Mariyah felt herself drawn, as if some invisible force were urging her to rise. Without knowing how she got there, she found herself standing beside the bed. There was no recollection of pulling back the blanket or feeling the shock of the cold floor on her bare feet. Yet there she was.
“You will not control me,” she said through clenched teeth.
I have no desire to. I wish only to speak with you: to show you the folly of the path you have chosen and beg you to see through the lies you have been told.
“Leave me alone.”
I cannot. For it is you who have summoned me. I am your servant. I will never abandon you as others have done. As Lem did. I will stay by your side until the stars cease to shine. And beyond. Through time everlasting.
The compulsion to open the door and discover the source of the voice was overwhelming. She crossed the room and gripped the knob. “You say that you are my servant?”
Yes.
“So if I command you to leave?”
I will obey. I ask only that you first listen to my plea. Hear my petition before passing judgment.
She stepped into the hall. It was empty. “Where are you?”
Speak my name and I will be revealed.
“Belkar.” The name slipped out without thinking, her voice barely above a whisper.
At once, the door to Lady Camdon’s chamber opened and a tall figure emerged from the shadows. Mariyah took a quick step back. He was a man, yet like no man she had seen before. A full head taller than most and twice as broad in the shoulder, he was wearing black pants and a simple white vest that revealed a well-muscled frame. His feet were bare, and aside from a thin leather circlet holding back his silver waist-length hair, he wore no jewelry or any other form of decoration. As he stepped closer, she could see that his flesh was slate gray and smooth, much like polished granite. With long, angular, and perfectly symmetrical features, he was undeniably beautiful. His broad smile was warm and welcoming, yet gave off a sense of humility, as if he felt honored to be in her presence.
“You see? Am I as terrifying as you have been told?”
Mariyah was too stunned to speak, and took several seconds to compose herself. “No. You are nothing like I expected.”
“And your beauty far surpasses my loftiest expectations.” He gestured down the hall. “Will you walk with me?”
“Where are we going?”
“For a stroll, nothing more. Though if these surroundings are unpleasant for you, I can take you wherever you wish to go.”
Home flashed through her mind.
“You would like to see Vylari again? I can take you there. Would you like that?”
“Only if it’s real,” she said, ignoring the fact that he had just read her thoughts. “I’m sick of glamor.”
“What is real? If you believe it to be so, is it not just as true?”
“No,” she stated flatly. “It isn’t.” This was a dream, she decided. It had to be.
“Not precisely,” he replied. “A dream is contained within one’s mind. You could not speak to me in a dream. If you want to know if your body is still lying safely in your bed, then the answer is yes. But I assure you, this is very real. As am I.”
“How is this possible?”
“All things are possible if only you allow yourself to believe. You will learn this in time.”
Mariyah looked up. They were in the south garden walking down a stone path between a row of tulips. “Please don’t do that,” she said, unsettled by the sudden change in location.
Belkar laughed. “It was not I. You possess more power than you yet understand.”
“Is that why you’re here?”
“In part,” he admitted. “I cannot deny that your strength draws me to you. With you as an ally, my return would be much hastened. But I desire more. I will shatter the prison that holds me. Nothing can prevent that now. Those who would poison your mind against me know this all too well.”
“Then what is it you want?”
“Long have I searched for one who could stand beside me as my equal—someone with the power and the courage to see the world as I do. A mate to give me the balance I have lacked. For countless lifetimes I have waited and watched as mortals struggled uselessly against the demons of their nature. You, Mariyah, have the power to make them understand. To open their eyes to the futility of their petty ambitions.”
“Not everyone is like that,” she protested. “There are good people in the world.”
Belkar sniffed. “Do not be deceived. Human hearts never change.”
“That’s not true. People can change. I’ve seen it with my own eyes.” But even as she spoke, she thought of the cruelty and senseless pain visited upon her—and others—since leaving Vylari. But there were also people in the world like Gertrude, like Trysilia, even Marison. People with kind hearts and gentle spirits. They could not be held to account for the wickedness of others.
