The Hidden Relic (The Evermen Saga, Book Two)

by James Maxwell

  "This is your plan?" Moragon growled, his nostrils flaring. The Primate hadn't seen the melding like this before, not with him at least. The fear of elixir withdrawal must be powerful in Moragon's mind. Hearing the screams of those they'd purged must have shaken the melding. "You don't know what it is, or where it is."

  "I agree," the Primate soothed. "There are sections I need to spend more time on. Zavros will be able to help."

  "Then, Primate, what is your plan? There's a war going on out there. This could all be a waste of time."

  "Yes, it could," the Primate said, surprising the Tingaran. "It makes for tempting bait though.

  "Bait? For who?"

  Melovar smiled. "For the Akari."

  For a moment Moragon was too stunned to speak. Melovar had uttered a name that hadn't been spoken in many years. "No, Primate," Moragon said. The tall man shook his head. "Not the Akari." He looked away as the realisation came to him. "So that's your plan."

  "Think about it," the Primate said. "They never needed the relics to produce their essence. It's perfect. With this as bait, we can make a deal, and with their help, we'll be unbeatable."

  Moragon again shook his head. "Not the Akari. The first Tingaran Emperor banished them for a reason."

  "The Akari have a way of producing essence, Moragon. With essence, we can produce elixir. With more raj nilas we can go on to convert them to our cause, or we can use this relic against them, if we can find it."

  Moragon was pensive for a long moment, before he finally nodded. "You've thought it through. What happens next?"

  "I have a plan, Moragon, but I need your help. I will grant you your wish to go to Halaran, to Ralanast, where your task is to keep Altura at bay, but more importantly, keep the people under your control. When the time comes, the prison camp will become very important. Keep the prisoners close, my friend."

  "I can do that."

  "The Akari must not find out about the elixir. The fact of its existence must be protected at all costs. They are powerful, Moragon, and they may see our weakness. The elixir is our secret weapon."

  "And you, Your Grace?" Moragon asked.

  "I will go to the north, and meet with the Akari. And if this hidden relic of the Evermen exists, I will find it."

  The Primate turned to the melding, locking the Tingaran's eyes with his burning, yellow gaze. "I may not be much longer for this world, Moragon, and when I'm gone, it will be you who rules not just the lands of the Tingaran Empire, but all of Merralya."

  "The Akari," Moragon said. "Don't trust them."

  "Never fear, my friend, never fear. Now go. I will send word to you when I return from the north."

  Moragon left the Primate's study, leaving Melovar wondering when next they would meet.

  The Primate called for a guard. "Prepare me a carriage to go north — far north, into the cold. Then bring me the old man, the pilgrim we left in the dungeons of Salvation. Take him to the interrogation rooms, here in Stonewater. He may be crazed and know nothing, or it may be an elaborate ruse. Either way, we will find out." Melovar licked his lips. "And either way the old man will die."

  14

  KILLIAN sighed and placed yet another gold dinar on the growing pile. He knew he was doing the right thing, but Lord of the Sun, did it have to cost so much?

  The stocky man sitting across from him frowned. Killian groaned and added yet another coin; he only had four left.

  They were in The Light Shines Above, a tavern in Salvation. It was a little… clean for Killian's taste, but he could see why his companion had chosen it to do this business. In this part of town, the templars would come at a moment's notice at any sign of trouble; in fact, many of the clientele were from the Assembly. Two men exchanging a large amount of gilden would be safe here; and Killian knew it was the last place the templars would expect to find him.

  Sitting across from Killian was one of the Buchalanti, an imposing man named Scherlic, a blue-eyed sailor, weathered by the elements, with a broad build and a thick accent. Not for the first time, Killian wondered if he could trust Sailmaster Scherlic, but everyone said that to the Buchalanti, a deal, once made, was unbreakable, and there was no reason for the freedom-loving sailors of Raj Buchalantas to bear any love for the Primate.

  Killian added one more coin to the pile, and still Scherlic waited. Killian had thieved on six separate occasions to get this much gilden together, climbing across roofs, prying open windows and stealing from temple coffers.

