The Hunter swallowed the acid rising to his throat. He stared down at the silent, still figure, so small and helpless. What had Hailen done to deserve such a fate? Worse, what could he do to forestall it?
"Take him back!" he said in a hoarse voice. "Please."
Master Eldor nodded. "Dasim will see to it."
The masked Elivasti stepped forward.
The Hunter interposed himself, hand dropping to Soulhunger's hilt.
"He can be trusted," Master Eldor said, resting a hand on the Hunter's arm.
"How can I trust a man who hides himself?" The Hunter glanced down at Hailen.
The man raised his mask, revealing a hard, scarred face, a square jaw, broad nose, and the violet eyes that marked him as Elivasti. "I will care for him as I would my own."
The Hunter searched Dasim's face. He removed his hand from Soulhunger and, with a nod, crouched to lift Hailen into his arms. The boy weighed so little—he'd hardly eaten during the weeks of travel from Al Hani. He seemed so frail, so fragile, he dared not let him go. But he had to. Hailen had to return to the enclosure, where he'd be safe from the Irrsinnon.
He passed the unconscious boy to Dasim. "If anything happens to him…"
Dasim nodded. "He will wake in his own bed."
The Hunter's eyes followed the Elivasti up the stairs and out the cellar door, never leaving the limp form nestled in Dasim's arms. A weight settled onto his shoulders. He'd always known Hailen was different. But since the Advanat and the standing stones, he'd caught himself stealing glances at Hailen, trying to catch sight of those unsettling violet eyes. Master Eldor's explanation of the Irrsinnon had connected the dots. What he'd seen now reinforced the truth he hadn't wanted to accept.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, he turned to Master Eldor. "So he truly is Elivasti?"
Master Eldor nodded. "The eyes don't lie. But it's more than that. He's weaker than other children, isn't he?"
The Hunter nodded. Hailen fatigued more quickly, and he lacked strength and coordination.
"The Serenii curse," the old Elivasti said, shaking his head. "Our ancestors were a people given to the pursuit of knowledge and sorcerous might, never the martial disciplines. Our children still bear the mark of their weakness—in mind and body."
"But your Elivasti aren't weak!" the Hunter insisted. "Or, at least the ones on the training field yesterday weren't."
Master Eldor chuckled. "The opia cleanses our minds, but it strengthens our bodies as well. As long as we do not stray too far from the shadow of the Serenii for too long, we are indistinguishable from humans in all ways but one."
"The eyes."
"Precisely." He placed a hand on the Hunter's shoulder. "I am sorry you had to witness that. I had hoped to spare you—"
"No." The Hunter's fists clenched. "It was necessary." The horror of seeing Hailen suffering reinforced the importance of his actions. He had to get the opia to cure the boy.
Sorrow lined the old Elivasti's face. "Take comfort in the knowledge that he will have no memory of what happened when he wakes. But it is best he remains in the enclosure for now."
"So be it. The Sage has given me permission to visit him."
Master Eldor stiffened. "You told him?"
"No." The Hunter was aware of Master Belros trying to look casual as he slid toward a rack of swords. "He told me."
The Elivasti's eyes narrowed. "He what?"
"According to him, the Warmaster had sent men to bring the boy from Kharan-cui, so he sent his men to grab the boy first. To keep him from the Warmaster's clutches, of course." He made no attempt to mask his sarcasm.
Master Eldor relaxed, and Master Belros' hand stopped inching toward a sword hilt.
"And you believe him?"
The Hunter shrugged. "He promised the boy would be safe." He gave a harsh chuckle. "The 'so long as you do what I ask' went unspoken."
Master Eldor's expression grew unreadable. "It is his way. A game of feints and ruses, drawing you deeper into his web until there is no escape. But I believe that with a few more days of training, we'll have you ready to do what you came here to do."
The Hunter stiffened. He forced himself not to react, but Master Eldor chuckled.
"You're not as enigmatic as you might believe, lad. Especially not for an old man who's spent his life learning to read people. Warriors who fail to understand their enemies rarely live long enough to grow old." He clapped the Hunter on the back. "Or their friends."
