Tower of the Gods (The Lost Prophecy Book 3)

by D. K. Holmberg

  Salindra studied Jakob a moment, a frown on her face. “A similar practice and one the Magi have attempted to follow as we chose a Uniter… and often failed.” Jakob sensed frustration in her voice. She looked down at Brohmin. “Brohmin Ulruuy was the last Uniter chosen by our people following an ancient prophecy.”

  “But not the same prophecy Brohmin spoke of?” Other than the one he’d described about the Conclave, Jakob had only heard about the prophecy regarding the nemah. Were they the same?

  Salindra looked up at Jakob, her eyes going distant. “Throughout time, some among my people have possessed the ability to glimpse the future. They were called prophets. Some were more skilled than others. There have been seven prophets we refer to as the great prophets. There have been many other minor prophets. Only one minor prophet still lives, an Elder I believe you met.”

  Mage Haerlin had been able to glimpse the future? Had he seen anything about Jakob? Had there been anything that he had recognized?

  Salindra went on, as if not even realizing Jakob was troubled by what she’d said. “We’ve used these prophets to help guide our people. They have seen when we must find this Uniter.” She stared at Brohmin. “We haven’t chosen a Uniter in… many years. Brohmin Ulruuy was the last, our great failing, and it was because of him we began to retreat from the world.”

  “How many came before Brohmin Ulruuy?” Jakob asked.

  Salindra nodded. “I do not know an exact number, but none have been successful. But the last time,” she said, almost reaching for Brohmin, “did not go as my people had intended. Our scholars suspect those of that time did something incorrectly, maybe didn’t follow the prophecy as they should have, because Brohmin did not restore peace. He did not achieve the goals of my people.”

  “What did he do?” Jakob had a hard time imagining Brohmin listening to any suggestion, particularly from the Magi.

  Salindra again looked down at Brohmin. “If he truly is Brohmin Ulruuy, he would be hundreds of years old,” she said. “The records from that time tell of a man willing to destroy in order to restore. It did not go over well with the Council of Elders who chose him.”

  She breathed out slowly. As she did, energy swirled around her, touching briefly upon Brohmin, leading to a slight flash of color before retreating. Did Salindra even know what she was doing? Was she aware that she used the energy in this way?

  Jakob watched her and realized she probably was not.

  “My people had a name for him,” she said.

  “What was it? Jakob asked.

  Salindra chuckled to herself. “He was known as the Great Mistake. He brought violence instead of peace. And yet… no one among those who know of him can deny the fact that through his efforts, peace was restored.”

  Jakob looked down at Brohmin and realized his eyes were open. He had been listening.

  “Yes. Peace was restored,” Brohmin said. “And I was not your Great Mistake. The great mistake was the Magi withdrawing their influence. Look what has happened since.”

  Salindra stiffened.

  “How? How is it possible that you could be this man, that you could be hundreds of years old?” Jakob asked.

  Brohmin's eyes closed again. “I already answered this for you. I served the Conclave, and for that, I was given a gift.”

  “Like the Deshmahne?” Jakob asked.

  Brohmin's eyes flickered open again, and for a moment, they flashed with hot anger. “Not like the Deshmahne.” He stared at Jakob for a moment and then the anger subsided, easing away, as if it had not been there.

  Jakob shivered. He didn't want to anger Brohmin, and should not have made such an accusation. And yet he didn't understand. How could he understand, when what they were dealing with, these events, were beyond his comprehension?

  “After the Magi named me the Uniter, the Conclave came to me. I was tested much as the Uniters have been tested for centuries. It was then that I first met the daneamiin, and then that I first went to the Cala maah.”

  “How?”

  “There were more damahne then, and they traced along my fibers,” he said softly.

  Brohmin fell silent, and Salindra touched Jakob's arm. “Let him rest. He might not believe it, but he still needs it.”

  Jakob looked at Brohmin for another moment, and the man took a few deep breaths, before letting them out slowly.

  He stood, leaving Brohmin with Salindra leaning over him, still ministering to him. The energy swirled off of her, reaching toward Brohmin before pulling back. Whatever had happened between them before, Jakob knew that Salindra would keep Brohmin safe and see him back to health.

  As he left them, moving closer to Anda, he realized that was for the best. They couldn't rescue the goddess Alyta without Brohmin’s help. If they lost Brohmin, he feared they would lose the goddess as well.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Jakob didn't know how late it was, but from the occasional hoot of the owl, the occasional sound of insects fluttering, even the stirring of animals, he guessed that it must be near morning.

  When he had managed to sleep, he'd done so fitfully, his eyes occasionally drifting closed only to snap open. Part of him worried what would happen when he slept, whether or not he would have another vision, whether he would be subjected to dreams he should not have. Those fears kept him awake, preventing him from getting the sleep he needed.

  He knew they would need his strength, and they might need his sword, in the days to come. If he was not rested and didn’t recover, he didn't know whether he would be of any use to them with what they might face.

  Occasionally, he would hear Anda stir, but otherwise, she slept quietly, barely breathing. He had to focus to even notice that she breathed at times. Even Salindra, lying next to Brohmin, finally fell asleep. Other than the few words Brohmin had spoken earlier, he’d been sleeping solidly.

