The Great Betrayal (The Lost Prophecy Book 8)

by D. K. Holmberg

  “Do you remember what we did to save you?” she asked the groeliin.

  “You had to break me to bring me peace.”

  “We had to capture you,” Isandra said. “We had to take you to a place where there was enough power for me to help you. I don’t know of a place like that here.” She glanced at Jassan, and he shook his head. He didn’t know this part of the mountains nearly as well as he had the section of the mountains where they had helped the groeliin.

  “There is such a place.”

  She glanced back once more, frowning at the groeliin. “A place like the one where we helped you?”

  “There is such a place,” the groeliin said again.

  If she could find a place like that, the next step would be finding a way to capture them one at a time.

  “We would need your help,” she said.

  “They are my clan,” the groeliin said.

  “Does that mean you will help?”

  “I will do what is necessary to help them.”

  “Show us a cavern like the one where you were healed,” Novan said.

  The historian had not spoken much to the groeliin, and Isandra had the sense that it troubled him that he should be able to do so. She still had her connection to the groeliin, the manehlin having mingled, remaining connected. Would it stay like that indefinitely? Or would there be a change, some way for her to separate the groeliin’s connection to her?

  She wasn’t entirely certain that was what she wanted. Having that connection allowed her to understand the groeliin. If that connection faded, she would no longer be able to speak to the groeliin, would she?

  “You will have to follow,” the groeliin said.

  It started down the side of the mountain, and Isandra began to follow, but Jassan grabbed her wrist, slowing her. “I don’t know that we can trust this creature,” he said.

  “It hasn’t given us any reason to not trust it.”

  “Other than the fact that it is a groeliin?”

  “That’s not a reason not to trust. It’s been healed. If you would try to connect to it, if you would use your manehlin, you would be able to speak to it, as well.”

  Jassan looked over at the groeliin as it made its way down the rock, remaining concealed and separate enough from the others that it at least would not place them in danger—yet.

  “I don’t know that I want to speak to that creature.”

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “I believe you, Isandra. I believe that you think to understand. That is what drew me to you from the very beginning. You have a mind that wants nothing more than to understand the things that are taking place around you. But I fear that you are giving these creatures much more credit than they deserve.”

  “I’m not giving it any more credit than it deserves, I’m giving it the necessary credit so that I understand as much as I can.” She placed her free hand on top of Jassan’s. “Imagine if this works,” she told him. “Imagine if we are somehow able to help the groeliin and if we can somehow change them so that they are no longer a threat to us. What would happen if we could restore an entire clan of groeliin?”

  “How long would that take?” Jassan asked. “I know how long it took you to do what you did with these two, and I know how weakened you were. What happens when you try to do the same with another?” He looked down toward the groeliin congregated far below them. “There are dozens of the large groeliin—the kind that took you more effort than the smaller one. Do you think you can somehow work your way through them, saving them before they manage to either attack us or continue onward?”

  She sighed. “I think that I have to try.”

  Novan had been watching them, and nodded, scrambling down the rock face to follow the groeliin.

  “Please, Jassan. Help me with this. What better way would there be to serve the gods than to return their creatures to them?”

  He considered her for a long moment before letting out a soft laugh. “You will turn my faith against me, will you?”

  “No. I would never do that. I would have you use your faith to make everything around you stronger.”

  He nodded and released her arm.

  Isandra started down the side of the rock, making her way toward the groeliin. Novan was farther ahead of her—enough so that she had to hurry to catch up to him. When she did, she noted that he was staring at a spot farther along the mountain from her.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Can you sense it?”

  “Sense what?”

  “I think I understand what the groeliin intends for you to see.”

  “What is that?”

  Novan shook his head. “Come with me. This is better for you to see.”

  They continued down the rock, and an opening appeared. Isandra paused outside but sensed her connection to the groeliin inside it. This was where the groeliin had gone, and this was where she needed to go.

  But there was something else that she detected, and she thought this something else was what Novan had wanted her to be aware of. There was pressure, and she didn’t know if it was pressure upon her senses from the groeliin and its manehlin, or if this came from some other source.

  It took a moment for her to realize that it was teralin.

  “It’s all negatively charged,” she said.

  “You feel it,” Novan said.

  “I didn’t know what it was that I was detecting, but now that I do… I feel it.”

  Why would the groeliin bring her to this place? Why would the groeliin want her to come to a place full of negatively charged teralin—unless it was using this as some way to harm them.

  She didn’t think that was the case.

  Isandra started forward.

  Novan followed, but he tapped his staff as he went, a soft sound that reverberated off of the rock. As he did, she felt a pulsing of energy. The teralin began shifting, slowly at first, and then with increasing speed.

  “You’re changing the polarity?”

  “If we are trapped here, I want to have at least been prepared.”

  That made sense. “I can help,” she said.

  Novan shook his head. “I think you could, but I think you would be better served conserving your energy. If we need you—and I’m concerned that we might—you will need to be able to use your connection to shift the groeliin.”

