Murtag shoved the collar around Alderan’s neck and nodded. Several orcs grabbed Prince Rictar and hauled him to his feet.
Pravus took a deep breath and steepled his fingers.
Despite the death of Käíeƨ, this day could hardly get better. Save Cyrus’s and Cinolth’s deaths.
† † †
Aria paced the King’s Palace rooftop. Sixteen men and women lay dead. Each had tried to end her life. Had they known who she was, they would’ve thought better of such fateful moves.
King Zaridus stood at the railing and watched the Three Kingdoms burn. “Why are you doing this? What have I or any of the people you killed done to you?” He turned and faced her. Blood crusted over the two gashes across his cheeks.
Aria stopped pacing and glared at him. “Do you think the Ancient Realm is unaware of your treatment of the zhifʈäd? Every year you’ve reigned over the realm has brought my kind farther down. We will not be oppressed any longer.”
King Zaridus stared at his hands for several moments. “I admit that your kind—those who possess mezhik that is—have not been welcome in my kingdom for quite some time. But I have good reason for it.”
Aria flicked her finger downward and the king yelped. The back of his right ear fell off. Fresh blood ran down his neck and colored his silver hair brown. “There is no excuse for your actions. Furthermore, you utter another word, and I will remove your tongue. Understood?” The old man nodded. He’d aged ten years in the last fifteen minutes.
Aria returned to pacing and reached out to Cinolth with her mind. “The king is in my possession. Come back at once.”
“I am pursuing his daughter. No heir shall be left alive.”
Aria stomped her foot. “She means nothing and holds no power over the people. Return at once so we can hang Zaridus from his own palace.”
“You forget your place, young one. You serve me, not the other way around.”
Aria sighed through her nose. “I remember. We will await your return.”
Cinolth severed the connection.
Aria moved over to the railing and peered down at the burning city. A procession of soldiers and orcs climbed the steep road far below. Pravus had arrived. Nothing he did could compare to what she’d accomplished on her own. She’d gloat when he joined her on the rooftop.
Who’s the god now?
Chapter Fifty-One
The tick-tick-tick of claws on stone frayed Berggren’s nerves. Had he been alone, he would’ve fought his way out of the temple and Borza, but it wasn’t only his life in his hands. Niesha had become a second daughter to him. As with Theyn, he’d give his life to save Niesha’s.
The catacombs underneath the temple had been a great place to hide right up until three gnolls entered the large space. Poorly lit, Berggren couldn’t see anything going on through the cracked lid of the sarcophagus he lay in. Because of his size, he had to put Niesha in a sarcophagus of her own. It was the last thing he wanted to do, but he’d had no choice. Thankfully, she lay in one fifteen feet above the catacomb floor. The gnolls would have to climb to get to her, and he’d be ready to spring from his sarcophagus at a moment’s notice.
Every noise sent his pulse racing faster, and with it came beads of perspiration. Even if the gnolls didn’t hear him breathing heavy, they’d surely smell his sweat.
Stone slid on stone. A jarring, scraping noise.
A man whimpered, “Please, no. I am a priest of Ƨin.”
“Then you shouldn’t fear death,” said a gruff and gravelly voice. Berggren couldn’t tell if it belonged to a male or female.
The man screamed, but it lasted only moments.
Thwack!
The sick, wet sound rattled Berggren. The walls of the sarcophagus closed in on him, and each breath became more ragged. Somehow, they’d sucked the air from his confined space. His lungs burned. He needed to get out, the consequences be damned.
Through the crack, he saw an opening. One of the gnolls stood close. He could crush the beast’s head with the sarcophagus lid. Not knowing where the other two gnolls stood, his plan could backfire quickly, but if he waited much longer his opportunity might be lost. Weighing the odds, and verging on a claustrophobic attack, he made his decision.
Palms against the underside of the lid, Berggren started to lift it away from the vessel. But the damned thing seemed to be stuck on something. He grunted, and the gnoll reacted, but not to him. Someone else had entered the catacombs.
