Darkblade Guardian

by Andy Peloquin

  Memories washed over the Hunter.

  His gaze drifted out the window, past the beautiful spires and towers of Enarium, toward the burning pit in the distance. A shudder ran down his spine at the memory of what had happened that night in Khar'nath. They had both come within a heartbeat of death and only the Beggar's intercession had saved them.

  From his vantage point, he couldn't see the simple stone markers dotting the mountains around Khar'nath, but he knew they were there. Four hundred and sixty-seven of them, at last count. Four hundred and sixty-seven brothers and sisters slain by the Cambionari and laid to eternal rest within sight of the portal to hell.

  The memory sent icy feet dancing down his spine. Hellsgate stood in the way, but there was no mistaking it: the view of Enarium was identical to the one he remembered.

  He whirled to Taiana. “Is this our…” The word caught in his throat. “Was this our…home?”

  Taiana nodded, and a sad little smile touched her lips. “I hoped you would remember.” She stood and came to stand beside him, and her hand slipped into his. “We lived in this room for two years. Two happy years, even though we were being hunted. This is where Jaia was conceived.”

  He glanced at the woman beside him. Once, she’d been short enough that she could rest her head on his shoulder. Now, she stood a hand’s breadth taller than him. For the first time, he noticed the breadth of her shoulders and back, the sleek lines of her legs and hips. Her time in the Chambers of Sustenance had changed her outwardly. What internal changes was he unable to see?

  He had opened his mouth to ask—the words had yet to come to him, but he knew how he felt around her—when a knock sounded at the door.

  “Enter,” Taiana said before he could react.

  Kalil’s patchy-bearded face appeared as the door swung open. “Taiana, it’s—” His eyes went wide at the sight of their naked bodies, and a hint of color appeared at his cheeks. “Er, forgive me, Captain, but Garnos has sent word that he will see you.”

  “When?” Taiana asked. She showed no sign of embarrassment at being fully nude.

  “O-One hour,” Kalil blurted out.

  “Thank you.” Taiana nodded. “We will be ready.”

  “Of course.” The smaller Bucelarii couldn’t close the door quickly enough.

  The Hunter turned to Taiana and found a change had come over her. The vulnerable woman that stared at him with love in her eyes had disappeared. In her place stood the hard-edged captain that had commanded a company of Bucelarii in the War of Gods, and now fought to stop the Elivasti and their Abiarazi masters from using the power of Enarium for their own ends.

  A lump rose in his throat as she turned and quickly pulled on her clothing. Would he ever see his wife again? Not the woman driven by guilt and remorse, but the happy, smiling woman delighted at the love she shared with her husband and eventually her child. Even if they won the war for Enarium and the world, what would remain of her if she couldn’t save Jaia in time?

  The Hunter’s heart felt like it would break into a thousand pieces. He wanted to reach out to her, to comfort her, but what could he say? He was no longer the man she’d known all those years ago. He’d been Drayvin then. The Hunter of Voramis could not be her husband; he didn’t know how.

  The Hunter of Voramis was a killer.

  So be it. I will be what I have been all along. Be it an army of Elivasti, the Sage, or the gods themselves, I will kill anyone who threatens the safety of those I love.

  Chapter Ten

  Kalil waited for them on the third floor. He blushed slightly as he saw Taiana and the Hunter descending, but managed to speak without sounding too embarrassed. “Garnos says he’ll be waiting for you at the usual spot the second hour after dark.”

  A frown twisted Taiana’s face. “That’s all the way across Enarium.”

  Kalil shrugged. “You know how the purple-eyes are. He can’t stray too far from Hellsgate without arousing suspicion.”

  “True.” Taiana nodded. “Very well. Drayvin and I will go to meet him. As for you, get some rest. We’ll be back at the Keeps as soon as I return.”

  “Got it, Captain,” Kalil said, then turned down one of the many hallways that led away from the balconies overlooking the grand chamber below.

  “Let’s go,” she told the Hunter. “We’ve got to hoof it to be there in time.”

