Feeling the muscles in her neck tense, Laedron took her hand. “Val?”
She opened her eyes. “Lae…? My head.” Although her voice was raspy and speaking clearly caused her pain, Laedron’s heart soared with hope. Sitting up, she caressed the bump on her forehead.
Tavin shrugged. “This is all very touching, but we really should—”
Marac silenced him with a harsh glare. “This is the stuff that real lives are made of, Uxidin. Not books, not artifacts, and certainly not hunting villains hiding in the deep. The unending nature of your life has blinded you to the importance of things dear to us mortal sorts. I pity you.”
Brice elbowed him. “Never knew you were a romantic, Marac. Never figured you for the type.”
“Things grow on you, Thimble.”
Laedron kissed Valyrie. “What might you say about some peace and relaxation when we get out of this mess?”
“With you?”
His heart sank, fearful of what she might say next. “If you’d have me.”
“Does this mean you’re over yourself?”
Over myself? Was I the one who…? Enough. If I’ve learned anything about women, the most important observation is not to argue unnecessarily. “Yes.”
“Then, I would say that I wouldn’t have it any other way.” She smiled. “Now that that’s settled, how about getting on with our task?”
“Not before I help that head of yours.” He waved the scepter and chanted. The bruise faded. He lost himself in her eyes.
She shook his shoulder. “Lae? Should we go about finding this Kareth fellow and sending him to Syril?”
“Kareth… oh, yes.” Turning when he heard coughing, Laedron examined Tavin, wondering why he was hunched over. “Are you well?”
“I’ll be fine. A little weakness from the climb, I should think. Nothing to concern yourselves with.” Tavin gestured at the path between the metal piles. “Shall we?”
Laedron helped Valyrie to her feet, then followed Tavin and his friends behind the stand holding the half-built Trapper and into the maze of metal piles. Upon closer inspection of the scrap metal, Laedron wondered what it was and why it had been left discarded in such a way. “Have you ever seen anything like this before?”
“Could be anything,” Tavin replied without so much as a glance at it. “We may never know.”
“I’d like to know. It could be important.” Laedron snatched a piece from one of the lots. Eying it, he thought he’d seen such a metal before, but the name escaped him. “Take a look at this.”
Marac, Brice, and Valyrie crowded around the shiny chunk in Laedron’s palm.
Brice blurted, “Can it be?”
“What? You’ve seen this before?”
“We all have.”
Laedron shrugged. “I thought I had, but I can’t place it.”
“Looks like platinum.”
Marac’s eyes widened, and he grabbed a piece to examine it. “It can’t be. Get one of the coins out, Lae.”
Fishing through his pockets, Laedron located one of the platinum pieces that Jurgen had given them in Azura, then held the coin and the raw hunk against one another for comparison.
“Creator! He may be right.” Laedron dropped his hands to his sides when he stared into the expanses of the chamber and realized they were surrounded by piles—tons upon tons—of the most precious metal in Bloodmyr, all of it heaped like refuse. “More wealth than all the nations in the world. Right here, beneath an old temple in the middle of a forest, lies the richest and most bountiful veins of platinum ever discovered.”
“Should we take some?” Brice asked, licking his lips, his fingers waggling with apparent avarice.
Laedron gazed at Tavin.
Tavin said, “If you’re looking to me for permission, it is not mine to give. These treasures were dug up by Kareth and his creations.”
“Then, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.” Brice picked up two handfuls at a time and dropped chunk after chunk into his pack.
“Not too much, Thimble.” Marac grabbed his wrist and took a piece of platinum from his hand. “You wouldn’t want to weigh yourself down. We may need you for the fight to come, and with a ton of that on your back, you’ll be of little use.”
Picking up about a pound of the stuff, Laedron glanced at Valyrie. A little wealth would help us when we return home. And a bit for the mages to rebuild the academy we so desperately need. “Take some for your father, Marac, and keep some for yourself. The rest we leave for Tavin’s people to help them rebuild what has long since been lost.”
