"That's good, Hailen. You have to stay far away, no matter what."
"I will. I promise." He clenched his little fists. "Even if they make fun of me, I won't go near them. I don't like that place anyways. It's spooky."
The Hunter chuckled. "Yes, it is. Even for me."
Hailen's eyes widened. "Really? But I thought nothing scared you!"
Once, the Hunter had believed that to be true. Yet he'd felt fear as Farida's life slipped away, as the demon Toramin plunged the dagger into Bardin's chest. The dread had been very real as Il Seytani held the blade to Hailen's throat. The thought of losing his memories to the Illusionist Cleric's ritual had terrified him almost as much as the Warmaster's torments.
He shrugged. "Everyone is afraid sometimes."
The boy's expression turned serious. His eyes took on a faraway look, as if he pondered the Hunter's words.
"Hailen, I need to tell you something, but you can't tell anyone else."
Curiosity furrowed Hailen's brow. "What is it?"
"Promise you won't say a word to anyone. Not to your friends, not to Master Eldor, no one!"
"I promise."
"We're going to be leaving soon," he whispered. "I will come for you, and we'll leave together."
Hailen's expression fell. "But I don't want to leave. I like it here. I have friends, and Master Eldor is teaching me to—"
"I know you like it here, Hailen. I want to stay, but it's not going to be safe."
"Because you're going to kill someone?"
The Hunter jerked back, surprised. "What makes you say that?"
"It's what you did when that mean bandit hurt me, Eileen, and the others. You killed the nasty face who tried to make Father Pietus hurt me." He pointed to the sword on the Hunter's belt. "It's why you carry that, right?"
The Hunter's jaw dropped. He'd tried to hide his true nature from the boy as much as possible. He had sent Hailen away before gutting the pederast Marin, had told the boy to close his eyes as he carved his way free of the bandit's camp. But the boy knew.
He nodded, slowly. "Yes."
"Why?" Hailen cocked his head, confusion clouding his eyes. "No one here is going to hurt me. Did someone hurt you?"
Memories of the torments he'd endured at the Warmaster's hands sent a shiver down his spine. "Yes. But that's not the only reason why."
"Why, then? Why do you have to kill them if it means we have to leave?"
How could he understand? His world is so small, so simple. How could he begin to grasp what would happen if the Abiarazi were allowed to rule Einan?
"If I don't, a lot of people will get hurt."
Hailen scrunched up his nose in concentration. "So you're doing it to protect people? Like you killed the bandits to protect me?"
The Hunter nodded.
Hailen seemed to think about this for a moment, then nodded. "I'll be ready when you come for me."
"Good." He tousled the boy's hair. "Now go, have fun with your friends. Those mud pies aren't going to make themselves."
"Mud pies?" Hailen looked offended. "It's a castle! Mud pies are for babies."
"Of course. Silly me, I should have known that."
"Want to see it?"
The Hunter glanced at the sky. Sunset was not far off. "Just for a moment. I have to meet someone."
Something high overhead caught his attention. A solitary figure stood on a balcony level with the bridge spanning the temples. With a sinking feeling in his gut, he realized the Sage was watching him.
Chapter Forty-Five
The Hunter stepped onto the balcony beside the Sage. The Abiarazi stood facing the setting sun, hands resting on the railing. He raised a finger before the Hunter could speak. "Just watch," he said in a low voice.
The Hunter shielded his eyes from the brilliance of the sunset. Bold pinks and reds painted the sky, mixing with solemn purple and shimmering rays of gold. The fading daylight bathed the few wisps of clouds in color. Shadows covered the Hrandari Plains below, making the blue-green of Kara-ket even more luminous by comparison.
A gentle breeze whispered across the balcony—cool enough to drive away any remaining traces of the day's heat, yet without the bitter chill of darkness. The wind carried away the reek of rot emanating from the demon beside him. Only the fresh, crisp scents of clean snow, earth, and stone filled the Hunter's nostrils.
The Sage sighed. "Even after all this time, I haven't gotten used to the silence."
