Could he really have turned back now? With the weight of her magic upon him? Or was he just fooling himself? Each step further underground felt lighter and easier. He knew if he turned back, each one would be a terrible arduous trial to climb. He was snared now; his struggles would just tighten the noose. He had come too far and he knew it.
The stairs bottomed out on a hard stone floor and a second archway. He wheezed as he reached it, the wound in his chest aching, where the two arrows had hit. It had begun to heal, but he was beyond old, and his body took its time over such things. The chamber was like a damp cave that rose high overhead, tall ornate pillars casting an array of parallel shadows towards him. The blue light came from the very end, just out of sight.
Naus crept forward, certain now that he could never turn back. Flaming torches lit the way, yet a cold dread settled over him, making his skin prickle with goosepimples. This was the end for him. He might get his answers, but he wasn’t taking them anywhere.
And there she was.
Her silver hair was still that of the woman he remembered, long and flowing, but there the similarities died, like the hope he had of leaving here alive. If he thought his own skin was leathery, hers was grey and dead, covered with dark sores and cracks. She sat like a cold statue on the obsidian throne of Theris, a throne he remembered she had fashioned a thousand years ago when she founded the city. Her eyes were huge, full black orbs sunken into a cadaverous skull face. Her jaw was missing.
The Medousa, the Goddess.
The Queen of Darkness.
Noctiluca.
Eleutheria.
All one and the same.
Above hung the largest Medusi he’d ever seen outside the Celestials. It was attached to her by a snaking tube that slid from her gnarled and grotesquely misshapen spine up into the morass of writhing tentacles that hung below its huge bloated form. The oldest of the Medusi, one of an original two, the book had said. Amnion. Naus was put in mind of an alien presence presiding over all.
The Medousa stood then. She was tall like Eleutheria had been. Her limbs were thin and pale, her hands and fingers like the claws of an eagle. She descended the steps toward him.
I knew you’d come, she said.
Her voice sounded in his head like it had when he and Totelun had listened to her from Harling’s office. It made him wince in pain at the same time as it soothed and penetrated deep into his heart.
Eleutheria’s voice. How had he not recognised it before?
He reached up and removed his hood, let it settle on his shoulders. He knew Cassandra could hear everything that would be said here, and through her telepathic link, her sister Aurelia. Totelun would hear it second hand.
‘It’s been a long time, Eleutheria,’ said Naus, revealing what he knew as much for them as himself. ‘A very long time.’ He paused and then made the decision that he would speak as if to his oldest friend, mentor and mistress. Not the dark creature she had become. ‘But I can come back in another millennium if you’re busy.’
Her laugh was soft in his mind.
Oh, Nausithorn. I’m glad you have not lost your sense of humour.
‘You don’t seem surprised to see me,’ he said. ‘Did you know I was alive all these centuries?’
I didn’t know for certain you were still alive, Naus, she said. I lost track of you after the War of the Overlords. I assumed you had died hundreds of years ago. Not until I started to follow the progress of the storyteller, Arcturus, did I suspect. I pieced it together from there.
Arcturus was a man with far too much knowledge of the old legends, far too many questions. A storyteller who was also a skilled swordsman, it’s almost absurd.
‘It makes sense.’
No, it doesn’t. The backstory of your character had as many holes as your rendition of the War. At that point I decided it had to be you. You mentioned my sons, for example. I have erased their stories from the official canon. You gave yourself away.
‘You thought it was me, even after a thousand years?’ Naus said, incredulous. He put his hand to his upper lip. It came away bloody.
She smiled like a corpse might. I know more about you than you do, Naus. I knew if you hadn’t died through violent means, that you could still be alive. Just like me. We are more alike than you realise.
‘How so?’ he said, unable to help himself. ‘Why are we immortal?’
Maybe we’ll get to that, she said. I decided to let you into my Temple. What did you discover in my Order’s archives?
