She ventured through the thickening overgrowth. This land had been left to its own devices for quite some time. It was not tended to, and thus lacked the sculptural aesthetic of elven horticulture. She had to struggle through some very dense bushes to reach the center of the memorial, but it was worth the effort. After startling the very rabbit whose shape she had borrowed, she found herself at the foot of a statue that reached nearly as tall as the trees that surrounded it. The grove had all but reclaimed it, cocooning it in vines that bloomed with sweet-scented flowers. But still visible was a trio of elves, each standing heroically with weapons raised. Their heads were craned, looking upon the final figure that dominated the image. It was a dwarf, rendered more crudely and monstrously than the elves. It was many times their size, and set back from them such that she suspected it was intended to be larger still.
Ether did not know precisely what it meant. On the surface it was symbolic of a ruinous clash against dwarfs. But she wondered how much was artistic interpretation…
She set the matter aside and hopped back toward the palace. No doubt she would be missed if she was absent for much longer; and there was, after all, a message to deliver.
Chapter 8
Hours later, Nehri sat in her own hut. Despite her honored place among her people, her home was no larger or more ornate than those of the other villagers. The only indication of her status was the abundance of artifacts associated with her role in the village. Her robes hung with care on one wall. She had stacks of texts, painstakingly copied from her predecessor as part of her training. And of course, she had several of the precious thir gems, the better to focus her mind upon their worship and practice their teachings. As the priestess, she also had the duty to become as skilled as possible in the D’Karon teachings. She knew each of their spells by heart, and could recite every word of their many invocations and mantras backward and forward. It was the entirety of her purpose, the focus of her life.
Right now, though, she’d shifted her attention to a small mark, the curve and point that Ivy had revealed when they’d learned she had known Teyn. She’d scrawled it with care on a bit of parchment, duplicating it from memory. It really was a simple insignia, but something about it had lodged in Nehri’s mind. Ivy was visibly reluctant to embrace the D’Karon teachings. And she claimed that those approaching from the south, warriors clearly in service of Sonril, were her friends. Any of these things separately would have been cause for varying degrees of concern, but Nehri could have set them aside. The combination of them set the wheels of her mind in motion, and she did not like the direction they were heading. She set the parchment aside and consulted one of the sacred texts. On a well-worn page, she found a short passage discussing the enemies of the D’Karon, a group the D’Karon called the Adversaries. It was said they would all bear a mark.
Nehri reread the words on the page, the warnings that the mark could “defend itself” against the D’Karon and those who served them. The defense was described as a soul-deep burning, something that would come at a single touch and injure any who were loyal to the D’Karon way. Nehri steeled herself. She lightly touched her palm to the page.
The pain was immediate, and piercing. She pulled her hand away and gasped, the mystic burning lingering briefly. She felt as though she’d touched a branding iron, yet this was a simple mark, ink on a page and drawn by her own hand. Worse than the pain, though, was the realization. Ivy was an Adversary, and her friends more of the same. One of her own kind, welcomed into the heart of their precious safe haven, was a tool of the powers opposed to their own patrons. And if she spoke the truth… Teyn bore the same mark. The mate of Sorrel, progenitor of her own bloodline, an Adversary…
“No…” Nehri breathed. “There must be some other explanation.”
A sound came as a welcome distraction from her worrisome thoughts. It was the massive flap of leathery wings and the jingle of heavy chains. She felt her jaw tighten.
“I’ve asked him not to do this…” she fumed.
Nehri grasped a thir stone. It drew weakly at her spirit, but it was fresh from the shrine and thus its appetite was nearly sated, so there was no need to make an offering of herself to it. She stepped outside into the dead of night and turned her eyes and ears to the sky. The dim form of Boviss swept over the sleeping town. He came down with an earth-shaking impact at the fringe of the village. Nehri rushed up just as Reyce hopped from the dragon’s back.
“Reyce, I have asked that you not bring him here. Boviss frightens the children,” she said.
“That is good,” Boviss rumbled. “It is a fine lesson for them to fear dragons.”
“Better the children be frightened than our village fall,” Reyce said.
She glanced angrily back and forth between them. “What are you talking about? And where have you been?”
“Doing my best to deal with the agents from the south. Haven’t you been watching the gems?”
“I have been doing my best to see to Ivy.”
He held out a depleted thir gem. “Rishrim contacted me. He was nearly killed by the party we rescued Ivy from. His wasp struck one of the dragons. I’ve sent Norrim to watch them, but it seems the dragon may yet recover.”
“Nothing has ever survived that poison.” She narrowed her eyes. “Why was a wasp even present?”
“Our foes are more formidable than we’d imagined. They are powerful, they are resourceful, and they are dedicated. I needed to act quickly, to strike hard. That is why I needed Boviss. I refuse to risk underestimating them. Though we have always been able to avoid detection before, they may find something there that could lead them here. I need to know more. Where is Ivy? I have questions, and if she cares for her race, she shall answer them.”
“Ivy is in her hut…” She clasped her hands together, wringing her fingers. “Reyce, there is something you need to know. About her, and about the others. It may explain why our foes seem so much more powerful than we’d imagined.”
