The Destroyer Book 2

by Michael-Scott Earle

  I yanked the plug out from the drain and then turned the frigid water back on, dunking my head underneath the downpour of cold to bring my mind back to Alatorict. I heard Alatorict saying something, but I could not make out the words. Eventually most of my body was numb and I pulled out of the stream.

  "You didn't hear me." He seemed slightly miffed.

  "No." I gave him a stare. I was annoyed that the water didn't somehow inform me of how I had gotten back into the castle or how I ended up having sex with Isslata and Vernine.

  "Have you broken your fast?" he raised an eyebrow.

  "Is this a social visit or do you want something specific from me?"

  "You look stressed, O'Baarni. I would have thought you would be a little more relaxed after the week you just enjoyed. Did you forget our appointment?" His smiled faded into a slight frown.

  My brain was still foggy and aching. I needed to get some answers out of Alatorict and while I didn't remember agreeing to meet with the man, this would be an opportunity to learn more about the empress's agenda. Forgetting our appointment was really the least of my memory concerns.

  "I have not eaten breakfast yet," I said.

  "Excellent. Let us take a walk. I have a favorite spot on my balcony that I think you will enjoy. The servants will then have time to clean and air out your suite." The man laughed and then stood up, walking out of the bathroom and into my main room. "I believe your clothes are still in this dresser," he called out.

  I pulled myself out of the cold water and grabbed a nearby towel, drying off as I walked into the bedroom. Alatorict opened the balcony doors all the way and was sitting at my small table and looking out toward the beaten city. There was a score of dirty plates haphazardly balanced on the ledge of the table, leaning up against more than twenty empty bottles of wine.

  The clothes that the king's tailor made for me were folded expertly in my drawers. I quickly pulled on the undergarments, pants, and one of the thick red tunics. Then I grabbed the polished leather boots at the bottom of the dresser and slipped them on over silk socks. The attire fit like a second skin and I didn't miss the threadbare servant's uniform I had been wearing for the last week.

  "Ready?" the Elven asked after I finished putting on the footwear. I nodded and he gestured to the door. "Leaving," he said after a loud knock to alert his warriors. There were four Elvens outside of my room, all women in form-fitting leather armor and knee-high plate boots. They eyed me with a combination of nervousness and curiosity when I stepped out into the corridor.

  "Tell them to give us an hour on Nadea," Alatorict commanded one of the guards. She nodded and left down the corridor toward the west. "Get a servant to clean his room," he said to another guard, who saluted and followed down the hall.

  "This way." He pointed down the hallway to where Nadea and the duke's rooms had been and began walking. The Elven warriors took position behind me as I followed him.

  He led me to the duke’s old quarters, which I should have expected since they were the nicest in the wing. My room was large enough for me, but the duke’s chambers were easily six times the size, with multiple rooms connecting to a main living area. The furniture was elaborately crafted. Thick, dark wooden posts formed a massive bed, dressers, tables and chairs. Lavish red and purple rugs covered the polished marble floors, and as I walked past the bathroom entrance I could see that the tub was large enough to fit five people.

  Most of the desks and dressers had maps and thick leather-bound books resting upon them. I glanced at the drawings, but my mind must have still been fuzzy from whatever affliction affected my memory, as none of the designs or landmasses looked familiar.

  "Out here." The balcony wrapped around most of the castle wall. The position gave a breathtaking view of the oak-dotted hills, river, and a part of the city. A fine layer of soupy fog was struggling against the sun's early morning heat.

  Three human servants were organizing place settings at the attractive wood table in the center of the balcony. Two other servants carried a covered tray that looked like it contained enough food to feed myself, Alatorict, the guards that had followed us to the balcony, and the five humans. The lid couldn't conceal the scent of the meat, fruit, and pastries from my sensitive nose. I felt my stomach grumble with regret from the dinner it had lost this morning.

