by Ben Hale
Her eyes widened. “You think Draeken turned on Serak?”
“If he did, it would mean Serak might help us,” he said. “If he’s not dead, that is.”
Elenyr’s gaze turned calculating, and for several moments she stared at the keep like it held all the answers she sought. Then she nodded to herself and motioned to that direction.
“We should see if he is alive.”
Shadow frowned. “I just hid on the underbelly of a dragon as they flew across an entire country—all while dropping signals for you to follow.” Shadow folded his arms. “A little gratitude would be in order.”
Elenyr sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Thank you, Shadow. I’m sure that was difficult.”
“It was epic,” Shadow breathed. “They could have noticed me at any moment, but Gorewrathian is so big, he didn’t see me clinging to the shadows under his wing.”
“I’m proud of you,” she said. “Now don’t ever do that again.”
“No promises.”
She regarded him with irritation, and then laughed sourly. “I suppose it is your greatest gift.”
“That and inciting anger,” Shadow said.
“That too,” Elenyr replied.
The pair turned off the road and advanced up the street towards the fortress, detouring around a pond with various pieces of broken armor rusting on its banks. A pedestal at the center was empty, but the green water rippled and the top of a gigantic alligator head briefly surfaced. Shadow pointed to the pond, where he’d swum in his youth, but Elenyr jerked her head.
“You no longer possess a piece of the fragment of Power,” she said. “I’m not sure you would survive against the guardians of these ruins.”
He rolled his eyes but softened his footsteps so they could enter the keep. He took a peek at the rock troll statue, wishing he could fight it again. Instead of weapons, the rock troll guardian had gauntlets of spiked chain, weapons meant to damage and maim.
“Next time,” Shadow murmured, and followed Elenyr up into the fortress.
“What are the others doing?” he asked.
“I sent Sentara, Rune, and Lorica to join the alliance,” Elenyr said. “They couldn’t keep up with me, and I didn’t want them to be discovered while we are away. Rune is still adapting to the companionship of the Unnamed, and her actions can be chaotic.”
Her words were faint, as if she were pondering the revelations Shadow had shared. Then he realized it was caution, and Elenyr pressed into the wall, advancing in silence up through the fortress.
“You think it’s a trap?” Shadow asked in a normal voice.
She paused to roll her eyes. “How can you be so good at infiltration, and so terrible at the same time.”
“I think Serak is dead,” he said with a shrug.
“You just hope he’s dead,” she hissed. “Don’t forget this could be a trap.”
“Then you escape through the wall and I fade to shadow and depart.” He shrugged like it was easy. “It’s not like they can stop us.”
“Serak has already trapped you twice,” she said. “I don’t think you’ll survive a third imprisonment.”
He frowned, but could not refute her logic. The pair gradually searched the keep, working their way up through the structure. As they approached the final corridor, the one containing Guildmaster Elsin’s private office, Shadow pointed ahead.
“You really think Draeken left him alive?”
“Draeken has separated from you,” she said. “But I believe he still retains a measure of personality from all the fragments. From Mind he gained ambition, from Fire he gained arrogance. From you, he obviously acquired recklessness.”
“Hey!”
She smiled and patted him on the shoulder. “We both know it’s the truth.”
He grinned. “It’s true. But why would he not kill Serak?”
“Because Serak helped create him,” she said. “And the fragment of Light was ever loyal. For Draeken to kill Serak would require a ruthless lack of loyalty, and none of the fragments possessed such a trait.”
“Perhaps that trait belonged to Draeken,” Shadow reasoned. “We have both seen what he has done.”
“We have.”
Shadow heard the wealth of regret in the woman’s voice and stepped in front of her. “You feel like you failed him, don’t you.”
She held his gaze. “How could I not? I raised the fragments. All six of them.”
“You cannot save those who do not wish to be saved,” he said.
“I know.” She looked away, the anguish on her face. “But you were all my sons. I hoped that by teaching you five, Draeken would learn to overcome his darker impulses.”
