Darkblade Guardian

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Darkblade Guardian Page 80

by Andy Peloquin


  The Hunter’s eyes narrowed. “What are they feeding?”

  “The city itself,” Taiana said, and shook her head. “I cannot say to what end, but Enarium was built by the Serenii to harness power. These Chambers are clearly their design, so it must be that the energy they harvest from their occupants is intended to fulfill whatever purpose the city was created for.”

  Dread sank like a stone in the Hunter’s gut. He had no idea what that purpose was, but the fact that the Sage had come here, now, meant it couldn’t be anything good. Or, at the very least, the Abiarazi would turn the Serenii’s handiwork into his tool to unleash Kharna onto the world once more.

  “Our mission is to free as many of our brethren from these Chambers as possible.” Taiana fixed him with a searching gaze. “We have spent the last years evading the Elivasti’s notice so we could continue our efforts unhindered.”

  “Until today,” Kalil put in. The smaller man had remained silent all this time, but now he spoke in a voice heavy with sorrow. He glared at the Hunter. “Until you.”

  “What?” Cerran’s fiery red eyebrows shot up, and his black eyes snapped to Taiana. “You fought the purple-eyes?”

  “Yes.” Taiana’s shoulders straightened and her jaw took on a stubborn set, one the Hunter knew so well. He’d seen that unyielding iron will in his memories. “If we hadn’t, they would have captured him.”

  “So?” Cerran snapped. “You know the purple-eyes won’t let those deaths go unpunished. They’ll come looking for us even harder than they have been.”

  “They haven’t found us yet.” Taiana met his gaze without hesitation. Though only a hand’s breadth taller than the man, she seemed to loom over him, as ferocious as she’d been when fighting the Elivasti. “We were careful coming here, and we’ll be careful returning to our base. They will continue to hunt us in vain, as they have all these years.”

  All these years. How many had it been? His memories of her dated back centuries, maybe more. Has she been here in Enarium all this time? Hunted by Elivasti, digging through dirt on a mission he didn’t yet understand but which seemed of monumental importance to her. All the while, he’d lived the life of an assassin half a continent away, not even knowing of her existence.

  “He doesn’t look like much.” Cerran was speaking again, and he seemed to be sizing the Hunter up. “If you had to save him from the Elivasti, he—”

  “I saved him from iron,” Taiana said in a hard-edged voice. She gestured to Soulhunger hanging in its sheath at the Hunter’s hip. “With that.”

  Cerran’s eyes narrowed, then went wide. “Bloody hell!” His hand seemed to reach instinctively for Soulhunger. “Can it be?”

  The Hunter stepped back before Cerran touched Soulhunger. “Don’t even think about trying to take it.”

  Cerran’s eyes darted from the Hunter to Taiana. “One of the Im’tasi, returned to us after all this time.”

  “Indeed.” Taiana nodded. “For too long, we have been forced to hide in the shadows. The arrival of Drayvin and Thanal Eth’ Athaur means we will no longer need to cower from the Elivasti. They have their Scorchslayers, but they are no match for us.”

  The Hunter felt as if he were missing something. According to the First, all of the Bucelarii had received a similar weapon from their Abiarazi ancestors. They had been intended to feed Kharna, the Destroyer, the power required to break free of his eternal prison. Yet none of these three carried theirs. Indeed, they spoke of Soulhunger with the same reverence humans spoke of Serenii artifacts or the Lost City of Enarium.

  “With the Withering so near,” Taiana was saying, “he could not have come at a more perfect time.”

  The Hunter’s ears perked up at the word. “You know of the Withering?”

  “Of course.” Taiana’s eyes darted to his, and a mixture of curiosity and confusion mingled in her gaze. “Isn’t that why you are here?”

  “I know it’s important to the Sage’s plans.” The mention of the demon sent anger flaring through the Hunter. He’d come to Enarium to put an end to the Sage’s machinations and stop him from freeing Kharna. “But beyond that, I have been unable to find any more information.”

  Cerran and Kalil exchanged glances, and Taiana’s brow furrowed. A long moment passed before she spoke.

