“You dare call a Loszian of true blood a liar?” the emperor asked with an edge to his voice. Taraq’nok’s eyes flashed momentarily, and Cor was certain an insult had been hurled at him.
“No, Sovereign,” Taraq’nok answered, his calm returned. “The events as they occurred to that point are true, but I am in no way harboring the Dahken. In fact, I have brought him as a gift to you Sovereign.”
Cor’s eyes widened in alarm behind his visor, and he realized he had been trapped. A hundred thoughts flashed through his mind at once, unfortunately leading him to a total lack of action. He simply stood there, also realizing that he had no weapon with which to fight anyway. Taraq’nok turned around, and Cor could see a faint smile on the necromancer’s face as he motioned toward the other soldier.
“Take off your helm,” he commanded the armored form, who reached up and slid the helm up over its head. Cor recognized him; he had seen this man underneath Taraq’nok’s library. He was about Cor’s age and of similar height, with the dark hair of a Westerner. There was no ignoring the man’s deathly pallor, but his eyes were glazed over and unseeing.
“Taraq’nok, you would have me believe that this walking corpse is the Dahken?” the emperor’s voice boomed with anger.
“Yes, Sovereign,” Taraq’nok said, turning back to the emperor. “I have slain him and raised him as a gift to you Sovereign. He has several most unfortunate wounds under the armor, but he is completely functional.”
“Lord Menak, is this the man you saw?” the emperor asked.
Menak stared at the armored figure for a long moment and cut his eyes at Taraq’nok, something the emperor could not have seen as Menak’s back was to him, before answering. “Yes, Sovereign.”
“Very well. Lord Taraq’nok, your gift is accepted, but in the future simply bringing the Dahken’s head would be just as appreciated.”
Cor followed Taraq’nok back to the side room, where the necromancer again drew the complex symbols surrounded by a circle on the floor. Cor said nothing and simply waited, though it appeared they were alone, until he had completed the spell, and they arrived back in the library. Cor immediately kicked his full weight right into the Loszian’s back, knocking Taraq’nok sprawling across the floor. The steward immediately stepped forward and Thyss, who had apparently been sitting in the library with her legs casually crossed over each other on a table, jumped to her feet.
“Damn you Loszian!” Cor shouted. “You didn’t think I would recognize that man? Why did you kill him?” Cor’s blood boiled, and his palms itched for Soulmourn and Ebonwing.
“What would you have me do, Dahken Cor?” Taraq’nok asked as he sat up. “I had to present a dead Dahken to the emperor. I could have easily presented a live one in you. Then you would be dead; would that have been preferable to you?”
“You didn’t have to kill him!” Cor raged.
“Didn’t I? What else could I have done? If I had given him to the emperor alive, he would have corroborated Menak’s story, and he would be killed anyway. Think Cor, and you will realize it was unavoidable without killing you instead.”
“It is not even yet noon,” Cor said, slowing his breath. “Thyss and I leave at noon to find Lord Dahken Noth, and I expect we’ll be back in a week. When I return, I want those bars removed from the cages and every person down there restored. I want them made comfortable, especially the children. Do what you have to do.” Cor stormed from the library, collecting Soulmourn and Ebonwing on his way out.
32.
Cor fumed in the small yard outside the castle, furious at the Loszian, and he swore to himself it would be the last time this man pushed him. Cor hadn’t been outside yet this morning, and it was a miserable autumn day, rainy and cold. His breath came in small white plumes, and he stood in the cold black armor with his helm in his hands, allowing the rain to freely splash his face and the chain mail cowl. It seemed foolish to stand outside in the weather, but the damp cold helped calm his temper and focus his mind.
After a few minutes, Thyss joined him outside clothed in her usual garb and her curved sword strapped to her back. She hissed between her teeth, a sound Cor had come to associate with her displeasure, as she looked upwards with obvious disgust at the falling rain. Thyss closed her eyes briefly, and when she opened them, Cor could see that she was totally dry. As the rain continued to fall on her skin, hair and clothes, it sizzled away as if on a frying pan over a hot fire.