The Hunter raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.
"The wind, Hunter. My world is a blasted place, with winds strong enough to slice a man to the bone. No doubt you would find the shrieking and howling discomforting. But for those of my kind born there, the absence of sound seems eerie." He turned to the Hunter with a sad smile. "No place like home, is there?"
The Hunter shrugged. "I wouldn't know."
Something akin to sorrow gleamed the Sage's obsidian eyes. He turned back to the railing and stared down at the enclosure. "Watching you with him, it reminded me of…of something."
Once again, the Hunter remained silent. The Sage would speak in his own time.
A full minute elapsed without a word. When the Sage finally broke his silence, he spoke in a slow, quiet voice. "Tomorrow night, we make our move against the Warmaster. You have promised your loyalty to me once he is dead." The demon turned to the Hunter, his eyes unblinking, his gaze intense. "Know I do not take your allegiance lightly. You are no mere servant; you are an ally, an equal. For that to be true, you must know more about my plans—our plans—for the future of Einan."
The Sage paused before continuing. "But first you must understand the reasons why I do what I do. To a human, my actions would be perceived as inhumane, intentionally cruel and heartless, evil even." He snorted. "Humans and their pitiful morality! Though they decry a thing as evil, in their hearts, they would do the same thing given a chance. They sit in judgment, proclaim something to be 'good' or 'bad', as if those two concepts actually existed." Fire tinged the void in his eyes. "Good and evil do not exist, Hunter. There is only desire, and what you will do to achieve it. That is something you, a Bucelarii, descendant of the great Abiarazi, understand."
The Hunter nodded. He'd seen men and women do terrible things in the name of power, greed, or lust. He knew full well what humans—and demons—were capable of.
"Do you know why I am standing here, Hunter? Why I came out here?"
The Hunter shook his head.
"Out here, atop the bridge, alone with the wind, I am almost home." He pointed to the setting sun. "It is like my sky—a brilliant, almost angry red, not the insipid blue of this world. As the wind grows louder, the memories of what I have lost return. I remember the time spent with my…my family."
The Hunter started. What?
Queen Asalah had spoken of her world—a frozen, barren wasteland, she'd called it. The Sage came from a world twisted by wind. That was surprising in itself—surely they come from the same world! But most shocking of all was the Sage's mention of his family. None of the other Abiarazi had mentioned anything about friends, relatives, or loved ones on their world. It had never occurred to him to think of it. He'd always considered them demons—less than human.
Yet here the Sage spoke of family with the same sorrow that filled the Hunter when he thought of Farida or Bardin. It seemed so…human.
"What happened to them?"
The Sage shook his head. "I do not know. Thousands of years have passed since I left them behind. Only the greatest of the Abiarazi warriors came to this world. The rest remained, to continue scratching out an existence on our world until such a time as we completed our conquest of Einan and summoned them to our sides."
"Which never happened."
"When the accursed gods of this world intervened, all hope of bringing them here faded. We were dispersed, forced to skulk like rodents in the shadows. Our defeat reduced us to little more than husks of our former selves, wielding a fraction of the power that once coursed through
our veins." The Sage bared his teeth in a vicious smile. "Until now."
The Hunter had a memory of Voramis. Somehow, the First had found a way to rip open a portal into a world of flame and ash. Had the Sage done the same? He steeled his expression. "What do you mean?"
The Abiarazi fixed him with that eerie, burning stare. "With the Warmaster's death, events will be set into motion that will soon allow me to open a portal to my world."
Set into motion? The Hunter's mind plucked at the threads of information he'd gleaned about the Sage. Surely the demon would have seized power if he'd had the chance. Could this mean he doesn't yet have a way?
The intensity in the Sage's expression diminished, and he smiled. "I can see by your expression that you grow tired of the riddles and enigma. Look down there, Hunter." The Sage pointed to the enclosure. "Look at your boy, and understand."
"Understand what?"
"What you would do for family. What you would do for him."
