by John Marco
“But—”
“No,” he said sharply. “I can take you back or I can show you more of this world. That’s all. Do you want to see more?”
“No, no more,” I said quickly. “Just . . . take me out of here. It’s time to talk to Fallon.”
15
I awoke that morning just before dawn, before Cricket even, sitting up in bed with a shout that made my servants come running into the room. There were two of them, a man and woman, both beautiful, both assigned to me by Anton Fallon. It was they who had dressed my wounds, I quickly learned. Their names were Karik and Adela. I remembered this as I woke up—really woke up this time—from my long and fretful sleep. I had a thousand questions for them, but Karik and Adela gently scolded me to silence, pointing out Cricket still asleep in the nearby bed.
“What happened?” I whispered.
As the pair helped me into my shirt, they explained how Marilius and Cricket had brought me back to the palace on horseback. Cricket, it turned out, had spent most of the time watching over me. No wonder she was so exhausted. As I listened, the encounter with the monster returned to my memory. My arm had been badly burned, yet both of them marveled at how quickly I’d healed. I flexed my arm within the linen shirt, feeling remarkably good. I had Malator to thank for that. As Karik guided me down to sit on the bed, I hefted the Sword of Angels. While Adela put on my boots, I gave Malator my silent thanks.
“You should eat,” whispered Adela. “Come, and I will get you something.”
I shook my head. “I want to see Fallon. Take me to him.”
The pair shared a grimace. Karik helped me to my feet.
“Master Fallon is in the Great Hall,” he said. “But now’s not the best time to see him.”
“Too bad for him.”
* * *
As it turned out, Fallon’s palace was full of “great halls,” but the one where he was hiding was at the eastern end of his enormous home, far from the rooms he’d given me and Cricket. Like everything in the palace the hall was enormous, sparkling with marble tile and golden fixtures. Towering windows of painted glass flooded the hall with dawn light. At any other time the hall might have been a ballroom for a lavish party, but now it was choked with mercenaries. They stood shoulder to shoulder, so closely crammed they could barely move. At least two-hundred of them stood guard, some with weapons drawn, but most so sleep-deprived that they’d sheathed their swords or simply dropped them to the floor. They took almost no notice of me as Karik and Adela brought me into the hall, until one of them called out my name.
“Lukien.”
Marilius made his way through the crowd, pushing the others aside to reach me. One look at his bloodshot eyes told me he’d been up all night, too. His fellow mercenaries gave me the once over. I dismissed Karik and Adela as Marilius reached me. He studied my face, then my arm, then laughed.
“Those wounds might have killed someone else, but I shouldn’t be surprised to see you’re fine!”
“What’s with the army? Waiting for the monster to come back?”
“It was a quiet night,” said Marilius with relief. “Thank the Fate.”
“You do this every night? Gather around the hall like this?”
“There’s not usually so many of us. Anton’s been in a panic since . . .” Marilius stopped himself. “You know.”
“Yeah. Since I got beaten.” I gestured toward the doors at the end of the hall. “Is he awake?”
“Are you kidding? He doesn’t sleep any more, Lukien.”
Marilius parted the mercenaries easily, leading me through the throng. The men posted outside the chamber opened the doors at once. I had expected another one of Fallon’s grand rooms, but was disappointed to see a shabby, windowless chamber. A fireplace, a few upholstered chairs, and a long wooden table were the only furnishings, as if everything else had been stripped away. Fallon himself was slumped over the table, sniffing at it. He jumped when we entered, and a puff of purplish dust erupted from the table top. He looked at me, embarrassed and angry.
“Well! My protector!” He wiped the purple stuff from under his nose with a dirty sleeve. “Up on your feet already. How fabulous.”
He was barely recognizable, his expensive robe stained and wrinkled, his face sallow. Even the black tattoo on his forehead drooped. His wobbly eyes strained to see me. That’s when I noticed the purple stuff, arranged on the table in sloppy little piles.
“What’s that?” I moved passed Fallon and stuck my finger into it. The stuff felt smooth, like powder. I sniffed my finger, appalled at the smell. “Ugh! You’re sniffing dung?”
