Darkblade Slayer

by Andy Peloquin

  Sir Danna’s eyes went from the dead monster at her feet to the Hunter standing atop the cliff. "This changes nothing!" she shouted. "I will still hunt you down!"

  "Go home, Sir Danna," the Hunter called. "I am not your enemy."

  The Hunter turned and strode away from the cliff's edge before she could reply. If she answered, he did not hear it.

  He had eyes only for the sight that greeted him as he looked up.

  Enarium!

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  The Lost City of the Serenii sat atop a distant mountain peak, like a brilliant crown of white and blue nestled on a pedestal of shining red and grey stone. A towering wall of pristine white marble loomed above the surface of the plateau upon which it sat. Beyond, enormous structures scraped the belly of the sky, their glassy exteriors reflecting the sunlight in a near-blinding wall of radiance.

  Three concentric rings of monolithic towers, built of what looked like solid blue sapphires, surrounded a single looming spire in the heart of the city. The structures seemed to bend inward, as if paying homage to the stronghold standing guard over Enarium. Clouds concealed the uppermost reaches of the tower, almost as if the Serenii had built a fortress to take to the heavens and challenge the gods themselves.

  The sight of the city nearly brought tears to the Hunter's eyes. He'd seen the works of the Serenii around Einan—from the Black Spire in Praamis to the twin temples in Kara-ket—but nothing had prepared him for the breathtaking grandeur of Enarium. More than the staggering beauty, however, was the knowledge that he had, in a way, come home. Somewhere in that sea of glass and steel waited the woman he'd crossed a world to see. The hunt for the Sage and the need to cure Hailen's Irrsinnon faded for a single moment as he pictured that face he'd seen a thousand times in his dream.

  Golden hair framed Her face, accentuating Her soft nose, high cheekbones, and full lips. He could envision Her eyes—they remained concealed by the shadows of his forgotten past—but he knew what he'd see there.

  My wife.

  But first he had to reach the Lost City. He stood atop a flat plateau that stretched for leagues to the north and south, yet only twenty steps from east to west. On the far side, he could see the rocky trail wending at a sharp incline up the mountain toward the single peak that stood between him and Enarium. Four black stones stood silent vigil atop that rise, and he didn't need to sense the stench of rot and decay emanating from the Dolmenrath to feel the foreboding tightening in his gut. Those monoliths, made of a stone darker than obsidian, held immense power.

  It would take him at least five or six hours to climb the hill to the Dolmenrath. A glance at the sun told him he had three or four hours until nightfall. No way they'd reach Enarium before dark fell. He ground his teeth in frustration. Every hour of delay gave the Sage more time to carry out his plan.

  First, he had to find a way down.

  Hailen trotted along beside him as he strode toward the far edge of the cliff. As he'd expected, the unbroken cliffs had been another obstacle blocking the way to Enarium. Perhaps there would be some way to get through, some Serenii runes that unlocked the path. If, as Sir Danna had said, all Cambionari knew the way to Enarium, she would know how to get through the cliffs. That meant he had to keep moving to stay ahead of her.

  He judged the distance to the ground. The cliffs were at least ten times his height, and he only had enough rope to span half the distance. So how in the bloody hell am I supposed to get Hailen down?

  It took him a long moment to realize he had only one option: he had to make the climb back down just as he'd made the upward climb. With no nearby trails leading from the clifftop to the trail below, it was his only hope. Climbing down had always proven more challenging than going up, and even more so with the boy's weight dragging on him.

  At least he didn't have to rush it this time. He unwound the coils of rope and used it to fashion a makeshift harness, as Rassek had done at the pulley-crane. He helped Hailen into the harness, lifted the boy onto his back, and secured the ropes around his shoulders and waist, just as he would his pack.

  With horror, he realized that he'd left Hailen's pack below. The boy carried his pack, the one with the Swordsman's twin daggers, but he'd given all his rations to Rassek. He bit back an angry curse. All of their food had been in Hailen's pack. He could survive a day or two without eating, but Hailen would get hungry soon.

