Wrath of the Risen God: Arcane Renaissance Book Three

by Tim Paulson

  “Bow down before me salaven,” Narael said as he lowered toward the ground. He did not come all the way down, stopping motionless a full eight feet above the men before him.

  “You'd better, gentleman,” Buckley said.

  The general grimaced, but he took a knee. He was followed by the men with him.

  “Now... tell me, is the enemy ahead?”

  “They are,” the general replied. “We made contact with them this morning. There were two engagements. We took some casualties but nothing serious.”

  Narael's eyes narrowed. “When last we spoke you were to find them and wait.”

  The general frowned. “That's correct but much has occurred since that time. There was a fire in the enemy lines. We felt it was wiser to exploi-”

  Narael raised the fingertips on his right hand. The general's eyes widened. Both hands gripped his chest as if he were trying to claw his own heart out.

  “These sound like excuses,” Narael said. “Let this be a lesson to all of you. When I give orders, they are to be obeyed.”

  Then he raised his arm and clenched his fist. At that moment Aaron saw emotion on the sorcerer's features for the first time in a long time: pure glee.

  The general contorted twice as his bones snapped like twigs. The sound was horrific enough it prompted two soldiers to drop their weapons in order to cover their own ears. When the crunching ended, the general's body had become a vaguely circular mass, bleeding out into the snow, the shape no longer recognizably human.

  “Who is the next in charge?” Narael asked.

  “I am,” said a woman standing nearby, her face grave. “My name is-”

  Narael held up his hand. “I don't care. Spread these orders to your army immediately. We will withdraw into a defensive posture until the morning. The assault will begin at dawn. My abnudu will take the center of the formation.”

  She stood, staring, seemingly unable to respond.

  Aaron felt for her. This was his time. The sorcerer was about to enter the battle. The Ganex would have no chance. Magenberg would fall, thousands would die unless he could wrest control away from the thing he'd become.

  “Do you understand?” Narael asked, raising a single eyebrow.

  Now Aaron, now! He'd been suppressing everything for weeks, pushing it all down into his center, pretending not to feel, to be like his body: stone. He knew what it would do, how it would build, how it would eat at him. He'd felt it. It had grown, expanded. The hatred. The sadness. The more he'd pushed it away, the greater it became, like a creature, shunned away, hated, driven into the dark. Only now he let it out.

  Come, he thought. Bring yourself forth. Your self-loathing, your inadequacy, your weakness, your fear. Bring it all, every ugly second of pain, every tear, every curse.

  Now.

  Now.

  NOW!

  … What had he been thinking? Aaron felt dizzy.

  Where was he? Oh yes... standing in the snow. Watching this woman, this new general of the republican army as she stared at Narael, eyes wide, trying to respond.

  “Y... yes,” she said.

  “Yes dingir,” Narael instructed. “It means great god. Say it.”

  She hesitated.

  “SAY IT!” Narael screamed, his eyes wide as he rose another five feet, his arms outstretched at his sides, palms up.

  The republican soldiers fell to their knees, their guns beside them in the snow. “Yes dingir,” they said, including their new general.

  “Good... now go from my sight,” Narael said as he drifted toward the ground. When his feet finally touched, he turned to Buckley. “You will find me a place of peace in which to sit. I will now eat.”

  Wait... Aaron had wanted to try his plan... He should do so. He... wait. He'd done it hadn't he? Yes. He felt the emotion in him, the swell. It was ebbing now like the tide. His body had stopped him. He'd lost and no one had even noticed.

  Buckley stared at the sorcerer, seemingly at a loss. “Eat?”

  “It has been three thousand years since a morsel of food has passed these lips,” Narael said. “Come. I will eat and rest. Then tomorrow, I will burn a city.”

  Yes you will, Aaron thought, for I have no way to stop you.

