The Great Betrayal (The Lost Prophecy Book 8)

by D. K. Holmberg

  “If you think you can do better—”

  “It’s not a matter of doing better,” Raime said. “It’s a matter of being careful.”

  That was the key to what he’d seen. He had learned how to create these explosions and knew they could destroy much. At first, Raime had wanted to temper the effect of the powders, trying to avoid destroying too much, but then he had his eyes opened to the truth of what was happening in the war—and the very reason for the war. Everything had changed for him at that point. If he could manage to be even a little cautious, he was confident he could execute the explosions himself without fear of being injured.

  He still didn’t agree with what these men were doing, but he recognized the efficacy. By forcing those within the faith to believe that Unbelievers were willing to destroy much of the cities and to believe the attacks were focused on the temples, it mobilized the Believers.

  These men were responsible for the war.

  There was nothing Raime could do to stop it, but he could understand, he could leave records.

  Was there anything more that he could share? Was there anything that he could do to help? He no longer knew whether he could be helpful in ending the war, but that was not his role. His role was to observe and to document. They were lessons the Guild had instilled in him from the very beginning. He should not intervene, despite his desire to do so.

  Document only. And he had seen much that was worthy of documentation.

  In time, he would need to do more, but for now, keeping his records, and ensuring they survived—possibly outliving him—was all that he needed to do.

  “What would you propose,” Benham asked.

  What should he suggest? There was a part of him that wanted the war to be over, but another part recognized that in order for it to be over—and for there to be lasting peace—there had to be an understanding of the power of the gods. Could that occur if the Unbelievers were allowed to assume any sort of power? Raime didn’t see how. They would need to be stopped, which meant that he needed to take an active role, and somehow, he would need to help those he had come with.

  That troubled him, but perhaps it shouldn’t. “I would propose that we make our way toward Shoren Aimielen.”

  Benham cocked his head, studying him.

  “That’s a dangerous place for men like us.”

  “Perhaps. Or perhaps it’s necessary.”

  Benham grinned widely. “Let’s go.”

  As he departed, Raime paused and hid one of his journals, marking the stone. It would be enough. It would have to be enough to ensure his observations survived.

  Jakob withdrew from Raime.

  Before stepping back into himself, he once more looked forward.

  The darkness—the emptiness along the fibers—remained.

  Was it closer?

  He was tired, so hopefully it was nothing more than his imagination, but what if they were running out of time to stop Raime?

  Chapter Nine

  When Jakob opened his eyes, returning to himself, sweat dripped down his brow. His hands clutched the hilt of his sword, and he sat rigidly in the teralin chair. The air in the room was stale, and his mouth was dry and sticky.

  How long had he been gone?

  It was often difficult for him to determine, but this time, he had searched through several niduses, trying to gain an understanding of Raime. All he had seen was that Raime was devoted to the gods and that he had once thought himself a devoted historian. Something had changed for him, but was it related to what he had experienced or was it something else?

  It took a moment for his eyes to adjust. Jakob took a deep breath, letting it out in a sigh. He looked around, wondering if the nemerahl had remained with him. She had been sitting next to him when he’d taken his place in the chair, but he doubted that she would have remained while he was gone.

  She was not there.

  Jakob struggled with what to do. So far, he had seen Raime in a different light. He was not the person that he knew in this time, though Jakob was not surprised by that. How could Raime have been evil his entire life? He had been a part of the Conclave, which meant that he would have once had a different connection to the damahne, as well as to the desire for peace.

  Even that surprised him. During the last look along the fibers, he had seen a shifting of Raime’s mindset. Raime had demonstrated a willingness to side with those who were more interested in destruction. Could this be close to the time he had begun serving another? Had Jakob witnessed the moment when Raime was beginning to shift toward the Deshmahne? But this war would have taken place long ago.

  What war was it?

  So far, Jakob hadn’t seen anything that would describe what war it was, but he had a recollection of cities that were destroyed. He could use that knowledge, and he could possibly go to Novan to see what the historian might know about the war, and which one it might have been.

  He would need more information, and now that he had some sense of what Raime had done, and the fact that he left copies of his journals scattered throughout the world, Jakob wondered if he would be able to use that, and if he could find those journals. If he could, he might gain a different insight about Raime that was even more than what he gained from stepping back within his mind and watching through his eyes.

  Jakob shifted, making his way to the main hall within the Tower.

  The library was quiet today. There were a few of the damahne sitting, flipping through pages in books. Few had spoken the ancient language before Jakob had awoken them, but some had more than a passing familiarity that came from their connection to the madness, and from what they had seen during it. Those visions had proven somewhat valuable and had given them insight that they otherwise would not have had.

  Malaya looked up when Jakob appeared. She smiled and stood to join him. “You seem more at ease than you were the last time I saw you.”

  “I don’t know that I’m so much at ease as I have begun to understand what I need to do.”

