“I have one final addendum of my own,” the Cloud King said, which gave me pause.
I had to keep a level head, so I inclined me head, “What is it?”
Co’Zar’I’Us’ face contorted into a thinly veiled sneer. “I have somewhat less faith in the Binding’s efficacy when it comes to enforcing the terms of our Pact upon you,” he explained with a hint of malevolence in his voice.
I shrugged, completely at a loss. “I don’t follow,” I said after a pregnant pause.
“As I said earlier,” the Cloud King explained, “I hear two voices when I speak with you…and I must be certain that my interests are protected.”
I was wary, but I had come too far to back out impulsively. “What did you have in mind?”
He waved his hand dismissively. “Nothing untoward, I assure you,” he said all-too-congenially. “I merely desire a more…indelible indication of our agreement.”
“Indelible,” I mused, “that doesn’t sound good for me.”
Co’Zar’I’Us chuckled. “It is nothing more strenuous than the language expressed in the standard Pact of Binding your Guild uses,” he said in an assuring tone, “and if you find that I have misrepresented the matter, you may absolve yourself of our agreement without my protestations. Do we have an accord?”
I closed my eyes and thought hard about what I was going to do. I nodded stiffly, “So long as what you’re suggesting doesn’t impede my ability to pursue my own agenda in any capacity, that’s fine.”
The Cloud King chuckled malevolently. “Oh, I assure you it will be nothing like that,” he replied with certainty, and I saw his hand begin to glow and crackle with electricity. “I merely desire a deeper location on which to set the Mark of Binding,” he explained as he drew his fist back.
I clenched my jaw. “Marks of Binding are worn on the skin—usually the upper torso,” I growled. “How much deeper are you talking about?”
Co’Zar’I’Us’ face erupted into a full-blown sneer, and it was impossible to avoid the sense of foreboding the expression evoked. “Just a few inches,” he promised, and plunged his crackling fist deep into the left side of my chest.
My entire body was wracked with spasms and my nerves were simultaneously overwhelmed and heightened to an impossible degree, making every, single, static-bound hair howl in pain.
I’m sure I would have screamed as well, but I lost physical control completely while we were intertwined. I could feel burning, crushing energy pouring out of the Cloud King’s form into my own.
After an agonizing period—which probably only lasted an instant but felt like an hour—he withdrew his hand from my chest and I collapsed to the fluffy cloud below.
“It is done,” Co’Zar’I’Us said reverently. “We are Bound and Marked, as agreed and written in the Binder’s flesh.”
I gasped for breath, and every inch of my skin felt like it was exploding in a random pattern which threatened to overpower my sanity. But I kept my focus and after a minute or so, I was able to feel my fingers and toes.
A few minutes later, I had regained enough sensation to try standing, so I did. Incredibly, I didn’t fall down and I found myself looking at the smug face of Co’Zar’I’Us the Cloud King.
“Now,” I whispered hoarsely, still lacking control over my vocal cords, “we return and battle the Iron Butcher together.”
Co’Zar’I’Us chuckled and shook his head sadly. “You truly do not know who you are about to fight, do you?” he asked with wonderment in his voice. “How wonderfully tragic…”
It was my turn to sneer as I drew myself up. “I don’t care who it is,” I spat, “I’ll destroy him, and you’re now bound to help me!”
Co’Zar’I’Us shook his head again. “You know the rules of our pact: in order to summon me to your world, you must prepare a suitable offering which will fuel my projection. The greater the offering, the greater my temporal presence’s power and duration,” he reminded.
“You will use your own power this time,” I said coldly, at which he scoffed but I held up a finger which quickly silenced him, “and after we’ve won I’ll provide you with one cup of mythicite – or rather, Gods Blood,” I said, holding my finger in the space between us emphatically for a few seconds before lowering my arm to my side. “After which time, you will receive compensation commensurate with standard Guild practices.”
