by C. M. Carney
“The fourth Aspect was tasked with seeking our redemption. He returned to the Realms bearing our Lexicon. It was his purpose to ensure that the Lexicon came to you, if you were ever reborn in the Realms. If you were not, then we hoped the knowledge contained inside the artifact would one day be of use to the people of Korynn. A small reparation for the damage we had caused.”
“He was the Seeker that Eris murdered. The one that showed her how to enter this Realm.”
Herne nodded. “And not only her but also Aluran.”
“Shit!” Gryph thought, then realized he was clenching his fists and eased them open. If I live through this, I will have some words for Eris. Gryph returned his gaze to Herne. “And the fifth Aspect?” A surety filled Gryph, one that made his heart thunder in his chest, but he needed to hear Herne say the name.
“You have the answer to that question.”
“Lex,” Gryph said, eyes wide.
“Yes, he is our hope. Inside him lies the secret you seek, the secret to removing Aluran’s Godhead. And I hold the key to unlocking that knowledge.”
42
Lex’s muscles burned with exhaustion. The climb up the interior of the Archive had taken forever, half convincing him their escape was the punchline of some sick joke. An endless climb to nowhere. Was Cerrunos even waiting at the top of the tower? Sure, it seemed familiar to Lex, and Eris said they’d find him there, but none of them really knew, did they? If I make it to the top and Cerrunos is there, I’m gonna introduce my boot to his jumblies in a none so kind fashion, Lex thought. He sounded tough in his own mind, but not so much in the real world.
“I’m not going to make it. My arms are about to fall off.”
“Hold on for just a few more minutes friend Lex, for Errat is not tired at all.” The warborn reached back and hoisted Lex up by his rump, like a father hefting a piggybacking child into a more comfortable position.
“Shh, don’t say it so loud,” Lex said, flushing with embarrassment at being carried up the rope on Errat’s back. “This isn’t exactly dignified, and I don’t want the others to find out.”
They already have, Raathiel sent as she flew past them, wheeled up, flapping her wings so she could hover.
“You’re sharing this with them aren’t you?” Lex grumbled, slitted eyes staring daggers at the coatl.
“She is and we all think you’re doing great lil’ fella,” Vonn yelled down from above. “Ovrym says to keep up the good work.”
“You guys suck,” Lex said, as an image of Ovrym ascending far quicker than any one-armed man should filled his mind.
A few minutes later Errat and Lex reached the top of the Archive and Vonn helped pull Lex through a trapdoor in the ceiling. Lex collapsed onto his back, breathing heavily. After a few ragged breaths he looked around to find they were in an empty, circular space with a single spiral staircase leading up to another trapdoor.
“It’s locked,” Ovrym said, extending his good arm and helping Lex to his feet. “Even Vonn couldn’t pick it.”
“No handle, no hinges and no lock, so nothing to pick,” Vonn said with a shrug.
“Perhaps it's just waiting for Lex's magic touch,” Lex said with more confidence than he felt and walked to the base of the stairs. He looked up noting the curving stairs bore no railing or other safety devices. It’s like he doesn’t want visitors, Lex muttered to himself.
The NPC crouched low and ascended. His knees wobbled with the onset of acrophobia. This is your fault Cerrunos you bastard. I have no idea how, but it is. He struggled not to drop to all fours and crawl up the stairs. His ego had taken a heavy pounding already, and he'd be damned before he gave his friends further ammo to decimate it to ashes.
After a heroic twenty seconds of effort, Lex reached the circular portal to the next level. Raathiel flapped nearby, ready to pounce on anything that came through, while Vonn stood behind him, ready for action. Lex nodded to them and reached a hand out. As he got close, he felt a slight static wave on the door, like that on a fleece blanket removed from the dryer. The hairs on his fingers stood on end and a crack and a hiss filled the chamber.
Lex flinched back and the others readied various long-range attacks. The hatch hinged up and clanged open.
“Maybe daddy wants to see you after all,” Vonn said in a jestful whisper.
