The Last Bucelarii Book 3: Gateway to the Past

by Andy Peloquin

  "No. I must have it." Hailen's life depended on presenting the ring to Il Seytani. He would not give it up.

  "Without it, all we have done is for nothing! Tomorrow, I announce to the people of Al Hani what has taken place here. I must have the ring to show that their king still lives. What is a king without the royal ring?"

  "I cannot give it to you."

  "Why not? What are you planning to…" The al-Malek's eyes narrowed. "Traitorous bastard! You are bringing it to Kara-ket. You are returning it to the Sage, aren't you?"

  The Hunter's mind raced. What could he say?

  "I thought to use it. Take it to the Sage, get close enough to use Soulhunger to…"

  "Lies!" The Abiarazi stalked toward him, rage burning in its eyes. "You would betray me to the Sage, all so you can rule Al Hani for yourself. And to think I offered you a place by my side."

  "As you did to Samia?"

  The demon stopped, looking stunned. "She is nothing but a pitiful human! How can you think I would treat you the same?"

  "The treatment of your kind has brought me nothing but suffering!" The Hunter gripped Soulhunger tighter. "I have lost too many to the Abiarazi; I will not lose another!"

  The al-Malek's head jerked back. "What are you talking about?"

  The Hunter shook his head. "I am done with you. I am leaving the palace, and Al Hani. If you try to stop me, you will share the fates of your fellow Abiarazi in Voramis and Malandria."

  Rage twisted the demon's face, and its features swam in a mockery of flesh. "Treachorous cur! You dare to raise a hand against me, against those who brought you into this world? Because of us…"

  "Because of you, I have lost everything! Because of you, I have no memory of who I am, where I come from, or even what my name is. Because of the Abiarazi, I must hide in the shadows, fleeing from those who seek to either kill me or use me to their bloodthirsty ends. Because of you, I cannot find a moment of peace without taking lives to feed your precious Kharna. Your kind has done nothing but torture and imprison me, kill the ones I care about, and take from me what is mine by right." Soulhunger's leather grip creaked in his hand. "I have had enough of your kind. You are a stain upon the face of Einan, bringing nothing but death, destruction, and ruin."

  Captain Al-Zahar burst into the room. He stopped, his eyes flashing to Soulhunger, hand darting to his hilt. "Did I not warn you the accursed qattala would betray you, my king?"

  "Indeed you did, captain. But have no fear, I will…"

  The captain ripped his sword free and rushed the Hunter. "Die, traitor!"

  Chapter Forty

  Even as Al-Zahar charged, the Hunter moved with the lithe grace of a predator. He'd kept the captain alive for fear the queen would discover his plans to steal the al-Malek's ring and flee to rescue Hailen. Now he had no reason to hold back. Soulhunger flashed in the flickering candlelight, and Captain Al-Zahar's sword clattered to the ground, severed hand still clutching its hilt. The captain stared at the Hunter with wide, horror-filled eyes, mouth working soundlessly as he toppled into the pool with a splash. A halo of crimson spread outward from the stump of his wrist.

  The Hunter whirled and stalked toward the demon. Soulhunger throbbed eagerly in his hand, aching for blood.

  "Wait!" The al-Malek's face writhed in horror, loathing, and a hint of fear. "Tell the Sage I will serve him faithfully. Surely he cannot mean for you to kill…"

  "I am not here on the Sage's orders, but I will pass him your message when I send him to join you!"

  Confusion wrinkled the demon's face. "The Sage didn’t…b-but...you said…"

  The Hunter gave him a savage grin. "Look at you, so accustomed to being the manipulator you can't tell when you're being manipulated. Shame you won't live to remember the feeling."

  He rushed forward, thrusting Soulhunger toward the al-Malek's chest. Have to end this before he…

  Teeth curling back in a snarl, the demon lashed out with a mighty blow that slammed into the Hunter's chest, lifted him from his feet, and flung him through the air. The Hunter crashed into the wall with a gasp, the impact driving the air from his lungs, and he struck the ground hard.

  "You fool!" The demon stomped toward him, once more wearing the face of the al-Malek. "I offered you a place by my side, to rule Al Hani as equals. And you throw it all away, for what? To spare the lives of some pitiful humans?"