† † †
Theyn’s plan had worked flawlessly right up to the moment she’d entered the catacombs beneath the temple. With so much chaos in the city above, none of the gnolls had given her a second glance. To them, she was just a large cat on the prowl looking for its next meal.
Now, she faced three gnolls who worked their way through the catacombs to surround her. Why they hadn’t ignored her like the others left her a bit confused. She stalked forward, hoping her boldness would give them pause.
Berggren’s scent permeated the air. She hoped she hadn’t arrived too late. The largest of the gnolls stepped in front of her, blocking her path. She halted but didn’t back away. Given that the other two gnolls were behind her, it would’ve done her little good anyway.
The gnoll before her, the obvious leader of the pack, rose on his hind legs and towered over Theyn. He cocked his head and sniffed the air. “My, my, my. You’re not what you seem, are you?”
Theyn growled deep in her chest and hunkered down like she might attack.
“You’re fooling no one with that act.” He knelt and smiled at her, or at least that’s what she assumed he attempted to do. The only thing it really accomplished was baring his sharp, yellowed teeth. “The name’s Karraar. What’s yours?”
She knew there was little point in hiding her identity, but she still hadn’t figured out how to talk while in her cat form. She reached within herself and opened the black box in her mind. It took great effort to shed her fur and stuff the beast back into the box, but she managed to do so.
Theyn stood, arched her back, and shook out her hair. “I’m Theyn.”
Karraar rose again, towering over her by several feet. “I’ve heard tales of shifters, but I admit you’re the first I’ve ever met.”
Theyn crossed her arms. “What gave me away?”
“Your scent.” Karraar leaned down and sniffed her again. “Not quite human, but definitely not a beast.”
“I wanna spill her blood and see what she tastes like,” said one of the other gnolls. His voice sounded far more twisted and stranger than Karraar’s.
“Theyn, where are you?” Nardus’s voice in her head startled her.
“Beneath the temple,” she replied through mindspeak. “Hurry.”
Karraar stepped back and grinned deviously. “I think you underestimate this shifter, Qordak, but I’m willing to let you have a go with her.”
Theyn heard Qordak’s claws dig into the stone floor. She quickly dove and rolled to her left. The beast narrowly missed taking off her head with his claws.
She drew her sword from its scabbard. The ring of steel echoed through the catacombs. Qordak came at her again, this time with a battle axe drawn. She blocked his blow with her sword, but his strength and weight took her to her knees. His devilish yellow eyes churned with hate as he leaned close. The smell of rancid meat on his breath warmed her face and almost gagged her.
Theyn needed more strength to have a chance against Qordak. She rolled away and called upon the beast within as she did so. She gained traction and lunged forward, claws extended. Qordak had only been half prepared for her attack and swung his axe wide. Its handle cracked her right in the ribs but didn’t knock her away. She dug her claws into his sides and went for his throat. His other fist hammered the side of her head but not before her teeth gained purchase of his throat. She bit down with all her strength and tore out his throat even as her head whipped to the side.
Qordak fell backward, and
she went with him. Her vision teetered on darkness but giving in to it would be her death. She spat the chunk of fur and flesh from her mouth and tried to shake off the blow, but the catacombs spun around her.
Crack!
Theyn and Karraar both turned toward the third gnoll. A female, given her shape and enlarged breasts. She dropped to her knees as stone crumbled and crashed around her. Her neck bulged. Blood poured from her mouth as she fell face-first onto the floor. Berggren stood in her wake, half a sarcophagus lid still clutched in his hands.
Karraar roared and lunged at Theyn, his weapon high over his head.
† † †
Borza had two temples, one at the center of the city and the other to the south, close to the Orbis Mountains. Nardus went to the one to the south first but found no passage that led beneath it. However, he did find a pack of gnolls stalking the temple followers who’d sought refuge within its walls. By the time he left, the temple walls glistened with crimson streaks. Not a single gnoll still stood.
Moments after he’d entered the second temple, a loud crash sounded behind the altar curtain. Nardus streaked through the temple like a wraith and shot down the circular stairwell in a blur. Each moment ticked away in slow motion, but Nardus still moved at full speed.
