At least she thinks I’ll still be alive one day, thought Aldric. That was slightly reassuring.
“You can call me Etia,” she continued. “Though even my nothfoljer over there doesn’t call me that. She calls me Wrinkly. Can you believe it?” A shake of her head. “I think I’m holding up quite nicely. Respect, that’s what young people are missing. That, and brains.”
“I’m … I’m Aldric. You’re a … goddess?”
Etia cackled again, this time sounding genuinely amused. “Oh, dear me, no. I’m like you. One of the chosen. I can use the power of my god, though he’s almost forgotten out there. I get by. I send my helpers out and do what I can. The birds do well enough.”
The finches, realized Aldric. “Who is your god?”
She waved a hand with knobbed knuckles and parchment-thin skin. “Does it matter? What’s in a name anyway?”
“Some names have power, hold knowledge.”
“Bah! Foolishness. A name is only an identifier. But I didn’t open my door to you to argue about trivialities. Someone’s come knocking. They’ve been attempting to breach my wards and break inside for weeks. My power has weakened and doesn’t reach far these days. You’re the first competent person to visit lately, so you’re what I have to work with.”
Cursing silently, Aldric shook his head. “You’ll not use me like some game piece,” he said firmly. “I’m no servant.”
“Of course you are! The same as I am. You think your god’s power comes without chains?”
He knew it did, but some burdens were born willingly. “You’ve survived for this long. No one knows you’re here. And you have your god’s power. It’s been enough to keep you safe so far.”
Etia’s eyes flashed. “Someone does know. And I’m not worried about the temple. I’m worried about my soul. There are those who want to, shall we say, bottle my essence. They’ve tried before. They need both types of sorcery and the puske. At least they think they do. They’re very determined and not very nice. I’d rather stay alive and myself, thank you very much.”
“The puske? What’s—”
A bony finger jabbed into Aldric’s chest. Hard. “Don’t they teach you anything? It’s what the gods’ power is made of. The gods can gift it, as they have with you, but they cannot rescind it. So if you can control someone who has been gifted, then you can control their power.”
Aldric had never heard the term before. Then again, he’d never been taught Menselas’s power was made of anything; it just was.
“Who is it that needs sorcery and the puske?” he asked.
Etia rolled her eyes. “You really are ignorant, aren’t you? No, don’t answer that. I can see for myself. You’re like a baby left out in the wilderness.”
Bridling at her tone, Aldric felt his face flush with heat. “Educate me, then. You brought me here for a reason.”
“The Tainted Cabal,” said Etia, giving him a penetrating look. “I take it you have at least heard of them?”
The heat left Aldric’s face as a chill swept through him. The pieces fell into place: the legend of the Tainted Cabal’s defeat outside the pyramid. Etia was under siege from the Cabal. They wanted her power—her puske—for themselves. A step along their plan to return Nysrog to the world. They’d tried, and failed, before. But this time, Etia was worried. Holy Menselas.
“I can get help,” Aldric said quickly, thinking of his Church, the few warriors he could gather. But what good would Menselas’s sacred healing power be? It wasn’t a weapon. “I know a little sorcery, though I’m far from powerful. As for Menselas’s gift, I can heal, but that won’t be of any use unless there’s bloodshed.”
The old woman tilted her head, much like the girl had earlier, and frowned. “You don’t know, do you? Ha! How foolish your priests have become over the centuries. Did they deliberately withhold the information from you, I wonder? Or have they forgotten themselves?”
His mind raced, trying to decipher her words. “What are you talking about?”
She scratched an armpit. “Never mind. There’s no time anyway. My suitor approaches.” She looked toward the entrance. “They’ve found a way in. And if you’re all I have to work with, may the gods help us.”
A faint light illuminated the tunnel, and Aldric realized she hadn’t closed the door behind him. She’d invited them inside, whoever they were. The light dimmed as someone blocked the opening. Hard leather scuffed on obsidian paving stones. Footsteps echoed, drawing closer. Shadows moved.
“With any luck,” Etia said, “we’ll both get out of this alive.”
