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The Destroyer Book 2

Page 15

by Michael-Scott Earle


  Lemarti came in fast and straight at my abdomen while her partner cut across my right leg. Whereas before I had blocked Lemarti and tried to sidestep the man's blade, this time I dove forward toward her thrusting sword. It sunk into my stomach and exited the small of my back. The weapon missed my spine by a few inches but still inflicted a wound that would have killed a mortal human. My right hand closed around her wrist and my left arm swung at the man's head with as much strength and speed as I could muster.

  His blade ripped into my calf, shearing the muscle and digging into bone. But my weapon reached its target unchallenged. It cut his skull in half like an over ripe watermelon. Lemarti screamed in victory when her sword penetrated my gut, but it instantly turned into a shriek of horror she realized that I had killed her companion.

  She tried to yank her weapon out of my body, but I expected the movement. It was the last mistake she would make. My blade angled down at the tail end of my swing and took both of her arms off at the elbows. The limbs shot out blood and sprayed me in a waterfall of crimson. Her scream lasted less than another second before I pulled her sword out of my midsection and then slammed its point into her skull.

  My vision spun vertically, swam, and plummeted into near darkness. All I tasted was a mouthful of copper and the poison. I wanted to faint, but instead I crawled on my knees to the other side of the room, past the strange pedestal, and to the body of the other O'Baarni whose neck I had broken. With my last bit of strength, I took the head from her shoulders.

  I couldn't risk anymore of them finding me. Or Iolarathe. Or discovering that we had a daughter.

  The room had been beautiful before I arrived here. But now it was drenched in blood, ruined by violence, and its immortal caretaker was dead. My knees gave out from the poison and the side of my face dove into the cold stone tile. My skin burned and the cool smoothness helped comfort me. My chest tightened uncontrollably and I fought to catch my breath. I figured I would be unconscious soon. I should have felt remorse that I murdered three of my brethren. Fuck, one of them had even been someone close to me. But my only regret was that I would lose precious days on Iolarathe.

  Chapter 11-Kaiyer

  The surface of the Ovule pulsed for a split second before the familiar network of golden glowing lines flowed across the walls and ceiling of the chamber in a surprise of color. I looked at the knotted network of lines, braids, and ends but didn't find the world that the old Elven indicated. Was that because I stood in a different temple?

  My eyes drifted slowly around the roots as I examined them. I gleaned information about each shimmering dot as my eyes set upon it. One planet was mostly water, only able to support a small population of humans and Elvens. Another had tremendous weather patterns, and a larger proportion of humans to Elvens. Some had moons that affected their tides or their rotation.

  My head filled with the memory of enormous spheres of blue, green, and brown spinning in black space, dotted with the far off glare of millions of stars. Iolarathe’s trail had grown cold by the time I recovered from the effects of the poison. I wanted to learn everything I could from the old Elven, but his death forced me to spend countless hours alone with the strange glowing orb. I recalled attempting to tease out its secrets as I had struggled to understand magic. Finally, I gave up, left the dead device in the desecrated temple, and followed the Elven woman.

  Why did I chase Iolarathe? What fueled my obsession? It seemed we had created a child, but I did not know when the conception had occurred. Was it before she murdered my father and brother? When we met before the last battle and she asked me to surrender, to run away with her, did she know then she carried our child? Why didn’t she tell me? Did I ever meet the girl? The questions bounced through my head while the Ovule bounced from point to point across the webbed star map.

  Shlara and my other commanders were pursuing me, and I knew that Lemarti's group was part of their plan. I couldn't remember anything about the woman, except that she had been my bodyguard. Did they send others to capture me? What had I done to make an enemy of my best friends? My brain struggled to remember, but I only recalled the sounds of white gulls flying overhead, the gentle murmur of waterfalls as they fell off the edge of islands that floated in endless blue skies. Sudden fatigue made my muscles ache. I was tired of running and working. I wanted to go back to the dreams where my mind was free to roam without the heavy weight of my body and its struggles.

  "She said she would find another Ovule. She said that the human rulers possessed one. She would steal it and return here. The girl took the Radicle alone."

  It sounded like the old Elven’s voice, but I didn't remember him saying that to me when we spoke. Did I follow Iolarathe to human settlements? I thought about Jessmei’s beautiful face, creased with worry while she waited for me to return with news of her father, brother, mother, Paug, and Nadea. She mattered now, this time mattered now.

  Eventually I would remember the mistakes I had made in my past, learn what I had done to incur the hatred of my friends, my fellow generals. What I had done that had prompted them to imprison me forever in a deathless sleep. In this present time, there was one thing I could do that might help atone for my past transgressions.

  “How many people can you send through the Radicle?” I wondered aloud, trying to determine the energy remaining in the device. The old Elven used the globe effortlessly. Not only was I unable to remember how to use it, I could not even remember if I had ever known how to use it. I hoped something here would trigger a new memory, or I could figure out the correct sequence of thoughts or movements needed to operate the Ovule through trial and error.

  The small sphere spun in my hand, with just enough friction to generate a mild warmth. I had been so mesmerized by the glowing patterns on the wall that I had not realized the images of roots and intersections projected there were reflections of the lines etched in the orb.

