Dagger 2 - Blood Brothers - A Dark Fantasy Adventure (Born to Be Free series)

by Walt Popester

  “Let me go, please, or I’ll…no longer be able to put my hand in the…service of the Fort-AAAAAHHH!”

  Marduk bent over Hamarth, who had just spoken. “I will not tolerate your presence in here anymore. Go back in the asshole you have been shitted out of and tell your Pendracon this tower is mine—mine! These matters are not subject of gossip. Everything will be explained in due course!” He took the dagger out of Hamarth’s mangled hand, cutting through his middle and ring fingers, producing a thick red stream.

  The Guardian bowed his head in a sign of obedience, forcing himself to endure the pain in silence as he walked out. Marduk turned to Hamon, watching him coldly. The old Guardian came to the decision to abandon the Delta tower as quickly as possible, staring with hate into their eyes as he went.

  When the door was closed, the uncle put an arm around his nephew’s shoulders, grabbed a torch, and quickly accompanied him back to the top of tower as if to hide him again from the eyes of the world. “I can’t even shit in peace in my tower. Did you tell them something?”

  “No. At least I don’t think. Maybe. Maybe I did.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” the Dracon replied with a pat on his back. “Yes, don’t worry, but don’t ever do it again.”

  “What?”

  “Speak!” He pushed the boy back inside the room where he had awakened and closed the door. He looked around, then slowly walked to the fireplace and used the torch to revive the fire in Angra’s mouth, feeding it with two new logs. In a short time, the room was heated again by a red crackling. “Fire light is way more pleasant than the cold and metallic ensiferum one.” Marduk moved the hot coals with the poker. “The purple glow that shines everywhere in this place often appears to me as a harbinger of doom. A constant and infinite omen of misfortune. The old, sacred fire is much better, don’t you think?”

  “I think you’re a bit too armed.” Dag sat on the bed edge and rubbed his shoulder. Ktisis, that asshole really meant to break it. He added the black Guardians to the list of individuals he had to guard himself against. “We are at the Fortress now. You should feel safe. Instead, you go around armed to the teeth. Not to mention that you can’t see a damn Delta Guardian in your…Delta tower.”

  Marduk didn’t answer. He dropped the poker and watched the fire with still eyes.

  Dagger realized that Marduk had not slept much in the last few days and that no, he didn’t feel safe within the walls of his own tower. “Now I understand what the situation is at the Fortress. Olem was right.”

  “Olem is always right. When he’s wrong, he doesn’t speak. So what is the situation at the Fortress, in your opinion?”

  “The Guardians in black hold you by the balls. Whoever they are, they’re big, well-armed and well-armored too. Unlike you guys, who go around in—excuse me for saying so—those lightweight robes. Something must have changed on this side of the portal while you were away.”

  After a brief moment of consideration, Marduk said, “You’re not a good listener, after all. You may have noticed I told the black fucker to go and report to their Pendracon, not to his Dracon.”

  “Interesting detail.”

  “Pendracon Hammoth Korpiklan is dead.”

  The boy froze, even though he didn’t remember having met the Warrior King who had succeeded his father—Hammoth, the one who had brought him to the Fortress from that damn desert where he was born. “Dead?”

  Marduk nodded. “He committed suicide a few months ago by jumping from this very tower, just under Crowley’s mocking gaze.” He grabbed the poker again to stab the coals with an angry and methodical gesture. “The only two friends I’ve ever had.”

  “That’s rather suspicious.”

  “What?” The flames were reflected in Marduk’s eyes. “That Hammoth committed suicide while all of us Dracons were in the world Beyond looking for you? Yes. Yes, it is. But several witnesses said they saw him there, alone on the balcony. They heard him yell CROWLEY! to the wind before surrendering his soul to the void.”

  “They’re not pinning that on the ghost of my father, are they? I mean…Crowley’s ghost.”

  “Of course, it’s suspect that the black Dracon, the Hammer Dracon, became Warrior King just a few days later. I dread to think about the intimidations our Blood Brothers must have suffered in our absence to elect that mountain of shit as the new guide to this sacred order.”