“If I don’t make it out of this place with you, I appreciate your kindness, and I hope they put these resources to good use.” Tavin seemed to be sure that he wouldn’t emerge from the caverns alive.
“Certainly. Think nothing of it.” What else can I say? If he had something to tell me, he’s not the kind to hide it.
Tavin led them farther down the path, which was also lit by crystals similar to those Laedron had seen in the Uxidin shelter. The hall terminated at a stone desk surrounded by matching bookcases, and Laedron stopped when he was close enough to hear the scratching of a quill against parchment.
A man’s voice, a deep bellow, which Laedron thought could have come from Syril himself, called out, “Why do you disturb me? I told you not to worry me unless you found more. Have you found more?”
With a sound Laedron likened to the scattering of paper and the shuffling of feet, a man came around the bookcase that had previously obscured him from view. Laedron’s jaw dropped. Kareth, he thought, first noticing the human face and upper body, then the crystal pieces imbedded in the man’s torso, arms, and legs. The man stopped when he saw Laedron and his group, then bolted for a nearby exit, his tattered clothes and long brown hair fluttering behind him.
“Kareth!” Tavin shouted, thrusting his wand toward the man and casting a spell.
The man disappeared through the tunnel just before the bolt of lightning crashed into the wall.
Tavin took off after him.
Laedron, pursuing Tavin into the passage, glanced at the desk and shelves. An amulet forged from crystal? Drawings? Plans of some kind? What has become of this man, having been secluded for so long?
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Showdown
Racing down the corridor, Laedron couldn’t cast the fear from his heart, for the mere sight of Kareth instilled terror in the pit of his stomach. What lengths of madness has a man reached when he willingly deforms himself? Purposefully inserts shards of crystal into his own flesh? His horror notwithstanding, Laedron kept within a few feet from Tavin the whole way.
Tavin first, then Laedron and the others, burst into another chamber like a torrent of hellfire, out of breath and scanning the room for any signs of Kareth. Laedron was taken aback by the sight of the place. Trappers stood at intervals along the walls of the ringed room, like knights on guard by a king’s throne. Their bodies shone bright and red, and their glow overpowered the luminous crystals placed around the chamber to provide ambient light. Upon a stone platform sat a huge crystal chair, which looked like a vicar’s cathedra. Laedron could make out the lower half of Kareth’s body crouched behind the seat.
Tavin yelled, “Nowhere to run now, fiend! Come out and face us.”
Kareth stood, walked in front of the throne, then sat upon it, holding his staff, which had a shaft of what looked like pure emerald. “Am I the one who should be concerned?” He gestured at the Trappers at either side of him. “You would come into my house and, surrounded by my guardians, make threats? I thought you would have better sense than that, my dear Tavingras. It has been quite a while since we last met, but I thought better of you than that.”
“It would seem that you haven’t forgotten much since you’ve been down here in your little hole.” Tavin approached the throne, and the Trappers moved to intercept him. “Perhaps you remember your crimes? Why we might be here to see you?”
> Laedron gestured for his companions to stay back, then he followed Tavin toward the throne.
“Halt,” Kareth said to the Trappers. When they didn’t obey, Kareth jerked his head back with contempt, as if he’d realized something, then donned an amulet around his neck. “I said, halt!”
The Trappers stopped in their tracks, and the red glow dimmed. The amulet. He uses it to control them?
Smiling, Tavin asked, “Struck a nerve, did I?”
“You were there, Tavingras,” Kareth said, his anger apparent. “You know why I had to do what I did.”
“Had to? No, I think not.” Tavingras gave Kareth a glare that dripped with condescension. “I can think of nothing that could justify your murder of the Elder Priest. What would you have me believe? That she attacked you when she appointed Harridan to succeed her? You killed the Far’rah out of envy and jealousy.”
“I loved her, Tavingras, and she betrayed that love.” Kareth’s voice echoed with an ache that only an immortal could hold, a pain that had tortured its victim for years, centuries, as if it had been inflicted anew each day.
The revelation must have been a shock to Tavin because he stood speechless, his mouth gaping.