  The al-Malek seized him by his hair and yanked his head up. Agony radiating from his chest, struggling to breathe, the Hunter swiped at him with Soulhunger. The demon latched long, slim fingers around his wrist and, with a vicious jerk, wrenched the Hunter's shoulder loose of its socket.

  The Hunter screamed as tendon and muscle tore. When the demon released him, he slumped to the ground, cradling his arm.

  "I should send your head to the Sage. He will know I am not to be ordered around like some dog. That is your place, Bucelarii!" He spat the last word as a curse.

  The demon's foot crashed into his side again, cracking more ribs, then stamped down, hard, on his right hand. Fingers snapped with an agonizing crack, and a cry ripped from his throat. Soulhunger clattered to the tiled floor. With a moan, he pushed himself up on his uninjured left arm, but the demon kicked his hand away. His head struck the tiles with jarring force. The al-Malek's boot slammed into his face, nearly cracking his neck. The room swam around him, and his vision blurred as he teetered on the edge of consciousness.

  "Almost a shame to see you like this." The al-Malek's soft voice held not a trace of pity or remorse. "When last we met, you were Nasnaz the Great, hero of Al Hani. Now, you're nothing more than the assassin who failed to kill the al-Malek."

  The Hunter muttered something between bloody teeth.

  "What's that, cur?" The demon seized his cloak and hauled him upright.

  A savage grin twisted the Hunter's face. His boot struck between the al-Malek's legs, and he slammed his forehead into the creature's face. Warm blood spattered his forehead. The demon's grip on his collar relaxed for a moment, but it was enough. He threw himself backward, wrenching free, and scrabbled for Soulhunger. His heart leapt as the fingers of his uninjured left hand closed around the blade. He whirled and lashed outward, hoping for a lucky blow. Soulhunger sliced open air.

  The demon drove its knee into his face, hurling him backward and to the ground. Guttural laughter burst from the Abiarazi's throat as it climbed atop him and wrapped its long fingers around his neck, squeezing with all the power of its demonic muscles.

  "Such a disappointment, you Bucelarii." Spittle flew from the demon's clenched teeth. "Too many of you were weaklings, so given over to humanity. It is a good thing you were all wiped out. Perhaps we'll do better next time."

  The Hunter gasped for breath, struggling against the demon's impossible strength, and pounded against the creature's forearms, hands, and face. The agony in his shattered hand and dislocated shoulder was nothing compared to the burning in his lungs. Animal instinct shrieked at him, but he couldn't break free. The edges of his vision wavered as blackness pressed in on him.

  "Don't worry, Bucelarii." The demon's voice sounded distant, as if through a long tunnel. "I'm not going to let you die, not like this."

  The constricting force around his throat released, and he drew in a deep, gasping breath. Fire burned in his neck, chest, and hands. Every part of him ached, as if he'd been trampled by a thousand horses. Yet the sensations slammed him back to reality. He still lived, still had a chance to…

  The demon's face leered in his blurred vision. "Thanal Eth'Athaur must have its due." Soulhunger glinted in the torchlight, its blade eager for blood—his blood. With a triumphant smirk, the al-Malek raised the dagger high.

  Death descended toward the Hunter's chest. Somehow, he managed to squirm aside, but Soulhunger ripped into the meat of his right shoulder. An agonized scream echoed in the distance—his scream. Eternity flashed in a single heartbeat; the dagger tugged at the threads of his soul, trying to tear him free of the bonds that tethe
red him to life.

  Stubbornly he fought, twisting away from the blade. Soulhunger ripped free of his flesh, and the torment receded. Even as the demon raised the blade to strike again, the Hunter slammed his elbow into the creature's face. The al-Malek's hold on his throat weakened, and he crawled out from beneath the demon.

  "Fool! You only delay the inevitable." The al-Malek seized his ankle, and the Hunter lashed out with his other foot. Bone crunched beneath the force of the blow. The demon released him with a grunt.

  Ignoring the throbbing in his shoulder, the Hunter rolled to his feet. He kicked out at the demon's right hand, knocking Soulhunger from its grip. The dagger spun across the floor and dropped into the pool with a splash.

  Damn it! The steel swords around the room would do little more than slow the creature. Without the Swordsman's iron daggers, Soulhunger was his only chance of survival.

  He hurled himself into the pool, and warm water splashed to his waist as he fished for the blade. His frantic movements churned the water to a pink-tinged froth.

