"I then told them the truth. My love was shocked beyond belief to discover we were no longer obtaining our essence from the lignite ore we found below the ground. The loremasters couldn't believe their gods had betrayed them.
"I let them think. They needed to come to the conclusions that I had on their own — it is no easy thing, to rise up against your gods. The shock was replaced with rage, as I knew it would be.
"Yet the revelations did not stop there. When I next spoke with these ten humans — my lover and the nine loremasters— I had their full attention. This is when I told them.
"The Evermen planned a great project. My brothers wanted to open their first door to another world. For this they would need essence, always more essence. A great number of humans were to be harvested like wheat.
"The humans rose up, all of them. And so I, Evrin Evenstar, Lord of the Sky, led the revolt against the gods. The struggle was long and bitter, and in the process I was captured by my former brothers.
"They stripped my powers from me. I was rescued by my human allies, but my love was… killed… while I was held captive."
Ella looked at Miro, and then at Amber with her babe in her arms. She saw Bartolo and Shani standing close together. Rogan had a far off look in his eyes. Jehral had a wife back in the desert, Ella remembered. Ella shied away from looking at the prince.
"I'm sorry," Ella said.
"I won't say more, but against all odds we won. You… won. You cast off the shackles of your overlords.
"Yet even in victory, and even with the death of my love, I could not kill my brethren. I gave them a choice: to die, or to flee through the portal into their new world. They left, but not before the Lord of the Night said his parting words. He said you humans would not be able to control your emotions; you are too filled with love and hate, ambition and aggression. You would not be able to rule yourselves, and if you called, the Evermen would return.
"I vowed not to rule the humans as my brothers had. Instead, I looked on and stayed silent as you fought amongst yourselves, though it pained me to see. I watched and did nothing as the nine loremasters formed nine separate houses. Each house took a land for their own, and a colour, and then I watched in silence as builders fought enchanters, animators fought illusionists, and chaos took the land.
"With no lore of their own, the templars stayed neutral, and as they were the only ones who knew how to operate the machines in Stonewater, they enjoyed a special status, able to shape the events of the war of the houses and bide their time until a victor became clear.
"I stayed silent, deciding my role was to intervene only when the most dangerous magic came into your possession, such as the Primate with his elixir, and the discovery of the portal inside the Sentinel.
"Eventually the Tingarans became dominant, leading to the formation of the Tingaran Empire and the banishment of the Akari — who were never one of the nine — to the north.
"The templars continued to occupy Stonewater, a sacred place even for the Evermen, and a distorted truth was put out, what you call the Evermen Cycles. Still, I did nothing as my brothers came to be worshipped, and the story of the brave humans who cast off their overlords was forgotten.
"At least…" Evrin said. "At least now some of those who will shape what the Tingaran Empire will become have heard this story. Perhaps this was my fault. Perhaps I should have let the truth be known earlier. But who would have listened? Would you believe me, if you hadn't been here to witness what happened today?
"There are so many of you who revere the Evermen. If they ever return, you will not only face their incredible powers, unlike anything you have ever seen before… You will face your own people, those who will mindlessly follow their god wherever he leads."
There was silence except for the sound of the waves crashing against the Sentinel's island as they each digested Evrin's words.
"If that ever happens," Miro finally said. "You will fight by our side, as you once did?"
"I will," Evrin said, "although since my powers were taken from me, there is little I can do. I have my knowledge of the runes, but that is all."
"Your lover…" Amber said. "Did you ever have a child?"
All eyes were suddenly on the old man. Ella looked again at his piercing blue eyes and the flecks of ginger in his beard. When Evrin hung his head, and a look of infinite sadness crossed his visage, Ella felt the blood drain from her face.
"Yes," Evrin said. "I never knew for sure, but yes, I believe we did have a child. And I think my child might have had a child of their own, and that perhaps I have a descendant, living today.
"I think I might have just sent him to his death."
Epilogue
PRIMATE Melovar Aspen had one last surprise left in store for the world he had plunged into war and then departed with his death.
His veins had flowed with raj nilas, the substance he had called elixir. Never had so much of essence's opposite taken residence in a man's body. Never had the two liquids been brought together in such concentration.
When the Primate perished, the violent clash of raj nilas meeting raj ichor caused his body to disintegrate, a result not attributable to essence alone. His skin fell off in slabs, the limbs fell from his body, and his face came away from his skull.
Deep within the individual cells that joined to make up the rapidly dissolving tissues, the raj nilas bubbled and fizzed angrily. Each miniscule droplet struggled to retain its form, desperate to maintain a separate identity to the raj ichor around it. It was a fight with an inevitable outcome, as finally the two liquids met and combined.
