"Exactly." Evren smiled.
The Hunter read the passage again. "Her regal eyes of radiant azure like floating stars below." It could be referring to the glowing plants from the bottom of Sapphire Lake. "And if they show the way to the muse concealed in her soul…"
"Maybe that really means it shows the way to Enarium!" Evren's eyes sparkled.
The Hunter rummaged in his pack and produced one of the plants. The blue light was faint against the firelight, but grew brighter as he strode into the darkness toward the section of cliff where he'd found the runes. When he held up the plant to the stone, the symbols flared to life.
"What else does it say?" he called to Evren.
With a red-face, the young thief read aloud.
“My hands on soft skin
Triangular mounds of slouching flesh
Squeezing, pressure
Until the delight
Of my glorious Queen slender
Set the darkness echoing with the sounds of pleasure.”
The Hunter grimaced at the truly terrible quality of the writing as he scanned the glowing runes in the cliff. "Here!" He pointed to a symbol set level with his head that looked like two oddly-shaped, elongated triangles that only a madman could picture as breasts.
Evren continued.
“Downward, ever lower
Among soft folds
Skin pale and pulpous
Like sun-streaked mountains
For my lips
Begging to be kissed.”
The Hunter studied the runes, and excitement filled him as he found one at chest-level that could match the description. The rune had three diagonal lines floating above overlapping triangles—the sun shining on the mountains.
"Keep going!" he called.
"What's all the ruckus about?" Darillon's voice drifted from within his tent.
Evren ignored the question and continued reading the passage.
“I roamed through rising hips
Slender and fair
O’er mountains of velvet softness
Betwixt lofty knees
The way to her soul
At the golden touch of my caress.”
The Hunter’s mind raced as he studied the glowing runes. A pair of symbols to his left could be the right one, but they didn’t match the descriptions as closely as he’d like. When he moved a few paces along the wall, his heart leapt as one flared to life at his waist level. The glyph resembled two inverted “Vs”, like raised knees.
"What else does it say?"
Evren continued reading the passage.
“Bright, radiant kiss of morn
Sparkling like sapphire lilies
In her eyes
The way to pleasure
A path to the muse’s heart
Unveiled disguise.”
The youth’s forehead wrinkled. "That one make any kind of sense to you?"
The Hunter scanned the glowing symbols. None matched the description in the book. Nothing looked like a circle that could in any way resemble the sun. His mind worked at the problem, trying to find a solution.
"Wait, radiant kiss of morn!" Evren's voice grew excited. "What if ain’t one of the runes? What if it’s talkin’ about sunrise?"
The Hunter whirled as he heard a tent flap being pulled aside and boots crunching on the ground behind him. A sleepy-looking Darillon emerged from his tent wearing a simple pair of breeches, a light tunic, and an expression of extreme irritation.
The Hunter spoke before the mountaineer could. "Which way is east?"
Darillon paused, mouth hanging open, face twisted in displeasure.
"Which way?" the Hunter repeated. He pointed toward the single opening where the trail cut through the cliffs. "Is that east?"
Darillon nodded, his brow furrowing. "Yes, but what does that have to do with…"
The Hunter stopped listening, his mind racing as he thought about the passage. The first light of the rising sun would stream through the opening and shine directly on the section of cliff where he stood. When he met Evren's eyes, he saw the thief had come to the same realization.
"What if sunrise…" he began.
"Does somethin’ to those runes!" Evren turned his attention back to the book, and his mouth worked silently as he re-read the sentence. "It has to be."
The Hunter turned to Darillon. "How long until dawn?"
"An hour, maybe," the man replied after a few moments of staring at the stars.
"Did ye find it?" Rassek had appeared from the tent, and he stood shirtless behind Darillon, his eyes fixed on the Hunter, the glowing plant—sapphire lilies, according to Taivoro—and the runes in the stone wall. "Did ye find the way in?"
The Hunter nodded. "Perhaps."
"Damn right we did!" Excitement echoed in Evren's voice as he thrust a finger toward the cliff. "It's right there."