  "Why do you not take it yourself?" Sailmaster Scherlic asked, seeing Killian's reluctance.

  "There are some things I need to do here," Killian said. "Someone I need to find."

  Scherlic nodded. "This war has separated many from their loved ones."

  Killian thought about Evrin, the mysterious old man he had finally found, only to vanish after the destruction at Stonewater. "Yes," Killian said slowly. "Loved ones."

  Killian added one more coin to the pile, and finally Scherlic nodded, taking the pile and pulling it towards him, counting the gold coins into a pouch. "You have my word. We will take it."

  Killian lifted the object and placed it on the table between them, quickly pushing it in Scherlic's direction. Killian looked one last time at the Halrana Lexicon, praying it would reach safety, out of the Primate's hands. The rune on its cover glowed softly, still bright from when the strange device Killian had found in the refinery had struck it with a burst of energy.

  "Please, take it," Killian said, glancing around the tavern.

  He felt torn in two different directions. Killian knew he should take the Halrana Lexicon to Altura himself, and find Ella, but the hunger to find out who he really was burned inside him. He had to get the Lexicon to safety, and then he could find the old man. Only Evrin knew about the strange power he possessed. Not only could Killian survive the touch of essence, but runes drawn on his skin enhanced him in the same way they enhanced a zenblade, or a set of armour. What was he?

  "It must go to Altura, to Sarostar, to the Crystal Palace. Give it to the Alturan High Lord and no one else," Killian said.

  "You said, young man." Scherlic frowned.

  The temptation to go to Altura himself still pulled at Killian. He knew it wasn't because of any altruistic desire to see the Halrana Lexicon to safety. Sailmaster Scherlic here probably stood a better chance at getting it to Altura safely than he did. A pair of green eyes and a soft smile hovered at the edge of his vision, framed by hair the colour of sunlight. Killian pictured a body slim but curved, her fair skin blossoming with youth. Ella.

  Sailmaster Scherlic suddenly stood, the pouch jangling at his belt and the Halrana Lexicon now covered with oilcloth in his arms. Salvation was rife with thievery, but Killian knew the Buchalanti had nothing to fear; his brother thieves would stay clear of this one.

  Killian watched the Buchalanti leave and realised he now didn't know what his next step should be. What could have happened to Evrin Evenstar? The old man never told him anything. Anything! Killian knew nothing to explain what his body was capable of, or about Evrin's own incredible skills with runemaking.

  Killian looked out of the tavern's window and up at the mountain of Stonewater, looming over the town below, still visible in the afternoon light. He thought about the tavern's name, The Light Shines Above, obviously a reference to the Pinnacle.

  The Pinnacle was gone now. Killian wondered if the tavern would change its name.

  Killian tried to think about what could have happened to Evrin. The old man whose piercing blue eyes matched Killian's own had sent Killian into the templars' home alone. Evrin had said Killian's task was important, the greatest blow that could be made against the Primate's evil. Yet he had sent the younger man in alone, and they had made a plan to meet at the Temple of the Sky in Salvation.

  But Evrin Evenstar had never arrived.

  When, bruised and battered, Killian had limped down from the mountain, and made his way to their rendezvous, the old man was nowhere to be seen.

&
nbsp; What had taken Evrin away? What was more important than Killian's own quest? While Killian was deep in the mountain, fighting for his life against Saryah — the twisted creature that had once been the High Templar, changed by the Primate's elixir — where was Evrin?

  Killian ran his hands through the fiery red hair that curled to the base of his neck and glared up at Stonewater. There was something here, he knew. The mountain held the secret.

  Killian paid his bill and left the tavern, grimacing at the few coins he received in change. Of course Sailmaster Scherlic had left him to pick up the bill.

  Killian squinted up at the mountain, trying to see to the top. The mountain had billowed smoke like a volcano, people said.

  Killian suddenly stopped. How could it have? What had caused the light to stop shining?

