by Mike Truk
“You had faith in me. And that is what made all this possible. We couldn’t have done any of this without you.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “I hate that I need you to say such things. I’m supposed to be… I’ve always been strong.”
She pulled her hand away, wiped at her nose, and stared down into her lap. “Now I’m sitting here crying like a child, being reassured by the adults that I really am that special.”
“Valeria,” said Little Meow, voice gentle. “There isn’t enough strength in the whole universe to crush Lilith and her endless armies.”
“And that’s the pity of it all,” said Valeria softly, staring fixedly at her plate.
“No,” said Little Meow. “To say that is to misunderstand this entire conflict. Our greatest weapons against her aren’t our blades and fireballs. It's our hearts, our love, our faith, our trust.”
Valeria frowned at her. “Faith and trust wouldn’t have defeated all the enemies we’ve fought.”
Imogen leaned forward. “Do you think we’ve come this far because Noah’s been the most physically capable of all the Saviors?”
“Hey now,” I said. “You weren’t complaining last night.”
She thwapped me without looking away from Valeria. “Seriously. Some of our greatest heroes and warriors were chosen to be the Saviors and companions before by the Source. Pelleas Lightbringer himself, and look how he fared.”
“He reached Malkuth,” said Valeria, tone sullen.
“And there failed. Physical and magical might isn’t enough. Do you think they would have helped us win through the challenges of the Manifold?”
Valeria’s grimace deepened into a scowl, and she pushed away from the table to rise to her feet. “Yes, I know what you’re saying. Unfortunately, strength is what I’ve always relied on, and now suddenly it’s not worth anything, so my apologies for being frustrated. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go work on my faith and trust so I’m not dragging the group down.”
And with that, she strode out of the room.
I sat back. “That went well.”
“Hmm,” said Little Meow, turning back to the table. “We’re all under a lot of strain. One day spent relaxing won’t undo the wounds we’ve suffered.”
“We need to do something about her bitterness,” said Imogen.
“Doesn’t help that she’s right,” said Brielle, voice soft. “Without wards, without the ability to hurl magical attacks, she’s forced to depend on the strength of her arm, and that’s rapidly becoming irrelevant in the fights we’re going into.”
I thought of Valeria falling before the spear of light hurled by the Ur-Gharab guards, nearly dying before she could even close with their line. For Emelias to have ignored her crossbow bolt so dismissively had been a far greater blow to Valeria’s confidence than I’d imagined.
Had he set that up on purpose?
“Then we’ll have to level her up,” I said.
“Level her up?” asked Brielle. “What are you talking about?”
“Um, term from back home. It means to help her break through to the next power…. Level?”
“Yes,” said Imogen. “I’ll try some one-on-one sessions with her, see if we can’t deepen her grasp of Muladhara. Being able to hurl some manner of magical attack will do wonders for her self-esteem.”
“And I’ll try to talk to her,” I said. “Alone. She’s less prickly when it’s just the two of us.”
“I’ll keep on insulting her,” said Brielle. “It would throw her off too much if I started being nice.”
Emma punched Brielle lightly on the shoulder, and the princess laughed. “What? This is a wondrous example of maturity and psychological growth! I’m acknowledging what I bring to the table, and making sure to help others with my unique gifts.”
“Brielle, making people feel warm and fuzzy since Day 1,” I said with a grin.
“I’ve sure made you feel some manner of feelings,” said Brielle, her gaze growing wicked.
“That might be my cue to leave,” said Little Meow, dropping her napkin on her plate. “Not going to compete in that arena! Ha-ha. Um.”
“Awkward,” said Imogen, tone deadpan, then grinned and grabbed Little Meow by the arm. “Sit down.”
“So, serious question,” I said. “How banged up are we? I mean, we can’t even get through a dinner together right now. We ready for our journey across Ur-Gharab?”
“I think so,” said Emma. “I’m not an expert, but…” She shrugged. “We’ve been banged up, yeah? I mean, obviously. But I feel like, on some deeper level, we’re more solid, more connected than we’ve ever been. Like a lot of the nonsense has been cleared away, and we just trust each other more, even if we’re still hurting.”