“Useful,” Cor said.
“I cannot wait to stretch my legs,” she said. “I’ve been cooped up too long. There is nothing in this castle to interest me.”
“Until I showed up?” he asked, seeing that slight smile he had become accustomed to. “Why are you here?”
“I just told you; I need to do something other than read moldy books and stare at black walls.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he said, uncertain how to phrase the question. “I know something of Dulkur, and you would be someone of import there. You have all of the physical aspects of the ruling class, and the power of the elements runs through you. Taraq’nok introduced you as Lady Thyss.”
She turned to meet his eyes, and Cor swore he could see fire burning in her pupils as she spoke, “A life of luxury, spending every day lying on satin cushions while strong naked men with beautiful ebony skin feed me exotic fruits stolen from the villages of the masses. Wearing gold and jewels to exemplify my wealth and power over people with no hope. A different lover every night, or even every hour if that’s what I want. An existence with no passion, no fear, no excitement. All order and no chaos. Decadence and no risk. Hykan damn it.
“I go where I will and do as I will when I will,” she said, raising her voice to the heavens. “I create enemies only to slaughter them and bathe in their blood, should I so desire. I shall challenge the tallest, strongest peak with my blade and force it to submit to me. I bow to no kings, no queens, and challenge even the stars themselves to shine brighter than I. I shall force the chaos of entropy upon the world and laugh as those who would rule struggle vainly to contain it. I live for my own desires, here and now, for as long as I live, and no one shall take that from me, lest they take my life!”
Cor stared at this woman in amazement, and for the first time in his life, truly understood himself. His entire life, forces across the continent had tried to make him as they would have him. Even Rael, the Dahken who taught Cor how to use his power and strength, had attempted to mold Cor into a shape that he would prefer. Cor looked upward into the falling rain, and vowed that no longer would he allow any to seek his destiny for him, and nor would he determine another’s except by his sword. Cor turned and kissed Thyss, embracing her with his steel clad arms and crushing her body to his. She fought against him, her body rigid and almost as strong as his, but she returned the kiss with no less ferocity.
* * *
The trip deeper into Losz was uneventful, though the weather stayed miserable well into the next day as a cold, driving rain beat itself on them. Ignoring Wrelk completely, Cor and Thyss took to bedding down together, as much to share her warmth as any other reason. Even after the rain stopped, the air kept its chill as winter was approaching, and Cor wondered somewhat if there would be early snows this season. They had seen a few other travelers, but always in the distance, and none of them ever turned to intercept the trio, paying mind to their own business. While the countryside itself was very similar to Aquis, Cor noticed that Losz clearly lacked the large number of villages and independent farms found in the Shining West, doubtless due to the empire’s social structure.
Starting the third morning, they eased their pace somewhat, Wrelk declaring that they weren’t far from the crater and that it would be better to allow the horses a slower pace now. There would be nothing safe for them to eat or drink within several miles of the crater, and it would be best to conserve their energy. The walking pace tore at Cor’s patience; the less miles between himself and their destination, the harder he felt the unseen force pull
at his blood. He felt like a piece of iron affected by a massive lodestone, and it made him extremely excitable.
Cor estimated that they had crossed nearly two hundred miles since leaving Taraq’nok’s castle, and the landscape had changed somewhat. The slightly rolling hills and prairies with tall grass and wild fruit trees had given way to scraggly shrubs, weeds and crabgrass. The very ground itself seemed less lush, harder and drier, the closer they traveled to the meteor. It was shortly before noon when they reached a point where Wrelk would go no further.
“The meteor is about two miles that way,” he said, pointing slightly north of east. “I and the horses will stay here. I will not risk them or myself any further on this errand.”
