Black Stone Heart (The Obsidian Path Book 1)

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Black Stone Heart (The Obsidian Path Book 1) Page 32

by Michael R. Fletcher


  I staggered, found my way to the huge leather chair, and collapsed into it.

  The way Henka and I met, the attack on the caravan. That had been no coincidence. She planned it, staged everything. She knew exactly where I was. She must have lost me briefly when I fled Tien and escaped back to the far north. I felt sure she’d picked up my trail quickly enough. When I eventually found her, she’d been ready. She’d been perfect, the woman of my dreams, the woman written so deep in my blood I could never forget her, though I remembered nothing else. Pale white skin, in contrast to my own. The sable silk of her hair. Those gorgeous obsidian eyes. She made herself that way for me. After thousands of years as my wife, Henka knew exactly what I liked.

  “She manipulated me,” I said.

  “You were always blind to her.”

  But why?

  She made no attempt to harm me, no attempt to hinder my quest to find myself. In fact, she’d assisted me in every possible way, looking out for me, protecting me. She suffered vicious wounds when Chalaam and his friends attacked us. She defended me. When the mage lashed out with fire, Henka sheltered me with her body. She’d been charred to the bone, burnt to nothing, utterly helpless. She did that for me.

  “Why didn’t she tell me?”

  Nhil did that sliding mistimed blink. “She remembers everything you do not. Unlike you, she knows what happened at the end.”

  It was an answer. It was no answer. I couldn’t even be sure it was true.

  The end. What had happened? Had she betrayed me? Was that what this was, did she manipulate me for one more great betrayal?

  But then why save me?

  Because she had something more final in mind, more crushing than death at the hands of a mage.

  “If she had nothing to hide,” said Nhil, “she would have told you. If she could be trusted, she would have told you. We can’t know her plans, but we do know she has lied, she has concealed the truth from you.” He sighed, shaking his head sadly. “Remember, she disappeared before the end. Why would she leave you?”

  I didn’t know. I couldn’t even be sure that Nhil wasn’t lying. I had no memory of the end.

  Emotions surged through me, a maelstrom of confusion. Henka was my everything and she was not what I thought. I trusted her utterly and she repaid me with lies.

  I loved her, nothing could change that. But could I trust her after learning the truth?

  Why hadn’t she told me?

  This betrayal hurt a thousand times more than Tien’s. More, even, than when I thought I’d lost Shalayn.

  How could I trust her to join me on my quest to find the rest of myself?

  Was she waiting to find a specific piece of me so she might destroy my chance of discovering my past?

  I’d grown increasingly sure the mages had not broken me. Now I saw it in a new light. What if Henka broke my heart? What if she destroyed my empire, scattered me about the world? Had she thought that would kill me? Had she been surprised when her spies announced my return?

  “I have to go back,” I told Nhil.

  “Is that wise? She is ancient and powerful. Don’t be fooled by her appearance.”

  I didn’t care. I loved her and nothing would change that. I had to see her, to talk with her. I had to know the truth.

  And if she planned betrayal?

  My heart hurt. My skull ached. I wanted to scream and do terrible damage to something, anything.

  If she betrayed me, I would end her. I would toss her into the ocean, damn her to an eternity in the darkest deeps. She would rot to nothing, flesh devoured, scoured away by the tides. Her skull would sink away, disappear into the ocean floor, buried in silt.

  I rose from the chair.

  “Henka, my love, I’m coming for you.”

  EPILOGUE

  This is only the beginning.

  I pray the memory of these thoughts—this knowledge—is in one of the first shards you find, if not the first. But our god, she doesn’t answer prayers. At least, not that kind.

  She dreams.

  She dreams in blood.

  She dreams in blood, and she waits.

  She waits for you.

  She waits for you to be whole.

  She waits for you to bring her back to this world.

  You must not become the man I am.

  I have done terrible things. I harvested entire worlds for our god. I tore the very fabric of creation, shattered the laws much as our heart was shattered. There were rules governing reality and I cracked them wide open. Nightmares spilled forth. I hunted gods and lords of hells and bound them to my purpose.

  You must be better.

  I pray you find this memory before you find the stone eyes, before you reach PalTaq. Before you find your sword, Kantlament. You’d be better off knowing nothing than everything.

  There is so much you don’t yet know, but if you continue along the Obsidian Path, this trail of cleverly laid crumbs drawing you south, you will find only sorrow. You must understand what I failed to learn: There is no end to sorrow.

  Death is no escape. Not for us.

  In finding what you seek, I promise you, you’ll lose that which matters most.

  There are gods and demons.

  There are heavens and hells.

  But there is no fate, there is no force of destiny.

  Only you can decide who you are.

  Your actions will define you.

 

 

 


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