All nodded.
“And we need to explore what new capabilities we now have via our sanctums,” said Imogen. “We never had a chance before, but with Neveah bonding with you back in Tagimron, we’ve finally merged into a true circle. And that in turn could help us heal, draw us closer.”
“Speaking of which, we need to try and cleanse Neveah’s sanctum,” I said. “It’s fucked up in there. And the fact that she can keep functioning with that amount of corruption within her is… astounding.”
“She is astounding,” said Little Meow softly. “I’ve never met someone so…”
We all sat in silence, trying to find the right words to describe Neveah.
“Yeah,” I said at last. “But she needs help. That darkness is inside her, and Lilith clearly knows the summoning phrase. The moment one of her servants uses it against us, we’re all…”
“Fucked,” said Brielle.
“Fucked,” I said.
“We will need her permission to help,” said Imogen. “Nothing can be done without her being willing to tackle that corruption. I’ve some knowledge in the matter, though nothing that pertains directly. But what we underwent back in Ghogiel with my own parasite might be of use.”
“We needed Salathis to get it done, though,” I said. I winced at the memory, of the oath I’d broken, of Lizbeth and Sarah.
“Then perhaps we need to find a new Salathis,” said Emma. “And compel him to heal Neveah.”
“I don’t know.” I rubbed my jaw. “What they did to her, it took a dozen really powerful servants of Lilith. I don’t know if any one person can undo it.” Then, realizing what I was saying, and how dark and depressing it sounded, I forced myself to sit upright. “But we have to try. And maybe the fact that we’re now bonded means that as a group we can try a cleansing.”
“Agreed,” said Imogen. “I’ll give it some thought. Little Meow, can we talk about it later? I’m sure Anahata will be involved.”
“Of course,” said Little Meow.
A knock sounded on the double doors, which were shoved open as before to reveal Emelias and Isossa.
“Do we interrupt?” asked our host. “We interrupt. Alas, but civil punctilios must be sacrificed when a regent issues a summons. Are you ready, Noah Kilmartin?”
I stood, chair scraping away behind me, and placed my hand on Shard’s pommel.
Did Emelias wince?
“I am,” I said.
Imogen also rose to her feet. “He won’t go alone.”
“My apologies,” said Emelias, bowing low over his arm in an exaggerated fashion. “Only the Savior has been summoned.”
“I won’t go into the throne room,” said Imogen. “But I won’t allow Noah to travel alone in your presence.”
“Agreed,” said Brielle, rising to her feet.
Emma stood as well, as did Little Meow.
Emelias’s smile fell away from his face. “Everybody?”
“Yes,” said Neveah, emerging from an archway, Valeria a step behind her.
“Fine, fine. How tiresome. It’s as if you didn’t trust me with all your heart. Very well, gather your things, we must leave at once. Isossa?”
The Morathi lady stepped forth, dark clothing folded over one arm. “A suit fit for
a Savior. Get dressed, and we shall leave.”
I rubbed at my jaw, studying the elegant finery draped over her arm. “No, thanks. I’ll go as I am.”
Isossa raised an eyebrow. “You will need our regent’s favor if you are to succeed in your quest. It would be a foolish move to insult her by attending a private audience so garbed.”
“I’ll take the chance,” I said. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
I saw a flicker of emotion pass through Emelias’s eyes, then he smiled and shrugged. “Who knew the tenth Savior would prove so idiosyncratic? We have done our best, fair Isossa. You can lead an ass to water, and so forth. Shall we go?”
Tossing the clothing aside, Isossa turned back to the double doors and pulled them open, revealing a luxurious hallway from the palace beyond.
“Come,” said Emelias with a cold smile. “It’s impolite, perhaps even perilous, to keep a regent such as her Excellency Morgana waiting.”
Chapter 4
There was a minimum of pomp and circumstance. We traveled directly into the palace via our suite entrance, then down a hallway to a set of double doors.
There Emelias stopped.
“None may pass this portal but Noah,” he said, his tone ringing with finality. “Please do not press this issue.”