Aldric glanced at her, but her attention was focused on the approaching threat. He gripped his khopesh hilt tighter, knowing he was out of his depth, forced into an alliance with an unknown priestess against a nameless enemy, with only his limited sword skills and sorcery to defend himself.
The footsteps stopped. Silence reigned for long moments, the only sound Aldric’s heavy breathing in his ears. Unexpectedly, there was a surge of sorcery. Fueled by the dusk-tide. It subsided as quickly as it had appeared, but there was a strangeness to it, as if it was somehow stale.
Aldric’s free hand reached for the talisman inside his belt pouch, and he tried to clear his mind and concentrate on the forms and calculations of sorcery. His dormant wards would erupt when needed, but once they did, he had to maintain them. If he was required to use his khopesh at the same time, it wouldn’t go well for him. He couldn’t concentrate on sorcery and wield a blade with any skill.
A short, slender woman emerged from the gloom. She withdrew a hand from a pocket, as if she’d hastily stashed something inside. Her clothes were … odd. A man’s trousers and a shirt of expensive material, too big for her frame. A plain sword hung from her belt, and Aldric wondered if she could even wield such a large weapon. She flashed Aldric a smile, hitched the pants up, tightened her belt, then brushed a strand of long black hair from her tanned face. Her eyes were a startling blue, slightly slanted, and somehow daring and intelligent. She could have been Soki’s sister, a darker version.
“’Ware the idmoni, Aldric. It knows your desires,” Etia said. She stepped forward, and Aldric saw she clutched a handful of rose petals in one hand. “Be gone from this hallowed place!” she shouted. “Your kind is not welcome here.”
A tinkling laugh came from the intruder. “The door was open … I took it as a sign you’d reconsidered. But where are my manners?” She looked straight at Aldric. “What an unexpected pleasure. My name is … Darya, and I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“I’m Aldric,” he said before he could stop himself. There was a sensual energy to her, a look that promised pleasure and excitement. She was a smoldering version of Soki, unnerving in her beauty.
“Bloody men,” he heard Etia say.
“You look like a reasonable man,” Darya said. “Perhaps we can come to an agreement. I promise you a substantial reward should you stand aside, and let the crone and me settle our differences amicably.”
Etia scoffed. “That’s not going to happen. I’d rather die.”
“If need be.”
Aldric heard fluttering wings that grew to a crescendo as loud as an angry swarm of hornets. A red stream poured out of the opening behind the woman: a flock of finches, chirping and swooping around the chamber. Almost as one, they landed to form a circle around Aldric and Etia, and alighted on the sleeping girl until she was a feathery mound. Hundreds of tiny heads turned to regard Darya, whose only reaction to the display was to raise her eyebrows.
Etia brought the rose petals to her cheek. Blood dripped from her hand and trailed down her arm.
“You look like someone I know,” Aldric said to Darya.
His mind felt sluggish, his thoughts slow to form. This woman was Tainted Cabal, and all he could think about was her beauty. It struck a chord within him, vibrating through his senses and his soul.
“Do I?” she said.
“Yes. A woman named Soki. Are you related?”
An
other tinkling laugh. “No. But I can be Soki if you desire. I sense a difference in you, Aldric. A divine gift.” She placed a finger on one dimpled cheek and pursed her lips. “We should get to know each other better. If you’d like?” Her tone suggested she’d be extremely disappointed if he declined.
“You’re wasting your time,” Etia spat before Aldric could respond. “His god is strong and won’t take kindly to your meddling.”
“Unlike yours,” Darya retorted.
The motionless finches unsettled Aldric. They just sat there staring at Darya, covering the floor like a red carpet. Or a pool of blood, with Etia and Aldric at its center.
He grasped for his sorcerous power, and instantly his mind cleared, like a strong wind blowing away dense fog. He knew his khopesh would probably be useless and prepared a cant on his lips.
Dark, dusk-tide sorcery erupted from Darya. A small circle of finches dropped to their sides. Dead. Etia hissed in anger, and Darya raised a mocking eyebrow again. Another surge of dusk-tide sorcery, and another circle of birds fell senseless to the floor.
Darya laughed. “I’ve come for you, Etia, servant of a dying god.”
“I do not fear death, demon.”