  She nodded.

  As they continued into the cavern, she finally saw the groeliin waiting near the end. The walls of the cavern had been decorated. There were shapes carved into the rock, and markings that looked almost like letters. A pile of bones rested in one corner. There were scraps of fabric that might have been clothing.

  “What is this place?” she asked the groeliin.

  “Home.”

  Novan tapped his staff twice, sending a surging of energy away from him and into the walls, shifting the polarity as he did. “Home?” he asked. “The groeliin have a home?”

  “My kind has a home, Mage.”

  Novan started to smile and shook his head slightly. “Why bring us here?”

  “This is where you will help my clan.”

  “How? How is it that you think we can help your clan from here?” Novan asked.

  “You will do what you did before.”

  “I need a focus,” Isandra said. “I need something more than his staff, or my sword. When we helped you, there were a dozen swords. I used them to augment my abilities. That was how I was able to help you.”

  “If you need swords, I get swords.”

  Isandra glanced to Novan, and then she nodded.

  The groeliin returned with a collection of blackened teralin blades. As he set them down, she pressed through her connection to the manehlin, using it to pulse through the groeliin, searching to ensure the creature was still unharmed. As far as she could tell, there was no injury to the groeliin, despite the fact that he had carried the teralin blades.

  “Where did you get these?” she asked.

  “We have many
blades. The master wanted us to fight. The strongest of us survived.”

  “You were forced to fight?” Isandra asked.

  “We fight. That is how the master determines which of us will be able to be something else.”

  “What else?” Novan asked.

  Jassan had joined them but remained against the wall. He had hesitated entering until he realized they had changed the polarity of the teralin, and that there wasn’t anything for him to fear within this room.

  “There are some of my kind with greater power. They are chosen by the master, and they are given great gifts. It is considered a great honor for them to be chosen.”

  “What happens when they are chosen?”

  “Pain.”

  “Why pain?” Isandra asked.

  “Because there is change. As we have said, change requires pain.”

  “Not always.”

  Isandra turned her attention back to the swords. She realized they would be able to change their polarity and turn them into the positively charged—creative—teralin. There were well over a dozen swords, plenty for her to use so that she could draw her focus from the staff and then through the swords.

  An idea came to her. “Are there any of your kind”—she hesitated saying groeliin, not knowing what word they used to describe their kind—“who are able to change the polarity of teralin?”

  The groeliin watched her and then shook his head. “I don’t know what this means.”

  “Are there any of your kind who can use this metal?”

  The groeliin stared at the swords lying on the floor of its home. “We have some who can call to the metal. They are exalted among us.”

  Isandra wasn’t surprised. “Are you able to do this?”

  “I have never had any talents with calling to the metal. My gift is fighting.”

  There had been a time when Isandra would have believed she had different gifts, but that had changed for her since her connection to the Magi abilities changed. Now, she was able to still reach her Magi abilities, but she also had another connection, one that she couldn’t quite explain.

  “What about now?” she asked the groeliin. “Have your abilities changed since you found peace?”

  The groeliin stared at the swords, and she sensed him push out with his manehlin, reaching toward the swords. “I do not know. I cannot tell whether anything has changed for me other than the peace.”

  Novan picked up one of the swords, and he closed his eyes. With a surge, the sword shifted, becoming positively charged.

  He set the sword down and looked up at the groeliin. “Did you feel anything there?”

  The groeliin grunted. “There was nothing.”

  “I don’t see how this is going to work,” Jassan said. “Even if you presume that you can use the cavern and you can use the swords, you somehow have to capture one of the groeliin and bring it within these walls. How do you intend to do that?” He spoke to the groeliin, but Isandra didn’t know whether the creature had understood.

  The groeliin tipped his head to the side. “I will bring them here.”

  “Did you understand that?” she asked Jassan.

  Had Jassan made a connection to the groeliin? Had he actually done what she had asked of him, forging that connection so that he would be able to communicate with the groeliin? She wouldn’t have expected it of Jassan, but maybe he had.

  “I understood.”

  “You have to bring them one at a time,” Isandra said.

  “I can. As I said, my gift was fighting. I was close to being raised by the master.”

  The groeliin took the sword Novan had shifted to the positive polarity and started out of the cavern, leaving them staring after him.

  “I’m still not sure this is a good idea,” Jassan said.

  “If we manage to find one of the groeliin who can call to the metal,” Isandra said, “we might be able to teach the groeliin how to shift them, how to change the polarity, so that they can help themselves.”

  “I don’t know whether that will make a difference,” Novan said. “What you’re suggesting means that all of the groeliin will need to react the way this one has. I’m not certain we can expect that.”

  Isandra wanted to argue, but she didn’t have the chance. The groeliin appeared, dragging one of the other larger groeliin with it.

  “How did you…” Jassan started, before catching himself.

  “My gift is fighting,” the groeliin said. He looked at Isandra as he did, and considered her with a dark intensity in his eyes. There was no anger, no judgment, only his focused attention on her.