"Well, what are ye waitin’ fer?" Rassek demanded. "Open it, says I!"
The Hunter shook his head. "Sunrise."
Rassek looked crestfallen. The Hunter understood the man's reaction. He, too, hated the idea of waiting when they were so close.
"Let's break camp," he told the two men. "We’ll pack up and be ready to leave the moment the sun comes up."
Darillon looked skeptical, but Rassek moved without hesitation. His eyes had the same gleam that sparkled in the eyes of the men and women flooding Vothmot’s Prime Bazaar hoping for a chance of finding the treasures of the Serenii in the Lost City. Darillon's no-nonsense attitude hadn't completely dimmed the dreams of adventure that gripped the younger man.
Evren stiffened as the Hunter strode toward him, but this time he didn't flinch when the Hunter held out a hand for the book. "For what it's worth, I ain’t never intended to steal the book. Not after you let me come with you." He straightened and held his head high. "I ain’t the sort to do a man like that."
"Is that so?" The Hunter raised an eyebrow. "So why are the Wardens after you about a dead Lectern?"
Evren's expression froze, and his face grew unreadable as his eyes grew cold and hard. "They think I did it."
"And did you?"
Evren said nothing, just fixed the Hunter with a blank stare.
"The truth, Evren." The Hunter spoke in a low, harsh voice. "Now."
"Why?" Evren retorted. "So you can hand me over to the Wardens like everyone else I ever trusted?"
The Hunter snorted. "You know what I am, what I do. Do you really believe I have any love for the law?"
"So you'll just kill me yourself." Evren's eyes blazed. "After all, I did in a priest, right? Ain’t that oughta be some sort of blasphemy, right there? Ain’t no one gives a damn about the why—all that matters to anyone is that a priest is dead."
"I care." The words came out before the Hunter realized it. More surprising, he found he actually meant it. "There are times when the reasons justify the actions."
Evren stared at him, his gaze searching. Pain cast a shadow over the young man's eyes. The Hunter recognized the look all too well: it spoke of a deep-rooted suffering that never went away, no matter how far you ran.
"All anyone sees is the façade. The Lecterns, collectors of wisdom and servants of Kiro, the Master. Like they're some kind of holy men." He swallowed, and a shudder ran down his spine. "Ain’t nobody knows what the priests do inside the temple. The things they make us do…"
Acid rose to the Hunter's throat. He knew. He'd seen the Master's priests visiting the pleasure houses that catered to the most twisted appetites. Boys and girls, none close to adulthood, providing services that made even his death-hardened stomach clench. Yet he'd never imagined that they did those things within the confines of their own temple. As Evren had said, few ever saw beyond the priestly façade.
"You killed someone who laid hands on you." The Hunter spoke in a quiet voice.
"I had enough." Angry tears glimmered in Evren's eyes, and his fists clenched tight. "For years, they…" His voice cracked. He swallowed, and it took him a moment to speak aga
in. "I’d rather starve as a thief on the streets than do that shit."
Fury blazed hot within the Hunter. Marin, an old man in Sirkar Jeroen's caravan, had tried to do those things to Hailen. The Hunter had barely arrived in time to stop it. He'd left Marin a bloody, shredded corpse. Men who preyed upon innocent, vulnerable children like Hailen—or Evren, once upon a time—filled him with rage.
"Never doubt you did the right thing," the Hunter said in a harsh voice.
Evren's eyes went wide in shock, as if this was the last response he'd expected.
The Hunter held up a clenched fist. "No man who does that deserves to live."
He left a stunned Evren and hurried toward the tent he shared with Hailen. The commotion of breaking camp had awoken the boy, but he hadn't arisen. He lay fully-clothed on his roll, his gaze as blank as ever, fixed on the empty darkness above his head.
"Hailen?" The Hunter spoke in a quiet voice. "Can you hear me?"
The boy gave no sign of recognition, didn't even move.
The Hunter swallowed the lump in his throat. He'll get better, he told himself. He has to.
