The Godswar Saga (Omnibus)

by Jennifer Vale

  It took an extraordinary amount of effort, but Jason dragged his eyes away from the scintillating aura and focused upon Sarina. He had gotten a lot better at controlling his telepathy over the past few months, and at this point he very rarely snooped into anyone’s thoughts accidently. Nevertheless, he could feel Sarina’s bitterness and tension without even trying. She had been especially angst-ridden these past few days, and for a while he’d been content to blame her mood on the annoying Talishite customs and weather. But no, this resentment went a whole lot deeper…

  “I might be able to show you,” he whispered as he reached out and touched her wrist. “I can touch your mind and—”

  “No thanks,” she declined, pulling away. “Just do whatever it is you wanted to do and then let’s get out of here.”

  Jason wanted to protest. He wanted to reach into her mind and figure out exactly what was going on. But now wasn’t the time, and he forced himself to take a deep breath and turn his attention back to the chamber.

  “The Eye must have been stored inside the reliquary,” he said, stepping forward and eyeing the gem-encrusted container. “I don’t know why, but I expected something more elaborate…and more heavily guarded.”

  “Guarded by what?” Tam asked. “This thing has been buried in the desert for hundreds of years.”

  “Traps, maybe,” Jason mused with a shrug. “The Hassians would have rigged this place a hundred different ways. I guess the ancient Talishites weren’t as clever. Or petty.”

  “These men were mercenaries from Shanizaar,” Sarina commented as she knelt over one of the bodies. “I recognize them from the market—I saw them just a few days ago.”

  Jason turned. “So our thief hired some local muscle and then dispensed with them once he retrieved the Eye.”

  “The bodies don’t have any visible wounds,” Selvhara murmured. She was crouched down over another of the corpses, her hands glowing with energy. “Their armor and weapons show no signs of battle.”

  “Wonderful,” Tam whispered. “This demon theory of yours is getting more and more likely. So can we get the hell out of here yet? These people are dead and the Eye is already gone.”

  Jason sighed and nodded. He still wasn’t entirely sold on the notion that demons were involved, but either way this foray into the desert—and perhaps their entire trip here to Talisham—had proven to be a tremendous waste of time. Meanwhile a war was raging back home, and by the time they got back Solaria might have been a smoking wasteland…

  “These soldiers were speaking to a nobleman when I saw them,” Sarina commented. “I wonder if he’s the one who—suvesh!”

  She leapt backwards and nearly bowled over the rest of the group. Jason caught her around the waist, and he was just about to ask her what happened when the corpse on the far side of the room suddenly twitched like it had just been jolted with electricity.

  “Galivar’s blood!” Tam exclaimed, stumbling backwards and conjuring fire to his palms. “What the hell is—?”

  Before he could finish the sentence, the corpse pressed its palms against the floor and slowly dragged itself back to its feet. A low, dusty groan rasped from its lips, and its bloodshot eyes focused directly upon Jason.

  Sarina hefted up her crossbow and fired. The bolt pelted the corpse right in the chest, and the impact of the shot knocked it backwards and off its feet. It didn’t stay down, however—a split-second later it slowly hoisted itself upright. Sarina swore under her breath and lined up another shot…at which point the other three corpses belatedly stirred and joined their companion.

  “Devu’gari,” Gor hissed. For once, even he sounded surprised. “The awakened dead…”

  Jason drew his sword and signaled for the others to step back, but Sarina was still firing. She pelted the first risen corpse with two more shots, and when they had no effect she fired two more into its closest partner. The result was the same.

  “Swords and arrows won’t stop them,” Selvhara warned. “Just stay back.”

  The druid gestured with her hand, and a bolt of lightning arced from her fingertips and blasted the first corpse in the torso. Jason had to flinch away from the brilliance of the coronal discharge, but by the time the afterimage faded all that remained of the body was a smoldering pile of bone.

