“She’s alive,” marveled Gannon. “Though she shouldn’t be.” He gathered her into his arms.
Aldric couldn’t do anything to help those in Caronath, not from this distance. But he could try to prevent Gannon taking Kurio for the Tainted Cabal to use for whatever unholy purpose. He pushed himself to his knees, retching as nausea overcame him. Surprisingly, he still held his khopesh.
Gannon stepped through the gate, and his clothes rippled in a breeze. The sun bathed him in golden light. Aldric realized it was just past dawn. He lurched to his feet. The tip of his blade scraped along the ground as he staggered toward the arcane gate.
“Gannon!” he roared.
Gannon turned to frown at Aldric. He dropped Kurio into the dirt, and dust puffed up around her. “You are no threat, priest.”
Cants flowed from him, accompanied by finger gestures representing the structure and calculations of his demonic sorcery. Slowly, the circle began to shrink toward its center.
“No!” Aldric shouted, stumbling forward. But he knew in his gut he wouldn’t reach it in time; it was closing too swiftly.
The contraction accelerated, and in an instant, the gate shrank to a pinprick and disappeared.
Aldric fell to his knees. Gannon was gone. And he’d taken Kurio with him. He clutched at his body as a violent shuddering racked him from toes to crown. A sob escaped his lips as despair overtook him. Never had he felt so betrayed, so shamed.
Never had he doubted his faith, his god. Until now.
“Aldric?” came a feeble voice.
He turned to see Priska rising weakly to her feet. Her hair was a tangled mess, and dust and dirt stained her clothes.
“Where’s Sokhelle?” she asked, looking around. A strangled cry escaped her lips as she saw the sorcerer lying lifeless on the pavers. “Is she …?”
“She’s dead,” Aldric said. “I couldn’t save her.”
Priska saw Niklaus and scrambled across the floor to him. Blood was congealed in a sticky mess around his body, but she took no notice as it clung to her clothes, her hands.
“Heal him,” she screeched at Aldric.
“I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do for Niklaus either,” he said.
“What good are you, then?” sobbed Priska.
He took Priska by the elbow and drew her away from Niklaus’s corpse. Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks, and her lips trembled. Aldric wanted to heal her tiredness and her minor scratches and bruises—to do something good, to salvage something from this mess. He reached for Menselas’s divine power and found … nothing. His god had abandoned him. For his failure. For his doubts.
Desolation gripped his heart, clenching it tight.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled to Priska. “I can’t heal you. I’m sorry.”
He couldn’t find any more words. Now, in the moment of his greatest need—of the world’s greatest need—Menselas had abandoned him.
Aldric rose to his feet. His khopesh lay on the ground, and he almost kicked it over the edge of the platform, but stopped himself. Its curved blade gleamed under Soki’s sorcerous illumination. The globe’s radiance would soon fade, he knew that, but for now he stood bathed in its light. In her light.
Soki hadn’t given up. Even when she knew she was dying, she’d kept trying to bind the Revenants despite knowing she was doomed. She’d given up her life so others, like Aldric and Priska, could live; so their civilization wasn’t destroyed. And she still carried the Chain of Eyes.
Bending gingerly, Aldric grasped the hilt of his khopesh and sheathed the blade.
Soki’s sorcerous globes winked out, leaving them in pitch darkness.
Aldric reached for his own dawn-tide reservoir and spoke a cant, which fizzled into nothing. He was empty. But a gleam in the inky blackness caught his eye. It was tiny at first, a flicker. Then it resolved into a faint glow.
There was no doubting the source. Niklaus’s sword.
A gasp escaped Priska.
Someone groaned. Not Aldric. And not the sorcerer.
Niklaus.
The mercenary rolled onto his side, then sat upright. He sucked in a huge breath of air and gasped like a fish out of water.
Aldric was so stunned he couldn’t speak.
Niklaus rose to his feet, as though his horrific wounds didn’t bother him.
Priska crowed with delight. She rushed over and flung herself at Niklaus’s feet, clutching his legs.
“What …?” managed Aldric.
Niklaus gave a hacking cough, then spat scarlet-streaked phlegm to the side.
“Blood and damnation, Priska,” he snarled. “Can you get off me, and find me something to drink?”
Epilogue
Judgment
TRYING NOT TO RETCH, ZARINA rummaged through the tattered clothes strewn around Mellish’s corpse at the base of the cliff. Or what was left of him. Animals, or something worse, had ravaged his flesh; and some of his bones bore teeth marks. A similar fate had befallen his mount. She was only able to confirm the remains were Mellish’s from the gear scattered around and the saddle.
When she didn’t find what she was looking for, she closed her eyes and sat for a time on the cold hard stone. A sliver of unease pierced her heart. Mellish had carried with him the artifact that controlled the collar around the demon’s neck, and an ancient amulet her order had salvaged from a ruin. Both were invaluable to the Order of the Blazing Sun’s cause. If they were lost …
The demon Kurio must have taken them. She would be hunted down and destroyed. Her kind had no place in this world. There could be no compromises, no quarter.
