The old woman reached out, her withered hand clutching Leesha’s with surprising strength. “You’ve done better than I ever could have, girl. You should be proud. My city is lost—perhaps forever. I don’t want your throne, for myself or Melny’s child, but I can help you here, if you’ll let me.”
With sunlight streaming into the room, Leesha could not read the Duchess Mum’s aura, but the sincerity in her eyes was enough.
—
“Alagai Ka,” Leesha said.
“Do not be so distracted by what you hope to see that you miss the adjacent symbols,” Favah said.
Leesha squinted, tilting her head to look from all angles. “New.” She pointed. “Birth.”
Leesha considered a moment. “Hatchlings? Young mind demons?”
Favah nodded. “What does this throw tell you?”
Leesha knew the old woman had already formed her own opinion. It was a test, as always. Sometimes they saw the same things in a throw. Sometimes Leesha made mistakes.
And sometimes, they saw completely different things that might both be right, depending on divergences.
Leesha studied the scattered symbols, fitting them together like a puzzle. “The mind that controls Angiers is sending hatchlings to the Hollow to pen us in while it consolidates power.” Already attacks along the outskirts of the greatward had increased, focusing on the boroughs with the weakest wards. What would happen when minds came and could direct those savage attacks into surgical ones?
Favah bowed. It was not so grudging for her as it was a few weeks ago. “I agree. If you are to get a force of any size out before Waning…”
“It must be soon,” Leesha finished.
CHAPTER 34
SPEAR OF ALA
334 AR
“Is the Spear intact, Par’chin?” Jardir demanded. “Does it still stand?”
“Ay. Gates still closed.” The words were choked. Could the Par’chin be weeping? “It’s perfect, Ahmann. Creator, it shines like the sun.”
“I must go,” Jardir said. “Now.”
“Of course, Uncle,” Shanvah said. “We will watch over the prisoner. Alagai Ka will not escape our captivity.”
Jardir nodded, and she turned back to the demon and her father as he began to remove his excess robes for the swim.
“Now, wait just a corespawned second!” Renna shouted. “ ’Fore you run off and leave me and Shanvah alone with Alagai rippin’ Ka, someone mean to tell me what’s the Spear of Ala?”
“The greatest csar ever built,” Jardir told her. “The Evejah teaches us it was the fortress Kaji himself built to stage and supply his assault on the abyss.”
Renna blinked. “Oh.”
Jardir continued to disrobe. “And so you see why I must go.”
“Don’t see,” Renna snapped. “Said yourself we don’t get lazy. Said yourself we stay together. No one gets left alone with the demon.”
“Sister,” Shanvah said. “This is the Spear of Ala…”
“Ent an idiot, Shanvah. I get what it is. I get why it’s important.” Renna turned her gaze on Jardir. “But it’s stood there three thousand years. Ent goin’ anywhere in the next couple hours, if that’s what it takes to play this safe.”
Jardir blinked, his eyes flicking to Alagai Ka and Shanjat. The demon looked smug, even in its chains. He blocked their words from the demon with the powers of the crown, but no doubt the creature could read lips, and guess much from their position.
Was this the moment Alagai Ka had been waiting for? For Jardir to be so focused on the Spear of Ala that his guard over the prisoner might lessen? Jardir remembered the demon’s last escape attempt. It was sudden, and though they were prepared, he took Shanjat and nearly had the better of all four of them.
He turned to Renna, and bowed deeply. “I apologize. Of course you are correct. Alagai Ka is our greatest charge. Thank you for reminding me to place the First War above my personal desires.”
“Ay.” Renna’s aura had been smoldering for a fight, and his sudden agreement unnerved her. “Welcome, I guess.”
—
Shanvah wore only her headscarf, veil, and bido as she swam deeper and deeper into the pool, harvesting the worms. Jardir could not help but be impressed at the amount of magic the creatures held, but he paced the water’s edge impatiently as she worked.
