Scales of the Serpent

by Richard A. Knaak

  Lilith magnified the flames. Astrogha shrieked as they licked at his hairy form.

  “You are a fool, Mephisto’s daughter!” he declared, pulling back as best he could. “And therefore welcome to this fool’s nest forged by Lucion! Savor it…for what little time remains…”

  A new and utter blackness enshrouded the spider. Lilith willed the flames forward…but when they reached the corner, there was no longer any Astrogha.

  With her mind, she searched the whole of the temple, but found no trace. Astrogha had not merely fled to safety; he had fled the Triune entirely. Lilith was not overly concerned; she should have slain Diablo’s servant, but he clearly would be of no consequence, anymore. Now the Cult of the Three completely belonged to her.

  No, Lilith thought with a smile as she dismissed the remnants of the struggle to oblivion and once more, as the Primus, assumed her place on the throne. No longer the Cult of the Three. There is only One. There is only Me.

  Feeling quite pleased with herself, she had a sudden desire for the priest Durram’s company. There was time enough for a little entertainment before she dealt with dear Uldyssian. He had forced her to a decision that, in retrospect, would accelerate her dreams to fulfillment. All she needed were a few morlu…

  Lilith giggled at her own thought. Perhaps more than few…

  Astrogha had no regrets about fleeing the temple. He had not expected to be able to defeat the daughter of a Prime Evil, although his effort had allowed him to gauge her for another possible confrontation. She was welcome to the Triune and she and the mortal, Uldyssian, were welcome to the other. Astrogha had not outlived other demons by not knowing when it was best to let others deal with his problems. Let them battle it out, perhaps with the angel, Inarius, also throwing himself into the mix. The survivors—should there be any—would find themselves weakened, of that he was certain. Then…then the spider would pick up the pieces. The notion of a cult such as the Triune still made sense, but one more focused. On himself perhaps.

  Yes, Astrogha liked that thought. From the ruins of this debacle, he would gather humans of his own. There were always those with an almost demonic lust for power. Unlike Lucion, though, Astrogha would maintain tight control over his minions. That had been the trouble; Lucion had lost order, had allowed himself to rely too much on others. Then, when he had finally taken personal control, something had obviously gone wrong. The son of Mephisto had somehow perished.

  No, Astrogha would not make Lucion’s mistakes, nor Lilith’s. Already he could imagine his slaves spreading out to both sides of the world, his symbol—the spider—raised over city after city. There would come the day when no one would recall the Triune or the Cathedral of Light. It would be the cult of Astrogha that finally conquered Sanctuary and made humans its slaves…all for the Prime Evils, of course, and especially, his master.

  All for them…eventually…

  Seventeen

  Although given only an instant, Uldyssian yet managed to devise a plan to readily explain the scene before his followers. Most of it involved the truth, the rest a necessary twisting of it.

  But Achilios gave him no chance to even begin it. The archer threw himself toward the gathered edyrem who, stunned, reacted as people and cleared a path for the dead man. Achilios made good use of their reaction, bolting outside before any could recover.

  “Achilios!” Uldyssian shouted. “Wait!”

  He rushed after his childhood friend, ignoring the clamoring that began among those gathered. To them he ordered, “Get those bodies out of there and see to her! Don’t move her any more than necessary but make her comfortable! Do it!”

  Outside, more edyrem stood in shock, most of them still looking west. Uldyssian ran in that direction, trying to locate the incredibly swift Achilios by both eyesight and higher senses. Yet, the archer was invisible to both.

  As he neared the edge of camp, Uldyssian saw a sentry turn his way. The man, a Parthan, gaped. Uldyssian seized the guard and demanded, “A pale figure! Did he run by here?”

  “No, no one’s come this way—Master Uldyssian?”

  He could explain his miraculous return to the guard when he did so to the rest. Shoving aside the Parthan, Uldyssian entered the jungle. Achilios had to have gone this way, but try as he might, Uldyssian could not sense him at all.

  Defeated, he finally returned to the encampment. By that time, a great mob had gathered near the sentry, who was animatedly describing his encounter with their lost leader. Everyone grew silent when Uldyssian approached, but he had no time for them yet.