  If this groeliin had been gifted to fight, she had managed to best him, and she had been the one to defeat him.

  “Drag him to the middle here.” Novan began moving the swords out of the way, shifting the polarity of each one as he did. He nodded to Jassan. “Place them in the ground like they were before.”

  Jassan took the first sword from Novan and slammed it into the stone. By the time they were done, there were thirteen swords placed in a circle.

  Would it be enough? Would she be strong enough?

  The large groeliin carried the other one to the center of the swords and set it down, then stepped out and waited.

  Isandra took a deep breath and reached for Novan’s staff. She would need it as a focus, the same way she had before. She began, pushing her manehlin through the staff and then out to the swords, and then into the teralin walls of the cavern. The cave acted as a better focus than the one they had used before, and she began pushing on the barrier within the groeliin, encountering another massive boulder as she had before, with a pressure that she feared she might not be strong enough to overcome. She continued to press, and it began to tremble.

  With another surge, the barrier within the groeliin began to weaken. The groeliin hissed, a painful sound, and it began thrashing.

  “You need to hurry,” Novan said. “If it manages to escape…”

  Isandra ignored him and continued to push, the boulder slowly tumbling, much more slowly than she wanted. She shoved, feeling the resistance, and finally overcame it, managing to push past what had happened, the boulder surging downhill, energy tumbling with it.

  The groeliin continued to thrash and hiss.

  Isandra withdrew her connection to the manehlin, pulling out of the walls, and out of the swords, but maintaining it within the staff.

  She was not as tired as she had been when she had done the same thing before.

  Had the fact that she had done it once made it easier? Or was there something else? Was it the structure of the cave that made it easier for her?

  There was no answer.

  Isandra breathed out a relieved sigh.

  “It’s done.”

  Novan pressed out with his connection to the manehlin, sending it surging through the groeliin. “I believe it is,” he said.

  “I will gather another,” the groeliin said, and then disappeared outside of the cave, leaving Isandra wondering how many they could change.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Jakob shifted north, taking Malaya and Paden with him. Both were now armed with swords, dressed in clothing they had found within the Tower, giving them something of a more formal appearance, one that would make them appear more like gods.

  It was unintentional, but perhaps it would serve a purpose.

  He still felt the uneasiness that he had experienced in the strange vision he’d had after he’d visited Raime’s strand. What had he seen? Whoever had drawn him back had been powerful, possessing more strength with the fibers than Jakob did, and an ability to force him back and into another’s strand. Even then, that person had been fully aware of Jakob’s presence, making it so that he could not remain hidden as he had intended. And then there was the strange way the host had moved, streaking across the land, and somehow jumping over an entire ocean.

  Perhaps none of it had been real. Perhaps it truly had been a vision, a dream, but Jakob didn’t think so. Visions like th
at did not happen. Not in his experience. Especially given the way he had been tossed into the fibers—and then out once more.

  “Where are we?” Malaya asked.

  Jakob nodded to the city in the distance. The buildings were made of simple stone and blended into the landscape, a sprawling collection that was much larger than he once would have believed existed in the far north. Smoke rose from dozens of chimneys. A soft northerly breeze carried that smoke toward the mountains, reminding Jakob of the smoke and steam from his vision. “This is a place called Farsea.”

  Malaya looked over to him. “I don’t know of this place.”

  “It’s Antrilii.”

  “The Antrilii have cities?” Paden asked.

  “They have cities. They are more than what most have ever understood. They have served to protect all of the north from the groeliin for a thousand years.”

  “Is that why you brought us here?” Paden asked. “Do you intend for us to fight the groeliin?”

  He sounded troubled, which didn’t surprise Jakob. Paden and Malaya had developed enough skill with looking along the fibers that they both had begun to realize the damahne view on violence. It was a view Jakob still didn’t share and wasn’t certain that he could share, but it was one he understood.

  “I don’t think it’s necessary for you to fight the groeliin,” he said.

  “Then why have you brought us here?” Paden asked.

  “Is this about the historian?” Malaya asked.

  Jakob nodded. Novan was here—somewhere. He could detect his connection to ahmaean in the north, though there was something about it that felt strange. More than that, there was another connection to ahmaean that he detected nearby, and it intrigued him. It was not damahne, but it also was not Magi. He didn’t fully understand what it was.

  “Novan is here, and I think he will know something that will help me.”

  “And this something has to do with these groeliin?” Malaya asked.

  Jakob nodded. “We have to deal with the groeliin before we can confront Raime.” And his brother, though Jakob was reluctant to admit that. Only once the groeliin were dealt with did he think they would be able to address the next threat. But as of right now, he didn’t know how he would deal with the groeliin. There would always be the threat of another attack, and that put everyone who would help him into danger. The Antrilii fought, but eventually, there would come a time when they wouldn’t be able to fight anymore, wouldn’t there? From what he’d seen, the groeliin continued to grow stronger and continued to pose an increasing threat. How much longer would it be before powerful groeliin like the ones he had destroyed returned?