The essence easily swallowed the elixir within its much greater volume, but nevertheless, the raj ichor was changed.
The Primate's burning blood was now part of the pool.
The shift in the nature of the liquid that resided in the pool would have first been noticed by a new odour, tart and unpleasant. Yet the chamber within the Sentinel was empty and devoid of life.
As the sun passed over the Sentinel day after day, the composition of the fluid slowly altered. It retained most of the properties of essence, but it also developed some new properties.
Slowly, steadily, the liquid began to eat through the stone of the low wall around it.
Little by little, day by day, the fluid chipped at the stone, finding infinitely small cracks and dissolving the edges of the fissures until a seam opened up. When the seam tunnelled through to the wall's outer edge, a single droplet of black liquid spilled out and onto the floor of the chamber with a hiss.
More time passed, and the steady steam of droplets became a trickle. The eating away of the wall now increased rapidly as the fluid hungrily found the path of escape, burrowing like a creature in the dirt, increasing the size of the opening with each moment that passed.
A watcher would have seen the level of the liquid decrease at a noticeable pace.
The liquid ran down the floor and found the spiral stairs. As it flowed down it ate into the soft stone of the stairs, until the stairway was gone, and the fluid ran down from above like a small waterfall.
And then the pool was dry.
The three seals on the portal went first. They worked by draining the power from the pool; with no power left to drain, the seals ceased to function.
The shimmering silver surface of the portal shifted to burnt gold as it came to life.
The beacon sounded, shrill and overwhelming, rising and falling with each peal of its call.
The portal was open for a long instant before its innate power faded. In that brief window in time, a figure stepped out.
The portal closed behind him. The beacon stilled.
The man looked around the chamber.
He was tall and clad in rich black velvet, with diamonds set in silver on the cuffs of his long sleeves and a pendant of shining white crystal on a silver chain around his neck. His features were fine, almost delicate, and his eyes were a shade of intense blue, as light as the sky yet dead as the grave.
His lips were set with resolve and the lines of his forehead were cruel, while around his mouth there were only the marks of displeasure. This was not a man who smiled often.
His hair was severely pulled back from his forehead and it was a unique colour, blood-red, with the occasional lines of black at his temples.
Sentar Scythran, Lord of the Night, stood on the pedestal and turned, frowning and looking back at the portal behind him. Its colour had shifted to silver to indicate it was no longer powered.
He took three steps down until he stood on the floor of what had once been a pool filled with essence. Squatting down, the Lord of the Night ran his fingertips over the dry floor and sighed. He straightened and looked around the chamber, remembering when he had last been in this place, on the day of his defeat.
He had always known he would one day return. The humans were weak, no doubt fighting amongst themselves as always, and ready to welcome him home.
The Lord of the Night inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of a world he had left behind an eon ago. He was pleased to have returned, but the homecoming was tinged with sadness, for the way was now closed to his brothers.
A great weight had been placed on his shoulders. He would need an army, he knew, if he wanted to once more fill this pool with essence and open the way for his brothers. He would need to bring many of the humans under his dominion.
He walked forward, stepping over the low stone wall that rimmed the basin, now eaten away, until he stood at the summit of the opening where once there had been a stairway. The Lord of the Night knelt down again and touched his finger to a glistening spot, where the last trace of wetness remained.
He smiled. Essence.
A moment later Sentar Scythran, the Lord of the Night, floated down the empty stairwell.
He soon stood triumphantly in the open air, beside the great statue, gazing up at the stars, wondering on which one of the worlds above his brothers waited expectantly.
The Lord of the Night had returned.
Acknowledgements
This book would never have been written without the encouragement and support of those around me – from Mark Moxon (an inspirational fellow whose travel writing shouldn't be missed) to my editor Lyn Worthen.
I'd like to thank my sisters, Caroline and Liz, both great sources of motivation, and my parents Maureen and David, for ceasing to be surprised at where I'm off to next.
Thanks go to my friend Marc, for valuable input and fantastic designs.
Most of all, I want to thank my wife, Alicia.
Without you there would be no dream to follow.
Rogan was her creation.
THE PATH OF THE STORM
The epic sequel to THE HIDDEN RELIC
Out 16 June 2013
Find James Maxwell Online
www.JamesMaxwell.com
Follow the author @james_maxwell
www.facebook.com/JamesMaxwellWriter
Table of Contents
Map
Prologue
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
Epilogue
Table of Contents
Map
Prologue
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
Epilogue
The Hidden Relic (The Evermen Saga, Book Two) Page 42
