by C S Marks
You think to summon your friend Maji? You think she can protect you? Go on and call her! I will simply eliminate her as well. You know I can do it. Go on then, and condemn your friend to share your fate!
Aryiah stopped running and turned back toward Karatsu, who chose that moment to take wing, flying round the chamber and cawing in his harsh crow’s voice: “Call her! Call her!”
At last, Aryiah broke her silence. “Who invades my home and my thoughts, and threatens me with death? This is not the first time I have sensed your presence—I cast my thoughts out to you days ago. Give me your name, and let us do battle. It may not be Aryiah who draws her last breath.” She crouched down and drew her lips back over her teeth in a sort of desperate snarl, trying to follow the flight of the evil bird with cloudy, useless eyes.
Karatsu, as with all birds of his kind, was mischievous by nature. Yet he was not aggressive or violent, and Kotos needed to exert considerable strength of will to force him to attack. He dropped down hard upon Aryiah, using claws and dagger-like beak to mar her face. She snatched at him, but he was too quick, and she only succeeded in pulling out a few of his feathers. Kotos breathed a proverbial sigh of relief as he directed the bird back to the ledge, for if his host became disabled it would affect the course of the plan.
Orrion, who waited below, was even now setting fire to the tower as he had been instructed. Though fire would not kill Kotos, he did not wish to burn within the tower. He needed to be back on the ground, directing the “heroic” Orrion in a valiant but vain attempt to rescue poor Aryiah, whom he would never have met.
Aryiah would not be taken easily. She began chanting in her strange voice, swaying to and fro, like a mongoose menacing a serpent. She sent her spirit forth, and Kotos met her in the eerie half-light of her seer’s vision, where nothing was as it appeared. There he engaged her, and they battled for several minutes, just long enough for the first sign of smoke to curl under the gap in the chamber door.
Aryiah and Kotos strove with one another, the light of her spirit attempting to overcome his suffocating darkness, as moment by moment her chance of escaping her fate ebbed away. At last her strength flagged, for she was old, and she was mortal. She broke apart from Kotos, trying for one final time to force him from her. “Get back, Serpent of Evil! I see you for who you are, and you cannot prevail. Leave me and my people in peace!”
You see only what I have allowed you to see. You think you can defeat me only because I have kept much of my power hidden. It grows every time the soul of a man is turned to Darkness, and that has happened so many, many times! Look you now upon the evil that men have done!
He sent an incredible, horrifying stream of visions through her, detailing the most terrible, perverse aberrations he had witnessed. The greed, hatred, cowardice, ignorance, and ill will of a thousand generations of men hit Aryiah with full force, and her spirit was overcome. She gave one terrible, wailing cry, and was forever silent. Kotos vanquished her, leaving her to stare ahead with her sightless eyes, unmoving and unfeeling, her inner sight destroyed. She could not hear the alarm bells ringing.
Just before Karatsu left the tower, Kotos bowed before Aryiah, reflecting that in the end he had shown mercy by leaving her in such a mindless state, for she would feel nothing of smoke or flame. Though no match for him, she had been a respectable adversary, and it was no less than she deserved.
Maji had been the first to discover the fire, for she had sensed ill fortune and had been roused from her bed. She rang the nearest alarm bell and tried to open the large, wooden door at the bottom of the stairwell, but it would not move. Gorgon had blocked it from the inside after setting the fire, and had climbed out through one of the windows.
The people tried, but no man of the City was large or powerful enough to break down the oaken door without a battering-ram. Several of the men went in search of one as Maji ran outside, wailing and wringing her hands, calling out to her friend.
“Aryiah! Aryiah! Climb up to your window, and jump down. We will catch you!”
Hallagond, Estle, El-morah, and Azori had made their way to Aryiah’s doorway, for they were quartered nearby. Thick smoke billowed from the top of the tower, but the fire brigade had not as yet arrived.
Kotos had already left Karatsu. The crow flew over the heads of the people outside, screaming and cawing in alarm as a heavy rain began to fall.
