Darkblade Slayer

by Andy Peloquin

  "Help me!" he shouted to Evren.

  The young thief stared wide-eyed, rooted in place by shock.

  "Evren!" The Hunter's voice cracked like a whip. "Give me a hand here, now!"

  Evren met the Hunter's gaze, then something seemed to click into place behind his eyes and he leapt over a heavy stone toward them.

  "Grab his ankles," the Hunter instructed. "Hold them fast so he doesn't hurt himself while thrashing around."

  Evren caught Hailen's flailing legs and wrestled them under control. The Hunter gripped Hailen's wrists in one hand and cradled the boy's head in his other arm. His mind raced. What could he do to help the boy?

  His eyes went to Hailen's bare chest, and horror spiked in his gut as he realized the boy had removed Soulhunger to swim. He whirled and scanned the rocky shore for the dagger. It lay twenty paces away with the rest of their clothing.

  "What's bein’ the matter with him?" A dripping Rassek rushed toward them, his brow furrowed in concern.

  "Bring me that dagger!" the Hunter shouted. He didn't dare release Hailen's wrist, so he jerked his head in the direction of their clothing.

  A confused look crossed the mountaineer's face. "Dagger? Why would—"

  "Hurry!" The Hunter's gut clenched as Hailen cried out, and a stream of unintelligible shrieks and confused words poured from the boy's mouth. "Come on, Hailen. Stay with me, lad." He gritted his teeth and clutched the boy tighter.

  Time passed in an achingly slow crawl as Hailen jerked and twitched in his arms. The Hunter cradled the boy's head to prevent him knocking it against the rocks, but he couldn’t prevent the stones from cutting the boy's legs, elbows, and bare back.

  Relief flooded him as Rassek raced toward him and held out Soulhunger. "Here!"

  The Hunter released his grip on Hailen's wrists, snatched the sheathed dagger, and pressed it against Hailen's chest.

  Come on, come on! To his relief, Hailen's convulsions slowed, until, with a final shuddering jerk, he lay still.

  The Hunter let out a long, ragged breath. The sight of Hailen had filled him with terror. For a moment, he'd feared he had lost the boy to the madness forever. But the gemstone in Soulhunger's hilt, handiwork of the Serenii, had pushed back the Irrsinnon. For now, at least. A stopgap, not a cure.

  He looked up at Evren. "You can let go of him now. It has passed."

  Evren released Hailen’s legs, but stared at the boy with surprise and fear written in his eyes. He backed away slowly and returned to his seat on the rock, his gaze never leaving the little body lying in the Hunter's lap.

  Rassek, however, moved closer and crouched over Hailen. "What's the matter with him?"

  The Hunter hesitated. "The healers at the Sanctuary offered no answer." It was easier to lie than explain the curse of the Elivasti.

  Darillon had come up behind them, and his brow furrowed as he stared down at Soulhunger. "Why did the dagger stop whatever it was?" He lifted his eyes, his gaze searching. "What aren't you telling us?"

  More than you could possibly know. Though the Hunter had returned his features to normal, he had expended enough energy to keep his eyes a deep brown instead of their usual midnight black. No sense giving his companions anything else to be suspicious about.

  "Something about the steel helps to calm whatever affects the boy." Another lie, another simpler explanation than the truth of Soulhunger's true origin and abilities. "It's why he carries it with him at all times."

  Darillon's expression grew skeptical, but the Hunter met his gaze without hesitation. After a moment, the mountaineer gave a small shrug. "Do we need to turn back? Get him back to a healer?"

  "No," the Hunter said, perhaps a little too quickly. "We press onward. He will be fine."

  To forestall further questions, he gathered Hailen's little body into his arms and strode toward the cave. He set Hailen gently inside their tent, ensuring Soulhunger remained pressed close to the boy’s chest. Physical contact with the dagger wasn't necessary, but the Hunter wouldn't take any chances.

  I can't let that happen again. He's not strong enough to survive it.

  Even now, he had no idea how the seizure had affected Hailen. When the boy woke, would he be lost in his own mind, his eyes as empty and blank as his expression? He could only hope Soulhunger kept the Irrsinnon at bay a little longer.

