The Great Betrayal (The Lost Prophecy Book 8)

by D. K. Holmberg

  “I’ve never doubted that. I’m just amazed at how quickly you were able to rebuild.”

  “What choice did we have?”

  Brohmin looked around him, and it seemed as if he wanted to say something, but he held back.

  “I brought Jostephon here,” Jakob said to Brohmin.

  Salindra looked over. “Jostephon? You brought the Eldest here?”

  “The Eldest converted to the Deshmahne,” Jakob said.

  “And we’ve seen the Deshmahne are not all that we thought they were.”

  “Perhaps not all of them, but many serve Raime as Jostephon does, and we need to prevent them from harming any others. I removed the influence of Jostephon’s markings, but even without them, he remains powerful simply because of his Mageborn gifts.”

  “Where is he?” Brohmin asked.

  Jakob pushed out with his ahmaean, searching for the connection to Jostephon. The Eldest had to be here somewhere, and there was a limit to how far he could travel within the trees, confined by the ahmaean of the forest.

  As he searched, he came across his brother, but not Jostephon.

  Jakob glanced over to Anda. “Where would they have taken him?”

  “We would not have taken him from here. You asked us to keep watch, and we would not have violated that request.”

  “I don’t think you violated anything, I just wonder what might’ve happened to him.”

  She hurried off, disappearing into the forest. As she did, Jakob made his way toward Scottan. He found his brother sitting at the base of a tree, his eyes closed. The last time his brother had been with the daneamiin, Jakob had remained hopeful that he could be healed. It was a bitter irony that he saw his brother with the daneamiin again, but knew there was nothing they—or he—could do to help his brother.

  “The great Jakob Nialsen has returned,” Scottan said without opening his eyes. Faint traces of ahmaean swirled around him, though it was more translucent than it had been around him before. There was less strength to it, as well. Was the forest stealing his ahmaean? Or was the fact that Jakob had countered the Deshmahne branding what had changed something for his brother?

  “Where is the Eldest?”

  Scottan opened his eyes and grinned at Jakob. “Did you lose someone? I didn’t think that the great Jakob Nialsen could lose anyone.”

  “Where is he?”

  Scottan laughed darkly. “Even if I knew, I would not share with you, Jakob Nialsen.” He said his name as a sneer. Each time he did, it caused pain to work through Jakob. This was his brother—the man Jakob had most wanted to help. He would have sacrificed anything to save him. And yet there was nothing he could do. Scottan had changed so much that there was no salvation for him.

  “Did he leave here?” Jakob asked.

  “Leave? How ever could he leave? You made certain of that when you placed us in this forest, with these trees, and these creatures, and—”

  “Enough!” Jakob roared.

  Scottan grinned. “Do I frustrate the great Jakob Nialsen? I thought you could never be frustrated by your favorite brother.”

  Jakob refused to allow Scottan to bait him. “There was a time when I thought you were my perfect brother. That was before I knew just what you are.”

  Scottan sat up. “And what is that?”

  “You’re worse than the Deshmahne I once feared.”

  “You should still fear the Deshmahne.”

  “I don’t think so. The true Deshmahne believe in strength and think to display that for the gods. But they aren’t people to fear. There are Deshmahne who have taken those beliefs to an extreme, such as Raime, and Jostephon. Those are the Deshmahne that I will stop.”

  “You’re too late. Jostephon has been freed, and now, he will ensure that the Highest knows what you plan.”

  “What I plan? All that I plan is to stop him.”

  “By helping these half-breeds.”

  Jakob shook his head. “You refuse to understand them.”

  “I know how they’ve destroyed the purity of the power meant for others. I know that they were never meant to exist. The Highest has taught me that.”

  “And yet you follow someone who had stolen all the power he possesses.”

  “He has stolen it, but only because the others should never have had it.”

  “What of his attempt to steal from Alyta? She was damahne. Does your master believe that she should not have the abilities that she was born to?”

