The morlu dropped.
“Achilios?” she blurted. Through Uldyssian, Serenthia had been alerted to the archer’s presence, but unable to sense him herself, she had only half-believed. Now…
Now the dark-haired woman fought harder. Achilios was with her, even if she had yet to actually see him. He was with her. Whatever the outcome, victory or defeat, they would be together.
Whether in life or in death, they would be together…
Had someone informed Mendeln that he would have the wherewithal to not only survive the severing of his arm but go on as if nothing had happened, he would have thought them mad. Now, he thought himself mad…but did not care. Uldyssian was gone, taken by the demoness. Mendeln could not tell what was at this moment happening to his brother, but it could be nothing good. Lilith had surely had enough of his defiance; she would see to it that he would pay for it and pay dearly.
I wanted to stand at his side, Mendeln bitterly thought. A short time that certainly was…
He considered calling to Rathma and Trag’Oul, but for reasons that he could not explain, held back. Instead, he used his wound and his bitterness to power his work. One morlu after another morlu—the fiends bereft of the demonic essence that animated them—dropped before him. Each casting took its toll upon him, though, something he did not outwardly show. Yet, there were still morlu, too many morlu, and their savage blades continued to get through some edyrem’s shield, splattering the innards of that hapless person over other defenders.
They must all be cast out if we are to win…or even survive…they must be!
A morlu broke through. Rather than attack from behind those battling the Triune, the bestial warrior headed for the children and weaker within the circle. A monstrous grin stretched across the fiend’s unnatural countenance. At the same time, two more slipped through other cracks in the ranks of Uldyssian’s followers. The edyrem had proven themselves several times over; they were just outnumbered and lacked the foul expertise of their foes.
They must be cast out! But he was the only one with that ability and had so far proven wanting. All that the dragon and Rathma had shown or taught him meant nothing. None of their methods or spells had focused on such a monumental and desperate task.
Yet, Mendeln had to try. It still did not mean that the edyrem would be saved, but to simply give up…
And that suddenly gave him an idea of how to come to his brother’s aid. It, too, was a desperate notion…
He pulled the small bone fragment from his pocket. Without hesitation, he said to it, “To my brother. To help him against Lilith.”
The fragment vanished. Mendeln hoped that he had not just made a terrible mistake, but he had not had any other choice.
That left the morlu with which to deal. Bracing himself, Mendeln ran through the words in his head. They had to be arranged just so. He no longer followed his mentors’ examples, but his own.
If the Balance decrees it, Uldyssian’s brother thought. Then it will work…
And if the Balance did not…Mendeln did not want to think about it.
He held the dagger up and began shouting. His spell was his own variation of what he had used already, but now amplified. Yet it was not the words of power alone that he needed. Mendeln threw his will into it, threw everything that he was into it. The morlu were an abomination; they had to be cast out…
From the dagger burst a blinding light which caused Mendeln himself to cry out in surprise. He staggered, suddenly feeling as if his very life were draining from him.
The light spread out among the edyrem and then their enemies. Mendeln watched with hope, with anxiousness, waiting for something to happen. When nothing did, he nearly gave in to his growing weakness.
But then, a morlu flung back his helmet. The ghoulish warrior, his horrific, scarred face fully revealed, took an awkward step in Mendeln’s direction…and then spun around and crashed to the ground.
The one next to the first fell over. A third followed suit.
It is happening! Mendeln cheered. It is happening!
However, it was still happening too slow and the stress on him was becoming overwhelming. He fell to one knee even as an entire row of morlu simply collapsed.
Mendeln cursed his failing body. He also cursed Rathma and Trag’Oul for leaving all of this to him. They spoke of the need to maintain the Balance, but how could that happen if the edyrem were slaughtered here? Of what use was the Balance, then? Why could the dragon not once come out of hiding and act, rather than endlessly preach what others should do?
