“Get out of my head,” Alicia snapped, clutching her temples. “And if he didn’t, then who in Hell did?”
You may just be closer to the truth than you think, Trebor thought to himself.
“First, I need to show everyone else what happened,” Trebor said, “if only to get their opinion without clouding it with my suspicions. Nothing grotesque, just the lead up encounter, okay? This is going to feel a little weird, Alicia, but I promise it won’t hurt you. With your permission?”
She stared at him suspiciously. She was understandably loathe to have the others see first-hand any of what had happened to her, even if she didn’t understand how it would be possible, but Trebor read something else in her thoughts. Confusion. Hope? A part of her didn’t believe it was Danner either, and it was that part that Trebor prayed would let her go through with it.
“You can trust Trebor, Alicia,” Michael said from beside her, his voice calm and confident. “Your brother and Garnet are our friends, and they’re Danner’s friends, too. We want to know the truth almost as much as you. Trebor can help us find out what happened, and I don’t imagine you would want to hurt anyone if they were innocent. Right?”
Alicia nodded but did not lessen her hostile stare one bit as she turned again to look at Danner. The doubt in her mind intensified, but none of it showed through to her face.
Michael kept a dubious eye on her, but let it pass. “Good. Trebor?”
Trebor opened the memory of the pre-rape portion of the encounter, while simultaneously kything into the others’ minds. It was difficult to do with so many people at once, but he managed. One and all, excluding Faldergash – who sat beside Danner in confused concern – they experienced the horror of Alicia’s experience. They not only saw what happened, but Trebor allowed them to feel her horror and helplessness as Danner’s likeness systematically immobilized and terrorized her. He ended the experience before anything truly horrific began – those memories were simply too invasive and horrendous for him to contemplate sharing with anyone. Had he been able to scrub the images from his own mind, he would have done so without hesitation.
They were all in furious tears by the time Trebor closed the kything. He glanced at Danner to gauge his reaction and saw his friend staring at his own hands in horror. After experiencing something like that, Danner was no doubt questioning his sanity and wondering if he had done such a heinous crime and somehow didn’t remember doing it.
“Don’t worry, Danner,” Michael said, likewise seeing his friend’s distress. “Trebor, unless I’m mistaken, you have something to ask us. Something about that Danner image.”
“Right. Did anyone notice anything… unnatural about him?”
“You mean the overpowering sense of evil coming from it?” Danner asked suddenly. They stared at him in surprise. “You mean you guys couldn’t feel it?”
“I could, just a little bit,” Flasch said, “but that was enough. It made me want to run in terror to the nearest patch of holy ground for protection.”
Michael and Marc both said they hadn’t felt anything out of the ordinary. Garnet thought he might have felt something, but wasn’t sure.
“That wasn’t what I was expecting, but it confirms things,” Trebor said. He’d never heard of someone experiencing something like that while kything another’s memories, but then these were abnormal circumstances. “I didn’t notice it at first, but when I went back for a closer look, I saw a glimmer of fire in that Danner’s eyes. It was only there for a second, and at first it seemed just the glow of a fire or something reflected. But then I saw it came from inside his eyes.”
“The demon!” Danner gasped. “One of The Three.”
Quickly he related the attack from the road when Selti had bested the red dakkan, which his uncle had identified as one of The Three come to the mortal plane.
“That’s why he was sent away with your father on the jintaal,” Danner said to Garnet. “He already knew The Three had crossed, and he was sent with the others to hunt the demons.”
At Michael’s request and Alicia’s acquiescence, they all viewed the images preceding her rape again, and this time they all saw the glimpse of flame Trebor had seen. They discussed the issue for another hour or so, and eventually they all believed, even Alicia. She was ashamed of how she’d felt about Danner, and avoided him for the rest of the night.
As they settled themselves around the living room to sleep, one additional problem burned in Danner’s mind. The glimpse of fire in the Danner-demon’s eyes had been disturbingly similar to the fire in his uncle’s eyes.
Chapter 26
One must be aware of a risk before one can be called courageous. Between cowardice and brashness lies the virtue of courage.
- “An Examination of Prismatic Virtue” (801 AM)
- 1 -
Birch stepped back from the rail and brushed the hair back from his eyes. His ponytail was unbound and the loose strands whipped free in the salty wind that whistled over the side of the ship. After waiting two additional days for repairs to their ship, a sudden squall had delayed their departure from Ankor, which – as Garet pointed out – didn’t smell any better wet than it did dry. After the better part of a week trapped in the city, Birch was ready to swim to Den-Furral rather than stay another night in the forsaken town.
Finally the ship was ready and they set out, but the rushed repairs and subsequent storm had left some lingering damage to the vessel, and they were sailing slowly to avoid any more-serious damage that could endanger the ship. Thus, they were still more than a day’s sail from the treacherous Thorn Straits, and from there it would be at least three or four days until they reached the port at Den-Furral, the dwarven city where they would disembark. It was there that the Prismatic Council had reports of the strong demonic presence, and there that Birch thought he might find one of The Three.
It was there that Birch hoped to get some answers. Perhaps in a direct confrontation with a demon from Hell, some of the gaps in his memory would be filled.