Naus considered his answer. This was his chance to spread the information to Cassandra and Totelun, to ensure his allies had everything they could use. Anything Eleutheria heard, would travel through the hivemind network of the Cepheans, and Cassandra would hear it. This was why he had taken this insane decision to confront her, because even if he couldn’t find Totelun again, he could still tell him everything. And he had much to tell.
‘I found a very informative book in your library, with a history in it entirely different to the official one.’
I bought up every book that disagreed with it, killed or captured their authors.
‘The history I found is proven accurate.’ He gestured to the Medusi hovering above them. ‘The Overlords are dead. All of them. And you killed them. But not in the way the legends tell. You didn’t defeat Cepheus and then let the others tear themselves apart. Instead, you took his Medusi for yourself, took its power, the power of Coercion.
‘You can control the thralls, and any Wild or Common Medusi. You cannot directly control the Cephean, but you communicate with them. An incredible power, but you have to be the one in control.’
Anything else? she hissed.
‘An aura of coercion surrounds you,’ said Naus, ‘one that can control and persuade those within it.’ He didn’t add that some were strangely immune to this power, thinking of Totelun and his story of the Trelki. That was Totelun’s secret. ‘Don’t think I haven’t felt it.
‘Once you had this power, you were able to defeat each of the Overlords one by one, coercing them into destroying themselves or each other. You used the power that had held them together to rip them apart. I read that you suffered a grievous injury in the desperate duel with Cepheus,’ he said, looking at her disfigured jaw, ‘one that you still bear to this day. Seeing as that is true, I have little cause to doubt the rest.’
There was a long silence where Naus ran out of things to throw at her. He stared into the gaping maw that had once been her beautiful mouth. He tried hard to see the woman she had been, but her beauty had fled, her skin had wasted and cracked, her eyes were barely even human. It was like trying to find the beauty in a skull.
You have lost your humour now, she said, tasting every word.
He gazed up at the imposing Medusi that loomed over him, dominating the throne room entirely. He felt like he was only permitted to live by its sufferance. Medusi like that were unnatural, especially in the realm of men.
What was the real question he wanted to ask? What did he really want to say?
‘I want to know why, Elle?’ It was out before he’d even realised it, the pet name for her he hadn’t uttered in more than ten centuries. She barely noticed. ‘Why did Eleutheria, the first Empress, beloved of her people and intolerant of thralls and Medusi the world over, why in that duel with Cepheus, did you take his Medusi and become a thrall yourself? How did Eleutheria become Noctiluca?’
She didn’t answer immediately. She descended the last few steps so that they were level, although she was taller than him, as she had always been. As she moved around him, the thralling tentacle moved in the air above her, tethering her to the evil overhead.
Finally, he heard her. I evolved, Nausithorn. You think I betrayed myself, is that what you want to hear? Well, it isn’t true. It was the only way to defeat the Overlords. I was following Velella’s prophecy, the one she gave to me alone. I had to take their power in order to defeat them, do you understand? Without my sacrifice, she gestured to the thralli
ng tentacle, the Overlords would still rule this world.
‘You have betrayed this world,’ said Naus. ‘You betrayed the very idea of Eleutheria. And now you believe your own lies. Even if you hadn’t taken Amnion, the other prophecy would still have been valid. The saviour would still fall from the sky. You have drawn out and perpetuated that prophecy by a thousand years. Only now is it coming true. The unwise war you fought ripped the world apart, caused the Floating Islands. You were unhinged, dangerously power mad even before you took this creature. You are as much to blame for that War as they were.’ Naus could feel his voice rising. He’d never been good at dealing with the zealot Clerics, let alone their leader.
She was no longer the Eleutheria he had known. He had to accept that now, and do what he had to do.
Does that convenient myth make it more palatable to you? she said. I was trying to stop them. By any means necessary. I was prepared to die, prepared to be thralled.