Demon? wondered Aldric. She was human. Wasn’t she? A fist of terror squeezed Aldric’s heart. Light countered light; darkness countered darkness—this he knew. It had been drummed into him during his sorcerous training. Along with the fact that dark sorcery was malevolent and should not be used.
Darya smiled knowingly. “Your desires are as plain as the sun to us. You grow old. Weak. You fear withering away to nothing like the others of your kind. The world has forgotten you. You no longer matter.”
“I matter!” screamed Etia. “I am still able to influence the world!” She fell silent, as if fearing she’d revealed too much.
“Those little birds tweeting in people’s ears? Come now. Even here, in what was once the seat of your power, you are insignificant. Look at your servants. You cannot even save them.”
Without warning, the warmth and serenity of his god’s power flowed through Aldric. He felt a directive to go to the birds. He stepped toward them, and they opened a path for him, hopping to the side. He kneeled beside the tiny dead bodies, a puddle of red feathers. Menselas’s gift surged out of him stronger than he’d ever felt before, encasing the birds, curving over their inert forms. Their tiny bodies, once lifeless, stirred. One by one, they chirped and hopped to their feet.
Before Aldric could do more than wonder at the birds’ divine resurrection, his skin prickled, and an immense pressure descended upon him, pushing from all sides until he felt encased in honey. Etia and Darya must have been affected too, as they both moved sluggishly. The sensation brought the warmth of a summer’s day to Aldric’s skin. But Darya’s mouth opened slowly in a scream of pain, her words inaudible through the syrupy presence.
Menselas, Aldric realized with wonder. It has to be.
The force disappeared as quickly as it came.
Etia stamped her foot in triumph. “Menselas has made his wishes known. The Tainted Cabal has been rebuffed. Begone, idmoni.”
That word again. Aldric didn’t know what it meant.
Darya sighed with annoyance. “Such a tawdry name to hang upon us. Pettiness has ever been a flaw of those without the vision or ability to rise above their station.”
She turned her piercing eyes on Aldric. “My offer still stands. Come to me. I sense you are troubled, perhaps … unhappy. Or … unappreciated. Yes, unappreciated. I can show you beautiful things. With us, you will become what you’ve always desired.”
Without waiting for an answer, she spun on her heel and strode back down the tunnel. The finches followed her, but formed a mass in front of the doorway, not venturing out of the chamber. The little girl remained asleep on the floor, unaware of what had just occurred.
“You can relax now,” Etia said. “And thank you. Though you almost lost yourself there. I guess the old saying is true: Use fire to test gold, gold to test woman, and woman to test man.”
“What just happened?”
Aldric felt the need to have Etia confirm that one of the Tainted Cabal, an exquisite woman, had wanted to kill Etia and steal her power. Her puske, but had been stopped by Etia’s god, whoever that was, and Menselas. That about summed it up.
“At first blush, you’d think some gods put aside their differences to stop something evil from enacting their wicked plan. That’s partially correct, but it goes deeper than that.”
“My god protected you, which proves you’re trustworthy,” he said.
“It doesn’t! And he’ll ask for something in return.”
The very idea offended Aldric. “Menselas doesn’t trade favors.”
Etia barked a laugh. “Of course he does. They all do. You’re young still; you’ll learn eventually. Anyway, I’ve been doing what I can to thwart the Tainted Cabal’s plans, so they sent Darya to silence me. My puske would be a bonus to the idmoni. The demons. They’ve been after it for many years.”
Centuries, if Aldric’s guess was correct. Perhaps her ancientness was a gift from her god?
Etia stumbled over to her stool and fuel-less fire and sat down. One of the finches alighted on her shoulder and chirped. She passed a weary hand over her face. “I have to sleep. I’m not as young as I once was.”
“But—”
“Go,” she commanded. “Darya, if that was truly her name, won’t bother me for some time, if ever again. With two gods opposing her, she’ll pursue easier targets. In the meantime, perhaps you should seek to learn more about the Tainted Cabal.”
“Yes,” Aldric said slowly. After all, he would be here in Caronath for some time. “I’ll see what I can dig up. This Darya cannot be allowed to roam free. Wherever she is in Caronath, I’ll find her.”