A termeron broke through the water beside the ship and soared through the air for a long moment, then the man-sized flying fish disappeared once more beneath the waves.
A light footstep behind him warned Birch of someone’s approach. In the corner of his eye, he saw a violet-colored flutter and knew it was Wein Drolgis. Birch could practically feel the other’s animosity and thought the Violet was probably debating whether to try and push Birch off the edge of the boat. There was certainly no love lost between them, for all that Wein still tried to keep an appearance of politeness about him, and they had been nothing but civil to each other’s faces for the last several days. But Birch saw through the thin façade to the resentment and suspicion broiling beneath. So far as Birch knew, Wein had no just reason to feel that way toward him, short of their first encounter when Birch had shamed him. But he couldn’t be carrying that grudge for so long, could he?
Finally Birch turned, not bothering to pretend he hadn’t known the other was there.
“Did you need something, brother?” Birch asked.
“James said he wanted to speak to you, Birch,” Wein replied, perhaps deliberately ignoring Birch’s mode of address. “I told him I’d come find you.”
“How kind of you,” Birch murmured. “I was just passing time by the rail as usual. You know, I never really appreciated the feel of wind before.” Birch was deliberately stalling, hoping to find out if Wein had another reason for offering to find him. “Did you know there’s no wind in Hell? It’s true. There’s no wind, but there’s still waves in the water.”
“I thought Hell was a place of fire and damnation,” Wein said with a shrug. Birch thought he detected more than a casual interest.
“That’s just a romantic notion,” Birch scoffed. “When you think about it, what poet, historian, playwright, or wise man has ever actually been to Hell and could describe it? Oh, there’s flame aplenty, but there’s also water and ice. There’s every weather and climate you can imagine… bu
t there’s no life there. You were right about the damnation part. There’s nothing but dead souls there, and the unfortunate few who sold their souls and betrayed…”
Wein peered intently at Birch, risking a chance of locking with his eyes.
“Betrayed what? Who?” Wein asked.
“I don’t remember,” Birch said finally, his voice suddenly tired. “I knew when I was saying it, but the second I stopped to think about what I was saying, I forgot.”
“Convenient,” Wein muttered beneath his breath. Birch heard him anyway, but chose to ignore it.
“Well, you said James was waiting for me, yes? Let’s not keep him any longer then.”
They rejoined the others in the aft cabin where James, Vander, and Birch slept. They were all seated around the table, which flipped upside down to become Birch’s bed, and James motioned with a wave for them to sit. Wein stumbled to a seat as the ship lurched beneath them, but Birch settled down easily enough.
Birch opened his mouth to speak, then caught the pensive look on Garet’s face. The giant Red paladin was looking at a four-inch, roughly carved, wooden sword held in one hand, a distant look in his eyes.
“Garet?” Birch asked. “What’s on your mind?”
“My family,” Garet replied. “Always.” He turned over the tiny sword in his hand. “My eldest son made this for me when he was a boy. It was a year before he could give it to me, though, I was gone so long. I’m gone from them far too often, I think.”
None of the paladins said a word for a moment.
“It’s a heavy burden we bear,” James said softly, his eyes distant. “The sacrifices we make keep the world safe.”
“There are days when that’s a small comfort, brother,” Garet said. Then he looked up and smiled faintly. “Then there are days like today, where we race towards what might be the worst threat our world has known in a millennium, and no sacrifice is too much to ask to keep them safe.”
Perklet smiled at him and said quietly, “They’re worth it.”
They were silent again, allowing the moment to settle over them all.
“What’s on your mind, James?” Birch asked finally. “You wanted to speak with me?”
“Garet, Vander, and I were just talking, and we realized how little you’ve told us about your experiences.”
“By that, you mean my twenty years in Hell,” Birch replied evenly.
“Exactly,” James said. “Now I realize it’s probably not the easiest thing to talk about, but if we’re going to be taking on demons with the power of The Three, there might be something you can tell us that will help with our hunt, such as it is.”
Birch nodded, then shrugged.
“Alright then. What do you want to know? Where should I start?”
James blinked, obviously not expecting Birch to agree so readily.
“Well, I hold to the general principle that the beginning is usually the best place to start, but if anyone else…”
“How did you escape?” Wein said, practically pouncing on James’s words. The others glanced at him in surprise. Wein’s feelings were, by now, well-known to the rest of the group. The Violet paladin barely held back a sneer at their reaction.
Wein knew he was the only one who saw through the clever deceptions and devilish tongue of the Gray one, and he knew the day was fast approaching when he could no longer contain his righteous loathing of one so obviously accursed and damned. Then the others would be forced to see him for what he was, a spy for the demons, perhaps a demon himself in human guise. Certainly that would explain why his cloak refused to settle on any of the traditional colors of the Prism. Blue, Green, Red, Orange, Yellow, and Violet – and, of course, White, the sum of all color. What else could Gray signify but impurity?
Wein smiled thinly at the others, then waited for a response.
“Actually, Wein, I’m not entirely sure,” Birch replied after a thoughtful silence. “After I was captured, I spent roughly six years being constantly tortured. When it wasn’t physical, it was mental. When it wasn’t mental torture, it was spiritual. Every shred of my body, mind, and soul was taxed past its limits, and by the end of those years, I was close to my breaking point.”