  Tam continued where she left off. Thrusting out his palms, he hosed down the entire western section of the chamber with a wide cone of Aetheric flame. Two of the remaining corpses were caught in the blast, and the air soon filled with the acrid stench of burnt flesh. Following his lead, Selvhara pivoted about and blasted the last corpse with another lightning bolt. Jason closed his eyes and nestled his nose into the crook of his arm until it was over.

  “Well, that was fun,” Tam said, lowering his palms and breathing heavily. “The one thing we haven’t gotten enough of here is the oppressive heat. And I especially enjoy the smell.”

  “You were right, Jason,” Selvhara murmured, ignoring the comment. “Demons can raise the dead. One of them must have been here…”

  Sarina coughed and waved the smoke from her face. “Couldn’t a channeler have done this?”

  “If so, I am unfamiliar with the technique. But Demons can possess and take control of living creatures, and powerful ones can also splinter off a fraction of their energy and ‘revive’ recently–slain corpses for a short amount of time. According to Tevek, he and the other paladins had to hack through many undead during their battles at Serogar.”

  “I heard stories about that,” Jason replied, nodding. “Supposedly it was the first time the Dawn had confronted such widespread reanimation in decades.” He pursed his lips. “The only other explanation is that there’s a channeler on the loose who has mastered a new technique.”

  “Considering what the Crell have done with the Breakers, that might not be as ridiculous as it sounds,” Tam pointed out. “It’s possible they’ve—

  “We should leave,” Gor interrupted. His claws were fully unsheathed, and his voice was unusually tense. “You have your answer: there is no life left in this place, and the Eye is already gone. This was a fool’s errand all along, just like I warned from the beginning.”

  Jason sighed. “Fine. Let’s get out of here. We can…”

  He trailed off as an odd sensation tingled down his spine. He took in a sharp breath and allowed his mind to stretch out across the statue…

  “What’s wrong?” Sarina asked. “Are you—?”

  Look out!” Selvhara warned.

  A gust of wind slammed into Jason’s back, and he and Sarina tumbled across the floor even as two of the animated corpses—now charred completely black—lunged out of the lingering flames and attempted to tackle them. Lightning crackled across the chamber as Selvhara blasted them backwards, but they pulled themselves up just seconds later…and shortly thereafter they were once again joined by their comrades.

  “Run!” Gor hissed. “They cannot be killed.”

  “No,” Jason whispered. “But they can be banished.”

  Acting on pure impulse, he hopped to his feet and lunged in close to the risen corpses. He extended his hands, and a wave of energy exploded outwards from his palms—not fire or lightning, but pure Aetheric power.

  The power of the Immortals.

  The corpses staggered in place as the energy washed over them, and a shrill, dissonant hiss echoed across the chamber as Jason banished the last residual spark of life within them back into the Void. An instant later the charred bones crumpled harmlessly to the floor.

  “What…?” Tam stammered into the silence. “What the hell just happened?”

  “I’m not sure,” Jason said, lowering his arms. “But I think Malacross got your message.”

  Sarina sat up, her eyes still wide with confusion. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

  “It was almost as if…” Jason trailed off as he licked at his dry lips. “It was almost as if she took over my body for a few seconds there.”

  Tam blinked. “Well, that’s ju
st about the most terrifying thing I’ve ever heard. Since when can your resident goddess completely take over your body?”

  “She didn’t completely take over,” Jason corrected, glancing down to his hands. “It was more like very deliberate guidance.”

  “Oh, then I guess there’s nothing to worry about,” Tam said sarcastically. “Anyone else think he sounds crazy?”

  “Always,” Gor rasped, though the chagari’s expression was about as sober as Jason had ever seen it.

  Closing his eyes, Jason let out a deep breath and stretched out his fingers. An odd tingling sensation continued to course through his limbs, but otherwise he felt…good. Better than he had in quite some time, in fact. It felt like he’d just unwittingly unlocked a vault of knowledge somewhere inside his mind…and the only lingering question was whether or not he was willing to peek inside.

  “Are you certain you’re all right,” Selvhara asked. Her arm curled around his, and Jason smiled and patted her hand.