He let out a long, sad breath. “If only you had seen through the ages as I have, you would know how mistaken you are. But mortal memory fades, altered by the victor and forgotten by the subjugated. Those in power in this age have fought and killed over nothing more important than to whom they offer their prayers. No, sweet lady, mortals do not change. They throw off one yoke only to put on another. Nothing differs aside from the hand holding the whip.”
Mariyah found his words oddly compelling. Still, she had doubts. “I refuse to accept that peace is impossible. Surely it just takes time.”
“Were it only so,” he said softly, sounding to Mariyah as if thinking about an unhappy memory. “Old ways return, no matter how hard they try. They cannot help themselves. It is written into their very essence. Only through me will peace be eternal. This has been my sole ambition: to finally bring harmony to the world and ensure that never again will one be subjected to the cruelty of another.”
“How will you do this?”
“Long ago I discovered the secret to eternal life. I thought it gave me the right to rule … to conquer. And in my arrogance, I set forth to bend the people of Lamoria to my will. But I was foolish and did not yet understand the truth of what I had become. I had yet to see the potential of the power I wielded. In the end, it was my undoing. I have since become wise. I see where my mind was flawed. Now, I am coming to right the wrongs of the past.”
“And you want me to help you?” His words were reaching deep into her spirit, pleading with her to trust him. But she wasn’t able to. There was a barely discernible look in his eyes that troubled her. He was hiding something.
“I did not come here to trick you,” he insisted.
“I … I want to believe you.”
He turned and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Then do. I cannot face the ocean of time alone. That is another lesson I have learned. The moment I felt your spirit, I knew I had found my mate. My queen. Join me. Help me to bring peace to this troubled world.”
His touch was warm and soothing. And his voice … like the song of the wind whispering gently through fall leaves. “If there can be peace, why would you be alone?”
“It is the price I have chosen to pay for the good of all. Only you have the strength to span the ages with me.”
For a brief moment, she felt as if her will was about to break. Then she saw it: the faintest of lights hidden deep within his dark eyes. This was what he did not want her to see.
“What are you doing?” he demanded, his tone hardening. He shoved her roughly away. “Stop this at once.”
But Mariyah’s mind was set. Just as earlier, when she had been compelled to meet with him, she was now equally driven to know what he was concealing. There was a rush of motion, as if falling from a great height. The garden disappeared and the world around her was now a blur of color. Then, in the far distance, a single point of light shone. No; not light. The veil of deceit fell away, and it was transformed. It was darkness. Belkar’s darkness. Like a dying star, its absence of light was in an ominous way dazzling to behold—a d
eep pit of oblivion fixed in the night sky. Looking closer, she could see tiny filaments of mist spewing forth, creeping throughout the world, intent on invading the spirits of all it touched. Turning them to his cause. Infecting them with his power.
She wanted to pull away but was drawn irresistibly closer until finally passing through the darkness and seeing what lay beyond. Before her now stretched an endless land of ash and fire. Not a single tree grew or bird sang. It was lifeless, as if death itself had come to claim it as its own. Flames erupted from thousands of jagged fissures, and a cloud of thick, acrid smoke hung in the air just a few feet above the rocky ground. Mariyah knew instinctively that no mortal foot had ever trod in this place.
But it was not the desolation of the land that was causing her tears to now spring forth. It was what lay within. She wanted to cry out, but the knowledge of what she beheld had robbed her of speech. This was Belkar’s prison: the place where the ancient Thaumas had sealed him away countless lifetimes ago. And inside this prison, she could see what he intended to unleash upon the world: thousands upon thousands of men and women, every one of them clad in black armor, with spears planted in the ground at their sides and swords hanging from their belts. Motionless as statues, they stared unblinkingly with black, soulless eyes into the void, awaiting their master’s command.
