"Give me three days, and I will have your way in." The Sage's expression grew smug. "My Elivasti will see to it."
The Hunter nodded. "That should work." Perhaps Master Eldor's alternative route would provide an escape route from the Sage's temple after he'd eliminated the Abiarazi. The Warmaster would have to die first, but the Sage wouldn't outlive him long.
"And I trust your lessons with Master Eldor will prepare you for the task." The Sage beamed. "I'm given to understand he has taken special interest in you, even begun training you personally. A high honor."
"So I hear." The Hunter's jaw clamped so hard his muscles protested.
The Sage gave him a wry grin. "Embrace the opportunity, Hunter. Listen and learn well. I am told Master Eldor was once counted as one of the Elivasti's finest warriors. Age—that fickle mistress that plagues mortals but leaves you and I untouched—has not impaired his abilities. It is why he is responsible for training all my loyal Elivasti." He took a sip of his wine. "Alas, if only I could count all the Elivasti as such."
The Hunter inclined his head, puzzled.
The Sage glanced around furtively, then stood and strode over to the wall. "Come, Hunter. I would talk somewhere I am certain there are no listening ears." He fumbled behind the ornate tapestry for a moment, then something clicked and the stone rumbled to one side, revealing a stone spiral staircase. He grinned. "The Serenii were ever fond of their hidden passages."
The Sage preceded the Hunter up the stairs. They needed no light, for the walls brightened as they ascended the staircase to a trapdoor.
The Hunter struggled to conceal his eagerness. The Sage was about to take him to the one place he needed to go: into the garden. He made a mental note of where the Sage had touched the wall. He needed only to return when the Sage was away from his chambers and he could get the opia for Hailen.
The Sage pushed open the trapdoor, and dazzling light spilled down the stairway. The Hunter stepped into a world of glorious color and life.
Late afternoon sunlight streamed through the glass-domed ceiling and walls. An explosion of fragrances filled his nostrils, the scent of a thousand flowers and plants. He recognized a few, but many were as foreign to him as the tower itself. Hues of green and brown dominated, but patches of red, white, yellow, and fiery orange dotted the immense room. The breadth of vegetation here rivaled that of the Queen's Gardens in Aghzaret.
Wonder momentarily replaced the Hunter's anger. "How is this even possible?" Such a paradise could not exist atop the highest peak in the Yathi Mountains, and yet here it was.
"The glass dome captures the sun's light, and the steam rising from the vents brings in water. But how such a variety of plant life flourishes here…" The Sage shrugged. "The magick of the Serenii." His tone held quiet reverence.
Such magick, indeed! He had stood atop the glass dome last night, but its opacity had blocked the gardens from his view. But looking out now, the glass was as clear as the finest crystal.
The Sage led the Hunter through the maze of plants, toward a small clearing in the heart of the greenhouse. There, a single bush bloomed—a pathetic thing, with small, sparse leaves and a handful of white buds. One diminutive berry hung from a spindly branch that barely reached the Hunter's waist.
How can something so pathetic hold so much power? It didn't matter.
The Sage gestured at the solitary fruit. "Do you know what this is?"
The Hunter nodded. "Opia. The fruit of the gods." Precisely what he needed to cure Hailen.
The Sage held up a finger. "The only fruit to ripen before next spring. The last of its kind for a whole year. And the only thing that can save the Elivasti from their madness." He searched the Hunter's expression. "It is because of this that they plan to betray me."
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The Sage scowled. "The Warmaster has whispered in their ears, promising them control of the tower." He motioned around. "Control of the gardens, and the opia that blooms here."
The Hunter raised an eyebrow. "Surely they would not betray you. They cannot. From what Master Eldor has told me, their oaths forbid them from raising a hand against you."
"That is so, but you cannot be so naïve to believe that they would break their ancestors' vow if it served their purposes." The Sage shook his head. "You have lived among the humans for centuries, Hunter. You have seen the worst that mankind has to offer. Liars, thieves, murderers, swindlers, oathbreakers. For all the Serenii blood coursing through their veins, the Elivasti are fully human."
