by Evan Currie
Jol nodded. “I will.”
He glanced at his friends again, wondering not for the first time what they had done during the war. He didn’t have the courage, though, to ask.
He was afraid they might tell him.
*****
Ser’Goth looked over the reports that had been coming back, uncertain whether she should be happy or not that everything appeared normal.
She couldn’t manage to ditch the feeling that something was wrong, but now she was beginning to wonder if maybe she was just a little paranoid. Certainly she was more than a little paranoid. That mind-set was a survival trait in the circles, after all, and she was a survivor more than anything else.
Still, sometimes paranoia could set one chasing phantoms.
“Very well,” she said, pushing the reports aside and banishing her aides with a gesture. They all scattered, grateful to be escaping unscathed as she turned to the top field generals, who had gathered at her orders. “We proceed according to previous plans. The setback in the southern lands appears to be due to chance and, if anything, probably ended the local uprising with finality I doubt the Lord Idiot could have managed intentionally.”
She let the dark chuckles go for a while.
The lord who’d ruled that section of the world had been one of the last to gain a reasonable level of control of his area and had been notorious for having revolts fomenting under his nose with alarming regularity. Her one large regret concerning the losses from that wave was that the lord himself hadn’t been present at the point of landfall.
It would have reduced her headaches by a significant degree.
“The last of the so-called free cities will be fully under our control or eliminated within the next season,” she said firmly. “That means that the next step is to now begin preparing to pull more of our fellows, including the elder themselves, through from the other sides.”
The laughter stopped as she began speaking, and murmurs began as she finished.
She was unsurprised.
The elder, in many ways, transcended the circles. They were powers unto themselves, really only answerable to demons of the First Circle, and then not even all those terrifyingly powerful entities could entirely control or command an elder.
Once through, however, the final stage of taking the realm from the upper levels would be complete. A fully formed elder was all but invulnerable to any form of attack that remained on this world or beyond. It would take an effort from the armies above, at the very least, to seriously threaten the elder . . . and that was not really in their method of operation. Once the armies above gave up a realm, they abandoned it in its entirety so that it could be cut off from neighboring realms to slow the circles’ advance. The tactic was effective, but whether it was ultimately a winning one was another question entirely.
“Should we not wait until the last of the cities is fully under control?” a general asked, a hesitance in his voice. “While transitioning . . .”
He trailed off as she gazed at him, but Ser’Goth nodded and spoke.
“While transitioning, the elder will be vulnerable,” she conceded, “which is why we won’t initiate until the world has been fully secured. We can make preparations until that has come to pass, however.”
She glanced around, waiting for any other comments, but with none evident, Ser’Goth nodded with finality.
“Then return to your assigned areas and finish your appointed tasks,” she ordered. “The first stage is approaching completion, but until this is done, we cannot claim this realm as our own.”
The orders went out, and preparations would begin in every corner of the world.
The final stage of the war had come at last, and at the ley nexuses of the world, work would now accelerate to feverish rates. Obsidian runic arrays, imported from thousands of miles in some cases, would then be set into place with extreme care at the centers of power. More than a few of the workers involved, when they made slight errors, would certainly be killed instantly by the backlash of the power that surged through the earth into their twisted and tainted arrays.
Those accidents wouldn’t slow them by much, not with the vicious overseers pushing them ahead with threats and actual application of violence as needed. Ser’Goth certainly had no care for the lives lost. Every human, and the vast majority of the demons on the planet, were all entirely expendable under her directives.
Five points had been chosen long ago, equidistant about the round of the earth, the five points of a star that would eclipse the light of the universe when it blazed to life.
*****
Ser’Goth lounged idly in the rooms she claimed as her own, perched atop the highest tower of the centerpiece of the city itself. On all sides she could overlook the seas, with small islands making for a pleasing view in three directions and the large eastern continent to the north. For several centuries now, since the city had fallen to her forces, this had been her home, and she was well satisfied with it.
Soon, however, she would have to make a decision.
She could cut out a part of this world, or perhaps another world in this realm, as her own fiefdom. She’d earned that right a thousand times over, and none would challenge her on that. The few who could were unlikely to care, and the rest could go back to the pits for all she cared.
Alternatively, she could call up her forces and pick another realm to move on.
It would be a long-term effort; they always were. This realm had been a costly victory, despite meticulous planning from the beginning. Ser’Goth doubted they could have taken it had they not carefully cut the legs out from under the locals before even trying to land forces on the world.
Still, most realms were not so advanced.
There were advantages to either option, but she was leaning toward making a power play for control of this world, as it was perched on a universal nexus. The dimensional space branched out in near infinite directions from the place she currently sat. Her eyes could see the possibilities in ways few mortals could imagine. There was glory in the next conquest, but there was power in this one, if she could gather it unto herself before anyone could take it from her.
