“Dragana’s theory still seems sound to me,” Aeo said. Dragana cast the man such a beatific look of love and appreciation Raeb felt like he was intruding on something intimate. He wasn’t sure whether the sight of them, together and admitting their love, warmed his heart or churned his gut.
“Right it is, then,” Raeb said, turning away from the couple and following his instincts.
Hopefully, those instincts wouldn’t get them killed any sooner than need be.
The path Raeb chose was steep. It would have been bad enough in the real world, but with the way the walls and floor kept shimmering in and out of existence, they may as well have been climbing upstream through a river. Aeo was forced to let go of Dragana’s hand just so they could keep their balance.
He hadn’t thought it was possible, but the hive grew more sinister the farther in they went. The colors on the walls faded to black and dirty gray, when the walls were visible at all. They spent more and more time phasing out than existing. Moisture beaded on every surface and dripped from the ceiling. A smell like decaying meat and sulfur infused the air. The tunnels grew smaller, narrower, and more constricted. Aeo could have reached out and touched both walls from where he stood, but he didn’t dare. The walls were too filmy, and oily, and gods only knew what that stuff would do to him if he got it on his skin.
The howls of the hunters had returned, as well. Now there were so many, coming from so many directions, the sound never truly died. It pulsed like the heartbeat of the hive itself.
The Bok’Tarong reappeared in Aeo’s hand. The blades made it more difficult to navigate the steep, congested tunnel, but he felt safer with its weight settled and ready for use.
Raeb paused and turned back toward him. “If we get surrounded, could you do that ‘poof’ thing again?”
Not a chance. Aeo shook his head. “It took too much out of me the first time. My head is still pounding. If I tried to summon that much power again, I doubt I’d make it through.”
Dragana grabbed his free hand in a grip that threatened to crush bones. “Could I do it instead?” she asked. “I have my own Bok’Tarong, after all.”
“I don’t think so. Yours doesn’t seem to have the same power mine does.”
They both seemed to have expected that answer, because they both nodded in silence. But Dragana’s grip didn’t loosen on his hand as they continued their trek.
Finally the tunnel started to open up, into a room far larger than any they’d passed through yet. The floor sloped downward into a large, shallow bowl, though it seemed less solid than it had in the corridor. The ceiling, though high, was strung with long, inert Entana tendrils like moss on a weeping willow. The air was warm and still.
When they stepped into the room, the howls of the hunters failed to follow them.
Aeo’s foot splashed down into something liquid, though it didn’t feel like any kind of water or muck he’d ever trod through before. It was more like what slogging through honey would feel like. It was warm, too, almost body temperature. The surface reflected the low light in brief sparkles, like sunshine off a wave.
Aeo looked down. Just to the side of his foot, a human face stared up at him.
He yelped and tried to jump back. The sludge pulled at his feet, making it hard to keep his balance. He splashed back in past his ankles, right atop a man’s face that had popped up behind him.
Relief and revulsion swam through him as the image—only an image, thank the gods— trembled and broke apart. “What is this place?”
Raeb was crouched over the liquid, peering at it and running it through his fingers. It clung to his skin, dripping off in slow, heavy globs. “It’s like some kind of … memory soup.” He stood, looking up at the thousands of tiny hanging tendrils. “And those look like baby Entana.”
“So this is a nursery?” Dragana asked.
Raeb nodded. “This must be where they regenerate tendrils.”
“Then what’s with the memory soup?”
“Babies need to eat, Aeo. The hive probably distills a bunch of the emotions they steal from the -taken and dumps it in here. The tendrils can reach down and feed whenever they want.” He pointed off to the left, where one of the thicker tendrils had just done exactly that. Dragana grimaced at the slurping sounds it made.
Aeo nodded, but something else about the memory soup had drawn his attention. All around Raeb, the surface was churning with colors and half-formed images. More and more specks of color raced toward him, until he was standing in the epicenter of a giant starburst.