You speak the truth, came the familiar voice suddenly. You speak the truth, Mendel ul-Diomed…
It was as if Uldyssian’s brother had been asleep all his life and only now had awakened to the forces with which the dragon—and Rathma, Mendeln sensed—filled him to overflowing. Mendeln rose full of hope, full of power.
Power which he focused on the dagger…and his spell.
The light shone so bright that surely even those awake in the capital should have seen it. All around him, the combatants froze in astonishment.
And the morlu—all the morlu—finally died…again.
They fell by the dozens, by the scores, and Mendeln was certain, by the hundreds. As he turned around, he saw only their corpses littering the already blood-soaked jungle. Thankfully, he knew that these beasts would not rise again, for he had taken that into account when he had derived his own spell.
They are all finished, Trag’Oul declared. They are no more…
The dragon and Rathma withdrew from him. Mendeln teetered, then dropped to both knees. His arm fell to his side and as it did the incredible illumination cast by his dagger vanished.
Another voice entered his thoughts, yet one that he welcomed, for it did not speak to him alone, but all the defenders.
Have at them! Serenthia commanded. They’re confused! Lost! Now’s the time to strike—for Uldyssian!
A spontaneous cheer arose from among his brother’s followers and even Mendeln added his own ragged cry to it. The edyrem swept out toward their adversaries, beating back the Peace Warders and countering the spells of the priests. In addition to the clash of arms, there were balls of energy, feats of enhanced strength, and more. The once invincible ranks of the Triune splintered. Peace Warders fought, but not with much hope.
Mendeln wanted to do nothing more than sleep, but he fought to his feet. Sleep could only come when—assuming no new horror reared its ugly head—Lilith’s minions were utterly broken. Only then…
He sensed a priest casting. Mendeln shoved the dagger forward and muttered. In his mind, he saw the priest’s spell turn on the man. A dark shadow enveloped the caster, a shadow that literally ate away at him until nothing remained. The priest did not even have time to scream.
There were still many to fight, but the odds were now with the edyrem. Their confidence continued to swell—that, and the fact that they knew in their hearts that this was the decisive moment.
And so they fought. Mendeln, aware that he could do no more for his brother, fought with them. At that moment, he both respected and hated the Balance, for he knew very well that the edyrem needed to win, even if it meant losing Uldyssian. Sanctuary could survive without his brother. Mendeln could only hope that by sending the bone fragment to wherever his sibling was that it would help Uldyssian survive.
Of course, considering just what the piece contained, considering the potential for evil within it, it was also possible that Mendeln had done just the opposite…
Twenty-Two
Uldyssian stood in a maze.
He knew that this was some part of the supreme temple, but other than that he was entirely without a clue. Each time he used his powers to try to escape, nothing happened. He did not appear somewhere else, and this time, he could not summon Lilith to him. Why that was, the son of Diomedes did not know, but it boded ill for his efforts against her.
With nothing else left to him, Uldyssian continued down the stark, stone corridor. Torch
es in the walls lit the way, not that there was anything to see. Still, with memories of his encounters in the temple in Toraja still fresh, he kept a wary eye on the ceiling, the floor, and the walls. Uldyssian knew that such distraction only worked in the demoness’s favor, but could do nothing about it.
The corridor ended at another one that gave him the choice of turning left or right. Having already chosen the right at the last intersection upon which he had come, Uldyssian picked the left this time. In truth, a part of him was suspicious that he would end up in the same place regardless of which direction taken. There was something entirely unnatural about this maze, not at all surprising since it was demonic in origin. While it reminded him of Lilith, it was very likely that it had been designed by her brother, Lucion.
After only a few steps down the new hall, Uldyssian suddenly turned and swung his fist into the nearest wall. Both shielded and powered by his gifts, his fist slammed a tremendous hole in the stone. Cracks spread from the broken gap along much of the nearby area. Uldyssian pulled back his hand to inspect the damage he had created—
And the wall mended itself. The stones shoved back in place and the cracks sealed over. In less time than it had taken him to do the deed, all trace had disappeared.
