The thought brought on visions from the days after the last voidstorm when the Gray Death ran rampant. She relived the slaughter, the giant pyres, the burning of thousands of corrupted. She could smell their cooking flesh, hear their piteous cries even now, the echoes of their misery.
But there was hope, however slight. All she needed was for one of her contacts to provide information on the whereabouts of Adesh Hamada, Dante Blackblade, Saba Nerubi, Gilda Mordian, or Drelan Frost. Or anyone inquiring after the empowered spells. Either one would lead her to the zhua, Benediction. Perihy could yet be saved. He would have his horns, unblemished features, and chocolate skin again.
Why else would there be this accursed Cure quest for the zhua? Or the other, named Saving Perihy? Both objectives lingered in her mind, making her as much a prisoner of her pain, as she had made Perihy a prisoner in the Temple of Nif.
“You did just enough to atone for your many failures.” Bakui Assam’s nasal voice broke Setnana from her thoughts. That voice grated at her ears despite the fact it was only coming through the Comm Orb.
Scowling, she could imagine Bakui Assam’s smug expression as if he were present. His projection of authority. His condescending manner as if he stood above the world entire.
She clenched her fist, barely staving off the inadvertent summoning of aether lightning. Botros show no weakness. Strength always. Papa’s mantra calmed her.
Breathing deep and slow, she reminded herself of the truths she’d come to realize. Bakui Assam was not as smart as he thought himself. Neither was he as handsome or as strong as he believed. The hitch in his gait, the blemishes on his horns, his thin hair, said he was well past his prime. All he had over her was his position as Exarch.
And Aishani.
Setnana grimaced. Soothing herself with the notion Aishani loathed the man, she refocused on his voice.
“You acquired a Genesis Engine for us.” Glee dripped from his tone. “I hope you did as I commanded and told no one. Kill everyone who saw what it was before you brought it out of the Sanctum. And I do mean everyone. Have the Engine transported to Modra’s Keep. Aishani and I will meet you there when I’m finished with this… this… issue… you created in Kituan.”
Those last words were a reminder of her failure. Of broken rules. Bruised egos. Of amends to be made to Kalarch Stadius Voculo and the humans.
Two objectives bloomed in her head. Kill the Witnesses and Delivery to Modra’s Keep.
Wine glass in hand, she studied the other two women in the room with a flat expression. “Bakui Assam has ordered your deaths.”
Major Neferna stood with her head high, dark horns resplendent. Clad in the Blackguard’s namesake colors, she seemed at peace. Neither her hands at her side nor her hard eyes betrayed any emotion. As a reaver of considerable skill, she might last twenty seconds if she decided to fight.
Vindicator Dita Paresh, on the other hand, licked his lips. His already pale turquoise skin had grown even paler. His ossicones trembled. His blue eyes shifted to match the near indiscernible movement of his head as if he yearned to look over his shoulder where Ihuet and Khafra waited in the shadows. For a person who had walked all sorts of battlefields, had seen all sorts of carnage, it was ironic that death frightened him.
Or perhaps that knowledge was the very reason for his fear. Horrific memories of such endings.
Grand korae, quick to condemn others without a thought for their own fate. Or their shortcomings. Setnana took a sip of the sweet red Kelsial Valley vintage to hide her disgust at Dita Paresh’s lack of horns.
“I live to serve you and the Hand, my nomarch.” Neferna was still expressionless. “If my death serves, then so be it.”
“I, too, live to serve.” Vindicator Dita swallowed visibly. “But are these orders the Hand’s will? And what purpose would it serve to sever a mystic who possesses almost all the requirements to cure the Gray Death?”
“I asked myself the very same questions. But I had made my decision even before then.” Setnana nodded to Major Neferna as a sign of respect. “Major, I would not kill someone who has shown nothing but loyalty no matter what I asked.”
“Thank you, my nomarch.” Neferna bowed.
Setnana turned her attention to the Vindicator, met the man’s gaze with ice, and allowed herself a mirthless smile. “As for you, Dita Paresh, you can still help my Perihy with his affliction once we get our hands on a Benediction.”