  "You may leave," Alatorict said to the humans when the servants had finished setting the table. The two that carried the tray of food looked around confused for a second, then set the container down on the edge of the table, bowed, and quickly left with the others. They had relief plain on their faces when they departed. I sat down and watched as Alatorict lifted the lid and the scent of the eggs, bacon, fowl, fruit, and pastries assaulted my nose.

  "Our hunters have been quite successful. The weather in Nia allows for farming and gaming through all seasons." He piled a dish full of steaming meat and handed it to me. "The hills to the south create amazing crops of grapes and excellent wine, perhaps not as well as the vineyards of Brilla, but good enough for our needs. Will you pour?" He nodded over his shoulder at the bottle on the table while he put food on his own plate.

  My hand grasped along the cool neck of the wine bottle and I fought against the desire to smash the thick glass into the back of his head. Instead, I poured it into the tall glasses set before us. He thanked me sincerely before taking his seat across from me.

  The breakfast was delicious, but I hardly noticed at the speed I ate. The silver-haired Elven had only taken a few bites by the time I sucked down the food on my plate and went for a second course. I expected him to make a comment about my appetite, but he spent the rest of the meal gazing out across the hills, sampling each small forkful like it was an exquisite dining experience. We continued this way for ten minutes.

  "Do you ever wonder about history?" he asked after he pushed his half-eaten plate away and directed his attention back to me.

  "What do you mean?" I said around a mouthful of eggs. I had almost finished all of the food that they brought out to the table and my stomach felt like it could hold more.

  “What I mean is—“

  Loud boot steps interrupted him. Someone walked from behind me and joined the other two guards on the far side of the balcony. As Alatorict glanced over my shoulder, a brief flash of anger passed over his face before it smoothed back to his normal calm.

  "What I mean is: Is it factual or something created?" He took a sip of his wine and waited for my answer.

  "Factual," I blurted out. The answer seemed obvious. History was fact, stories and myths were created. The sun had won over the fog and was heating the cold stone of the balcony.

  "So you would say that every memory that you have is accurate?"

  "The memories I can recall." I poured myself a glass of water, my headache was coming back.

  "But isn't history made up of memories?" He raised an eyebrow. He was leading me somewhere and I wondered if it was a path I wanted to walk down with him.

  "Of course."

  "Tomorrow, when asked, you, my guards, and I will have a memory of this breakfast. Correct?"

  I nodded.

  "Will they all be the same?"

  I shook my head slowly.

  "No. They will be from different perspectives. And like you said, some memories you might not recall. I doubt I'll be able to remember exactly how many mouthfuls of food I just ate, and I'll never guess the amount you consumed." He smiled.

  "What are you getting at?" I asked.

  “Those details are unimportant, but there are other things about this conversation that will be forgotten, twisted or changed depending upon who is recalling the memory. Do you agree?”

  I considered before answering.

  “History may be inaccurate, since it is written from memories,” I said.

  "Exactly. How old are you, O'Baarni?" He drained the glass of wine and then held it out to me while he looked at the bottle on the table.

  "Does it matter?" I looked at the empty glass for a
second, my eyes following the small drop of red liquid at the bottom of the crystal.

  "You look young. Just an observation, I don't mean to pry. I understand your aging slows significantly when you are gifted with the Elements."

  "I don't really remember." The truth would only confuse him. I smiled carefully at him and poured his glass full of the wine.

  "Ahh. You have been with the Elements long then?" I shrugged and drained the rest of my water. "When were you gifted?" I saw his eyes dart over my shoulder at his guards for a second. It seemed the Elvens had become much more familiar with our process for empowering humans while I slept. We never called it gifting, but the term made sense to me.

  "I have lost track of how old I am."

  "You look quite young. But I imagine that you have problems remembering your early childhood, or even things that happened a few years ago." He smiled at me again.

  "You have no idea." I returned his smile sarcastically.

  "It is a human trait, one that even gifting doesn't really resolve. But the Elvens are different, as I am sure you know. We have excellent memories and recall details without error." He looked to the hills again.

  "I am starting to bore of you, Elven. Get to the point."

