The Sword Of Angels eog-3

by John Marco

  But in his heart he knew the truth, and that was why he had made his decision. Lukien fingered the amulet beneath his shirt, touching its smooth gold and feeling the heat from its throbbing ruby. Because of the Eye he had survived against the rass that killed Jahan. Because of the Eye, he was immortal. But the artifact had done nothing to help him find the Sword of Angels, and the strange god within its metal remained silent and unhelpful, leaving Lukien to search like a blind man for the sword. For that, Lukien hated Amaraz more than ever. He would not miss the obstinate god at all.

  At last Lahkali came to a stop. She turned to Karoshin, and the two shared a knowing look. Lukien quickly caught up with them. The land had flattened a bit, leaving a small trail winding up ahead. Above them lay a ridge, but beyond that Lukien could not see. At their feet the rivers of melting snow ran fast, swelled by the rains that had finally slowed to a stubborn mist. Niharn seemed to know why they had stopped. His face slackened. Lukien looked at him, then to Lahkali, who nodded at him.

  ‘This is as far as any of you may come,’ she said. Her voice remained remarkably steady. The katath in her hand did not tremble at all, yet in her eyes Lukien caught a faint hint of dread. ‘Stay here. Wait for me.’

  ‘We will wait, Lahkali,’ Karoshin promised. ‘We’ll be the first to see the river turn. It will be wonderful.’

  Niharn was rueful. ‘Eminence, do not forget to drink the blood.’

  Lahkali nodded. ‘Of course.’

  ‘Quickly, though,’ added Niharn. ‘Don’t wait. Drink the moment the rass is dead.’

  ‘I know,’ said Lahkali impatiently. It was very unlikely she would ever get the chance to drink the serpent’s blood, and being reminded seemed to irk her. ‘If I can, I will.’

  ‘You will,’ said Karoshin. ‘Just do not forget.’

  Lahkali looked up into the sky, toward the spirit-like clouds still spinning around the mountain’s pinnacle. They had all climbed so far, yet the clouds still remained tantalizingly out of reach. Lukien was grateful that the climb had finally ended. Much further and the cold would have made the trek more difficult.

  ‘How much higher?’ he asked.

  Lahkali pointed to the ridge. ‘Just up there.’

  ‘How do you know the rass is there?’

  ‘Because the Great Rass is always there,’ said Karoshin with reverence. ‘That is its lair.’

  The statement chilled Lukien. He craned his neck for a better view, but the ridge remained mostly out of sight, without the slightest hint of the rass. He paused, wondering how he should say good-bye to Lahkali or present his gift to her. He needed to prepare himself, yet the end had come so quickly.

  ‘Rest first,’ suggested Niharn. He glanced around for somewhere they could sit. ‘I’ll make a place for you, Eminence.’

  Lahkali shook her head. ‘I don’t want to wait, Master. Now is the time.’ She smiled at Niharn. ‘Thank you for what you’ve done for me. I hope I was a worthy student.’

  Master Niharn bowed, keeping his eyes to the ground. ‘An old man has few such honours, Eminence.’

  Next was Karoshin, who smiled warmly at Lahkali. Instead of bowing, he embraced her, kissing both of her cheeks. ‘Remember,’ he said as he traced his finger over her tattoo. ‘You are the Red Eminence.’

  Lahkali nodded, filled with emotion. She croaked a simple thank you to the priest, then turned finally to Lukien. Her pretty eyes sparkled.

  ‘Lukien, I don’t know what I can say to thank you,’ she told him. ‘You were a stranger. And now you are a friend.’

  She was so young, and so willing to meet death. Lukien admired her.

  ‘Wait,’ he said. ‘I have something you’ll need.’

  Reaching beneath his water-logged shirt, he pulled out the Eye of God. The others inhaled when they saw it, dazzled by its shining light. Lahkali shrugged, confused, studying the amulet spinning on its chain.

  ‘Your amulet? I don’t-’ Then she gasped, understanding. ‘Lukien, no.’

  ‘It’s the only way,’ said Lukien. ‘You can’t defeat the rass without it, Lahkali. You know it. We all know it.’

  Lahkali looked him in the eye. ‘You’ll die without it.’

  ‘Maybe.’ Lukien shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I’ve never taken it off before.’