  The Hunter helped Hailen clamber into the makeshift harness, slung the pack over one shoulder, and lowered himself over the edge of the cliff to begin the downward climb. It proved slow going, and more than once the Hunter had to stop for fear Hailen's shifting in the makeshift harness would drag him from the rocky face. The upward climb had taken them less than five minutes, but it was nearly half an hour later when the Hunter finally stepped onto the rubble-strewn trail at the base of the cliff. His arms and shoulders ached, and his legs trembled from the effort.

  The Hunter smiled at the sound of gentle snoring coming from his back. The exertion and emotional turmoil of the day had taken a toll on the boy. In a way, the Hunter preferred that Hailen slept. The boy wasn't built for the steep climb up the incline. Though it would be exhausting, at least they'd cover ground faster with Hailen on his back.

  He gritted his teeth as he adjusted the weight of Hailen and his pack, then began the climb. Sweat streamed down his face and soaked his tunic, and he found his mouth was parched. He dug into his pack for their waterskin and found it nearly empty. After drinking just a few drops, he re-stoppered it and replaced it in their pack. Hailen would need the water more than he did.

  The ache in his head had grown steadily worse in the last few days, but he'd gotten so accustomed to the dull pain he hardly noticed it. Now, the force of the shrieking, screaming, pleading, demanding voice in his mind sapped his strength and only amplified his exhaustion. It felt like the weight of the world rested on his shoulders, and his body strained under the burden.

  Yet he could feel Her presence, like a beacon guiding him onward. He was so close to finding Her. He'd crossed an entire continent, defeated men and demons, all so he could reach Enarium in the hopes of being reunited. How could he stop now when She waited just beyond the horizon?

  With effort, he forced his legs to move, one step after another, up the steep incline, every muscle in his body aching. When fatigue and pain threatened to overwhelm him, he clung to a single thought: he just had to keep going, and he'd see Her again soon.

  The sun dipped toward the horizon and painted the world in brilliant hues. Darkness settled like a blanket atop the mountains, and still he climbed. The stars twinkled down on him as he forced his leaden feet to keep moving, his numb legs to propel him onward.

  How long he walked, he didn't know. It could have been five minutes or five centuries. The cool wind caressed his face and ruffled his clothing, but it could not diminish the fire in his muscles. He forced himself to take long, deep breaths as he climbed. Everything but the ground beneath his feet faded from view.

  The rope harness dug into his shoulders, but he pushed the pain from his mind. His spine ached from hunching against the weight of Hailen and his pack, but he ignored it. One more step, then another. Onward without stopping.

  Eventually, exhaustion and exertion triumphed, and the Hunter could climb no longer. He lowered Hailen gently to the ground and, with a gasp, slumped to a seat. The stone felt so cool against his back, the breeze so soothing. The beating of his heart and the fire in his muscles drowned out all thought.

  When he closed his eyes, the dreams washed over him.

  * * *

  A voice, deeper than the ocean and wider than the empty sky, rumbled through his mind, but he could not understand the words. Fear tinged its words—what could make a being of such immense power fear so?

  The knowledge of what he had to do sat like a mountain on his shoulders, but he had no choice but to bear the burden. He and all those of his kind. They alone could do what needed to be done. They alone could save mank
ind.

  The words crystallized in his mind. THE DEVOURER OF WORLDS COMES.

  * * *

  The force of that tremendous voice snapped him awake.

  The first rays of morning light pierced his eyelids and dragged him from his exhausted rest. The ache in his head returned with consciousness. The demon's shrieking made him want to drive a spike into his own brain until it fell silent. He squeezed his eyes shut until the pain diminished to a tolerable throbbing.

  His mind raced. What in the bloody hell was that?

  Where had that dream—no, that memory--come from? He'd never experienced anything like it. The power in the voice, a voice capable of shattering worlds, sent a shudder down his spine. Yet he knew he'd heard it before. It had given him a mission, but what? What was it that only he and his kind could do?