“It’s acana,” he snapped. “It calms me.”
“Never heard of it. What is it? A spice?”
“Like a wild ginger,” said Fallon. “But different. Not as good as having a magic sword though.”
“You’re sweating.”
“Of course I’m sweating!” Fallon fell into the nearest chair. “That thing is still alive out there! You were supposed to kill it, Sir Lukien.”
“I tried, Fallon. The thing—”
He silenced me with a wave. “I know what happened. Marilius told me. Why do you think I have so many men out there?”
“But it didn’t come last night, did it?”
“No, no thanks to you.” Fallon slumped against the table, barely able to stay awake. “And if you expect me to pay you for that mission forget it. I’m already going broke.”
He looked pathetic, more frightened than angry, rubbing the tattoo and fretting over his mounds of spice. I knew Marilius felt helpless, too. I was glad we three were alone.
“Where’d that monster come from, Fallon?”
Fallon didn’t look up. “I told you. From Diriel.”
“It’s a demon,” I said. “It isn’t from Akyre or any other country. It’s magical. And you knew that all along.”
“Did I? Well, if you say it’s a demon, Sir Lukien—”
“How’d it get here?”
“How should I know? Ask Diriel! He’s the one who sent it here. He wants me dead!”
“That’s a lie.” I touched my sword pommel. “You forget, I have help. A spirit of my own, remember? So when you lie, I know it.”
For a moment Fallon groped for an answer. He looked at Marilius, then back at me, then wilted. “Oh.” He laid his forehead on the table and let out an enormous groan. “What’s the difference? I’m dead already.”
Marilius put a hand on his shoulder. “Lukien, you should go.”
I was itching for an argument. “Stop protecting him, Marilius. Stop lying for him. Why’d you keep me from entering the dell? What are you hiding in there?”
“There’s where the monster lives,” said Marilius. “I told you that.”
“And what else?”
“Nothing!”
Fallon managed to sit up. “Forget it, Marilius. Tell him and let him be on his way.”
“Tell me,” I demanded. “I need to know.”
“I’m tired,” Fallon whined. He stuck his nose into the powder again, but before he could take a sniff I bent over and wiped it off the table. I took hold of his robe and lifted him from the chair.
“You can smell your cow manure later,” I said. “Tell me about the demon!”
Marilius grabbed my arm. “Let him go, Lukien.”
So I dropped Fallon into his chair and grabbed Marilius instead, pulling him right into my face. “You brought me here to fight that monster, but you didn’t care for a second that I might have been killed. You let me go in there blind!”
Marilius grit his teeth. “I saved your life. Twice! You couldn’t wait to go after the monster. Just like you went after Wrestler. Without even thinking!”
I let go of him, but I wasn’t leaving without an answer. “What is it?” I pressed. “How’d it get here?”
Marilius smoothed down his tunic. Fallon pointed at his tattoo. “See this? I know you have. I’ve caught you staring. It’s the mark of that beast, whatever it is. This ma
rk came right after I let the beast loose. My beautiful face, ruined . . .”
“So you did let it out. From where? How?” I took a good look at Fallon. “Are you some sort of wizard? I’ve heard about Zurans . . .”
Fallon scoffed. “Show me a wizard who lives like I do. I’m a merchant. I do whatever profit requires. Spices, Lukien. People pay a lot of money for spices.” He ran his finger through the dust left by the purple stuff. “I didn’t lie to you about Diriel. He does want me dead.”
“The monster, Fallon. How’d it get here?”
“An accident. Have you ever heard of mummia?”
I was sure I hadn’t. “Another spice?”
“Sometimes it’s called mummy powder,” Fallon said. “Very rare. And expensive. Only a king could afford it. And I’m the only man in this part of the world who can get it.”
“What’s it do?”
Fallon peered toward the door, making sure no one but the three of us could hear. “Your sword isn’t the only way to make a man immortal, Lukien. That’s what mummy powder does. That’s what Diriel wanted.”
Finally I had a piece of the puzzle. “The Legion of the Lost. Diriel’s army . . .”