  Scottan glared at him. “You will not convince me of your nefarious intent. The Highest has seen to it that I know the truth. I have seen it. Everything you claim to know is wrong. He will restore purity to the ahmaean while you attempt to keep it dirtied.”

  Jakob stood and turned to Brohmin.

  “This is your brother,” Brohmin said.

  Jakob nodded. “This is my brother. When I restored the fibers, helping those who suffered from the madness, I discovered that most had abilities of the damahne. My brother among them. Unfortunately, it seems as if he converted to Deshmahne long before he fell victim to the madness.”

  “And you didn’t know?”

  “I never knew. I don’t think my father ever knew.”

  “But he knows Raime. The way he speaks of him means that he understands him. If he truly believes in this purity of ahmaean, maybe you can use your brother to help you understand what else Raime might do.”

  Jakob studied his brother for a long moment. Would he be able to determine Scottan’s connection to Raime? He had thought that using his brother’s connection to the fibers would be his way of understanding his brother, but the answer seemed to be even simpler than he had realized.

  He took a seat across from Scottan, then turned to Brohmin. “Keep an eye on me.”

  Brohmin narrowed his eyes and then nodded once. Jakob pulled upon the ahmaean of the forest, drawing it around him. The sense of the ahmaean came to him more fully, and he continued to pull on it, augmenting his own, as he drew it inward.

  He stepped outside of the fibers.

  Sitting within the Old Forest, there was a unique sense to what he did. This was the first place where he had intentionally walked forward along the fibers, and for him to be able to step outside of the fibers from here felt natural, yet it was also unique.

  Jakob surged across the strands until he found his brother’s.

  He noted several niduses and stared at them, trying to understand if there was some way for him to know which particular nidus was most important to his brother. There seemed no easy answer. All of them had power to them, and all of them had a certain sense of depth. How would he find a particular event without dipping into each one?

  Could he glimpse?

  When he followed along his own strand, he could glimpse the fibers, and doing so meant he didn’t need to send himself so fully back in time. He had never tried it on someone else, but the concept was the same. It seemed to him that he should be able to walk along the fibers, and glimpse back at events, and see what triggered his brother’s connection to Raime.

  Jakob touched the fibers. Use the barest sense, nothing more than a faint contact, and he was able to peer into Scottan’s strand. He would jump from nidus to nidus, using his touch to find the event that had led to contact with Raime.

  How would he know?

  The simplicity of the answer struck him.

  He had to search for where Scottan’s and Raime’s strands wove together.

  He didn’t need to peer into the strands, he simply needed to find their intersection.

  Before long, he saw how Scottan and Raime came together. For a while, their strands ran alongside each other, before diverging and then coming back together again.

  Had Raime influenced his brother that much? The nidus where he picked up on Raime’s contact was brighter than many of the others. That didn’t surprise him. Raime would be a pivotal event in his brother’s strand. Jakob chased along the strand, coming to where they first met. Then he plunged in.

&nb
sp; He retreated to the back of Scottan’s mind, looking out.

  They were not in Chrysia. At first, Jakob couldn’t tell exactly where they were, but it wasn’t the city. Was Scottan on one of his patrols? Could that have been where he first met Raime, and where he had first begun getting twisted?

  Jakob saw a deep valley, and it was one he recognized. He remembered a conversation with Novan here, a time when the historian had shared with him that this valley had long ago had a river flowing through it.

  “When will he get here?” Scottan asked.

  A man shrouded in a dark cloak laughed. “He’ll come. Are you frightened?”

  Scottan clenched his jaw before answering. “Shouldn’t I be?”

  “If you have half a brain.”

  “You wouldn’t want me if I didn’t have half a brain.”

  “We wouldn’t want you if you didn’t have the access you have. Your brain… that is of lesser importance.”

  Jakob sensed Scottan’s irritation, but he knew enough not to say anything that would draw additional attention to him.