“What is it?”
Nehri fetched the parchment with the mark. “Touch it.”
He did so and recoiled in pain. She watched as his expression changed, his mind working out what this meant.
“The Adversaries…” Reyce’s fists tightened. “How could I be so foolish?”
“We couldn’t have known, Reyce. She is one of our own kind. It was right to bring her here. And perhaps it is not too late for her… Perhaps you can convince her of the truth.”
“We shall try.” He shut his eyes and lowered his head. “I pray to our patrons that fate has not condemned one of our own to die in service of their foes…”
“As do I. As do we all…”
He marched away, leaving Nehri beside Boviss. The hulking beast swiveled his head and fixed his piercing gaze upon her.
“Nehri,” he said, his permanent, unnerving grin shifting ever so subtly to a sneer. He drew in her scent. “I recall your mother. A female chieftain. Rare. So seldom do I deal with females.”
“That is because the role of priestess falls more commonly to us, and you refuse to swear your loyalty to the D’Karon. Or had you forgotten why you are kept so far from their blessings?”
“I have no need for their blessings. Such magic is for the weak.”
“The weak. I would suggest you have forgotten just how you came to be among our subjects, but you have no shortage of reminders. Half of your scars came from the day you were bested. And both of your missing limbs.”
Boviss scratched at the ground with his prosthetic claw. “I remember. I remember all.”
“Then remember that my people nearly struck you down once. You live because of our charity and mercy, and you would do well to remind us of your gratitude.” She tightened her grip about her gem, bringing a renewed glow to its heart.
There were few beings Nehri had a deep, personal distaste for, but Boviss was chief among them. In all the years he had served the people of Den—far longer than she or even her grandparents had been alive—he had neve
r acted against them. But his demeanor was vile, and his words were poison. Every time Reyce traveled to his lair to seek counsel, the chieftain returned with his mind more firmly twisted in the direction of conquest and battle. The dragon was a terrible influence, but an invaluable tool in their continued safety, as when all else failed, it was by his tooth, claw, and flame that Den was protected. In a way, there was a balance to his unwillingness to embrace the D’Karon, as he was only truly needed when their bountiful gifts fell short.
Nehri thought for a moment. “Boviss. I require your aid,” she said.
“To be of service to a priestess. An honor.”
“Don’t waste your hollow words on me, dragon, and remain here.” She once again revealed the page containing the mark and beckoned. “Offer me your paw and tell me if you feel any pain.”
“Does the priestess wish to practice her magics upon her lowly servant?”
“Do as I say,” she said firmly.
Boviss turned his flesh-and-blood forepaw over and angled it toward her. Each of his claws was nearly as long as the whole of her body, and within the cracks and crevices, rusty-brown stains told the tales of a thousand creatures who had fallen before him. She steeled herself, unwilling to show fear, and pressed the page against the thinnest patch of hide she was aware of, the flesh between the claws.
“Do you feel anything? A burning? Some working of magic?”
“I feel only your touch. And barely that.”
“Then it is true,” Nehri said. “The mark burns only those loyal to the D’Karon.”
“A potent weapon against your kind. A creature with such a weapon comes to you, and you let it live. Curious…”
“We do not share the same lust for blood as you, Boviss.”
“And so few of you remain. Perhaps if you did, there would be more of you left. No matter. In your brother, there is hope.”
#
“Vesk, Manca,” Reyce said, noticing two of his better warriors readying themselves for a late-night patrol. “Follow me. Eyes sharp and ears sharp. I shall have a word with Ivy. She may not like what she hears. Be ready for anything.”
The other malthropes nodded and fell into a march behind him. They each clutched ornately carved wooden clubs. Reyce reached the hut and stepped inside. His sudden appearance stirred Ivy from her sleep.
“Reyce…” she murmured, slow to rouse from rest. “Is something wrong?”
Reyce turned aside. “Vesk. A light, quickly.”
The malthrope dashed to a flickering lantern hung beside the communal stew pot and fetched it. Reyce took the lantern and lit the lamp in Ivy’s hut. What the light revealed was fascinating. Ivy had taken one of the twigs used to light the lamp the previous night and had scrawled complex designs upon the tabletop with its charred tip.
“I have spoken with Nehri. Ivy… I truly thought better of you than to deceive us in this way.”
“What have I done?”
“The mark on your chest. You are an Adversary. A foe of the D’Karon. An enemy of our patrons.”
Ivy shut her eyes and slumped a bit. “That’s just what Turiel called us…”
“Then it is true.”
“The D’Karon books call us Adversaries. The rest of the world calls us the Chosen.”
“And you hid this from us. Ivy, we brought you here. We rescued you, introduced you to your proper home!”
“You kidnapped me, Reyce. Those from whom you took me are my friends. My allies. If you’d just take a moment to talk to them, you would understand they aren’t here to hurt you.”
“Weren’t here to hurt us? I sent one of my best and most skilled stalkers to watch them, to keep me apprised of their actions. Not half a day ago they nearly killed him.”