  Still, he had to say something. “I’ll tell all later. Return to your rest.”

  It was very doubtful that any of them would sleep, but Uldyssian could only hope. For now, he had to concern himself with Serenthia.

  Those still surrounding the ancient building scattered out of his way as he neared. Without a glance to any of them, Uldyssian entered.

  Serenthia still lay on the floor, but someone had had the presence of mind to set a blanket under her head and another over her torso. Her breathing was regular, for which Uldyssian thanked the stars. Then, he recalled particular stars, those that made up the dragon, and nearly took back his silent gratitude.

  Going down on one knee, Uldyssian touched Serenthia’s face. It was pleasantly warm.

  A slight moan escaped her. Her eyes flashed open and she attempted to rise.

  “Achilios! Achilios! Don’t—don’t leave—” Her strength failed her. Serenthia had to lay her head down again. Despite that, though, she kept her eyes open and repeated over and over the same thing. “Achilios…don’t leave…don’t leave…”

  Uldyssian was caught between relief and jealousy. Serenthia seemed mentally intact and physically unharmed, for which he was grateful, but that her first cries had been for the archer…

  Silently berating himself for his extreme selfishness, Uldyssian leaned nearer. “Serenthia…Serry…do you hear me? How do you feel?”

  “Uldyssian?” Her eyes finally focused on him. “I—I think I’m all right.” She stiffened. “No! That thing! I know it! She’s coming for me! It was—” The merchant’s daughter clutched his arm. “Uldyssian! Lilith! Lilith was coming for me—”

  “I know. I know. Hush, Serenthia! Lilith’s been sent away again—”

  But she was finally beginning to register her unsettling surroundings. “Where—where are we? The last I recall, I was by the river! I sensed her nearness too late! And then it was as if—as if she were inside me! Where are we, Uldyssian? Tell me the truth!”

  There was no way he could keep the truth from her. If Uldyssian even tried, Serenthia was certain to eventually learn everything from the others.

  “Listen to me carefully, Serry,” he murmured. “We will talk about this later—”

  The fire began to return to her. “No, Uldyssian. I need to know now. Tell me.”

  He looked back at the others. “Leave us.”

  They obeyed without protest. Uldyssian used his power to seal the doors behind him, then also blocked those outside from hearing. They would know enough when the time came, but there were some things he felt should remain only between the two of them.

  Someone had wisely left a water pouch near Serenthia and Uldyssian bade her drink first. She willingly swallowed a good portion of the contents, then gave him a look that suggested he stall no longer.

  And so, with a deep breath, Uldyssian told her what he could and what he dared, cutting matters to the bare facts as much as possible. Serenthia listened without interruption save for the occasional gasp. Her face, though, more than once nearly caused Uldyssian to stop, especially when he had to tell the merchant’s daughter what he knew of Lilith’s activities. Revulsion filled Serenthia, but to her credit, she did not lose control.

  Then, Uldyssian came to the moment when Achilios had reentered the situation. Here he finally stopped short, not at all certain just how to go on. Was it better to let her believe that he had been no more than a dream?
r />   She knew that he was trying to leave something significant out of the story and so pressed him.

  Surrendering to the inevitable, Uldyssian chose a different tact. “Serry,” he began in his kindest tone. “Serry, do you remember what you said when you first awoke here? Do you remember at all?”

  “You keep calling me ’Serry,’” she countered, her gaze narrowing. “That can only mean you’ve got something terrible to tell me. What can be worse than what I’ve heard so far and what has it to do with what I said?”

  He could not turn back. “Serry. Think. What did you say? It’s vital.”

  Her brow wrinkled. “Let me think. I was…I was having a dream…or nightmare, I can’t say which. I thought I saw…I thought I saw Achilios. I must’ve still been dreaming when I believed I awoke, because I think what I was doing was calling out his name and…and…” Tears suddenly rolled down her cheeks. “Oh, Uldyssian…I thought he’d come back to me! I thought I’d been blessed with a miracle! But—but it was nothing but my imagination…”

  Uldyssian swallowed. “No.”