  “My point is simply to make a comparison. We can still make errors, but our memories are more accurate than yours. This is not an opinion or judgment, but simply a fact of design. But even we run into the issue of perspective. Even our records can be corrupted by those who record them. Perhaps it is impossible for anyone to truly know unadulterated history. I do not mean to bore you, in fact, this is the most interesting dialogue I have ever had with one of your kind.”

  He grabbed the bottle and tilted it toward my glass, filling it after I nodded slightly.

  "Which clan are you from?" He met my eyes.

  "You mentioned a few days ago in the dungeon that you had a guess. Tell me." I leaned back in the chair and raised my wine glass before sipping it. If this asshole wanted to fence words with me, maybe I could get him to reveal something useful.

  "Before I spoke to you, I guessed Thayer. His sons tend to fumble around rather clumsily, killing and smashing anything that disagrees with them, with as much finesse as an ox." I felt my stomach chill and my back broke out into an icy sweat. I remembered my breathing and let the Earth increase its flow through me. I picked a point on the hills and stared off into it, refusing to meet Alatorict's gaze.

  "Now that I have spoken to you, I would guess Malek's clan. You have this confidence that his family wears around their shoulders like armor. However . . ." he trailed off, leaning forward in his chair. "There is the question of your name."

  I looked over at him but my head was hurting again. He wore a coy expression on his angular face.

  “Your name does not fit. None of your kind would ever call themselves Kaiyer.” I heard a sharp release of breath from the guards behind me, but Alatorict had my full attention now.

  "Oh?" I raised an eyebrow and tried to hold back my excitement. I was finally getting somewhere with the annoying man.

  “You must have a tremendous amount of hate, not only for us, but for your own kind. Perhaps you figured this outlier seed planet would have no memory of . . .” he paused. I realized he was struggling to say my name. It stuck in his throat, refused to come up, and fell back into his stomach. A brief flush of embarrassment crossed his face.

  "This world would not know of your Betrayer, our Destroyer. The clans did a good enough job cleaning up after him." My body was numb. It made sense for the Elvens to call me the Destroyer. Why would I be known as a Betrayer? I recalled the memory of the temple deep underground where I fought and killed Lemarti. I had admitted to doing something and she didn't believe me. What had I done? There were no voices inside my head. No memories. Only the emptiness of the hills, the annoying shower of Alatorict's colorful words, and the careful breathing of the three guards behind us.

  "Then I thought you might be one of Shlara's." I tried to keep my eyes from widening at the mention of her name, but I couldn't. "But Shlara's clan would never fraternize with our kind." He waited for me to reply but I didn't.

  “I am puzzled by you, O’Baarni. You wear no colors or animal totems, you call yourself by a name neither of our races would use to curse even their worst enemy, you possess an affection for the humans of this planet, and you exhibit a strong disgust for our race, yet are willing to spend a week holed up with two of our women.” I heard a sigh and some nervous scuffling from the guards. Alatorict’s eyes darted behind me and burned with malice. I guessed Isslata had been the late arrival and he did not want to order her to leave in front of the other soldiers.

  "Your guessing game is fun. What other clans might I belong to? Walk me through your logic,” I said to the man with a smile. The fire left his eyes and he grinned mirthfully. Alatorict thought of himself as intelligent and probably enjoyed explaining how his mind worked.

  "Not Gorbanni, you would proclaim your affiliation at once and you would have eaten this meal on horseback." I snorted my water and almost laughed. He smiled and continued. "Perhaps Alexia? But no, you wouldn't interfere with our conquest of this world." His mention of their invasion brought my thoughts back to the castle. To Nadea and Jessmei, to Paug's death.

  His statement made little sense to me. Alexia would have gladly interfered with the empress’s plans. She would have gone insane knowing that Elvens were attempting to enslave humans again.

  "Turnia's came to mind. But I prefer to think of them as Thayer's clan anyway. And again, you would have admitted as much when we first met," he continued, slender finger on his chin as he looked up into the blue sky.

  "I am done with this discussion now." The wine glass made a hollow ring when I set it down on the wood table. "Take me to Nadea." My head hurt again. It radiated down my spine and to my feet.