  The Hunter fell into step beside her as she descended the stairs. “What was Kalil saying about the Elivasti having to stay close to Hellsgate?” If he was going to break Hailen out of Hellsgate, he’d need as much information on it as he could gather. That included fortifications, vulnerabilities, and details on the men guarding it.

  “Enarium is a large city,” Taiana explained, “too large for the Elivasti to control.”

  “How many of them are there?” the Hunter asked.

  “We’ve never gotten a full count, but at least three or four hundred warriors. Plus their families.”

  The Hunter’s gut tightened. The fortress he’d seen from the upstairs window was enormous, but a few hundred men could hold it easily. Add to that wives and children, and there had to be at least a thousand Elivasti in Hellsgate.

  “The Elivasti concentrate their forces on Hellsgate,” Taiana continued, “but they send out patrols to cover the rest of the city. The patrols are mainly tasked with hunting us, though there is always a company near the gate into Enarium.” She shot a glance at him. “Just in case someone manages to find their way through the Stone Guardians.”

  “I’m guessing there aren’t a whole lot of visitors, then.” The Hunter gave her a wry grin. The Stone Guardians had killed nearly thirty Warrior Priests and Cambionari, and they’d come within a hair’s breadth of doing him in as well. The power consumed by Soulhunger had kept the iron’s poison from killing him, but it had been a close thing.

  They reached the bottom floor, then climbed down the ladder into the tunnels.

  Taiana pulled out the glowing globe and set off through the passage that led to the way out. “I’ve seen only Elivasti come in the five years since I was awakened. The only humans that arrive are hauled through the gates as captives.”

  The Hunter’s brow furrowed. “Why?” It didn’t make sense to him. “Why would the Elivasti bring humans here?” The Elivasti he’d met on Kara-ket seemed content to remain alienated from the world below them. They had avoided humans as much as possible, and never sought out any for prisoners.

  “The Elivasti follow their master.” Taiana shot him a sidelong glance. “You have met the Warmaster that commands them, as well as the Sage that now holds their loyalty. Why would they have their purple-eyes collect humans?”

  The Hunter could think of a number of reasons. The Warmaster had held humans captive in his cells and used them to teach his Masters of Agony the ways of torture. The Sage no doubt employed countless human spies across Einan, and he wouldn’t hesitate to capture them if they served his purposes. But what that purpose was evaded him at the moment.

  His mind worked at the problem as he followed Taiana through the tunnels, out of the storm cellar, and into the now-darkened streets of Enarium.

  The stars twinkled high overhead and a cool breeze ruffled the Hunter’s hair, yet the air held none of the chill he’d expect at night this high in the mountains. It reminded him of Kara-ket, the Serenii temples atop Shana Laal. The Serenii architects that designed it had used vents to draw warm air from the heart of the mountains to create a bubble of unnatural warmth around the city.

  His eyes were drawn to the buildings they passed. The human constructions of stone remained dark, no candles or lanterns burning within their abandoned walls. But the Serenii buildings, the mighty Keeps, emanated a soft blue glow. The same blue as the sapphire lilies and the runes that lit up the Scorchslayers.

  The Serenii magick at work again. Yet he could not shake his disgust as he stared at the glowing buildings. There were people providing the power to keep those buildings alight. Perhaps the Serenii had harn
essed the light of the sun, but they stored it within Bucelarii vessels. How many of my kind lay imprisoned in these Keeps? How many of them are even now dying as the magick consumes their bodies?

  Taiana had said the Bucelarii’s unique healing abilities enabled them to survive the never-ending flow of power, but the sight of the desiccated corpse they’d found left him uneasy. Could centuries spent trapped in the Chambers of Sustenance cause damage even the Bucelarii’s bodies couldn’t repair?

  As ever, his eyes went to the tall, lithe woman beside him. She’d spent nearly five thousand years locked in the Chamber, and it had changed her.

  A question nagged at the back of his mind. What happens if we free more Bucelarii from the Chambers? What will we be unleashing on the world?

  He and Taiana had both served as captains in an army of Bucelarii like him, fighting humans. He had served his father—a general in the Abiarazi army, according to his memories—as had the rest of their kind. They had fought beside the demons that sought to claim Einan for their own. After all, that was what he had been bred to do.

