“Tokul means trap, and teiranon is the immortal word for a holy warrior, or paladin. But Ash’Ailant has never been translated accurately,” the Orange said, shaking his head. “It figures prominently in several of the last texts we have, though, and there are many who believe it to be something important.”
“It means Stones, sir,” Danner said quietly. “Not in the sense of a rock, but something much more important. That’s what I overheard, anyway. There seemed to be a lot more meaning than just the words being said, if that makes sense.”
“Stones…” the Orange paladin mused. “Some sort of important stones, yes? But what?”
Morningham’s faced paled abruptly, then flushed with irritation. The scars on his face practically seethed with a crimson glow.
“You dolt, he means THE Stones,” Morningham said sharply. “You’re an Orange, for San’s sake, and a Protector. The Stones. The ones that hold the Barrier.”
“Gerard!” the Yellow paladin barked from his seat across the tent. So far he’d remained silent, but at his rebuke Morningham snapped his jaw shut. Danner and the others marveled that anyone or anything could bring Gerard Morningham up short. The Red paladin paused in thought, then turned to the Yellow.
“Wings and demons, I think this is one time we need to bend the rules a bit,” Morningham said irritably. “It’s why I gathered this group and not some other paladins. These trainees are obviously caught up in something here, and if they’re not prepared it could mean our asses and their lives. Maybe something more,” he added cryptically, glancing meaningfully at Danner.
Without waiting for a reply, Morningham turned back to them.
“The six of you are sworn on your lives not to reveal this to anyone else,” he said seriously. “Not to your fellow trainees, not to your mommies, not even to another paladin, not without asking one of us first, and that includes that uncle of yours,” Morningham said with a severe look at Danner. “Do I make myself clear?”
They all nodded, and he held each of their eyes for a long moment before he nodded in return.
“There’s a very few people who know the truth about this, and you’re about to join their select ranks. For now, you’re not even to know the names of these other paladins. You know Jon and I, but if you’re captured and interrogated, at least these others will be safe when you squeal. Perhaps as things unfold, and if you prove yourselves, you might be of further help to us.” The trainees looked uneasily at each other.
“Now,” Morningham said, and their eyes all snapped back to him, “when the Merging was formed, demons crossed in unlimited numbers and with nothing to prevent their passage. The paladins eventually fought them to a standstill, but even that wouldn’t have been enough to save our world. What most people have forgotten, what you won’t find in many history book outside the Prism, is that there were immortals who fought by our side.”
Danner listened, and something deep within him told him every word the man spoke was true. It was like he was being told something he’d learned a long time ago and had just forgotten temporarily. Morningham nodded toward the thin-faced Orange paladin.
“Angels from Heaven came down and helped us fight,” the Orange paladin continued where Morningham had left off. “The paladins then wondered why so few came to help, and the immortals mentioned something about internal difficulties in Heaven, but didn’t elaborate. San, at that point the paladins were just grateful for any help at all! It was these angels who left us the texts we mentioned, and the last ones written were the ones with the word Ash’Ailant in them. So it makes sense now that they were referring to the Stones, since that’s when they were created. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
“The problem lay in that the Merging was starting to grow, or at least to move. It was starting to encompass more than just the strip of land past Nocka, and demons began appearing where none had been before. With the aid of the angels, the Merging was held in check and eventually pushed back to the land bounded by the EarthForge. The water helps with the binding somehow. They couldn’t hold it indefinitely, however, so with the aid of the paladins, they constructed seven Stones out of rock brought from Heaven itself. Angelstone they called it, appropriately enough. People call the wall of stone and mortar the Barrier, but it is the Stones which are the true Barrier. It is they that keep the Merging in check.
“It happened right at the end of the war, so when people finally noticed them, they were told the Stones were just monuments to honor the paladins who’d died fighting the demons. There is a Stone for each Facet, including White, and they stand at the seven gates of the Barrier.” The paladin paused in thought. His orange cloak stirred as a breeze slipped into the room.
Marc cleared his throat and raised a hand.
“Why did they disguise the purpose of the Stones, sir?” he asked. “Why pass them off as monuments?”
“Because there were still demons in this world, just as there are today,” the Orange paladin answered. “Now listen closely, because this is the most important part. If the Stones are destroyed, the Merging will once more begin to spread across our world, and Hell will eventually encompass the entire mortal plane. They are the only thing holding Hell back.
“Since only a very few paladins and the angels who helped knew the true nature of the Stones, no one could even guess at their importance. When the immortals left our world again, they exacted a promise that the paladins who knew the truth would continue to protect that secret and guard the Stones throughout the remainder of human existence. They became the first of the Protectors, and we are all that’s left of their heirs. We usually stay close to Nocka, and most have died here, but some died on a jintaal while others became White paladins and crossed the Merging to die there.”
Danner sat silent, his thoughts churning.
“So where does that leave us?” he asked at last.
“Well, de’Vald… Danner, that leaves us to figure out the purpose behind these accursed attacks on you and why The Three crossed in the first place,” Morningham replied. “What makes you so special that you warrant the personal attention of The Three? And presumably, unless there’s been a shift in power, The Three would be working directly for the King of Hell, so perhaps it’s more than just their attention we should be worried about.”