He swore. Uldyssian had thought that perhaps by taking an impulsive action he would catch Lilith by surprise. Her trap, though, was proving very, very intricate.
Uldyssian had immediately materialized in this place, his former lover nowhere to be seen or sensed. He still berated himself for having reacted too slowly to her sudden materialization. After all, he had been the one who had so much wanted her there…
Try as he might, Uldyssian could not repeat that act. Again, he did not understand why. Lilith had to have done something to him—
There was a clatter just ahead.
It sounded as if someone had dropped a small object. The clatter echoed for a brief time, then silence reigned once more. Uldyssian could see nothing, though. Was this a new torture of Lilith’s? Did she plan to keep him distracted with sudden, random sounds? Judging by the way his heart beat now, Uldyssian thought that perhaps the demoness had a good point.
He took a few tentative steps toward where he had heard the noise. Uldyssian did not notice anything different at first, but then he saw a small, oddly pale stone lying against one of the walls. For some reason, Mendeln came to mind. Despite not trusting why that should be so, Uldyssian bent down to take the piece.
There was a coldness to the odd stone that nearly made him drop it. Yet, again he felt that his brother had some sort of tie to this find. Straightening, Uldyssian inspected it.
The way you seek is behind you…
Uldyssian smothered a gasp. He knew that voice, knew it so very well. Never had he expected to hear it again, especially emanating from a stone.
No…he saw it for what it actually was. As a farmer raising animals, he should have recognized it instantly. It was a bone.
And the voice had belonged to dread Malic.
The way you seek is behind you…the voice repeated.
On a hunch, Uldyssian muttered, “Why are you here, priest?”
At the command of your brother…and the pleasure of vengeance…
The first part Uldyssian understood, the second confused him at first. He could not see why Mendeln would send the spirit of Malic after him if all the latter desired was retribution against Uldyssian. Then, the son of Diomedes remembered just who had been responsible for the man’s death.
“So, it’s Lilith you’re after…”
The way you seek is behind you…
Malic’s cryptic response made Uldyssian frown. He did not entirely trust this ghost, even if Mendeln had been the one to send him. Still, he had no other choice than to believe the instructions…for the moment.
Returning to the previous intersection, Uldyssian headed in the direction that he had rejected. There was no further contact by the priest’s specter and so Uldyssian assumed that he should keep walking until it said something.
Indeed, the voice arose at the next junction. To the left you must go…
“How long is this going to take?”
The distance shortens, Uldyssian ul-Diomed, even if the danger also heightens…
“Which means?”
This was the plaything of my lord Lucion…a wrong step, a wrong turn…and you will have your hands full…The voice went silent after that and Uldyssian decided not to bother seeking more. Other than the directions, all Malic offered were riddles. Again, Uldyssian vowed to remain wary of the ghost.
Malic did not speak again until they had reached another corridor. Uldyssian followed the new path and after a few minutes noticed that the way was growing darker. In addition, a sense of claustrophobia took hold of him.
Recalling the tricks of the Worldstone’s cavern, Uldyssian rejected the feeling. As the torches grew farther and farther apart, he summoned a light of his own.
The changes in his surroundings did not bode well. He resorted to the bone fragment for answers. “What goes on here, priest?”
Remain steady on the path, the ghost replied very succinctly. It was almost as if Malic stood next to him. Touch not the walls, whatever the need…
While he was certainly willing to obey, Uldyssian wanted a reason. “Why? What’ll happen if I—”
The stone floor tilted, sending him sliding to the left.
Beware! The wall!
Still clutching the fragment, Uldyssian grasped with his free hand a depression between two stones in the floor. His momentum ceased. He held on tight. Oddly, the path behind him looked absolutely normal. With the utmost caution Uldyssian pulled himself toward it.