  He was more than just the offspring of demons—he was their weapon.

  How many humans had died at his hands, in the name of Abiarazi conquest? How many had Taiana killed, or Arudan, or Cerran, or Kalil?

  Throughout the centuries, the Bucelarii had been locked away in the Chambers of Sustenance or killed by the Cambionari, until only he remained. Yet he had continued to serve the Abiarazi bloodthirst, the instinct for battle and death that drove his kind. As Nasnaz the Great, conqueror of Al Hani. As the Hunter of Voramis, legendary assassin. How many other lifetimes had he spent killing? How many lives had ended at his hands, stolen to sate Soulhunger’s desires and to feed Kharna, the Destroyer?

  He was the Abiarazi’s weapon of death, and Taiana as well. If they continued to release the Bucelarii, what would become of the world?

  Father Reverentus had told him he alone among the Bucelarii had proven to be dominated by his human nature rather than his demonic blood. If that was true, he shuddered to think of the horrors others of his kind had perpetrated. He had no doubt many—perhaps even most—of the Bucelarii deserved to be locked away. Just as humans succumbed to their greed, lusts, and violent natures, so, too, there had to be a vast number of Bucelarii that could easily fit the description of “evil”.

  Am I willing to let Soulhunger be used to unleash that on Einan again? Taiana needed reinforcements to help fight the Sage and prevent the demon from using the power of Enarium to free the Destroyer. But after they won the battle, what then? The idea of Bucelarii flooding the world once more didn’t sit well with him.

  Yet, if he didn’t let Taiana use Soulhunger, what would happen to his daughter?

  My daughter. Jaia. The name still sent a little thrum of happiness through his heart. In the memory he’d seen beneath Shana Laal, he’d wanted to give their daughter that name. More than anything, he wanted to meet his child.

  Farida had been like a daughter to him, and in many ways, Hailen was like his son. Yet they were not truly his. Paternal instincts he hadn’t realized he possessed drove him to seek out surrogates, children like them to protect. Almost as if a part of his mind had known he had a child, and sought to replace the daughter he didn’t remember with someone he could care for.

  But now he was here. He had reached Enarium, and he had found his wife. Once he freed Hailen and put an end to the Sage, they would find their daughter together. That alone was worth every risk that came with releasing the Bucelarii on the world. He would trade all the gold in the sunken continent of Aegeos for just one hour with his child.

  He would bear this burden, as he bore so many others. Soulhunger is mine, so the responsibility falls on my shoulders. If the Bucelarii it releases prove a threat to the world, I will deal with them as I have dealt with the Abiarazi.

  Taiana circumnavigated the Medial Echelon, cautious for any sign of patrolling Elivasti, then descended to the Base Echelon before they reached the Southeastern Keep. She slipped between a pair of two-story houses, entered a side door, then climbed the stairs to what looked like the master bedroom on the second floor. At the far side of the chamber, an enclosed balcony faced the street—the perfect vantage point to watch the street while still clinging to the shadows of the darkened house.

  Taiana scanned the surroundings, then shot a glance up at the stars. “We made better time than I expected. Either that, or Garnos is late.”

  The Hunter crossed his arms and settled deeper into the shadows of a wooden bookcase. He’d spent many sleepless nights crouched on rooftops or stalking his targets through the slums and mud-crusted streets of Lower Voramis. He could be patient.

  He looked over at Taiana. The shadows made her features seem harder, more determined. She had fully embraced her role as commanding officer, driven by her mission. A hint of impatience showed on her face. She wanted to get this over with so she could return to her true purpose: searching for their daughter.

  The Hunter didn’t blame her. If he hadn’t had Hailen to worry about, he would have thrown every shred of energy into helping Taiana. With the Withering so close, he’d have done everything in his power to prevent his daughter suffering the fate of all those imprisoned in the Chambers.

  But he couldn’t leave Hailen in the hands of the Sage.

  The Hunter’s gut tightened at the sight of a blue-armored figure striding up the street, then turning into the building toward them. His hand dropped slowly to Soulhunger’s hilt as he scanned the night behind the man. One Elivasti would be no problem. This man had no Scorchslayer, simply a spikestaff. He’d go down without a sound.