  Instead of seeking information about a planet, I focused on gleaning information about the Ovule from the device itself. It resisted at first, but I pushed a bit of power from the Earth through my body and into the small globe. I held back, the power, using only a little for fear of destroying it.

  Or it destroying me.

  Voices screamed and shouted in a familiar, yet incomprehensible language. Lean, strong men and women loomed over me, concern on their faces. They gathered around tables and poured hot, molten metal over—

  I screamed as I realized they were pouring the mercury over my own head. The pain was incredible and my body struggled to keep up with the healing. It was too much damage too quickly. The air filled with the scent of my burning skin and hair. I choked and gagged as the steaming metal flowed into my mouth and down my throat, silencing my protests with burning quicksilver.

  They chanted something alien. I could feel them harness the power of the Earth and Air. The metal slid over my face to cover my cheeks and chin. It smothered me with its lava weight and my eyes sealed closed behind layers of the hard substance as it began to cool on the surface.

  I yanked my hand away and stumbled back over the stone bench. The light from the walls of the Radicle instantly became dark, leaving me enclosed in pitch blackness and silence.

  For a brief second I believed that the sudden darkness meant that I really did have a layer of metal over my skull. But then I noticed the purple glow from the rooms beneath me. I hesitantly reached my fingertips to my face and sighed when I touched my familiar skin. I tried to piece together what they were saying. The language felt familiar, but as I tried to translate, my head began to ache with the effort. I was pushing myself too hard. Greykin and the other men bent on rescuing the prince and queen were probably in the castle now so I couldn’t spend any more time with this magic. I needed to help them with the rescue attempt.

  Then I needed to get back to Jessmei.

  Then I needed to figure out a way to kill all these fucking Elven assholes.

  My eyes quickly adjusted to the dim light beneath me and I could make
out the smooth surface of the Ovule. The orb was slick, as if it were molten hot and liquid. I debated taking it with me, but I was unsure as to what would happen if I removed it from the pedestal. If I carried it with me in my pack it could be lost or stolen. I doubted anyone knew the location of this temple, or they would have already disturbed it and used or taken the Ovule. Even if someone knew of this place, I didn’t think any Elvens would be able to make it past the wurm monsters.

  I felt confident that I could return to this room many years from now and it would be as I left it. I took one last look at the Ovule as I climbed down the stairs back toward the doorway that would take me out of the temple. The cold stone tables stood as silent sentries to my passing and their presence reminded me of the place that Paug, Nadea, Iarin, Greykin, and Jessmei woke me.

  There were many platforms here, this temple must have been made to send or receive many people to other planets. The cavern that had imprisoned me only contained one bench. Did Malek pick this world for a reason? I felt a strong desire to return to the jungles of Vanlourn and explore my resting place now that I remembered more about the Ovule and Radicles. I did not recall seeing an Ovule in my chamber, but at the time I awoke I was disoriented and did not even know what to look for.

  The door out of the temple opened easily and I peered out into the endless darkness. I didn’t spot any of the disgusting snake monsters, but that wasn’t conclusive. The mist climbing from the underground river was so thick that someone could stand twenty feet from me and I wouldn’t see them. I inhaled deeply through my nose, searching for the decayed, putrid odor that radiated from the foul creatures. I smelled only the dampness, crumbling stone, and fungus that made up the general scent of the underground.

  I jumped across the endless void above the mists and grabbed onto the edge of the bridge that dangled over the entrance to the door, then I flipped myself over the ledge to land on top of the rickety structure. I cautiously retraced my steps through the network of support pillars until I came back to the spot where the spider-like wurm had tossed me off and separated me from Greykin. The stairway where they had fled looked undisturbed, so I set off after them. It had probably been an hour since we parted, but it was hard to tell for sure, the flashes of memory always disrupted my concept of time and reality.

  I ascended the stairs through a few twists and paused to take another breath. I didn’t detect anything rancid, so I assumed the serpents hunted elsewhere. I was glad I wouldn’t have to encounter anymore since I had lost both of my swords and didn’t want to risk using magic on the narrow stairway. My mind floated away as I fantasized about a herd of wurms tearing into hundreds of Elven soldiers on a battlefield. One of the steps crumbled beneath my foot and I silently berated myself for daydreaming about Elvens being eaten by monsters.

  My army must have missed some of the Elven fuckers. It would have been difficult to kill all of them. When Thayer and I escaped with our small band of humans, we wandered the world for many years, hiding in caves and forests, dodging Elven patrols until we grew skilled enough at fighting to mount an offensive. Perhaps these Elvens did the same and had waited for a time when the O'Baarni forgot their magic and grew complacent.

  Once I finished ridding my planet of their kind, I would use the Radicle to travel to other planets. I would free humans from their servitude across all these worlds.

  I would start on the world where my daughter had been sent. Of course, I didn’t really know how long I had slept, but if there was any chance that she still lived I would find her. Then I would free her from whatever slavery she endured. The old Elven said that humans were once masters of the Elvens and he indicated to me that it was a benevolent care. He had never seen what happened on a world where the roles were reversed. He never watched his people raped, murdered, enslaved, or used as beasts of burden. Nor did he have to live with hate driving every muscle of his body. Nor did he wake up and think of revenge each day.