  He checked Hailen's back, ribs, and limbs for injuries. Nothing but scratches, thankfully. He wiped the blood from the boy's body and took extra care to clean his nails. The others had to have seen the boy's fingernails bleeding, but hopefully they'd write it off as another injury from the convulsions. If not, it would be one more thing too complicated to explain.

  He sighed and sat back on his heels, watching the slow rhythm of Hailen's chest. The boy slept, doubtlessly exhausted by the seizure. He ached to help Hailen, but he was helpless against a curse passed down through the boy’s Elivasti blood. He could only hope Hailen would rest the night through and awake in the morning with no memory of what had happened.

  And what if he doesn’t wake at all? Or his mind is gone, claimed by the madness?

  His couldn't erase the image of Hailen's twitching, jerking body from his mind. He'd seen this before with Aerden, Master Eldor's son. The boy had died from the opia, but the Irrsinnon would have killed him had he not been subjected to the Expurgation, the Elivasti ritual of cleansing. Hailen would share the same fate if he didn't find a cure soon. With Kara-ket far behind, his only hope lay in reaching Enarium. The Warmaster had mentioned a source of the opia bloomed in the Lost City. If he couldn't find a way to cure the boy without exposing him to the dangers of the Expurgation, he might have to risk it. No way could he let Hailen suffer this again.

  But he didn't know how to reach Enarium. All he had was a hint from the Sage. He reached for the Taivoro book that, according to the demon, contained the secrets to reaching the Lost City. He crawled out of the low tent, sat before the little fire Darillon had built, and opened the book. Right now, it didn't matter if Rassek, Darillon, or Evren saw him with the stolen volume. They had come too far from Vothmot for it to make a difference. But he had to crack its secrets for Hailen's sake.

  He forced himself to ignore the story, despite his interest in finding out what happened to the bard. Instead, he focused on finding something, anything that could help him decipher Taivoro's hidden messages. He studied the shape of the letters, the spacing between the lines, even the colors of the paper upon which the story was written. Minutes bled into hours as he pored over the pages, seeking a clue.

  His frustration mounted with every passing minute. Each time he turned a page, he hoped this would be the one that revealed the book's hidden secrets. Yet, by the time he reached the hundredth page and the Journeyman's tenth paramour, he had found nothing.

  His mind raced over the code Bardin had mentioned back in Malandria. The Taivoran shift, he called it. The code involved shifting the letters of the hidden words a certain number of characters to produce a new word that appeared as gibberish to anyone who didn’t have the correct cipher. But there was no way the Hunter could use it on every page of the book. There were simply too many letters, words, and paragraphs for him to know where to begin. He had no idea how many letters he'd have to shift, or if Taivoro had used some other code unknown to him.

  He stood with a frustrated growl, and it took all his willpower not to hurl the book against the wall of the cavern. He settled for clenching his fists until his forearms trembled with the effort. He would have ripped the book apart if it didn't contain the information he so desperately needed.

  No, not that I need. That Hailen needs.

  He’d sworn to protect the boy from harm. He had refused to deliver him to Father Reverentus, even though he had known the Beggar Priests would care for him. What happened to Hailen was on him now. If the boy died or succumbed to madness, that burden would rest squarely on his shoulders. After Farida, Bardin, and Master Eldor, he wasn't certain he could bear another loss, another death beca
use of his actions and choices.

  He felt eyes burning into his back. Looking up, he found Evren’s gaze fixed on him. The young thief's gaze flashed once to the book in his hand, but he focused on the Hunter's bare chest—and the scars etched into his flesh.

  The Hunter glanced down. Once, he’d had hundreds of scars, each for a death at his hands. Soulhunger etched a new mark in his flesh for every life he took. In Voramis, something—he still wasn’t quite certain what—had erased the scars. He’d accumulated dozens more in his journey through Malandria, Al Hani, and Kara-ket. Yet, as he emerged from the passages beneath Shana Laal, he’d once again found his scars expunged, with only five remaining to mark the deaths of the six Abiarazi he’d killed. A single, double-marked scar for both the First and the Third in Voramis. One each for Toramin and Garanis in Malandria, Queen Asalah in Al Hani, and the Warmaster in Kara-ket.

