Darkblade Seeker: An Epic Fantasy Adventure (Hero of Darkness Book 4)

by Andy Peloquin

  "But you take no part in his…amusements?" The Hunter hid his disgust at the demon's callous tone. The Sage spoke of the Warmaster's victims with the indifference of a shepherd selecting a lamb for the slaughter.

  The Sage shook his head. "I attend his banquets and pretend to enjoy the spectacles, but truth be told, I find no pleasure in the cruelties."

  The Hunter raised an eyebrow. I have a hard time believing that. Every Abiarazi he'd met reveled in death and slaughter.

  "But now that I have you, I can be rid of the Warmaster once and for all." The Sage gripped his shoulder. "I have watched you closely since your arrival, and I find myself impressed. You have the warrior instincts of your Abiarazi forefathers, but the bloodlust and savagery is tempered by your human side. You are clever, careful, and thoughtful, measuring each word and action. I can trust you with command of my army—our army—confident that you will do what needs to be done."

  "While you go to Enarium on a secret mission, one you will not reveal to me because it is better that I do not know?" Sarcasm tinged the Hunter's words. "You expect me to follow your commands without question."

  The Sage shook his head. "Of course not."

  The demon's unblinking stare pierced the Hunter, the intensity of the eerie gaze sending a chill down his spine. He crossed his arms and waited in silence.

  After a long moment, the Sage drew in a deep breath. "The Serenii designed Enarium as a conduit for their power. An entire city built to channel the energies they drew from within Einan itself! Truly, no creation on this world can compare to the glory of the Pristine City." The Sage's eyes took on a distant look. "Though millennia have passed since I strode its halls, I cannot forget the hum of power beneath my feet. It was as if the city itself was alive!"

  In Al Hani, Queen Asalah had said the same thing, her face mirroring the same desire that now gleamed in the Sage's eyes.

  "The Serenii chafed under the yoke of the gods. They wished to be free to rule Einan without interference. Thus, Enarium was created as a focal point for magick which, when harnessed, would empower them to bring down the gods. They used its power to summon us during the War of Gods. They taught us the ritual to create weapons like the one you wield. With their power, we were to feed the mighty Kharna, to fuel him in his war for dominion."

  His expression darkened to a scowl. "When the gods joined forces against Kharna, their combined might proved his undoing. Though he slew the cowardly Swordsman, he was imprisoned, his body twisted into the pitiful form of the Beggar God. But his time of imprisonment comes to an end."

  Fear flashed through the Hunter's mind and twisted like a dagger in his gut. He could only imagine the horrors that would once again be unleashed upon Einan should Kharna be freed. "And the power of Enarium will allow you to free him?"

  The Sage nodded. "Precisely. Centuries have gone into preparing for this day. Indeed, for years, all has been in readiness, save for one thing."

  "What's that?"

  "A reliable ally. Blood of my blood."

  "Bucelarii," the Hunter intoned. "You said you knew others, before they were eradicated by the Beggar Priests. What were they like, my kind?"

  "Driven." The Sage's gaze bored into the Hunter with piercing intensity. "They all had that same look I see in your eyes. Never belonging, ever looking for a place to call home. To every one of our offspring, I made the same offer. Join me, rule Einan at my side, as you were born to do."

  "So what happened to them?"

  The demon's eyes slid away. "They accepted and served faithfully. Right until the moment the Cambionari found them. One by one, they were eliminated, until none remained." He lifted his gaze to the Hunter's face. "Until you."

  The Hunter remained silent, absorbing this new information.

  "Know this, Hunter: what I tell you now is the ultimate confirmation of my trust in you. It is a secret I have not revealed to any, not even to my most trusted lieutenants." He took a deep breath. "To enter Enarium, I must become…" Revulsion twisted his face. "…human."

  The Hunter started. Whatever he'd expected the Sage to say, this wasn't it. "Because of the curse?"

  The Sage's eyes widened. "You know of that?"

  "It's why they're called the Empty Mountains, is it not?" In Al Hani, Queen Asalah had spoken of the curse, of how it twisted the Abiarazi, turning them into mindless beasts.