“It is because of you that five fragments survived,” he said.
Moisture collected in her eyes and she wiped at the tears. “You’re kinder than you used to be,” she said.
He cursed. “Blasted remorse.”
She laughed and leaned in to kiss him on the forehead. “You have my gratitude.”
The bellow caused them both to turn. Muffled by distance and stone, the sound was nevertheless filled with anguish, the sound of a broken man. They exchanged a look and advanced to the door of Elsin’s private quarters. There the stone trembled, a vibration as if someone nearby sought to shift the very mountain.
“I don’t think it’s a trap,” Shadow said.
“At least not for us,” she mused.
“You think Draeken trapped Serak?” Shadow whistled in appreciation. “That’s brutal, after everything Serak did for him.”
“You saw Serak after the battle at Xshaltheria,” she drifted into the room. “He looked on in horror. I don’t think he ever intended to unleash the fiends on the alliance. Surround them and show his might, yes. Intimidate them into submission, yes. But slaughter?” She shook her head. “That’s never been his goal.”
“That doesn’t mean he’s going to help us,” Shadow said.
He found himself apprehensive about approaching Serak. If Elenyr was right, Serak had just been betrayed and probably imprisoned. He would be violent and angry, and unpredictable, perhaps even try to kill Elenyr in retribution.
At the same time, Shadow could not deny the appeal of speaking to Serak. The man had built the Dark Gate, created the cloaks that had forged the four generals, and knew the most about the fiends of Kelindor. If anyone possessed knowledge of how to stop Draeken, it would be him. If he would help.
Shadow caught Elenyr’s arm, and when he turned back, he shook his head. “I’ll talk to him.”
She slowly removed his fingers and turned to face him, offering a faint smile. “Not this time, my son. I’m not risking your life, even for this.”
“But he’s tried to kill you,” Shadow protested.
“And failed,” she replied. “Besides, I am the Hauntress, and his magic cannot harm me.”
She reached up and lifted her cowl, her body turning ethereal, green smoke cascading off her skin. She smiled at Shadow and then turned and passed through the secret door into the corridor beyond. Shadow leapt to the door and caught the latch, but a dull clanking suggested Elenyr had locked it from within. She was alone. With the Father of Guardians that had sought her life. Shadow grunted in irritation and raced from the room, hoping to find another entrance to the chamber.
Chapter 28: Serak’s Secret
Elenyr advanced down the corridor, wary of another trap. In her ethereal form very little could harm her, but Serak had proven cunning enough to exploit her weaknesses. He’d also failed three times, and this might be a changing of tactics. But it was worth the risk.
She slowed as she approached the end of the corridor, where the tunnel opened into a large cavern, the cavern where Draeken had been torn from the body of a young child. She drew her sword and came to a halt on the threshold.
Light orbs circled the room, illuminating the enormous source of water at the center. She fully expected to find a small army arrayed against her, bearing blades of lightning, and a wall o
f lightning closing off her escape. But there was only Serak, on his knees.
The Father of Guardians knelt on the hard stone, staring into his hands. They trembled, but with fury or grief she could not tell. Then Elenyr noticed a nearly invisible chain extending from his body to the source of water.
Her eyes widened as she understood. Guardians were either chained to a source, or left unchained. Chained guardians were more powerful and stable, while those on their own were usually quick to fall to madness. Serak and Draeken were exceptions to that rule, their power greater than their chained cousins. Yet here Serak was, shackled.
“Have you come to gloat?”
Serak spoke in a whisper, the voice of a broken man. Elenyr did not advance, her eyes searching the room. Even now, after all Serak had done, she remained wary. But there was nothing, only Serak chained in a way that even Elenyr could not break.
“I cannot blame you for your caution,” Serak said. “But you have won, and my creation has turned against me.”
“I have hardly won.”