“One cup,” he mused, obviously intrigued. It was at least ten times the standard rate for an appearance, to my understanding, and it was clearly enough to get his attention. However, he shook his head. “Your offer is generous, but the laws governing my kind are too strict: I must receive something tangible before manifesting at all,” he explained, and I sensed that he was truly distraught over his inability to accept the offer.
A Cheshire Cat-like smile then spread across his features suddenly, and I barely suppressed the urge to flinch at the prospect of further physical contact with him.
“However…there is something you could promise me which, combined with your proposed quantity of Gods Blood, would allow me to accept,” he offered mischievously.
I rolled my eyes. I had already offered more than he would ever get for such an arrangement, and he was still haggling with me. “What is it, Co’Zar’I’Us?”
He winced slightly at my use of his name, but kept his focus. “You have already found a suitable host for my first vessel,” he purred.
“Who is that?” I asked, suddenly intrigued.
“The half-man; you call him Dancer,” he explained with a savage grin.
The other eyebrow shot up my forehead and I was at a loss for words. “I…would have to ask him,” I stammered.
The Cloud King shook his head adamantly. “You will not ask him: you will instruct him, using every last shred of your meager authority over him. He will be my first vessel,” he said with finality.
I exhaled slowly. The truth was that I doubted it would be a hard sell, since Dancer coveted anything which might give him another edge in combat. He considered combat to be the most perfect form of dance, and he strove to master every step before he died.
The little man had been quite clear that the length of his life was less important than how completely he mastered his craft, which is part of why he had willingly enrolled in the Gladiatorial Proving. It was an annual event which was usually reserved for criminals who wished to expunge parts of their records by first winning in the arena, and then by assisting a journeyman High Wizard like myself in his travels.
It was there that he had caught my attention by killing a dozen ‘giants,’ who were huge, lumbering brutes between seven and eight feet tall that had been captured raiding a village on the outskirts of Veldyrian territory. He had brought them all down in less than a minute—using nothing but his magical spear.
“I doubt he’ll object,” I answered eventually. “But you will leave him when I tell you, and if you desire to file a grievance with The Guild, you can do so at your leisure,” I said in a tone which brooked no dispute.
Co’Zar’I’Us looked like he wanted to argue, but he visibly relaxed and nodded his head. “That is acceptable. The circumstances of our joining are extenuating, to say the least,” he admitted. “It is a great leap on my part to agree to these amendments,” he boomed, his voice suddenly explosive. “I will hold you to our bargain, wizard!”
“Of that, I have no doubt,” I assured him, as I knew I had just struck a bargain with a not-entirely-proverbial Devil. “Now, however, you will help me.”
He nodded. “I will, but my means are somewhat limited at present,” he said with obvious disappointment.
I was shocked. “What do you mean?! I don’t need to remind you of the consequences of your failure to uphold your end of our bargain,” I seethed, “or do I?”
“I merely mean that in order to manifest without an offering on hand,” he retorted somewhat more meekly than I had expected, “I must channel my magnificence through one of your companions, and it cannot be the half-man,
” he warned. “He will not serve as a suitable vessel if I channel through him now.”
I furrowed my brow. “Then who do you suggest?” I asked impatiently.
“The Desert Knight will suffice, though he will pay a significant physical price,” he said with a shrug of his ethereal shoulders. “I must warn that what you ask is perhaps beyond our combined abilities; your foe is ancient, older than even I,” he warned. “I cannot guarantee anything but a successful retreat for you and the others.”
I felt cold fury rising in my gut. “You’ll have to do better than that,” I threatened.
The Cloud King shrugged his shoulders indifferently. “It makes no difference to me whether the Desert Knight lives or dies, so I will of course do my best since one cup of Gods Blood will more than replenish whatever resources I might expend on your behalf.” He paused for emphasis. “I am merely suggesting that retreat might be preferable for all involved.”
“For all except Aemir,” I spat.
He locked eyes with me. “This is not some petty squabble, you infantile ape,” he growled. “You are about to enter into not only a battle, but a war with a foe who is greater than yourself.”