The sudden hammering of the Hunter's heart had nothing to do with his training. Could Master Eldor really know why he had come? If so, what would he do? One word to the Sage could put an end to the Hunter's plans now.
But if Master Eldor intended to betray him, why had he encouraged the Hunter to keep his knowledge of Hailen's presence a secret? The last time they'd spoken, the old Elivasti had hinted at desires that ran in line with the Hunter's own.
"From what I hear of your experiences in Voramis, you've no cause to love the Abiarazi." Master Eldor spoke in a slow, cautious tone, his voice quietly dangerous. "And now he has your boy."
The Hunter gave a noncommittal grunt.
"Perhaps you are inclined to do something about the problem." Master Eldor's expression was searching, with no hint of deceit in his gaze.
"And, for argument's sake, if I had come to Kara-ket for more than just answers about my past, would not your oath to the Sage put you in a difficult position? Knowing what you know."
Master Eldor frowned. "Our oath has its…limitations. Our fathers swore to serve all Abiarazi, regardless of our personal opinion. We must follow their commands without question or hesitation. We carry out their will on Einan. And, most important, we cannot raise a hand against them or harm them in any way. Directly."
The Hunter raised an eyebrow at the emphasis on the last word.
"But we cannot shield the Abiarazi from all harm. We live in a dangerous world of violence and chaos. If someone else killed our masters, we would not be in violation of our oaths." Master Eldor stroked his salt-and-pepper beard.
"Would it not contravene that oath if you help the one trying to kill your masters?"
"Certainly!" A smile played on Master Eldor's lips. "We could not possibly lend our aid to anyone seeking to do the Abiarazi harm. But there is no reason we cannot train our master's honored guest, or offer him a comfortable, secure route to make his exploration of our humble city more enjoyable. What he does with that knowledge is beyond our control."
Pieces fell into place. The secret route in and out of the Sage's temple. The clandestine meeting after dark in a cellar filled with racks of weapons.
He laughed. Oh, such delicious irony!
Master Eldor raised an eyebrow. "What's so amusing?"
"Earlier today, the Sage asked me to root out the Elivasti traitors plotting against him. I believe I just found them."
Chapter Thirty
The air in the room grew suddenly tense. Master Belros' huge fist closed around a sword hilt. Master Eldor coiled like a greatcat prepared to pounce, studying him through narrowed eyes.
The Hunter made no move toward a weapon. "Odd thing is, he told me the Warmaster was the one behind the conspiracy. From your words, it seems quite clear that you're not fond of either of the Abiarazi sitting in their temples."
"The Warmaster?" Master Belros snorted. "I'd just as soon kiss a viper as serve him."
Master Eldor's expression made his sentiments toward the larger demon plain. "The Sage is ever clever with his words. He deals in half-truths, twisting things to suit his will."
"As I expected." The Hunter crossed his arms. "Which is precisely why I said nothing to him about our meeting tonight."
Both Elivasti relaxed a fraction.
"And why he'll be glad to know I had a wonderful night of rest in my bed." He gave a theatrical yawn. "The temple really does help a fellow sleep."
Master Eldor nodded, the tension in his face draining away.
Master Belros,
however, didn't lower his sword. "You say you came here for the Sage, and you expect us to believe you won't tell him everything the minute you get out of here?"
Master Eldor placed a hand on the huge blacksmith's arm. "Trust me, Belros. He has as much reason to distrust us as we do him."
"So why should we trust him?" Master Belros stepped forward, his bulk menacing in the cramped cellar. "Why not just run him through and bury the body? No one'll ever find it."
The Hunter stared up into the smith's violet eyes without concern. "Because that sword will hurt, but not much more." He lowered his voice. "And because, before you've put a foot of steel in me, Soulhunger will devour your very soul."
Master Belros stared down at his chest, where the Hunter pressed Soulhunger's tip with just enough force to emphasize his threat.
"I watched you train, boy," Master Belros snarled. "You're good, but not good enough to take the both of us. I'll gladly die to keep this a secret. Are you willing to die for your master?"
"Belros, peace!" Master Eldor's voice cracked like a whip.