Cor shrugged and dismounted his horse, giving instructions for Wrelk to wait two days; if he didn’t come back by then, he was not going to. He checked his gear, also making certain he had an ample supply of fresh water and some dried meat. Cor pet Kelli’s forehead and fed her a sugar cube before turning to leave; he found Thyss standing impatiently in front of him.
“You are coming, then?” he asked her.
“I am certainly not staying here with him for two days,” she answered, lifting her chin towards Wrelk.
Cor began walking at a quick pace in the direction indicated, and Thyss fell into step next to him. They had not even covered a mile when most of the foliage had disappeared; there were no trees or shrubs of any kind, and the grass had given way to intertwined vine like weeds and moss. Cor had not seen any signs of animals at all since the previous day, and he doubted Taraq’nok’s claims of unnatural creatures. They ventured up a sloping incline, which seemed to have a vague familiarity to Cor, and stopped upon reaching the top.
Cor removed his helm and dropped it on the ground to get a more thorough view of the landscape that lay before them, feeling a very complete sense that he had been before, but at a different point in time. They stood looking down a wide track that was completely devoid of any plant life at all. Weather had changed it substantially over nearly three thousand years, but Cor could still make out a slight depression nearly a mile wide that narrowed at the far end of the track as it made its way deeper into the ground. It stopped quite suddenly in a deep crater.
“Where do we go from here?” Thyss asked.
“I’m not sure,” Cor said, surveying the land. “I was here once before, and I climbed a grassy hill to see this same stretch of land, but it was more of a trench with upturned dirt and small trees that were on fire. When I went back down the hill, I was in the midst of the ruins, and I fell into the catacombs on accident.”
“I saw no ruins before we came up this hill. I would not think they would disappear even after three thousand years.” Thyss said.
“No,” he said, squatting down on his haunches, “something is not right. I don’t think we are in the exact spot that I stood in the dream.”
Cor stood up and began walking south along the hilltop, which he realized was a sort of ridgeline. As he walked, he kept his eyes on the ancient trench dug by the meteor, watching for when his perspective matched what he recalled from the first dream nearly ten years ago. Thyss simply stood, watched and waited. Cor’s foot suddenly hit something with a hard thud, and he sprawled face first to the ground, barely throwing his hands up in time to catch himself. He was uninjured physically, though he looked sheepishly at the hard mound he had apparently tripped over. Cor looked up to see Thyss jogging over to him slowly; he had walked several hundred feet without realizing it. He sat up and began scraping away hard packed dirt, weeds and moss to find a large rectangular gray stone, well weathered and half buried in the ground.
“This came from the tower,” Cor said, looking up at Thyss. “The entire building was made of stone blocks just like this one. It must be nearby.”
“Then let’s find it quickly. This place is beginning to unnerve me, and try watching where you walk from now on.”
Cor closed his eyes and attempted to clear his mind, focusing on the sensation that had been building in his veins and arteries for days, if not months. He was right on top of it; of this, he had no doubt, but he just couldn’t seem to find the place. He stood up and again surveyed where the meteor impacted, and then he turned his back to it looking west. The slope back down the hill was less smooth here, as if the weeds and moss had overgrown numerous objects. Cor’s gaze followed down the slope, and at the bottom he saw a tangled mess of weeds and scraggly growth that seemed to be obscuring shapes he could not clearly make out.
“This is it,” he said and immediately started down the hill.
“How did we not see it before?” Thyss asked, and he heard her start down the hill behind him.
Cor didn’t answer the question; he didn’t actually know, but the answer became apparent the further down the hill they went. The site was obscured from view on all sides by other hills, and one would likely only see it if standing directly above it. The slope was somewhat treacherous, as it was a bit steeper than the path up had been, and the plant growth here was comprised of short tangled weeds that threatened to trip those who made a careless step.