Valeria rolled one shoulder, eyes narrowed.
“But seeing as you all are so enamored with being difficult, I will say this: Noah’s safety is assured, and if you do not believe that, then we can return to my estate until you are ready to proceed.”
“I’ll go alone,” I said.
“Wise man. We shall await you here.”
“Good luck,” said Imogen, squeezing my hand.
“Noah doesn’t need good luck,” said Brielle. “He makes his own.”
I gave them all a tight smile and pushed the doors open. A small chamber lay beyond, intimately lit by soft candlelight, the floor covered with layered carpets, the rear half elevated to a dais that was positively smothered in cushions. The walls were hidden behind drapes, and a small chandelier hung from the gilt ceiling, from which a dozen candles burned.
“She shall attend you presently,” said Emelias. “You know how it is. Regents refuse to be the party kept waiting.”
I entered, and the doors closed behind me. Moving forward, I took my time studying the room, searching for traps, wondering if it would be too gauche to look behind the drapes. I was about to do so, manners be damned, when a form began to materialize upon the cushions.
A moment later, Regent Morgana lay there outstretched, utterly at ease. I held still, unsure of myself; I’d expected her haughty and distant upon a crystal throne, not looking as if I’d interrupted her in her private quarters.
There was no denying her beauty, and my mind began to run to what sports could take place upon those cushions, only to belatedly realize that no doubt that was the direction she wished my thoughts to go.
The corners of her darkly painted lips quirked into a smile. The expression released me by arousing anger and resentment within my breast.
I’d come too far, suffered through too much, to be so easily seduced, no matter how powerful or beautiful.
“Greetings, Noah Kilmartin, Tenth Savior of etcetera, etcetera.” She waved toward the cushions arranged before her dais. “Take a seat.”
It felt churlish to insist on standing, so I moved forward slowly, examining her openly. She wore a shifting collection of diaphanous veils that revealed her form while imparting upon her a glimmering and seductive mystery. She was all hips and angular shoulders, long, tapering legs, and black hair gleaming in the candlelight. Her pale cheekbones were burnished with a dusting of bronze, while dark wings of mascara spread from each eye, emphasizing their piercing beauty. A musky scent hung in the air, feminine and alluring.
Was she trying to seduce me?
I sat, cross-legged, and assumed the easy posture of countless hours spent meditating; straight back, chin slightly lowered, wrists resting lightly on my knees.
“We can dispense with all the usual formalities, you and I.” Her voice was a shadowy purr. “I am a regent, you the current Savior. Perhaps, cosmically speaking, we are equals, though you are but recently come to your title, whereas I… I have been a regent for far, far too long.”
Old Noah would have spoken up. I could feel the urge to do so even now, to make conversation for the sake of being… compliant? Even liked?
But I’d been through too much shit to care. So I sat there, watching her, gauging her.
And being gauged in turn.
She stirred, and I was reminded of a serpent shifting its coils, though she simply adjusted how her cheek rested on her palm. “These meetings are always at their most awkward the first time. You believe we have nothing in common. You see me as an obstacle to be circumvented or destroyed. You wonder why I’m wasting your time, and how best to detect my ploys, to sense from where my attack will come.”
“You met the other three Saviors?”
“I did. They all sat before me as you are doing now. Each wildly different from the last. Pelleas, with his golden hair and self-righteous sneer. Jevenna, who had suffered so terribly in reaching Ur-Gharab, and was so greatly reduced. And wise, dissembling Obui, so like a monkey, so kind and charming. Alas. And now here you are, Noah. The fourth to have come this far. Well done.”
“Only Pelleas made it to Malkuth,” I said. “Or so Emelias said.”
“He spoke truly. And how annoying that was, for the most arrogant, disdainful, and insulting of you all - the first, no less - to be the only one to pass through my sphere. But in the end, his fate was like that of the others.”
“Are you saying every Savior ended up like him?” I leaned forward. “A lich in service of your bitch queen?”
