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Gates of Ruin (Magelands Eternal Siege, #6)

Page 30

by Christopher Mitchell


  Arete’s thoughts were in turmoil. She wanted to seize Blackrose, but feared being trapped amid two dozen adult dragons who could kill her before she could kill them first. She was waiting, hoping that the dragons would fight each other, and then she noticed Sable’s physical form, sitting on the ground. She knew the Holdfast woman was using her powers, but couldn’t sense them.

  Sable pushed her thoughts into the Ascendant’s mind. Quit while you’re ahead . You have destroyed the Catacombs and taught the wild dragons a lesson. Dozens are dead; they will never oppose the Ascendants again. Return to Alea Tanton; your work is done.

  Arete frowned, her thoughts in confusion. Her mind was strong and, though she couldn’t sense Sable’s presence, she could resist her persuasion better than most. Sable tried another tack. A virile strain of paranoia snaked through the Ascendant’s mind, born of millennia of mistrust and betrayal.

  Forget about the dragons, Sable insinuated into her thoughts; you should be more worried about what Leksandr is doing back in Alea Tanton. He mocks your failure with Kelsey Holdfast; he is laughing at you, and conspiring against you. He will sell you out to the Second Ascendant to save his own skin; you know this to be true. Every minute that you are away, he grows more confident, more powerful. What are you waiting for? The Catacombs have been obliterated, and who cares about getting one dragon back to the pits of the mortals? Go back, and show Leksandr that you are not fooled by his double-dealing. Go, before it is too late.

  Arete frowned, then glanced at the Quadrant. She chewed her lip for a moment, then vanished. Sable pulled her vision back and toppled over, her senses exhausted.

  Sanguino’s forelimb darted out, and he caught her as she fell.

  ‘Well, witch?’ said Deathfang.

  ‘She’s gone,’ said Sable, struggling to keep her eyes open. ‘She’s gone back to Alea Tanton.’

  ‘Good work,’ said Blackrose. ‘Are you alright?’

  ‘Tired,’ said Sable. ‘I might have to rest for a bit. Wrestling with an Ascendant was harder than I thought…’

  Sable’s eyes closed, and she slipped into oblivion.

  Chapter 21

  An End to Suffering

  A lea Tanton, Tordue, Western Khatanax – 3rd Kolinch 5252

  Belinda longed for death. With every second that passed, she wished for the end. Death would be a mercy next to the agonies inflicted by the restraining mask, a kindness. It drove out everything from her mind, all love and hope, and any thoughts of the future. With the mask on, there was no future but pain.

  Yendra had been in a mask for nearly three hundred years without dying; could Belinda last that long? She was an Ascendant, so perhaps she could remain even longer within its cruel embrace. Her wrists had been shackled to prevent her from trying to remove it, and she was lying on a cold stone floor. Sometimes she heard voices, but their words didn’t register with her. Some hours, or perhaps a day, before, she had heard what had sounded like Arete’s laughter, but it had meant nothing to Belinda, and had aroused no emotion within her.

  Hands grabbed her shoulders. Maybe someone had decided to show her some mercy; maybe they would take a sword to her neck and end the pain forever.

  Words were spoken. Was someone saying her name?

  She opened her mouth to plead for death, but something stopped her.

  Don’t give up, she told herself; not yet.

  Hands reached round to the back of her head, and the strap was unbuckled. At once the pressure on her eyes lessened a little, and then the mask was ripped from her face. Her self-healing powered up, the strain on it gone, and she sank back to the ground, panting as the pain began to ebb. The shackles round her wrists were removed next, and then the chains by her ankles fell free.

  ‘Rest,’ said a voice full of pity.

  A hand took hold of hers, and squeezed gently.

  ‘It’s over,’ whispered the voice. ‘I’m here now; your pain is at an end. Open your mouth, just a little.’

  She did so, and felt a drop of salve touch her tongue. A wave of healing surged through her body, and she convulsed. Her face felt as though it was on fire as the salve worked on rebuilding her eyes. She cried out, shaking, but the hand never let go of hers.

