above her. Next to them was the woman, but like quicksilver her body shifted, this time into the strangely reversed reflection of Desa, and her voice shifted in the same fashion. Her fingers flicked through the air, forming a strange, complex rune as she spoke. “There we are, nice and safe from Irethiel’s perception. Now, why don’t we ensure she doesn’t realize what’s happened? My apologies, but this will hurt for a moment, Desa.”

  “What? Agh!” Desa asked, then cried out in pain as the pulsing thorns that Ulvian had driven into her flesh pulled out all at once in a spray of blood. In an instant the pain dulled, then vanished as her wounds began to close in moments, but not before Desa had all but fallen to the floor.

  “You psychotic bitch! What did you do that for?” Alissa exclaimed, falling to her knees next to Desa, her hands pausing inches from Desa’s skin.

  The blood had never fallen to the floor, and was instead swirling in mid-air, the thorns having vanished as the woman wove a complex rune. Pressing the rune into the blood, Desa swallowed hard as the woman’s spell caused the blood to ripple, warp… and grow into a perfect copy of herself from before the thorns had been removed, save for the brand itself. Alissa’s gasp was audible, and Desa spoke first.

  “B-be polite, Alissa. This is… is Emonael. Sometimes called the Queen in Mirrors, she’s a former demon lord who rose to godhood. She is the goddess of illusion, magic, and lost and forbidden knowledge,” Desa explained nervously, slowly rising to her feet with her skin now unmarked. “May I ask why you helped us, and what you are doing, Lady Emonael?”

  “G-goddess?” Alissa paled, and Emonael turned from the blank eyes of Desa’s copy, smiling with her strange visage as she nodded.

  “Very good, Desa. Yes, I am Emonael, and you are guests in my library. We’ll deal with you shortly, Alissa, don’t you worry, and I’ll even forgive your insult. I’m afraid I have to work quickly,” the deity replied, her presence seeming completely mundane to Desa’s senses. “What I’m doing is creating copies of you two. I’m going to create facsimiles of your souls and memories, enough to deceive Irethiel for at least a few weeks, and send your fakes back to suffer the fate that Ulvian had in mind for the pair of you. If I’m going to do this, I’m going to do a proper job of things.”

  “You… how can you do that?” Alissa asked, her eyes huge. “I mean, a fake soul?”

  “Quite… well, I was going to say easily, but that isn’t a fair term. With a sample of your soul I can manage it quickly, though, which I’ll gather when I remove your brands. Quickly now, Desa, I want to get this done,” Emonael replied briskly, gesturing Desa forward. The elf hesitated, then stepped forward.

  “What will happen to my soul?” Desa asked nervously as the goddess touched the brand. The lack of any apparent power around the goddess unnerved her to no end, as Emonael seemed even weaker than an apprentice mage, yet there was only the faintest sensation of unease as the goddess pulled her hand away and the brand floated away from her skin fully intact, even as the rush of sudden freedom came over Desa.

  “Hmm? Oh, it’ll regenerate from the damage within a month, as long as you don’t do something stupid like run into a soul devourer or the like. Souls are quite resilient, and can recover from a great deal of damage given enough time. Just look at Sistina’s soul, after all. Twelve millennia in a soul-eating gem, and she’s recovering quite nicely,” Emonael replied absently, stepping over to the body and murmuring something under her breath as she placed the brand against Desa’s copy. There was suddenly a spark of life in the eyes of the figure, which quickly clouded over as the goddess clicked her tongue. “None of that. We don’t want two of you in the same room. We’d never get anything done. Now, then. Alissa, this will hurt a little, I apologize in advance.”

  “I… okay,” Alissa replied, and Desa looked away just before she cried out in pain.

  Desa looked around the library again, studying it more carefully as she tried to process what she’d just been through. Part of her was still in shock that they’d just been yanked from certain doom, but there was a part of her that was terrified that they were just putting themselves into a worse position. Yet the idea of being in the library of the goddess of lost and forbidden knowledge… that fascinated her to no end.

  There was a large table in the center of the room, stacked high with books, and a handful more tables with chairs, but in particular she noticed a single bookshelf only a few paces away. The bookshelf only contained ten tomes, separated into three sets of three by dividers, and a single book on a separate shelf entirely, a shimmering glow surrounding it. Something about the first few books seemed familiar, but Desa couldn’t figure out why.

  Turning back, Desa blinked as she saw that the goddess was now in the strange reverse-hued shape of Alissa again, and that she’d finished creating the copy of the other guard. The goddess finished detaching the brand and turned to attach it to the clone before smiling and waving her hand. With a pop of air, the two figures vanished, leaving them alone in the room, and Desa found herself feeling awkward at her nakedness.

  “May… may I ask why you interfered? I’ve never heard of you intervening directly in a conflict before,” Desa asked after a moment o
f silence, swallowing as the goddess looked at her and smiled.

  “An excellent question, Desa, and one that’s easily answered. I owe a debt, and the payment has been a long time coming. It’s been very… finicky payment, as well, and your deaths would undermine my plans,” Emonael replied, taking a step over to the bookshelf and laying her hands on top of the bookcase. “Do you know what Sistina’s name was, before she became a demon?”

  “No? She never mentioned even her demonic name,” Alissa murmured, looking at Desa.

  Nodding in agreement, Desa added, “Correct. She mentioned she was an angel, and indicated she once served Balvess.”

  “Hehe. Maybe she hasn’t remembered yet… memories are a tricky thing when attached to souls. Her name as a demon was Avendrial. I was so tempted to steal her, but that would have been bad in the long term.” The goddess giggled, smiling broadly as she continued. “But before that, and before her stint as an angel, I knew her. She was Marin. Not just a Marin, either, but the Marin. She researched and wrote Marin’s Codices.”

  “That…” Desa’s eyes went huge, and she almost fell over in shock, her thoughts racing. It was absurd, and yet… it would explain so much. Sistina’s urge to re-write the copies of Marin’s Codex in the Academy, and her sheer magical knowledge, yet the possibility had never occurred to her. How could it happen?

  “Impressive, isn’t it? But it doesn’t answer your question. I owe Marin. See, before she died she gifted me these, my most prized possessions. These are the original copies of her codices. All ten volumes.” Emonael spoke complacently, her eyes dancing with amusement.

  “That… wait, ten volumes? There… there were only nine volumes!” Desa protested, noting Alissa’s confusion, but unable to truly care as she stared at the tenth book.