“Sure, didn’t you get Brican’s kythe?” Flasch joked. “Meet around the comatose half-angel during third hour.”
“Damn good thing I was here early anyway, then,” Michael said.
Flasch winked at him, then his smile faded as he looked down at Danner’s body.
“He went angel today,” Flasch said. “During the fight, I mean, and Brican said Garnet specifically ordered him not to. Garnet was pissed.”
Marc shook his head. “Can you blame him, after what happened with that demon in the basement? After Trebor?”
Mention of their departed friend’s name brought an even more solemn pall over the trio. They all knew Danner still blamed himself for Trebor’s death. Worse… they all secretly agreed with him. Danner had lost himself in his angelic power and left his friend and their two platoons behind; too late, he came to his senses only a moment before Trebor was torn apart before Danner’s very eyes.
None of the others had seen the gruesome death at the time, but thanks to denarae kything, they had all witnessed the horrifying scene through the memories of Danner and the denarae who had been there. There was really no question that Danner’s lack of control had almost directly led to his best friend’s death, and the fact that none of them could argue against his guilt led them all to avoid the topic whenever Danner might overhear. Two months later, the scar over the wound of Trebor’s death was at least superficially healed over for all of them… except Danner.
“I think he’s addicted to the power,” Marc said softly. “We wondered about it before, but now I think we’ve moved past mere speculation if he can’t not change.”
“Danner’s always been a bit of a thrill-seeker,” Flasch objected. “He drives that buggy of his like he’s being chased by a thousand demons, and once he conquered his fear of heights, I caught him daring himself to fall further, faster before activating his cloak. It may not be the power itself, just the rush he gets using it.”
“That’s bad enough if he can’t stop himself from doing it,” Marc murmured, shaking his head.
“The look on his face when he was healing Garet,” Michael said softly, then shivered as a chill swept over his body. “Worse than the basement.”
Two weeks earlier, Danner and a handful of Shadow Company personnel – including Michael and Garnet – had gone to investigate a demon sighting near the outskirts of Nocka. Three lesser demons and a drolkul were hiding out and, in the course of the fight, Danner went completely berserk and tore the drolkul to pieces with his bare hands.
For a long moment, they were all silent.
Finally, Michael spoke up.
“Marc, you said we might have good cause to be worried about Danner’s dreams,” he prompted, then fell silent.
The Orange paladin nodded.
“I don’t think it’s too much of a stretch to assume that Danner could be reacting to the war on the immortal plane,” Marc said slowly. “It started about a week after our war ended, and according to ancient texts and even the firsthand testimony of Danner’s uncle, time passes much more quickly on the immortal plane than it does here. A single week here would be the equivalent of two weeks passing in Hell or Heaven. In that much time,” Marc shook his head, “who knows what could be going wrong?”
“At least we know Hell hasn’t won yet, though, right?” Flasch asked. “Birch told us if that happened, then life everywhere would cease. The fact that we’re still alive and talking about it is sort of a good sign. We just have to have faith that it will work out.”
“I think we need more than just faith.”
They all turned as Garnet and Brican approached, followed closely by Guilian.
“What is this today?” Michael grumbled. “Don’t you people ever announce yourselves, or is everyone determined to just break into the conversation unexpectedly?”
“What’s his problem?” Brican asked.
“Well, we’re still waiting for confirmation from the Green paladins,” Flasch said glibly, “but we’re all pretty sure it’s just because he’s Michael.”
Garnet was just lowering himself wearily to sit on a rock and paused, then shook his head and slumped down.
“I got it,” Marc said, then rapped Flasch on the back of his head.
“Thanks,” Garnet murmured with a tired smile as Flasch rubbed the back of his head and glared irritably at Marc.
They sat in silence for a moment. Garnet finally straightened up, and all eyes turned to him.
“Marc, when we get back to Nocka, I’d like you to get a group together and pore through the Prism’s archives,” Garnet said. “Take Danner with you to read any of the texts written in the immortal tongue.”