  Only Jakob remained awake.

  After a while, he stood, making his way into the forest, staring into the darkness. They hadn't talked about it, but what would they do if the Deshmahne were to return? He didn't like to think of it, but it was possible that they would find them again. Jakob had no idea how they had found them so easily the last time, as if the Deshmahne were somehow attuned to them, knowing exactly where to come for them. But how was that possible?

  The trees were dark blurs at night, and shadows seemed to shift, though the trees didn’t move. The ahmaean energy surrounded the trees, and he studied the nearest one a moment, wondering again why he saw it. Could he reach for that energy again?

  He had done so when they’d faced the Deshmahne. Could he use it now?

  Focusing on the ahmaean, he tried pulling on it, but failed.

  As he did, he thought he saw a flash of movement.

  Deshmahne? Or something else?

  Jakob reached for his sword, unsheathing it.

  In the darkness, he could make out the ahmaean swirling around the blade, but it didn’t have the same bright intensity that had before. He’d failed pulling on the tree’s energy, but could he use that of the sword?

  Unlike the tree, when he pulled on the ahmaean coming from the sword, it filled him.

  Jakob tried not to think about what it meant that he could do this.

  Was that how the Magi used their magic? It was a question he could easily ask Salindra, but he hadn’t. He didn’t want to anger her, and she could be touchy about such things.

  He watched again, looking for that flash of movement?

  He turned, thinking he heard something, but there was nothing.

  Was it only his imagination?

  Jakob moved deeper into the forest. As he did this time, he was clearly aware of movement. He stopped, focused on where he had seen it.

  There was a strange itch at the back of his mind.

  It was a familiar sensation that reminded him of what he’d felt while they had traveled north from Chrysia, the same as he’d had while traveling. He’d felt the strange itch and had started to believe he was going ma
d, thinking that he was slowly becoming like his brother. Much like then, he convinced himself it was imagined.

  And yet… He had felt it another time as well. When he had been on the other side of the Valley, when they were making their way out of the daneamiin settlement. Anda claimed the nemerahl weren’t found here, but what if one was?

  There came a soft chuckling within his mind.

  Jakob froze.

  He’d heard the same chuckling before. Was this time real, or was it imagined?

  Again a flash of movement, and then he saw a faint reflection of eyes.

  Jakob was certain they were real. A nemerahl, like he’d seen in his vision.

  He stepped toward it. His sword remained at the ready, prepared to strike were it necessary, but hesitated. If this was a nemerahl, they weren't aggressive. At least he didn't think they were.

  He took a step forward, and could practically feel the presence near him. As he did, he became aware of movement behind him.

  Jakob spun.

  Anda stood there, glowing softly with ahmaean flowing around her.

  She smiled when she saw him, her but her eyes drifted to his sword. “That is not necessary.”

  “I saw something moving here,” he said, turning back toward the trees, but the eyes—and the creature—were gone.

  “But your sword is not necessary.”

  “It is if we’re attacked.”

  “The nemerahl won't attack you, Jakob Nialsen.”

  He turned to her. “You knew?”

  “I didn’t think they would cross the Great Valley, but they are powerful creatures.”

  “I could barely see it.”

  She smiled. “They are difficult creatures to see. They will make themselves visible only when they want to. As I said, powerful.”

  “I saw one in my vision.”

  Anda nodded toward the space in the trees where he’d seen the creature. “They once were more numerous. Over time, their numbers have faded.”

  “Just like the gods.”

  “They are connected. The damahne and the nemerahl. They have long shared a unique connection. In that way, it is much like my people and the forest. We have shared a connection with the trees.”

  A part of Jakob wondered what connection man had to the world. If the damahne had a connection to the nemerahl, and daneamiin had a connection to the trees, what connection did man have?

  “Can you help me find it?” Jakob asked.

  “It is not for me to help you find. If the nemerahl chooses to be seen, you will see him. I don't know the mind of the nemerahl. They are ancient creatures, and proud. They are considered wise, guardians of a sort. It is possible that the nemerahl leads us to Alyta.”

  “Possible? What would be the other possibility?”

  Anda studied him a moment. The ahmaean around her swirled before she smiled. “Why are you up?”

  Jakob sighed, scanning the forest for evidence of the nemerahl, but none came. It was as if the creature had vanished, disappearing completely.

  “I am… I don't know. I close my eyes, and I think I drift off. But then I awaken again. My mind thinks about the Deshmahne, about the groeliin, and about Alyta. I know we need to rescue her, but I worry about the others as well. Those creatures are terrifying.” Those weren’t the only reasons he couldn’t sleep, but Anda wouldn’t have answers about what was happening to him either. For that, they needed to find Alyta.

  “They are horrible creatures. They once moved into the east, but the trees prevented them from moving too far. The groeliin weren't as strong then. I suspect they have grown, and their knowledge has grown.”

  “Why?”

  “There is no why with the groeliin. They seek destruction.” She took his hand, and he felt relaxation flow through him. He wondered if it was her simple touch again, or if it was the effect she had upon him, using her ahmaean to flow over him. Either way, he appreciated what she did.