  On the road between Shana Laal and Vothmot, he’d added two more to the collection. The first belonged to Master Uqio, the tavernkeeper that had turned Hailen over to the Sage. Though he’d resisted the demon's and the dagger's demands for death as they crossed the Whispering Waste, he had finally succumbed in Saltfall. The village stockade hadn’t presented much of a challenge to the Hunter, and Soulhunger had fed on the lifeblood of a man scheduled to face the hangman’s noose for murder.

  Yet now those two scars were gone. Only the five scars from the demons remained.

  When Evren realized he was caught, he quickly returned to setting up his meager bed beside the two tents. He had chosen a sheltered corner where Darillon and Rassek's tent blocked any wind. Without a word, he slipped under his ragged blankets and lay still.

  “Kill him,” the demon's voice whispered in his mind. The presence was faint, the mental wall he'd built the previous day keeping the demon at bay. However, no matter how hard he tried, he could never fully block out the voice. “He's seen too much.”

  The Hunter pushed back against the voice, shoving it into its confinement. He used the Sage's technique to envision himself fortifying the wall in his mind. The demon tried to fight back, angry and stubborn, but he'd had enough practice in the last few weeks that his will proved superior.

  He stared at the bundle of blankets that concealed Evren. The thief had proven himself clever—from recognizing him as an assassin to his knowledge of the Master's Temple to somehow procuring a horse and travel gear at a day's notice. Yet the Hunter sensed no threat from the young man. Evren was fleeing the Wardens of the Peak, just as the Hunter fled Sir Danna, the Cambionari, the Illusionist Clerics, and everyone else that wanted him dead. The young man wouldn't do anything to jeopardize his place in their little company.

  That didn't mean he could be trusted. Evren was hiding something. The Hunter knew the signs—he'd spent his life concealing his identity and everything about himself from the people around him. The life of a thief could account for the haunted look in the boy's eyes, but something told the Hunter there was more beneath the surface.

  None of that mattered. The people traveling with him were unimportant beyond their ability to get him where he needed to go. Rassek and Darillon were there to guide him toward Enarium. Evren was there because the Hunter hadn't denied his request to travel. Yet, when it came down to it, Hailen was the only thing that mattered.

  Hailen, and reaching Enarium before the Sage freed Kharna. He was running out of time, he could feel it.

  He stared down at the book in his hands. It had held such promise, yet now proved utterly useless. He had no idea how to crack the cipher or find whatever message was hidden within its pages.

  He made to throw it into the fire, but stopped himself. He was tired, frustrated, and worried about Hailen's wellbeing. The lack of results couldn't cause him to give up. He'd try again tomorrow with a clear head.

  For now, I could use a good night's rest. With Hailen beside him, he could sleep without worrying about the demon or Soulhunger's voices driving him mad.

  He kicked dirt to snuff out the dying fire and turned toward his tent, but paused when he saw an odd glow coming from the mouth of the cave. A faint blue light, the same deep shade of the plants in Sapphire Lake.

  The glow turned out to be the plant he'd plucked from the lake for Hailen. He realized he'd brought it out of the lake with him in his rush. Somehow, it must have gotten tangled in his or Hailen's clothing and been carried from the lakeshore up here.

  He studied the glowing flower. It had dozens of perfectly symmetrical petals identical in size and shape to those around it, spreading out in four neat spirals. The smaller petals at the heart of the flower glowed brightest, while the larger petals along the outermost spiral held only a faint luminescence.

  Hailen will love this when he wakes up.

  He had just taken the first step back toward the tent when he suddenly stopped, his jaw dropped in surprise.

  There, on the stone wall of the cave, just above the level of his eyes, were etched two glowing runes.

  Chapter Twenty

  What in the bloody hell?

  He blinked, but even after he rubbed his eyes, the symbols remained visible. His eyes went wide as he realized the runes glowed the same blue as the flower in his hand. The symbols faded when he concealed the flower behind his back, but sprang back into view as he held it up again.

  He recognized the runes immediately. He'd seen thousands just like them in the tunnels beneath Voramis, and again carved into the walls of Kara-ket. The long-dead language of the ancient Serenii.