The Hunter couldn't dispute the Sage's words. He had seen the depths to which men and women stooped. He had earned a fortune carrying out petty revenge on a business, romantic, or familial rival because his clients were too cowardly or afraid to get their hands dirty. Even children, if pushed too far, could snap and perpetrate horrors upon their fellows.
For thousands of years, the Elivasti had suffered the curse of their blood. The city below had been built to hold thousands, but the Hunter had seen only several hundred Elivasti. The Sage controlled the opia, the only thing that kept them from descending into the madness passed down to them by the Serenii. Was it any surprise they rebelled against the demons' control?
In a way, they were in the same boat as he. The Abiarazi had bred the Bucelarii to be their loyal servants, their shock troops in the war on Einan. He had sworn no oaths, but he was as much a prisoner to his demonic heritage as they were to the Serenii. The voice in his mind and Soulhunger on his belt were the chains that tied him to the Abiarazi.
Yet he sought to free himself from their control. He had come to Kara-ket to eliminate the greatest threat to Einan. Now he had to deal with two demons, both mighty in their own way. Perhaps he could find new allies in the Elivasti scheming to do away with the Sage.
But he couldn't let the Sage see this thought. Instead, he spat. "Traitors!" He shook a clenched fist. "There are few things I despise more than a man that fails to uphold his word. If I was you, I would execute them in a public spectacle. Show them what happens when they break the vows of their ancestors."
That should be sufficiently bloodthirsty to convince him.
The Sage pursed his lips. "I would do precisely that, but alas the oath that binds their loyalty also forbids me from raising a hand against them. We cannot directly cause harm to come to the Elivasti, else our pledge is broken. They would turn upon the oathbreaker, and there are thousands of them."
Something in the demon's midnight eyes made his intentions clear. "No Abiarazi may raise a hand against them, yes?"
The Sage nodded.
"But if someone else were to find the traitors and eliminate them, there would be no outcry against you."
"Precisely."
"Which doesn't solve the problem of several hundred Elivasti out for my head." The Hunter held his palms up. "Just as with the death of the Warmaster, what would stop them from avenging the murder of their own?"
"They will do as I command. If I order them to leave you alone, they will have no choice but to obey."
The Warmaster had given him the same answer. Both were fully confident in the loyalty of the Elivasti. The fact that there were traitors in the ranks indicated the confidence could be misplaced.
"If you believe they will heed your commands, why not order the traitors to reveal themselves?"
The Sage huffed. "Do you truly believe any man prepared to break the oath passed down through generations would be so honorable? The traitors will wait until they can make their move against me." He gave the Hunter a pointed look. "Which is where you come in. I would have you hunt them down."
"We just went over this. If I kill—"
"Root them out, Hunter." The Sage balled his slim fingers into a tight fist. "Find out who is plotting against me, who the Warmaster has turned against me. Bring me their names. I will do the rest."
The Hunter raised an eyebrow. "If you cannot harm them…"
The Sage gave a dismissive wave. "There are many ways for problems of this natu
re to be dealt with." His expression hardened. "I cannot allow such dissension in my ranks. Already the Warmaster commands the loyalty of too many Elivasti, as well as his Masters of Agony. My eyes and ears around Einan whisper of bands of men from every nation moving toward the Hrandari Plains. Soon he will make his move. When that time comes, I will need every loyal servant I can muster. And ally."
The Hunter noticed how hastily the Sage amended that last sentence. He held out a hand. "I will be by your side." Close enough to put Soulhunger in your back.
The Sage gripped his forearm. "You will be rewarded, Hunter." He motioned to the opia. "This will be yours."
"Mine?" The Hunter wrinkled his brow in mock confusion. "What would I need it for?"
"Why, for your boy, of course!"
Blood turned to ice in the Hunter's veins. Every muscle went rigid, every sense on high alert. It took all his self-control to keep his hands by his side when he wanted nothing more than to draw Soulhunger.
His heart sank. He knows. Of course he knew. Master Eldor had all but told him the Sage had spies everywhere.
