The elf rose from the floor. It didn’t stand, using arms and legs to push itself upright, it needed no such mundane instruments. It merely floated upwards, until it was standing, naked, but magisterial. Its violet hair moving in an invisible breeze.
It’s skin was utterly black, a void. Looking at it, you saw stars burning. Heden recognized constellations. They moved and shifted as the figure moved, as Heden’s head moved. It was like looking through a window.
The elf turned its black-on-black eyes to Heden.
“That is the man that bound you!” Heden shouted, as the revenant attacked Aimsley. The polder danced back but the ghoul was faster and stronger. It grasped the polder by the throat.
The celestial’s eyes scanned the room. Its mouth opened and the sound of wet glass being rubbed by a finger came out.
The revenant went rigid. Its eyes swollen and filled with black blood. Ash-grey bone ripped through tattered skin. It dropped Aimlsey, who quickly bound backward out of reach.
The star elf drew his hand calmly into a fist, and the night dust was pulled from the count. His body was restored, flesh and bone knitted back together. When the star elf released his grip, the body fell to the floor in a heap, dead.
More glass-sounds from the star elf.
“What’s he saying?” Aimsley said, rubbing at his throat.
“He said the count does not deserve so neat a death,” Heden translated.
“Neat!?” Aimsley said, unbelieving.
The celestial reached out a hand, and Aimsley watched as the priest was lifted from the ground by an unseen force.
Twin dirks appeared in the thief’s hands and he lunged at the astral celestial.
“Don’t!” Heden gasped to the thief. The polder skidded across the floor, his motion stopped, as his head darted back and forth between the nine foot tall celestial, and the man suspended and strangling before him.
The polder watched as Heden’s voice made a noise that sounded like singing without words, just pure tones modulated by the shifting shape of his jaw and mouth.
The celestial frowned. Opened his hand. Heden gasped for breath normally again, but was still suspended three feet in the air.
Heden said, turning and stretching his neck, unable to move his arms.
The celestial’s eyes went wide. He released Heden. The priest stumbled as he hit the floor, quickly righting himself.
“Heden what the fuck is going on?” Garth asked.
The elf turned, a fluid motion, as he regarded Garth, Domnal, and the polder. His gaze lingered on Aimsley.
Heden glanced at Aimsley. "That's probably true," he said in tevas-gol. Heden wasn’t sure where Polder came from and was willing to take the demi-god’s word for it.
the celestial continued in his own language.
“Heden,” Dom said from the doorway, his voice shaking, “can we please get the fuck out of here?”
"What's he saying?" Aimsley asked.
"He's saying he could kill everyone in this city," Heden answered.
"Could he?"
"Maybe," Heden said to Aimsley. The polder, Dom, and Garth all watched Heden negotiate with the Celestial.
“We would be easy,” Heden indicated himself and the others. “But there are powers in the city who would stop you. Our knights and wizards, our saints. And there is a dwarf in the city,” Heden saved the best for last.
"This isn't getting us anywhere," Heden said, allowing himself to seem impatient. "We knew what you could do once freed, and we did it anyway. That should count for something."
The elf stared at him with silver eyes.
“You could start by speaking our language,” Heden said. “I know it’s easy for you.”
"Why did you release me and invite my wrath?" the elf asked, this time in heavily accented tevas-gol.
“Cyrvis’ thorny prick,” Garth hissed at the sound of the Celestial’s voice.
"Because it was the right thing to do," Heden said. This, in the end, was his only armor against the astral celestial. Aimsley held his breath.
"Morality," the dark elf sneered. "A terran thing."
"It’s a good thing. It's the reason you're still alive."
"You bound me out of fear, and released me out of fear, thou insect."
“I do fear you,” Heden admitted. “I released you anyway. Knowing it was very likely you would kill the first Man you saw.”
The elf seethed.
“I have not taken your life yet,” he pointed out.
“I know,” Heden said. “I’ll be honest with you, I didn’t really have a plan after this part, I just knew it was wrong to leave you like that.”
Aimlsey made a squeaking noise in his throat. It sounded like: “eep.”
One corner of the astral celestial’s mouth curled in a sneer.
"I require satisfaction," it said, and looked at the body of the count.
The count’s body heaved, his eyes flew open, and he gasped in a breath, alive again.
"Black gods," Aimsley said, taking a step back. He was tensed, ready for battle. He looked at Heden, judging how worried he should be by the priest’s demeanor.
"They're made of godstuff," Heden muttered to the thief. "What they think becomes real." He could hear Aimsley breathing heavily now.
The celestial looked at its hands as though seeing them for the first time.
“Val,” the elf swore, looking at his hands in marvel. “It is accomplished. The great endeavor.”
This was not the first time Heden had heard that term.
“What?” he asked. “What is accomplished?”
The celestial ignored him, marveled at the resurrected count. “I willed it, and it happened.”
“Gods please,” the count said. “Please let me die. Not again, gods, not again.”