  Killian could climb to the top, following the pilgrim's trail, although there was a chance the trail had been blocked off, and the last people Killian wanted to see were templars. There was an easier way.

  ~

  "GOOD day, sir," the shopkeeper said. As he took notice of Killian's clothing his expression turned to one of distaste. "Ah… Perhaps you'd like to try one of our sister stores, near the temple district. Our prices might not suit what you're after."

  "My master sent me to buy a looking glass," Killian said, his voice gruff. "One of those seeing devices the artificers make. Here." Killian flicked a silver coin, his last, in the shopkeeper's direction. "I have more."

  The shopkeeper's expression smoothed. "Of course." He opened a glass cabinet and withdrew a thin disc about the size of Killian's hand. "Is this the kind of device you're after?"

  Runes covered the edges of the disc, while the centre was blank and shone like a mirror.

  "How do I know if it works?" Killian said.

  The shopkeeper frowned, and then looked at the window. "I can demonstrate it here?"

  "That works," Killian said, "but not that window. Can we look out this one, up at the mountain?"

  "Of course," the shopkeeper said. He led Killian to the window and showed the younger man how to position the seeing device in front of his eyes. "To activate it, you say 'semara-sulara'."

  At the shopkeeper's words, the symbols around the rim of the disc Killian held in his hands lit up with alternating colours of blue and green. The mirrored surface at its centre showed brown rock, dust and rubble.

  "That's the mountain," the shopkeeper said.

  "Hmm," Killian said. He tilted the device, and suddenly he was looking at the sky. This was harder than he had thought it would be.

  "I'll have to ask you to give it back now."

  "Just a moment," Killian said. He moved the device but now it was pointing too low.

  "Please, sir, give it back now."

  "Just a moment!" Killian growled. He glared at the shopkeeper, and the man backed away.

  There. Just a little bit back down. Ah, there it was.

  Killian looked at the place where once the Pinnacle had been: a beacon to the faithful of the Tingaran Empire and a source of pilgrims bringing wealth to the Assembly of Templars.

  Where the light had been, there was now nothing, but Killian already knew that. What drew his attention was the mound of rubble on Stonewater's summit. Something had happened here, and it had nothing to do with the destruction that had followed in Killian's wake. What if Evrin Evenstar had his own mission to complete, and it had something to do with the Pinnacle, the most famous relic in a place known for its mysteries?

  Killian absently handed the seeing device back to the shopkeeper and walked out of the shop, his gaze captive to the mountain's peak, unaware of the shopkeeper's words following him out. How could he find out more? Who would have answers?

  Killian thought again about how he had first found out he was different. The templars had taken him, just another orphan and thief, and given him the strange liquid. They had been amazed at his body's lack of response, although at the time Killian hadn't known it was death or addiction they were expecting.

  There was one templar in particular, leading them, a man who was knowledgeable about the relics and their powers. A templar who valued knowledge above all else, with a fanaticism Killian could only now appreciate.

  Zavros.

  Killian decided he needed to pay Templar Zavros a visit.

  ~

  ZAVROS stood silently regarding the destruction of the refinery, deep in the bowels of Stonewater, at the foot of the great shaft that ran the height of the mountain.

  The explosion had blown outwards, opening a seam into the open air through which the intruder had probably escaped. Saryah met her end here; they had found her broken body in the rubble. Zavros had thought nothing in this world could kill Saryah.

  Like Melovar Aspen, High Templar Saryah took too much of the elixir, but it affected her differently. It took both of their humanity, but where Melovar became senseless to pain, whether his own or another's, Saryah responded more physically.

  At any rate, she was dead now, and Zavros would never be able to study her further.

  Zavros wondered about himself. Some of the prisoners had called him inhuman; that, and names much worse. Zavros wasn't inhuman; it was simply that he knew the truth: nothing was more important than knowledge.