  ‘That’s it,’ said the voice; ‘that’s better. Can you open your eyes?’

  She tried. Her vision was sore and blurry, her healed eyes almost blinded by the light from a lamp. A face hovered over her, a face that seemed to be glowing with a pure radiance. She tried to focus, and the features on the face sharpened. It was a man. He was gazing down at her with a mixture of concern and anger. Her vision cleared. He was beautiful, perfect. He smiled, and it made her want to touch his face.

  ‘Who are you?’ she said.

  ‘Do you not know me, Belinda?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘That saddens me, although I had been warned that you had lost your memories. All of the history that we share, and you remember nothing of it. But, maybe, this will allow us a fresh start together. A clean slate.’

  He helped her sit up, and she rested her back against the wall of the bare chamber. They were alone in the room, she realised.

  ‘Tell me your name,’ she said.

  ‘All right. I am Edmond.’

  She narrowed her eyes. ‘The Second Ascendant?’

  He laughed. ‘Yes. Don’t look so scared, Belinda; no harm will come to you. You are safe now.’

  ‘Where are we? Where’s Leksandr?’

  ‘He is being punished as we speak; Felice too. Their treatment of you crossed a line, and I doubt I will ever be able to forgive them for what they did to you.’ His eyes darkened, and she caught a glimpse of the immense hatred that was coursing through him. ‘They are lucky to be alive.’

  ‘How long was I in the mask?’

  ‘Four days. Can you stand?’

  ‘I think so.’

  He helped her up, and she became aware of the state of her clothes. Leksandr must have left her lying in the stone chamber, neglected and filthy, for the entire time, and she grew embarrassed.

  ‘I need to wash,’ she said, glancing away from Edmond.

  ‘That’s where I’m taking you, Belinda,’ he said; ‘to a bathroom, where a hot bath has been drawn for you, and fresh clothes are ready. Do you wish to have servants attend to your needs?’

  ‘No. Thank you, I’ll do it alone.’

  She put some weight onto her feet, and walked on her own, feeling her cramps and aches vanish. Edmond showed her to a door, and they walked down a deserted hallway to a large, tiled bathroom. Steam was rising from the bath, and she went in.

  ‘I will wait for you here,’ said Edmond. ‘Take as long as you wish.’

  He closed the door, and Belinda walked to the full-length mirror that sat against a wall. She raised a hand to her mouth, her reflection making her want to throw up. Blood and pus was streaking her face, coming down in channels from each eye. Her robes were ragged and soiled, and her hair lank with sweat and matted with clumps of blood. She pulled her clothes off, and threw them into the corner of the room so they were as far away from her as possible, then climbed into the bath, sinking down into the hot water. She lay there for a moment, trying to piece together what had happened to her, then she picked up a bar of soap and got to work.

  * * *

  Belinda spent two hours in the bathroom, scrubbing every inch of her body, and washing her hair several times. She opened a window to let the steam escape, and pulled on the dress that had been laid out for her over the back of a chair. It wasn’t her style, and she felt self-conscious as she looked at her reflection.

  Four days, she thought. The worst four days of her life. She remembered freeing Naxor from a mask in the Royal Palace in Ooste, and how quickly he had seemed to recover from the experience. He had been in it for two days, and she hoped that her recovery would be as seamless. Already, her mind was trying to forget all about it, as if it had been nothing but a bad dream.

  The woman in the mirror star
ed back at her, and Belinda frowned. Edmond had rescued her. The Second Ascendant himself was in Lostwell. She tried hard to summon some hatred for him, but how could she after he had taken her pain away? He had gazed at her as if he loved her, despite the blood, pus and vile stench. Could he really be as bad as everyone said?

  She opened the door. Edmond was standing in the hallway. His glance turned from looking out of a window and he faced her, his eyes widening.

  ‘You are so beautiful,’ he said; ‘like a dream. I have longed for this moment for a thousand years; no, longer.’

  She looked at him. She hadn’t been mistaken before; his skin seemed to glow with its own light, and his face was as perfect as any could be.

  ‘Thank you for removing the mask,’ she said.