I admit I was a bit stunned by this proclamation, so I chuckled in response, trying for a maniacal sound and pulling it off rather well. “You’re so certain I’ll fail, are you?”
He nodded solemnly, “I am.”
His serious demeanor gave me pause, and I searched his features unsuccessfully for a clue as to what he meant. “And why is that, exactly?”
A look of sadness crossed his face before he shook his head and said, “Because while you do not lack the ability to conquer your foe, what you do lack is the will to make the necessary sacrifice required for victory,” he explained quietly. “At what should be the final moment, with that victory less than a hair’s breadth away, you will falter and the people who depend upon you will pay the price of your failure.” Co’Zar’I’Us looked off into his realm with what might have been wistfulness. “I have already seen it happen.”
I had no idea what he meant, but frankly it sounded like a load of crap. Since none of what he had said changed what needed to be done, I shook off his cryptic attempt at soothsaying. I could deal with personal sacrifice, if that’s what he was talking about. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time I’d made a sacrifice in my life.
“We have work to do, Cloud King,” I ordered.
His eyes again found mine and he nodded. “Indeed,” he agreed, “we have, at that.”
Chapter XII: The Whole Nine Yards
My eyes snapped open, and time seemed to move like a fly caught in molasses. Dancer was in mid-air, apparently having sprung off the intact obelisk to drive his spear into another pair of skeletons. I hadn’t been out of it long, as there were only two downed foes near his position, which at his speed meant I was probably only gone about five seconds.
The Iron Butcher, however, had covered more than half the distance between the train car and myself—and only Aemir’s still-frozen form stood between us.
I closed my mind to outside stimuli and focused on Co’Zar’I’Us’ name, which prompted a spell to spring into my mind like when I used the Spell Key which Arch Magos Rekir had given me. Except this spell seemed to be much more controlled, and I could understand what each glyph, symbol, and pattern meant.
I opened my eyes and saw that the Iron Butcher had closed significantly more distance, but Dancer was still in mid-air. Our enemy was apparently moving at inhuman speed, and it was now or never if we were to have any hope of victory.
The spell completed forming in my mind, and with more than a twinge of regret I projected it onto Aemir’s body. It formed instantly and lingered there, seeming to yearn for the energy needed to activate it.
I didn’t hesitate, and I flooded it with as much power as it needed, which was at least half of my remaining reserves.
The effect was instantaneous as the spell surrounded Aemir’s body before collapsing into him like an explosion in reverse, which was quickly followed by a proper explosion as energy rioted out of his body. The shockwave snapped my senses back into real time, and knocked everyone off their feet except the Iron Butcher and Aemir.
Actually, to call him Aemir at that point was probably inaccurate. When I could focus on him again, I saw that he was levitating a foot off the ground, his skin had gained a bluish-grey glow and his hair was standing at impossible angles, with lines of static electricity dancing between the stiffened locks which had erupted from beneath his ruined turban.
I could only see his back, but it was clear that the spell had worked: Aemir was possessed by the Cloud King. Now we had to see if it had been worth it.
The Iron Butcher, who had only been stopped momentarily by the explosive display, resumed its murderous charge toward me and raised its savage cleaver high in the air, clearly intending to finish me once and for all. As it came down I actually had my life flash before my eyes.
I know people say that all the time and I used to think it was nothing but a load of melodrama, but it actually happened in that brief instant before the killing blow came down. I guess it wasn’t my entire life that ran through my mind’s eye, but a few choice scenes from my teenage years which would demand further examination at a later date.
I should have erected my defense field, but in retrospect it’s pretty obvious that the Iron Butcher’s supernatural fear had affected me more than I believed at the time. Either that or my usual instincts to erect the shield had taken a momentary leave on their own volition, which seemed unlikely.
There was a loud clang as Aemir’s scimitar intercepted the cleaver no more than a foot from my face, and if such a monstrous being’s body language could be said to show doubt, then in that moment I saw it in the Iron Butcher.