Orrion emerged from out of the rain like a tall tower of muscle and sinew. Though he did not appear to be as massive as Gorgon Elfhunter, he was still easily the largest two-legged being in the City. Hope surged in the hearts of many as he pushed his way forward past the others in the corridor. He leaped toward the heavy door, set his shoulder, and smashed all of his considerable weight against it again and again. The door was beginning to give way after four or five attempts, and everyone wondered whether Orrion would be broken, for his face was drawn into an agony of effort as he threw himself forward, jarring his entire body with enough force to surely damage it.
He stepped back and composed himself, sweating heavily and breathing hard, preparing for one last attempt, when El-morah noticed an ominous red glow visible from the gap under the door, stepped forward, and placed his hand upon it. It was hot enough that he pulled back at once, turning to Orrion and shaking his head, shouting over the din.
“We must not open the door, or it will mean the deaths of everyone standing here. The heat inside is too great, and the space is too narrow. We will all be killed if you open the door— you most certainly.” He turned to Maji, who was now weeping, knowing that her friend was lost. “I’m sorry.”
The heart-wrenching look of despair that formed on Orrion’s face convinced everyone present that he would have died trying to save Aryiah, and their admiration for him grew deeper, as Kotos had intended.
A huge plume of flame and smoke erupted from the tower at that moment, and there was nothing for Maji to do but watch, and wait for the coming of dawn.
It took some time for the last of the smoldering embers to die down so that the ruins of Aryiah’s tower could be entered. Members of the fire brigade stood with El-morah and Azori, discussing how best to proceed. The mortar holding the stones had been damaged and weakened by the intense heat. Such a structure would be unsafe to enter, and climbing the staircase would be out of the question. The heavy oaken door was still standing, though on the inside it had been reduced to charcoal; the flames had been directed upward by the flow of air, for the tower was really nothing more than an enormous chimney.
El-morah wondered whether any part of the structure would now be safe. “If the tower falls, the weight of it may crush the roof of the corridor, and Maji’s quarters,” he said. “She should be kept elsewhere until we are certain.”
The men opened the door with ease now, for the lock had melted and burned away. Azori and El-morah stepped through it with great caution, for they understood the danger. They had knowledge of fires, which were common in desert realms. The very dry air and cold nights made people shelter around poorly-shielded grates in what were essentially tinder boxes. Though there was always a bucket of sand nearby to smother a small fire, water was scarce. Once a fire truly started, it almost always grew out of control.
El-morah had often been pressed into service fighting fires in the Chupa. His tasks had been twofold—to save any persons trapped within, and to prevent the spread of the fire to neighboring structures. Saving any burning structure was known to be impossible.
Azori’s experience with fire was more sinister, for one or two of his men held knowledge of how to set fires with intent, but make them appear to have started by accident. They were sometimes well paid for this service, usually performed to eliminate an enemy or to cover up evidence of a crime. While Azori had never set such a fire himself, he had witnessed several that had been intentionally set, and his men had imparted some knowledge of their craft. He stepped carefully through the embers, curious as to what had burned so fiercely in a structure made up predominantly of stone. In fact, there
had been heavy draperies hung about the walls of the stairwell for warmth, and the railings had been of wood, with carpeted stairs. Stone stairs were slippery otherwise, and it was felt that the carpeted ones were safer. Yet it still did not seem to be enough to set the entire tower ablaze.
In fact, Gorgon had doused the entire base of the staircase, as well as the draperies, with oil. The oil had provided plenty of fuel, particularly when combined with the air flowing through the windows that were set in three rows up the tower’s length. Gorgon had actually set the blaze with an oil lamp that was supposed to be secured upon the wall just inside the doorway; he knocked the bracket from the wall to make it appear that the lamp had fallen on its own. Such a tragic accident!
Azori shook his head slowly as he examined the scene. Hallagond approached him from behind, startling him by tapping him on the shoulder. “You’re lucky I didn’t have a weapon in my hands,” Azori grumbled, fixing Hallagond with a look that might have set the embers on fire again.