Finally, Kareth said, “You couldn’t understand, for you never knew the truth. Your master, the one you now call Far’rah, stole my love’s heart and my future. That is what you and your people are good for, Tavingras. Perfect little followers to liars and thieves.”
Tavin shook his head. “You lie.”
Kareth leaned forward in his seat. “In the middle of his own kingdom, a king tells the truth, for who would oppose him? What need would be sated by speaking falsehoods?”
“You mean to trick me. You lie because you are afraid—”
“Afraid?” Kareth let out an unnerving, sinister cackle that resounded from every corner of the cave. “What do I have to fear from one of Harridan’s toadies and a handful of children? Come now, Tavingras. I thought you remembered me better than that. Or do you mean to be disrespectful for disrespect’s sake?”
“If you’re not lying, then what do you hope to accomplish here? Why do you build these crystal abominations and loose them upon the forest? She’s dead, Kareth. You’ve taken your revenge upon her.”
“To punish you and your kind, nothing more. To revisit the suffering you’ve caused me until none of you draw breath. For what reason did you think?”
“To build your own empire from our bones?”
“Ha! You would like to think that, wouldn’t you? Had we spent more time together, you might have had an opportunity to truly know me, Tavingras.”
“I know you well, murderer, but you seem to have grown comfortable in your cave.” Tavin raised his wand at Kareth. “I’ve come quite a long way since we last met, and before you die, I want to impress that upon you.”
“I think you’ll find that we’ve both learned a few new tricks.” Standing, Kareth took his staff in both hands. “Is it to be only you and I, or will these others join our little game?”
Tavin looked over his shoulder. “Keep back. Whatever happens, do not interfere until one of us is dead.”
Insanity Laedron thought. “What good is that? We’ve come to kill the man. Why give up the advantage?”
“If I fall, you’ll have plenty of work ahead of you. Stay out of it.” Tavin turned back at Kareth. “I’ve long waited for this day.”
“Then, I shall make it interesting.” Kareth bowed, then shouted a spell and waved the staff at Tavin.
Tavin ducked, narrowly avoiding a beam of light as it passed overhead. With a flick of his wrist, Tavin returned a blast of deafening thunder. Although Kareth was clearly the focal point of the spell, several of the Trappers standing nearby exploded or collapsed in the shockwave.
Cracks formed in the walls of the cave. Kareth peered down and examined his body, and even from that distance, Laedron noticed fractures in some of the crystals imbedded in the man. The unnatural glow was fading from them. Seemingly undeterred, Kareth thrust his staff forward again and unleashed a hail of ice shards at Tavin.
Tavin apparently recognized the spell because, as soon as Kareth had cast, he summoned a shield of fire. The ice shards passed through, turned to water, and landed harmlessly. Both of the Uxidin released their spells, then walked the perimeter of the platform like scrappers sizing up one another.
“It would seem that I underestimated you, Tavingras.” Kareth gestured at one of the broken crystals in his chest. “How many of my creations did you fight before you learned how to defeat them?”
“Not many,” Tavin said with a full dose of vitriol.
“Ah, then perhaps I asked the wrong question. Maybe it would be more fitting if I asked how many of your poor, pathetic people had to die before you stopped the first one?”
With a shriek, Tavin shot a bolt of lightning from his wand. The bolt struck Kareth in the shoulder. Tavin fired another, and Kareth took cover behind his throne. Enveloped in rage, Tavin hurled bolt after bolt into the crystal chair, knocking chunks off of it with each casting. “Come out, damn you! Quit hiding and—”
Kareth poked the end of his staff between the legs of the throne. Flames erupted from the tip and engulfed Tavin’s legs. Tavin screamed in anguish, then fell to the ground when Kareth ended the spell.
Laedron’s heart sank. He took a step forward, then stopped when Tavin held up a hand.
“No. You mustn’t interfere. It’s not over yet.”
“Not over?” Kareth walked out from behind the chair. “You’re finished, Tavingras. You’re no more a threat to me than these children.”