A door creaked just slightly, catching her attention. She merely tilted her head slightly, catching the familiar sound of breathing and heartbeat in a known pattern.
“Jol.” She smiled. “Welcome. How have you been of late?”
The big human stepped into the room, head held higher than was strictly intelligent for a human in the presence of any demons, let alone one of her rank, but Ser’Goth found it amusing in this one. He was, in many ways, the epitome of the human form.
Six and a half feet tall, only half a foot shorter than she, muscled spectacularly in perfect proportions. His beard and hair were wild, much like him, and very unlike her own hairless body. She found the pale skin exotic and his upstart attitude amusing, and so she hadn’t deigned to kill him as of yet. She had little doubt that day would be coming, of course. His attitude would drive him to do something even she could not ignore. Perhaps he would even attempt to kill her.
A smile played at her lips.
The very thought was delicious and could only be more so if he had a realistic chance of success or, at least, surviving the attempt.
Sadly, he did not. For now he seemed to realize that, which tempered his pride when dealing with her. As he walked around into her vision, her eyes flicked down to the black-stained hammer he wore on his belt. She wondered how many demons he’d managed to kill with that silly tool over the years. Ser’Goth was well aware what he did with it, as were a few of her underlings, but so long as he didn’t get caught publicly, she had no intention of ruining either his or her fun. The fact that he actually thought she didn’t know amused her even more.
“I asked you a question, Jol,” she chided him, her eyes lifting to find that he was looking her straight in the face.
Impudent scut, Ser’Goth thought with almost an affectionate air as she narrowed her eyes at him and fl
icked her gaze down to the floor before looking him dead in the eyes again.
The play of emotions on his face was almost as delicious as those that she could sense tearing him apart inside. He wanted so very much to strike her down, but this close there was no resisting her allure or her authority. With a final effort to resist vanquished, the big man dropped to his knees at the foot of her divan.
“I’ve been well, my lady,” he ground out through gritted teeth.
“Excellent.” She languidly reached forward and brushed along the line of his jaw, feeling the hairs rub against her skin as the heat of her touch dried out the sweat and oils on his skin in the passing.
Humans were so fragile, yet oddly so tenacious. She could break even this specimen in front of her in a thousand ways without half exerting herself, yet she had seen far weaker members of the species persist to fight, and kill, far superior opponents even after having been wounded unto death themselves.
So very different, yet so similar to the original form, Ser’Goth mused to herself as she casually petted the man’s head with the proprietary air of an owner with her most favored hound.
“It has been a long day, pet,” she said as she climbed from the divan and walked over to the bed. “Rub me down before we call it a night, will you?”
Jol nodded reluctantly. “Yes, my lady.”
“Of course you will,” Ser’Goth told him, assured of that. “Perhaps I will keep you around for a time after the elder arrive.”
She laid herself out on the bed with casual assurance and shrugged out of her few clothes, tossing them aside as she felt the weight of the man settle in beside her.
“Be . . . thorough, would you?” she taunted, laughing inside as she felt him shudder at her words. “I’m feeling energetic tonight.”
She felt him hesitate and briefly wondered if he would try something then. In the end, however, he just let out a shuddering breath and spoke.
“Yes, my lady.”
Ser’Goth smiled as she felt his cool hands on her back, settling in to enjoy herself on every level as the massage began. She would kill him another day. Soon probably.
*****
Later, Jol limped out of the lady’s rooms, cringing internally under the laughing eyes of the guards stationed there.
Laugh at me all you want, fools, he thought despite the pain he felt. You’re only here to provide her with someone to kill if she gets angry enough.
Each move he made was done gingerly, each step painful.
The lady’s body heat was significantly higher than that of a human, and getting close tended to leave mild burns. Those on his hands could be ignored. More sensitive areas, however, left him somewhat less than mobile for a while until the pain subsided.
Were it not for her allure, he expected that he would be useless to her except as fodder, so he supposed he should be glad of his inability to resist it. His weak will likely kept him alive, but it also left him cold and dead inside each time he departed her presence.
He had learned something this time, at least.
Perhaps the brothers would know what to make of it.
I wonder what these elder are? Jol mused as he limped down through the palace and out into the streets. The lady seems pleased that they’re coming. That doesn’t bode well, I would wager.
Her being pleased rarely did, not in his experience at least.
Chapter 5
Merlin watched his young charge, concern in his mind, as she once more pored over the book.
A less perceptive being would have mistaken her actions for just more of the same; she had done a similar thing in the past days, after all. Merlin, however, was not a less perceptive being. Everything about her read to him as something deep down inside having changed. She had the look of a person who had seen something that haunted her soul.
Considering the things the girl had already seen, Merlin was far from certain he wanted to know what it was that had evoked this change.
He was about to brave the lion’s den and try to learn it anyway when a niggling caused the Master of Avalon to twist his senses and glance in another direction briefly.