  Strong hands seized his hair and lifted him from his feet. "This ends now!" He caught a glimpse of the demon's gruesome features before the creature drove his head beneath the water's surface. Though he struggled, he couldn't break free of the demon's iron grip. His right arm floated useless in the water, but his left hand scrabbled along the pool's tiled bottom. Soulhunger had to be in here, somewhere.

  His hands encountered only smooth tile. Terror sapped his strength even as his lungs cried for air. He'd cheated death many times before, but he'd never dared to discover if he could survive a drowning.

  Flesh met his grasping fingers. Captain Al-Zahar! The body twitched and shifted. He's still alive?

  The Hunter ran his hands along the captain's side, feeling for a belt knife, a dagger, anything. His hand closed around a hilt and, drawing it, he thrust it behind him. Steel sliced through something soft and yielding. The water garbled the demon's cry of pain, but the pressure on the back of his head eased. With every shred of strength, the Hunter pushed himself upward until his face burst free of the water.

  "Die, treacherous Bucelarii!"

  He had a second to suck in one shuddering, agonizing breath before the demon forced his head beneath the water once more. He strained and struggled, all in vain. His pulse pounded in his ears and his lungs screamed in torment, begging for air.

  'You're going to die!'

  He fought on, refusing to listen to the voice. Every muscle in his body strained in vain against the demon. He threw every effort into one final heave, to no avail. The inevitable drew ever nearer. Air burst from his lungs in a scream of terror, and his strength gave out.

  I'm going to die. With startling clarity, he felt his body relax, and he yielded to the inevitable. His vision darkened and he floated, weightless, the pain receding into an empty void. He'd faced death before, but never like this. This time, his failure would lead to the death of someone he cared for. I'm so sorry, Hailen. I'm sorry I failed you.

  Something hard and familiar touched his fingers. Instinctively, his hand closed around the object—Soulhunger's hilt. Hope flared within him. Seizing the blade, he threw his remaining willpower into a desperate movement—a pitiful jerk, little more than a spasm.

  It was enough.

  Soulhunger's tip pierced Captain Al-Zahar's neck. The captain's faint scream pierced the blood pounding in his ears, and the dagger shouted its delight and triumph in his mind. Power rushed through him, a trickle compared to its usual torrent, and his strength returned. With it came agony—in his shoulder, hand, chest, and lungs. The searing in his flesh pushed back all other sensations. It helped him focus, gave him clarity. He had to act now.

  He lashed out at the demon once more. Soulhunger sank into flesh, and the demon's grip fell away. The Hunter rolled over, his face seeking the surface of the water. With a shuddering, agonized gasp, he sucked in air.

  "You…haven't…killed…me…yet!" He coughed, vomiting water, his lungs ablaze.

  As Soulhunger fed, it flooded him with power, repairing his shattered ribs, injured shoulder, and crushed fingers. Pain knotted the creature's unnatural features, and muscle writhed as the Hunter ripped the dagger free of its thigh.

  "Wait!" Panic crossed the demon's face as he sank to one knee. "Let me…"

  "Save your pleas." The Hunter pressed Soulhunger into the creature's throat. "Your words are empty promises, lies told to save your skin. You Abiarazi know nothing about the truth."

  The flesh in his hands shifted, hard muscle giving way to soft, smooth curves. The face of the al-Malek transformed into Queen Asalah's perfect features, all feminine beauty and warm, inviting eyes. "You desired this form. I saw it in your eyes. Let me be this woman for you. I will…"

  The Hunter pressed the dagger harder, and blood trickled down the queen's neck. "I know the truth, demon. You are no woman; only a monster wearing a mask!"

  Soulhunger's razor edge opened the creature's throat. Blood burbled from the wound, staining the water crimson. The demon clapped a hand to the gaping tear and coughed, spraying gore. With a vicious snarl, the Hunter plunged the dagger into the creature's exposed chest.

  Laughter burst from his throat, as inhuman as the guttural shrieks echoing in chamber. Soulhunger cried in ecstasy, and crimson light bathed the room.

  Fire seeped into every fiber of his being and his body burned, torment and pleasure joining in a horrible, twisted sensation. He felt his muscles, joints, and tendons re-knitting. Molten lava flared in his chest as a new scar etched itself deep into his flesh. Pain overwhelmed him, driving him to his knees. Bloody water splashed around him as he twitched and shuddered, wracked with torment.