  Hope surged within him. He had no idea what the runes said, but their presence had to be a sign--literally. The Empty Mountains spanned thousands of leagues, with hundreds of mountain peaks. What were the odds that the Serenii carved their runes into every cave wall in the entire range? And how likely was it that the runes were visible only in the light of the plants that grew in the depths of Sapphire Lake? No, the Serenii had carved these runes here for a reason. What that reason was, he didn't know, but it couldn't be a coincidence.

  He had to be on the right track.

  His mind raced as he tried to figure out his next step. If the Taivoro book proved useless, perhaps he could use the Serenii runes to find his way to Enarium. Which meant he needed the glowing plants to light the runes.

  He stared down at the flower in his hand. The petals emanated a soft, steady glow, even though he had plucked it up by its roots hours earlier. But how long would the light last? He was no botanist or Secret Keeper, and he had no idea how the plants generated the light.

  It didn’t matter. He only cared that the flowers could guide his way.

  Decades spent as an assassin had taught him to always bring more weapons than he believed necessary. If he lost his sword, a back-up dagger or swordbreaker could still take down his target. He'd apply that same principle here. More of the glowing plants meant a higher chance that the light would last long enough for him to find more Serenii runes, right?

  He crouched and peered into his tent. Hailen lay sleeping still, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Though the Hunter's worries for the boy's wellbeing hadn't diminished, his excitement at the discovery ensured he wouldn't fall asleep any time soon. He could survive on an hour or two of sleep. After he gathered more of the glowing plants, of course.

  A biting wind greeted him as he stepped out of the cave. Rassek's prediction proved true; the mountain chill had descended over the peaceful lakeshore, and an icy breeze set the water of Sapphire Lake rippling. Gritting his teeth against the cold, the Hunter strode toward the lake and prepared to dive in. He'd brave even the glaciers of the Frozen Sea if it meant he could find Enarium. He could handle the cold, for Hailen's sake, and his.

  * * *

  Rassek and Darillon seemed surprised to see him awake and tending to the fire when they emerged from their tent before dawn. The two men exchanged a glance, then shrugged and accepted the bowl of gruel the Hunter offered them. Their surprise doubled as they found the breakfast more than just acceptable, but
actually enjoyable. The Hunter had picked up a few tricks of cooking over his months spent on the road.

  Evren thrashed about in his sleep so violently Rassek went over and shook him awake. The young thief bolted upright and scrambled backward, his eyes filled with fear.

  "Easy, lad." Rassek held up empty hands. "Time to be breakin’ yer fast and gettin’ a move on."

  The terror slowly faded from Evren's gaze, and his face hardened as he climbed out of his blankets and came to sit before the fire. He fixed the Hunter with a hard glare, but spooned the meal into his mouth without a word.

  The Hunter poked his head into his tent to check on Hailen. His heart sank as he found the boy awake and staring off into space, his eyes vacant. Hailen seemed not to notice the Hunter dressing him, and he accepted a few spoonfuls of the gruel without protest. It pained the Hunter to see the boy thus; the effects of the Irrsinnon hadn't yet passed. He tried in vain to shove down the nagging worry that the boy would never truly recover.

  His three companions pretended not to notice, but more than once he caught them shooting sidelong glances at the two of them. Finally, he gave up on trying to feed Hailen and set about packing their gear. The sooner they rode out, the sooner he could get away from those questioning eyes. And the sooner they could get on their way to finding Enarium.

  His pack contained nearly a dozen of the glowing plants; more than enough, he hoped. Unless he cracked the secret of the Taivoro book, this was their only way to find the path.

  Rassek and Evren tore down the tents while Darillon covered the fire with dirt. Within half an hour, only a small black circle remained to mark their presence in the cave.

  "Ready fer another day?" Rassek asked with a grin that looked forced. "We should be reachin’ the Black Cliffs before noon, and we ought to have enough time to gain plenty of altitude before dark, says I."

  The Hunter shot a worried glance over at Hailen. The boy sat slumped in his saddle, his eyes glazed over, his features slack. "We'll keep pace."