Danner felt an uncontrollable urge to shiver. His hands shook a moment, then he regained control of himself and sat motionless.
“Danner, I think I have to ask this,” the Orange paladin said. “It may seem strange, but in light of what happened today, I hope you’ll understand.” He paused.
“Are you sure you’re human?”
Chapter 35
In truth, until the instant Birch returned, I thought I had finally let go of him. I knew I would never love another, but I’d finally accepted that he would never come back to me. I’ve kept his table – our table – as a sort of shrine, the way people often keep sacred mementos of departed loved ones. And yet the instant I saw him last night, my first thought was, “I knew you’d come back to me. I knew it.” Now what am I to do?
- Moreen an’Beatriz,
private journals (1012 AM)
- 1 -
“What?”
Danner stared at him in shock.
“Listen to him, Danner,” Trebor kythed.
“Please understand, I’m looking at this from a purely logical point of view,” the Orange said. “You can understand, and presumably speak, the immortal tongue, something no mortal of any race has ever been able to do. You have what can only be called wings, and they are identical in appearance to the best descriptions we have of the Heavenly immortals, what we call angels. And Jon here tells me your wounds were already healing on their own, without outside prayer and healing, something he can’t account for.”
“I’ve always been a quick healer,” Danner said quickly.
“That’s exactly my point,” the Orange replied, leaning forward. “How much do you remember of your childhood?”
Danner bl
inked, startled.
“How much does anyone remember of their childhood?” he returned defensively.
“Less and less as you get older,” the paladin admitted, “but you’re still young enough to remember most of it. So how much do you remember?”
Danner thought back to his training under his father and Maran. He remembered being a small child and his first lessons in slipping unnoticed through crowds. Further back, he remembered playing with toys Maran made for him, puzzles that challenged his young mind and developed his creativity and puzzle-solving skills at an early age, skills that would later be turned to lock-picking and sleight-of-hand tricks.
“I remember a lot,” he said finally. “Probably back to when I was just a few years old. I lived with my father in his den of thieves, and learned how to be a thief practically from the cradle.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely,” he said with unshakable confidence.
The Orange paladin sighed. “Well, that rules out the possibility of you being an immortal yourself, somehow come down and amnesiac. Fairy tales and romantic fantasies are full of such ideas. An angel who comes down and loses his memory, then falls for a woman and eventually learns his true identity and has to leave. I thought maybe there was a grain of truth to it. We’ll look elsewhere.”
“Perhaps not,” Morningham said, raising a hand. “Danner, I know your uncle, and I’ve met your father, too.”
Danner stared at him in surprise.
“Come to think of it, I even saw you as a mewling babe in your crib, but that was a long time ago. There was never a shred of doubt you were your father’s son, but the point now is, you were also your mother’s son. Do you remember your mother?”
“No,” Danner replied sadly. “She died when I was born. Something about internal bleeding. She only got to hold me once.”
“From what I’ve heard, you bear a strong resemblance to her.”
Danner nodded.
“Perhaps there’s more to those old fairy tales than meets the eye then,” Morningham said. “Except it wasn’t a woman the angel fell in love with, but a female immortal who fell in love with a man. Your father.”
Danner stared wordlessly at the Red paladin, too stunned to think. What he was saying was impossible. His mother, an angel? The idea was insane – or at least ridiculous.
“Unfortunately, that’s something we may never know,” Morningham said, breaking into Danner’s thoughts. “For now, I think we should stick with things we do know.
“First, The Three were sent here for some purpose, and we have to assume that purpose has been met, at least in part. The other two are still out there someplace, causing who knows what sort of mischief. Perhaps if your uncle was here, he might have some sort of insight into their mission.” Morningham sighed. “I always thought the Council was a bit premature in sending him off chasing what we only thought to be that unholy trio. All the while, one of them was sitting in our midst poisoning us from within.”
“Lord Donnor was instrumental in implementing the mass journey into Hell, from all reports,” the Blue paladin said. “If you’re right, and he’s our demon, then that had to be one of their objectives. They lured half the paladins away, and they’re probably walking into a trap even now.”
“Why doesn’t someone try to warn them?” Flasch asked, his voice a bit shrill. “Surely there’s a way.”
The Orange paladin shook his head. “I’m sorry, but there probably isn’t. As soon as Jon came to us with what Danner had told him, we discussed the possibility. But anyone or anything we sent now wouldn’t arrive until sometime tomorrow, at best, and I don’t think it’s likely the demons are going to give them much time to think about their mission and have second thoughts. Also, time passes more quickly there according to Birch, so they’d be even further out of reach.”
He shook his head. “No, the demons will attack as soon as possible, and our brothers will be slaughtered.”
“But they’re soldiers of God,” Flasch cried. “Shouldn’t we hold out the possibility that they’ll survive? Even some of them?”