He gathered the chain and stood, thrusting it towards her. “You don’t call this a victory? Here I am, caged like a beast. I sacrificed for ages, and this is my reward.”
His voice turned savage, his chest heaving, his eyes sparking with rage. The stone floor trembled and crackled, and the water source roiled, turning white as it churned. But Serak’s rage departed as quickly as it had appeared, and he grimaced.
“Where did I err?” he whispered. “I planned for every contingency, every possible turn of events. But never this.”
“We made the same mistake,” Elenyr said. “We both thought Draeken could be tamed.”
His eyes snapped to her. “You.” The word was like gravel from his teeth. “It’s your fault the fragment of Mind pushed Draeken out.” He advanced upon Elenyr, his features contorting. “I planned on a Draeken with the fragments intact. He was supposed to retain the influence you had created. Instead my master was left alone.”
Serak reached out and clenched a fist. The walls of the corridor smashed together. Unharmed, Elenyr remained in place, the stone passing through her ethereal form. Serak opened his fist and the walls opened—before smashing together again, and then again. The Father of Guardians screamed as he sought to destroy Elenyr, the very mountain quaking as he feverishly crushed the corridor.
Elenyr didn’t move as the stone turned to spikes that pierced and shattered through her body, only to reform and attempt to crush her anew. His chest heaving, Serak brought his hands together, cleaving the ceiling apart and pummeling Elenyr, the stones grinding through her, cracking and parting from the pressure. Then he collapsed to his knees with a roar of primal rage.
“YOU STOLE MY VICTORY!”
Elenyr took a single step out of the blocked tunnel. “You sought to kill my sons.”
Her voice was cold, and she turned her sword outward. Serak’s eyes lifted to the blade, and the pain in his gaze elicited a measure of pity. But not enough to spare Serak’s life. Not after what he’d done.
“So you’re here to kill me?” he asked.
“I am, but I’d rather have your help.”
Serak released a rancid bark of laughter. “You think I would help you? I’d rather die.”
“I think you would rather see Draeken destroyed,” she said quietly.
“HE IS MY CREATION!” Serak charged to the end of his chain, his face just inches from hers. But he did not reach for her again. His eyes blazed, his chest heaved, but his expression conveyed an ache.
“He is going to destroy everything,” Elenyr countered.
“Then kill me,” he sneered. “Do what you have sought since the moment we met.”
“No.”
“Draeken would have killed your sons,” he snarled. “I would have caused their end.”
“Dying will not end what you have begun.”
He stared at her, the anger gradually melting from his features, to be replaced by shame. He turned away and took several steps, his trembling fingers rising to his face. His shoulders hunched, he spoke without turning.
“You helped kill my beloved Elsin,” he whispered. “You destroyed her attempt to protect Lumineia, and now you come to destroy mine.”
“Draeken has destroyed your plan,” Elenyr said. “I would have, given the chance, but Draeken has always been the foe you did not see. Even if he possessed my fragments inside, the darkness of his soul would not be suppressed.”
Serak shook his head, but his silence spoke volumes. Serak could not disagree with her statement because he’d seen the truth with his own eyes. He’d failed, and to his utmost shame, his creation would use his plan to destroy everything Serak had wanted to protect.
“I have hated you for ages,” Serak ground the words out. “Hated you for what you did to my Elsin, and the guild of Verinai. I will not help you.”
“Then your shame will last an eternity,” she said.
He finally turned and met her gaze. His eyes were hollow, his features shattered with guilt. Anger could not hide the truth, that by bringing Draeken into being, Serak would be the destroyer of Lumineia.
Elenyr’s features hardened as she advanced to him. “Draeken will obliterate the kingdoms. He will kill the people, slaughter soldiers and innocents until nothing remains but his fiends and his slaves. This free world—the only free world in the Krey Empire—will be left desolate.”
He retreated from her ethereal form, wincing at her words. She did not relent, her voice rising as she proclaimed his guilt, laid bare his greatest failure, and with every word Serak stumbled away.