  “The Withering occurs every five hundred years,” Taiana explained in a slow voice. “The sun darkens and the sky turns crimson. The Abiarazi, our fathers, called it the ‘Blood Sun’ when it occurred during the War of Gods many millennia ago. But the Serenii named it Er’hato Tashat, which means ‘Flames of Heaven’.”

  Her gesture encompassed not just the room in which they stood, but the entire city.

  “Enarium was built to harness the power of the Er’hato Tashat.” The quiet tone of her voice seemed somehow ominous in the silence of the blue-lit underground chamber. “When the Withering comes, the city will come alive!”

  Chapter Four

  The Hunter’s brow furrowed. “Come alive? What does that mean?”

  “Think of Enarium as a giant dam,” Taiana said, “but instead of filling with water, it fills with magick. The Serenii found a way to harness the power of the Er’hato Tashat, and Enarium is the conduit that will channel it. You saw the way those towers were arranged, yes? Eight Keeps made of Serenii crystal, one at each corner of the compass.” She raised three fingers. “Three Echelons, all pointed toward the Illumina in the heart of Enarium.”

  The Hunter nodded.

  “Once the power is collected, it can be controlled from the uppermost chamber in the Illumina.” She thrust a finger in the direction of the heart of the Enarium.

  “So what are we doing grave-robbing the Northwest Keep instead of heading up to the Illumina and taking control?” The Hunter raised an eyebrow.

  “What a brilliant plan!” Cerran said, again in that mocking tone. “If only we’d—”

  Taiana cut him off with a chop of her hand. “We lack manpower, and weapons. The Elivasti wield their Scorchslayers and spikestaffs, while we have nothing but our bare hands and what little we have stolen or scrounged. With Neroth’s death, only four Bucelarii remain to fight.”

  “Five,” the Hunter said without hesitation. “I’ve come all this way to put an end to the Sage, so I will do whatever it takes to stop him.”

  Cerran gave him a sardonic smile. “Even if it means fighting through an army of blue-armored Elivasti?” There are at least three hundred between us and that tower.” He flicked a finger toward Soulhunger. “One Im’tasi won’t be enough.”

  “Which is precisely why we are, as you said, ‘grave-robbing’.” Taiana’s expression was hard, edged with something deeper than anger. “Those of us the Cambionari did not kill were locked away in these Chambers of Sustenance, imprisoned forever and drained of our life force. As you saw, some of our brethren did not outlive their captivity. Others…”

  Her jaw muscles worked, and she shot a glance at Kalil and Cerran. “We are the strong ones, the survivors. We search out these Chambers of Sustenance in the hope that we will find others like us to join in the final battle for Enarium.”

  The Hunter’s eyes went to the shriveled cadaver nestled in the glowing Chamber. That was once a Bucelarii? A strong, near-invincible creature with the blood of the Abiarazi flowing through its veins reduced to ash. He shuddered at the thought of the slow, inexorable death that Bucelarii had faced, and now he understood the shadow in Taiana’s eyes. How long did she spend locked away in a Chamber of Sustenance?

  “You can join us, too, Drayvin.” She took a step closer, and the scent of her filled his nostrils. “Your armor and weapons speak of a life of battle. Your skill and strength, with Thanal Eth’ Athaur at your side, could give us a chance of not just survival, but victory.”

  For a long moment, the Hunter held her gaze. A pleading look filled her eyes, a desperate hope ringing in her voice. He wanted to help her, wanted it more than anything. If the Elivasti were the enemy, it was almost certain the Sage was
the one controlling them. Helping Taiana and the other Bucelarii would inevitably lead him to confronting the Sage.

  But that was only half of his purpose for coming to Enarium. He had come in search of a cure for the Irrsinnon, the madness that plagued all descendants of the Serenii. Hailen’s purple eyes marked him as Elivasti—as Melechha, a pure-blooded offspring. In Vothmot, Father Reverentus had said Hailen was the hope for the future. His blood would lock Kharna away forever.

  Or free the Destroyer from his eternal prison. The thought sent icy feet dancing down his spine.