  "Indeed. Were I to attempt to enter, I would fall victim to the curse as surely as so many of my kind have in the past. Thus, I am forced to relinquish the last vestiges of my power."

  "You can do that?" The demons had assumed mortal form to hide from the gods. But to become fully human?

  The Sage nodded. "It is possible, though the agony of the process…" He shuddered. "I barely survived it the first time. It is not a prospect I relish, but I will do it because I must." His expression grew determined. "It is the only way to be reunited with my family."

  The Hunter's mind raced. "So you will give up your power, travel to Enarium, and somehow open a portal to your world? There is a flaw in your plan: even if you open the gateway to your world, you will still be human. Will you not be destroyed with the rest of mankind?"

  The Sage's face twisted. "Indeed. Which is why I must free the Great Destroyer first. He will restore to me my full power." He looked down at his hands with a sneer. "Not this pathetic form you see now. This is a fraction of what I once was. My true might will be returned to me. When Kharna once again summons the warriors from my world, I will have the power to bring my family to join me here."

  "But first you must give up that power." The pieces clicked into place. "Which is why you've waited so long. You do not trust the Warmaster to command the Elivasti in your absence. But now with me, a reliable ally, to lead the army…"

  "I can do what must be done." Fanatical fire burned in the Sage's unblinking eyes. "I can surrender my power, enter Enarium, and return the Great Destroyer to life. Einan will once again belong to the Almighty Kharna and his army of Abiarazi!"

  The Hunter narrowed his eyes. "How can you be certain Kharna will restore your power once he has returned? Can you truly expect to bargain with a god?"

  The Sage frowned. "I have wrestled with that same question for centuries. Truthfully, I cannot be certain of the outcome." The manic light blazed in his eyes. "But I have faith that my god will reward me for my sacrifice. I have given up a great deal in his service; it is only just!" He slammed a fist into the stone table.

  "May your faith be rewarded." The Hunter hoped the words sounded sincere.

  The Sage bowed his head and closed his eyes. After a moment of silence, he met the Hunter's gaze. The madness had fled, leaving only a faint desperation. "It is a risk, but one I must take. It is the only way to be reunited with my family. Surely you understand what a man must do for those that matter to him."

  "I do." The Hunter nodded. He knew the pain of loss, of loneliness. Farida had died in his arms. Bardin had been murdered before his eyes. It was a pain he sought to avoid above all else. He would suffer a lifetime of torture at the Warmaster's hand rather than feel that searing, ripping, piercing agony he'd felt as he knelt beside the Midden.

  But fear of pain could not drive a man. No, something more had impelled the Hunter. In Voramis, he'd taken in the beggars, lepers, the outcasts. Those like him. He'd acted on an instinct to save Hailen from the demon in Malandria, and found companionship. This, then, was what drove the Hunter to raise his hand against his kind: to protect those who could not protect themselves. The downtrodden, rejected, abandoned.

  The Sage would condemn an entire world to be reunited with his family. Therein lay the difference between them. The Hunter had killed dozens of bandits to protect Hailen. He would spill a river of blood if it brought him back to the woman that plagued his dreams—the one who carried his child. But he would not harm the defenseless, the innocent. He would never sacrifice his humanity to achieve his desires.

  The Sage straightened, and the sorrow faded from his eyes
. "Come, Hunter. I feel the need for fresh mountain air. Will you walk with me?" The demon threw an arm around his shoulder. "I have something I believe you will find most fascinating."

  The Hunter allowed the Sage to steer him away from the table, but in his mind he went over the placements of the red and black flags, committing them to memory.

  The Sage led him from the War Room and, after pausing to lock the door, through the passage to the stone stairs. But instead of climbing, he descended.

  The Hunter pointed upwards. "Isn't that the way out?"

  The Sage gave him a sly smile. "There is more than one way to traverse the halls of Kara-ket."

  The Hunter followed the Sage, aware of the two guards before and behind him, his mind racing as he absorbed the new information.

  The Sage doesn't just have an army of Elivasti at his disposal, he is one command away from taking control of every major city on Einan. The Sage's network had proven far more extensive than he'd expected. Though there were only a dozen or so Abiarazi—indicated by the red flags—the human agents were far more numerous. They would be far harder to track down and eliminate.