The Hunter followed the Sage's pointing finger. Far below, a group of children played in the streets. Hailen was somewhere among them. What would he be willing to do to protect the boy? He met the Sage's gaze. "Anything."
"Then we are in accord." The unblinking stare remained fixed on his face. "When first you awoke today, I was skeptical. I had feared you broken by the Warmaster's torments. Two days of such…agony can seem like an eternity. Every man—every Bucelarii—has their limits of endurance." His eyes took on a faraway look, as if he relived a horrible memory. "I have little doubt he tried to convince you to join him, to take up arms against me. And yet, the fact that he kept your blade is proof you did not agree. Tell me, why did you refuse him? Would it not have been easier to accept and put an end to the suffering?"
The Hunter nodded. "Easier, certainly. But the reason I refused is simple: I do not trust him. I do not believe he will keep his word. He seeks only to use me to further his ends. A man—or Abiarazi—like that is one I will never swear my loyalty to."
"And you believe I will honor my word?"
"Here I stand. What else is there to say?"
For a heartbeat, triumph flashed in the demon's midnight eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it had come. He nodded, his face somber. "Truly, you have made the right choice." He rested a hand on the Hunter's shoulder. "When I look at you, I see you remain unbroken. His attempt failed. You have proven your true strength, proven yourself a worthy ally. We will achieve great things, you and I."
"But what will we achieve?" The Hunter folded his arms. "You have told me nothing beyond the immediate future. How can I help you if I am kept in the dark?"
"You speak the truth." The Sage nodded. "It is time you know everything. Follow me."
The Hunter fell in step behind the Sage, who led him through the lavish bedroom and into the antechamber. The two Elivasti guards snapped to attention as they entered.
"Where are we going?"
The Sage gave no indication he'd heard. The Elivasti could have been made of stone for all the response they gave. The Hunter's heart leapt as the Abiarazi led him toward the door to his office.
"In here." Without hesitation, the Sage strode toward the plain-looking Nizaa set on the shelf and reached for the Beggar God piece. It clicked when he pressed it, and the shelf slid aside, revealing a plain stone passage beyond.
The Hunter didn't have to pretend surprise. Thanks to Master Eldor, he'd known of the passage's existence, and guessed it ended at the level of the Sage's rooms. The surprise was that he'd come so close to discovering it on his own.
"This is a secret known to few, Hunter. Proof that we can trust each other."
The walls of the staircase brightened as one of the Sage's guards entered. The Hunter fell in step beside the Sage, with the other Elivasti in the rear. A few dozen paces down the passage, they came upon the spiral stairs.
The Hunter descended in step with the Sage, hope surging in his chest. Could he be taking me to his hidden room?
The Hunter gave up trying to count the steps as they descended. Instead, he found his gaze drawn to the walls. The soft glow illuminated the markings etched into the stone—identical to the symbols he'd seen beneath Voramis and again in Malandria. He ran his hands across the carvings. "Do you know what's written here?"
"Genealogies of the Serenii." The Sage rolled his eyes. "As if anyone cares who begat who."
For a moment, he almost recognized some of the symbols. Their meaning skirted the edges of his mind—ever just out of reach, infuriating him with their closeness. They tugged at something in the back of his mind, but whatever it was refused to break free.
The tantalizing thread drifted away, and once again the carvings became the alien, unrecognizable handiwork of the ancient Serenii. With a frustrated grunt, the Hunter hurried after the Sage.
They reached a landing, and the Sage stepped off the staircase. A wide passage led away from the stairs, terminating in a door a short distance away—the same door he'd tried to enter a few nights before. The Hunter kept his face a mask of calm to hide his excitement as the Sage drew a key from a chain around his neck and inserted it into the lock. With a loud click, the door swung open. The Hunter stepped through a heartbeat behind the Sage.
Light flooded the room as he entered. His muscles tensed in anticipation of an attack, but none came. The only sound came from the shuffling of the Sage's slippers on the stone floor.
"Welcome to the War Room, Hunter."