When Raeb looked down, he went deathly pale. His eyes widened as he stared at the images forming in the sludge. Aeo saw landscapes and unfamiliar buildings, faces he didn’t recognize, and snatches of scenes like … like he was watching someone’s memories.
Raeb hadn’t moved an inch. He was drinking in the images like they were life itself. Was he seeing things the Entana had taken from him? Did they spark any kind of recognition in him?
Aeo couldn’t imagine what the man must be feeling. It must have been like reliving his life, maybe even rediscovering who he was.
“What’s happening?” Dragana asked, never tearing her eyes from the images.
“The tendrils must be siphoning his memories,” Aeo said. “Or gathering ones they’d already taken from the soup.”
Dragana started to response, but her words died in her throat. Her eyes widened and she stepped forward as an image of vivid green trees and steep, jagged mountains came into view. Nestled in the crags was a vast temple complex, connected by rope bridges and sweeping staircases. Waterfalls danced down the mountains around it, some of them disappearing into a building only to reappear at its base. Aeo couldn’t understand how it was even supported—it looked as if the mountain had grown around the temple rather than the other way around. Blazing above the peak of each building was a sword Aeo knew all too well.
No wonder Dragana held such love for the place. There was a sense of great age radiating from the place, as if it had been built with peace and wisdom as well as wood and stone. Seeing Raeb’s features twist with longing and regret, Aeo felt certain the man had loved it just as much as she had.
The image swung around, as if from the eyes of a child who was determined not to miss a detail. Aeo could even feel some of what the boy Raeb had felt: awe and wonder, excitement, a hint of fear.
Just as Dragana opened her mouth to say something, images began forming at her feet, too. Her words were cut short by a choked squawk.
Movement above them caught Aeo’s eye. The baby Entana tendrils swayed as if stirred by a gentle breeze. He wanted to keep watch on them, but his gaze was drawn back to the memory soup and the thoughts it showed.
Dragana’s memory was also of her first glimpse of the Taronese temple. It didn’t look very different, even though Raeb’s vision of it had been centuries earlier. Even Aeo was enchanted by the mystique and agelessness of this place.
Dragana’s thoughts sped through highlights of her training and settled on the moment she was chosen to bear the Bok’Tarong. A large dojo was filled with people. Dragana and an older man fought in an open circle in the middle, moving so swiftly Aeo had trouble following their movements. She dodged, feinted, struck, and the man was defeated. The dojo erupted in cheers. Dragana was covered in sweat, her muscles quivering with exhaustion, but her pride overwhelmed everything. Tears dripped from her eyes. Aeo found himself beaming for her.
The picture darkened until just a single image remained: Raeb, his back turned to the temple, leaving behind this life they’d both loved so much. How could he have left? The question permeated the image until it demanded an answer.
The tendrils above them rustled.
Before Raeb could even begin to speak, his thoughts answered for him. Chaotic images, filled with confusion and terror and pain and horror, flashed in the soup. A great battle, a horrible, soul-rending battle, was fought and lost. And then Raeb’s tear- and sweat-streaked face appeared. He looked like he’d spen
t a month of nights sleepless and hunted. Aeo saw him crouched in the darkness, hiding from the world, terrified of what had just happened, agonized by what had to happen next.
The images blurred, and the next thing Aeo saw was Raeb running away from the temple, sobbing. He ran until he collapsed, but even so he picked himself up and kept going. Not stopping for days, out of fear and shame of what he had become.
The emotions flowing from their memories were overwhelming. Aeo could barely pull his eyes from the images to check at his own feet. A few sparks circled him, but no images had formed. Perhaps the Bok’Tarong was protecting his thoughts? But Dragana had her own version of the Bok’Tarong which was almost, but not quite, as powerful as his. Perhaps the sheer intensity of Dragana’s emotions, or their close connection to Raeb’s, allowed the tendrils to reach her memories?
Aeo looked up. There was much more movement among the baby tendrils than there had been. A few were even extending themselves down toward Raeb and Dragana. His friends’ high emotions and stirring of memories must have smelled like a feast to them.