Shanvah’s aura was the dimmest and least likely to draw the worms’ attention. Wisdom dictated she be the one to clear the path. He and the Par’chin’s jiwah watched over the prisoner, but Jardir’s muscles were knotted, screaming at him to smash through the countless tons of rock and stand before the Spear of Ala.
“Creator,” Renna growled as she gnawed on one of the worms. “Tastes even better than your couscous.”
Jardir believed her. Her aura brightened as she ate, absorbing the worm’s stored power. It might be wise for all of them to feed when the way was clear, but even if Jardir could stomach the thought of eating these subterranean creatures, tainted by the abyss, he had no desire to eat. Only to reach the Spear.
One of the worms, desperately trying to return to the water, wriggled free of its shell and slithered toward Alagai Ka, who eyed it hungrily.
Shanvah had left most of her weapons in easy reach on the rocks, and Jardir snatched one of her throwing glasses, pinning the worm to the rock before the magic-rich creature could come close to the demon’s talons. Alagai Ka’s aura was weak, and for all their sakes, they must keep it so.
There was a splash, but it was not Shanvah who surfaced. The Par’chin gasped air as he waded out of the water. There were shallow lacerations on his skin, puckered redness, but his magic was strong, and already the marks were fading.
Jardir looked to his friend, but the Par’chin only had eyes for the demon, stalking Alagai Ka like prey. Roughly, he gripped the demon by the throat, dragging him to where Shanjat was chained and leaning the demon against him.
“Still alive,” the Par’chin growled.
Shanjat’s eyes flicked over his wet form. “Obviously.”
“That an attempt to kill me?” the Par’chin demanded. “You knew those worms were in the water.”
Shanjat smiled. “I answered your every question truthfully, Explorer. Blame yourself if you did not ask enough. I am your prisoner, not your friend.”
“Demons don’t have friends,” Renna growled.
“And we’re stronger for it.” Shanjat eyed Jardir. “No wasted sentiment leading to foolish action.”
“I was saved from foolishness by a friend, demon,” Jardir said. “And so your words hold no poison for me.”
Shanjat winked at him. “This time.”
The Par’chin straightened his back and took a deep breath, unclenching his fists as he let it out. He turned to Jardir.
“Move quick enough through the water, the worms that are left won’t have time to latch on to you. It’s a straight shot from here.”
Jardir nodded. He removed his cloak and stepped into the pool wearing only his crown and his bido, clutching the Spear of Kaji in both hands.
The moment he touched his spear to the water, he could feel it—the pull of the great csar, resonating with his very soul. He gathered power in his spear and dove, thrusting with his magic to fly through the water as easily as he did the air.
—
Jardir walked dripping from the pool, mindless of the spiny shells of the Par’chin’s harvest crunching beneath his bare feet. He knew nothing, felt nothing, but the Spear of Ala. It shone in the darkness, singing with glorious power. He fell to his knees at the sight.
It was true.
The holy scripture of the Evejah had guided the lives of his people for millennia. No doubt the clerics added flourishes over the years, inflating what was already glorious, or serving some political agenda, but the heart of everything he and his people believed was true, and before him was the proof. Kaji had been here, to this very place, and built a bastion against the darkness that had stood for more than three thousand years.
It called to him, in much the way the Par’chin had described the call of the Core. The Crown of Kaji throbbed at his brow, a key hungry to enter a lock too long bolted. Inside those walls, his power would be like the Hand of Everam Himself, and woe befall the foe that should try to stand against him.
Shanvah broke the surface soon after, coming to kneel beside him, mindless of their unclad bodies. “Deliverer.” Her voice was a whisper.
Jardir took her hand, squeezing gently. “Niece.” He would have said more, but what words could convey what their senses were telling them? Her lips moved in silent prayer, and he joined her.
Everam, if ever I was your chosen servant, grant me strength and worthiness in the days to come. Give me the power to succeed where even great Kaji could not. If not through force of legions… He squeezed Shanvah’s hand again.…then through the trust and support of the companions beside me, Your chosen ones.
There was a ripple in the water behind them, and both were on their feet in an instant as Shanjat emerged, carrying Alagai Ka on his back. The demon hissed and averted its eyes at the sight of the Spear of Ala. The demon was not so bold now, in the face of Everam’s power.