“Bitch queen?” Morgana’s eyes widened in delighted surprise. “So he has some bark to him! But yes, she is my queen, and oh yes, she is the universe’s most sublime, most holy, most reverential bitch. I would cut my heart out for her if she asked it, knowing full well that she’d as likely discard it as use it for some worthwhile purpose.”
“How can you serve her?” I asked. “Lilith wants to destroy everything. Wants to destroy the universe. How can you help her?”
“Oh, my dear, dear Noah.” Her smile was indulgent, patronizing, fond. “Is that how you see all this? An evil woman seeking to destroy the universe for… what? Spite? An attack of hysteria?”
“Doesn’t matter,” I said. “What matters is that the universe must be saved. I’m not saying it’s not a fucked-up place, that there isn’t evil in it, injustice, whatever. What I’m saying is that it’s worth fighting for, and that makes her worth stopping.”
“Hmm.” She raised a cup of wine from between her cushions and swirled it. “‘The world is a fine place and worth fighting for.’ I see that line in your mind. A book you read, but which you’ve forgotten.”
But at her words, the prose came back, even as I startled, trying to figure how to close my mind. The world is a fine place and worth fighting for, I’d read in Hemmingway’s For Whom the Bell Tolls. But she’d left out the last bit: and I very much hate to leave it.
She’d meant for me to remember those last words. Was this some next level intimidation tactic?
“Oh, relax, you can’t keep me out while having this conversation. Not that there’s anything that special in there. Here’s a secret you learn pretty quickly once you begin to travel up the circles of Sahaswara - you can’t learn all that much about a person from their memories, or even their thoughts. Everything is unreliable and curated, sometimes distorted to the point of invention. Oh, you get a general gist, but their true nature? That lies hidden, often from the person themselves, and will surprise the incautious practitioner of Sahaswara just when you think you’ve gotten them figured out.”
“Get out of my mind,” I said.
Her dark eyes gleamed. “Make me.” The moment grew tense as I began to rise from the cushion, then she laughed. “Oh
, very well. As a courtesy, I shall. But to return to Lilith - what do you actually know about her, Noah? Other than her being the universe’s greatest foe?”
“That’s all I need to know.” I forced my voice to remain steady. “And from everything I’ve seen of her followers - the monsters, both human and otherwise - that’s all I need to know.”
“Have you ever seen beauty in fire, Noah?”
I narrowed my eyes.
“It’s not a trick question.”
“Sure sounds like one.”
“Of course, you’ve seen beauty in fire. And if so, then you’ve caught a glimpse of Lilith’s beauty. And please, don’t worry. I’m not going to waste our time trying to convert you to her cause. I just want to give you a glimpse. Into who I am, and why I worship her. It’s for the same reason you’ve stared into the heart of a fire, mesmerized by what it does to its fuel. A force of nature. A cleansing agent.”
“Her agents don’t cleanse,” I said. “They pervert, they torture, they delight in pain and death.”
“True. Most of her servants do. But they’re simpletons. Does every soldier of the Source exemplify its deepest philosophies? No. Do I judge the Source by its rank and file? No. I seek to know its heart. And Lilith’s is simple. Breathtakingly so. She seeks to destroy the Source because she has no choice. She seeks to destroy the Source because it wills her to do so.”
I chuckled. “Nice. That’s some grade-A bullshit you’re serving up.”
“The universe is cyclical,” said Morgana. “It expands, reaches its apex, then contracts and reduces itself into a seed -”
“A birthstar,” I said.
She paused, and for the first time, I saw surprise cross her face. “Yes. A birthstar. Which Lilith nurtures into existence, creating a new Tree of Life in the process. Her role is mandated by the cycle, Noah. The Source cannot endlessly expand, growing ever thinner, ever more attenuated, until all life becomes stretched out; unable to exist, without enough reality to allow it to infuse itself into being. It needs to be culled. Reduced. Burned back to its source so that it can grow anew.
“The Source needs Lilith. Lilith is its dark mirror, its guardian, its mother. Without her eternal, cyclical assault, all would evaporate into a haze of endless white light. It is she that makes us possible, every time, by playing the role the Source gave her.”