  “I can’t be gone too much longer.”

  “Do you think he is not aware of this? He sees much more than you can see. He knows.”

  Scottan fell silent, and Jakob allowed himself to drift slightly forward within his brother’s mind. He did so just enough that he could detect some of the fear within his brother, as well as the excitement. As much as this seemed to terrify Scottan, he also longed for the promise of power. Now that he was here, now that he would finally see the Highest, he would attain all that he had been promised. After everything he had done, and all the secrets he had shared, it was time.

  When he came, Scottan barely detected it. It was the strangest sensation, a fluttering, like a breeze but with more pressure. His ears popped and he looked around, fear making his heart race.

  This had been a mistake. He had made a mistake.

  “This is him?”

  Scottan may not have recognized Raime’s voice, but Jakob had heard it before. It had changed significantly since he had been a historian. Time and the power that he commanded had given it an edge, and there was a hoarseness to it that had not been there before.

  “This is him. Are you certain this is the one you want?”

  “He’s the one I’ve seen. Don’t question, Agan.”

  Jakob had not heard that name before, and he wondered if he should recognize it. Was it one of the High Desh he had encountered before? Or was this a priest he had never met?

  “Of course, Highest. I only—”

  Raime jumped forward, and the pressure surged again, causing pain to throb through Scottan’s head.

  “You only thought to question.”

  Jakob helped Scottan deal with the pressure in his head, drawing on the trace of ahmaean within his brother.

  It was a mistake. As soon as he did, Raime turned to him.

  “Yes. This is definitely the one I seek. Did you feel that?”

  “I did not, Highest. I am not as sensitive to such things as you.”

  “Unfortunate. If you were, you would notice that he is everything that we hoped he would be.”

  “You can tell that from such a brief exposure?”

  “One day, you will also be able to detect that.”

  Raime approached Scottan, and a dark smile crossed his face. Where was the historian? Where was the man that Jakob had seen centuries ago? Was he so lost that there would be no chance for redemption?

  At this point, Jakob had to think there was not. He was much like Scottan in that way, in that he had gone too far toward Raime’s plan for him to be redeemed. As much as that pained Jakob, it seemed the truth.

  “Would you serve me?” Raime asked Scottan.

  Scottan bobbed his head. “Highest. I would live to serve you.”

  Raime’s lips peeled back into a smile. “Yes. I think that you would live to serve me. I will accept your service.”

  Raime started to turn away, and Scottan took a hesitant step forward. “Highest? I was promised—”

  Raime spun, and power slammed away from him, plunging into Scottan. “I know what you were promised. You will be given a great gift, but you must have patience.”

  Scottan bobbed his head. “Of course, Highest. I only wanted to remark upon the fact that—”

  “You are bold.”

  Scottan started to draw himself up.

  “I don’t care for bold. You have not earned the right to be bold around me. Do you think your boldness impresses the gods? Do you think you impress the gods?”

  “I only want to serve. I don’t know how else to do it.”

  “I will teach you. But you will need to be hidden. They cannot know of your presence.”

  “Why?”

  “Because when the day comes that we finally reveal ourselves, we must have men like you ready to demonstrate their strength. Are you able and willing to do this?”

  Scottan nodded enthusiastically. “Of course, Highest.”

  Raime turned to the other Deshmahne. “See that he receives the specialized marking.”

  “Yes, Highest.”

  With that, Raime was gone.

  Jakob retreated to the fibers. There was no doubt that Scottan served Raime, but there was nothing in that vision that told him what Raime might be planning, or how to find him.

  Jakob stepped into the fibers again. Now that he knew how to look for them, it was easy to find the way where their strands intertwined.

  When he found the next nidus, he plunged into it as he had before.

  He retreated to the back of Scottan’s mind.

  He needn’t have worried. Scottan was asleep. His body throbbed with pain, though Jakob couldn’t tell why. Something had happened to him.