Moments later Renna am’Bales appeared in the pool. “Arlen’s haulin’ the baggage. Be along shortly.”
Jardir nodded, advancing on Alagai Ka. “What do you know of this place?”
“It is cursed,” Shanjat said. “Haunted. You will find no respite here.”
“Spare me your lies and dissembling,” Jardir growled. “The gates remain locked. I can sense it from here. The fortress still stands. How can this be so?”
“We waited,” the demon said. “Waited for the One, your Kavri, to return to the surface to levy more drones to the fight.”
Jardir gripped his spear so tightly his knuckles whitened. “And then?”
“Our workings could not touch the greatward of your ancestor’s csar,” Shanjat croaked, “but we gathered our magics and collapsed the tunnel he marched his forces through. Smashed the bridges. Destroyed his supply. By the time Kavri’s armies returned to the vent, the way was shattered and we cut them apart, leaving his warriors trapped below.
“Oh, how he railed against us! How he struggled to return to them, to…” Shanjat’s smile was evil, “deliver them. But it was doomed to failure.”
“And the men inside?” Jardir asked.
Shanjat shrugged, as if it were of no import. “Cut off from support, it was a simple matter for the drones to retake or collapse the lower tunnels, whittling away their sallies until they were too weakened to fight on, and sealed the gates forever.”
Jardir’s chest constricted, and he realized he was holding his breath. “So there may yet be survivors.”
“They starved to death long ago, or were eaten by the war dogs.” Shanjat showed his teeth. “An ugly, honorless death, either way. Perhaps they were wise enough to simply fall upon their spears.”
“They could have eaten holy couscous.” Jardir knew he was grasping at sand, but he could not help himself.
Shanjat snorted. “For five thousand years?”
“If there were women…” Surely the csar had priestesses to cast foretellings, at least.
Shanjat gave a cruel laugh. “Even the legendary whoring of the dama’ting would not be up to such a task.”
Shanvah tightened her grip on her spear at the blasphemy, but Jardir embraced his anger. “Only words, Father of Lies. We will see for ourselves.”
The Par’chin emerged from the pool at last, dragging their packs. He looked around, taking in the scene. “Night.”
His tone gave Jardir a sense of unease. “What is it, Par’chin?”
The Par’chin was scanning the rocks. “I left gnawed worm hides all over these rocks not two hours ago. What happened to them?”
Jardir looked around in confusion, realizing that, indeed, there were only shells to be found. “Scavengers?”
As if on cue, there was a howl in the distance that made his blood turn cold.
Shanjat was not smiling any longer. “We would be wise to flee this place, before the war dogs are upon us. Unlike your warriors, the dogs survived, feeding upon fallen drones before turning on their masters.”
“Nightwolves, we can handle,” Arlen said.
“Not these, Explorer,” Shanjat said.
Jardir shook his head. “We are not going anywhere until we look inside the Spear of Ala.”
“Place is warded better’n anything I’ve ever seen,” Renna said. “Ent gonna drag a demon in there without killing him, and we can’t just chain him up and stick him in a hole out here.”
The Par’chin sighed. “You go, Ahmann. But not alone. Take Shanvah. Renna and I will stand guard over the prisoner.”
Quiet Shanvah bowed deeply. “Par’chin, it should be you to go with my blessed uncle.”
“Ent gonna lie and say I don’t want to.” The Par’chin shook his head sadly. “But it ent my place. Learned my lesson with Anoch Sun. More than anyplace in the world, this is holy ground to your people. The first feet to touch it after all this time should be Evejan.”
“They will be,” Jardir agreed. “For you and your jiwah sacrifice all in the First War. You are as Evejan as any, whether you see it or not. Shanjat as well, even if his feet are moved by the Father of Evil.”
Alagai Ka hissed. “It will be my death to enter your greatward. There are many miles to go, Heir. You need me, yet.”
Jardir smiled. “Be full of fear, Father of Evil. I can protect you with the crown, but you will know that every moment of your existence is at my sufferance.”