“Finished? Not yet. So long as there’s life in my body, I will oppose you for all that you’ve done.”
“Then, I shall deprive you of that life, that wasted, pitiful, subservient life. I should let you suffer as I have suffered, but I will be merciful to you. More merciful than you and your kind ever were to me.” Kareth approached, his staff outstretched. “In the end, the Zyvdredi were right. The essence of the weak is best used to serve the strong. Now, your essence will serve me.”
“So, you have joined them? Thrown everything you were away?” Tavin asked through clenched teeth.
“Joined? I swear fealty to no Nyrethine house.” Kareth crouched next to Tavin. “I merely understand their philosophy, Tavingras. Quiet, now. The pain you’re in must be excruciating.”
After hearing the first words of the incantation, Laedron knew what spell Kareth was conjuring.
Marac must have recognized it, too, because he whispered, “Lae, do something.”
Not until one of us is dead, Laedron repeated in his mind, watching the still-breathing Tavin. The swirls of dark violet appeared, and Laedron was torn between Marac’s words and the instructions Tavin had given. Did he mean for me to obey even if he lost?
“Lae, we must stop him,” Marac said. “Lae!”
Raising the scepter, Laedron stared at Tavin and realized that he drew breath no longer. The sorcerer’s staff’s purple glow faded. “Bastard.”
“I had almost forgotten you were here, young one,” Kareth said. “Would you prefer a quick death?”
Laedron gestured at the lifeless corpse at Kareth’s feet. “Unlike Tavingras, you know nothing of me. Does that not worry you?”
Brow furrowed, Kareth stood. “Worry me? Tell me, child, what did he offer you to come here? Grand adventure? A share of the spoils? Or did he touch upon your mortal sentiments of right and wrong? If that was the case, then know that I was the one wronged. It is I who suffered by their hands like some plaything.”
“Does any of this matter? Whether I know the truth or not, you’ll try to kill us anyway. Why wait?”
“A quick one, then. Have it your way.”
His hand trembling, Laedron held out the rod, recalling the words to his dispelling ward. Kareth raised the staff high and chanted. When Kareth thrust the staff forward, it exploded in his hands in a flurry of flashing light.
Thrown to th
e ground, Laedron shook his head and blinked rapidly. A haze of smoke hung in the air. The sting of warm blood filled his eyes, and a pain like broken slivers of glass sliced into his skin with every movement. Where has he gone? Get it together, Sorcerer! Every moment that passes without action gives him another chance to attack. He tried to focus and find Kareth through the smoke, but he couldn’t. What in the hells happened? Searching his memory, he tried to think of something that might make sense of it all, and he finally realized what had caused the explosion. Harridan. He couldn’t, could he? Wouldn’t? Laedron recalled his words to Tavin: I thought you came here to help us, to which Tavin had replied, When the time comes, you’ll know why I couldn’t.
Working backward from that moment, Laedron imagined the meeting—the private talk that Tavin and Harridan had before they left—and he pieced together what had really gone on behind that closed door. A spell placed upon Tavin’s essence, then delivered to Kareth’s staff when that essence was absorbed. That must be the answer. A clever monster led into a trap and defeated by his own nature.
Laedron considered what Tavin must have felt coming there, the quick pace by which he’d led them to that place. All the way down, he had purposefully ran to meet his own death at Kareth’s hands, to be the last sacrifice intended, at last, to free his people of the madman’s tyranny. When the smoke cleared, Laedron rose to his feet and checked his friends. “Everyone all right?”
“Are you?” Valyrie approached. “You were the closest.”
“Yes, fine.” Laedron pulled the strip of linen from his hand and wiped his face. “The shards didn’t go deep.”
“We’re fine,” Marac said, then turned to a rock. “You can come out now.”
Brice peeked over the boulder, then moved to stand beside Marac.
Laedron turned toward the throne and took a few steps, but he stopped when he noticed Kareth’s leg twitch.
Kareth let out a bloodcurdling scream. His arm had been torn away at the shoulder from the blast. “How could you—”
The Immortals of Myrdwyer Page 16