“Are we looking for that connection we talked about?”
“Yes.”
“What’s this?” Michael asked.
“Garnet and I were talking yesterday,” Marc answered, “mainly about the whole concept of balance between the two immortal powers. Based on what Danner’s uncle told us about God and Satan and their relationship with each other and the world, and looking at a dozen or so other things, we reasoned that Heaven and Hell are pretty much evenly balanced in power.”
“We all sort of figured that,” Flasch said.
“Well, we were thinking about the Merging,” Marc continued without even glancing at Flasch’s interruption, “and if Hell has had a gateway to the mortal plane for the last few centuries, wouldn’t it stand to reason there might be a gateway of some sort into Heaven? We know there has to be some way to get between the two realms, because of Danner’s mother.”
“The question is,” Garnet broke in, “is it something we can exploit, even assuming we find it? A portal that’s usable only to angels, or one hovering in midair over an ocean really won’t do us much good.”
“And you think there might be something in the archives that will tell us about it,” Michael said.
Garnet nodded.
“Well, it makes sense,” Brican said. “At the very least, it would indicate there was such a portal. Now, though, who knows.”
Marc snapped his fingers.
“Right,” he exclaimed. “I wonder if the connection would still be here now that the Merging is gone. If the two immortal planes really are balanced, the gateway might have disappeared when Hell slid past to assault Heaven directly. I wonder if…”
“Wonder later,” Garnet said, cutting him off. “First, I want you to find out if it even exists and its location. Once we know that, we can go see if it’s actually there, okay?”
“Got it.”
Danner moaned from his cot, then abruptly tried to sit upright and gasped as though in severe pain. The blankets Marc had suggested held Danner down, and he struggled against their confining embrace.
“Danner, relax,” Michael said, putting on hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You’re okay.”
Danner stared at them all with wild, uncomprehending eyes, almost as if he didn’t recognize any of them. He fought frantically to free himself from the blanket holding him down. His arms twisted up, and he tried to claw at the material with his hands.
“At ease, Danner!” Garnet bellowed, and immediately Danner’s struggles ceased. He stared up at Garnet in fear, then suddenly his eyes cleared, and he sighed as his body relaxed and sank back to the cot.
Garnet glanced around the people gathered at Danner’s cot.
“Everyone please leave,” he said slowly. “I need to speak with Danner alone.”
As they all turned to go, Garnet added sternly, “And Brican, stay out of it.”
Brican glanced at the unyielding expression on Garnet’s face and thought better of protesting any intended innocence.
“Yes, sir.”
- 3 -
When Garnet rejoined them an hour later, he told Guilian to detail a group of denarae to keep an eye on Danner and see his rest wasn’t disturbed. Guilian volunteered to take the first shift himself, then left. The commander of Red Platoon was still feeling his way around their command
group when they were off the battle field, and Garnet allowed the denarae his space. The five paladins were already close friends and Brican had quickly assimilated into their group despite his racial antagonism towards humans, and Garnet had faith that Guilian would come along eventually.
“How’d it go?” Flasch asked.
“Well, I hope,” Garnet replied. “Danner doesn’t remember everything from the battle, but he says he remembers he was cornered and felt he had no choice but to use his immortal abilities to save his life.”
“Do you believe him?” Marc asked.
“I believe he felt that way, yes,” Garnet said. “Whether or not he was actually in that much danger is another matter.”
Michael shook his head. “Addicts usually make some sort of excuse to explain their behavior,” he said, “and to them it makes perfect sense. It explains their actions without forcing them to realize just how much of a hold their addiction has over them.”
They stared at him a moment, then Michael shrugged. “I had an uncle,” the Yellow paladin said, shifting uncomfortably. “He drank.”
“That’s more or less what I was thinking,” Garnet said. “I think Danner realizes we’re all just worried about him because he’s our friend. Heaven knows I tried to stress that while I was talking to him. Right now, I think it’s important that we just treat Danner as our friend and support him. Just act normal.”