  He smiled. ‘We have much to discuss. Walk with me, and we shall visit Lord Bastion.’

  ‘Is he in Old Alea too?’

  ‘He is. Do you know, this is the first time I have left Implacatus in five millennia? Lord Bastion has travelled through many worlds on my behalf, but only your presence here could entice me to leave my palace in Serene.’

  They began to walk through the empty hallway, passing the door to the room where she had been kept.

  ‘We shan’t linger long in Lostwell,’ he said. ‘I have plans, many plans.’

  He pushed on another door, and they entered Leksandr’s study. The Sixth Ascendant was on the floor in front of the Sextant, covered in blood. His boots had been removed, and his severed toes were scattered on the thick carpet. Next to him lay Lady Felice, her skin green-hued, and her face a melted mask of bone and blood. Above them stood Bastion, his eyes on the two gods beneath him. He turned as Edmond and Belinda entered, and bowed.

  ‘How are our prisoners?’ said Edmond.

  ‘Suffering, my lord,’ said Bastion.

  ‘Good.’

  Leksandr looked up from the floor, his face mirroring the agony of his torture. ‘Mercy, please…’

  Edmond lashed out, kicking Leksandr in the face. He crouched down by the Sixth Ascendant and gripped his throat in his left hand. With his right, he withdrew a thin knife from his belt and used it to jab and then scoop out Leksandr’s left eye.

  The Sixth Ascendant screamed as blood poured from his eye socket.

  ‘You will receive no mercy from me,’ spat Edmond, pushing Leksandr back to the floor. He stood and glanced at Bastion. ‘Have them removed from my presence. Let them fester in the dungeons for a while.’

  Bastion nodded, then clapped his hands. Another door opened, and a man walked in. Belinda stared. It was Renko, the leader of the operation that she and Corthie had defeated in the Falls of Iron; except, something was wrong with him. His skin was grey and mottled, and he was moving with an awkward gait. His eyes seemed vacant as he glanced at Bastion.

  ‘Take these two to the cells in the eastern tower,’ said Bastion.

  Renko nodded slowly, then bent down and lifted both Leksandr and Felice, who hung limp in his arms. He turned, and left the chamber, a soldier outside closing the door behind him.

  ‘Renko?’ said Belinda.

  ‘Indeed,’ said Edmond. ‘Another who has paid for his transgressions against me. I sentenced him to death upon his return from this world; he had failed me in every conceivable way. However, I then changed my mind, but Lord Bastion had already carried out the sentence. I revived him, but, as you have just witnessed, I was too late.’ He glanced at Bastion. ‘How long was he dead for?’

  ‘About ten minutes, my lord.’

  ‘And now he is a mindless drone,’ said Edmond. ‘I expect I’ll burn him to ashes once I tire of his presence, but for now he serves as an example that I must not be too hasty in my judgements. It was he who told me that you still lived, and for that I should be grateful to him.’

  He turned to the Sextant and walked towards it. ‘And now, we have this. A real Sextant; the last in existence. Leksandr told me that you had worked out what was wrong with it. Something is missing, is that correct?’

  ‘I don’t know; it was a mere guess on my part.’

  He smiled. ‘You used to know.’

  ‘I used to know many things.’

  ‘Yes.’ He gazed into her eyes. ‘There were arguments that passed between us that I wish I could forget; cruel words said by us both that you are better off not being able to recall.’

  ‘Bastion told me the rudiments of our quarrel.’

  ‘Good. He also re-familiarised you with the vow you made me. Of course, there is now the question of whether or not someone can be held to a vow about which they have no recollection. Bastion is of the opinion that you do not have to honour it, whereas I disagree. Isn’t that right, Bastion?’

  ‘That remains my opinion, my lord.’

  ‘Yes. Bastion thinks that I should forget the vow and have you executed for treason.’ He smiled. ‘You are a traitor, after all, and that applies to you both before and after your memory loss. Bastion thinks I am being unnecessarily lenient on you; what do you think?’

  Belinda’s eyes went from Bastion, who was frowning at her, to Edmond. ‘I don’t know enough about you to say either way.’