  “I thought you always knew what you needed to do. Didn’t it have to do with finding the High Priest and stopping him?”

  “It did. I’ve been walking back along the fibers trying to understand him better.”

  “By understanding him, do you think that you will be able to stop him?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve learned that he’s not the man that I thought he was. And knowing that might make it harder to stop him.”

  “How so?”

  “Because he was a historian.”

  She frowned.

  “When I was in Chrysia, I was apprenticed to a historian. He was the one who first took me from Chrysia, and helped me understand that there was much more to the world than what I knew. He was the one who set me on the path that I am now on. Without him…”

  “I recognize the connection you shared with him. I remember feeling a hint of it when you and I were connected.”

  Jakob nodded. Novan was more than a friend to him. It was a strange bond they shared, and it had changed in the days since Jakob had discovered the depth of his abilities, but Novan had been nothing but happy for him. Perhaps that happiness was more about what Jakob might be, and the fact that he would be of some benefit to the Conclave, but Novan had never made it seem that way.

  “You intend to go to him?”

  “He’s with the Antrilii trying to understand the groeliin.”

  “Those creatures…”

  “Most of them are not quite like what you encountered,” Jakob said.

  She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. “I dream of them.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She opened her eyes and shook her head. “It’s not like that. I don’t dream of the creatures that we faced. I dream of others, those that are smaller, and they seem as if they almost are calling to me. I don’t understand it, and I suspect it has more to do with the residual madness than anything else, but…” She shrugged.

  He wondered why she might be dreaming of the groe
liin. What was there that would cause them to have that connection? Was it about the madness, or was there something else?

  It was another reason for him to go to the Antrilii, to see what was taking place in the north. He needed to understand, and he needed to see what it was that Novan might have learned. The time to do so was long overdue.

  “What happens if we encounter others like that?” Malaya asked.

  Jakob tapped his sword. “We won’t be completely helpless. If we do, I’ll be there, and I have much more experience fighting.”

  “I can help.”

  Jakob hesitated. The damahne had never been fighters, but maybe that was part of the problem. They had avoided confrontation and had allowed not only the groeliin to evolve into the horrible and violent creatures that they had become rather than intervening and saving them when they could have, but they had allowed Raime to gain the power that he had gained. Had they intervened sooner, would they have been able to stop him?

  “Then I should train you.”

  “When?”

  When would there be time? That seemed to be what they had a shortage of. Not only with the coming darkness that he’d seen along the fibers, but because there seemed so much for him to complete.

  But if he didn’t have help, he would surely lose.

  “Why not now?”

  “I thought you wanted to find this historian.”

  “I do, but there is value in working with you and helping you realize what you might be capable of doing. I don’t know what we might encounter, and if my brother gets involved, he is a skilled fighter—at least he used to be. If he has a portion of that ability remaining, then all of you will need to be able to fight.”

  He should have been working with them all along, but instead, he had been focused on other things. They needed to be completed, but he also needed to take time to continue working with the damahne so that they understood the nature of their abilities—all of their abilities. That involved more than simply using their ahmaean. There were physical abilities, much like the Magi possessed, though Jakob—and others like him—would have stronger physical abilities, and those would allow them to engage much more than someone without them.

  Malaya nodded. “Where do we go?”

  “I have a place in mind.”

  He took her hand and shifted, pausing briefly in an upper level of the Tower to grab another teralin sword, and then shifted again.

  When they appeared, they stood in the heart of the Great Forest. Ahmaean swirled around them, and the stones had been left scattered, with no way other than using ahmaean to place them back into their positions. It was his way of preventing access by those who were not meant to have it.

  “Why here?” she asked.

  “This is another place of the damahne. It’s not nearly as protected as the Tower, but if you focus, you can feel the ahmaean swirling around you; you can recognize that there is much of our power here.”

  Malaya closed her eyes, and ahmaean pressed out from her. Her control improved each time she used it. She touched upon the trees, and the rocks, even stretching her ahmaean to the grasses. A smile began spreading across her face, and she drew upon the ahmaean, pulling it toward her, using it.

  “Not many damahne knew that they could pull upon the ahmaean around them,” Jakob said.

  “You knew it, so I think…”

  He nodded. How much of himself had he shared with her? He hadn’t intended to share too much, but by asserting himself, had he opened himself too fully to her? Would the same be true for Adam and for Paden? He had done the same with both of them, and both of them had gained an increased understanding of their ahmaean, but he hadn’t seen them display such control.

  He would need to work with them, but when would there be time?

  Perhaps he couldn’t go find Novan—not yet. He would need to help the damahne understand their abilities. He could take them with him and work with them along the journey, but it would only result in more questions and more conversations.

  There were other options, but they involved Jakob asserting control of the damahne once more, and involved him sharing more of himself. He didn’t enjoy opening himself up quite that way, but that was looking like the only way this would work.

