The Great Betrayal (The Lost Prophecy Book 8)

by D. K. Holmberg

  “Not Shoren. He finally allowed me to know him completely.”

  “What do you need from me?” Malaya asked.

  “I need you to do a few things,” Jakob said. As he began to tell her, she nodded, slowly at first, but with increasing intensity.

  As he shifted away from the Tower, he hoped that what he planned would work. Would he be able to overpower what Gareth had planned over the centuries?

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Isandra looked over at the tall woman, frowning to herself. She called herself Malaya. How had she appeared here in the caves so close to the groeliin lands?

  They had managed to restore hundreds of groeliin, possibly thousands, but there were still many more dark groeliin remaining within the mountains. Could they all be salvaged? When she closed her eyes, she could practically feel them. Why was that?

  “He has asked that you join him,” the woman said.

  Isandra glanced at the dark-haired Mage, Roelle. She’d only known her in Vasha as an apprentice Mage—and Alriyn’s niece—and she was still trying to understand what it meant that Roelle knew Jakob, a man who essentially was a god. She had not been entirely forthcoming and were it not for the absolute respect Jassan displayed for her, Isandra might not have allowed her to stay with them.

  “Does this sound like something Jakob would request?” Isandra asked Roelle.

  Roelle shrugged. “I don’t know him well enough to answer that.”

  “From what I gathered, you traveled with him from Chrysia. I’m not so far removed from the Council that I have forgotten that.”

  Roelle shook her head again. “That’s not it. The man I knew was not the man he is now. Does that make sense?”

  Isandra bit her lip. It made far too much sense. She was not the person she had been, either. She might not have become a god quite like Jakob, but she certainly was something else.

  “Why did he send you?” she asked the woman. She seemed to exude a sort of power, though Isandra didn’t know whether it was her imagination, or real. If it was real, she was incredibly powerful. Perhaps even more powerful than the strongest Mage she’d ever met.

  “He needs me to take you to him,” she said.

  Isandra glanced to Roelle again. Jakob did have the magical way of traveling that enabled him to transport himself with barely more than a blink of an eye. How valuable would that have been to the Antrilii hunting the groeliin all these years?

  “That means you’re like him.”

  The woman nodded.

  As she did, Isandra realized what had been troubling her about the woman since she first appeared. It wasn’t only the matter of her unexpected appearance, though that was unnerving, especially within these mountains. It was also the fact that she had the same musical way of speaking that Jakob did. More than anything, it confirmed to her that this woman was much like Jakob. Here they had thought the gods had all but disappeared, and she had now met two of them.

  “I can’t go with you,” Isandra said.

  Jassan’s eyes widened. She didn’t need for him to tell her how much he revered the beings he called damahne. To Isandra, they were gods, though they were something else. Perhaps they were less mystical than Isandra had been taught.

  “He asked me to summon you,” the woman said again.

  Isandra looked along the valley. She could feel the dark groeliin near her.

  “Perhaps,” she said. “But I can’t leave these creatures here attacking like this,” she said.

  The woman’s brow furrowed for a long moment. “Can I help?”

  Isandra considered for a moment. Should she let this goddess help? If she didn’t, she wouldn’t be able to answer Jacob’s summons, though she wasn’t certain what she would do if she did.

  “Can you change the polarity of teralin?”

  The woman studied her for a moment. “I can. What does this have to do with teralin?”

  Isandra chuckled. “Like many things, it has everything to do with teralin.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Jakob shifted back to the darkened towering trees of the Old Forest, drawing upon the ahmaean trapped within it. He pulled as much as he could inside of him, holding it, and used that augmentation to search throughout the forest, trying to find another source of the damahne ahmaean. If Gareth was here, Jakob would find him.

  “What is it, Jakob Nialsen?” Anda asked.

  “I learned the identity of Raime’s master.”

  “Do you know this person?”

  Jakob glanced over to Brohmin. “Did you know Gareth?”

  Brohmin frowned. “Gareth? As in one of the damahne?” Jakob nodded. “He served the Conclave briefly and long ago.”

  “Was it during the time that you served?”

  Brohmin shook his head. “Gareth served long before I did.”

  At least Jakob understood the connection between Gareth and Raime. They had long believed that Raime had abandoned the Conclave, but that wasn’t the case at all. Raime had continued to serve, but he had continued to serve a single member on the Conclave.

  “He will be here,” Jakob said.

  “How do you know this?” Brohmin asked.

  “Because he needs the ahmaean of the forest to augment his power to purge those he deems impure.” He looked around him at the forest. “It’s my fault that he knows the location of the forest. It had remained hidden for centuries… until now. Because of me.”

  “Because of you, he will be stopped,” Brohmin said.

  “And how do you even know that he still lives?” Salindra asked.

  “I found where Raime’s strand of the fibers intersected with a damahne. I followed it and recognized Gareth. He and I have spoken many times. I thought he was trustworthy. Gareth has helped me understand my abilities in ways that I thought Shoren did not.”

  “How do you know it’s not Shoren?” Salindra asked.