This might work better, he decided as he recognized the young man seeking his attention.
With a thought, Merlin activated the transport on Atlantis and brought Caleb to Avalon. The boy made his way—with direction, of course—to the library, where Merlin met him before allowing him access.
“Did something happen last night?” Merlin demanded sternly.
“How did you know about that?” Caleb asked, shocked.
“Elanthielle has been acting oddly since she arrived.” Merlin frowned. “What happened?”
“Elan knows? Wait, how?”
Merlin tilted his head, suddenly getting the feeling that they were speaking of different things entirely. “What happened?”
“I had a really strange dream,” Caleb confessed, looking confused. “I don’t know; it felt . . . different. I was hoping Elan might be able to help. What do you mean Elan has been acting differently?”
Merlin cast a glance toward the library proper. “She has always been a driven person . . .”
Caleb snorted. “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”
Merlin spared the boy a glare but otherwise didn’t bother to acknowledge the sarcasm.
“That drive has been multiplied a hundredfold at least. Something changed, but I cannot tell what.”
Caleb pulled back a little. “A hundred times more driven? Do I want to go in there?”
“Is what you want more important than what she needs?”
The boy winced. “Ouch. Fine. I’m going.”
Merlin stepped aside, allowing him to pass, and Caleb, now hesitantly, made his way into the library of Avalon.
*****
Caleb peered around the surprisingly bright and clean space with both hesitation and honest curiosity. There had been a library in the city, but it had been nothing like what he was seeing here. Simone had made certain that he could read, but it had never been his strongest interest. This space looked more like something out of a bard’s tale of the past than anything he could equate with real-world things.
That made sense, of course, since it was out of the past.
It took him a few moments to locate Elan, who had taken over a large table toward the center of the room. She was just visible from where he was standing, shelves of books blocking some of the space between them, but he could see that she looked . . . different.
The old coot was right. Something’s changed, Caleb thought as he started to make his way to the middle of the space.
Elan always had a driven feel about her, but now there was something manic in her as she hunched over the array of books around her. No one could read that many books at once, but she was bouncing from one to another with this sharp intent that made him reconsider whether approaching her was an intelligent thing to do.
Not that he was really known for intelligence.
Caleb steeled himself and forced himself forward, walking into the eye of the hurricane of books.
“Elan? Look, I’m sorry about the other day. I . . .” Caleb paused, noticing that she hadn’t even looked up at him. He doubted that she’d actually heard him. He sighed and leaned forward to touch her shoulder, then paused as he noticed the book she was reading. “Strengthening Blows with Spiritual Force? What are you reading?”
Elan twisted, eyes piercing him. “You can read it?”
“Sure, Simone taught me how to read, you know.” Caleb looked at her, a little amused and a little affronted.
“She didn’t teach you this,” Elan said. “Look closer.”
Mildly puzzled, Caleb did so. He read a few more words, not understanding what Elan was going on about, and then noticed something odd. Slowly he reached out and covered an entire word with his hand, excepting one letter. Then he moved his hand slowly to uncover the others.
“What in the demonic . . .?” he whispered in confusion as he realized that he didn�
�t recognize any of the letters, but the words were clear as day.
“You see it too,” Elan said softly as she took the book and pushed it to him. “Here, read it. I have to do something else.”
Forgetting what he had originally come for, Caleb took the seat Elan had vacated and flipped the book back to the first page.
To Walk the Path of the Knight.
*****
Elan strode across the library, nodding briefly to Merlin, who was glaring over her shoulder at Caleb for some reason. She didn’t care to ask why; she had something more important she was intent on.
“Merlin, show me the command place again,” she said, walking past him without looking back.
Merlin would have sighed, but frankly he was too irritated and curious to bother. With a put-upon air, he turned and followed after her as she headed for the command center of Avalon, wondering just what had gotten into the girl.
She beat him there, though only by a few steps. He was mildly surprised that she’d remembered her way after only one visit, but the girl had extremely good spatial skills. She’d adapted to the enhanced armor and weapon he’d provided her quite quickly, even given the augmented systems that were specifically intended to make their use as natural as possible.
Out on the overwalk, she made her way directly to the virtual image of the world, the lights still in place from her last visit.
“Something is happening,” she said as he walked up to her. “Something bad. We need to stop it.”
Merlin eyed her warily for a moment before speaking. “And you are aware of this . . . how?”
“I dreamed it,” she answered.
“My dear chil—”
“Don’t,” Elan snapped firmly. “Do not do that. I am not talking about a nightmare. I’m talking about a visitation in the dreaming.”
Merlin paused, considering her words.
The dreaming was known to the girl’s ancestors. It was quite real, he was aware. The exact nature of the dreaming had been largely in debate among spiritual and scientific “factions,” if one could call them that exactly. Some thought that all people were connected via a subatomic bond, which allowed for the mind to impose itself on others connected via the bond.