Lex threw an irritated glance at the rogue, before returning his attention to the door. He peeked his head up, eyes searching back and forth like prey seeking a predator.
The room above was a luxurious sitting room fit for a king. Or a god in hiding, Lex thought. He stepped up and turned a full 360-degrees. The room was much larger on the inside than the rest of the tower had been, suggesting some kind of spatial expansion. Tall bookshelves covered the walls, stacked full of thousands of books. Leather couches, and numerous desks with well-padded chairs filled the main part of the room. The savory aroma of fresh biscuits came to Lex’s nose
Bart stood in front of a large hearth, nudging embers to life with an iron poker.
“Ah, hello old friend. It appears you have repented your vile ways and taken back your course insults regarding the Great God Cerrunos, for you have been allowed into his wondrous presence. This pleases me.” He picked up a serving tray and walked up to Lex. “Biscuit?” He asked, offering the tray.
“Uh, thanks,” Lex said, picking up a biscuit. The pastry was hot and buttery, and it smelled delicious. Is it poisoned? His stomach gurgled, and he shrugged before taking a bite. “It’s fantastic. Thanks Bart.”
“You are most welcome friend. Would you help me serve the Great God Cerrunos? He is a mite bit peckish.”
“Yeah sure,” Lex said, looking around in confusion. “Where is he?”
*****
“Should have seen this one coming,” Lex muttered in annoyance as he looked down upon the skeletal remains lying inside the stone sarcophagus. “How long has Cerrunos been asleep?” Lex asked, having learned to not refer to the pile of bones that had, evidently once belonged to Cerrunos, as dead. At least not while Bart was in earshot.
“He closed his eyes a few minutes after I told him we would have visitors. He likes to look his best. Needs his rest you know.”
“Yes, obviously,” Lex said, nodding before casting a sideways glance at Vonn. “What the hell do we do now?” his heart sinking. He couldn’t feel Gryph, Aluran was probably climbing his way up the tower and Cerrunos, the only being in existence who knew how to remove a Godhead, wasn’t in a talkative mood.
A haze of fear hung over Vonn and he shrugged, for once keeping any snide comments to himself. That was almost more terrifying to Lex than Aluran. If Vonn was afraid, they were screwed. After a few more failed attempts to get any useful information from Bart, Ovrym suggested they search the room.
Lex walked to the nearest bookshelf and removed a book. He opened it at random and began to read. A moment later his face turned red, and he slammed the book shut. He returned it to the shelf and noticed Eris eyeballing him.
“Don’t read that,” the NPC said as if he was giving wise counsel. “Torrid Tales is the understatement of the century.” They wasted several more minutes searching shelves and opening drawers, when Ovrym chimed in.
“I may have something.” The xydai had been poking around in an alcove opposite the sarcophagus. The others rushed to find him holding an odd cube shaped device constructed from multiple plates of elementum, each one a different color. The six sides to the cube each bore a slot that held a blue diamond icon.
Lex took the odd device from Ovrym and turned it from side to side. He had no idea what the cube was, but knew it had to be important. The materials cost alone had to be staggering. Add in the incredible artistry and design and the object could finance a revolution. “What the heck is it?”
“It’s a Lexicon Matrix,” Eris said with certainty. “Empty by the looks of it.”
“How do you know that?” Lex asked.
Because she has seen one before, Raathiel sent.
&n
bsp; Eris nodded at the coatl and then turned to Lex. “This is what you were in when I found you.”
Lex almost dropped the matrix, whether in shock or despair, he couldn't say. Lex always knew that he wasn’t a ‘real boy,’ but holding proof of his lack of humanity in his hands was deeply disturbing. He opened his mouth, but despite a desperate desire to talk about his feelings, he found that he could not.
“You found me?”
“Yeah,” Eris said, a small whiff of guilt in her tone. “It was my first mission on entering the Realms.”
“Then there is this,” Ovrym said, doing his best to pull the attention away from the uncomfortable scene. Next to the chest where he’d discovered the empty Lexicon Matrix, was an odd machine that looked like a cross between an old printing press and a nuclear bomb movie prop designed by someone who knew nothing about nuclear bombs.