  “What—what was that?”

  “Serry…Serenthia…he was here. You didn’t imagine him. Achilios was here.”

  She frowned at him. “Don’t make a jest like that! There’s nothing funny about it at all, Uldyssian! How could you do that?”

  “I never would. It’s not a jest. He was—”

  Pulling back from Uldyssian, Serenthia covered her ears. “Stop! Stop that! Don’t say such things! Achilios is dead! Dead!”

  The building started to quake. Small bits of stone rained down on them. Driven by her grief, Serenthia’s power was affecting their surroundings.

  Uldyssian quickly worked to counter her. The tremor subsided, albeit reluctantly. Serenthia was nearly as strong as him.

  She had not even noticed what she had done. Cyrus’s daughter shook her head back and forth and tears stained her cheeks. Over and over she repeated the archer’s name.

  Mouth set, Uldyssian took hold of her wrists and forced her to listen. “Serenthia! It was Achilios you saw! It was no dream!” He could not bring himself to say that it was no nightmare. Even he had not quite recovered from the shock of seeing his friend. “It was Achilios!”

  Her eyes widened and the tears lessened. Hope filled her expression. “You mean that he’s—he’s—alive?”

  “I…Serenthia…I don’t know what to call what he was…but at least he was still the Achilios we knew and loved. He charged in here when all was lost and managed somehow to stir you to waking. Only because of him, not me, were you able to force Lilith from your body.”

  “I—I remember hearing his voice. I remember I was in darkness. All I wanted to do was sleep…but his voice…I had to follow it! I wanted so much to see him again…” Wiping away a lingering tear, the dark-haired woman surveyed the chamber. “But where is he, then? Achilios!” She started to rise. “Achilios! Don’t hide from me!”

  She teetered. Uldyssian quickly supported her. Serenthia put an arm around his waist, her eyes yet seeking the man she loved.

  “Why won’t he answer me? Why’s he hiding?”

  “He’s not. He ran off when others entered. Serry, I think he’s afraid that you’ll be repulsed by what he’s become.”

  Serenthia gave him an incredulous look. “Why? He’s Achilios!”

  “And he should be dead. Dead. We buried him, remember?” Before she could suggest the obvious, Uldyssian continued, “There was no mistake! The shaft went through his throat! He should be dead!”

  He felt her shiver, but realized that it was not out of fear. “How horrible,” Serenthia murmured, eyeing empty air. “How horrible for him…”

  As she said it, Uldyssian had to admit that a part of him felt the same for his childhood friend. Achilios had obviously been tracking them for some time, perhaps even within days of his killing. Had he meant them any harm, he could have struck several times over. Thus far, Achilios had only acted like the Achilios of old, ever protective of those for whom he cared.

  Especially Serenthia.

  “I’ve got to find him,” she abruptly declared. “I’ve got to find Achilios! He’s all alone out there, fearful to be even with me!”

  “Serry, he may have good reason—”

  Her voice grew sharp. “That’s ridiculous! There’s no good reason for us to be apart. I won’t be deterred. I’m going to find him.”

  Her determination in the face of such drastic events touched Uldyssian deeply. “I’ll stand with you, then, Serry. You have the right of it; Achilios has always been there for us…even now. Whatever he must overcome, we should be there for him, too.”

  That made her finally smile. “Thank you…”

  With his continued assistance, she was finally able to leave the sinister building. Outside, they were immediately surrounded by others, Saron among them. Behind the Torajian stood a group of edyrem who were apparently acting as guards to a small, surly group.

  Their prisoners were the last remnants of those turned by Lilith. They were but a handful, the rest having been sacrificed to the demoness’s madness. Uldyssian recognized all but two and assumed those to be Hashiri. In addition to having the bodies removed, Uldyssian had through his powers secretly passed word to those he felt certain he could trust to locate the guards Lilith had left at the edge of the encampment. From his count, his followers had managed to round up all of them.

  “What shall we do with them, master?” asked Saron. His dark expression gave easy indication of what he would have liked. To the mind of most of the edyrem present, the turned were the foulest of traitors…even if their fall from grace was due to Lilith’s seductions.