  He lurched his brother awake, asserting control enough that he could look into what his brother saw and understand what his brother was experiencing.

  As he did, he realized that Scottan had been beaten. Did it have to do with the Deshmahne? Jakob couldn’t see how, though why else would his brother have been abused the way that he was?

  “You’re awake. Good. Where are they?”

  Scottan groaned. “You’ve got the wrong person. I serve the Ur.”

  Something struck Scottan’s side, and Jakob screamed out with his brother. “Do you? Is that the story you want to maintain? This will go easier for you if you tell the truth.”

  “I am telling the truth. I serve the Ur.”

  Scottan rolled his head to the side, and Jakob was surprised to see that the man beating Scottan was not a man at all but a slender woman, and she wore the Denraen uniform.

  He didn’t know any female Denraen, but that didn’t mean they didn’t exist.

  “I know that you serve the Deshmahne. I’ve been tasked with determining how deep your involvement is. How many of you are there?”

  “No. I don’t serve the Deshmahne.”

  Scottan started babbling, begging for his life, and Jakob retreated once more, letting his brother remain in control. What was taking place here? Why would the Denraen torture his brother? Why would the Denraen torture anyone? And who was this woman?

  Yet she was right. His brother did serve the Deshmahne, and somehow, he managed to withstand her torment. Was this some kind of test?

  The woman drew back her foot as if to strike him again, but she didn’t.

  Scottan sighed. “Please. You have to believe me.”

  “I don’t have to do anything. I know the Deshmahne have infiltrated the Ur. You have the stink of Deshmahne about you.”

  “I don’t know anything about the Deshmahne. All I know is that—”

  “All you know is that you serve them.”

  “I don’t. Ask my captain. I’ve been a faithful Ur—”

  The woman turned away. “I’ve heard the story before.”

  She departed, leaving Scottan whimpering. As soon as she was gone, he stopped. Power pulsed through him, drawn through tattoos that he had beneath his finger
nails. They were subtle, and Jakob couldn’t imagine the pain his brother must have experienced obtaining those tattoos. When the nail grew back, it obscured them, but that didn’t prevent Scottan from having access to his Deshmahne ability. It thrummed against his connection to ahmaean, but not so strongly that he could use it. So far, Scottan still hadn’t discovered his ability.

  Would he?

  If Raime had not enticed Scottan back then and had Jakob done nothing to heal him, would his brother have ever discovered his connection to ahmaean on his own?

  What about the others?

  The others hadn’t been branded the same way his brother had been. They wouldn’t have any other way of reaching ahmaean, not as Scottan now did.

  As Scottan pulled upon his ahmaean, his injuries began to heal. Not only did he know how to manipulate his ahmaean, he was gifted.

  There came a pulsing of pressure, and his ears popped.

  Scottan turned, and Raime stood beside him dressed in his familiar black robes. His eyes danced with flames. “You didn’t break.”

  “Did you think that I would?”

  “It has happened before.”

  “And?”

  Raime smiled darkly. “I think you know the answer to that.”

  “I serve, Highest. You don’t have to fear me breaking.”

  “Fear? You mistake my doubt for fear. I fear nothing.”

  “Why are they questioning me?” Scottan sat calmly, discussing his torture as if it had been nothing, when moments before, he had been whimpering as if he were dying. Jakob had thought he understood his brother before, but this man was nothing like his brother.

  “Because there’s one among them who thinks he can get to me.”

  “Why would he want to get to you?”

  Raime smiled darkly. “Because he’s a fool. Now, how much more do you think you can tolerate?”

  “As much as is needed.”

  “If you do this, you will be rewarded.”

  “I don’t seek an earthly reward,” Scottan said.

  “That doesn’t mean you can’t earn one.”

  Scottan nodded, and Raime sent a surge of pressure, as power burst away from him, and then he disappeared.

  Scottan lay back down, preparing himself for the next attack. It would be worth it. It had to be worth it. He would be rewarded for everything he suffered through.