Dita sucked in a slow, shuddering breath. He averted his eyes. “I look forward to redeeming myself, Nomarch Botros.”
“Good.” Setnana tucked her hair behind one of her horns. “Bakui Assam’s order tells me he wants the Engine kept secret from everyone. He did not tell the Five Fingers. If he had, one of their Shadows would have been here in Aprunis to meet us.” Setnana shivered with the thought of the cutthroats no one ever saw coming. “And he did not demand the Engine be taken to one of the Hand’s strongholds. Instead, he named Modra’s Keep, his little private enclave hidden away in the Kaigake Desert. He covets the Engine for himself.
“We will do as he ordered with the Engine. When he arrives at the keep, we can discuss the dilemma with him. And state our terms. Make the necessary preparations. We leave at first light.”
“Yes, nomarch.” The grand kora man and erada woman bowed and took their leave.
When the door closed behind them, Setnana sagged into her favorite cushioned chair. She emptied the glass and looked to her personal Battleguards. “What do you think?”
They glanced at each other. And then back to her.
“You did the right thing.” Khafra stood with his hands crossed at his waist, korbitanium vambraces on display. “And you should have us kill Bakui.”
Burn scars marred Khafra’s indigo face. He’d refused to have them healed, saying they were a reminder of what happens when a man underestimates his opponent. A strange kind of beauty existed in those scars.
“I agree with Khafra.” Ihuet’s quiet voice, lithe build, unassuming manner, and penchant to dress in mundane garb might make a person think less of him. Many had taken such thoughts to the grave. “The Fingers respect shrewdness, power, and ruthlessness above all else. This is an opportunity to improve your status. Opportunity waits for no one. You must seize it.”
She sat back and gazed up to the vaulted ceiling. If there was ever a time to chase her dream of becoming Kalarch, to fulfill that quest, it was now. And Ihuet was right. Ranks of the Hand was an objective for as long as she could remember. The very traits he mentioned had seen her attain Disciple status, the fourth rank, in a short period of time.
How exactly to proceed? That was the question. If she did the deed, it had to be in a manner that would not cause undue suspicion from the Coalition.
She had the spark of an idea. “Ihuet, there should be two gargants outside, waiting for an audience. Send them in.”
Ihuet left to obey. Moments later, he returned, leading Esben and Frida.
Upon entry, the two gargants were forced to duck their furry heads despite the fortress’ tall doors. Esben was the color of old blood and his loose-fitting robes did little to hide a round belly. Frida was the opposite in size, her fur like new grass. Looking at the thick fur made Setnana itch.
Setnana had disliked the idea of relying on more outside help in her desperate attempt to cure Perihy, but in this case, it was the best option. The only one. Her hierkaneers and alchemists had all failed. As had the grand korae. As had Dita. And she was certain Esben and Frida were no different, but they had discovered something else, something she could use.
“Nomarch Setnana.” As they spoke, the gargants offered the slightest of bows.
“Esben, Frida, so glad to see you.” Smiling, she beckoned to them. “You said you had news. Good news, I hope. After all the credits I paid for your services.”
Esben lo
oked to Frida, who nodded. His fearful eyes shifted to Ihuet and Khafra for a moment.
“They are just my personal guard.” Setnana lounged in her chair and waved off Ihuet and Khafra as if they were inconsequential. “I assure you that anything said here is said in confidence.”
“Very well.” The alchemist’s voice was a deep rumble. “We tried every possible spell and potion we could think of. We even went so far as to have one of your hierkaneers strengthen our concoctions by way of the Genesis Engine. Nothing worked. The poison flowing through your son only became stronger. So strong that the corruption could be passed through ingestion of his blood.”
He produced a belt from the folds of his robes. Leather slots ran the length of the belt. Stoppered vials occupied them. “These contain the tainted blood. We intended to destroy them, but you had already warned us that anything of your son was to be brought directly to you on punishment of death.”
“You did the right thing. Thank you for your honesty.” She gestured to the table. “Leave the belt there.”
Esben stepped forward and placed the belt on the oak table. “We have done all we can. We are truly sorry we could not do more.”
“Me too. Thank you for the effort.” She clasped her hands and dipped her head. “My steward, Resena, will see to your payment. Ihuet, see them out and tell a servant to take them to Resena.”