“He contracted for the mummia. Paid a fortune for it. It wasn’t easy, but I found it. Not the useless tree resin some people peddle but the real thing, from the old tombs of Zura. That’s what mummy powder is—dried mummy flesh. But you have to know how to use it. I never thought Diriel would be able to.”
“So they weren’t just stories,” I said. “Soulless soldiers . . . You really did it.”
“Not me.” Fallon put up his ringed hands. “I just sell spices.”
“Sure, you’re innocent. What did you think he’d use it for? To sprinkle on his eggs?”
“How could I know he had the magic to use it? Diriel’s a fool! Everyone who’s met him says so.”
“But an indestructible army would make things nice and simple for Diriel, wouldn’t it? No problem taking over a nearby country, just march your soldiers right on in. Did you ever once stop to think about what Diriel would do with the mummia?”
“Do to his men? They’re soldiers! Like you, Lukien. I just sold them a better weapon.”
It was a giant insult. Marilius couldn’t even look at me.
“Marilius? This is the man you came back for?” I said. “You’re risking your life for him?”
Marilius shrugged. “We’re trying to fix things.”
“What about the monster?” I asked again. “You said you let it loose. How?”
Fallon tilted his head back, struggling to stay awake. “That was after,” he said. “Once Diriel took over Kasse he wanted more mummia. Quickly. You can’t just lay your hands on mummy powder. There’s tomb raiders to pay, bribes . . . and it takes time. I wasn’t even sure I could get more. Diriel didn’t care about any of that. He had the crown jewels and gold from Kasse and was willing to pay.”
“You’re a snake, Fallon. What did you sell him? Not mummy powder. Not real mummy powder.”
“It’s ground up mummies! That’s it! That’s what he paid for, and that’s what I gave him. No middle-men this time. I did the work myself.” Fallon closed his eyes and made a sound like he was tasting something sweet. “Oh, the money. He had so much of it, like it didn’t matter to him. All he wanted was the mummia.”
“So?” I pressed. “Where’d it come from?”
“The Valley of Lords,” said Fallon. “That dell you saw with Marilius. That’s where the old kings of Akyre are buried.”
“You sold him the remains of his own ancestors?” Disgusted, I turned toward Marilius. “That’s why you didn’t want us going into the dell—so I wouldn’t see the tombs.”
“That’s where it came from,” said Marilius, “though I didn’t see it for myself.”
“I went alone,” said Fallon. “Marilius didn’t know until later, when I needed his help. Now the three of us know.”
“No one else?”
Fallon shook his head. “When I went into the tombs, I found a burial stone marked with this.” He pointed to the tattoo on his forehead. “I didn’t know what it meant. I still don’t.”
I took a closer look at the tattoo. “Looks like a symbol. But of what?”
“Some ancient Akyren language maybe,” said Marilius. “Perhaps the mark of the monster.”
“The Akyrens never buried anything valuable with their dead kings,” Fallon went on. “Statues mostly. Worthless to me. I only found one mummy there, under the burial stone.”
“Just one?” I asked.
“I only needed the one,” said Fallon. “I dragged it out, threw it over a horse and rode away.”
“By yourself?”
“A dried-out corpse is lighter than you might think. When I found a private spot I burned it. Not too hot—just enough to get the powder I needed. But when I got back to the palace and saw myself in the mirror,” Fallon tapped the tattoo, “this was here.”
“The monster came the following night,” said Marilius. “At first it prowled around outside the palace. Like it was waiting for Anton. Then it started killing people from the town.”
“Trying to lure me into a fight!” said Fallon.
“No chance of that, right? You’re a ghoul, Fallon. A grave robber. Not to mention a coward. And you . . .” I turned to Marilius. “You were right to leave him. You should have kept on going. Instead you dragged me into this.”
“I’m sorry,” Marilius said. “But what now? It isn’t just the monster. Diriel’s after Anton, too. He wants that mummia, and he wants his payment back.”
“So? Give it to him.”
“I can’t,” Fallon confessed. “I spent it.”
“Spent it? On what?”