  ‘You do know,’ Lahkali argued. ‘I can’t let you give it to me.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter if I die,’ said Lukien. He gave a pleading smile. ‘I haven’t found the Sword of Angels, Lahkali. I’ve failed. And I’m tired. But if you fail then everyone else will die. The land will suffer and all of you will starve. You told me so yourself.’ Still keeping the chain around his neck, he reached out for the girl’s hand and placed it against the amulet. ‘Please. . let me do this.’

  Lahkali angrily drew back. ‘No! I know what you’re doing, Lukien. You want to die. Jahan told me about your woman. You want to see her again.’

  ‘And what if I do?’ Lukien laughed. ‘Don’t I deserve it? Haven’t I served enough gods and their whims? If I die I won’t regret it, Lahkali. I’ll have served you and your people and can go to death in peace.’

  ‘Lukien, think a moment,’ said Karoshin. ‘What about your friends back across the desert? What will happen to them?’

  ‘They don’t need me, Karoshin. I’ve already failed them. Without the sword there’s nothing I can do, and I can’t find the sword.’ Lukien spoke gently to Lahkali. ‘Eminence, I was wrong about you. I thought if I helped you I could get you to break your vow and tell me where the sword is hidden. I’m sorry. You are made of much stronger stuff! I’m ashamed I even thought it of you. I’m not giving you this amulet for any other reason but to help you. I don’t want a reward. You’re right — by the time you come back I’ll probably be dead.’

  ‘And that’s what you want?’ asked Lahkali breathlessly. She was near tears now, her tall, strong wall finally crumbling. ‘To die?’

  Lukien grinned. ‘No man wants to die, Eminence. But it’s been so long since I’ve really lived. And I’m so tired of being alone.’ Again he took her hand, gently placing it atop his amulet. ‘I want you to take it. .’

  A thunder clap shook Lukien’s mind. He staggered back, stunned, as an angry voice cried out in his head, splitting his skull in rage. Through his one good eye he saw Lahkali and the others staring at him. Lahkali was speaking, asking if he was all right. Lukien tried to keep his footing, but all at once he felt his body being lifted. The world turned orange, then a bright, sweeping white. Blinded by the glow, Lukien shouted, suddenly realizing he was being taken away. The violence of the light tore at him. His ears roared with noise, and for a moment he felt his insides coiling with pressure, as if a great, unseen fist had snatched him to carry him away. The others were gone, and all he could see was the rushing tides of light and wind, swirling up around him and pulling at his skin. He was flying now, up and into the great spreading light of his amulet.

  Then, the noise ended. Lukien felt the ground turn firm beneath him. The light faded. He looked around in awe of his surroundings, remembering the place. Overhead was a ceiling, gigantic and soaring, with spirits in the rafters, looking down on him. The floor was stone, polished and smooth, the walls of the place alabaster. Lights and shadows mingled through the air. Lukien squinted to see ahead of him, bracing himself for what he knew he would see.

  Out of the light formed a towering figure. Eyes of fire stared at Lukien from the ancient face. He was not a man but a deity, alive but long dead, with smoke for fingers and a chorus of lesser angels at his sides. He stood but had no legs, for light and mists obscured him, and when he rose up to his full height the spirits in the rafters fled. He was Amaraz, the spirit of the Eye. And when he spoke it was like storm.

  ‘You’re giving me away,’ he bellowed, staring straight at Lukien through the haze. ‘All my power and magic. To a girl.’

  Lukien stood his ground, secretly delighted to at last be facing the Akari. ‘So I have your attention!’ he crowed. ‘I sh
ould have known you’d try to stop me. What took so long, monster?’

  Amaraz, friend to Minikin, looked puzzled and angry both. His enormous face floated closer to Lukien. ‘The Eye of God belongs to you, but it is not yours to give away.’

  ‘Oh, but it is,’ said Lukien. ‘It belongs to me, and as long as I give it willingly your power goes with it. You see, Amaraz? I remember all your little tricks. It’s time for you to protect someone else now, someone who needs your help.’

  ‘Do not give her the amulet,’ Amaraz warned, shaking the walls around him. ‘You are not done yet.’

  ‘You mean you’re not done with me, don’t you? Sorry, Amaraz, but I’m done being your pawn.’