Belkar was standing beside her. Horrified, she spun to face him. “You did this to them. And this is what you intend to inflict on everyone else.” Rage filled her. “This is the kind of peace you bring?”
“You see without understanding,” he replied. “It is the only way. They are a part of me now. They know nothing of hatred or jealousy. They are at peace. And so long as I live, they will endure. They are bound to me, and I to them. Can you not see the beauty in this?”
“What I see isn’t beauty; it’s a nightmare. And you are a monster.”
He dropped to one knee and took her hands. “I beg you to listen. You need not become like this. I cannot bear the emptiness of time alone. Join me, and I swear you will remain as you are. I would never allow your spirit to dim.”
She jerked free. He was no longer beautiful, and his warm, tender voice now sounded as if every word were a vile curse. “You think I would sacrifice the entire world to save my own life? No. You may have touched my spirit, but you do not know me. If you did, you would flee this instant. Now that I have seen what you really are, I swear that I will never stop opposing you.”
Her fury built with each second until it threatened to overcome her reason. She charged blindly forward, ready to rip him apart, but he vanished in a blink, and she found herself once again in her room, standing beside the open door.
Fight me if you must. Kill my servants, oppose me at every turn. It will do you no good. I am coming. You cannot prevent it. I will bring peace to Lamoria. And in the end … you will be mine.
Mariyah’s eyes popped open. She was now back in her bed, her heart pounding and her nightgown soaked in sweat. Then, just as she was sitting up, the box on the nightstand containing the pendant burst into flames. Quickly, she doused the fire with what was left in the teapot. As the water bubbled away, thin lines of red smoke snaked out, filling the room with a sickly sweet odor. With a hand covering her nose, she slid from the bed, the light brightening the moment her feet struck the tiles. This was a magic with which she was unfamiliar. And whoever had given this gift to her had to be a follower of …
A terrible thought invaded her mind. He was real. Belkar was more than a mere name by which to rally support. He was real. There was no doubt. And he was coming.
She tried to calm her breathing. Lady Camdon had to be told. While reaching for the door, she hesitated. Just outside she could hear the soft scraping of shoes. Her heart raced once again. No one should be in this part of the manor at such a late hour. It was a rule that none of the servants would ever dare break. She looked over at the smoldering remains of the box. This could not be a coincidence. Whoever was outside should not be there.
Her eyes darted around the room for something to use as a weapon. Finding nothing, she picked up the now-empty teapot and pressed her ear to the door. The clack of a doorknob was barely audible. Someone was sneaking into Lady Camdon’s chambers; someone who knew how to pass through her wards. Holding her breath, Mariyah eased the door open just enough to peer into the hallway. A silhouetted figure was entering Lady Camdon’s chambers with slow, cautious steps. The shimmer of a blade in their hand caught the light from the corridor.
Fear and panic threatened to rob her of courage. She had never faced anything like this. Yet if she didn’t act, Lady Camdon would die. And after her encounter with Belkar, she knew that could not be allowed to happen. Squeezing her eyes shut, she took a series of short breaths. She could cry out a warning, but that might only get herself killed. There were no wards guarding her own door, and the lock might not hold a determined attacker long enough for help to arrive.
She pictured the layout of the Lady’s chambers. The first room beyond the entrance was a spacious parlor. Lady Camdon would be in her bedroom, which was through a door on the left. Her muscles twitched and jerked with nervous anticipation. She only needed to buy enough time for Lady Camdon to wake. Surely she could do that much.
Gripping the handle of the teapot in her right hand, she burst into the hallway, shouting out a warning the instant she crossed the threshold. The alerted intruder spun around just as Mariyah brought her arm down hard, the pot aimed at their head. Her makeshift weapon shattered into countless pieces, though where it had struck she could not tell. The next thing she knew their bodies collided, sending them both tumbling to the floor. They grappled for a moment, then pain ripped through her left shoulder as the dagger sank deep into her flesh. Mariyah attempted to twist away, but the pain had caused her muscles to momentarily seize. In an instant, the blade was pulled free and she found herself rolled onto her back, her enemy kneeling on top of her. The flurry of movement had prompted the light overhead to brighten, though a black scarf covering the intruder’s face masked their identity.