“You will be known as the creator of this holocaust,” she said, “and until my dying day, I will make certain the people know how you created Draeken, and all of the blood on his hands—will be on your hands. I will erect monuments and pillars with the tale, I will write it on walls of stone and paper, in books and in memory. And if Draeken destroys them all, I will invite the Krey Empire to Lumineia, and help them destroy Draeken and his army of fiends. Then your failure will be remembered in the Empire, and your shame will be eternal.”
Serak retreated and reached to the stone, the floor rising into spikes. But this time they were pointed at himself. She turned corporeal and slashed the spikes, shredding them as quickly as they formed. Serak bellowed and tried all the harder.
“Let me die!”
“Your shame will remain!”
She slashed her sword through the last spikes and no more appeared. Tears formed in Serak’s eyes, spilling down his cheeks and staining his tunic. He reached his hands out to her sword and gently placed it on his throat.
“Please,” he pleaded. “Please remove my shame.”
Elenyr withdrew her sword and shook her head. “Shame is not removed by the sword,” she said.
He swallowed and wiped at his face. The conflict passed through his features, the muscles contracting and releasing, his lips trembling as if in pain. Helping Elenyr went against everything he’d built, but it was his only chance of repairing the damage of his failure. His shoulders slumped . . . and he spoke in a whisper.
“Two thousand years ago, I opened the Dark Gate myself. The Dark of Kelindor entered Lumineia, nearly consuming me. It did kill my four lieutenants in the room.”
“That’s where you got the cloaks for Draeken’s generals,” Elenyr said.
He nodded. “The Dark is a power of its own, and I managed to insert my will upon the cloaks, turning them to my command.”
“Why did Mimic not die in the acid?” she asked. Serak’s jaw worked but no words came out, and she advanced a step, her voice hardening as she repeated, “Why did Mimic not die?”
“Because I built a contingency into the Dark Gate,” he finally said. “I linked the four generals to the Gate, so if they perished, they would merely be Gated back to Kelindor.”
“Only the generals?”
He grimaced and refused to meet her gaze. When he spoke, his voice was hollow. “After the battl
e in the valley, I feared what Draeken would do, so when I rebuilt the Dark Gate, I ensured the same magic will attach to anything that passes through the portal.”
“How does this contingency work?” she pressed.
“The krey control the Gate energy through machines,” he said. “But it is an energy like any other, and that means it is magic—magic that can be manipulated by mind mages.”
“Like my son,” Elenyr said.
Serak nodded in agreement. “Zoric unknowingly created a web of Gate energy across the Gate, so anything that passed through it would be linked to it. Every fiend that enters Lumineia will be leashed to the Dark Gate. If the portal is closed, they will be drawn back to Kelindor.”
It was the truth she’d sought for, the secret that gave them a chance at victory. It seemed so simple, destroy the Gate and the army would disappear. A spark of hope kindled in Elenyr’s chest.
“So closing the Gate will draw the generals back through as well?” she asked.
Serak shook his head. “Their link is only partial. If the Gate is closed before the generals return, they will remain on Lumineia. You must kill them before you close the Gate.”
“How do I kill them?”
Serak shook his head. “An opposite magic will kill them for good, but any normal death will simply push them back through the Gate.”
Elenyr saw the path to victory form in her mind. Tenuous and dangerous, she imagined killing the four generals, and then shutting the Dark Gate. Permanently. If they did it right, the Draeken War would be over.
“Does Draeken know about this?” she asked.
Serak held her gaze. “No.”
“And Zoric?”
“I told him it was part of the function of a Gate,” he said. “None but you and I know this secret.”
“Then I will use it to stop him,” she said.
He reached a hand to the broken entrance corridor and the stones shifted and lifted, reforming the exit. She could have departed with ease as the Hauntress, but she recognized the gesture for what it was, an act of trust.
“Please, Elenyr,” he pleaded. “Please, remove my shame.”