  With the agony came a torrent of power. He'd forgotten how glorious, how hideous it felt. His soul shredded into thousands of fragments in that moment, his consciousness torn by the force cascading through him. Darkness swam in his vision. He clung to the demon like a drowning man gripping a rope. The lifeless body kept him from collapsing into the pool.

  Slowly, the ruby light of Soulhunger's gem faded, and the waves of spasms slowed. He climbed to his feet, his legs unsteady, and spoke to the monstrous corpse in a quiet voice. "You gave me answers about my past, and I am grateful for that. But you put Hailen in danger. Innocents would have died because of you. That is something I cannot allow."

  He forced his shaking hands to release their death grip on the creature's throat. The demon, once more wearing the face of the al-Malek, slipped below the surface of the water.

  Chapter Forty-One

  The ring of the al-Malek lay in a widening pool of crimson that spread from a fallen Royal Guard. Wiping it clean on a guard's tunic, he studied the white gold band and its enormous violet sapphire. He had what he came for. Now to find my way out of here and return for Hailen.

  He had enough time to track down Younis and deal with the bandits waiting in the Thalj Pass. With that problem resolved, he'd find a way back to Il Seytani's camp, where he could sneak in and rescue Hailen well before the bandit leader grew impatient for his men to return.

  With a final glance at the unmoving form of the true al-Malek of Al Hani, the Hunter strode from the room. He recoiled from the wall of smoke that filled the tunnel leading to the main chamber. The tiled corridor amplified the crackling of fire coming from the room ahead.

  Damn it!

  Drawing his cloak over his face, he hurried down the passage and into the blazing chamber beyond. The stench of burning flesh and hair assaulted his nostrils. Tongues of flame enveloped three charred corpses, and fingers of bright, scorching fire cavorted in a hypnotic rhythm.

  Samia's body burned hottest. Captain Al-Zahar had poured the oil with a liberal hand. It is no less than she deserves. She'd betrayed her king and country at the behest of a demon. Her quick, painless death had been too kind a fate.

  The other two corpses, however, belonged to women unlucky enough to serve the al-Malek. They were collateral in the demon's bloodthirsty
plan.

  The Hunter bowed his head. May the Long Keeper take you into his embrace.

  The heavy doors to the al-Malek's chambers burst open. Boots thudded on the carpet, and dark hands pulled back the curtain as two Royal Guards in pristine white armor charged into the room. They stopped, eyes wide, at sight of the blaze. One shouted in the language of Al Hani, his hand darting to his sword hilt. The second guard's blade flashed from his sheath and he rushed the Hunter.

  The Hunter cursed. He didn't want any more bodies than necessary. Soulhunger remained in its sheath; it had spilled enough blood tonight. He closed with the guard and, seizing his upraised sword hand, wrapped his right arm around the man's neck, spun, and hurled the armored figure over his shoulder. The guard cried out and flew through the air, crashing into his companion, and the two collapsed in a heap of tangled armor and limbs. Not waiting for them to recover, the Hunter rushed over and kicked out twice, hard. The guards slumped, blood streaming from broken noses and lips.

  The Hunter glanced at the burning corpses. The fire in the main chamber had spread to the plush couches and cushions of the sitting area, and tongues of flame licked up the hanging curtains. With a curse, he seized the guards by the collar and flung them into the tiled passage.

  They'll have a wicked headache from all the smoke, but they'll live. The tiled corridor held no fuel for the fire. The bodies in the bathing room will be unharmed. Whoever discovered the corpses would be in for a terrible shock at sight of two al-Maleks—one very dead, the other awakening from the effects of an alchemical poison that mimicked death. The true al-Malek would be safe in the bathing room. Fire could not burn ceramic, stone, and water.

  Shouts of alarm rang out in the hall beyond. Armor clanked and boots clattered on the tile floor.

  Damn it! So much for getting out of here undiscovered. He cursed the demon and Captain Al-Zahar for setting the fire.

  He scooped up a fallen sword and rushed from the room, right into the arms of three armor-clad Royal Guards. He bowled into the first guard, driving his fist into the man's face. Another guard managed a swing, but the Hunter knocked it wide and slammed his hilt into the man's forehead. Dropping below a chop aimed at his head, he brought his elbow up into the man's jaw. The blow lifted the guard from the floor, hurling him backward to collapse in a heap against the wall.