Ahead and to the right, Berggren held some large stone in his hands, a yell still bellowing from his open mouth. A giant gnoll flew through the air to the left, his battle axe raised and poised for a killing blow. Nardus didn’t see Theyn but knew she must be the target of the gnoll’s strike. Two blasts of air shot from Nardus’s extended arms, rippling the surrounding air as they crossed the catacombs. Both met their mark.
Time sped back up as the gnoll flew across the catacombs and crashed into a wall of sarcophagi. Nardus rushed over and grabbed Theyn and teleported her into the middle of the southwestern Orbis Mountains. He laid her down and went back for Berggren. The big man hardly had time to react before they stood in the middle of the forest.
Berggren looked around. “Where’s Niesha?”
Nardus had forgotten about the girl and didn’t remember seeing her in the catacombs. “You tell me.”
“She was hiding in one of the sarcophagi,” he barked. “Any harm comes to her, and it’s on your head.”
Nardus readied his mezhik and teleported back into the catacombs. He hadn’t expected to arrive in the dark, but someone had snuffed out all the torches.
A sinister laugh sounded from behind him. Nardus turned and saw two yellow eyes glowing in the darkness.
“Əllíʈ ʊb!” Three small orbs of light sprang from Nardus’s palm and pushed back the darkness, but not nearly enough.
The glowing eyes were gone, but the tell-tale click of claws alerted him that the gnoll had circled back behind him. Nardus turned, fire in his palm.
“Not so fast, wizard,” snarled the gnoll. He clutched Niesha in his clawed hands.
Niesha struggled against him. “You’ve got bad breath. It’s no wonder you’re so angry.”
“What do you want?” asked Nardus.
“I’ve heard about you,” said the gnoll. “You’re the father of my queen.”
He knows Shanara?
“What of it?”
“Surrender, and I’ll let this sack of bones go.”
“Don’t do it, Nardus. He’s a liar, and a bad one at that,” said Niesha.
Nardus took a step forward. “I have a better idea. You let her go, and I won’t kill you.”
“You may have mezhik, but I’ve got the upper hand,” he snarled. “One little squeeze, and she bursts.”
Another step. “Is death your final decision?”
“Three…” replied the gnoll.
Nardus shook his head. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Two…”
“One!” shouted Nardus.
He released a fireball straight at the gnoll’s chest. Then, with a single thought, he brought time to a stop in the catacombs. Sidestepping the fireball, he retrieved Niesha from the gnoll’s arms. Retreating into the darkness, he released his hold on time. The gnoll’s howl echoed in his ears even as he and Niesha teleported out of the temple and into the forest where he’d dropped off Theyn and Berggren.
Niesha hugged Nardus’s neck and then squirmed out of his arms. She looked up at him, her eyes as big as the moon and her smile stretched to the edges of her face. “That. Was. The. Most. Unbelievable. Thing. I’ve. Ever. Seen!” She thrust her fist in the air and jumped a foot off the ground.
Berggren scowled at Nardus. He returned the look with a shrug. Theyn had shifted back to her human form while he was gone. A massive bruise colored the right side of her face. She winced when he touched it.
With a bit of mezhik, he healed her face. “That’s more like it.” He bent down and kissed her.
Every time he used his mezhik, the loathing of it faded more and more. It made him wonder if he’d begun to lose the man he thought he was. If so, would his feelings for Theyn die as well? And what of Shanara and Shardan? Would his love for them become lost too?
I’ll worry about it once Pravus and Cinolth are dealt with.
He glanced at Berggren and then nodded at Theyn. “Let’s get to the stronghold before nightfall.”
Chapter Fifty-Two
When Pravus arrived on the rooftop of the King’s Palace in Vallah, Aria stood at the far end with her back to him. King Zaridus sat on the floor next to Aria, his silver crown turned upside-down and smashed down on his head. Blood covered his face and soiled his white tunic. Never had Pravus seen a man more dejected.