The demon's expression grew unreadable. "When I heard Master Eldor brought you to the enclosure, I assumed you wanted to see your boy. Hailen, was it?"
The Hunter's gut twisted to hear the name coming from the demon's lips.
"I must admit, this is not quite the reaction I expected from you." The Sage gave a petulant sigh. "I expected a bit more gratitude after I saved him."
"Saved him?" The Hunter struggled to maintain a calm composure. "He was perfectly safe where he was."
The Sage inclined his head. "He would have been, had the Warmaster not learned of his existence."
The mention of the other demon added to the waves of anxiety and fear rolling through the Hunter. "The Warmaster," he said in a flat, hard voice.
"Oh, did I fail to mention that?" A self-satisfied grin spread the Sage's lips. "The Warmaster sent his men to bring the boy here."
Watcher's teeth! The thought of Hailen in the massive Abiarazi's clutches sent a shiver down his spine. He spoke in a strangled voice. "Why?"
"Isn't it obvious? If he has the boy, he can get you to do whatever he wants."
The Hunter's mind raced. "But how did he find out?"
"I control an entire world. Abiarazi heed my word. Kings and princes die at my behest. A legion of Elivasti carry out my bidding across Einan. Is it so difficult to believe I would know everything that takes place in a small village at the base of Shana Laal? I knew the moment you entered Kharan-cui, and the moment you began your ill-advised ascent of the mountain."
"That doesn't explain how the Warmaster discovered him."
The Sage grimaced. "The company of Elivasti who brought me the news also delivered it to him before I could intercept it. After your encounter with him, I suspected he would send his minions to fetch the lad. I had his men watched, and when they traveled down the Torturer's Path, I sent my own Elivasti ahead to retrieve your boy first." He held up a hand. "But you need have no fear. In the enclosure, he is safely out of the Warmaster's reach. My trusted Elivasti guard the gate. So long as he remains there, he will come to no harm."
The Hunter studied the demon's bland expression. Isn't that convenient? Safely out of the Warmaster's reach, but firmly in your control.
The Sage was too calculating to do something like this as a gesture of goodwill. He hadn't done it to earn the Hunter's trust, that much was certain.
"You claim the Warmaster intends to use him as leverage, yet will you not do the same?"
"Much as it pains me, I can understand your reticence and mistrust." The Sage shook his head. "The way you have been treated by humankind has made you suspicious."
It has nothing to do with humans. Of anything, my interactions with your kind have taught me to be wary.
The Sage fixed him with a burning gaze. "But he will be safe, you have my word. You must believe that I have only your best interests at heart!"
After a long moment of fighting down his true feelings, the Hunter forced himself to nod. "I believe you will keep your word." Provided I do exactly what you say, of course. He held out his hand. "But only if you swear before mighty Kharna himself."
The Abiarazi placed a hand over his heart and intoned in a solemn voice, "I swear by the Destroyer of Worlds, my soul to forfeit, that I will not allow the Warmaster or his minions to harm a hair on your boy's head."
The Hunter pretended satisfaction. "Good." The convenient wording of the vow gave him no illusions as to the demon's true nature. The Sage wouldn't hesitate to use Hailen against him; he had taken away the Warmaster's bargaining chip and kept it for himself. But he allowed none of this to show on his face.
The Sage placed a hand on the Hunter’s shoulder. "As allies, we must trust each other. It is difficult for me as well." He sighed. "But I find myself forced to place my life in your hands. I must rely on you to root out the treason in my ranks before the Warmaster destroys us all."
"And the opia? You will only give it to me after I find the traitors?"
"Of course not!" The Sage actually seemed offended. "I would not use your boy's health to hold you hostage."
As you are with the Elivasti? Aloud, he asked, "So when can I have it?"
The Sage held up a slim finger. "One week. That is when the fruit ripens, and its effects will cure your boy."
One week. A chill ran down the Hunter's spine. The Warmaster's army arrived in a week. The Sage would have the means to compel the Hunter's loyalty until then. A coincidence?