  Dagger was silent. After a while, he said, “I’m starting to think he was right.”

  “If you’re starting to agree with Skyrgal, then we’re in deep shit.” Marduk grinned bitterly at the boy’s surprised face. “Yes. I know you’re talking about him. When you die, you go back to Daddy and have a chat with him. Isn’t that so?”

  “And how would you know?”

  “Araya told me everything. It also happened, let’s say…after the last time we met.”

  “The last time we met? It takes guts to put it that way. You killed me!”

  “I had to.”

  “Maybe, but next time try to do it another way. Even a Spider like me knows a stab in the stomach is the most painful way to kill someone. That and the knee!”

  “How do you kill someone by stabbing his knee?”

  “That’s not the point!”

  “What should I have done instead?”

  “You could have slit my throat, for example!”

  The Dracon thought it over, then shrugged. “You’re right. Next time I’ll slit your throat. But try to understand that I had to act fast. The smell of your blood was driving the Gorgors in that sewer. When you died, they could sense it no longer.”

  “You killed me so no one would follow us?”

  Marduk nodded. “Just so I could take your body away from Melekesh and join the rest of the Guardians. Apparently, the plan worked fine or we wouldn’t be talking about it now.”

  “You want me to thank you, do you?”

  “Did you talk with Skyrgal again or not?” Marduk repeated impatiently.

  “I might have.”

  “You might have?”

  “I don’t know!” Dagger got up, and walked nervously around the room. “After waking up, I struggled to even remember my name. My memory is coming back little by little, but it’s mixed with memories that can’t be mine—images of a desert, a wind loaded with sand and screams that would make your skin crawl.”

  “Uhm.”

  “Uhm, you say! Those memories aren’t mine, not those! Does that make any sense?”

  “Maybe it does.” The Dracon sat with his back against a canine of Angra. He looked around. “This whole Fortress and the city of Agalloch, down there, have been built with the stone of Adramelech, obtained by dismantling its old temples and statues. There’s a lot of people who think this stone feels nostalgia for the desert—that it has a will of its own and plays with people’s lives, moving them like puppets in a toy theater. Or even by dropping them from a balcony, for all I know.”

  “That’s the biggest nonsense I’ve ever heard. It’s just stone.”

  “So it seems.”

  “And stone shouldn’t do things.”

  “Your argument makes sense.”

  “But you don’t believe it, either.”

  “I was going to say, it’s a feeling.” Marduk grew sad. “Your mother once said the same thing. In the last stage of her madness, she was convinced these walls could speak. Yet she never wanted to reveal to me what they were telling her, nor where she had hidden you.”

  Dagger looked at him. Marduk’s eyes were shining. “Did you love her?”

  “She…was my sister?”

  “I meant…”

  “I know what you meant,” the Dracon answered dryly. “Things change fast. You’ve already learned that at your own expense. There are some balances we would like to last forever, what you might call normality—the fucking banality and beauty of the everyday, of habits, of the small and insignificant things. Then comes the destabilizing element, the unexpected, and everything changes in t
he blink of an eye, leaving you there to regret the happiness you lost while everything slips through your useless fingers.”

  Dagger reached toward the hearth, holding out his hands to the fire. “I guess the destabilizing element is me.” He did not continue. He raised his face, staring into Crowley’s eye. Fuck you, Dad, he thought.

  “That’s not what I meant. What I wanted to say, my boy, is that nothing ever depends entirely on your will and actions. So it doesn’t make sense to stand there and wonder about the reason for your wounds. Ask yourself instead if they can be healed.”

  Well, actually even the mortal ones do heal…“My wounds can’t be healed.”

  “Maybe not. But, like everyone’s, even yours can be ignored.”

  An animal trill burst into the room, giving Dagger the creeps. He turned to look out of the window and saw one of the Gorgors sliding down the pole. When it reached the ground, the shadow seemed to finally die. “Some wounds are difficult to ignore, I think.”