“What was the great endeavor?” Heden pressed, fear replaced by a burning need to know.
“Heden,” Aimsley warned.
Garth looked at Aimsley. “We need to get the fuck out of here,” he said. Behind them, Domnal nodded furiously.
“I bestride the boundary between life and death,” the elf looked down at his body in awe.
His gaze snapped back to the count, and he sneered. The count’s body went rigid again. He howled.
His body was being turned inside out again. The effect of the night dust, but in an instant.
When the screams ended, a ghoul stood before them again.
“Hhhuuurr,” the body of the count moaned. It seemed different from the deathless Heden had encountered before. There was something in there. Some spark of spirit that radiated despair.
“I command the forces of the undying,” the celestial said, and gestured again at the undead count.
The count’s body twisted and writhed in pain, it screamed and Heden was certain something of the count was still in there. This was no normal deathless. Heden couldn’t stand by and watch.
“I will rack you back and forth from life to death,” the elf said, “until your mind is broken. Then I shall rebuild you and begin again.”
"No," Heden said, and drew Solaris.
I need you
, Heden thought.
A betrayer, the voice of the sword echoed in Heden's head. For countless cycles I have yearned for such a one. Leave him to me.
A light glowed from the blade, sunlight. Warm, reviving. But like a detonation, the count’s body exploded into dust, destroyed by Solaris
The celestial spun on Heden.
“You dare!” it said, and a cloud of inky darkness oozed from its skin like smoking, searching tendrils. “You doom is inevitable! Always you turn back to sin! Only thus could you have bound me!”
Solaris thrust itself into the air. A beam of pure white light struck the dark elf.
Instantly the star elf leapt back, placed a hand over his eyes. The dark cloud vanished.
the dark elf cried out.
"I serve only the light," the sword said, its voice heard not by ears, but inside their heads. "I care not for blood, only will. And the will of the Astrals was always twisted to darkness.”
"Heden!" Aimsley gasped, holding his head in his hands, trying to shut the voice out.
The sword aimed itself at the elf. Heden was not entirely happy with this, but unsure of his options.
“Long have you evaded punishment for Kalas Mithral,” the sword said. “Justice must be satisfied!”
The celestial fell back in fear.
Fate spared you, but I shall not! came the booming reply in their minds.
A searing light shot from the sword and smoke rose from the dark elf’s skin as his form was boiled by molten sunlight.
The elf screamed as smoke burned everyone’s lungs.
“Stop!” Heden said, and dropped the sword.
The light stopped. The voice was silenced. The sword lay on the ground inert.
“You can’t act on your own,” Heden said to the blade as it lay on the ground. He knew it could hear him. “Someone has to give their consent, that’s the pact, that’s the check against your power and I do not consent!”
The dark elf huddled on the floor like a wounded animal, curled into a fetal position, whimpered.
Heden closed the distance between them, kneeled. Placed a hand on the still smoking flesh, and said a prayer.
The star elf’s skin healed, renewed. The whimpering subsided. Heden took a step back, picked up the sword gingerly. Put it back in his scabbard. Solaris raised no objection.
The star elf stood, this time using his arms and legs, like a mortal creature.
“Leave it to him” Aimsley said, shaking his head in disbelief.
“You know not the power contained in that weapon,” the elf said, still afraid.
“That’s true,” Heden said, letting his hand rest lightly on the pommel. “But you do and right now that’s all that matters.”
“It is the Thousand Rays of Morning,” the celestial explained. “A legendary solar who stayed behind to continue his personal war against darkness.”
A Solar Celestial, Heden thought, his hand gripping the sword tighter. Still on this plane after his brothers joined their god in Arcadia.
What I was before is of no consequence, the voice spoke in Heden’s mind. Now I am Solaris and I will not permit this one to cause more harm.
“He’s not going to cause more harm,” Heden said. “He knows that path leads only to pain for all. And it’s time to stop the cycle of death.”
The elf straightened himself. His gaze shifted from Heden’s sword, to Heden. It ignored everyone else in the room.
"I am taught wisdom by a mortal," the elf said, chastised.
“We’ve all learned something today.” Heden said. “It’s not too late to do the right thing.”
“Verily. I see now why the Last Star counted you as a friend. In my anger I lashed out at those who had not wronged me, indeed those who liberated me from my bondage.”
“It was a mistake,” Heden said. “We all make them. Let’s not make it worse.”
The star elf bowed.
“Who bound you?” Heden asked. “Originally. How did you come to be here?”
“A servant of Ket,” the elf said. “I know not his name, he wore a skullcap made of adamantine and served a terran dressed all in metal.”
A servant of Ket, Heden wondered. Then an image of a man he knew who wore a silver skullcap flashed in his mind.
“Novacula,” Garth said. “Duke Baede’s wizard. He delivered the elf to us.”
The elf looked around the room, at no one. “I know not. You are ephemeral. I was bound, brought somewhere else, and then here.”