"So be it." He met the Sage's gaze without hesitation.
"Soon enough, Hunter, your boy will have what he needs. One week and he will be whole. Until then, he will be safe. I will send word to my men to allow you to enter and visit with him first thing tomorrow. But for his sake, he must remain within the enclosure. The Irrsinnon, you see…"
The Hunter nodded. "I understand. And thank you."
A ghost of a smile played on the Sage's lips. "Of course." He bowed. "I trust you would do the same were our positions reversed."
The Hunter released his grip. "Answer me this: For someone who knew I was coming, you seemed more than a little surprised to see me."
The Sage gave him a sly smile. "The discovery you were a Bucelarii came as a shock. Your presence, not even a little."
The Hunter narrowed his eyes. "If you knew I was coming, why let me climb the mountain? Why not send your men to bring me to you?"
The Sage shrugged. "It was a test. I had to gauge your abilities, your resourcefulness, and your will to survive."
"That test," the Hunter spat, "almost got me killed!"
"And your death would have been proof of your weakness. A weak man—or Bucelarii—is worthless to me." The Sage turned to the Hunter, excitement in his empty eyes. "But you lived! You survived the attempt, and destiny has reunited us. Abiarazi and Bucelarii. Working side by side, we will be unstoppable. You, my right hand of death, carrying out my will across Einan. It will be glorious indeed."
The Hunter hid his disgust. "And what of the Warmaster? What would he say to all this?"
The Sage scowled. "The arrogant churl believes himself my equal, simply because he commands the Elivasti." His obsidian eyes blazed, and his lip curled. "Now that I have you, he has outlived his usefulness. But until we can do away with him, rest safely in the knowledge that I have saved your boy from death."
"And I will not forget it."
The Sage bowed, and his expression brightened. "Now, I find myself in need of some refreshing wine and food. Will you join me? If I remember correctly, you promised our next game of Nizaa would prove more challenging." He chuckled.
The Hunter nodded. "I would be honored."
"Good. Then let us adjourn to my chambers."
The demon strode down the garden path, the Hunter a step behind. Before he closed the trapdoor, he cast one last glance over his shoulder. In the middle of the marvelous Serenii garden, bathed in the light of the setting sun, he
caught a glimpse of the tiny opia fruit—the fruit that would soon save Hailen's life.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The Hunter stared at the board, mind racing. An hour of cautious play, and neither he nor the Sage had gained a clear advantage. Both held advantageous positions, with a roughly even number of pieces. After a moment of hesitation, he moved his Watcher three spaces to capture the Sage's Apprentice. The piece—a fat man clutching a heavy purse—joined the others in the bloodwood box.
"Too clever by half." The Sage stroked his narrow, clean-shaven chin.
The Hunter grinned and folded his arms across his chest. "Didn't see that coming, did you?"
With an answering smile, the Sage moved his Swordsman—a powerful warrior wielding an enormous broadsword—to the space occupied by the Hunter's Bloody Minstrel. The Hunter's heart sank as the Sage deposited the piece—a troubadour leaking blood from his eyes, ears, and mouth—beside a half-dozen of the Hunter's captured serfs.
Damn it! He ground his teeth in frustration. His strategy relied on the Bloody Minstrel, and its elimination had effectively crippled his offense. He studied his opponent. The Sage returned his scrutiny with a blank, unblinking stare. He's not an easy one to read.
Impatience pinged within him. The sun had only set an hour before; he had at least another four hours until Master Eldor's man would come for him. It seemed every second dragged. He wanted nothing more than to leave, but if he didn't complete the game of Nizaa, the Sage might grow suspicious. He had to keep up appearances.
Finally, after another interminable hour, the game finally concluded—with the Hunter's loss, inevitably.
"A well-fought battle, Hunter." The Sage gave him an approving smile.
The Hunter nodded. "Next time, Sage." He thumbed one of the pieces. "That trick you played with the Beggar Priest will only work the once."
Darkblade Seeker: An Epic Fantasy Adventure (Hero of Darkness Book 4) Page 20