Then, Uldyssian thought about all the deaths instigated by her mad ambitions and most of the desire faded. To the demon, the lives lost had been minor matters. She had cared nothing for Serenthia’s father, for Master Ethon and his son Cedric, or Bartha, or any of the scores of Parthans and Torajians thus far slaughtered. Certainly Lilith had not had an iota of remorse even for the priests she had slaughtered, including the missionaries whose bloody demise had begun the chain of events.
Most of all, she had cared nothing for her brother, the true Primus. Clearly his destruction had merely been so that she could seize the power base that he had created in the Triune. However, that prize was one she would not long be able to savor, if he had his way.
“This temple’s fallen, Lilith,” Uldyssian declared. “What those with me haven’t torn down the flames your puppets set loose will consume. The same fate will befall the next and the next…until the great one itself near Kehjan is the last. Then…it’ll join the rest. You’ll serve as Primus for a very short time.”
“Will I, my dear Uldyssian?” Her tail slapped lightly on the floor, sending odd bits of the senior priest scattering. Lilith leaned forward, letting her ample bounty display itself unhindered. “But how splendid…as that is exactly what I want!”
Her pronouncement startled Uldyssian. Belatedly, he realized that his mouth hung open. Face flushing, he closed it, then tried to gather his thoughts. Yet again, Lilith had proven her mastery over him with but a few words.
“Yes,” the succubus said, smiling widely. Her inhuman eyes flashed with enjoyment at his consternation. “I want you to take down the Triune! I want you to put an end to the temple…”
“But—” Uldyssian finally managed. “That makes no sense whatsoever. Now that you control the Triune…”
“Ahh, but it makes perfect sense, my love! It makes perfect sense! It is a sign of my affection for you that I tell you all this, which even my unlamented brother’s servants do not know! Yes, my little nephalem…you will destroy the temple for me…and the Cathedral of Light, too…”
But if Lilith desired something of him, Uldyssian desperately thought, telling him would surely make the man want to do just the opposite…
She either read that thought—not impossible for her—or simply understood his mind better than he. “Oh, but my dear Uldyssian! You will not have any choice in the matter! You see, if you do not do your best to stir your nephalem powers to greater life—and also those latent in the fools that follow you—I will have the Triune utterly crush you! Do you think that this is all my poor brother gathered to him? There is so much more! My brother was very clever, his only mistake was in underestimating me—”
Suddenly, Lilith stood face-to-face with Uldyssian. How she had gotten so near without him aware of it, he could not say.
“—just as you, too, always have, poor darling!”
Before Uldyssian could stop her, the demon kissed him soundly. She had done the same in the past and so he should have been prepared for it. With as much irritation at himself as hatred toward her, Uldyssian grabbed for Lilith, but the demon slipped from his grasp.
“I won’t do as you plan, damn you!” he growled. “I’m through playing your puppet! I’ll not create an army of nephalem ready to do your bidding!”
That was what she truly wanted, he knew too well. She had been among those who had created Sanctuary, but for her murderous ways—including slaying most of her companions—she had been exiled by her lover…an angel, if Lilith could be believed about anything. Those murders had revolved around the children—the first nephalem—born through the unions of the renegade demons and angels. Uldyssian could grant her credit for wishing to save them, but now it seemed that all their descendants mattered to her was as fodder or soldiers to use in her mad campaign of vengeance.
“Will you not?” she teased. “Will you not, dear love?” The demoness pulled back. “Then, why have you not attacked me yet?”
Lilith had him again…but for the last time, Uldyssian swore. He stretched out a hand toward her—
The air around the demoness started to ripple…but Lilith was no longer there. Instead, Uldyssian felt her materialize behind him.
“Much improved, my darling Uldyssian…much improved.”
He did not turn to face her, instead merely concentrating on where she was.
But…again, he was too late.