  “Tomorrow morning, the Council of the Five will meet to decide what our answer will be to what many still call the insane act of the shadows. It’s likely that the new Pendracon, whose ability to reason is the same as those logs burning in the fireplace, will want to move against the Tankars and Gorgors—to deal with them before they have a chance to attack.”

  “A fist against the hive,” Dagger reasoned. “Besides, now that the Divine is dead, why should the Gorgors still attack us? They should have no motive, right?”

  “Uhm. No. Not at all. Araya has given them one.”

  “What?”

  “He’s brought the remains of their leper messiah back here.”

  Dagger turned around. “The Divine is here?”

  “Well, at least what’s left of him. I couldn’t find the guts to look at him again, but the lizard prince assures me he’s still alive, and the look in his eye is still…” Marduk bowed his head, and did not finish the sentence. “The shadows won’t stop now. Sure, they wouldn’t pass up putting their hands on you in the meantime. Now you are the Node to untie, for us as well as everyone else. As long as you exist, there can be no peace for anyone.”

  “The words we all long to hear…”

  “Stop it. My message to you is very clear: the bandage on your chest does not cover a wound, but your nature. If someone were to see that damn Spiral here, the consequences would be unpleasant. Both Guardians and Gorgors would simply lock you up in an Amorphis box and bury it where no one would ever come looking for you. Hiding. Removing. When someone tries to find a solution for you, it will always come to that.”

  “So why don’t you let them? It would be the solution to everyone’s problems.”

  “No. It would not. Even our current Pendracon didn’t dislike the idea of having you disappear in a more definitive way than the last time. We were able to change his mind only when we discovered a spy in a brothel, downtown. Or rather, when Olem discovered it.”

  “And what was Olem doing in a…?” Dag did not finish the question.

  “Ktisis, you’re getting a bit too innocent since you left the Spiders’ guild!” Marduk handed a ring to him. “Look at this seal. It should be familiar to you. It’s the Spiral which connects the gods’ hearts with the great All and keeps you bound.”

  Dagger turned it in his fingers several times. “Who was spying on you?”

  “A confirmation of all my theories,” Marduk answered. “Gorgors could never create you on their own: they lacked the knowledge. They had to ask someone for help, to lead them in the translation of the inscriptions in the Ktisis temple, someone who could interpret their multiple meanings. And there’s only one small group of…ancient individuals who could do it. I think this is simply the greatest revenge story of all time.”

  “What do you know?”

  “It’s a feeling…” The Dracon shrugged. “They must be the ones who created you, and now They are looking for you within these walls.”

  Dagger shivered at the tone with which the Dracon had uttered that simple word. They. Now he remembered that Skyrgal too had talked about them: My men will find you and They will show you the way.

  “Even if we threw you in a ditch, down a cliff or into the depths of the sea, sooner or later They would find you.” Marduk pulled out a dagger and turned it over in his fingers. He held it up between himself and Dagger, staring at the edge of the blade dividing their eyes. “Think about how easy it is to extort any information with the right torture. After all, They have time on their side: a tyrant we can do little against.”

  “Why do you say They have time on their side? Do you know anything about them? Do They have a name?”

  The Delta Dracon shook his head. “Not one you can pronounce without incurring the wrath of Angra. Still, you can guess the distinctive symbol They used.” With the tip of the dagger, he touched the boy’s sternum. “Has Skyrgal told you anything about it?”

  Dagger shook his head. “Yes. I mean, no. He too called them They, just like you. Ktisis! Someone here has to know something about them.”

  “You’re right. Angra knows everything about them. Try asking him—the punishment is death, for all who dare. And it’s not just a rule fallen into disuse over time, as the cruelest rules often do. Have you seen the man dying out there with the Gorgors?”

  “Is he someone who asked?”

  “He’s someone who asked. And gods don’t like questions. Amid the chaos of rumors and gossip that accompanied your return on Candehel-mas, and the discovery of that spy down in Agalloch, that man asked that question too. A mistake no one ever makes twice.”

  Dagger looked down. “Well, I’d rise again. It would be almost worth it.”