  “Shoren is one of the greatest of the damahne,” Anda said. “My people still sing of him and Aimielen.”

  “Just because you sing of him, doesn’t mean that he can be trusted. Jakob thought that he could trust Gareth.”

  “Gareth concealed himself from me. Shoren had done the same in the past, but has recently allowed me to know all that he knows.”

  Brohmin arched a brow at him. “All?”

  Jakob nodded. “All.”

  “You understand what that means?”

  Jakob didn’t, not yet, but he sensed that knowing what Shoren knew and having access to that knowledge was powerful. It was something he suspected few of the damahne had ever been granted.

  “Do you know where he is?” Brohmin asked.

  Jakob glanced to his brother who had been sitting silently. Scottan’s eyes narrowed, and a hint of dark amusement played across his face. “You think you have everything figured out.”

  “I don’t. All I know is that your master serves another master, and that master continues to fight a battle that has raged for years.”

  Everything Raime had done made a twisted sort of sense. He had attacked the daneamiin in order to purify the ahmaean. He had controlled the groeliin—breeding them—so that he could control their ahmaean. And the Magi… that was why he had coerced the Deshmahne into assisting him.

  “Gareth will be here. And I will stop him.”

  “You think to stop a true god? Who are you, Jakob?”

  “Who am I?” Jakob asked, leaning toward his brother. “I am the person who understands the power of the damahne. I’m the person who understands that the daneamiin are as pure with their connection to ahmaean as the damahne. I understand that the Magi serve their ahmaean in a way that the damahne have not, as do the Antrilii. Who am I?” Jakob leaned close enough to Scottan that he forced his brother to look up and meet his eyes. “Who are you? You know so little, Scottan. You followed one man, and he was misguided. He has lived a long time, but that doesn’t mean he is wise. All the time he has lived has given him no greater understanding than you have, and you… You�
��re an idiot.”

  Scottan opened his mouth, and Jakob stepped back, unsheathing his sword, and smashed the hilt into his brother’s forehead in a swift movement. His brother crumpled.

  He turned away. He would have to deal with his brother eventually, but for now, he needed to find Gareth. As he held onto his connection to the ahmaean of the forest, he had a sense of the forest pushing him, guiding him away from the daneamiin encampment. Jakob gave in to it, letting it push him beyond the border of the daneamiin part of the forest. There was a soft tingling across his skin that reminded him of how he felt standing at the Lashiin ruins, as well as the ruins he had found elsewhere in the world.

  And then he detected the damahne ahmaean he’d sensed at the temple even more strongly.

  It was in the forest, and it attempted to use the ahmaean of the forest, but there was no skill—or, Jakob realized, it could be that the forest itself resisted. Considering that he likely picked up on Gareth, it was probably more that the forest resisted than that Gareth had no skill with the ahmaean.

  Brohmin followed him. “Have you found him?”

  Jakob nodded. “I have.”

  Jakob followed the connection to the ahmaean, and as he did, he detected something else that was equally unexpected. There was another ahmaean signature here.

  Had he not been pulling upon the ahmaean of the forest, and had the forest not allowed him to do so, he didn’t think he would have picked up on it.

  “Do you detect that?” he asked Anda.

  She tipped her head to the side, a trace of a frown on her face. “There is another damahne here. Is it one of yours?”

  “Not one of mine.”

  Though could Gareth have used his ability with ahmaean to hide himself among the damahne Jakob had been helping?

  It was possible. After discovering that there were damahne, he could have hidden in plain sight, and Jakob never would have known.

  He had a growing sense of unease about what might be waiting for him. If it was Gareth, he would be as old as Raime—older even. With that kind of experience, he would be more skilled than Jakob could manage.

  There was one skill that Jakob had that he doubted Gareth had acquired.

  He unsheathed his sword.

  Brohmin eyed him strangely for a moment before nodding and withdrawing his blade. “What do you see?” Brohmin asked.

  “I don’t see anything, not yet, but I’m prepared for the possibility. I doubt Gareth will have taken time to learn how to use a sword—”

  Movement flickered out of the shadows, appearing before him. A sword sliced toward him, a blade of neutral teralin. The blade itself had a strange spiraling pattern, and there were markings along the side that reminded Jakob of Novan’s staff.

  Jakob reacted barely in time. He deflected the blow, turning it away.

  The person standing in front of him was old. There was age burning within his eyes, and he had long gray hair and bushy eyebrows. Deep wrinkles caught the corners of his eyes. Despite that, he moved with a natural grace, and each movement with his sword was compact and tightly controlled.

  “Gareth?” Jakob asked.

  The man attacked, barely giving Jakob a chance to react. Only his ongoing practice and all the training he had from both Endric and Brohmin saved him.

  “Why are you doing this? I thought you were helping me?”

  Gareth continued to slice at him, and Jakob barely managed to deflect each blow. Brohmin attempted to join, but Gareth forced him back.

  Jakob had believed Gareth would not have any skill with the sword, but that had been a mistake. Jakob emptied his mind, continuing to attack, jumping from catah to catah as he did. A grim smile spread across Gareth’s face, and Jakob thought he understood. Gareth had seen every attempt that Jakob might make. He would have seen these catahs. And now… Now he was able to use that knowledge against Jakob.