  I reached the top of the stairs and it spread out into a canopy of thick stone tiles. I saw chalk marks on the ground and smiled with relief. Then I picked up the trail after Danor, Greykin, and the other men. I had traveled thousands of yards away from the glow of the temple below and the darkness enveloped my sensitive eyes to where I could only see half a foot in front of me. Luckily, I still carried my pack on my back and the spare torches it contained. I pulled one out and used the power of the Earth and Wind to bring it to life. After its warm glow illuminated the space, I listened for noise from my friends, wurms, or any other possible creatures that dwelled down here. I heard nothing threatening, so I continued to follow the faint chalk line.

  The trail led me to a stout iron ladder that ascended past the scope of my vision. It was dusty and red with rust. On closer examination, I noticed hand prints had disturbed the layer of dirt on the bars. If the rungs were strong enough to hold Greykin’s massive frame, I figured I would be safe climbing up, even though the metal looked as if it might crumble in my grip.

  As I climbed, I wondered how the castle had been assembled upon the support beams, temple, and voluminous underground network of caverns. Did humans build it, or Elvens? How many years did it take to construct? I did not recall seeing any Elven structures of this size during my military travels across the world, so I guessed that it may have been constructed by humans during the period after I had been entombed. Paug once told me that the history of the giant fortress was so ancient and that ownership passed through so many different hands that it was impossible to know who had originally created it or its exact age.

  If it was built after I had been entombed, then I must have slept for a very long time.

  My heart and head felt heavy as I realized all of my friends were surely dead, and they had died hating me. I would never have a chance to apologize to them. I could never make it right. And I would never meet my daughter. Even if I found the world Iolarathe had sent her to, thousands of years had passed. She had surely perished, hopefully of old age. Hopefully after living a free and happy existence on a world without slavery. A world I had devoted my life to securing for her. But I would never know what she had endured.

  Soothing breezes, floating islands, large white birds fly by, and I’ll allow the calm sound of water to relax me forever.

  I let out my held breath and then took another to relax my fears. The iron of the ladder felt rough and I wrung my hands around the edges of it to help pull my consciousness back to the task at hand. Jessmei and Greykin needed my help, and while I didn’t care that much for Nanos, or his mother, they were important to the princess and the Old Bear. Rescuing them would piss off all the Elvens who had sacked the castle. Any deed that would upset Elvens was worth doing.

  The ladder turned into a massive metal grate with a small door attached by a hinge the size of my fist. The hatch was open, but I listened carefully to make sure I didn’t hear anything. Once I was satisfied, I ascended through the portal and into the smooth stone tunnels of the sewers that I imagined ran from the giant spider fortress that sat atop of Nia's capital city.

  There were more chalk lines leading off to my right. I closed the door at my feet so that someone didn’t accidently fall down into the massive chamber. Then I set off after the chalk marks, hoping that I would catch up with them before they entered the castle.

  Did Greykin have a strategy for the rescue attempt once they were inside the castle? I had made many mistakes on this mission, but the most obvious was not asking anything about the plan before agreeing to help. Even without a specific strategy, I could easily handle any humans I came up against, and the Ancients of today seemed weaker than any one of the hundreds of thousands of their vermin ancestors I had exterminated in my other life. As long as I was not grossly outnumbered, I could grab Nanos and his mother and walk out through the front door, killing anyone, human or Elven, who tried to stop us.

  The chalk line made a sharp turn into a narrow hallway, but the line was then smudged out and continued in another direction. They must
have journeyed down this route, determined that it didn't lead into the castle, and moved onward. I walked for another half hour, past two more branching hallways that they had investigated, until I found a mark that was not crossed. I believed I had only spent an hour or so in the temple of the Radicle, but it must have been longer, or I would have caught up with them by now.

  The smaller side tunnel took me to another ladder that led up forty feet to a wooden trap door. There used to be a lock on the latch from the bottom, but it had grown rusty and been broken by a hammer blow. I pushed on the hatch, winced at the loud screech the hinges made, and then moved into the dark passages of the dungeon.

  I had not spent much time exploring the dungeon. My training area was technically in the dungeon, but I could access it without venturing into the darker parts of the underground. Paug mentioned that the jails were vast, but I did not imagine they could be any larger than the caverns and sewer system through which we had traveled.

  The chalk marks led me away to what felt westward, but I was so disoriented from the spelunking that I could only guess at the direction. Unlike the markings made in the dank tunnels below, these were confident and sure. I suspected that either Danor or Greykin knew this territory. I walked for another quarter of an hour past cells that were only occupied by rats and metal bed frames that looked like tortured skeletons. The air was musty, undisturbed, and reminded me of the temple of my memory where I met the ancient Elven and learned of Iolarathe’s plan.

  The path carried me up to a wide stairwell that led up to the next floor. I expected some of the pens to be occupied by prisoners captured by the Loshers, but the cells I passed were empty and surprisingly tidy. Even with my keen ears, I sensed only my quiet footsteps, the hiss of the torch, and the occasional scurry of a rat.

 

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