Now Lilith’s voice echoed throughout the chamber, though she herself was nowhere to be seen. “However, you still need a little more practice, I think! After all, you must be your best when facing the power of the Triune…much less sweet, treacherous Inarius.”
Try as he might, Uldyssian could not sense Lilith anywhere and that told him just how insufficient all his might was. He had expected to be able to face her much better than this, but, as before, both emotionally and physically she had played him perfectly.
“Come and face me, Lilith!” Uldyssian shouted as he turned in a circle. He sought her in every dark corner, but there was nothing, absolutely nothing save her voice, projected from far, far away.
“All in good time, my love. A little more practice first. Why, you can start by perhaps still saving some of your friends! You have so few left already…”
Her voice faded away. Caught up in his anger, he did not at first pay heed to her last comments. Then…then Uldyssian felt the terrible threat without, a threat he could only assume that Lilith’s cunning skills had shielded from his “vaunted” perceptions.
Rather than keeping Mendeln, Serenthia, and the rest safe, he had left them right where the demoness had wanted them.
Three
In a place that was not a place, the black-shrouded figure stared beyond his empty surroundings into that realm called Sanctuary by the knowledgeable few. He noted the terrible strife overtaking the city of Taraja and had already begun calculating the possible repercussions.
“He is moving too quickly,” the shadowed man said to the emptiness. “Too irrationally…”
He moves as he must…as do we…
The voice would have stilled the heart of most, for it was as much presence as it was sound. Yet, the one to whom it spoke merely nodded, for he had known the speaker so long that even its uniqueness had become too familiar.
Failure had also become too familiar, and he did not want to face it again. Failure threatened the Balance and despite centuries of learning to focus his emotions inward—where they could be controlled—a deep frown slowly spread across his marblelike countenance.
“Then…we must become more active…”
As he spoke, above him there suddenly glittered what seemed to be stars. Yet these stars moved, gradually forming an immense, serpentine figure, a creature half-seen, half-imagined…and to most, completely myth.
A dragon…
More active than the initiating of his birth brother? the stars asked, the tone invoking irony.
“More…” the shrouded figure returned defiantly, “although Mendeln ul-Diomed is far exceeding my expectations. I would almost swear that he…”
Is directly of your blood, yes…it would also explain why she chose the elder sibling for her goals. You sensed the strength slumbering in them. So would she.
“My mother would, you’re correct. So, too, would my father…” His frown deepened. “Yes, so, too, would my father.”
The stars swirled, briefly losing resemblance to the fabled beast. Of whom we have heard nothing…
The man nodded, his focus once more attuned to Sanctuary. “Yes, and that troubles me more than anything.”
As it should…The shape coalesced again. Yes…a more active role must be taken, just as you have said…
Wrapping his voluminous cloak about him, the hooded figure prepared to leave. “As I said,” he murmured more to himself than to his vaguely seen companion. “Even if it means revealing my survival to both my parents…”
Mendeln expected to die. He watched as the hammer fell, knowing that he would never move s
wiftly enough to escape it. None of the words in the strange tongue that he had begun to learn in his dreams came to him. A crushing death was to be his imminent fate, and although he tried to be as detached to that realization as he had become to so many other fateful moments of late, Mendeln nonetheless felt an overwhelming bitterness. He had believed that some other destiny awaited him—
Someone collided with him. Both figures tumbled to the side just as Dialon’s hammer smashed into the marble floor, creating a fissure of broken stone more than half a dozen yards in length.
“Next time don’t dream. Act,” muttered Serenthia in his ear. She leapt to her feet before Uldyssian’s brother could offer any kind of thanks…and with good reason. Dialon’s effigy turned on her, almost as if, despite the unreadable expression, the statue was furious at Serenthia for taking from it its prey.
Serenthia took aim with her spear, throwing it with accuracy enhanced by her powers. It drove through the giant’s chest much the way Uldyssian had earlier sent the arrow through the priest’s.