  Why should Jakob be surprised that Gareth was as skilled as he was? Gareth would have known about Jakob’s predilection toward using a sword, and he would have had hundreds of years to learn to use it and then to train.

  He might even have Jakob’s memories of training.

  Would he be responsible for his own defeat?

  Jakob was forced back.

  He pulled on ahmaean, trying to slow Gareth, but it didn’t work against the damahne as it did against the groeliin. Any attempt to manipulate the fibers, to slow time, failed as Gareth countered him.

  Jakob continued to be pressed back. He held onto the ahmaean of the forest, but even that did not feel adequate. There was something Gareth did that granted him additional strength. Was it tied to the teralin in the strange spiraled sword?

  As Jakob thought, he shifted his focus, pressing through Gareth’s sword, attempting to change the polarity, but the sword resisted him.

  Gareth’s mouth tightened. He still had said nothing.

  “Jakob!”

  He turned slightly to the side and saw Anda staring through the trees.

  Jakob shifted, trying to get behind Gareth, but the other damahne was too quick.

  Despite not being able to get behind him, Jakob managed to see what had caught Anda’s attention.

  Darkness drifted into the forest.

  It wasn’t only darkness, but dark ahmaean. There was pressure, and a sense of anguish that pulled upon his connection to the forest and its ahmaean.

  Dark teralin.

  Jakob shifted back, trying to get some distance between himself and Gareth.

  “Brohmin, there are groeliin—”

  Gareth shifted toward him, preventing Jakob from finishing.

  Jakob was forced back, and he shifted, flickering from place to place, trying to escape Gareth and his incredible skill. He didn’t dare depart. If he did, he would leave his friends exposed and put them in danger.

  He had to remain calm, and he had to fight.

  Jakob shifted, and when he appeared, he tried moving but was held.

  Gareth approached, his sword ready.

  “I’ve struggled to find the Old Forest. We knew it existed, but thanks to you, I finally have the source.”

  “The source?” Jakob asked through clenched teeth.

  Gareth brought his sword back, a killing blow. A wide smile spread across his face. “This is where the cleansing will take place. We have failed before, but only because we haven’t had access to the source. And you brought the half-breeds here. We will destroy them first, and then any others with impurities.”

  Jakob pushed, straining against the ahmaean holding him. Whatever Gareth did was beyond his understanding.

  Jakob tried drawing from the ahmaean of the forest, but it did not respond.

  He wanted to scream, he wanted to attack, he wanted to shift, but nothing seemed to work.

  “It’s a shame, really. You had such potential, but I’ve always known that it would come to this. In fact, I’ve guided you to this.”

  “No.”

  “The darkness you see when you look along the fibers? That is your darkness and that of the half-breeds. Soon there will be a rebirth of the damahne, and we will not make the same mistakes made long ago.”

  The sword came back, and Jakob watched it moving slowly toward him.

  A howl erupted from the forest, and his nemerahl lunged at Gareth but froze in midair.

  Gareth studied the creature. “Interesting. I hadn’t realized you had bonded. I have tried to remove as many of them as I could, or they would have recognized my presence in each nidus. How did this one elude me?”

  Jakob hadn’t shared that with Gareth, but then, there was much that Gareth hadn’t shared with him.

  He continued to struggle, but the sword came back again, this time as it flickered forward, Jakob knew there was nothing he could do. This would be the end. Darkness would engulf him, and it would engulf the daneamiin. Because of him—and his failings—everyone would fail. Because of him, Gareth would succeed.

  He closed his eyes.

  Power expl
oded.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  When their group appeared in the forest, the heaviness of the air was the first thing Isandra noticed. There was a damp quality to it, and everything was dark. All around her was a sense of quiet, and it mixed with something else—a sense of the forest itself wanting her gone. Wanting all of them gone. She looked over to see if Jassan or Roelle had a similar feeling.

  “Why here?” she asked Malaya.

  “This is where he wanted us—”

  Out of the quiet, several groeliin leaped forward, preventing the goddess from answering.

  Isandra pushed out with her manehlin, but the creatures seemed to resist it. The largest of them came straight for her, attacking with a ferocity that was unlike any other groeliin.

  The goddess tried changing the polarity of this groeliin, much as she had with others but must have found the same resistance as Isandra.

  “I can’t…”

  Isandra shook her head. “Neither can I.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, took a deep breath, then jumped forward and attacked.

  Since learning she could save the groeliin, Isandra didn’t like the idea of destroying any of them, but this creature was far too powerful for her to try to save. She had no choice.

  She leaped forward, swinging her sword in a powerful, controlled movement. Jassan and Roelle fought near her, as did Magi and Deshmahne that had come along. She could feel them through her connection to the manehlin. There were dozens of Magi warriors—all who had trained with Roelle—and more and more of those like Jakob—gods—appearing as the battle raged. They brought others with them, Magi from Vasha that she hadn’t seen in a long time and didn’t dare take the time to greet.