The floor shifted, sending him rolling on into the darkened areas. This was not some clever use of mechanisms; the only manner by which the floor could move in so many directions was magic.
He concentrated, willing the floor to become even again. The angle at which he tumbled lessened, then disappeared altogether.
Uldyssian paused to catch his breath.
The floor shifted to his right.
The wall, fool! Beware the—
It was too late. Uldyssian, already near one side of the corridor, had no chance to react before his shoulder slammed into the wall. The stone there gave way. He dropped into emptiness…
And a moment later, landed on a harsh, slick surface.
Rise up! Rise up, you dolt! Malic all but shouted in his head. They come! They come!
Savage grunting filled Uldyssian’s ears. On instinct, he rolled away from their source.
A heavy battle-ax chopped into the ground near his head.
Ending on his back, Uldyssian stared up into the black pits that were the eyes of a morlu.
Uldyssian thrust his hand toward the monstrous figure. With a roar of anger, the morlu went flying back, finally crashing into a jagged wall far away. The body fell several dozen yards before hitting the bottom.
But as Uldyssian rose from dealing with this threat, he saw that Malic had been correct when the ghost had used the word “they.”
He was in a vast underground chamber filled with morlu.
Uldyssian had been certain that Lilith had thrown all her resources into attacking the edyrem. He would have never believed that she had kept so many of these hideous creatures at hand should Uldyssian escape her trap. Then again, perhaps she had merely held on to this band for other ventures, such as against Inarius, conspicuously absent in all this struggle.
Whatever the reason, the morlu howled at the sight of Uldyssian and charged him. Like ants, they flowed toward the intruder from every direction. Some waved weapons, others merely sought to tear him apart with their hands.
He thrust the fragment into his shirt and then met the first of his attackers. Uldyssian grappled with the morlu just long enough to gain a hold, then twisted the warrior around in time for the ax of another to bury itself deep in the first’s chest regardless of the armor.
Tossing aside
the body, Uldyssian sent a ball of fire at the second attacker. Perhaps because of the morlu’s undead nature, the creature immediately became an inferno. Uldyssian kicked him into another, then turned to his left, where his most imminent foe now stood.
That morlu received what the initial one had. Driven by the human’s powers, the armored beast flew up, then dropped over a lava flow Uldyssian had spotted. The morlu sank out of sight, the lava sizzling loud.
But even with such success, the horde was pressing him harder. With a cry of defiance, Uldyssian swept his arm across the chamber. The ground around him exploded and morlu by the scores were ripped apart or tossed far away. Uldyssian did the same with his other arm, with just as dramatic results. He continued this twice more, clearing for a great distance the ground around him.
Morlu bodies and parts lay scattered everywhere. Driven by his frustration and fury and not having to fear harming friends, Uldyssian had been able to take down nearly as many of the creatures as had been part of the entire attack on his followers. He did not fear the survivors; all Uldyssian wanted was a moment to catch his breath and then he would rid this place of the last of the vermin.
But then he saw an arm lying over one body slide off that and roll to its former wielder. Once there, it reattached itself. Uldyssian looked to the other side and beheld the ruined throat of another heal itself.
As that happened, something emerged from the lava. Armor blazing red and flesh seared, the morlu he had tossed into the flow also stalked toward him.
Everywhere, the demonic warriors healed and rose. It was an even more horrible tableau than that from the battle, yet Uldyssian knew that it had to be related.
It is the Kiss of Mephisto that raises them, but the demoness has amplified its powers, came Malic’s voice. Seek the black gemstone in the center! Seek it!
Morlu blocked his view in that direction. Inhaling, Uldyssian clapped his hands together. The crashing sound bowled over his foes…
There, at last revealed, was what Malic claimed the source of the warriors’ regeneration. A gleaming black gemstone nearly as tall as him and embedded in a triangular column of red-streaked marble.
Scales of the Serpent Page 30