“You’ve answered my question,” Heden said, trying not to think of what the answer implied. “You’re free to go. Let us part in weal and not woe.”
The celestial nodded.
"I have already forgotten my rage for vengeance. I no longer wish to destroy you all."
"Good," Aimsley said.
"I have forgotten my fear," Heden said. "And consider myself fortunate to have met you." He knew this to be the proper thing to say.
"The Ray of Morning," the elf said, nodding to Heden's sword, "was wise and I did not heed him. Only one of equal wisdom could wield his power." The elf stuck out his hand.
"I am fortunate to have met such a one."
Heden looked at the extended hand, much larger than his. Inky black and covered with twinkling stars and swirling galaxies.
"This is the custom, yes?" The elf asked. "I cannot say how much time has passed since last I treated with the Terrans, we do not reckon such things," he said.
Heden extended his hand, reaching up to account for the difference in their height.
"This is the custom," he said, and gripped the celestial's hand. It was thin and delicate, but strong.
"Farewell," the celestial said. "This world of yours likes me not."
Heden blinked, and the star elf was gone.
Heden and Aimsley were left alone in the room. Both were shaking now that the crisis was over. Heden wanted to throw up.
“’The Star Emerging?’” Aimsley said.
“What?” Heden asked, still recovering.
“You know a fucking star elf? You’ve been to the World Below?”
“No,” Heden said, shaking his head. “I mean, yes I know a…I knew a star elf.” Heden took a deep breath. “He was an ambassador. He asked Richard for help against the Army of Night. But he’s dead now. I’ve never been to their realm.”
“You could fucking tell me this shit before we…,” he waved his hands around. “I almost shit myself. And you making bell noises and shit.”
Heden ignored Aimsley. Looked for Garth.
“Where’s Garth?” he asked.
“Domnal,” Aimsley said, noticing the watchman was also gone.
They were alone in the room.
“Shit,” Heden said, and ran for the doorway. Aimsley followed.
Chapter Seventy-six
“You’re here early,” Willem said.
Tomas shrugged. “Where else am I going to go?” The younger man fitted his helmet on.
Willem smiled. “Well you’re young yet,” he said. “You get you a missus, you’ll find better things to do with your time than stand watch.” Willem didn’t bother with a helmet, Tomas noticed.
“Dannec don’t seem too eager to stay home with his missus.” Tom said.
“Wol,” Willem began, all sage-like, “that’s because he’s old. But you got many years between.”
The two men stood before the stairs to the fourth level.
“Been three days since I seen the sun,” Tomas said.
“No excuse for that,” Willem said. “Plenty of time off. You live and work down here, you don’t go out, to the taverns, you go funny in the head. Need some sunlight. Fresh air.”
“Which tavern you lot go to?” Tom asked.
“Black Frog,” Willem said. “Lotta the castellan’s men go there.”
“And where is that?” Tom asked.
Before Willem could a
nswer, they heard a growing patter. A strange sound down here.
Skidding around the corner came a young lady in a torn dress. She stopped when she saw the two guards
Willem and Tomas looked at each other, each confirming that what they saw was real, then looked back at the girl at the far end of the corridor. They each put their hands on the hilts of their weapons.
“Shit.” Vanora said.
Chapter Seventy-seven
“Shit,” Heden said.
Vanora was not in the room where Heden had left her.
In her place was Domnal’s corpse.
“He took the girl and left the watchman,” Aimsley said.
“Garth you fuck,” Heden said, standing up. His prayers hadn’t worked. Was it too late? Did Apostate kill a man in such a way as to prevent resurrection? It was possible, given the sword’s purpose.
What was the point having Cavall’s power if he couldn’t use it to save the people he loved?
“Can we find him, before he gets out of here?” Aimsley asked.
“I doubt it,” Heden said, exhausted. Unwilling to try. He stared at Dom’s corpse. “He planned all this. Planned his escape. Ah, Dom,” he said.
The heavy watchman’s leather breastplate has been neatly punctured. Run through. His eyes stared, unseeing, pupils fully dilated. Heden hated to see that. Hated to see lifeless eyes.
Aimsley looked at the corpse again. “Quick death,” he said. “Clean. Not much pain. Garth was doing you a favor.”
Heden shot a look at the little man, but the polder didn’t appear to notice. It was purely a neutral observation on the thief’s part.
“Let’s get out of here,” Aimsley said. “Garth didn’t kill the girl, let’s find her.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” a rough voice said.
The castellan.
He leaned against the doorway, gestured to someone in the hall beyond.
Two young watchmen in uniform dragged Vanora in and tossed her into the middle of the room. She fell to her knees and immediately sprang back up, seething.
The watchmen looked to their master. He jerked his head toward the hallway, dismissing them.
“Someone want to explain to me what the fuck is going on?” he asked.
Heden ignored him. Put his hands on Vanora’s shoulders. “Are you alright?”
Thief: A Fantasy Hardboiled (Ratcatchers Book 2) Page 33