  “I’m fine,” he assured her, opening his eyes once again. The Aetheric trails in the chamber—both of them—were more vivid and distinct than ever. And he was now confident that their initial hypothesis was, in fact, true. “We’re definitely dealing with a demon—a powerful one, unlike anything we’ve encountered before.”

  “Considering we’ve never personally seen one, I’m not sure that counts for much,” Tam pointed out. “I really wish Elade were here…”

  Sarina crossed her arms and frowned in thought. “Let’s assume you’re right. Why in the Void would a demon care about the Eye of the Pah?”

  “The real question is what the warlock who summoned the demon wants with the Eye,” Jason corrected. “We can only hope and assume that this trail leads us to him—or her.”

  “Maybe your dad sent it,” Tam suggested. “If he’s figured out what we’re up to—if he knows we’re trying to find the Eye to track him down—then it makes sense that he’d send his minions to stop us.”

  Gor grunted. “That’s far-fetched. How could he possibly know that we’re in Talisham searching for an obscure artifact? Jason hasn’t even seen him since we learned he was alive.”

  “Father always made it a point to have a vast spy network across Torsia,” Jason said. “He’s the one who hammered into my head at a young age that information is power.”

  “Even if Ethan knows what we’re doing, he couldn’t possibly exert control over his demons from half a continent away,” Selvhara said. “I’ve never heard of any warlock who could keep a tether on a void creature for more than a few miles at most.”

  Sarina shrugged. “So maybe he’s here. Maybe he followed us.”

  The druid shook her head. “He would never leave the front lines, not while there are Crell to fight. He’s somewhere in the north—I guarantee it.”

  Jason sighed. “I don’t know, but someone or something took the Eye, and that means they knew where it was and that we were looking for it. The only way they could have gotten that information is from someone in Shanizaar.”

  “In other words, one of your contacts betrayed you,” Gor grumbled. “You’ll forgive me if I’m not the least bit surprised.”

  “Regardless of who or what it was, the important question is what we’re going to do about it,” Sarina said.

  “There’s only one option,” Jason whispered. “We follow the Aetheric echo and see where it takes us. But if we’re going to catch up, we’ll have to travel overnight in the cold. The sadrixi aren’t going to be happy.”

  “They aren’t the pack animals I’d be worried about upsetting,” Tam said, throwing a meaningful glance at Gor. “Are you going to make it out there, big guy?”

  The chagari’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “I prefer to travel in the darkness. But rest assured, I expect to be appropriately compensated for all of my time, little human.”

  “Hey, Jace is the one with the coin purse…and the god complex. He’s the one you need to beg.”

  “Let’s get moving,” Jason said, looking down at the still-smoldering bones one final time. “We can figure out the rest later.”

  Chapter Six

  “Friendship ages as gracefully as wine. Revenge festers as bitterly as beer.”

  —Asgardian saying

  The paladin’s stench lingers in this place, the demon said. Its mental “voice” still sounded like a shrill whisper. It hangs in the air like a fetid cloud…

  Ethan Moore smiled beneath his tightly-drawn hood as he maneuvered through the bustling Lyebel docks. “Tevek always made an impression wherever he went. I’m not surprised you can still sense him.”

  Not the human—the vaeyn. I can still feel the echo of her passing.

  “Ah, yes. Well, she’s probably killed more of your kind over the past century than the entire Last Dawn. You should be afraid of her.”

  The demon hissed. I am fear, human. It is your animus and dread that binds me to this world.

  “So you say, but your voice was almost quivering earlier,” Ethan taunted. “Now be silent and follow. We’re almost there.”

  The tooth-filled “face” at the center of the creature’s torso writhed in anger, but it was naturally powerless against his will. Of course, master. I will obey.

  Ethan grunted and pressed onwards. He had named the demon Kar’zhel, a chagari word meaning “lurking brute.” It was a draeloth, the largest and most savage of the various Void-spawned creatures, and it had served as Ethan’s invisible protector since he had returned to Galvia following Queen Krystia’s Ascension. With luck, however, he would have no need of its services here today.