  Marduk put his unarmed hand on Dagger’s shoulder. “Dag, try to keep a low profile. I don’t believe you’ll find it hard. There’s no one you can trust, not you, not here. You’re swimming in a den of snakes, and even if one of them isn’t poisonous, to have them bite you is definitely not a good way to find out which one. Most of the Guardians think you’re the son of Crowley Nightfall and you shouldn’t wake them up from this illusion. Nothing more. No other father. Your mother went crazy after his death. She hid you beyond the portal because she was mad to the bone, and that’s where the poor Deltas have been searching for you all this time. Only human blood flows inside your veins, Pendracon’s blood.” He smiled. “So, now that you’ve been found again, everyone will love you just like they loved your father. Very good—no living burial, no burning, no dismemberment or other unpleasant procedures. Just like when you were in the world Beyond, you have to be here for everyone to see, and yet not be seen at the same time.”

  “I love making progress. And you powerful Dracons…what will you do in the meantime to prevent them, whoever They are, from coming and taking me away?”

  Marduk’s smile became a grin. “Well, if you start feeling watched day and night, there’s a reason for it. Usually, whenever someone even steps on a piece of shit between these walls, Araya finds out precisely what it smelled like.”

  “But he can’t smell their spies.”

  The Dracon started to answer, but the words got lost on the way to his mouth. He walked to the balcony and looked out.

  The boy followed him. “Do you think Araya knows who They are?”

  “I think Araya is raving mad and, yes, in the four-hundred-odd years of his life he must have seen a lot of sh…” He stopped to correct himself. “…several things,” he continued. “I think he knows a lot about them, more than he’s willing to tell me, at least. I know only marginal details, the crumbs that he and the god decide to let me savor. Surely, They were Guardians once. For those who can see it, there are still clear signs of their presence at the Fortress. Look for them, if you want to know a little more about yourself.”

  By now the sun had disappeared below the horizon and the songs of night birds had risen, clandestine in that city of dark and ocher silence. The prisoners were all dead. Even the man, dark against the sky in his perpetual
cry of mute agony.

  “I love the view I enjoy from my tower.” The Dracon put his hand on Angra’s head, looking at the straight road beyond Adramelech’s walls. “Tomorrow, during the Council, you will learn a lot of things, some of which you may not like. You can’t ignore what you are and what’s happening around you. You can’t ignore where the world is heading. Hiding from yourself is useless. Locking the world outside your door is useless. All the steps you’ve taken in your life have led you here, and you can only trust the road now. The road is your only salvation. See where it leads, Dag. Some people will give you a hand in carrying the burden you were allotted; some will even sacrifice themselves for you. But the burden is yours, and if you don’t know how to handle it, no one will do it for you.” The Dracon looked at him from above. “I’ve never gilded this pill, my boy, like everyone who died for you did, beginning with your mother. Honesty is the most sincere form of affection, and I’m telling you, yours could be a one-way street to nowhere, a tormented existence in the service of the forces that move the All. I’m only asking you to give yourself the benefit of the doubt that there may be a Redemption even for you. Everything is possible for those who believe.” Marduk said no more. He moved to leave. When he reached the door, he paused as if to add something, but instead lowered the handle and disappeared into the shadows.

  Left alone, Dag lay down on the bed and closed his eyes. The strain got the better of him as his thoughts overlapped each other. No Redemption for me, he thought as the wind-borne sand rose between the walls.

  In the wind, a voice called, “Come here.”

  He stood up, or at least he thought he did, but when he turned around, he saw that he was still lying down, asleep. What the…?

  “Come here. Come back to me.”

  There were shadows at the edges of his vision, but when he tried to look at them, they disappeared.

  “Come closer.”

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m here. Beyond.”

  The voice began to whisper, echoing all around.

  Dagger wandered the room, even though his body was still on the bed, until he found the source of the voice, to his left. He walked to the wall; when he put his ear against it he began to understand what the voice beyond was saying: “We’re not coming back. Close your eyes and forget your name, step outside yourself and release your mind, as you go insane…”