The smith glanced at the blademaster. Master Eldor spoke in a cold, quiet voice. "You're threatening the only person in Shana Laal capable of dealing with our problems. Both of them."
The Hunter smiled. "Look around you, Belros. You've enough steel to arm your men, but steel won't do much to slow to the Warmaster or Sage. To eliminate them, you need iron." He snorted. "And not the little bit banding the tips of your staves." That much iron could kill him, flooding his body with the poison, but not the demons. "You need swords and spears, something with an edge that you can stick into them."
The Swordsman's blades, made of purest iron, lay wrapped in his pack in his rooms. They would kill a demon as surely as Soulhunger, but only when used together. One to slow the Abiarazi's natural healing, the other to sever their heads or pierce their hearts.
"The Sage controls the flow of iron into Kara-ket," Master Belros snarled.
Master Eldor stepped closer. "We stockpiled these weapons to protect against the Masters of Agony. But you're right." He shook his head. "We can't do it. You can."
Master Belros relented under Master Eldor's glare. He backed off but didn't replace the sword in its rack.
"Like you, I have a very personal reason for wanting to kill off every last Abiarazi on Einan." The Hunter sheathed Soulhunger. "You want to be free of your servitude. So do I."
Master Belros growled. "I don't see chains on your wrists."
"The bonds of blood are no less enslaving than steel manacles."
"Bonds of blood?" Master Belros rumbled. "What are you—?"
"The eyes, Belros," Master Eldor said, his voice quiet. "They mark him much as our eyes do."
"Yours belong to the Serenii, while mine are the heritage of a much crueler progenitor." The Hunter returned the smith's glare with equal force. "The only difference is that I'm in a position where I actually intend to do something about it. I'm bound by no oaths, though the demons would have me in their thrall. I serve no master—not man, Abiarazi, or god."
Master Belros said nothing, his gaze fixed firmly on the Hunter.
"Enough now, Belros," Master Eldor spoke in an exasperated tone. "Put that sword away before you do something foolish and we're cleaning your blood off the cellar floor."
The Hunter couldn't help a grin. His training with Master Eldor had taught him respect for the lithe, lean blademaster. The huge blacksmith would be another matter entirely. Belros moved with the power and force of his heavy musculature, but without iron, he'd be no match for the Hunter's speed.
Master Eldor watched as Master Belros replaced the sword on its rack, then turned back to the Hunter. "You say you intend to do something about our masters. You know, by the terms of our oaths, we are sworn to stop you."
"Perhaps, but only if you know what I intend to do. Surely you can't be blamed if your men are caught off guard by a wily assassin who puts a dagger into the Sage before they can stop him."
Master Eldor inclined his head. "Our oaths demand us to protect and serve, but we are blameless so long as we do not break faith."
"Though judging by the looks of this room, you were preparing for something." The Hunter glanced at the rows of weapons on the shelves. "You might not be able to take up arms directly, but even the most downtrodden of slave will seek an opportunity to throw off their shackles."
Master Eldor's expression grew grim. "You are right." He sat heavily on an overturned bucket. "The Sage keeps a close watch on the weapons produced in Master Belros' forge. It is only after years of subterfuge that we are able to stockpile even this many. Barely enough to arm a quarter of the Elivasti in residence here."
"But against what eventuality? What was the plan?"
The old Elivasti shook his head. "No plan. Just a hope." His face looked suddenly a decade older, the lines worn deeper. "For millennia, the Elivasti have been forced to serve the Abiarazi. We are the messengers of their wanton cruelty, delivering death and destruction in their name. Once, we feared being destroyed by the Serenii wishing to wipe away what they considered to be a stain on their world. We chose the lesser of two evils. If only our ancestors had known the truth of what they did."
When Master Eldor looked up, tears shone in his eyes. "We have watched our children suffer the Irrsinnon because the Abiarazi control the only two strongholds on Einan where the opia grows."
Two? The Hunter wanted to ask, but Master Eldor plowed on.