Lex walked up to the odd device. Amidst the wires and tubes was a recessed slot that looked to be the exact size of the matrix. With a bit of trepidation, Lex eased the cube into the slot, and the icons built into the device began to glow.
“What the hell is this thing?” the NPC asked, looking at Eris.
“No idea. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Few have,” a most unwelcome voice said from behind them. They all turned as one, drawing weapons and reading spells. “It’s a Soul Siphon, and it tells me exactly what you are Lex.” Standing near the open trapdoor, the throat of Bart the Seeker held in his hand, was Aluran, the High God of the Pantheon. “Or should I say Cerrunos. It is good to see you again, brother.” Aluran’s sinister smile did not match the welcome in his words. “We have much to discuss.”
43
A dozen emotions pushed through Gryph all vying for attention. Anger battled regret, amusement danced around the edges of confusion, relief settled atop fear. But it was determination that bubbled to the surface and demanded his attention.
“We need to get to him before Aluran does,” Gryph said.
“Yes, and I’m coming with you.”
Herne explained that he was the key required to unlock the knowledge buried in Lex’s mind. His sole purpose was to be this key, to carry Cerrunos’ last, desperate hope for redemption. It was why he’d been in hiding since the day Cerrunos split himself. He’d been waiting for someone to come, someone to help him make amends. He further explained that he’d been gifted with an awareness of every place in this Realm apart from the tower itself.
“When I learned you were once Ossyrion, I knew my chance had come,” Herne said. “I used what little influence I had left to take control of the bandersnatch alpha and sent it to your aid. The others followed the alpha’s lead. I was able to coerce the alpha into sending you here, but unfortunately I was unable to alter where the others sent Aluran.”
Gryph eyed Herne intensely. Can I trust him? Can I not? Here was the man, or part of him anyway, responsible for the biggest betrayal in the history of the Realms. Millions had died because of his cowardice. Herne’s tale of the suffering he and his fellow Aspects had experienced since Cerrunos’ treachery was horrific, but it was still a mere fraction of what they had wrought on the Realms.
Gryph stared into Herne’s eyes, proud to see the man hold his gaze steady. He saw true regret in those eyes and knew that no punishment he could levy on Herne would be worse than what Herne had already levied on himself. Gryph had seen his like before. Men so broken by guilt they wanted to be punished. And no punishment would ever be enough. But, perhaps that guilt can still do some good.
“Lex doesn’t know, does he?”
“No,” Herne said, hanging his head. “He is the only one of us who does not. We deemed it necessary to keep the memories of what we’d done, who we were, from him, otherwise he would lose all hope. And without hope, we would have no chance to make amends.”
Herne paused, took a bit of his stew and for several moments the only sound in the cavern was his methodical chewing. Finally, he spoke again.
“Lex’s ignorance will not protect him. It will not help him resist the High God’s power. Given time, Aluran will strip the knowledge of how to remove a Godhead from Lex’s mind, and leave nothing behind. Then he will come for you.”
“Our plan is simple then. We will get to Lex first, you will awaken his knowledge and then I will take away Aluran’s power.”
Herne smiled, a look of genuine hope filling him. “There’s something else you should know. Cerrunos was no soul mage, so when he split himself into the five Aspects, he had to choose one of us to carry the burden of his soul.”
“Lex carries Cerrunos’ soul,” Gryph said, as sure of it as he had ever been of anything.
“Yes.” Herne looked up, eyes locked on Gryph.
Gryph reached out to Herne and took the man by the shoulder. “I am sorry.”
Herne nodded and then spoke. “That surety you felt when you knew Lex possessed Cerrunos’ soul. It is not the first time you have known something when you should not, is it?”
“No,” Gryph said in a low tone. He had always been intuitive. His ability to find patterns amidst the noise was why he'd been such a good spy. But ever since he’d entered the Realms that ability had reached an almost psychic level. He just knew things, as if he was drawing it from … “The Aether. My mind taps into the Aether.”