  If, as he feared, the Sage controlled the Elivasti in Enarium, the purple-eyed men that captured Hailen and Kiara would take the boy to the Abiarazi. The Sage would either order Hailen’s death or use the power offered by his blood. The demons had shown unfaltering willingness to use any means to achieve their ends, regardless of how many were left dead or suffering in their wake. The Sage would slit Hailen’s throat without hesitation.

  He had sent Hailen ahead to Enarium in the hopes of saving him from the Stone Guardians, only to place him squarely within the Sage’s reach. He had to rescue the boy.

  “I will aid you in your war,” he said in a slow voice. “I will lend my skill and Soulhunger’s power to your cause.”

  Relief filled Taiana’s eyes, and her shoulders relaxed.

  “But not until I am certain the boy is safe.”

  The lines of tension returned to Taiana’s face, but the wary look in her eyes took on a thoughtful edge.

  “You would put the wellbeing of one human child over the fate of the entire world?” Cerran snapped.

  “No.” The Hunter shook his head. “But I swore to protect the child with my life. Surely you can understand the value of such an oath.”

  “Certainly,” Cerran began, “but—”

  “There is no ‘but’.” The Hunter cut him off with a chopping motion. “Those are my terms. Help me find the boy and ensure his safety, and I will do everything in my power to help you win your war.” He shot Cerran a sharp smile. “Even if that means carving my way through an army of purple-eyes.”

  Cerran’s sour expression softened, and a glint of approval flashed in his eyes. That was clearly the sort of thing a warrior like him could respect.

  “You have a deal,” Taiana said without hesitation. “We will help you find your boy, and you will help us save the world.” For a moment, her hand twitched, reaching toward him. A hint of sorrow shone in her eyes, but there was something else there as well. He had seen that expression in his memories…when he spoke of protecting their child.

  Thoughts of their child sent his gaze back to Kalil. Though he saw no resemblance, he couldn’t help wondering if the young Bucelarii was truly his son. He ached to ask Taiana but something held him back. Fear, perhaps, that he’d hear the answer he’d been dreading in the back of his mind—the answer that his child had died. He had lost too much in the last months. Farida. Bardin. Master Eldor. All the others that had been almost like friends to him. He didn’t know if he could endure another heartbreak. He would ask her, but not yet.

  But her hand fell back to her side and the emotion faded from her eyes. The commanding edge returned to her voice as she turned to the smaller of the two men.

  “Kalil, get to the dead drop and let Garnos know we want to talk to him.”

  Kalil nodded, turned, and crawled into the hole in the wall. The sound of clattering rocks and scraping dirt echoed for a few moments, then faded as the smaller Bucelarii clambered through the tunnel.

  “Cerran,” Taiana continued, “what of our progress on the other Chambers of Sustenance? How is Arudan doing with finding out more about the tunnels?”

  “Slow work.” The red-haired man stroked his thick, braided beard. “But these spikestaffs should go a long way toward speeding up progress.”

  The Hunter narrowed his eyes at the weapons Taiana had taken from the dead Elivasti. They were clearly weapons intended for war, not for scratching away at hard-packed earth and stony ground. Are these the best tools they have? The whole situation struck him as strange. These were Bucelarii, war-bred and trained creatures like him that had fought in the War of Gods, not grubby miners.

  There has to be a better way to go about this than digging tunnels. Cerran had mentioned resonator stones, and though the Hunter wasn’t certain where to find one, surely that ought to take priority. Perhaps the Elivasti had the stones that would grant them access. He could use his abilities to shift his features to sneak into their stronghold and find them. The plan had worked with the Sage’s Elivasti in Kara-ket and the Lecterns in the House of Need.

  He strode over to the glass door for a closer look at the fist-sized, transparent square gemstone. It was the only unique feature on the wall, the only thing not emanating the same blue glow that leaked from the walls and ceiling of the room.

  His brow furrowed. That’s strange. The color of the stone reminded him of the gemstone set in Soulhunger’s hilt. Could it be?

  Drawing the dagger, he studied the jewel nestled in the claw-like pommel, then back at the transparent stone. It seemed identical. Could it be some sort of locking mechanism like the Lectern had described back in Vothmot? Hesitant, he moved the dagger closer to the stone.