“You know, that’s really a contradiction of terms,” Marc said. “An oxymoron if you will. You see, when you act, you’re putting on a façade, covering up what’s normal inside you. So really, how can you…”
“Marc,” Garnet said shortly.
“Yes? Oh, sorry,” he said.
Garnet shook his head.
“So what’s the word from the battle?” he asked.
“Well, funny you should ask that,” Brican said. “Apparently the paladins have found something odd about the three men who died.”
Garnet raised an eyebrow.
“I detailed three of my men to help the paladins so they can keep an eye and ear out for what’s going on,” Brican explained without a trace of shame. “They all have the regular claw marks you’d expect from a fight with demons, but apparently the wounds that actually killed them are different somehow. They don’t have a demonic taint, or something like that, and they look more like cuts from a sword. They’re having a hard time overhearing everything the paladins are talking about, and their thoughts are pretty jumbled right now.”
“So they weren’t killed by demons?”
“They aren’t saying that,” Brican corrected him. “They’re really just not sure what happened.”
“Judging by the damage they suffered,” Marc said, “those wounds would have to have been inflicted by a demon, sword or no. Mortals generally don’t have the strength to inflict that kind of damage, and I doubt one of our brothers on the field suddenly turned homicidal.”
“An immortal, you say?” Flasch asked, a hint of worry in his voice.
“Didn’t I just say that?”
“No, you said demon,” Garnet said, eying Flasch with troubled eyes.
“Well, yes, I suppose I,” Marc stopped and stared at Garnet. “Surely, you don’t think…”
“He said he doesn’t remember much of what he was doing during the battle,” Garnet said softly, “and we all know he goes a little berserk where demons are concerned.”
“But you can’t think Danner did this,” Marc protested. Michael voiced his own skepticism in support of Marc.
“I’m not saying he did,” Garnet replied, “but it’s something we can’t rule out entirely just yet.” He turned to Brican. “Once Danner is up and about, see what you can get from his memories. Trebor once said you were good at deep kything, I believe he called it. I think we may need one here, and it’ll take someone of your strength to peek through that mental barrier of his. Propriety be damned.”
Brican stared at him.
“You’re serious.”
“I am.”
Garnet looked at the silent, worried faces around him.
“Damn it, I don’t like it any better than you guys,” Garnet said in frustration, “and San knows I’m hoping and praying nothing comes from it. I’m doing this as much to exonerate Danner as anything else. We need to be sure.” Garnet paused. “For his sake, and for ours.”
Slowly, the others all nodded.
“And one way or another, when it comes down to it,” Garnet continued, “no one tells him but me. Once we know for sure, I’ll tell Danner what we did. God willing, he’ll understand.”
After that, it didn’t seem there was anything else for any of them to say. One by one, they got up and walked silently away from the group until only Garnet and Flasch were left.
“You’re doing the right thing,” Flasch said after a few silent minutes.
“Am I?” Garnet asked softly. “Then why does it feel like my soul is sinking out through my feet?”
“Because it’s a hard decision,” the Violet paladin replied, “and because you care.”
Again, they were both silent for a long time.
“It’s a tough position you’re in, Garnet, and I really don’t envy you the burdens of command,” Flasch said. “You just have to remember that you are, at heart, a good man, and the things you do are from the best intentions. You recognize there’s a darker side to what you’re asking, but because your intentions are pure and in earnest, the love and goodness shines through. It’s a choice. It’s free will, and you’re exercising it toward only the good in yourself and in those around you.”
“The ability to choose is the greatest power a mortal or immortal can ever have,” Garnet quoted softly, trying to remember who had said it. He gave up after only a second of thought, then turned his attention back to Flasch.
“When did you suddenly get so serious?” Garnet asked with a faint smile.