He sent a tiny bit of power into the Bok’Tarong, bringing it to a gentle glow. The tendrils shrunk back, but Dragana and Raeb didn’t seem to notice. Their eyes were still glued to the images playing in the memory soup.
The latest was another of Dragana’s, and the one Aeo had known would show up eventually: a picture of Raeb, Sunray in hand, leaning over the Bok’Tarong with murder in his eyes. Again, the question was clear. How?
Raeb’s reply was gleaned from his mind. Aeo could feel the hopelessness and confusion permeating Raeb’s mind during those moments. He knew there was only one way out of this hell he called life, and that was to destroy the Bok’Tarong. Otherwise he was doomed to live this curse for centuries more, or go mad and lose everything. He had no choice.
But then a glimmer flickered in the dark image. It was the same rosy gold light that blazed from the Bok’Tarong. Along with the light came a name—his name. Aeo.
In that moment Aeo knew, just as Raeb had, that he could never destroy this sword, or the spirit inside it.
Aeo, Dragana, and Raeb stood in absolute silence as the images faded. No further questions rose from anyone’s mind. Aeo could hardly get anything to rise in his mind. The strength of Raeb and Dragana’s emotions overwhelmed him. To feel someone else’s emotions as keenly as you felt your own … he’d thought he was used to it with Dragana, but understanding Raeb this intimately, a -taken, added a whole new dimension to it.
He was so absorbed in what had just happened he was almost too late. The scraping, slithering sound of tendrils extending caught his attention. He looked up just as several tendrils pressed into the glow of the Bok’Tarong and crept toward his friends.
A large tendril reared up behind Dragana, poised to strike at her head. If that thing even touched her … “Dragana!”
Raeb beat him to it. He whipped Sunray over Dragana’s head. She screamed, more from confusion than fear, and ducked.
The tendril that had been about to strike splashed into the memory soup, severed in half.
She looked back at Raeb, amazement and gratitude painted across her face. She stared at him for a moment before she smiled. It was a small, cautious smile, but Raeb visibly relaxed at it. He smiled back, saying nothing. No words needed to be said.
A weight lifted from Aeo’s heart. Dragana had forgiven Raeb at last.
Aeo reached over and took Dragana’s hand. She looked more at peace than she had in weeks, but the emotional drain from watching hers and Raeb’s memories had taken its toll. Dark circles ringed her eyes and her cheeks were pale. Aeo tried to find something comforting to say, but couldn’t think of anything. He squeezed her hand and urged her to start moving.
He looked back at Raeb, but the man was already following. He looked troubled, but seemed happy despite it all. Perhaps something about sharing those memories and being understood soothed some deep pain in him.
As soon as they were free of the memory soup, Aeo relinquished the lead to Raeb. They still hadn’t spoken a word, and Aeo had a hunch the next leg of the journey would be a long, silent one.
33
Raeb tried to tell himself the memories he’d seen in the soup weren’t important. He told himself the influence those distilled emotions had on him didn’t mean anything. He assured himself none of it mattered.
He couldn’t convince himself of any of it.
That’s because you know it’s more than nothing, a voice said in his mind.
Raeb jumped. He’d thought that with the death of the Keeper of Secrets, this kind of conversation would cease.
Not here, you fool. This is our home. We can do whatever we want with you in our seat of power.
Then why have you been ignoring me? Why haven’t you gone ahead and drained my mind of thoughts already? It’s not like you haven’t had the chance.
Straight to the point, as always. We keep you alive because you still have value. You can do what we cannot.
I know what I can do, and what you can’t. I won’t do it. I refused for two hundred years. I won’t give in now.
Are you certain of that? the Entana mocked. Do not be so quick to declare your loyalty. We may yet have something to offer you.
Raeb clenched his fists and growled.
You don’t argue because you know the truth. You don’t shut us out because you wish to hear our proposition.
You have a proposition for me? Raeb chuckled. Is that why you showed me those memories, to remind me of how much you’ve ruined my life? To make me feel all warm and fuzzy toward you? That’s not a great plan to make me agreeable.