  * * *

  “What are these?” Celia asked as she twisted the two knives in her hands. They were similar to highland dirks except that one side was serrated. Oddly, it was a different side on each one. It seemed like they'd been made to stab, but also bleed as the blade was removed. The metal itself was confusing as well, pure black but dull, extremely so. The knives seemed to shun any sort of light. “I've never seen anything like them.”

  Vex smiled, showing rows of pointed teeth. “Nor has any other human, not for a long time.”

  “What do you mean? Are they from your people... the salmu?” she asked.

  “They are, but it seems they were last owned by an urbat assassin,” Vex said. He nodded to the head ghoul. “Those will do nicely for her, thank you,” he said, placing a hand on the thin female creature's forehead. In response, she shuddered.

  Celia was as forgiving a person as anyone. She'd never been the kind to prejudge any dierlijt but these ghouls were starting to get under her skin. The longer she was with them, the more she noticed things they did. The way their tongues lapped along their thin white lips every time they passed her, the way they moved even as if every joint was just a little too flexible. It was unnerving.

  “An urbat is... the term means dog of death... they were made from creatures who prowl the deserts looking to steal carrion.”

  “They sound lovely,” she replied.

  “I think they may be gone now. I've not seen any in your cities,” he replied. “Hold out your hands.”

  Celia did so, in each palm she held one of the knives. Vex put his hands on hers.

  “Uri duranki salmu,” he said.

  Her hands stung with a sharp heat that pierced into her wrists and up, inside her arms. The blades were gone.

  “You may now summon them at will,” Vex said.

  “How?” she asked.

  “Will it,” he replied.

  She stabbed the air as if the blade were still in her hand and it was... instantly it had returned. As she opened her hand, the blade disappeared again, as if it had never been there.

  “That is really useful,” she said.

  Vex nodded. “They told me they found it in a grave in a different city.”

  “So they take things from graves?”

  Vex nodded. “Yes... it was necessary. We had few weapons and fewer wizards... at the end we had to make do with anything we could get,” he shrugged. “They'd always called us grave robbers anyway.”

  Celia nodded.

  “Those knives will bleed a human, but there is more to them. They're meant to kill our kind. It will take more than one blow... but it will-”

  “Wait... are you saying I have to fight the sorcerer?”

  Vex nodded. “As soon as we attack the tower he will come to defend it. It's a great advantage for him, the beginning of his new world. That's why it must be destroyed.”

  She narrowed her eyes. Something about his tone bothered her. He seemed... saddened?

  “What's wrong?” she asked.

  He lowered his head, looking away. “I cannot go with you to the tower.”

  “What?” Celia snapped. “You're leaving me alone! You piece of shit!”

  He held up his hands. “No! I will be with you... in your ear.”

  “What the hell are you-”

  Can you hear me?

  Celia's eyes went wide. “Yes...” she whispered. Vex's lips hadn't moved, nor had there been any sound. She'd just... heard him in her head.

  This is how.

  “But why can't you come?” she asked. “Are you afraid of him?”

  He looked away again, sighing. “Yes, honestly. The dingir must be very strong to raise a tower so quickly. But that's not why. I'm still bound, Celia. If he saw me, he could order me to
tear you to pieces with my bare hands and I would have to.” One of his hands with the long thin fingers reached toward her.

  Celia did not pull away, she let his claws slide delicately across her cheek.

  “I don't want you hurt... but I really don't want to be forced to hurt you,” he said.

  She looked into his eyes, blood red and unblinking. “I understand.”

  “Good,” he said. “We must go, there is more to do. The spell must be started before midnight.”

  “What spell?” she asked.

  He looked back at her, grinning. “You'll see.”

  Celia laughed. “Where?”

  “They brought them to a cathedral,” he replied, leading her out of the cemetery.

  At least now that it was dark, there were far fewer humans. Only drunks, criminals, and the dierlijt walked the streets late at night in the dead of winter. That suited Celia just fine and Vex also, it was easy to see that he felt more at home in the dark.

  “Which cathedral?” she asked.

  Vex frowned. “There is more than one?”