“Shhh,” Flasch said with an impish grin. “Don’t tell anyone, or my reputation will be ruined.”
Garnet barked a short, loud laugh that was probably heard by half the camp.
“Thanks, Flasch. I needed that. All of that.”
“We aim to please,” Flasch said. “Now, if we could just get some personality into Guilian. That man’s as flat as a desert and about as hospitable, too.”
“He is a bit subdued, isn’t he? I’m hoping he’ll loosen up if we give him some time.”
“When we get back to Nocka and reach Home, we’ve got to find him a girl,” Flasch said. “There’s plenty of denarae women at Home, surely one of them will be good for him.”
“Let’s hope, anyway.”
Garnet grunted as he slowly got to his feet. If he let Flasch keep talking, his friend would inevitably mention Garnet’s own lack of female companionship.
“Now shut up about Home, okay?” he said. “I already miss my bed, and you’re not making it any better.”
Garnet clapped a hand on Flasch’s shoulder.
“Come on, let’s go see if the other paladins are eating something that at least resembles real food,” Garnet said. “Whatever we ate last night finally stopped kicking in my stomach, and after today, I’m starving.”
Flasch nodded and made it a full dozen steps before he suddenly stopped and fell behind as Garnet blithely walked on.
“Hey,” Flasch called indignantly, “I cooked dinner last night!”
“Really?” Garnet replied, looking back with a guileless face. “It was wonderful. Loved every bite.”
Chapter 3
From the earth we are born, to the earth we die. Every dwarf who lives and dies returns to the earth’s spirit to enrich the whole of our world’s essence.
- “Den-Dunaekin”[9] (Den-Furral translation – 504 AM)
- 1 -
Alicia sighed in frustration and wiped a cloth across her grimy face. It didn’t help much – the cloth was at least as filthy as her face was – but it made her feel better. She glared at the cluttered room of overturned tables
and broken chairs, wishing she could just wave her hand and make it all disappear.
“How are we ever going to get the rest of this place clean if the boys keep running off?” Alicia grumbled.
“They’re not playing, Alicia,” Moreen said from nearby. She wore a rag tied in front of her face to block the dust and a sort of bonnet on her head to protect her dark, shoulder-length hair. Like Alicia, she wore a long apron over a serviceable tunic and trousers, and she was at least as filthy as the other woman.
“I know that,” Alicia sighed. “It’s just hard being stuck here to clean all this filth day in and day out. It’s too bad the Prism doesn’t admit women – I’d almost rather be out fighting the demons.”
Moreen laughed lightly and leaned against the only table in the room that was right-side-up. Her verdant eyes sparkled with casual mirth.
“Believe me, Alicia, I can sympathize,” she said. “I used to think I’d go mad waiting for Birch to return from this trip or that mission. Sometimes he’d be gone for months at a time, and all I could do was sit on my fears and make due running the Dragoenix. I honestly think that if I hadn’t had that place to keep up, I’d have lost my mind from worry.”
“I’m not worried about them,” Alicia said a bit too quickly. “Well, not really. They take care of each other, and they really do know what they’re doing. It’s just…”
Alicia bit her lip. As much as she loved and trusted Moreen – she was best-friend, sister, and mother-figure all in one for her – still there were things she hadn’t yet told the older woman, and she wasn’t ready to quite yet.
“I understand, Alicia,” Moreen said sympathetically. “Really, I do.”
Alicia hesitated, then nodded. She looked around.
“Just look at this place,” she said, changing the topic. “You can’t even tell we’ve been working in here for the past two hours.”
“Sure you can, there’s a clean spot right over there,” Moreen said, pointing.
“Why the former owner kept all this junk is beyond me,” Alicia grumbled, hiding a smile. “The floor plan said ‘storage room.’ I was expecting crates of bedding, or wine barrels, or something. I was not expecting a room full of garbage-heap cast-offs. Nearly all of this should just be burned.”
Satan's Gambit (The Barrier War Book 3) Page 4