Ez Ozel: Prologue to Perdition

by Dave Oliver

  He put his hand on the basin and stopped to catch his breath. Almost there. His destiny was inches away now. His legs were ready to give out. His arms were bleeding. His head was pounding. His throat was dry. He’d never been more excited. He reached into his robe and unfurled one of Merveille’s broken legs. He set the end of it into the deep-blue liquid in the basin.

  “Take us to your world, mage.”

  Merveille shuddered but didn’t say anything.

  “Seigneur,” Alregon yelled.

  Merrik slowly turned his head and saw four riders. Alregon, Bish, and Puma were in back, being led by a fat man dressed in horribly garish attire. It looked as though he’d fallen into a wealthy man’s wardrobe and left with whatever stuck. His mustache was twirled into a little circle on each end, and the whole look of the man screamed one word over all others: greasy.

  Their horses slowed as they neared, the greasy man clearly distracted at the sudden appearance of the gateway before him. His jaw sat agape and his horse wandered without control.

  “Sheriff?” Alregon asked.

  “Um, yes,” he replied. He managed to close his mouth and focus his vision on Merrik instead of the conduit, though his eyes kept flicking back to it. “You’ve been charged with murder, little man. Got a witness says you strangled that funny magic man and then…well she ain’t sure what you did to him after that. But she sure saw you kill him. Come ahead on back to town and we’ll make sure you get a doctor while you’re in custody.”

  Merrik glared at him with hate. He didn’t actually have any fluid left in him, but he tried to spit in his general direction anyway. It got the point across.

  Alregon rode closer. “Please, Merrik. It’s the only option now. Forget this conduit business. It’s consumed you. You want to believe it so much that it’s driven you to do terrible things. It doesn’t work. Now, please, let us help you.”

  Merrik began to laugh, causing himself to cough and lose his balance. He hung on to the stone basin tight to keep from falling over. “That’s not happening, Al. This isn’t just my goal anymore. This conduit always held my greatest dream, but now it’s everything.” He looked down at his horrifying arms, slowly oozing blood onto the sand. “It’s my salvation now.” He looked back up. “If you take me back, I’ll die. If I go through now, maybe whatever’s on the other side can save me.”

  “But it doesn’t work. You’ve already tried it.”

  Merrik looked into his robes at the broken Merveille. “Take us through now unless you want these people to see you like this. They’ll cut you open and play with your insides for the sake of experiment. If you take us through, I can get you to a mender.”

  Merveille’s body pulsed quickly.

  “Please.” Alregon was on the verge of tears. “Don’t you see what’s happening to you?”

  “I do. I’m doing whatever it takes to get what I need. I’m finally within reach of something I’ve wanted my entire life, something I’d go to any length to achieve. There’s no going back.” He went through a small coughing fit, and his arms shook violently as he kept his balance with the basin as support. “I’ll see you again once I’ve become something much more than Merrik Severil the sickly. Tell Asra I’m sorry, but I’ll come back. I’ll come back as the man she deserves.”

  With that, Merrik let a hellacious grin spread across his face as a dull pink glow shot through Merveille’s crippled limb and into the basin. The group stood in awe as Merrik disappeared.

  Need more Ez Ozel?

  Sign up to receive updates directly from Dave Oliver. By joining the newsletter, you'll receive regular news on the status of the author's next work. You'll also get an exclusive free book, which gives an inside look at the mysterious and dangerous priests of Hejira.

  Visit dscoliver.com to sign up and get your free book!