“Sorry. I didn’t realize you were so deep in thought,” said Hallagond, who was disinclined to joke with Azori on such a somber occasion. “Can you make anything out of this?”
“It appears that the lamp fell from the wall, broke into pieces and set the draperies on fire,” said Azori. “Either that, or someone has gone to some lengths to make it appear that way.”
“Well, which is it?” asked Hallagond.
“I cannot say for certain,” replied Azori. “And not being certain, I would prefer to reserve opinion. No sense in looking for demons that don’t exist. Besides, we wouldn’t want to alert any villains that we are wise to them, would we? Not that there are any to alert…but just in case there are.”
He moved to stand with the chief of the fire brigade and held a short conversation with him. Later that day, it was announced to the citizens that one of their number had been taken from them in a tragic accident. Everyone was advised to make certain that all metal lamp-brackets were firm and secure.
Azori did not know Aryiah, but he did know the culture of the City, and it did not seem likely that a peaceable society could spawn such a cruel act. Yet he also knew much of the evil that can sometimes infect the hearts of men, and as such he would reserve judgment. There were things he had seen in the stairwell that would not allow him to do otherwise.
As a result of his unsuccessful attempt to break down Aryiah’s heavy door, Orrion’s left shoulder was now badly bruised. He lay in the public bath at midnight, soaking in the warm waters, massaging the shoulder gingerly with his right hand. The scent of Gorgon was slowly diluted and removed from his body in the soothing waters, and he was comforted, yet he muttered concern to Kotos.
“I do hope that no one took notice…I must confess that I have finally become aware of my own stench. I sweated hard in the corridor.”
Be grateful that you were surrounded by men. Many of them were sweating as well. Their stench is not all that much better than your own. Do not fear.
“They say they’re going to pull down the tower. Apparently, it is unsafe. There will be nothing for them to discover that will arouse suspicion, will there?”
Nothing whatever, said Kotos. You needn’t worry about them. They now believe you to be heroic as well as impressive. You did an excellent job of appearing to be heartbroken when you were forced to abandon the rescue. Well done.
“That was mostly your doing,” growled Gorgon. “I have never expressed such regrets in my life.”
True, but you have proven to be a most receptive and willing vessel for my direction. You have learned to allow me to guide you in all things, despite your strength of will. That is how we both will prevail. But there is something that still troubles my heart, Elfhunter. There is one who will be putting some pieces together…she has already done so. I have seen it in her eyes.
“You refer to the Wood-elf,” Gorgon rumbled. “Well, I agree. She knew of the Seer, and she has already noticed far too much.”
We could take care of that problem, you and I. She is only one small Wood-elf. She could easily meet with a tragic accident, and then we will not need to be so wary. She is the only one who still holds the likelihood of discovering who you really are.
“That may be, but I must take her alone, and in my own time, and in my own way,” Gorgon muttered in a voice that was deadly quiet. “Someday it will be my greatest pleasure to eliminate her, but I will not share that pleasure with anyone, including you. Do not suggest it again.”
Very well, have it your way. If you will not eliminate her, we should plant the seeds we need to plant, and then leave them to grow and take root. We should do it soon, before your identity becomes suspect. Now I shall think on how best to proceed. Do not disturb me. With those words, Kotos flowed once more into the amulet, leaving Gorgon alone with his thoughts. Neither being was entirely comfortable in the presence of the other, and Kotos needed time to make careful plans. He wondered which of the Company would be the most trustworthy. Who among them was most innocent, such that it would be difficult to doubt their words? He needed to make a wise choice, for the entire remainder of his plan depended on it. Though he had spent relatively little time interacting with the Company, the choice finally came to him.
As Gorgon lay in the bath, he wondered about many things. Always he had prided himself on his fearsome appearance, striving to look threatening and terrible. And he had been generally pleased with the result—there were not many with the strength of heart to stand before him, not even the Elves. One look at him and their strength left them. Of course, because he stalked them and came on them unaware, it was small wonder that they lost their nerve, as they were usually wounded unto death by the time they even got a look at him. He had always considered his ugliness to be an asset. Yet now, he wondered.