  Jakob unsheathed his sword and stepped into a ready position. Malaya mimicked him. “How much of this do you recall from when I asserted control?”

  Her brow furrowed. “It’s difficult. The memories are there, but they’re faint, mixed with the madness. It seemed as if I could reach them, but I’m not entirely sure how.”

  Should Jakob assert himself now, and use that to help her?

  Maybe that would make no difference. She needed to learn, she needed the knowledge to be hers and not borrowed from Jakob.

  “I will teach you the way I was taught.”

  “Who taught you? It seems as if I should know, but I can’t quite remember.”

  “General Endric taught me.”

  Her eyes widened. He wasn’t certain whether she would recognize the name, but from her reaction, it seemed she did. “How were you able to train with the Denraen general? I didn’t think that you were a soldier originally.”

  Jakob shook his head. “I wasn’t a soldier.”

  “But he was willing to teach?”

  “Endric will teach all who are willing. I shouldn’t have forgotten that. And now, so will I.”

  “Endric was able to keep up with you?”

  Once, Jakob would have smiled at the question. “Endric hides a secret himself. He is descended from the Antrilii, who share abilities with the Magi. That gives him a different connection, and a different set of abilities.”

  Her eyes widened again. “It would explain why he was renowned for his swordsmanship.”

  Jakob nodded. “I will show you an attack, and then you need to repeat it. I will do this several times, and then you will be shown the defense.”

  Malaya nodded, and he could tell from the tension at the corners of her eyes that she was nervous, but there was a determined set to her jaw, too.

  Jakob led her through a basic catah, and she repeated it, demonstrating much more skill than she should have had she not had Jakob and his abilities within her memories.

  They progressed quickly, moving from catah to catah, advancing through them as he demonstrated first the pattern and then the defense. As he did, she gained an increasing confidence.

  Jakob enjoyed the sparring. Few provided him with enough of a challenge, and he enjoyed the fact that she was able to do so. Perhaps not so much now, but he was optimistic that she would develop and begin to challenge him.

  He lost himself as he sparred. His mind went blank as it had in those first few days when he was learning from Endric, but then he had been the student, now he was the teacher. There were still patterns that he could learn, and he was sure there was much that Endric could still teach him.

  After a while, she finally stepped back, retreating. Jakob lowered his sword, realizing that he had used a sharpened blade rather than a practice stave.

  What would have happened had he slipped? What would have happened had Malaya managed to get through his defense, and managed to cut him?

  It was unlikely, but he needed to be more careful. He could dull the blade using his ahmaean, and perhaps he should have done that. That might have been better than using a practice stave anyway.

  “What is it?” Malaya asked.

  “I just realized that I could have killed you.”

  “Thanks. I thought that I was doing reasonably well.”

  Jakob laughed. He wiped his arm across his forehead, smearing the sweat that had accumulated. “You did quite well—much better than I did the first time I used the sword. But normally when we practice, we do so with practice staves. We don’t often use sharpened blades.”

  Malaya looked down to her sword, and her eyes went wide. “What would have happened had you…”

  “I think that I have enough control that it shouldn’t ha
ve happened, but next time, I’ll make certain that we wrap our swords in ahmaean to blunt the blade. That is, if you want to have another sparring session.”

  She nodded. “I would like that. I need to know how to protect myself.”

  Jakob sheathed his sword and took a deep breath. “You should know that the damahne of the past did not view themselves as soldiers. When I walk the fibers, I have the sense from one of the damahne that they don’t care for the fact that I have taken up the sword—or that I have used it to kill.”

  She took a deep breath and studied her sword for a moment before looking back up to Jakob. “Do you think those ancient damahne knew everything there was to know about their abilities?”

  It was an interesting question. Had Jakob been asked even a few months ago, he would have thought that they had known everything about their abilities, but he was beginning to understand that the damahne still were learning. There were things that they hadn’t known, and things that Jakob was just now discovering, many things that had made him better equipped to walk the fibers, and even step outside of the fibers, so that he could help these new damahne.

  Would Shoren have been able to help Malaya and rescue the others when they were captured by the powerful groeliin?

  It was possible that he would not.

  Jakob didn’t know why he was able to do these things, and whether it had something to do with him having been granted ahmaean from Alyta—the last of the damahne at the time—or whether it had to do with what Raime had done with the fibers. Raime had caused changes, and it was possible that those changes had forced Jakob to develop skills that he otherwise would not have had—or have needed.

  “They did not. They were powerful—they had to have been for others to believe them to be gods—but there were things about their abilities that even they had not yet discovered.”

  Malaya looked back down to her sword, studying it for another moment. “I think that I would like to continue learning from you. The groeliin will fight with swords, and if we encounter others like us who have been turned, I want to be able to defend myself using something other than my connection to ahmaean.”