An unspoken awe hung in the air of the cabin. Each man looked deep within himself and wondered if he would have the strength to last half as long. Without exception, each knew he would have failed far sooner than the man who sat before them. Even Wein recognized this, but any awe he might have felt was buried beneath his thinly disguised skepticism. It was all very well for the Gray one to claim what tortures he’d been through, but Wein thought it more likely he’d sold his soul early on and spent the rest of his time plotting with his evil masters.
“One day, while I lay on a cold slab of stone, blinded for the third time in a month, a voice broke through the blackness and offered to free me. Before you ask, I don’t remember what promises I made, save that they were nothing unconscionable, but suddenly I found myself healed and unbound.” Birch’s voice was flat and devoid of whatever pain he might be feeling as he relived the experience. “My armor and weapons were nearby, as they always were to torment me with dreams of freedom that had gone unrealized until then. I gathered my possessions and fled, then spent the next few months fleeing the demons set on my trail. On the way out I found Selti wandering near his slain dam, gathered him up, and completed my escape.”
Birch fell silent.
“Did you see the face of your mysterious benefactor?” Wein asked intently. One of his instructions from Lord Rathamik Donnor – the head of the Prismatic Council himself! – with whom Wein was in contact, had been to discover whatever details he could about the Gray one’s supposed escape.
Birch regarded Wein silently, as though weighing his intent. Wein suddenly felt dirty, and he silently cursed the man who could make him feel impure just by looking at him. Surely this was further proof of his corruption and how easily it could spread.
“I don’t remember,” Birch replied evenly. His brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to bring the other’s face to mind. “I believe so, but I can’t recall…”
“Birch,” James said abruptly. The Gray paladin responded to the tone of command immediately and snapped his eyes to James’s face. Their eyes locked, and James turned pale. His lips began to tremble, then his shoulders shook with the force of whatever he saw in the fiery pits of Birch’s eyes. Then Birch looked away, his face unreadable.
“Sin, San, and Heaven above,” James said shakily. “Remind me never to do that again.”
“Don’t ever do that again,” Birch replied. The tone of his voice made it no jocular reminder but a statement just short of a command. They stared at Birch, even as James continued to tremble.
Perklet slid nearer to James and laid his hands on his temples. The Green paladin murmured a healing prayer, and color returned to James’s face as his body stopped shaking.
“Take it easy,” Perky said in his usual soft tones. “You were on the verge of going into shock.”
“What did you see?” Nuse asked.
James shook his head. “I’m not sure.”
- 2 -
“Hurry it up, or we’ll leave you behind, Marc,” Flasch called. He leaned to Danner in the seat next to him and murmured, “Gun the engine a little bit, just to worry him.”
Danner complied, applying pressure to the right-hand pedal of the buggy, and he heard the engine growl in response. Danner looked over his shoulder and nearly laughed aloud at the expression on Marc’s face as he sprinted toward the buggy. As his friend got closer, Danner eased the brake and let the buggy roll forward. Marc’s eyes widened and he took three quick steps then leapt for the back of the buggy. Garnet was there to grasp his arms and pull him in, and once Danner saw Marc was secure he floored the accelerator.
With a lurch, the buggy shot forward and Danner let out a whoop of glee. For the last couple days, the six trainees had been experimenting with Faldergash’s new buggy, and Danner thought his gnomish f
riend had finally outdone himself. In only a few seconds, they were racing along faster than the fastest horse could run, and still they hadn’t reached the vehicle’s top speed. Danner eyed the meters that showed him the stress on the engine, then eased off the accelerator to keep a steady speed. With five other people in the buggy there was too much weight to reach top speed anyway, and Danner didn’t want to strain the engine trying.
Danner’s vision and attention were split between the open plain in front of him and the lens that was set toward the center of the dash. Faldergash had realized ─ the hard way, Danner thought ─ that racing along at high speeds was dangerous if the driver couldn’t see far enough ahead of the buggy to steer clear of potential obstacles, and so the gnome had installed a variation on a spyglass on the dash board. The device magnified things up to a hundred yards distant and brought them into relative clarity on the viewing lens so the driver could see it without looking away from the area in front of him. The lens was really only useful at the higher speeds, such as Danner was driving now.
Danner spotted a boulder in the lens and gave it a wide berth, not wanting to overturn the buggy again. Faldergash had nearly had an apoplectic fit when Danner drove back to his place with a bent axle on the front wheels. Fortunately the gnome had been able to readily fix it, but his lecture to Danner about safety had lasted longer than it had taken to repair the damage.
“Michael wants to know how long it will take us to get back to Nocka?” Danner heard inside his head.
“Probably about five minutes, Trebor,” Danner replied. “Tell him not to worry.”
Trebor’s kything made talking on the buggy possible, whereas otherwise their words would be ripped away by the wind the second they were spoken. Practice had enabled them to formulate their thoughts where Trebor could easily pick them up, and he relayed their conversations back and forth as needed.
Hunting The Three (The Barrier War) Page 32