“Hello, my queen.” Pravus strolled across the rooftop, his head held high.
Aria turned and faced him as he approached. Every last bit of green was gone from her eyes, replaced with a glowing red. “You march in here as though you’ve accomplished something. Have you already forgotten the fact that it was I who built the gateway, and I who took down the water titan? How about the light shield and the wretched king himself?”
Every insulting, venomous word that came out of her mouth came from the mind of Cinolth and the hate he bred within her. Prior to getting her hands on Ƨʈōn Dhef Dädh, she’d been so appreciative of everything he’d done for her. Soon, he’d find a way to rid himself of Cinolth once and for all and take back his wife’s heart.
Pravus steeled his nerves and brushed her words from his shoulders. “I’ve said nothing of the sort. You have done very well, indeed.” He bent down and kissed her cheek. “However, I’ve made some accomplishments as well. Elatos, Borza, and Vallah burn this day because of me. Not only have these accomplishments been mine, but I’ve also captured Prince Rictar and brought your brother to you. What do you say of that?”
“The victory over Elatos was not yours alone, dear husband. And anyone could’ve taken Borza. Nevertheless, I am thrilled you’ve brought my brother here.” She walked over to Alderan and lifted his chin. “Do you finally understand whose side is that of righteousness, or have your delusions not been broken yet?”
Alderan didn’t look Aria in the eye. “The only thing you serve is evil. You’re not my sister, but I believe she’s still inside there somewhere.”
“You’re such a fool, Alderan. You’ve always been.” She let go of his chin. “Evil is in the eye of the beholder. You say our cause is evil, but I assure you that everything King Zaridus stood for served evil purposes. You will witness him hang from the palace walls, along with his traitorous son.”
Pravus turned and motioned to Murtag. “Bring Prince Rictar and the rope.”
Two orcs dragged Prince Rictar over to where King Zaridus sat and shoved him to the floor. They bound both of them with rope and tied nooses around their necks. Then they tied the other end of the ropes to the rooftop railing.
Pravus walked over to Prince Rictar and King Zaridus. Aria joined him.
Pravus addressed King Zaridus. “Because of your arrogance, you will watch your son hang and hear his
neck snap as the rope stretches to its full length.”
“Any last words, Prince Rictar?” asked Aria.
“This is not the end!” yelled Prince Rictar. “The people will revolt. Your reign will be among the shortest ever recorded if anyone bothers to record it at all.”
Aria backhanded Prince Rictar. His face reddened where she struck it. Pravus nodded to Murtag and stepped back. Murtag hauled Prince Rictar to his feet and lifted him onto the railing. Tears streaked down King Zaridus’s face, but he held his tongue.
“Fear not, Father!” Aria shoved Prince Rictar over the railing. “We will see each other again soo—”
The rope pulled taut, and Prince Rictar’s neck snapped.
“No!” cried Alderan. He fell to his knees. “Stop what you’re doing, Aria. I beg of you in the name of Ƨäʈūr.”
“Your god has no power in this world,” snarled Pravus. “We are the only ones worthy of bowing down to.”
Murtag bent down and pulled King Zaridus to his feet.
Pravus looked King Zaridus in the eye. “Any last words, you pathetic, old man?”
“Perhaps I deserve such a death, but my son did not.” He glared at Pravus with contempt. “You’ll both burn in Ef Demd Dhä for what you’ve done.”
Enraged, Pravus shoved King Zaridus over the railing. The rope snapped tight and jerked back. The rooftop railing groaned, and the pylon they’d attached the rope to cracked up its side, but it held.
Pravus leaned over the railing. The two bodies dangled at the ends of their rope, neither of them fighting for life. He turned and eyed Aria. “And what of the princess?”
“She’s gone,” Aria growled. “Cinolth chased them all the way to the Gelu Ocean before losing them.”
Pravus smacked the railing. “Damn!”
Aria folded her arms across her stomach. “It makes no difference. Once we return to Galondu Castle and establish our rule over the Ancient Realm, we will scour the world for her. There is nowhere she can hide.”
Rended Souls Page 56