After a last slight bow to her, Esben and Frida departed in Ihuet’s company. Setnana sighed. Killing those two was a waste of talent, but it was another of those necessary things to preserve her secret. At least the lupines would be pleased.
Her Comm Orb dinged in time with Ihuet’s return.
Citri Madiga’s shrill voice and Purian accent piped through. “Nomarch Setnana. Come to the temple, now. Hurry. It’s Perihy. He—” A scream cut off her voice.
Heart racing, Setnana leaped to her feet, Perihy her immediate concern. “Something has happened at the temple. Go!” Dread was a claw squeezing her heart.
They dashed through the fortress, servants scrambling from their path. As soon as they exited the building, they blew their drake whistles. Screeches echoed in the night.
They hurried down the stairs to the flagstoned courtyard. The wait seemed to take forever. Urgency and fear pressed down upon Setnana. She battled frantic thoughts as her leg shook with impatience.
In the next few minutes came the sound of beating wings. Three drakes shot over the fortress, banked, and lowered to the ground.
Setnana clambered atop her mount, a sky-blue drake that matched her skin. Ihuet and Khafra rode a green and a red, respectively. She pulled on her reins, and with a great beat of its wings, her drake took to the night sky.
Heading toward the city’s radiant ocean of bloomglobes and glimmerwands, they left the acropolis’ towers and spires behind. They sped over the Noble Domain’s villas and orchards into the Obsidian Quarter. Veins of black rock glinted beneath them.
As an arrow from a bow, her drake’s snout pointed at the statue of Nif where it reached into the sky. She kicked her bolsters, coaxing more speed from the beast. They shot past the Radiant Quarter, the crystal orb of the Great Timesphere, and over the temple grounds.
The moment her drake touched down at the entrance to the rearmost buildings, she leaped from its back. Ihuet and Khafra were a step quicker. She Flickered past them, worry an undigested meal settling in her gut.
Their trip down the corridors was a blur. Up ahead was the room where they had kept Perihy. The metal door lay in the hall. Scorch marks marred the walls. The reek of something burnt drifted on the air. As did another, stronger fetor.
Blood.
Ihuet and Khafra reached the door first. She was a step behind.
Slaughter greeted her.
Something had torn the two guards and the grand kora mystics to pieces. Limbs and guts covered the floor. The table upon which Perihy had been shackled was empty. The chains had been snapped.
Steeling herself, she made to step into the room. Ihuet’s hand on her arm stopped her.
“Look.” He pointed at a corpse.
It took but a moment for her to understand who and what she was seeing. The person was Citri Madiga. Part of her face and a chunk of flesh was missing from her neck.
But it was her skin. Gray splotches stood out on her pale, yellow skin.
A rustle from the adjoining room startled her. Ihuet had his storm lance in hand. Khafra faced the room’s open door in a defensive stance, korbitanium vambraces ready.
They crept to the doorway. Setnana gasped.
Perihy was there. Or rather, the draconid grunt with metallic gray skin threaded with a network of green and blue veins beating in time with his heart. Eyes closed, he was curled at the foot of the Genesis Engine, his body giving off a faint glow.
“We must get him out of there,” Setnana whispered.
“That will be a challenge.” Ihuet matched her tone. “Not only will he fight us, but if a spell hits the Engine, the explosion would take this entire place with it.”
“I have a solution. Wait here.” Khafra stalked down the hallway to another room.
He returned minutes later carrying two sets of chains and shackles, these ones crafted from korbitanium. He passed them to Ihuet. “I will fetch the little one and hold him. You put them on.”
“Are you certain?” Ihuet raised a skeptical brow.
Khafra smiled. “Yes. My days of underestimating the opponent are behind me.” He turned to Setnana. The smile faded. “I will need to be rough, so I ask for your approval, my nomarch.”
Though Setnana dreaded the idea, she understood the necessity. “Do as you must.”
Khafra nodded once and turned to the room. “Keep to either side of the door.” With those words, a thick, transparent, multifaceted surface crept down his face, his neck, the uncovered portion of his arms, and hands. Bloomglobe light reflected from the layer. He’d invoked his Diamond Hide.