  “Yes... there's the new Cavlinist one to the east of the palace, that one's massive, and the old Tian cathedral. Part of that is currently being renovated actually, they restrict who goes in and comes out.”

  “How do you know all this?” Vex asked.

  “When it's cold and you need somewhere to sleep, big buildings are something you always look into,” she replied.

  “I think it's the first one,” he said as a dart thumped into his chest.

  Vex's red eyes and his long thin nose tracked down to inspect the small thin stick that had just pierced his skin.

  “Wha-” Celia started to say, as a second dart hit her in the left forearm. “Shit,” she said, plucking it out. “That was probably poisoned... It means we have only seconds to live. Vex let me tell you before we-”

  “Nonsense,” he said, grimacing as he snatched the dart from his chest. “Poison won't affect either of us.”

  “What?” she asked, startled.

  He looked at her, raising his thin ghoul eyebrows and she remembered the inks in her skin as two more darts pierced her flesh, one in her arm and the other at the nape of her neck.

  Celia was surprised, they weren't even that painful. She pulled the dart from her neck, looking at it. A deep green substance coated the metal point, it smelled acrid, bitter. Wolf's bane probably. Very deadly.

  Then out of the shadows of a darkened smoke shop appeared a man, alone. He wore Scarosian dress with a wide-brimmed hat and a long green cloak, but it was the jingle that gave him away. On his wrist was the charm. A tiny golden bell.

  Celia was surprisingly calm.

  So long had she feared a moment just like this. So many nightmares had wakened her, her heart pumping with terror, at the idea of an assassin coming for her. He looked very much like her nightmares too, the checkered Scarosian breeches, the long cloak, the feathered hat, and the face... entirely dispassionate, dead.

  Yet she felt no fear.

  “Breach of contract,” the man said. “I'm here to enforce the terms on behalf of the client.” he gestured toward his chest in the customary way. It was meant to show that he bore her no ill will... but Celia took it to mean something else... that he gestured toward the hole where a human heart ought to be.

  She stood still, looking back at him.

  This gave him pause.

  “No running?” he asked, tilting his head, causing the long feathers in his hat to bounce.

  Celia shook her head. “My... partner and I have business to attend to.” When she looked at Vex, she saw him inspecting the man's clothes. They were relatively similar to those Vex had worn when she first saw him, minus the scarf. It would be an excellent upgrade from the torn rags he'd inherited from the old ghoul.

  “I like your hat,” Vex said.

  The assassin stood, uneasy. Celia could see his hands near his breast, where the throwing knives were stored. They too would be coated with poison, a different one. It was possible to run into people who were immune to certain poisons, after all. The more difficult the target, the more likely it was that they had precautions in place.

  Four knives flicked from the assassin's cloak. Two hit Vex in the chest, one hit Celia in the thigh, but the other she caught. She'd wanted to see if it was possible... it was.

  The assassin's curiosity was waning, replaced by frustration.

  “Are you going to attack me, or not?” Celia asked.

  The assassin looked at Vex, certainly an unnatural sight, barely clothed in winter, with his gleaming pointed teeth and ivory skin.

  Vex smiled, holding up his hands as he backed away. “Please... be my guest,” he said. Then he looked to Celia. “Try to leave his clothes undamaged.”

  Celia smiled. Having someone trust her so completely felt good.

  The fight was over before it began. The assassin ran at her straight on. He had a short rapier and a parrying dagger secreted beneath his cloak which he drew in a furious attack. He seemed slow to her already, like easy prey, but rather than kill him right out by snapping the bones of his arms and neck, she activated the symbol on her left arm and to him... she disappeared.

  It was good to learn the symbols, to practice. The sorcerer would not be so easy.

  She dodged his attack with ease and stepped around to his side, kicking him in the shin, which snapped like a twig.

  The assassin grunted, losing his footing.

  Celia was behind him now and summoned a blade directly into the back of his chest, wondering if it would work. It did.