Half a dozen curious-looking lamps hung from the walls. They looked like transparent gemstones of immense worth—similar to the one set in Soulhunger's hilt—and radiated enough light to brighten the small space. The unadorned stone walls looked stark and grim by comparison.
Straight-backed seats of granite lined the walls of the chamber. A massive round table stood at the heart of the room. Carved from a single block of marble, it occupied a full two-thirds of the space. Its surface was pitted and ridged in a curious pattern. Closer inspection revealed this to be no flaw of workmanship.
The Hunter's jaw dropped. It's a map of Einan!
The topographical details of the map were near perfect, down to the white islands across the Frozen Sea—the only land discovered beyond the shores of Einan. Sailors had tried to cross the unbroken water encircling the world; those who returned had spoken only of endless ocean. Yet the enormous land mass of Einan was represented in stunning detail. The towering peaks of the Yathi Mountains. The rolling dunes of the Advanat Desert. The gaping tear in the ground that was the Chasm of the Lost.
He turned to the Sage. "How is this possible? Did you…?"
The Sage chuckled. "We Abiarazi excel at destruction, not creation. Serenii hands shaped this from stone."
"And it's accurate? Even after all this time?"
"Yes. Though I have had to make a few modifications. The landscape of Einan has changed since the days the Serenii ruled the world."
The Hunter traced the coastline toward the bay where he knew the Port of Voramis held guard over the shipping lanes of the south. His eyes wandered northward, across the Chasm of the Lost, and toward Malandria. Two red flags marked the spot, along with a cluster of black flags.
"What are those for?"
The Sage gave him a self-satisfied smile. "My agents in the city." He gestured around the map. "Red flags mark the location of the Abiarazi who serve me. Black flags for my human and Elivasti agents. Every one of them stands ready to follow my orders."
Horror thrummed through the Hunter. The scope of the undertaking stole the Hunter's breath. So many of them!
More than a dozen red flags dotted the map, and the black flags numbered in the hundreds. In every city across Einan, the Sage's agents awaited their master's command to rise.
At the Sage's word, Einan will fall to the Abiarazi!
Chapter Forty-Six
The Hunter forced his expression to one of delight. "Impressive." He studied the map. "Had I known you had agents around Einan, I might not have had to make the journey h
ere."
"And miss the opportunity our partnership presents?"
The Hunter inclined his head. "Fair enough." He glanced toward the south of the map. He'd pondered the question of the Sage's plans in Voramis. He hid a smile; no red or black flags marked Voramis' location. By eliminating the Bloody Hand and the Dark Heresy, he'd removed the Sage's agents. His eyes moved toward the two red pennants in Malandria. If only he knew the truth of Garanis and Toramin.
"Truly, the scope of your endeavor boggles the mind." He met the Sage's empty eyes. "I can only imagine how much time and effort have gone into the organization."
"Which is what makes the timing of your arrival so auspicious." Excitement flashed across the Abiarazi's face as he leaned over the map. "Just as in a game of Nizaa, we approach the endgame. The board is set, the pieces are in place, and all that remains is to make the first move."
"Killing the Warmaster and taking his place as commander of your armies."
The Sage nodded. "With his demise, the Elivasti will be under my sole control."
"And, if you can convince them, perhaps the Masters of Agony as well."
"Perhaps." Disdain flashed across the demon's face. "They are little more than rabble, but their numbers may offer some benefit. I've been tracking the movements of the reinforcements, and they are due to arrive before the end of the week."
According to Master Eldor, the Warmaster's men would arrive much sooner.
"But if they will not join, they will be exterminated." The Sage mimicked crushing a bug. "My Elivasti will eradicate them as surely as a hurricane destroys a rose. Then you will lead them across the Hrandari Plains toward the Twelve Kingdoms. There, you will be welcomed by the al-Malek of Aghzaret, another of my agents. He will provide you with the provisions to march south, through the Advanat, toward Malandria. The trade cities will fall to your army, and with the might of Al Hani at your back, there will be none to stop you from conquering the south. And that is where you come in. With Soulhunger to lead you to the vaults of the Beggar Priests."
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