  “The Deshmahne seek destruction,” Jakob said. “Between them and the groeliin, it doesn't seem as if there's going to be peace.”

  She squeezed his hand. “Did you not say you were called the Uniter of Men by the Cala maah?”

  Jakob sighed. “They called me that. Brohmin wonders if I’m the nemah, but I don't know what that means. What am I asked to do?”

  Anda led him back toward the clearing where they had made their camp. “Only you can know what you must do. Only you know what the fibers hold for you in the future. If it involves bringing peace, then you will do so.”

  “We need to rescue the goddess. That has to be first, doesn't it?”

  Anda nodded. “I think that must be first. If we lose her, much power will be lost from the world, and it will be dispersed.”

  “Or stolen,” Jakob said. He thought about what happened to Salindra, the branding that had attempted to steal her ahmaean. The Deshmahne had said they stole from many Magi, even commented about stealing from others beyond the Magi. If they were able to steal ahmaean from the Magi, what would prevent them from stealing from the goddess?

  A troubled expression flitted across Anda’s face. “That is even more reason for us to rescue her if we can.”

  She settled next to Jakob on the ground. Wave upon wave of relaxation washed through him. As it did, he realized she intended him to sleep. He looked up, smiling, and saw her leaning over him, much like Salindra had over Brohmin.

  A question intruded, a mixture of conversations he'd had with Anda. “You said all of the beings who can use the ahmaean are descended from the gods.”

  Anda nodded. “Rest, Jakob Nialsen.”

  “What of the groeliin? They can use ahmaean, though it’s dark.”

  A troubled expression furrowed Anda's brow. “Rest, Jakob Nialsen.”

  He couldn't fight sleep this time. But as he let go, he wondered if he would have visions again or would he finally be able to sleep it soundly.

  Still, he worried. Why hadn’t she answered his question? Could the groeliin also be descended from the gods?

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  They reached the port of Chrysia within a few days. The ship had sailed quickly, cutting through the water faster than what Allay would have believed possible, though he rarely traveled by ship. He had been surprised to discover that Mendi was aboard, though he still wasn't certain what to make of things between them. There were several others, though all appeared to be men and women from Salvat. Among them, was a Teacher.

  That had surprised him most of all. And yet it made sense. Mendi had always been ever faithful to the Urmahne, and he was now realizing the deposed rulers of Salvat had been as well, as evidenced by their interest in stopping the Deshmahne. Thinking it through, of course they would have such an authority of the Magi accompany them.

  Mendi stood next to him, watching as they made their way into the harbor. Since departing Gomald, she had been reserved with him, as if she hadn't known what to say. Allay wasn't certain that he knew what to say either. He needed answers. Now that they neared Chrysia, he had to clear the air between them.

  “Who were your family?” Allay asked.

  “In Salvat, prior to the war, we were nothing,” she said. “When the war ended, much of the ruling family had been lost. It left only a few with the ancient bloodline remaining.”

  “Your family shared that bloodline.”

  She nodded. “I don't understand what happened to Gomald while we were gone,” she said. “The rebellion has been fed by merchants who sought a different relationship with the throne. Trade with Salvat once had been pleasant,” she said. “After your family attacked and claimed it, that changed.”

  Allay breathed out, wishing he understood what had happened. “What does your family think I can do?”

  “The Magi asked you to serve. Salvat respects them. They've kept the Teachers as advisors, and they have continued to serve my family, doing so as discreetly as possible.”

  The Teachers were descendants of the Magi, not powered like the Magi,
but scholars. He thought of those he'd met in Saeline, Locken's Teachers. They had been angry with him. Had they known more about the rebellion than they let on?

  “We remain faithful to the gods, Allay. When the Deshmahne came, my father knew he had to act. We had seen what happened in the south.”

  “You knew this when we were in Vasha?” Why wouldn’t she have told him before now?

  “Not then. Not until we returned.”

  “Why Chrysia?” Allay asked.

  “Because that's where we'll find King Locken. My father heard the report that he's come here, seeking allies. He wants nothing of this war your father seeks.”

  Allay still wasn’t certain he would be able to influence anything, but he would try. He was determined to do what he could, recognizing that this plan of his father's made no sense. There was no purpose to the war, no reason to fight with Thealon. Certainly not when so much more was at stake.

  “I've heard that Comity died,” Mendi said after a period of silence.

  He looked over at her. “How did you hear that?”

  She nodded toward the Teacher standing on the opposite railing. “They have some way of communicating. He tried to do… something. I'm not exactly sure what it was. There was an explosion, and he and his brother were lost.”

  “Where?”

  “Near the Tower.”

  They were gone. A delegate who had not been Deshmahne when he had come to Vasha but had left converted. How many others had converted during that time? How many remained?

  Had even Stohn converted? Was that how the Deshmahne intended to attack the north?

  Allay hadn’t thought of him since leaving Vasha. There would be little he could do to work with the man as far away as he was. It was more likely that Allay would work with Dougray and Danvayn.

  How much of this had the Magi anticipated? Did they expect him to stop this war?

  If he couldn’t, what would happen?

  Answers didn’t come to him as they sailed into the port.