  Blood gushed from his mouth as she deactivated the shadow sign, reappearing in the deepening dark of the night. Her attacker slumped, unable to cry out, drowning in his own blood.

  “You know Vex...” she said.

  Vex looked up from the dying man to her, raising thin eyebrows.

  “He's an assassin. He's committed many crimes. I'm sure any judge would condemn him without question.”

  Vex's tongue slipped from his ghoul's mouth, running along his teeth. A string of drool ran down his chin.

  “But... you... should not watch,” he said, stepping forward.

  She did though, she watched it all.

  * * *

  “Well, it looks like they're not coming again,” Werner said. His brow furrowed and covered in sweat despite the cold of the Ganex command tent.

  “What makes you say that?” Claus asked.

  “Because we beat them back twice and now they've withdrawn even farther,” he replied.

  “If they'd kept marching you might have an argument,” Mia said from her seat. It was not comfortable, but she was tired. She'd spent a great deal of her power today fueling Marian and the flames of her sword. She could feel it. It was hard to even keep her eyes open. “But they didn't. They made a new camp farther back.”

  Claus nodded slowly. He too looked tired but a different kind. He looked ill. More so than before. “Command told me that the sorcerer's yellow eyed goliaths have joined up with their forces.”

  “What?” Sylvia asked.

  Greta frowned, folding her arms. “We knew it would happen eventually.”

  “It looks like they won't be coming tonight but can we be sure of that?” Claus asked. “Mia? Do you know anything about this creature? You fought him.”

  “Very little,” Mia said. She thought back to her time with Harald and the many things he could do. The sorcerer was similar... only far more powerful. “There seem to be two kinds of them.”

  “You mean like in the Tian book, angels and devils?” Sylvie asked.

  The young Fenasian girl's head was wrapped with a red spot where she'd smacked it when her goliath had been bowled over during the second attack. All in all she'd done well for a new knight but with her goliath gone, she would not be participating in the next wave. Mia was glad of it.

  Greta shook her head. “No, no... There aren't good ones and bad ones. They're all bad. Look at the baroness of Aey
rdfeld. I trusted her! I joined her cause because I thought she cared about the people. She's just weaker than this monster we'll be facing. Otherwise, she might have done her own horrors,” then she seemed to remember something and looked to Mia. “Present company excepted, of course.”

  Mia folded her arms. “Believe me, I'm no fan of the former baroness, but this thing we're about to fight is much worse. I've been with Christine for a long time. Her heart is not black and dead, like that sorcerer.”

  “How can you say that after what she did to you?” Greta asked, aghast.

  “Yes... what exactly did she do to you?” Werner asked.

  Mia's eyes flicked to him. “Enough,” she said.

  “Enough to what?” Werner asked her. “To worship the dark one?”

  Greta sucker-punched him in the stomach. Werner doubled over, wheezing.

  “Mia doesn't have to tell you anything,” Greta said. “I've seen her smashed to a bloody pulp trying to fight this creature that invades our lands. You shut up and leave her be.”

  “So you've decided to be Ganex again?” Claus asked softly.

  “Only because I have to,” Greta replied.

  “Can we perhaps discuss some kind of plan?” Mia asked. “I... really need to sleep.”

  “As far as I can tell Mia,” Claus replied. “There's only one plan that makes any sense to me.”

  Greta looked at him. “And that would be?”

  “We do everything we can to support Mia while she hurts that bastard.”

  “He has hundreds of those golden-eyed goliaths,” Greta said. “How exactly do we do that?”

  “It's true,” Mia said. “I believe I will be able to beat them, individually at least. I won against Aaron. It just took some work,”

  “Against who?” Sylvie asked.

  “No one...” Greta replied. Mia could see the tears in her eyes, shining in the cool light of Claus's blue-tinged veil lamp.

  “The question is... Once I start killing them I'll be a threat. They'd be stupid not to focus on me.”

  “Hmmm...” Claus replied, fingertips stroking at the end of his chin. “You make an excellent point.”