  Uldyssian had been unable to save Romus or any of those inside, but he still hoped to salvage these souls. He was already sick of the rising number of dead.

  Then, he recalled Serenthia. However, before he could speak, she whispered, “Go ahead. This must not wait, not even for me…”

  With that, she pulled away so as to give him room. Uldyssian signaled two of his followers to bring the first of the turned to him. As they approached, he sensed the other edyrem managing to keep the power of the prisoner in check. He was impressed by their action, something that they had not been taught by him.

  The man, a Torajian, scowled as Uldyssian leaned into him. He looked ready to spit into his former leader’s face, but evidently thought better of it.

  For what he planned, Uldyssian knew that he would have to touch the prisoner. That would mean more direct contact with Lilith’s taint, but there was nothing that he could do to avoid that if he hoped to save the Torajian.

  With a deep breath, he brought his hands up to each side of the prisoner’s head. The Torajian tried to shake loose, then settled down, glaring.

  Meeting that evil gaze, Uldyssian delved within. He sensed the core of what was the Torajian and how it tied to his power.

  It took him no time at all to find the blackness that the demoness had stirred to raging life. It was so evil that a stunned Uldyssian nearly retreated out of repulsion. Yet, to do so would be to abandon all hope for the man before him.

  After brief consideration, Uldyssian determined that his best chance lay in trying to smother or even remove the darkness. He imagined it like a solid object and used his mind to try to encase it. If it could be forced out—

  Without warning, the blackness erupted into pure, monstrous fury. Uldyssian barely had a chance to withdraw his mind—

  —and no opportunity at all to prevent the prisoner from tearing free from his guards as if they were nothing and clamping his hands around Uldyssian’s throat.

  Sharp agony filled Uldyssian as the Torajian squeezed. Intense heat wracked his throat, the escaped prisoner using his own edyrem powers in addition to his brute strength. If not for the son of Diomedes having already had some protections up, he would have been dead already.

  “I will rip out your throat and drink your blood!” snarled the Torajian madly. His face d
istorted, his eyes bulging as if about to pop out and his mouth stretching wide. His teeth grew sharper and his tongue—now forked—darted in and out like a wild snake. “I will—”

  He screamed, his hands releasing Uldyssian’s throat at the same time. The Torajian took a step back, his body blazing. He attempted once to douse the mysterious but voracious flames…and then burned away into a pile of black ash.

  From behind him, Uldyssian heard Serenthia’s weary voice. “I had—to—do it. There was nothing—nothing left to save, Uldyssian.”

  He nodded wordlessly, then, rubbing his throat, surveyed the rest of the prisoners. They did not look at all fearful, but rather full of malice. Uldyssian contemplated searching deeper in the hope of finding some chance for their redemption, but recalled too well what had just happened. Lilith had taken into account that someone, perhaps even him, might seek to save those she had turned. The demoness had made that impossible.

  Which left Uldyssian with only one bitter choice.

  “Stand away from them,” he commanded their guards.

  Saron quickly protested. “Master, it might not be safe to do—”

  “Stand away from them.”

  They obeyed, but still used their combined might to keep the prisoners at bay. Unfortunately, Uldyssian could not permit them to continue to do that, either, for fear that they might be harmed by what he planned.

  “Release them,” he ordered. Before Saron could speak anew, Uldyssian added, “I’ll deal with the problem. Do as I say.”

  He sensed the moment that they obeyed and then the one when the prisoners realized that their power was theirs again. Yet, before any of them could become a threat, Uldyssian concentrated.

  The turned edyrem froze. Even then, though, he could feel their evil struggles.

  “Away with you,” Uldyssian grimly uttered.

  A wind picked up around the turned, a fierce wind that touched only them.

  As if made of sand, Lilith’s creatures literally blew away. The wind ripped up the particles and flung them high, high into the night. Uldyssian did not let his concentration falter as he made that gust throw what had once been men far from his followers. If any trace of the demoness’s taint remained, he did not want it to affect anyone else.