  Soulhunger’s pommel hovered a finger’s breadth from the gemstone, so close he could feel the faint humming that coursed through the glowing walls. Yet the door remained silent and closed. He lowered the dagger, then an idea struck him. Perhaps the stones needed to touch to activate. He pressed the pommel against the transparent stone and held his breath.

  For an instant, nothing happened. He could feel the thrumming in the wall as the vibrations ran through Soulhunger’s gemstone and down the hilt. Without a sound, the door slid to one side. The Hunter was so shocked he could only stare open-mouthed down at Soulhunger, then up at the open doorway.

  He’d hated the dagger for so long, had hated the voice in his mind, the relentless driving urge to kill. He’d almost thrown it away half a dozen times since Voramis. Yet now, after everything he’d endured, to find that it was the key to freeing his kind struck him as a cruel irony.

  “Taiana?” he called over his shoulder. “You’ll want to see this.”

  “What is i—?” Her voice cut off in a sharp intake of breath. She rushed to his side. “How did you do that?”

  He held up Soulhunger so she could see the crystal clear jewel set into its hilt. “The gemstone.”

  Taiana snatched the dagger from his hands with such speed he had no time to react. He didn’t remember her being that fast.

  “It must be a resonator stone,” she breathed as she studied the gemstone. She pressed it against the locking mechanism again, and the door slid shut without a sound, then open again when she repeated it. She whirled on him with excitement burning in her eyes. “Do you know what this means?”

  “Please tell me it means we don’t have to do any more bloody digging!” Cerran said from behind them.

  “This changes everything!” Wonder filled her voice. “To think, after all this time, it was the Im’tasi all along.”

  “You never tried with yours?” the Hunter asked. He’d been here all of ten minutes, and though it had been a lucky guess, he couldn’t imagine the idea would never have crossed her mind. If the weapon she inherited from her Abiarazi forefathers resembles mine—

  “I have not seen it since…before.” Sorrow flashed in her eyes.

  “Before?” The Hunter’s brow furrowed. “Before what?”

  She shuddered, and the shadow passed over her eyes again. “Before the Warmaster locked me in a Chamber of Sustenance.”

  The Hunter’s eyes went wide. The Warmaster? His mind whirled as he tried to comprehend her words.

  The Warmaster had been the Sage’s Abiarazi rival in Kara-ket, and he’d commanded the Masters of Agony, the Einan-renowned torturers. Yet the huge demon had said nothing of Enarium beyond hinting at it being the source of his opia supply. And, with the curse of the
Serenii on the Empty Mountains, how could he have come to Enarium without being driven insane and transformed into one of the Stone Guardians?

  “We will speak of it later.” A note of finality echoed in her voice. “For now, let us take advantage of our newfound fortune and search the Keep for any sign of our surviving brethren.”

  “What of the boy?” the Hunter demanded. “You said you’d help me.”

  “And I will,” Taiana said. “But first, we need to—”

  “We need to get out of here,” Cerran said. The man had gone silent, rigid, his grip on the spikestaff in his hand so tight his knuckles had turned white. “Now!”

  In that moment, the Hunter’s keen ears detected a faint sound. It came from above him, quiet enough that it took effort for him to recognize it. Voices.

  “Elivasti!” Cerran hissed. “What are they doing here?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Taiana pressed Soulhunger to the locking mechanism to close the door, then handed the dagger back to the Hunter. “We cannot be discovered. We will go now, but return another time.”

  Cerran was already moving, ducking into the narrow tunnel and scrabbling into the darkness. Taiana followed, while the Hunter brought up the rear. He hated the idea of fleeing, even from the Elivasti. He’d seen enough of their skill-at-arms on Kara-ket to have developed a deep respect for them, but he was not afraid. They wielded weapons of steel, not the iron-tipped staves they’d carried on Shana Laal. He could evade their Scorchslayers, and the close quarters would hinder their aim.

  He hesitated, glancing back over his shoulder. I just need one alive long enough to tell me where Hailen is being held.

  “Drayvin!”

  He couldn’t ignore that voice. He’d come all this way to find her, and couldn’t bear to be separated from her again. She had said she would help him find Hailen, so he had to trust her, the woman that had been his wife.

 

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