Cor stopped when he reached the bottom of the hill, looking around carefully and trying to envision the ruins he saw in his dream, but he could barely see the outlines of crumbled walls and piles of rubble under the foliage. Cor did not move into the ruin; he remembered crashing through some kind of wood planking, perhaps a trap door, and this time he had no mattress to break his fall. He walked to the north side of the ruin, looking for the remains of a stone spiral stair, and he found a large pile of weather beaten rubble, grown over with moss. Seeing no other likely options, Cor asked Thyss to stand next to it, as he walked back to his starting point and took a circuitous route to the south side of the ruin. After a few minutes, he found the remains of three stone steps; while they were only two feet high and covered in weeds, Cor was certain he’d found the second staircase.
“The entrance into the catacombs should be right between us,” Cor shouted; it was partially from excitement, but also because the wind seemed to whip coldly through this slight depression.
They walked towards each other and closed the distance quickly at first; as they neared each other, they walked more slowly and watched the ground intently for any sign of the entrance. They stopped nearly ten feet away from each other, and Cor drew Soulmourn. He moved slowly towards Thyss, thrusting the sword into the ground every few inches. He had gone several feet when the sword met no resistance, passing right through the weeds without striking anything solid. If Cor hadn’t been looking for exactly such an effect, he likely would have lost his balance. He sheathed his sword, and the pair dropped to their hands and knees, clearing away the weeds with small knives until they had defined a mouth that was roughly four feet square. The noon sunlight shined down into a room below, showing a dust caked floor less than twenty feet below them.
“I fell through some sort of trap door. It must have rotted away hundreds of years ago,” Cor reasoned.
Thyss found a small piece of wall nearby that was still mortared together and kicked at its foundation several times. Satisfied that it was solid, she uncoiled a rope that she tied around the wall and then threw down into the open maw. Cor felt the rope for a moment and looked at Thyss doubtfully. It was made of the same black silk as her clothing with slivers of silver running through its threads.
“Are you sure this will hold me?” he asked, eyeing the silk rope.
“Would you like to again try ripping the clothes from my body?” she asked by way of reply, laughing deeply at the look he gave her.
Cor really had no idea what he was doing, and he was sure that he couldn’t grip the thin cord well enough to lower himself to the ground below. He removed his gauntlets for a better grip on the smooth, thin cord and wound it twice around his armored right arm in the hopes that he could control the speed of his descent. It crossed his mind that he would still have to get back up the rope, but he knew he needed to focus on one problem
at a time. Gripping the rope tightly in both hands, Cor slowly lowered himself over the edge and fell like a stone. Fortunately, the distance was short, and at the last moment he figured out how to control the fall very slightly. If it hadn’t been for these two facts, he might have broken both of his legs on impact; instead, he crumpled into a heap of black steel armor with a huge plume of dust.
Cor had gotten to his hands and knees and was coughing heavily when Thyss landed lithely next to him, having slithered easily down the rope. The dust had triggered a painful attack, and he could feel things moving in his chest every time he was wracked with a cough. Thyss found a torch nearby and lit it ablaze with her fingertip while waiting for Cor’s coughing to subside, which took several minutes. Finally he stood, hacking a glob of blood streaked phlegm to the floor.
“What was that about?” she asked him.
“It is something the Dahken live with, though I’m not sure why. Sometimes it just happens.”
As he looked around, Cor’s mind superimposed his memory of the dream onto what his eyes saw. He could see the torches lit and billowing smoke, even though they were dead and covered with dust. The crypts themselves looked the same though somehow older, and now he could read the names of the Dahken whose glyphs were inscribed on the doors of their tombs. Cor knew precisely where he was and immediately set off down the lane between the crypts, again drawn by some force that made his blood now feel as if on fire. Thyss followed, using her abilities to light a torch every so often, further lighting the catacomb.
In his dream, Cor had walked seemingly forever between never ending rows of crypts before they disappeared entirely, and he had to walk with no sense of time or direction before reaching a stone wall. In reality, the pair passed about a dozen crypts, having walked not even two hundred feet. The wall was in fact natural, part of a cave that had been smoothed by human hands, and a heavy wooden door stood directly in front of him. Cor could now read the glyphs on the door, when years ago he could not decipher the name.
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