To his amazement, Etia laughed. “No, you won’t. She’ll be hidden too well, if indeed it’s a she. And besides, you’re leaving the city soon.”
“What? How do you know? Will Menselas give me a mission?”
The priestess gave another dried-out laugh. “His Church will. And you’d best be wary. There are old evils, and new ones, stirring. Beware the wolf in sheep’s clothing.”
Aldric frowned. “Aren’t we allies now? Shouldn’t we work together?”
“I’m indebted to your god. You could say my god is as well. That doesn’t make us allies. But I’ll give you some advice: Heavy currents are moving in and around Caronath. Whatever your mission, it’s not going to be as simple as you think. You hold a darkness within you, Aldric.”
He knew she was referring to his repository of dark-tide sorcery. “I also hold a light, and I have been touched by Menselas’s gift.”
“The difference between good and evil is how they use power. Now, get out of here and leave these old bones to rest.”
Chapter Ten
Hungers
NIKLAUS FOLLOWED THE MADAM across the opulent room and into a private area to one side. His nose wrinkled at the stench in the air. Burning incense tried to cover stale sweat and mustiness, and failed. Large mirrors adorned the walls, and men of all types and ages sat on red velvet lounge chairs, each with two women draped over them. The women all wore sheer dresses that left little to the imagination, and their faces were made up, lips and cheeks red. It was an expensive establishment, and the patrons were men of means: successful merchants, bankers, and business owners. They drank and laughed and joked, while the women pretended to be amused by their jests.
The madam was provocatively garbed in a dress so tight her voluptuous figure threatened to spill out, and her long golden hair was artfully curled. Niklaus watched her ample buttocks as she walked in front of him, which was probably the point. He strode across the polished marble floor, brushed through heavy curtains into the private area, and waited patiently as the woman recited her patter, which she probably used on every customer. Lewd paintings covered the walls, which themselves were a dark red, probably designed to incite passi
on. Except to Niklaus, they looked drenched with blood.
He unbuckled the goddess’s sword from his back and sat on a lounge. It was red, of course, and velvet. He laid the sheathed blade across his lap next to his cane, his fingers trailing the leather covering. In his mind, he could see, and imagined he felt, the design she’d scored into the blade. The goddess, his goddess, naked and kneeling, wings extending behind her.
A single lamp burned atop a holder, hardly enough to see by. Shadows lurked in every corner, making him uneasy. To his right was a round table, its veneered top crowded with bottles. He reached over and poured himself a glass of a golden liquor. He gulped it down, not tasting it, and not caring. Potent fumes invaded his nose, and he coughed and wiped the back of his hand across his nostrils.
The madam was staring at him. Niklaus realized he hadn’t heard a word she’d said. He wiped his nose again and sniffed. “Get on with it.”
“So, long, dark hair, with tanned skin?” she asked.
“That’s what I said. I’ll pay extra for violet eyes. A fair bit extra.”
“Violet eyes? I don’t think I’ve ever seen a girl with that color before.”
Niklaus rubbed his face with both hands. “I have. She wasn’t a girl though. Never mind.”
The madam gave him a practiced smile and backed away through the curtain. Niklaus sighed and poured himself another drink. This one he nursed carefully, only sipping occasionally.
A few minutes later, the madam returned with three girls. She lined them up, and he saw that each one was dressed much as the other girls he’d seen, with too much skin showing and too little emotion on their faces. But what did he expect, coming to a place like this? Goddess, why was he even here? The goddess, of course. She was a part of him. Everywhere he went, everything he did, it was for her. To become closer to her. He obsessed over her, his every thought tinged with her presence. He couldn’t get her out of his mind and in truth didn’t want her gone. This was a poor substitute, but the next best thing.
He gulped down another mouthful of liquor while examining the girls. The madam had done her best, he supposed, but had he really expected to find the goddess here? He almost laughed at the thought. Perhaps one day she would surprise him, then probably kill him. After all these years, it would be a relief. After centuries of wandering, at least he’d get to see her.
Revenant Winds (The Tainted Cabal Book 1) Page 14