  ‘A good answer,’ Edmond said. ‘It holds out the implicit promise that you want to get to know me better, thereby delaying any future punishment for your crimes. It doesn’t have to be that way. I may be a fool, but I am willing to take you back based upon your word alone. Since I cannot read your mind, your word will have to do. Why did you revive the Holdfast boy?’

  ‘Because I care about him.’

  Edmond’s eyes clouded over with rage, and Belinda almost flinched.

  ‘As a brother,’ she added.

  Edmond relaxed. ‘Oh. A brother. I see. Well then, that seems a rather trivial offence, hardly one that warrants a restrainer mask. Leksandr also alleges that you deliberately withheld information regarding the location of the salve world. He said that you knew about a certain demigod who had used a Quadrant to travel there, and you didn’t let Leksandr or Arete know this.’

  ‘I didn’t realise the implications,’ said Belinda. ‘I thought that a physical Quadrant was required. I didn’t know that a person who had used one would do. You must remember that I am having to relearn everything, including matters that may seem obvious to you.’

  Edmond glanced at Bastion. ‘Do you see? This new Belinda is a lost innocent, blissfully unaware of the consequences of her actions.’

  ‘Or, she’s a liar, my lord.’

  ‘Hmm. If anyone else called her that, I would kill them.’

  ‘Yes, my lord.’

  ‘Leave us.’

  Bastion bowed. ‘Yes, my lord.’

  Edmond waited until the Ancient had left the chamber, then he gestured to a long couch. ‘Let’s sit.’

  They walked over and took their places at either end of the couch.

  ‘I want to talk, just the two of us,’ he said.

  ‘What about?’

  ‘Us. We were lovers once. We made vows to each other, and then you betrayed me by running away with Nathaniel. It wasn’t the cause of the wars, though many believe it was, but it certainly didn’t help the situation. You don’t remember any of this, of course, but I recall every detail. I can remember the scent of your perfume on the last night we spent together; it haunted my dreams for many years. I also remember the rage I felt whenever I imagined you in Nathaniel’s arms. I have a temper at times.’

  ‘Why did I run away with him?’

  Edmond stared at her for a long moment, his eyes fixed on hers. ‘That, Belinda, is the question I have been asking myself for thousands of years. If I had understood that, then perhaps my pain would have been less. One moment we were together, pledging ourselves to each other, and the next, you had gone. I was in denial at first, imagining that you had been abducted against your will, or that it was all just a silly misunderstanding, but no – you were with him; you married Nathaniel. It broke me into a thousand pieces, and I don’t think I’ve ever managed to put
them all back together again.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  He glanced away, and she thought he was angry, but then he wiped the tears from his eyes. ‘I have waited so long to hear you say those words,’ he said, trying to keep himself from sobbing. ‘You have no idea how much they mean to me, my dear Belinda.’ He stood. ‘Please excuse me.’

  She watched as he hurried from the room. She frowned, wondering if he had left so that he could cry without her witnessing. What did it all mean? Had she betrayed him; had she been in the wrong? She tried to imagine what it had been like to be his lover. He was easily the most beautiful man she had ever seen; he was perfectly proportioned, and his face was truly that of a god. And yet, there was something not right about him. His cruelty towards Leksandr and Felice, despite what they had done to her, was beyond anything she could have conceived. And the way his face had changed when she had said that she cared about Corthie. He was jealous and spiteful, the opposite of how he appeared on the outside.

  Lord Bastion entered the room. He glanced at her.

  ‘Third Ascendant,’ he said as he approached. ‘The Second Ascendant needs a few moments alone. He has given me permission to ask you a few more questions.’

  ‘Alright.’

  Bastion sat. ‘How many Holdfasts are on Lostwell?’

  ‘Three.’

  He nodded. ‘Corthie, the battle-vision warrior?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Kelsey, who can block powers?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Then the last one would be Sable, is that correct?’

  ‘It is.’

  ‘Does Sable have powers?’

  ‘Vision powers, yes; from battle to inner.’

  ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘We intend to kill them all; how does that make you feel?’

 

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