Aemir, or Co’Zar’I’Us, or whoever it was at this point, held his blocking scimitar easily in one hand and the other hand reached high above his head. It was quickly engulfed in crackling electricity, which formed a sphere the size of a basketball that rapidly grew until it was at least three feet in diameter.
He brought the crackling ball of energy down into the Iron Butcher’s chest and released it with a massive recoil and blast that deafened me instantly, flattening me against the floor. My ears were filled with that whining noise which usually followed an explosion one is standing close to.
When I shook out the cobwebs, I saw that all of the skeletons had been destroyed. Dancer was just regaining his feet, and Pi’Vari appeared to be unconscious.
But Aemir’s possessed body hurtled through the air toward the Iron Butcher, who had been knocked across the room where his electrically charged body lay against the locomotive. The possessed Desert Knight’s scimitar was raised above his head, and was now encircled with its own aura of crackling electricity. He brought it down into the Butcher’s body after he sailed through the air almost too fast to see.
His blow struck true and carried with it the full might and fury of an honest-to-God lightning bolt, the flash of which left a huge blind spot in my vision. A gash opened in the Iron Butcher’s armor at the midsection and Aemir rained down blow after blow into the wound, his blade moving so fast that I couldn’t count the strikes.
The gash became wider and deeper with each successive strike, and out of the ragged, metal, wound poured dark purple ichor which seemed to vaporize almost instantly on contact with the air. The Iron Butcher lay motionless, although the field of electrical energy which appeared to have robbed the creature of its ability to move had dissipated rapidly and I saw its right hand begin to twitch.
The Co’Zar’I’Us-possessed-Aemir raised his hand high above his head again and summoned another ball of lightning, clearly intending to detonate this one inside the Iron Butcher’s newly opened wound.
But his foe had regained its senses after the momentary lapse, and with a blindingly fast motion the Iron Butcher swatted the flying Desert Knight’s body away with a savage, backhand blow, sending him cra
shing into the stone wall forty feet away where the second globe of lightning erupted with another brilliant flash on impact.
Things weren’t going as well as I’d hoped, so I raised my right hand with the Spell Key strapped to it. The spell’s ethereal form leapt from the device and into the air in front of my mind’s eye.
The Iron Butcher had regained its feet and initiated another bull rush toward me, and I can’t fully convey just how terrifying a sight it was. Out of nowhere, Dancer leapt into the fray and his spear pierced the Iron Butcher’s right pauldron, and out of the wound flashed a deep, purple light. Dancer tried to pull the spear out as he swung his body around behind the Butcher’s back, but it was lodged firmly in the demonic figure’s shoulder.
Unfazed, the little man jumped on top of the Butcher’s back and for an almost comical moment, he looked exactly like a five year old child riding on his father’s shoulders.
Dancer then began raining blows down on the Butcher’s helmet with his bare hands, savage fury burning in his eyes as he was clearly overcome with battle lust. The barbed teeth arrayed along his bracers even managed to draw a few scrapes across the iron surface of the helmet.
But the Iron Butcher was not deterred, and with little more than a flick of its left arm the ancient creature reached up and pierced Dancer’s chest with its vicious meat hook. The implacable monster never even broke its stride moving toward my position, and with the same, quick, motion it had used to spear my little warrior’s chest, the charging nightmare launched Dancer’s body from its shoulders and sent his tiny form hurtling toward me.
I kept my focus and sidestepped Dancer’s profusely bleeding body as it soared past me. We were all dead if I didn’t get this spell off, so I needed to maintain concentration. The Butcher swatted Dancer’s spear like it was a mere annoyance, and it flew across the room to clatter against the stone wall. The living nightmare then raised its rusty, bloodstained cleaver as it neared my position.
I poured energy out of myself and this time, for whatever reason, my timing was perfect and I filled the spell with what appeared to be the exact right amount of energy. I smirked as I knew with absolute certainty that this would be the most potent manifestation I had wrought of this particular spell.
Revelation (Seeds of Humanity: The Cobalt Heresy) Page 13