  The close air pressed in on him. The Sage's reek of rot and decay turned his stomach. His fingers itched to seize Soulhunger's hilt and plunge the dagger into the Sage's back. He reached for the blade, only to remember he no longer had it. Clenching his jaw, he forced his hands to relax and studied his surroundings.

  He couldn't kill the Sage yet. Without Soulhunger, he had no hope of surviving a battle with the iron-wielding Elivasti. And he needed the Sage's help to get into the Warmaster's temple to retrieve his blade. Once he had Soulhunger and the Warmaster lay dead, he would make his move.

  The Sage seemed unaware of his internal struggle. He stepped onto a landing, strode down the corridor, and passed through the wooden door his lead guard held open.

  Beyond the open door, the night sky beckoned. A cool wind swept into the passage, sending a chill down the Hunter's spine. The freshness of the night air accentuated the demon's reek of rot and decay. The Hunter found himself oddly relieved to be out of the cramped staircase with its depictions of horrors from a world long past. He took a deep breath, savoring the bite of the mountain breeze. His eyes roamed the lush garden, filled with perfectly manicured trees, marble statues, and stone pathways. At the far end, the ground dropped off suddenly into a cliff.

  Yet all thoughts fled at the sight of Hailen standing a short distance away, surrounded by four white and black-clad Elivasti.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Fury and anxiety roiled in the Hunter's gut. His fingers twitched toward his sword, but he forced himself to remain motionless. "What is this?" Cold fury tinged his voice. "Why is he here?"

  If they harm so much as a hair on his head…

  The Sage held up his hands in a gesture of peace. "He is here at my command." He pitched his voice low. "I had him brought here for safekeeping. Surely you will want him close at hand when the time comes to deal with the Warmaster."

  The Hunter's eyes darted back toward Hailen. The silent Elivasti stood in a protective stance around the boy, who had his back to the Hunter. He wasn't their prisoner; they escorted him. He nodded and willed his shoulders to relax. "Forgive my distrust. Mark it down to the scars left by your comrade, the Warmaster."

  "Of course. Think nothing of it." The Sage gave a dismissive wave. "If it is the only long-lasting damage remaining, I'll consider myself fortunate."

  The Hunter hesitated, studying the Elivasti with a wary eye.

  "Be at ease, Hunter. You need not fear the Warmaster here."

  Two stood at attention a short distance away, and the other four retreated—no doubt to cover the entrance to this cliffside garden. The Sage wouldn't take chances with his own life.

  "You're certain?" The Hunter had no fear for himself, but he wouldn't put Hailen in danger.

  The Sage nodded. "They are my trusted Elivasti. You are as safe here as in your own bed."

  The Hunter held his tongue.

  "Now, I brought you here for a reason." The Abiarazi smiled at Hailen—the expression twisted the Hunter's stomach. "But first, go to your boy. He'll be pleased to see you."

  The Hunter moved toward Hailen. The moment he stepped beyond the temple threshold, the shrieking in his head returned. “Kill them!” The demon's voice slammed into him with enough force to send him staggering.

  The Hunter's jaw tightened. The internal war proved more difficult every time he stepped foot outside the temple.

  The voice of his inner demon sought to fan the flames of his anger. “They are your enemies! They will harm the boy!”

  He refused to allow himself to be controlled. He was in control. Through a supreme effort of will, he raised the wall in his mind as the Sage had taught him. Slowly, the pressure in his head receded to a throbbing behind his eyes. He'd grown accustomed to that incessant pain over the last weeks. Since the Illusionist Cleric had failed to erase his memories. He almost regretted cutting the madman's ritual short. It would have silenced the voice. He would give a great deal to be shut of the presence in his head.

  But not my memories. Memories of Hailen, of Her. They were all he had.

  Once again in control, the Hunter continued toward Hailen. Excitement brightened the boy's face as he stared around. They stood amidst an army of stone statues. The silent figures around them were some of the greatest warriors in the history of Einan. King Gavril the Conqueror rode a magnificent warhorse, a greatsword held high overhead. Balrid the Giant wrestled with a mountain ape. Erriana the Red crouched beneath her shield. Sir Mildred Couradin knelt with her head bowed, two score arrows piercing her flesh.