The Battleguard sucked in a deep breath. Beneath his Diamond Hide, his skin bloomed to a brighter indigo. He strode across the room to Perihy, snatched the boy by his ankle, and even as Perihy’s eyes shot open and the boy flailed, Khafra dashed back to the door at several times his normal speed.
Khafra now held both of Perihy’s shins to one side of him outside the room, while blocking the doorway. Screaming, Perihy lashed out at Khafra’s back. But even if Perihy’s claws managed to pierce Khafra’s armor, they could not penetrate the Diamond Hide.
Ihuet shackled Perihy’s ankles. In one swift move, Khafra stepped through the doorway and into the corridor, dragging Perihy with him. Setnana let out a whimper and covered her mouth when Ihuet jabbed Perihy’s jaw with the butt of his staff, knocking the flailing boy unconscious. Ihuet chained Perihy’s wrists.
“Sorry, my nomarch.” Ihuet dipped his head to her.
She waved him off but did not speak, taking a moment to compose herself. Tears moistened her cheeks as she regarded her boy.
Perihy’s face was peaceful. If she looked hard enough, she could make out the Perihy she remembered despite the metallic skin and network of vibrant green and blue veins. Where his body had been emaciated while corrupted, and slim before the Gray Death, it was now rife with defined muscle.
Although his current state hurt, there was one change which affected her more than any other. His missing horns. They had been splendid, dark and curved, always polished to a shine. Now, two lumps protruded on either side of his head. His hair was growing back in, so perhaps it would hide the deficiency.
“My nomarch?” Ihuet’s tentative voice broke her from her thoughts.
She regarded him for a moment with wrinkled brows. Another few moments passed before she realized they awaited her instructions.
Gathering her thoughts, she nodded toward the carnage in the first room. “At lea
st my son saved us the trouble of having to kill them. We cannot afford any more surprises or waste time. Order guards to be placed outside the temple. Only people approved by myself or you are to enter.
“Have the hierkaneers cover the Engine, pack it up, and fly it to Modra’s Keep by simurgh. Khafra, you and the Sky Swords will escort it. Ihuet, you and I will travel by wagon with Perihy since no flying beast will accept him.
“I will also send word to Resena to clean up this place before the hierkaneers arrive. She should be done with the gargants by now.
“Come, bring Perihy into the room down the hall. I will wait there with him until you return with the wagon.”
The two Battleguards lifted Perihy gently and carried him to the room in question. As they left to do as she bid, Setnana activated her Comm Orb to pass more orders. When she was done, she settled in to wait, ready to cast Immobilize should Perihy wake and go into a frenzy.
Hours later, she and Ihuet rode in the lead wagon, well on their way south toward the Kaigake Desert and Modra’s Keep. Perihy’s wagon was behind hers. Every so often, she eased back the curtain and peeked out the window to make certain all was well.
Satisfied, she sat back and took a deep breath. All was going to plan at last. Two days would see them reach the keep.
A resounding boom rocked her wagon. She yanked the curtain aside. And gasped.
The wagon carrying Perihy was nothing more than smoldering bits of wood. The driver and the guards were strewn about the ground.
Perihy was sprinting across the grassy plains, an apparition of vibrant blue and green veins glowing in the night. Several Azureguard drake riders gave chase. Perihy vanished.
CHAPTER 4
The techs required two days to complete Dre’s prep. Each day, a tech would escort him to the logistics room and back home again. He wasn’t given a chance to leave the apartment to go anywhere else. If he tried, a guard waited outside to deny him.
Frustrated and worried about Blaze, he spent as much time as he could with his family. He’d play or watch Munsters and Minions with Kai. At others times, he’d watch movies with Mom, although they had to resort to the holo versions because Mom wanted no part of VR. He did manage to convince Mom to take a peek into VR when they watched Star Wars, Episode Twelve: Legacy of Jade. Smiling, he recalled how she’d almost jumped out of her skin. When not with Mom or Kai, he indulged in Hop-hop or soca music and surfing the Grid. On the third day, the techs took him toward the Total Immersion test room.
The Forsaken Crypts Page 4