“You’ve taken me and they don’t know why! And then you send someone to stalk them? You can’t say you wouldn’t do the same in their place. You took me for the very reason they are coming for me. Because they care about me. They are good people. They only want the best for everyone.”
“The Adversaries are enemies of the D’Karon!”
“And the D’Karon are enemies of our world, Reyce. You don’t know the truth about them. They orchestrated a war in my home. It lasted for over a century. The lives lost… they all but usurped the throne of the Northern Alliance and conjured an endless horde of monstrous warriors to attack the south. They were hoping to weaken both sides until they could open the door for more of their kind to sweep through and conquer the world! They are agents of other gods. Reyce, the D’Karon were evil.”
Reyce gave her a hard look. “Do not speak such blasphemy in the village that owes its existence to their gifts, Ivy.” He crossed his arms. “I have questions for you. Questions about your ‘friends.’ Will you answer freely? Will you answer honestly?”
“Of course.” She matched his pose. “I have nothing to hide. And they have nothing to fear from you.”
“Nothing to fear from us? Do you really think so little of your race?”
“I think so highly of my friends. Together we defeated the D’Karon. We ended a war.”
He hammered the wall. “I will not hear it! The D’Karon are not to be defeated, and could not be defeated. But I haven’t got the time or inclination to debate you on such matters. Nehri is our priestess. In time she shall set you straight. If there is even a fragment of hope for you, we will see you brought back into the fold, onto the path of truth. You are a malthrope. You deserve nothing less. But right now, I want to know about the rest of your party. What can I expect from them?”
“Myranda is a wizard, and so is Deacon. If one of them isn’t the finest wizard to have ever lived, then the other certainly is. Myn is a dragon, strong and true. She would do anything for us, practically a daughter to Myranda and practically a sister to me. You’ll never find another creature as mighty and as loyal and as sweet and kind as Myn. The other dragon is Garr, and his Dragon Rider is Grustim. No one knows more about dragons than Grustim, and Garr has finer training than any dragon in the world. We have faced undead hordes. We have faced armies. We have faced fierce creatures, and D’Karon creations. If you’d seen the monsters the D’Karon made, the monsters me and my friends destroyed, you wouldn’t dream of calling the D’Karon good.”
“Ivy,” Reyce fumed, voice shaking with barely controlled anger. “If you will not speak of the D’Karon with reverence, do not speak of them at all.”
“Gladly.”
“What will it take to turn your friends away?”
“They won’t turn back. Not while you have me. If you want them to stop, you have to let me go. Let me talk to them.”
“I cannot risk releasing you. Though you do not know enough to lead them here, after all that we’ve done to shield Den from discovery, I cannot abide you leaving this place having seen it.”
“It wouldn’t matter if you did. No one is smarter than they are, and if they learn about whose magic you’re using, they’ll stop you. What you need to do is be open to them. Talk to them. They’ll listen.”
“You would have me negotiate with agents of the elves, with the foes of our patrons? No. I have come too far to submit now.”
“There is nothing else to be done. They don’t want to hurt you. You have to trust that there is a peaceful solution.”
“Peaceful? A peaceful solution between the malthropes and the other races? You, who come from a place where none has survived but you?”
“But I have found peace with them. I am a diplomat at home, an ambassador. It isn’t perfect, there is a long way to go, but I walk among them without fear. The elves sought my help. Reyce, I know all too well what sort of a past you and the others must have had, but I’ve also seen Dusand. Your hands aren’t clean.”
He lowered his head, regret of his dark deeds hanging over him like a shadow. “No… No my hands are not clean. But that is all the more reason for them to refuse anything resembling peace. After what we have done, they would be fools to offer it. Why should they accept a hand
extended in friendship? And why should we be the ones to extend it?”
“Because it has to start somewhere. In order for things to change, people need to be willing to change. Blood always leads to more blood. The only thing that can lead to peace is friendship. If you battle my friends, and you don’t give them a chance to help you, you will fall to them, and I desperately want to keep that from happening.”
He clenched his fist and tightened his jaw briefly. “We captured you. We’ve kept you here. We are more powerful than you think.”
“You captured me because I was taken by surprise. I never expected to see another malthrope, and I didn’t know what to make of it when I had. And you’ve kept me here because staying here is the only way I could learn the nature of this place and its history. Now I’ll stay because it’s my only chance to talk some sense into you. But I assure you, if I think my friends need me, I will go to them. You won’t be able to stop me.” She leaned forward, her voice bordering on threatening. “You don’t know what I’m capable of, what I really am. And I hope you never find out.”
“You haven’t learned what we are capable of either. But you will find out. Everyone will. Come.” He turned to the doorway. “Follow.”
He walked out into the village, Ivy in tow. His guards followed close behind.
“You say you have dragons. The mightiest of dragons. I have seen them. And if you believe yours are the mightiest, then you don’t know what true power is.” He pointed to the edge of the village. “Do not look away. Boviss! Flame!”
A low rumble rippled through the town, then a rush of flame roiled over the village. The heat, even as far into the village as they were, was scalding. Brilliant orange light flooded the village and offered a glimpse of Boviss in all of his terrible glory.
The Crescents Page 19