Zarina stood and dusted off her hands. She looked across the darkening defile in front of her and decided she’d better scale the cliff quickly; it would only become trickier in the fading light. At the top, she kneeled at the rough edge and surveyed Mellish’s resting place one last time. He had been a flawed tool, but valuable in his own way. She had so few to work with.
The forces arrayed against the Order of the Blazing Sun were vast. At times like this she felt she was insignificant against them. And almost everything they did seemed to end in failure. Each setback hardened her heart and mind, but also brought a shard of despair. The Order’s successes were few and far between, so diminished were they from their halcyon days many centuries ago. Only a few branches remained—a few dozen individuals against the might of the Tainted Cabal. But they would never give up. The cost of ultimate failure was too great.
As she turned toward her horse, she caught a glimpse of a figure among the stunted trees surrounding the clearing. Zarina stiffened. She wasn’t much of a sorcerer, but she prepared a cant anyway, even though it would be useless against a higher-level demon. At the same time, she drew her dagger. In the pale light, the blade shimmered with an unearthly jade luminescence. Another artifact, this one paid for fairly. Its edges could cut stone as easily as flesh.
“Who are you?” she shouted. “Stand forward where I can see you!”
A man moved from the shadows. He was tall and wore a dark cloak over glimmering mail. A hood obscured his face, but she knew what she’d see if it didn’t: flawless skin, a flat nose, and eyes that pierced your soul and judged you. A wraithe.
“Another human,” the wraithe said softly in Skanuric. “I grow weary of dealing with your petty concerns.”
“Did you kill him?”
“I have killed many of your kind.”
Zarina gripped her dagger tighter. “The man at the bottom of the cliff. He was a companion of mine.”
The wraithe stood unmoving for long moments.
Zarina tried to keep her breathing even. She thought about making a dash for her horse, but it had wandered off in search of fodder and was twenty paces distant. It probably wouldn’t make a difference if she was mounted though. The wraithes had far greater arcane powers than most sorcerers.
“I did not kill him,” the wraithe eventually said. “What do you know of the events that transpired here?”
; So Kurio must have killed Mellish. If she could believe this creature.
“We captured a demon. My companion was taking her to—”
“A ruin,” the wraithe finished. “You are involved, then.”
“My Order fights against the demons and their worshipers. Our cause is righteous. They are invaders, and their lusts are abhorrent.”
“As humans are to me.” The wraithe turned its head to the left, then back again. “Righteous … that is an interesting word. Not all demons are malevolent.”
Zarina shook her head. “They are all evil.”
“You are mistaken, as your kind often is. So, arrogant one, you stand against the Tainted Cabal?”
Zarina knew that if the wraithes were allied with the Cabal, she was likely dead. If they weren’t, there was a chance she might escape this encounter.
“Yes,” she said, bracing herself. “My Order opposes the Tainted Cabal.”
The wraithe stood still and silent again. A breeze stirred the edges of its cloak. Its hood moved, as if it had nodded.
“Then I have information for you.”
Zarina let out a breath. Maybe I’ll survive …
“The Cabal’s plans are coming to fruition. We cannot allow this. They have meddled with a power far beyond them, seeking to use it for their summoning.”
Heart pounding in her chest, Zarina could barely speak, so great was her fear. “To summon … Nysrog?”
The hood moved again. “Resistance was attempted by a sorcerer of great power and two marked by new gods. They failed. However, the sorcerer managed to release a fragment of the Revenants. It was a bold action. And unexpected.”
The Revenants. Zarina knew of them through fragments of ancient histories, although only vague details of what the Revenants were and how they could be released. Mellish had been dispatched to investigate, to bring proof of this puissant sorcery that had saved humanity many times. If the Revenants had been released, there were dark days ahead. But it also meant the Tainted Cabal were hamstrung, which was good news of a sort.
“A fragment?” she repeated. “Then they will be weak. Initially at least.”
“Yes.”
“You know all this, yet you did not stop them?”
“My pets tried to stop them entering the ruin, but were forced back by demons. So I watched, and I witnessed.”
“You failed,” Zarina said.
“I did.”
“The sorcerer and the others, the god-touched, what happened to them?” They might prove useful allies.
“Death and injury, and not only of their bodies.”
“Where are they?”
“Gone.”
She knew Mellish well enough to scry his location, but she would never be able to find strangers in the wilderness. “What now?” she asked. “Are you going to kill me?”
“No. You are a thread in this pattern. All is not lost. If you do nothing, the Revenants will destroy your civilization. Again. This is not unpleasing to us. If by some means you are able to stop the Revenants, the demon-bloods will be free to summon their infernal lord. Either way, you lose.”
I’ll return to Caronath, Zarina decided, and get word to the rest of the Order. We’ll do our best. It’s all we can do. Maybe we’ll make a difference.
To the wraithe, she said, “What do you suggest I do?”
“Hide. Live for as long as you can.”
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