  The Devourer of Worlds. He'd sensed the voice's fear at those words. Whoever the voice belonged to had to be afraid of Kharna. Though humankind called Kharna “the Destroyer”, but some knew him as Devourer of Worlds. The name had come up again when the Elivasti in Kara-ket had sworn an oath to the Sage. Something about that name brought an instinctive shiver of terror down his spine, something he'd never experienced, not even the moment when he felt the massive heartbeat in the Serenii tunnels beneath Voramis.

  So what in the Keeper's name does it all mean?

  The answer hadn't come to him by the time Hailen awoke a few minutes later. No sign of the previous day's exhaustion remained, but the boy had once again become his usual cheerful self.

  "What's for breakfast?" he asked in his high-pitched voice, his grin bright.

  "I don’t know," the Hunter snapped, then winced at his harsh tone. Hailen bore no fault for his irritation; his fatigue and the gravity of his bewildering dream were to blame. He drew in a deep breath and struggled to swallow his annoyance. "We'll have to find some food later. It was in your pack, which got left back there."

  Hailen's brow furrowed, then brightened. "Oh, what if we eat this?" He dug into his pack and produced the red-and-purple mushroom.

  "See the bright colors?" the Hunter asked. "That means it's poisonous to eat."

  "Like it's poisonous to those nasty monsters?"

  The Hunter nodded. "Right. So we can't eat them. We'll need them if the nasty monsters return."

  Hailen tucked the toadstool back into his pouch and fumbled among the items. "What about this?" He held a small scrap of dried beef.

  "You eat that," the Hunter said. "I'll get some food later."

  Concern filled Hailen's eyes. "But you're going to be hungry."

  The Hunter gave him what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "I'll be fine."

  After a moment, the boy stuffed the little piece of meat into his mouth. The Hunter drank a few more drops of water, then gave Hailen the last few sips. He concealed his anxiety from the boy as he shouldered his pack. He had no idea what awaited him in Enarium. Who knew if they'd find food or water ahead? Yet he couldn't worry about that now. He had to focus on reaching the city first.

  The Hunter glanced at the trail ahead of them. They were at least an hour from the standing stones at the top, perhaps closer to two if they went at Hailen's pace. He dared not let himself think about what awaited him once they reached the top and crossed the last few hundred paces to reach Enarium. His excitement from the previous day had faded to nervous anticipation. What if She wasn't there? Worse still, what if She was there and didn't remember him? And what of their child? After all this time, he or she would be a child no longer. Would he come face to face with a man or woman that hated him for abandoning them? What could he say? How could words hope to make up for centuries, millennia even, spent apart?

  He pushed the thoughts aside and focused on Hailen. The boy seemed on the verge of tears of exhaustion. He didn't dare take Hailen's hands and risk the bleeding effect, but he couldn't stand to see the boy suffering so.

  "Do you want to ride on my back?" he asked.

  "Yes." Hailen nodded, scrubbing his eyes.

  The Hunter used the rope to form a makeshift harness to carry Hailen. Once he'd situated the boy in place, careful not to let Hailen's skin come in contact with his, he resumed the upward trek. The burning ache in his spine, legs, and shoulders soon returned, and he found himself fighting to keep climbing. The voice in his head grew louder with every step closer to Enarium. The shrieking grew so painful his vision blurred for whole minutes at a time. The voice made it impossible to think of anything beyond gritting his teeth and putting one foot in front of the other.

  "Hardwell." Hailen's voice sounded like it came from a thousand leagues away. "They're coming, Hardwell."

  That snapped the Hunter from his exhausted trance. He glanced down the trail and saw two figures below. His heart stopped as he recognized the heavily-armored figure riding in the lead. Kiara followed Sir Danna. Their horses had somehow survived, and they closed the distance up the hill far faster than he'd like.

  His mind raced. He'd left them on the other side of the cliffs, but Sir Danna had to have known the way through. The way through could have opened at dawn to allow them through. Whatever lead he'd gained was negated by the fact that the Cambionari had horses.