  Knowledge had led to the foundation of this great civilisation. Knowledge separated people from the beasts, and knowledge lasted forever. It grew like a mighty tree, passing from generation to generation like a seed that became a stem, a trunk that branched and took it in unexpected directions. A mathematical novelty could become a weapon of war; a sundial could improve crop rotation. Even so-called lore paled beside the wonders of the physical universe. Zavros shared the Primate's vision for a world that had thrown off the shackles of magic. A world of libraries and universities, where the mysteries of the heavens were unravelled, and people were given the same opportunity to learn, rather than follow some archaic system of enchantment academies and builders' guilds.

  Zavros wanted to know why blood could fill a human with life, yet take away the blood and he would die. Why did a babe die if it was never held — something Zavros had tested himself? Why did a man's temperament change when he was wounded in the head? And if more of his brain was taken out, how is it he could sometimes talk, but not move his hands, or move his hands but not talk?

  As for lore, why was essence a poison, the deadliest poison imaginable, yet a substance that could fill objects with life? Did no one ask? And how could elixir rejuvenate a man's vitality and heal his wounds? What strange fluid now flowed through the Primate's veins?

  Zavros burned to find out. Any more experiments though would require more essence. Essence that Moragon needed for the war effort. Essence he did not have.

  "Destroyed." Zavros sighed, looking at where the refinery used to be. "Completely destroyed."

  "Good to hear," a voice said. "That was my objective."

  Before Zavros could react, a hand curled around his neck, twisting him and shoving him back against the wall.

  Zavros looked through his oculars, down the length of his nose at the blue eyes that blazed in front of him. "You," Zavros said. "The one who is unharmed by essence." He nodded, looking pleased, even in the position he was in. "Ah, it all makes sense."

  "I'm glad you remember me," Killian said. "I would say it's good to see you, Zavros, but I would be lying. Tell me, I want to know. How many did you kill before you got the elixir right?"

  "Killian… Killian," Zavros tut-tutted, "what lies have you been listening to? Once we were friends, and you shared our vision for the world."

  "Not any more," Killian said. "I stole for the Primate… I even killed for your cause. Not any more. Answer my question. How many have you used for your experiments? How many died for the knowledge?"

  Zavros shrugged. "I keep only the statistics that are of interest to me. I can tell you percentages, but numbers?"

  "I should kill you now," Killian said.

  "Why don't you?" Zavros aske
d, raising an eyebrow. He sneered, even as he felt the grip around his throat tighten. Zavros wasn't an old man but Killian was strong, with the lean body of a dancer or an acrobat. Zavros was no fighter.

  "There's something I want from you first," Killian said.

  Zavros tried to laugh, but with the squeeze on his neck it came out more like a choke. "Why should I tell you anything? I have no fear of death."

  Killian snatched the oculars from Zavros's face and threw them to the ground. Zavros blinked and tried to focus on the man in front of him.

  Killian pulled something out of a pocket; a small white stone, vaguely cube-shaped and drawn over with black squiggles.

  "What's that?" Zavros asked.

  "It's one of the devices that caused the destruction you see here."

  "Do your worst."

  "Your library isn't far from here; just two floors up, isn't it?"

  Zavros felt a chill. Knowledge was forever, and could last beyond the lifespan of any man, but books could be destroyed, and the knowledge could be destroyed with them.

  "You wouldn't." Zavros knew the fear was written across his face.

  "Why wouldn't I?" Killian said. "Tell me what I need to know."

  "No."

  Killian's shoulders moved with what Zavros's blurred vision said was a shrug. "You've seen what this can do. I'll go activate this now in your library, and then we can see what effect pain has on one such as you."

  "What do you want to know?" Zavros stalled.

  "The Pinnacle... What happened there? Did you find anything? Anything… or anyone?"

  "What are you looking for?" Zavros was surprised. Killian had admitted to destroying the machines but evidently someone else was responsible for the Pinnacle. The Primate would be interested to know about this.

  "Just tell me what you know."

  "The light guarded a building, but it was destroyed, in an explosion like the one here. We found some runes on the blocks of stone and a mad pilgrim in the rubble. That's all."

  Zavros felt he hadn't given away anything compromising. His mind worked furiously. What was Killian looking for? Killian must know about the book. This young man had information the Primate needed.