Orrion was beautiful and impressive. People looked on him with admiration, and they even asked him for his opinion. They made him fine clothes and brought him gifts. They respected Orrion where they would never have respected Gorgon. Yet were Orrion and Gorgon not the same being?
Well, there is the small matter of Lord Kotos, yet Orrion is the Elfhunter, too. Beauty, it seems, is really the beguiling influence. Gorgon smiled. He would almost regret returning to his former appearance because he was ever so much more dangerous in this form. I could influence people, incite them, break their hearts, unite them, or tear them apart. I wonder…will I ever again be content to simply terrify them?
Yet he could not let himself fall into the trap. Beauty required the amulet, and the amulet came with Lord Kotos attached. Gorgon was both weary and wary of Kotos, and in his heart he longed for the time when all thoughts were his own.
Chapter 9
THE SEED IS PLANTED
Gaelen was shocked and saddened upon learning of the death of Aryiah. She had been away from the City, having wandered for miles to the south under the tall forest canopy, alone with her thoughts.
When I am near Orrion I cannot think clearly, and apparently neither can anyone else. I don’t want to air my concerns—I know how ridiculous they sound. Rogond is right…it’s absurd to think that Orrion and Gorgon share any connection whatsoever…yet I have seen Gorgon’s very soul. His most powerful manifestation looked very much like Orrion…perhaps the connection is not as absurd as it sounds.
She had been alerted, as had every other Elf in the City, by Aryiah’s final cry of despair. The Elves had felt this rather than heard it, Gaelen in particular, because she had shared spiritual communion with Aryiah on a time. Then she heard the alarm bells, the sound carried on the north wind. By the time she drew near enough to see the tower, there was nothing to be done.
Everyone praised the heroic actions of El-morah, Azori, and especially Orrion, whose esteem had risen even higher, if possible. There were tears in the eyes of many who witnessed his heart-wrenching failure; the hearts of the people went out to him in his despondency. But when Gaelen heard that Orrion had been present at all, immediate suspicion flared within her. Ary
iah would have been no friend of Gorgon Elfhunter, and if he was managing some illusion to disguise himself, Aryiah might have unmasked him.
The next morning, when El-morah and Azori returned from examining the ruins of the tower, they found Gaelen waiting for them. She was deadly serious as she questioned them about the night’s events. She wanted to know exactly when Orrion had appeared and what all of his actions were, in detail.
El-morah described Orrion’s thwarted attempt to break down the door. “He was heartbroken when we told him he would have to give it up. I thought for a moment he was going to weep. I don’t believe I have ever seen deeper disappointment.” He turned to Azori. “Perhaps we should look in on him…I would imagine his shoulder is causing him great discomfort today.”
Azori nodded in agreement, but his eyes were fixed on Gaelen. “Yes, we should look in on him if he will allow it. He is very reclusive during daylight, I’ve noticed.” Gaelen brightened at this. Perhaps Azori was seeing some of what she was seeing.
“Can you blame him?” said El-morah. “He has curious admirers following him around always. No doubt he enjoys his solitude.”
“Let’s go and look in on him then,” said Azori, as El-morah turned and left the chamber. Azori remained behind just long enough to speak to Gaelen.
“There were things about that fire that will not allow me to call it an accident, even though I have done so, for I don’t have any real proof—more of intuition than physical evidence. But I have seen the doubt when you look at Orrion, and I want you to know that I share some of it. I can say no more.”
Gaelen nodded, her large eyes full of somber gratitude, as Azori turned and left her alone with her thoughts once more.
Kotos was not infallible, but he was very perceptive, and he sensed that his deception was beginning to show too many imperfections. He had seen doubt in the eyes of the woman who had measured Orrion for his new garments. He had heard rumors about suspicions held by some members of the fire brigade. And, of course, there was Gaelen. She was getting closer, sniffing him out like a mangy hound.