  Taiana’s hand gripped his arm before he could draw Soulhunger. “That,” she hissed, “is who we’re here to see. That is Garnos.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The Hunter’s hand dropped to Soulhunger’s hilt and every muscle in his body tensed. “You’re meeting with the Elivasti?” he hissed, half-drawing the dagger.

  Taiana’s black eyes met his. “He’s working with us, Drayvin.”

  After a long moment, the Hunter relaxed and sheathed Soulhunger, but kept his hand on the dagger. His past dealings with the Elivasti—here in Enarium and in Kara-ket—had been fraught. He wouldn’t be caught off-guard like he had with Master Eldor. And look how that turned out.

  “Garnos.” Taiana stepped from the shadows as the Elivasti appeared in the doorway to the master bedroom. “Thank you for agreeing to meet.”

  “Of course, Taiana.” Garnos gave her a strained smile. “Though I trust it is sufficiently important to warrant a face-to-face meeting. The arrival of our master has changed things. Hellsgate is locked down, and patrols to hunt you and your merry band down have tripled. The bodies you left by the gate have pissed off a lot of my brethren.”

  “So the Sage is in Hellsgate?” the Hunter asked as he stepped out of the shadows to stand beside Taiana.

  Garnos recoiled, his eyes flashing toward the Hunter. “Who might you be, man who I’ve never met? Another of Taiana’s rescues?” The man studied him through narrowed eyes, much as a stonemason might study a block of marble to be cut.

  “After a fashion.”

  The Hunter returned the Elivasti’s scrutiny. Threads of grey ran through the man’s dark hair and long beard, and the lines on his face made him appear in his fifth or sixth decade of life—which meant more than a hundred years to the long-lived Elivasti. He seemed ill at ease in the armor, as if at an unfamiliar weight. As with all the Elivasti, the Hunter was struck by the absence of scent from the man. A side effect of the Expurgation that cleansed them of the Irrsinnon, it seemed.

  “Garnos, this is Drayvin,” Taiana said. “Drayvin, meet Elder Garnos of the Elivasti.”

  “Elder Garnos?” The Hunter raised an eyebrow. “You don’t look…old enough.”

  Garnos chuckled, and his eyes flashed toward Taiana. “You’re not the first person I’ve heard point that out.”

  The Hunter fixed the man with a
hard gaze. Why would Taiana work with an Elivasti? From everything she’d told him, they had been the cause of most of their problems. The Elivasti had hunted them down, helped the Warmaster imprison Taiana and Jaia, and now worked with the Sage to free Kharna.

  “So?” Garnos cocked his head. “What’s so important you dragged me away from my bed and put everything we’ve worked for at risk?”

  The Hunter shot a glance at Taiana. What does “everything they’ve worked for” entail, exactly?

  “There was a boy who arrived in Enarium earlier today,” Taiana said, then turned to the Hunter.

  “Pale skin, round cheeks, childish chin,” the Hunter replied, adding, “and purple eyes like the rest of your kind.”

  “Ah, of course.” Garnos nodded. “A bright, cheerful lad, it seemed.”

  Relief at discovering Hailen still lived mingled with worry for his wellbeing. If the Elivasti have taken him, it means the Sage has him.

  “Where is he?” the Hunter demanded. “Tell me where I can find him and how I can get to him.”

  “You can’t.” Garnos’ face fell. “He’s at the Sage’s side and surrounded by twenty of our master’s most trusted at all times.”

  Acid burned in the back of the Hunter’s throat. The Sage has the blood he needs to activate the Keeps. The memory of the demon’s slim, pale fingers resting on Hailen’s shoulders in the tunnels beneath Shana Laal set a fire of fury burning within the Hunter. His fists clenched so tight his knuckles cracked and his forearms trembled.

  “You’re certain of this?” Taiana asked, casting a warning glance at the Hunter.

  “As certain as I can be.” Garnos shrugged. “You know my place is down below, not patrolling the streets or serving our master directly.”

  The words “down below” caught the Hunter’s attention, but before he could ask, Taiana pressed the man.