  "You know I can't allow that." He waved his finger in the air.

  I almost ripped the table off the floor of the balcony, grabbed the silver-haired bastard by his scrawny neck and shook him until his bones turned into jelly. Instead, I let out a long breath and glared at him.

  "Don't look so hostile, friend." His lips turned up, but the smile did not crease his cheeks or eyes.

  "I am not your friend. Fuck you. I'd rip your body into a thousand pieces, drink your blood out of this glass, and then piss you out into your empress's mouth before murdering her as well." The man shot to his feet and I felt magic rip from the ground and flow to him. I stood up a quarter second after him. There was no way that he could cast anything with me this close. I would kill him first or he'd roast himself. Three swords drew with one sound behind me.

  "Damn your words human!" His eyes began to glow bright yellow, and I tasted the air burning. "Our empress gave us life, made us her children. You disrespect her again, and you will die."

  "The only thing keeping you alive right now is Nadea. I will see her, or your empress will mourn all of her 'children' in the castle by the end of the day."

  He was silent as he regarded me. I couldn't make out his pupils or his thoughts past the magic in his body and the mask of anger he wore. The guardswomen slowly approached from behind. Their footsteps were too quiet to hear, but their hearts beat like galloping horses running in fear.

  Pull the Fire from him, rip it out of his body and destroy him.

  Entas's advice brought a memory to me like a scented wind delivers the smell of rain. I knew that I could take Alatorict's Fire from his body as easily as he took it from the Earth. I was about to do so when the light released from his eyes and I felt the power drain from him, filling the space between us with heat. He sighed and rubbed his temples.

  "Put those away." He waved to the women behind me. I heard them sigh in relief and ease their swords into their sheaths. "Please sit down again, O'Baarni." He motioned for the chair, but I remained standing. He didn't seem to notice as he sunk back into his seat with an exhausted breath.

  "Bring me the treaty scr
olls,” he ordered the guardswomen. He poured himself the rest of the wine and took a shaky drink.

  "The empress was going to discuss this with you. I'll just explain to her that you left me with no choice." He set the glass back on the table when Isslata handed him four tightly bound bundles of rolled parchment. She moved behind the silver-haired man and then gave me an unmistakable look of adoration. She wore tight leather armor and knee high boots under a thin cloak of blue silk. Her attire was similar to the other guards, but was embroidered with thread that matched her hair. Her heart was still beating wildly and a light sheen of perspiration allowed her skin to reflect the sunlight. She bit her lower lip and her hand absently stroked the hilt of her long sword. Our eyes made contact and she mouthed something to me that I didn't catch.

  "Four times," Alatorict said sadly. "My memory hasn't faded, O'Baarni. There are four of your forsaken treaties here. Each ends the same." He shook the bundles of paper and I looked at them confusion plain on my face.

  "Your people, and I don't care which clan you are or aren't from because all of you have had the same contribution over the last two thousand years, have made four promises to us. Each one copied down carefully on these scrolls, agreed to by your leaders, and signed by ours." He held up a scroll. "This is the most recent, made twenty years ago between the leaders of your clans and our empress. It promises us this world, just as all the earlier ones promised us a home. You know how it always ends, some of the O'Baarni show up on our world, just as you did. They claim that they are defending their humans, or other such nonsense. Then more of your kind appear and push on us until--"

  Alatorict must have read the confusion on my face. He stopped talking and looked at me in amazement, his mouth hung open, the next word dangling from his tongue.

  "I was wrong to engage in this conversation with you.” His face paled. "I have become too emotional. As you can imagine, this is a sensitive topic for me." I nodded and leaned back in the chair. I tried to piece the bits of what he revealed together. How long had I been sleeping? I knew nothing of a treaty. Was this something hidden in my memory? I couldn't imagine ever agreeing to make peace with the Elvens. I almost asked the obvious question, but then stopped myself. They carried all the leverage right now, and Alatorict had left me with more questions. I would have to be coy about my past until I spoke to Nadea.