  Keeper curse her to the fiery hell! She would not relent. He had saved her life—inadvertently, in his attempt to save Kiara—yet she remained hell-bent on killing him.

  At that moment, the cool mountain breeze carried a familiar, gut-wrenching smell: the odor of rot and decay. Hope surged within the Hunter. He'd climbed more of the slope than he realized. There, not fifty paces away, at the top of the incline, stood the four massive standing stones.

  He forced himself to climb faster, half-running the last distance to the Dolmenrath. It would end here, one way or another. Sir Danna would die—and Kiara, if necessary. Nothing would stop him from reaching Enarium now.

  The rancid stench of putrescence grew almost unbearable as he crested the incline and staggered into the ring of stones. His eyes darted up the trail beyond toward Enarium in the distance. Just five hundred paces from where he stood, the white marble walls of the Lost City rose high into the morning sky, reflecting the bright sunlight. The gate into Enarium stood open—so close, yet so far. He ached to sprint the last remaining distance to the place where he would be reunited with Her, but he dared not. Not yet.

  He released the rope harness from his back and helped Hailen to sit.

  Hailen flinched back from the obsidian monoliths. "Hardwell, I don't like this place," he whimpered.

  With good reason. The first time he'd been within one of the Dolmenrath, he'd watched the Hunter slaughter more than sixty bandits. His blood had activated the power within the stones. That had been the day Hailen's heritage as Elivasti—as Melechha—had manifested.

  "I know you don't, but this is where we have to be," the Hunter said, crouching before the boy. He drew a small throwing knife and held it out to Hailen. "If anything happens to me, I need you to activate the stones. Do you know how to do that?"

  Hailen nodded. "My blood," he said in a plaintive whisper.

  "The bad people are going to try to hurt me, but I'm counting on you to save me. Can you do that?"

  "Yes." Hailen's lip trembled and tears rimmed his eyes, but he took the dagger anyway. "I can save you, like you saved me."

  The Hunter wanted to embrace the boy, to squeeze his hand, to reassure him that everything would be okay, but he didn't dare. He could only give the boy a silent nod before he stood and turned toward the entrance to the Dolmenrath.

  To face Sir Danna one last time.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Sir Danna reined in ten paces down the trail. Even from this distance, the Hunter could see the deep scratches, scuffs, and dents in her once-shining armor. She'd lost her helm, gauntlets, her right vambrace, and her left greave. She sat slumped in her saddle, but her fatigue hadn't dimmed the fire of hatred in eyes.

  "Haven't you had enough, Sir Danna?" the Hunter called down. "Haven't you lost eno
ugh men to this foolish quest?"

  "Foolish?" Anger twisted her expression into a snarl. "It is not foolish to seek justice for those who can no longer do it themselves. It is not foolish to hunt down an assassin and murderer." She straightened and reached for her sword.

  "I already told you what happened that night." The Hunter shook his head. "I had no desire to kill any of them, but they forced my hand. They cornered me and would have killed me—"

  "As they were trained to!" Sir Danna's shout caused her horse to shift beneath her. "They answered the Beggar God's call to arms, dedicated their lives in his service."

  "Then they died in his service as well. Isn't that supposed to be your highest calling in life? To lay down your lives following your god's orders?"

  "Trust a demon to twist scripture to suit his needs," Sir Danna spat. "You cannot call your actions 'just' or 'righteous'."

  "Neither can you." The Hunter crossed his arms. "All who followed you are dead. You led them to their graves on your misguided quest for vengeance."

  "Vengeance?" Sir Danna opened her mouth to retort, but the Hunter cut her off.

  "You may pretend it's justice," he said, "but I see the hatred that consumes your heart. I recognize it all too well. Ask Kiara what happened when I let it guide my actions."

  Sir Danna glanced at Kiara, and the woman gave a little nod. "He speaks the truth, Danna."

  "The demons harmed those I cared for," the Hunter said, "and I sought vengeance. But vengeance didn't bring back Farida, and it won't bring Visibos back, either. Don't pretend you're doing this for him."