At first, Mendeln thought her heroic action had been all for nothing, for Dialon moved unperturbed by the gap in its torso. After all, it was only animated stone…
But then fine cracks quickly spread forth from the hole, racing along until they covered the statue’s body with what looked almost like a web. As the effigy raised its hammer, portions of the giant began breaking off.
Serenthia gave out a warning cry to those in the vicinity of Dialon. They backed away just in time, for the hand wielding the murderous tool chose that moment to break off. As even the statue itself watched, both dropped to the floor, shattering in pieces that spread throughout the chamber.
No sooner had Dialon lost its hand, then the rest of the limb followed. That opened the floodgates, huge chunks of the stone goliath dropping like rain. The effigy looked down at its crumbling body—and the neck snapped.
As the head crashed in front of Mendeln and Serenthia, what was left of Dialon joined the wreckage.
But there were two other giants with which to contend, two giants making savage sweeps across the chamber as they hunted the tinier figures. However, Mendeln gave thanks to whatever watched over the humans, for despite their attempts, the behemoths were having little good luck since the initial slaughter. He wondered at that until he saw the hand of Mefis bounce off of the air just before Romus and a small band of Parthans and Torajians. The bearded man—a villain reformed by Uldyssian—looked to be the guiding force of this group. He stared at the menacing figure, almost seeming to defy it to break through.
There was still a good chance that it might just do that. Mendeln decided that it was time he lent his hand to the matter rather than stand around gaping while others merely struggled to survive. The shadowy gift that he had been granted had to be of some use now…
Words finally flowed through his head, words in that archaic language first glimpsed on the stone just outside Seram. They were the ones Mendeln knew that he had to speak and so Uldyssian’s brother did just that.
Hands formed into fists, the statue battered at the invisible barrier. Yet, as the first blows struck, the giant was repelled. Cracks materialized in the giant body and chips broke off as if something unseen had fought against the effigy with the same violence with which the latter had attacked Romus’s band.
Mendeln allowed himself the ghost of a satisfied smile. Undeterred by the damage to it, Mefis renewed its assault. Yet, each hit caused more and more damage. Driven by whatever dark force had animated it, the giant would not cease. It did not understand that the magic Mendeln somehow knew was making it the instrument of its own destruction.
Romus, on the other hand, evidently understood. He gestured for those with him to remain calm and wait out the situation. The statue of Mefis was strong and that tremendous strength—turned on itself—quickly reduced the giant to a precarious state. At last, great portions of the statue already piled around its feet, Mefis collapsed.
That left only Bala…or, it would have, if the third of the great statues had not suddenly frozen. The robed figure—in the act of leaning down to swat three Torajians with the tablets—teetered, then tipped over. But Bala did not fall in the direction his balance would have demanded. Rather than plunge forward—toward his would-be victims—the effigy went against common sense and dropped backward.
Only as it smashed to pieces on the floor did the reason for its sudden and peculiar destruction become obvious. Uldyssian, his aspect even more grim than Mendeln’s, stepped through the immense pile of shattered stone, the path ever clearing ahead of him.
Mendeln did not like what he read in his older brother’s eyes. He had not made it clear to Serenthia that Uldyssian faced not merely a pair of demons, but Lilith herself. Had she known that, the merchant’s daughter would have attempted to plunge in ahead of even the demoness’s former lover. After all, Lilith was as guilty, if not more so, in the death of Achilios than Lucion—who had merely been the physical cause. Lilith it had been who had drawn all of them into this.
Lilith, whose memory would no doubt tear at Uldyssian’s heart until he was dead.
Mendeln’s brother glared at the losses caused by the statues. “Damn her…”
Fortunately, Serenthia had turned to help one of the injured. That gave the siblings a moment to confer.
“Nothing was resolved…” Mendeln offered.
“Nothing…” Uldyssian continued to survey the dead. “Too many…”
The younger brother refrained from making any comment. He understood that his own recent opinions concerning death did not always sit well with Uldyssian.