He helped Hailen to stand, tugged on the boy's shoes, and pulled his heavy cloak over his shoulders. Hailen made no protest as the Hunter carried him out to where the horses stood waiting. He sat in listless silence while the Hunter saddled Ash and Elivasti, and slouched in his seat atop the horse's back.
The Hunter glanced at the sky. The first hints of light appeared over the eastern horizon. The sun would soon be rising.
"We have to hurry!" He rushed to help Rassek tear down his tent. Anxiety nagged at the back of his mind as they tore down the camp, kicked dirt over the fire, and prepared the horses. With every heartbeat, the sky overhead grew lighter.
Finally, the last of the gear had been stowed and secured, the horses saddled and ready to ride. Rassek glanced at him with an eager curiosity, and a hint of excitement replaced even Darillon's usual stoic expression.
The Hunter pulled out the Taivoro and read over the passage one more time.
“Bright, radiant kiss of morn
Sparkling like sapphire lilies
In her eyes
The way to pleasure
A path to the muse’s heart
Unveiled disguise.”
He pondered it, going over the strange wording over and over.
It couldn't simply be the light of the rising sun that activated whatever power those runes held. If so, the way would open every day at the same time. Some fortunate mountaineer would have stumbled on it at some point in the last five thousand years. So what was it?
The words “sparkling like sapphire lilies” stuck in his brain. Realization dawned slowly on him.
He reached into his pack and drew out three of the glowing plants.
"Here!" He handed each to Rassek, Darillon, and Evren. "Do exactly as I say, quickly."
Rassek was the first to leap into action, dismounting and seizing the glowing plant.
"Shine the light on the one that looks like the weird-shaped breasts." He tugged the mountaineer toward the place where he remembered seeing the rune. "There!"
The glowing symbol flared to life as Rassek held the sapphire lily up to it.
"Evren, find the second rune, the one that looks like sun-streaked mountains."
The young thief searched the cliff face until the odd-looking symbol shone bright.
The Hunter had Darillon hold the last of the glowing flowers up to the highest rune, the one that looked like two inverted “Vs”. The three symbols glowed in the blue light.
The Hunter gritted his teeth. This has to work.
At that moment, the first rays of sunlight peered over the eastern horizon and streamed through the opening in the cliffs. The light hit the uppermost rune first, the one Taivoro had described as “triangular mounds of slouching flesh”. The golden brilliance drowned out the soft glow of the sapphire lily.
The rune flared from azure to a red so bright it hurt his eyes to look at it. An audible hum filled the air, low at first, but growing louder with every passing second. Seconds later, the sunlight reached the second rune, and it too flared a brilliant crimson. The humming grew strong enough that the Hunter could feel the very stones beneath his feet vibrating.
Rassek gasped. "Yes!"
"It's workin’!" Evren cried.
The moment the light hit the lowest of the runes, the hum turned into a deep-throated rumble. The earth trembled violently beneath their feet, setting the rocks strewn across the ground clattering.
With the enormous grinding of stone on stone, the entire cliff before them rumbled to one side. The way to Enarium was open.
Chapter Twenty-Five
For long seconds, no one moved. All stared at the landscape now visible through the opening. A broad path carved through the cliffs, rising in a single unbroken trail that threaded through the jagged peaks. Yet somehow, the mountains beyond looked different from the grey stone of the cliffs beside them. Almost a pristine beauty, untouched and unseen for thousands of years.
Even the Hunter found himself at a loss for words at the sight before him. He'd dared to hope his desperate gamble would pay off, and this was the reward for his hope. Elation bubbled within his chest. He let out a triumphant laugh and pumped his fist in the air.
The Hunter glanced at the other four members of his small party. Evren's jaw hung open, and even stoic Darillon seemed shocked.
"By the Master!" Rassek breathed. "The path to the Lost City."
Only Hailen's expression hadn't changed; he stared into empty space with the same vacant expression.
Rassek turned to Darillon, triumph shining in his eyes. "What did I tell ye?"
Darillon scowled. "If the next words out of your mouth are 'I told you so', I'm leaving you here and now."