"With every life taken, every drop of blood spilled in the name of the Abiarazi's power on this world, our shame grew. There are those among us who have had enough. We see past the Sage's empty promises, the Warmaster's boasts that we will conquer the world. Some of us have had our lust for battle and glory tempered by age and hard experience. We can see the truth of what the demons offer: not glorious death, but simply…death. The Elivasti would vanish from Einan as our ancestors did."
"And we'll be damned if we let that happens!" Master Belros clenched a huge fist.
Master Eldor nodded. "Our oaths prevent us from turning on our masters, but they do not stop us from preparing for the day when someone else stands up to them." The old Elivasti stood and strode toward the Hunter. "The day when you stand up to them."
The Hunter raised an eyebrow. "It almost sounds like you've been expecting me. Like some messiah to free you from captivity." He snarled. "I'm no savior."
"No, you're an assassin." Master Eldor gave him a cold smile. "A killer. More than that, a killer of demons."
This caught the Hunter by surprise. How do they know that?
"Oh yes," Master Eldor said, nodding. "We know of what you did in Voramis to the Bloody Hand and their Abiarazi masters. We serve as the Sage's eyes and ears around Einan, ever lurking in the shadows, carrying out our master's bidding. We knew whose hand wielded the blade of destruction."
A sense of unease filled the Hunter. This was how the Sage knew of his actions in Voramis. But how much more do they know? About Malandria, or Al Hani?
"You escaped us when you fled Voramis. It was only by good fortune—both ours and yours—that our brothers and sisters found you wandering the Chasm of the Lost. They saved you from death in the hope that you would be the one to free us from our bondage." Master Eldor gave him a wry grin. "As you say, an assassin, and who better to kill a demon?"
The Hunter had pondered what seemed an impossible encounter with the Elivasti in the Chasm of the Lost. He would have died had they not treated his wounds and given him food and shelter. But they hadn't spoken until the day he departed, and only then given him one word: Elivasti. It meant nothing to him at the time, but the word had helped to unlock the memory of Master Eldor and Kara-ket. A coincidence?
"But that was months ago. As you said, you've been stockpiling these weapons for years."
Master Eldor shrugged. "You are right in that. We've had decades to prepare. Only we didn't know who we were preparing for." He gripped the Hunter's shoulder. "Now we do."
&
nbsp; "These weapons would be very handy if you were in a position to use them." The Hunter slipped out of Master Eldor's grip. "Unfortunately, that little oath of yours prevents you from raising a hand against the demons."
The Elivasti inclined his head. "Indeed, but there is nothing in our oath that prevents us from wiping out the Masters of Agony. The Warmaster will never tire of his games of torment, but he has set his sights on Einan. He is turning his men into warriors as well as torturers. When the day comes that he unleashes them upon this world, I shudder to think of what will happen to those poor souls unfortunate to fall into their hands."
The Hunter had seen the depictions of wartime cruelties: men impaled on stakes, flayed and crucified, or chained to posts and tortured to death. The Warmaster would bring untold horrors to Einan in the name of conquest.
"Without the Masters of Agony, the Warmaster is just one Abiarazi. Formidable in his own right, but not impossible to eliminate. Not for the legendary assassin of Voramis."
The Hunter snorted. "Flattering words, but about as useful as a flaccid cock in a knife fight."
Master Belros stifled a chuckle. Master Eldor didn't seem amused. "I have dedicated my life to training the Elivasti, making them into a fighting force capable of surviving terrible odds."
"And let me guess, you want me to lead them into battle?" The Hunter rolled his eyes. "I've heard this pitch before."
"You?" Master Eldor looked pained. "Keeper forfend! You're an assassin, not a commander of men."
The Hunter actually found himself about to protest. In a former life, he had been Nasnaz the Great, mightiest general and conqueror of Al Hani. He caught himself. He had no desire to lead armies—he wanted nothing more than to find his mystery woman and keep Hailen safe. His quest to eradicate the demons was simply him doing what had to be done.
"We don't want to be an army. We want to be our own people, to live free, with no man or demon to tell us what to do." Master Eldor's jaw tightened. "We've had enough of masters for an eternity. Without the Abiarazi, we would have the lives we were created to. But for that to happen, the Abiarazi must be eliminated."
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