  A smile twitched his lips as he studied the statue of Nasnaz the Great, first al-Malek of Al Hani. According to the demon in Aghzaret, he had been the warrior king. Just one more life he could not remember.

  The statue's features seemed vaguely familiar, though heavier and thicker than his. Did I really look like that? Queen Asalah had schooled him in his ability to shift his appearance, but he had yet to master it. I guess a few hundred years will change a man's appearance.

  The Hunter stepped out from behind a statue. "Hailen." He spoke in a quiet voice.

  "Hardwell!" Beaming, Hailen darted between the Elivasti. The Hunter pivoted as he swept the boy into an embrace, concealing his hands from view of the Sage and his Elivasti. The hug felt terribly awkward. Disentangling himself, the Hunter stood just as the Sage approached.

  "What do you think, boy?" the Sage asked. "Do you like my statues?"

  Hailen smiled up at the demon. "Oh, I love them! They're just like in the stories Ayden used to read us."

  A grin touched the Sage's face. "I'm glad."

  The Hunter suppressed the urge to seize Hailen and flee. Something about the Sage's expression set him on edge. Perhaps it was the way his smile failed to reach his eyes. He was keenly aware of the Elivasti behind him, keeping a wary eye on him. With Hailen here, he had to be careful of his words.

  "Hailen, why don't you take a look around? See how many you recognize."

  The boy grinned and sprinted off into the garden of statues. His piping voice echoed in the darkness as he called out the names of the figures.

  The Sage watched him go. "A happy one, isn't he?"

  The Hunter nodded. Hailen's presence in the garden set his senses on full alert. His eyes darted around, scanning every shadow for a hint of threat. The Sage's explanation for bringing Hailen here made sense, but could that be the real reason?

  He turned to the demon. "What is this place?"

  The Sage's brow furrowed. "In every city, there is a monument to the Swordsman, hero of the War of Gods, yes?" His lips curled up in a sneer of distaste. "When Kara-ket was first built, it was intended to be the greatest temple to the Swordsman. After his death, it served as his final resting place."

  The Hunter raised an eyebrow. "I was under the impression that the Temple of Heroes in Voramis held his bones."

>   The Sage snorted. "Of course the Adepts would have you believe that. Every city, the priests of the Swordsman claim theirs is the final resting place of the fallen hero. But tell me, Hunter, can a god truly die? Even the Destroyer remains alive, as you well know. What are the chances the cowardly Swordsman is actually dead? Can you honestly believe that the bones of a deity molder in some priestly vault?"

  The Abiarazi shook his head. "The Swordsman's body was slain by the Destroyer, but his essence lives on. The Serenii built Kara-ket to harness the raw power from the earth and sun. They claimed it was to gather enough power to return the Swordsman to life, but in all truth, they intended to use the power for themselves. Indeed, the chief architect himself laughed as he described how they had 'deceived the gods', as he said."

  "If that is true, then where is the power? And why have you not figured out a way to harness it?"

  A scowl twisted the Sage's face. "The accursed mold."

  The Hunter's jaw dropped, and he burst out laughing. "What? You're telling me mold defeated the greatest minds on Einan?"

  The Sage nodded. "When the mold grew across the face of the temple, it blocked the Serenii magick somehow. What was intended to be the greatest source of power on Einan is nothing more than twin lumps of stone. Beautiful, but as inert as a lump of clay."

  The Hunter pondered his words. "And that is why you cannot use Kara-ket in your efforts to bring back the Great Destroyer. Without that power, it is useless."

  "Indeed." The Sage's scowl deepened. "I came to Kara-ket with the intentions of using the power of the twin temples to restore the mighty Kharna to life. Imagine my frustration at discovering that the temples were not only useless, but they housed the devotees of the god that had killed my master."

  "The Swordsman's priests. The Adepts."

  "The very same." His sneer turned into a gloating grin. "I derived a great deal of pleasure watching the Warmaster twist them to his own purposes. The coward's own believers, serving us. Delicious!"