Rassek grinned. "I told ye so, ye grumpy, disbelievin’ bastard!" He burst out into laughter, a hearty sound full of relief and exhilaration. "I told ye we'd find the way, I did."
Darillon rolled his eyes, but the Hunter caught the twitching of the man's lips. Finally, the smile broke free, and he chuckled. "So you did, Rassek. So you did." He reached over and gripped the younger man's hand. Rassek returned the gesture, and there was a fond look in his eyes.
The Hunter reached for Ash's reins. "Who wants to do the honor of leading the way?"
"Me!" Rassek cried. He released Darillon's hand as he spurred his horse into motion through the opening. Darillon fell into line behind him, followed by Evren, with the Hunter and Hailen in the rear. The humming grew louder as they rode between the thick stone cliffs. It sounded like a thousand bees buzzing within the rocky walls, and the vibrations ran up the horse's legs and rumbled through the Hunter's bones.
He glanced at the walls to his right and left, as if expecting them to snap shut on him like the jaws of some enormous leviathan. Yet they seemed as solid and unmoving as they had been moments earlier—only, in a different place, with a gap three paces wide between them.
The moment Elivast passed beyond the far side of the cliffs, the Hunter felt an almost tangible snap deep within his mind. The mental wall he'd erected seemed to crumble away, and the demon's presence filled his head with shrieking as it burst free of its confinement.
The pain was excruciating, like a thousand red-hot daggers driven into his eyes and molten lead coursing through his skull. He clenched his jaw to bite back a cry of agony as the intensity of the demon's cries set his head pounding. It felt as if his head would explode with the force building within him.
He tried in vain to rebuild the mental wall. The demon was too strong, its fury too overwhelming for him to withstand. Waves of desire, hatred, anger, and bloodlust washed through him. All of his willpower went into remaining upright when he wanted nothing more than to collapse to the ground and curl into a ball. Anything to make the agony stop.
"Hardwell?"
A single word, faint, as if it came from a thousand leagues away, yet close beside him. Warm flesh presse
d against his palm, and he felt a small hand grip his. The shrieking quietened and the pain receded enough that he could open his eyes.
Hailen held his hand, his brow furrowed as he studied the Hunter with concern written in his purple eyes. "Hardwell, are you hurt?"
Tears streamed down the Hunter's cheeks, brought on by the agony in his head, yet now mingled with his relief at seeing Hailen normal again. He gripped the boy's hand tighter and shook his head. "No," he said through gritted teeth, "I'm…fine."
For all these months, Hailen's presence had been the only thing to keep the demon at bay. Something had changed the moment he passed through the cliffs. Ice flooded his veins as he realized what it was.
The curse of the Empty Mountains.
Queen Asalah, the demon in Al Hani, had said the curse twisted the minds of the Abiarazi. That meant his Abiarazi half would also be twisted by the curse. He could feel the change in his inner demon. When first he'd heard its voice in Voramis, it spoke quietly, a faint presence in the back of his mind. Over time, it had grown stronger, more insistent. With every kill, it had claimed more of his thoughts and gained power.
This was different…wrong. The curse amplified the demon's strength a hundredfold. It screamed incoherent nonsense in his mind, its voice at once pleading, demanding, and insisting. Every shred of his willpower went into maintaining his grip on his sanity. If he relaxed or lost control for even an instant, it would claim him and turn him into that same rage-filled creature of death he'd been in the House of Need in Malandria. People would die—Rassek, Darillon, Evren, maybe even Hailen. His head throbbed with such intensity it felt his skull would split.
Yet the curse had changed Hailen as well. The boy, who had been lost in his own mind, had emerged from the madness inherited from his Serenii forefathers. The emptiness in his eyes had gone, replaced by the bright, cheerful look the Hunter knew so well.
The Hunter would bear the pain many times over, for Hailen's sake.
He gritted his teeth and spurred Elivast forward. To his relief, neither Evren nor the mountaineers had noticed. They were too busy gawking at their surroundings, at the mountains none in their lifetime or that of their fathers’ or fathers’ fathers’ fathers had seen.
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