“And if your sufferance wanes, even for an instant, I will be dead,” Shanjat said. “Incinerated by the greatward.”
Jardir shrugged. “If so, it is inevera.”
—
The howling grew closer as they approached the csar. The creatures had been circling them for some time, ensuring they were alone—vulnerable.
And then the dogs grew silent as death. Jardir could still sense them like demons in the Maze, but despite his crownsight, the creatures remained invisible.
Alagai Ka hissed and squirmed as they approached the csar. It was rare for the creature to give much information in his aura, but his fear was palpable now.
Jardir felt exhilarated. Every step strengthened the link between the city and him. It spoke to him, telling a tale like the layers of rock in a desert mesa.
He turned to the Par’chin. “Was this what you meant, Par’chin, when you said Anoch Sun spoke to you?”
He expected his friend to join in his wonder, but the Par’chin paused, tilting his head, then gave it a shake. “Felt like I was part of something, at Anoch Sun. I can sense the power here, but it ent speaking to me.”
Jardir scanned the others, but it became clear the connection was his alone. He felt the gemstones of his crown pulsing, and knew that somewhere in the heart of the csar, gems cut from the same stone, focused by bones taken from the same demon prince, were pulsing in return.
The moment they stepped onto the greatward, Jardir felt its power wrap around him like a raiment, bending to his every whim and will.
“How’re we supposed to get inside?” the Par’chin asked, eyeing the great barred gates. “Climb the walls?”
“That will not be necessary, Par’chin.” Jardir gave a casual wave of his spear and the great gates began to rumble, swinging open to admit them.
A clattering sound echoed in the cavern behind them, like talons on rock. Jardir looked behind but saw nothing.
The demon gave a low growl. “Quickly,” Shanjat said. “They are almost upon us!”
Jardir did not trust the demon, but his tone spoke truth, and they rushed into the city, Alagai Ka hissing in pain as they crossed the threshold. Jardir signaled for the gates to close, but not before faces materialized just outside.
Twisted canine visages, but Jardir recognized them. Even now, Krasian warriors favored the breed—gwilji, desert runners—as
hunting companions and protectors of wells and women.
But these were larger by far than the gwilji in Krasia, snapping and slavering like starved dogs thrown in a fighting pit.
Most chilling of all, they had no bodies, all claws and jaws, floating in the darkness as the gates slammed shut.
“What in the dark of night were those things?” Renna asked.
“What Evin Cutter has to look forward to,” the Par’chin said, “he keeps letting Shadow eat demon meat.”
Shanjat shook his head. “You have no idea what you face, Explorer. These creatures have been feeding and breeding far from the sun for the rise and fall of millennia. Powers you barely grasp are as simple to them as breathing.”
“It does not matter,” Jardir said. “They cannot touch us here. Nothing can.”
Indeed, power suffused him as he led them through the silent streets. He could see the greatward in his mind’s eye, knew its every contour, felt every door and wall and rooftop. Without ever having seen the place before, he knew it as intimately as the streets where he had come of age. He knew no life remained in the csar, and knew, too, where to find its last remain.
He guided them to Sharik Hora.
The giant doors opened with a thought. The temple was the pulsing center of the csar, focusing the power that kept its streets and buildings pristine, its walls inviolate. Alagai Ka hissed and squirmed on Shanjat’s back as they entered, crawling deeper into the warrior’s robe.
Like its namesakes in Everam’s Bounty and the Desert Spear, the inside of the Temple of Heroes’ Bones was covered in the bodies of fallen Sharum. Their bones formed intricate latticework on the walls. Carpets and tapestries, woven of dyed human hair into elaborate designs, seemed untouched by the millennia, colors still vivid and bright.
The benches, chairs, and tables were built from human bone, stretched and padded with leather from human skin.
Everything was warded with breathtaking beauty—wards etched into bone, woven with hair, painted in blood. All of it tied together, linked to the heart of the csar—linked to him. Jardir could feel it all flowing in harmony with his spirit.
The Core Page 66
