“Sure,” Kihrin said. “Because the demons are hiding.”
“I noticed that.” Janel’s voice sounded numb. “I just didn’t understand why. They aren’t even attacking the Chasm.”
“Scamp, what don’t we understand?”
“I felt it, Ty. I felt the moment Vol Karoth woke up. That was what Relos Var wanted, what he orchestrated all of this to obtain.” Kihrin laughed, dark and hopeless. “Var convinced me he was interested in Janel, that she was his focus, that this was all about her. But the whole point was to trick me into waking up the one creature I would never willingly free. Vol Karoth’s not asleep anymore.”
Janel snarled, “Someday, somehow, I swear I’m going to kill Relos Var.”
Teraeth said, “Let’s gather everyone. We need to talk.”
64: THE ICE DUCH64ESS
The Borgheva Valley, Yor, Quuros Empire. Four days since the attack on Atrine
Xivan Kaen scanned the valley as a Spurned marched up the narrow trail toward her, carrying a deer on her shoulders. Behind Xivan, the mountain homestead and cave system of Bikeinoh’s clan, the Arsagh, hummed with tension. The steep trail was designed to be difficult to navigate, lined with spikes and steep, treacherous drops. The Arsagh hadn’t been thrilled with Xivan’s arrival.
Still, she’d only had to kill a half dozen or so men, before the rest agreed to a meeting.
“Hon,” the woman said as she passed Xivan, heading into the main structure. The Spurned’s face had been painted with a sigil, the same sigil Xivan wore. The same sigil every man, woman, and child in the homestead now wore, now that they understood its significance and use.
One day she intended to clean out the Spring Caves under every homestead, as Janel had somehow managed. In the meantime, the poisoned rock underneath them would hurt no more Yorans. When the chief had realized she offered them this gift, he’d become considerably more amenable to inviting her inside.
Not that it was a gift. More like a trade, but one with a simple price: any news of Suless’s location.
Xivan’s expression didn’t change as Relos Var and his apprentice, Qown, emerged from the portal. Relos Var paid no attention to the cold, but Qown was bundled up in furs.
“You’ve got a lot of nerve,” Xivan said. “Where’s my spear?”
Var made a face. “Unfortunately, I’m not going to be able to return that, but I’ve brought what I hope will be a suitable apology. Qown?”
Qown knelt and set a plain-looking sword on the ground.
Relos Var turned back to Xivan. “How are you doing, my dear?”
“Still dead,” she answered. “Almost as dead inside as out now, but fortunately for me, the hate is keeping me warm.”
Relos Var winced. “I’m sorry. I know you’ll get him back, though.”
“But he won’t be sane.” She paused. “He wasn’t sane before, was he?”
Relos Var paused and then nodded. “No. Suless is good at that.”
“You didn’t stop her.” Xivan didn’t even sound upset. She merely presented a simple fact. He hadn’t stopped Suless. He could have.
“I told your husband to destroy Suless when he had the chance. He refused. I may not have agreed with his decision, but I let my friends make their own choices.”
Her eyes flickered, and for the first time, emotion crossed her features. “Really? You’ve manipulated everyone you’ve ever known.”
Relos Var shrugged. “I won’t apologize for making certain options more appealing than others.”
“I would kill you now if I could,” Xivan said.
“You can,” Relos Var said. “The sword my apprentice just placed on the ground is Urthaenriel.”
She blinked in surprise as she stared at the weapon. “You found it. You actually found it.”
“Yes. Well, my brother found it.” Relos Var raised his hands in a “what can you do” gesture. “I think Azhen would have wanted you to have it, if he couldn’t wield it himself.”
“It wouldn’t destroy me?” Her gaze hadn’t moved from the weapon.
“Not at all,” Relos Var said. “But it will stop you from feeding and thus healing. However, its powers are only active when the sword is drawn, so I wouldn’t hold it unsheathed for more than three or four hours at a go. Barring that, I see no reason you can’t wield Urthaenriel. And indeed, I think we can both agree you might wield it very well against certain individuals.”
Xivan stared at him. “Suless.”
“It’s not called Godslayer for nothing.” Relos Var smiled. “And I do want you to find her. Suless has a talent for unpredictability I’d like removed from the board.”
Xivan gazed down at the blade. Relos Var wanted to use her. She knew that. He’d use her for his own purposes too; what she wanted wouldn’t be relevant to him at all. He might claim to want her to kill Suless, but she knew the names he really wanted crossed off his list sounded more like Khored, Taja, Ompher, Galava, Argas, Tya, and Thaena. Xivan Kaen had never been fooled by Relos Var’s overtures of friendship to her husband. She knew a puppeteer when she saw one.
Xivan picked up the sword.
AFTERWORD
And finally …
Deep in the heart of the Korthaen Blight, eight streams of light united in the center of a city. Once called Karolaen, now Kharas Gulgoth, the city existed as tomb and prison, maintained for one purpose: to imprison a corrupted god of darkness and oblivion with eight chains of light.
One of those lights had been failing. The same light always failed eventually, the same light always dimmed, each time sooner than the last. Maintaining the chains around a prisoner—one removed from the universe itself—was a strain capable of dimming the very stars in the sky. It couldn’t be maintained forever, but that light hadn’t yet failed. That one weak link wouldn’t have failed for another fifty or so years, if it had followed the pattern.
But we’ll never know.
Far to the north, a young man wielding Urthaenriel smashed what he thought was a Cornerstone. But since he had been deceived, what he destroyed instead was an ancient mechanism. A device whose sole purpose had been to feed a single stream of light to a site thousands of miles away, to the center of Kharas Gulgoth.
And so, a stream of light that should have lasted at least a few more decades flickered, dimmed, and finally died.
Eight chains became seven.
The number could not hold.
As a distant earthquake rumbled through the land, waking morgage from their beds, the system broke down. A single link in a corrupted god’s chains snapped.
Vol Karoth opened his eyes.
APPENDIX 1:
DRAGONS
Aeyan’arric—female—glacially white dragon but does not look like she’d been made from ice. Last seen in Jorat, current whereabouts unknown, but likely Yor.
Baelosh—male—a dragon made from vines and plant material or covered with vines and plant material.
Drehemia—female—described as shadowy, possibly made from shadows, and impossible to view directly. Current whereabouts unknown but has never been seen inside Quur.