What sounded like a great rumble of thunder shook the temple. Uldyssian glanced up, his expression hardening yet further.
“The fires and other damage have taken their own toll. The temple’s about to collapse.” He stepped past Mendeln. “Leave now!” he shouted to the rest. “Our task is done here!”
It was a measure of the utter command Uldyssian had that no one even hesitated. The dead were left where they were. It was not that they were so readily forgotten, just that the survivors knew that their leader would not have ordered them out without good reason. Some helped in carrying the wounded away, whom Uldyssian would surely attempt to heal later.
Mendeln turned his gaze back to his brother…and his studious gaze noted a sudden strain in the other’s expression.
“Uldyssian—”
“I said that we all need to leave now.” Uldyssian’s voice remained even, but the vein in his neck had begun throbbing.
There was a second rumble, but much more muted. Mendeln noted an increase in the throbbing.
“As you say,” he finally replied as calmly as possible. “But the doors are sealed—”
“No, not anymore.”
Mendeln took his brother’s reply as truth and, sure enough, he turned just in time to see the formerly sealed doors fling themselves open just as the first of Uldyssian’s followers reached them. None of the others questioned this; they had the utmost faith that he would see them through anything.
“They need to move faster…” Uldyssian growled under his breath.
Nodding, Mendeln increased his pace. “Do not lag,” he called to the rest. “Be wary but swift.”
From farther on, Serenthia caught his eye. Her own gaze informed Mendeln that she understood the truth concerning the situation. Like Uldyssian’s sibling, she did her utmost to quietly usher out the others.
Another rumble briefly shook the temple. Cracks appeared in the walls and ceiling, but otherwise the edifice remained fairly intact. The only fragments on the floor were the result of the earlier conflicts.
Mendeln felt the warm night air rush at him as he neared the outside. Aware of what they faced, he counted each step as if they were as important as the beats of his heart. It would have been simple to tell the others to run, to flee from the area before it was too late, but that would have only caused more calamity.
Flames illuminated t
he outdoors. In their awful light, Mendeln glimpsed some other parts of Toraja. The tree-lined streets were most obvious, their foliage the home of the serka—small simians revered by the populace. There were also the tall, rounded buildings with their columns carved to resemble one powerful beast standing atop another. The work was so intricate that some of the animals almost seemed to be gazing in concern at the conflaguration surrounding them. In truth, there would be no stopping the fire from consuming the immediate district, not that Ulydssian would have cared. The serka had long fled the area and everything else here bore the mark of the Triune.
The mix of Parthans and Torajians spilled out beyond the temple grounds. Mendeln finally took a glance back at the giant structure.
Only to his eye was the constant quivering evident in the dark. Flames now covered most of the roof. Crevasses ran over the face of the building and no doubt lined every other part of it as well. Some columns farther on had cracked in half and fallen down. A major fault ran across the base on the western side.
It should have collapsed by now, he decided. It should have collapsed on our heads…
But it had not and the taut-faced figure coming up next to him was the sole reason why. Sweat poured over Uldyssian and his breathing came in rapid gasps. His gaze darted left and right, as if he sought to take account of everyone.
“No one remains behind,” Mendeln assured him. “No one living, that is. Even the last of the brethren have fled.”
“Into the…jungle…if they know what’s good for…them,” Uldyssian managed to grate. He stood there, obviously weighing his decision.
“It is safe to let go,” his brother softly assured.
Nodding, Uldyssian exhaled.
With a terrible roar and a wrenching of stone from stone, the Torajian temple caved in on itself. Massive blocks of marble tumbled into the courtyard. Bursts of flame shot up into the night as the open air fed their fury. Gasps arose from several of Uldyssian’s followers. Romus let out an oath.
Huge chunks of marble continued to spill over the area, yet none of them came close to where the band stood. Even now, some part of Mendeln’s brother kept the devastation in check.
Scales of the Serpent Page 4