  ‘The Devil’s Armour still lives in your world!’ thundered Amaraz. ‘You must defeat it, and the demon who dwells inside it.’

  ‘Yes, well, that would be very nice,’ Lukien hissed, ‘except that I have no idea how to find the Sword of Angels, and you’re not helping me find it, are you?’

  The great Akari looked regretful. ‘You do not understand. Do you not remember? I said there is a way to defeat the armour, and so there is — you have only to find it.’

  ‘How convenient for you,’ snarled Lukien. ‘Yes, that’s very helpful, knowing there’s a weapon but not knowing where to find it. You sent me here to the Serpent Kingdom. Tell me where to find the Sword of Angels!’

  ‘I cannot,’ said the spirit. His face shifted colours. ‘It is yours to find, your destiny alone.’

  The answer made Lukien irate. ‘Do you see why I hate you? You are a cruel and terrible master, Amaraz, and I’m done with you. Lahkali needs your help to save her people. You’re going to have a new host for a while. Get used to the idea.’

  ‘I will not allow it,’ said Amaraz.

  ‘You have no choice! I wear the amulet. It’s the one thing I have control over in my life. I wear it or I don’t wear it. You can’t stop me from taking it off.’

  ‘And when you die, how will you help Baron Glass and the others? Have you thought of that?’

  ‘I won’t help them,’ said Lukien. ‘I haven’t been any help at all to them. They won’t miss me.’ He stepped back from the spirit’s fiery face. ‘Now, send me back.’

  For all his great power, Amaraz could not change Lukien’s mind. His expression soured to remorse. ‘You are not done yet,’ he said.

  ‘I don’t care. I don’t want to be a slave any longer. Send me back, Amaraz. Now.’

  The great face turned away, and as it did Lukien felt the rush of wind and light again. Closing his eye, he waited for the magic to carry him back. This time, the wind was gentler, like the melancholy breath of Amaraz himself, and when at last he felt the ground reappear beneath his feet Lukien looked to see Lahkali just as he had left her. She was staring at him.

  ‘Lukien? Are you all right?’

  Lukien glanced at each of their faces, seeing the same amazement in them all.

  ‘What happened?’ asked Karoshin. ‘You were here, and then you were not, but only for a moment.’

  ‘Like you were asleep,’ said Lahkali. Her face was troubled. ‘Lukien?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ said Lukien. He was still holding out the Eye of God. ‘Take it,’ he told Lahkali. ‘I know it will work for you.’

  46

  On the ridge below the peak of the mountain, a thousand years of wind and rain had carved catacombs into the rock. The ever-melting snow, dripping down from what seemed like the roof of the world, became gushing rivers in the rainy days of Spring, flooding the caves and turning ground loose and dangerous. Of all the countless, meandering catacombs, one stood out importantly from the rest, larger and grander than its ugly siblings, its mouth filled with tooth-like stalactites, its dark recesses thick with rolling mist. Just beyond its holy threshold, the world outside disappeared, devoured by the sounds of water and the hiss of rumbling vapour.

  Lahkali entered the cavern knowing it was the one. There was no premonition in the decision. It was simply as Karoshin had described it — magnificent and unmistakable. As she crossed the ridge and stepped inside, she felt the warm breeze of unseen fires strike her face. The cavern glistened with green light, the incandescence of countless gemstones glowing in the rock. Along the ground rushed a torrent of water, higher than Lahkali’s ankles. Beneath it, her feet shuffled carefully across the gravelly floor. In both hands she held the katath out before her. The weapon trembled in her grip. She scanned the cavern without blinking. Her wide eyes caught every nuance of the place.

  Beneath her rain-soaked gown of scarlet, the Eye of God pulsed against her chest. Looking down, she could see its red jewel behind the wet silk. She paused, trying to feel its unnatural power. The ruby burned against her skin, but that was all. Confused, she touched it with her hand, trying to summon the great god within its gold. Lukien had told her it would keep her safe, but Lahkali felt nothing, and now the warning the Bronze Knight had given came back to her quickly.

  ‘You may feel nothing,’ Lukien had told her. ‘But when you need him, Amaraz will strengthen you.’

  He had placed the amulet around her neck with his own hands, divesting himself of its power with an odd smile on his face. Together they had stared at each other, and Lahkali had watched the pain on his face as the old wounds crept back to claim him. Within minutes, he had been almost unable to stand.