Naus sighed, exasperated. ‘If taking the power were all you’d done, it might have been okay. But look what you’ve become. You created Noctiluca, the Medousa, the Queen of Darkness, bent on thralling the world. Obsessed with taking back the power Eleutheria gave up at the end. A thousand years on, instead of facing the Overlords, we are forced to face you.’
Are you quite finished? she snapped, sending a wave of coercive power through Naus’ mind. He lurched and dropped to the floor, his nose dripping scarlet blood over his lips.
‘You can’t deny it. You can only lash out at me,’ he said, struggling to his feet again, dangerously out of control. He took some deep breaths trying to calm himself. He had known talking of her betrayal would bring it all out. A thousand years of pent up anger and disappointment.
Why did you come here, Naus? Was it just to stand there in judgement of my choices? Was it just to say your piece?
‘I had to know,’ he said. ‘I had to know Eleutheria was truly dead.’
She is.
‘And I had to at least try to put an end to Noctiluca,’ Naus growled.
That smile again. With what magic? I am a goddess, you are just a man. I have the power of the Overlords.
‘That you stole from them.’
You may be immortal like me, Naus, said Noctiluca, but I think you came here to die. It’s the only explanation. You had to know you wouldn’t leave here alive. She turned to face him again just one step up on the dais. I have listened to enough. Attack me and I will show you the extent of my power. I will show you the meaning of coercion.
But choose to serve me, and I will welcome you back even now.
Some strange, as yet still unhealed part of Naus wanted to. Just slide back into the service of the first Empress as he had so long ago. Never mind the atrocities she had committed since, her flair for murder, her magic and influence and the fact she now led a dangerous cult. It would be easy, he realised, but it would mean returning to the subservient Naus he had been all those centuries ago. Despite the lonely years on the road since, he had grown, matured, and in all the ways that mattered, he’d decided he didn’t actually deserve the way she’d treated him. He just thought he had at the time. Climbing out of the pit of depression and lassitude that had engulfed him then had taken a century or more. He wasn’t about to throw it all away.
Come to me, she said. Kneel and all is forgiven. We can go back to the way it used to be.
Naus stepped forward, his legs obeying her directive, the commanding magic in her voice. Closer and closer, until he was barely two strides away. He could see the enflamed throat within the disfigured jaw, he could feel himself falling into it again.
The sides of her upper jaw clenched as she began to smile. Only one who had enjoyed power for as long as she had could expect their servants to return even after a millennium.
Naus tilted his head to bow, unsheathed his sword and wrenched his blade through her. He felt it all, the swing, the cutting, tearing motion of it, but somehow it didn’t happen. When he looked, the sword had barely cleared its sheath, certainly hadn’t rend Noctiluca in two. He could feel his arms still moving but so slowly.
You don't want to do this, Naus.
‘Yes, I do.’ He struggled to move even an inch.
You don’t want to kill me. Eleutheria, your Elle?
‘You aren’t her,’ he spat. ‘Don’t say you are. You’re a cruel shadow, a shade. You’re a corruption of her.’
She reached out, touched his coarse cheek with her long talons. With a human woman it might have been tender, a caress. From her, it made Naus shudder. She liked to play with her victims, he remembered. He dreaded to think what she had done to her playthings over the centuries. Remember you chose this. I was willing to start afresh. The commanding tone returned. You want to slow down, Naus. You want to slow down, until you’re almost not moving at all.
She was inside his head with her commands; he could feel the coercive power of her words penetrate his mind. He had no defences to this. No one did, no one except maybe Totelun.
This is what coercion really means.
How could you possibly defend against her, how did you fight her? He had found out so much, but not this crucial information.
You want to stop, Naus.
He did. He stopped completely, his blade hovering halfway between them. His body was no longer his own. He had been a fool to come here. She could do anything she wanted.
Anything.
You want to turn that sword around.
Naus twisted the blade in one hand.
Now place it against you stomach.
The sword moved against his will, except now his will was her will. The sharp tip touched his abdomen.