Fallon pointed toward the doors. “On all those men out there. To protect me! Don’t you see? As long as that monster is out there I can’t move. My routes are shut down, my contacts, everything. I’m a prisoner. I have to get that creature off my back!”
He looked so panicked and pathetic I laughed. “You created the beast that’s eating you, Fallon. Good! You deserve it. Once that demon gets what it wants it’ll leave everyone else alone.”
Fallon staggered to his feet. “What about Diriel? Do you think he’s going to leave everyone alone? Even if I’m dead he’ll march his legions in here.”
“They’ll kill everyone, Lukien,” said Marilius. “That’s what they did in Kasse. Diriel’s a madman. His mind is gone. He doesn’t care what he orders his army to do. Remember that boy we saw on the road?”
I remembered. I’d always remember. “Have you ever seen Diriel?” I asked.
“No,” said Fallon. “Wrestler speaks for him.”
“Wrestler’s the one who delivered the payments,” Marilius explained. “But the stories about Diriel are true. They say his throne is made of skulls.”
Fallon turned white, gripping the edge of the table. “He wants me killed. He wants my trade routes, and he wants me out of the way.” His breathing grew shallow. “I’m a dead man.”
Really, it was hard to argue with him. He had a demon on his tail and a half-dead army practically knocking at his door. But I couldn’t feel sorry for him.
“There’s something else,” sighed Marilius. “Diriel’s men didn’t become walking dead men at first—the first mummy powder we gave them did nothing, though they thought it did. Diriel’s superstitious, they say. His men easily crushed Kasse.”
“So? I don’t understand.”
“After that, Diriel wanted more mummy powder,” said Fallon.
“You told me that already. What’s your point?”
“It was the mummia from the Akyren tomb that turned them soulless,” said Fallon “The tomb with the monster.”
“So they’re connected? How?”
Marilius shook his head. “I don’t know. Mummy powder’s a myth. Men who take it believe it makes them stronger, so it does. But the stuff Anton made for them . . . well, it really worked.”
“And woke the beast!” moaned Fallon.
“You did this,” I sneered. “It’s your own fault, all of it. I won’t be part of it anymore.”
“There’s nowhere to go, Lukien,” said Marilius. “You can’t go to Akyre, and Diriel’s taken over all the territories. Or will soon.”
“I’ll head home, then. Back to Jador.”
“With Cricket?” pressed Marilius. “Do you think she’ll be happy about that, after coming all this way to find out who she is?”
“We’ll I’m not staying here!”
“Let him go,” groaned Fallon. He sat down again, miserable. “He’s useless.”
“You’re right, Fallon.” I went over and patted him on the shoulder. “You are a dead man.”
I was done with both of them. All I wanted was to leave. I headed for the doors, flung them open, and made my way through the crowd of mercenaries. That’s when Marilius caught up to me.
“Lukien, wait!”
He grabbed my arm. I shook it off and kept walking.
“Get our horses ready,” I told him. “Cricket and I are leaving.”
Marilius stayed on my heels. “Where? Back to Jador? If you leave us we’re doomed, Lukien. It’s not just that monster. Didn’t you hear what I said about Diriel?”
“I heard.”
“We need you!”
I pushed through the hall, pretending not to care. “Sure. Let the man who can’t die fight your battles for you. Forget it.”
“Then why’d you come here?” Marilius took my arm more forcefully, spinning me around. “Because I saved your life? Or maybe you just wanted to prove yourself. Well you haven’t yet. You lost against Wrestler and you lost against the monster, and now you’re running away.”
“You lied to me, Marilius. I thought I owed you for saving me, but that’s over. You’re as bad as Fallon. You don’t give a damn about me, or about those men Diriel enslaved. They’re men, Marilius.”
“I didn’t know what would happen to them, Lukien. Anton didn’t either. Mummy powder! Who could ever think that would work? If I had known—”
“You would have done nothing.” I poked my finger in his chest. “You’re a swindler, Marilius. Just like your beloved Fallon. You think he cares about you? A snake like that cares only about money. You’re smart enough to know that. But you’re hiding in this palace because you’re not man enough to face the real world.”