  After a quick glance to ensure he hadn’t been followed, Ethan slipped into an alley and off the main streets. The odds that anyone here would recognize him were low, especially after dark, but he saw no reason to take an unnecessary risk. The back streets would get him to the castle proper almost as quickly. Still, he couldn’t help but be awed at just how far—and how quickly—this once great city had fallen into lawlessness. Even months later, he had trouble believing the Crell had abandoned their once-coveted prize.

  While Ethan and Krystia had stormed King Areekan’s chambers in Celenest, Kyle Adar and the other surviving members of the resistance had mounted an assault upon the castle here in Lyebel. They had failed miserably—all of them had died, including their Solarian and Last Dawn escorts—and everyone had expected the survivors of the Imperium’s Garos invasion force to retreat back here to the city after their defeat. But instead the High Sovereign had pulled her forces all the way back to the Galvian capital of Ashenfel, and they had remained in a defensive position ever since.

  Ethan didn’t understand their strategy. The pitiful remnants of the Fifth Solarian Legion garrisoning Lyebel were hardly strong enough to seriously threaten anything in Galvia, and General Iouna had no plans on deploying reinforcements anytime in the near future. With the Asgardians turning a blind eye to the whole war, the Crell could have easily bunkered down here and maintained one of the most important ports in all of northern Torsia.

  But whatever the High Sovereign’s reasons, Ethan knew it was foolish to complain. All in all, he had gotten almost exactly what he’d wanted since he’d first hatched this plan to assassinate King Tyrius Areekan and replace him with a young, impressionable priestess. His biggest lingering concern had been how much damage the Imperium would inflict before order could be restored. If the Crell forces had charged across the border quickly enough, Celenest likely would have fallen before the new queen could have even mounted a defense, and then all of his efforts would have been for nothing.

  Ultimately, he had decided the gambit was worth the risk. Indecision was death, as the Yamatans liked to say, and Ethan was an old man with nothing left to lose. He had no love for the Alliance, and there would have been a certain poetic justice in the Crell burning Celenest to the ground. Areekan had allowed the Imperium to conquer half of Galvia and murder King Whitestone before he’d finally chosen to intervene in the last war, and the
feckless fops on the Lord’s Council deserved to suffer for their cowardice.

  But against all odds Ethan and Krystia had actually succeeded in their plan, and somehow Garos had stood firm. The Crell had almost completely abandoned Galvia, and Ethan had every intention of finishing the job he’d started so long ago. All he needed now was some help from an old friend…an old friend who had just recently arrived here in Lyebel.

  “Wait here,” Ethan ordered once they reached the alley adjacent to the Solarian consulate. “I can’t risk you getting any closer to the castle.”

  There are no paladins in Galvia, Kar’zhel said. The Solarian priests are blind to our passing.

  “Probably, but I see no reason to take the chance. Our beloved queen has demonstrated many powerful and unexpected abilities over the past few months. I wouldn’t be surprised if she eventually learns to track your kind.”

  Even if she does, her servants never will. They are Bound, nothing more.

  “The Knights of the Last Dawn are Bound, and your kind doesn’t find them weak,” Ethan pointed out. “More to the point, I am Bound, and I am also your master. Don’t forget that, lest I banish you back to the Void.”

  Despite its obvious annoyance, Kar’zhel stayed put, and Ethan cracked a thin, satisfied smile. A few months ago, before Krystia had restored his powers, his control over his minions had actually started to wane. His aging body had been failing more rapidly each and every day, and he’d assumed that eventually he would lose control and be torn apart by his own minions. It was probably the most common cause of death for warlocks across Obsidian.

  But now that he could command the Aether once again, his demonic leash was as strong as ever. He could command a massive horde of demons if he so desired, and his healing magic could repair most of the damage inflicted by the requisite rituals. He was even more powerful now than when he’d been first among the Hands of Whitestone all those years ago. And soon enough, he would be able to direct that awesome power against the Crell. Just not quite yet.