What, no humour now?
Naus had nothing left to say. If Eleutheria still lived she wouldn’t have killed him, but she was dead.
Only Noctiluca remained.
His nose was bleeding, dripping scarlet across his shaking lips. He struggled, trying to fight it. He succeeded only in quivering like a leaf on a tree.
You cannot fight me, Naus. Although I appreciate your effort. This is the time of reckoning, my love. I’m so glad you found me again, that we were able to speak once more before the end.
Naus was shaking like he was throwing a fit. His body rebelled against the vice grip it was held in. His head shook back and forth, but he could never quite look away. He stared into those ancient pits and lost himself.
I knew you would come back, I knew you could not possibly resist. You are a fool Naus, you always were. And now, you will die.
He roared in effort. Gasped. Just a second was all it would take to end her, yet she had him in her powerful embrace.
Yes, now thrust the blade into your stomach.
Naus resisted. His face contorted, fighting itself, fighting her. He wouldn’t do it. He wouldn’t.
Do it, Naus. You want to end it all. You are weary. Just like I am. More so. End the torment, end the sorrow, end the loneliness.
He wasn’t lonely anymore, though. He had purpose again. He had to stop her. But he was weary, so weary. He had lived ten times that which any man should endure. He was tired.
Just a small cut, twist and pull. And it will all be over.
He roared in defiance. ‘No!’ But he had nothing more to give.
Yes. Now.
He felt the blade move, just a little cut, then deeper and deeper into his gut. ‘No,’ he said, softer.
And twist.
‘No.’ Just a whisper. He twisted.
And pull.
Naus pulled, yanking the blade through his intestines. He dropped to the ground in front of her, blade clattering away. Hot blood and bile flowed out across the steps as Naus curled up around his mortal wound. He slid from the first step, rolling over and over, down the dozen stone stairs, crumpled and defeated.
He cursed Eleutheria.
He cursed Noctiluca, as his life’s blood left him.
He had been a fool to come here, and now all was lost.
With Naus’ l
ast breath, he whispered Totelun’s name, invoking the one who would avenge his death.
Noctiluca stood vigil over him until his shuddering body became still.
Chapter Forty Five
Totelun
A hundred strong battlewing burst from the waterfall as one, pilots and their mounts roaring with excitement. They swept into the ravine surrounded by the raging falls on all sides. Totelun could hear the cacophonous beats of their wings over the sound of the water. He stayed with the group, driving Shenkhi onward; he could see Kasimir ahead of him in the flock, driving his squad ahead and up.
He was shocked as he grasped the scene; tentacles the size of tree trunks descending into the crevasse, hundreds of them. The Celestial was high overhead, its tendrils like a forest, stretching up to the storm clouds above. Each was a translucent blue, with a muted glow. A monster made of a thousand whipping, stinging snakes.
Totelun fought against the wild and punishing wind, trying to stay steady and keep up with the group. He looked over his shoulder; Cassandra held on tight, feet in the secondary stirrups, hair rushing out behind them. She was armed with a collection of deadly sharp metal harpoons ready to deal as much damage as they could. Totelun realised he was not going to be able to communicate with her up here, he couldn’t shout instructions. It didn’t matter; he would hardly be heard over the wind and thunder even if she weren’t deaf.
She already knew what he was thinking most of the time. He just had to trust she would in battle.
Rain pelted down, sliding across his goggles as the rush of air dried them again in a constant struggle. At least he could see. He could feel Shenkhi’s excitement beneath his legs; the Thunwing dived and swept through the air with unabashed enthusiasm, keening loudly.
Through the writhing curtain of tentacles, Abrax appeared.
He wore a robe that Totelun realised was a Cleric’s, fluttering and snapping in the wind. His eyes blazed with blue flame. His voice was augmented somehow, clear and terrible over the storm.
Embrace of the Medusi (The Overlords Trilogy Book 2) Page 60