There was a split second of terror as Mariyah realized her helplessness. Deadly steel hovered, poised for a killer blow. Unable to resist, she closed her eyes and waited for death. But it didn’t come. Rather than feeling the bite of cold steel, there was the glorious relief of her foe’s weight being lifted from her chest. She opened her eyes again just in time to see the masked figure’s body crashing hard into the far wall. Lady Camdon was standing in the doorway of her bedchamber, her hands pitched forward with a furious expression. A flash of green light flew from her left palm, smashing into the assassin’s chest.
Clutching at the wound, Mariyah struggled to her feet. Blood oozed out between her fingers, each droplet dissipating with a hiss as it landed on the floor. Lady Camdon, ignoring the assassin for the moment, raced over to examine the injury.
“You’re lucky it wasn’t your heart,” she said. “What in the world possessed you to do such a thing?”
“Whoever that is had passed through your wards,” Mariyah replied through a clamped jaw. “What else could I do?” She was about to point out that she had saved her life when a fresh wave of pain had her sucking her teeth and stumbling back.
Lady Camdon helped her into a nearby chair. “Next time, Mariyah, a warning will do just fine.”
Next time I’ll just let them kill you, she thought.
From a nearby cabinet, Lady Camdon retrieved a small metal box. “This is not going to be pleasant,” she warned, scooping out a thick blue paste with the tip of her finger and applying it directly to the damaged flesh.
The pain intensified to such an extent that Mariyah was unable to contain an agonized scream. Mercifully, it was fleeting. Within a matter of seconds, the pain was no more than a dull throb, and the bleeding had stopped completely.
“You need proper treatment,” Camdon told her. “But this will do for now.”
Though the pain had lessened, Mariyah found that her arm was now comple
tely paralyzed. “What did you do?” she asked.
“I saved your life. A wound like that could have seen you bleed to death. Don’t worry, you’ll be able to use your arm again soon enough.” She placed the salve on a table beside Mariyah, then stepped over to where the still-unconscious assassin lay. Kneeling down, she ripped away the scarf.
Mariyah gazed in stunned disbelief. “Kylanda!”
Lady Camdon appeared unmoved by the revelation. She checked the girl’s pulse. “Whoever sent her made certain that she would not be able to talk.” She rose, tossing the scarf onto Kylanda’s lap.
“She’s dead?” asked Mariyah.
“Nearly. The spell I used should have only disabled her. Someone must have used a binding spell to make sure she went through with the attack. Clever.”
“Can you save her?”
“No. She’ll be dead in minutes.” This time her face bore clear disdain. “She’d be in quite a lot of pain were she conscious. A pity I can’t wake her.” She returned to Mariyah’s side. “How did you know she was coming?”
Mariyah recounted her experience with Belkar. “I awoke just as she was sneaking into your room.”
“It was fortunate for me that you did.” She looked again at Mariyah’s wound. “Come. I’ll send for a healer in the morning. I promise there won’t even be a scar.”
Mariyah remained seated, confused as to Lady Camdon’s lack of reaction to what she had been told. “Then he is real?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“You said he was a myth. Just a name people used to intimidate others. Why not tell me the truth?”
“Honestly, I didn’t think you would believe me. Neither did Felistal. And before you look at me with those angry eyes of yours, ask yourself this question: If I had told you that an immortal sorcerer of legend was influencing the minds of the nobles to prepare for his return, what would you have done? I couldn’t risk you leaving.”
Mariyah wanted to argue, but the woman was right. She wouldn’t have believed her. Even after having seen Belkar for herself, it was difficult to grasp. “Why is it so important that I stay?”
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