“We can only hope and pray, lad,” the Violet paladin said to him. “Faith is a powerful tool, but it’s rarely a substitute for careful planning or an effective counter to a well-laid trap. Just in case, we did send a pair of paladins with a warning to deliver with all possible speed. It’s against all hopes, but perhaps they’ll arrive in time to stop the disaster.”
“So what happens if they’re not successful?” Garnet asked quietly.
“Then our ranks have just been cut in half, and that’s counting every paladin spread out across the known world,” Morningham replied. “We can only assume that Hell is on the verge of some major offensive. Demons with the strength of The Three have never been able to cross before, which means the Merging is weakening somehow. When we finish here, we’re going to leave immediately for Nocka and send out recall orders for every paladin from here to El’aman’niren’a. We’ll send requests for aid to the dwarves and elves, and even the gnomes.”
“What about the denarae?” Trebor asked, trying to keep his voice neutral.
“I don’t think they’d be of much help, nor inclined to help us, but I suppose we’ll try,” Morningham said noncommittally. “We’ll likely need every hand we can get, even theirs.”
Trebor tensed at Danner’s side, but Danner focused on a warning thought to his friend.
“Now’s not the time, Trebor.”
“The other thing we have to worry about,” Morningham continued, oblivious to the mental interchange, “is that the demons obviously know the truth about the Stones. They’ll come against the Barrier with everything they’ve got, and this time we don’t have immortals to help us. If they destroy the Stones, our world is lost.”
The room was silent as they all digested what Morningham had just said. It settled in Danner’s stomach like a lump of lead, and he choked down the sick feeling it left in him.
“There’s probably more we should discuss, but for now we need to get camp broken and head back to Nocka,” Morningham said brusquely. “Remember that you’re to discuss this with no one. If you learn anything else or remember something you haven’t told us, come to me or Jon immediately. Don’t look for any of the others, and if you see them don’t even acknowledge they exist as anything but some paladin you’ve never met. Understand?”
“Yes, sir,” they answered in unison. The six paladins departed, leaving the trainees alone.
There was a moment of silence, which was predictably broken by Flasch.
“So let me get this straight. Trebor is really a denarae, Faldergash is actually a Dale gnome, and Danner is some sort of half-angel or something. Is there anything else somebody’s not telling us? Garnet, you’re not really, like, a hermaphroditic dwarf, are you?”
Flasch earned his usual slap upside the head from Garnet, but at least he’d broken the silence and tension of the moment.
“Come on,” Danner said. “Let’s get packed and ready to leave.”
- 2 -
“Have you never wondered what happened to all the paladins who’ve crossed the Merging over the centuries?”
“They died.”
The Voice laughed. “Of course they did, they were mortals, and it’s in your nature to die. But it’s what they did before their deaths that’s so important.”
He hung in silence for a long moment, turning over several unpleasant possibilities in his head. The Voice left him in silence, waiting.
Finally, he said, “Enlighten me.”
“All of them held strong for a time, just as you have, mortal, lasting for months, even years at a time. In the end, each had only three options. For those whose bodies were weaker than their wills, they escaped into death. Others remain strong in both body and mind, and they reside here in this very tower, enduring never-ending torture even as you do. These are my favorite. Such strength, such wonderful strength.”
The Voice sighed in satisfaction.
>
“And the others?” he asked, knowing the Voice wanted him to. “You said three options.”
“The truly weak ones,” the Voice said with contempt. “They broke in mind, and they were turned. They serve the King of Hell willingly, commanding troops and training armies for some grand future that may never come. Those cursed fools serve in life and death, trapped in the knowledge that they are betraying everything they once held dear.
“Their servitude is most sweet to the demons, who have no appreciation for true power and strength.”
He laughed without mirth. “You imply that you do appreciate it, but are you yourself not a demon? You torment me as I lie blind, twisting my thoughts and probing my life with piercing insight, providing me the only release and escape from torture to be found here. But this is Hell, and there can be no such release, and so I wonder what tortures you hold in store for me, even as I desperately hope for your next visit.”
He paused, then he did smile. “Even if you are nothing more than a sign of my sanity leaving, a figment of my imagination is better than no companion at all. So then, are you demon or dream?”
The Voice laughed with the whispering roar of ocean waves, then paused, considering. “You remember our past conversations, mortal?”
“Not the substance, just that we have spoken before,” he replied.
“Interesting. This requires further study.”
Before he could speak again, a cloying lethargy enveloped his mind, and his sightless head began to spin slowly. Distantly, he heard a seductive whisper.
“Forget, mortal. Forget.”
As his mind slowly succumbed to the sweet promise of oblivion, he realized the Voice hadn’t answered his question.
- 3 -
Birch awoke the next day amidst loud shouts and the sound of the ship creaking as the waves rolled it gently in place against the dock. He struggled slowly to consciousness, fighting past half-remembered glimpses of a three-sided tower that filled him with terror and left his body aching with phantasmal pain. He opened his blurry eyes as the door to the cabin opened and had just focused on her face when suddenly Moreen was at his side and hugging him to her.
Hunting The Three (The Barrier War) Page 42