The emotions you drudged up were not shaped by us. They were drawn out because they are the emotions you feel most keenly. They are what identify you.
Raeb tried to shake that lie off, but he couldn’t. Probably because he knew it wasn’t actually a lie.
You need not feel that helpless ever again, the Entana said.
I know. That’s why I’m here. You die, I’m free.
The Entana laughed. Hardly. But if you were to agree to our presence in your mind, and promise to serve us, we would make sure you were well compensated. Power would be the least of the rewards.
You want me to become one of your willing -taken pawns? Never.
Not a pawn. Something much more than that.
Raeb paused as the full implications of their statement sunk in. Are you suggesting I become the new Keeper of Secrets?
You know you cannot escape this place with your life. Even if you somehow succeeded, which we all know is impossible, we would release the Entana in your mind before the end. It is hungry, after all. It would consume your mind with a frenzy you have never before imagined.
Raeb shuddered.
Your life was forfeit as soon as your spirit entered our realm. Your only hope to live is to join us. You may have deceived us, but you have shown remarkable initiative. We can use that. Become our ambassador, and your eternity could be spent in peace instead of hiding.
Raeb was silent for a long time. He didn’t know what to think.
Finally, he asked the question he’d never have considered before. What would you ask me to do?
He could feel the Entana’s surge of victory. Complete the mission you were given so long ago. Destroy the Bok’Tarong. Kill the spirit of the blades and let us feast on his memories. The Entana paused. But first, bring him to us. His death will be all the sweeter if he believes he is about to succeed. Follow the path we will show you, then strike just before his moment of victory is at hand.
And you’ll promise to spare me?
We will reward you beyond your wildest imaginings.
Raeb didn’t reply. He didn’t think of anything for a long, long time.
They were getting close, if the awful tension in the air was any indication. Raeb had gone silent and seemed to be brooding. Dragana’s hand clenched Aeo’s. He could feel how nervous she was. Nervous, and excited, and terrified. So many e
motions, all tangled up and overwhelming her until she was shaking.
Aeo wasn’t too calm himself. The part of him that was the Bok’Tarong felt how close his enemy was. He could sense the culmination of generations, centuries, even millennia approaching. The entire history of the Taronese people, and the Bok’Tarong, had led to this moment. His actions would dictate whether all the lives sacrificed to bring life to the double-bladed sword would be wasted.
He could not allow himself to fail that legacy.
Their surroundings were changing, shifting away from the labyrinthine caverns and toward a more solid, straightforward path. Aeo remembered this. The sanctuary the Entana had made in Saydee’s mind had done this, as well.
In a dozen heartbeats they had left the moist, undulating walls behind. Now their footsteps echoed on polished obsidian. Every surface was pure black, so deep Aeo felt it could swallow him if he ventured too close. The corridor was arrow-straight and seemed to go on forever. A presence, like the looming of a giant consciousness, surrounded them.
They’d arrived.
Raeb stopped so suddenly Aeo ran into him from behind. The two men stumbled, but kept to their feet.
Dragana opened her mouth to speak, but Raeb shushed her with a flash of his eyes. He looked around, beckoning them to do the same, then shook his head. They weren’t alone.
He pulled Aeo and Dragana closer, until their faces were mere inches apart. From this distance, Raeb’s Entana eyes were haunted and half-crazed. He held Sunray in a white-knuckled grip.
“We don’t have much time,” the man whispered. It was barely audible, little more than a breath shaping the words. “The Entana know we’re here. I can only block them out for so long before they’ll know what’s going on.”
He sighed, and Aeo heard the lament of every burden Raeb had had to carry throughout his long life. “I’m sorry I have to do this to you, my friends. I want you to know that. I am truly sorry. But there isn’t any other way.”
A chill of foreboding turned Aeo’s stomach to ice. He wasn’t sure what Raeb was saying, but he didn’t like it. Not one bit.
Soul of the Blade Page 30