  ‘Go,’ he had urged her. And she had. She had left him, and whether or not Lukien still lived Lahkali did not know. With tears in her eyes she had climbed the ridge, leaving him and the others behind to find the Great Rass. Now, touching the amulet, Lukien’s kindness overwhelmed her.

  ‘I’m here,’ she told the spirit inside the Eye. ‘Can you hear me?’

  Her whisper echoed through the green haze, but the spirit of the amulet did not reply. Lahkali licked her lips. Her people were well-accustomed to spirits. It was a secret she had never shared with Lukien, or any other outsider. Because she herself had spoken to the dead, the thought of communing with the amulet’s ghost did not frighten her. Rather, she was surprised not to hear its voice, not even silently, within her soul.

  ‘Lukien tells me you are a great being,’ she whispered, hoping to coax the spirit’s trust. ‘I need your help now, Amaraz. I know you’re angry with Lukien, but he did what he thought was right. Will you help me, Amaraz?’

  Amaraz did not reply. His silence unnerved Lahkali. She peered deeper into the haze, looking beyond the gems that twinkled along the rock walls. Beyond the mist was darkness, and from the darkness came the heat, like the breath of a dragon, striking Lahkali’s face. She held tightly to the amulet, trying to glean some strength from it.

  ‘I know you’re inside,’ she whispered. ‘I know you are with me. The spirits of all my people are with me, too, Amaraz. I speak to them in the garden. Do you know that? Have you seen?’

  She supposed there really were no secrets from a god like Amaraz, but if he had ever seen her in the story garden, he clearly had never told Lukien. She wondered why the spirit was so silent, not only to her but to Lukien as well. Her feet were leaden as she considered going further.

  ‘Protect me, Amaraz,’ she asked. ‘I have to do this thing.’

  Lukien felt the cold water running against his back, cooling the wound that bloomed like magic between his shoulders. The mud of the earth took away some of the pain, but the pain 9/14/2010was growing now, coiling around him like the fingers of a giant. Fighting to control his shallow breathing, he imagined himself in a very different place, away from the cold rains of the mountain, back in the warm sands around Jador. He imagined the peace of the desert, and his heartbeat managed to slow. Overhead, he saw the troubled eyes of Karoshin, looking down over him the way a mother might a sick child. Next to the priest, Niharn knelt in the mud, staring peculiarly at Lukien. Niharn could not understand, but the sacrifice seemed to impress him. He nodded as Karoshin spoke, trying to comfort Lukien.

  ‘. . as soon as it is done. When you have the amulet back
you will be well again, you’ll see.’

  Lukien only half heard Karoshin. The intensity of the wound on his back made listening difficult. He gulped the air, but somehow getting enough was impossible. He dug his fingers into the ground, feeling his nails scrape the stones. He was not afraid of dying, but death had not come the way he had supposed. He remembered now how Cassandra had died. Once the spell of the amulet was broken, her cancer had devoured her. Like an inferno, it consumed her. Lukien closed his eyes, searching for what had gone wrong. The wound along his back had been given to him by Trager. They had battled on a mountaintop and Lukien had won, cutting off his enemy’s head and tossing it over the cliff side, but not before taking a mortal blow. Trager’s blade had cut him deep, and when he collapsed Lukien had thought it would be his end, but then he had awoken, alive, with the Eye of God around his neck.

  ‘What’s happening?’ he heard Niharn whisper. ‘Why is he still alive?’

  Karoshin shook his head. ‘Lukien,’ he asked gently. ‘Is this right? Should it be this way?’

  Lukien managed to raise his head, but Karoshin set it back down. ‘No,’ said the priest. ‘Lay still. I’m sorry. Do not speak.’

  Lukien grabbed his knee and dug his fingers into Karoshin’s flesh. ‘The spell,’ he choked. ‘The spell.’

  Karoshin did not understand. ‘All right,’ he whispered.

  ‘Breaking the spell killed Cassandra,’ Lukien went on. ‘That’s it.’

  In his frantic state of mind, he could think of no other answer. Though he no longer wore the Eye of God, the spell that had long protected him had not really been broken, the way it had with Cassandra. He had merely given the Eye away.