Herne smiled, recognizing that Gryph’s intuitive leap had proven the point far more than words ever could. “Yes, but there is more to it.”
Gryph reached a tentative hand up to the middle of his forehead, the spot where his Prime Godhead had bonded with him on his entry to the Realms. Even though it was inactive here, he still sensed its power. “I bear the Godhead of Aether.” He turned back to Herne. “That is why I often know things I should not.”
“Yes. The Aether is everywhere and we who have borne its Godhead are far more connected to it than others, allowing information to come to us. It was how I knew the Princes of Chaos possessed the essential knowledge I needed to remove a Godhead. How I knew Morrigan would not rest until he possessed them all. How I know that you are our last chance to prevent him from tearing all the Realms apart in his quest to make one woman love him again.”
“Is this really all about one woman?” Gryph had seen the memory, knew Asheara died so that the thirteen of them would live.
“Yes. Morrigan became the best version of himself because of her love and the worst when he lost her.” Herne paused, pain and regret filling him. “If Aluran learns how to remove a Godhead, he will collect all thirteen of the Prime Godheads. When that happens…”
“He will become the Source,” Gryph said in shock. “And he will remake the Realms.”
“Yes,” Herne said, a look of deep fear flowing through him. “But that is not the worst of it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Even if he becomes the Source, even if he tears the Realms apart to make Asheara anew, she will not love him. She can never love what he has become. When he realizes that, he will lose what little remains of his humanity. Then, all of existence will suffer as he does.”
Images of a raging, fiery Hell filled Gryph’s mind. An entire universe aflame because its God was broken, desperate, alone and evil. A billion times a billion souls would suffer as Morrigan did, endlessly and without hope. The vision washed over Gryph, filling him with primal dread. Another thought occurred to him, one that was terrifying because of the absurdity of its truth. One that galvanized him to his purpose.
“Lex is our only hope,” Gryph said in a low voice. “I must protect Lex.”
*****
Herne led them from his cave, and down a forest path. Soon they reached the edge of the clearing surrounding the Archive, and their already difficult task took an uptick towards insurmountable. Every beast in this odd Realm seemed to have gathered around the Archive. There was no way they'd pass unharmed through the gauntlet of beasts.
“Can you call them off?” Gryph asked, pointing to the beasts.
“No, they
are Bartholomew’s creatures and often react more to his moods than actual commands. That so many of them are here and this agitated worries me.”
Several bandersnatch roared, the root golems hooted and the gibberish of a jabberwock tore at Gryph’s ears. The beast's movements were erratic, and several stared upwards at the top of the tower, howling in rage and despair. Gryph followed their gaze to find the flying creatures he’d seen earlier swarmed like angry bees.
“Something is happening,” Herne said, fear gripping him.
“Aluran,” Gryph said. “I need to get to Lex now.”
“I want that as much as you,” Herne said, battling the fear bubbling beneath the surface. “But we cannot survive this.” He waved a hand towards the monsters.
“What are those?” Gryph asked, pointing up at the flying creatures.
“Gray swoopers,” Herne said. “They were once simple bat-like creatures, but over time Bartholomew’s madness infected them. They envelop their prey, disincorporating their bodies as they feed on their energy.”
Gryph scowled in distaste, and a horrible, insane idea began to form in his mind. “How do we get one to come after us?”
“We don’t unless we want to die,” Herne said alarmed. Gryph stared at him until the old man dipped his head. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Old habits die hard.” Herne brought a hand to his chin in thought. “They are territorial beasts. They abide the jabberwock and bandersnatch, for they care nothing for the ground. But, attempt to take to the sky and they will attack.”
“We need to get to high ground then.” He looked around and to their left spotted a jutting outcropping of rock. Gryph ran, pushing through the branches of trees and rushing through brambles. A minute later he’d scrambled to the top of the outcropping, Herne by his side wheezing and bowed over in pain.
“What exactly is your plan here?” the old hermit asked as he caught his breath.