Part 46 (1/2)

The man screamed and begged as the robed lizard-men dragged him off to his punishment. He even s.n.a.t.c.hed at the hem of Grandmaster Naraka's robes as he was dragged past, pleading for help.

The Grandmaster stepped out of reach. This was for his own good; whatever punishment he received, he would be a more honest man for it.

The Naraka Incarnation slowly turned its ma.s.sive body, regarding Grandmaster Naraka with amus.e.m.e.nt on his ashen face.

”Soa” he rumbled slowly. ”You are not known to me, but you have a familiar smell.”

Grandmaster Naraka pushed her gla.s.ses up on her nose. To her shame, she briefly considered pretending to be blind, an easy enough a.s.sumption for most people to make. It usually gained her a measure of sympathy, or at least opponents who underestimated her.

But the Incarnation would see through that in a second, and even if he didn't, he could almost certainly sense a lie.

She was ashamed it had even crossed her mind. She would need to a.s.sign herself an appropriate punishment, later.

”I am called a Grandmaster of Naraka,” she said. ”This is now my only ident.i.ty. I have shed my old self to become an avatar of my Territory.”

The Incarnation chuckled, sounding like he had tried to gargle boulders. ”You are not an avatar of your Territory,” he said. ”Not in full. You don't even know what that means.”

”Regardless, I have lived my life in accordance with Naraka. It was I who burned the Tree in Cana.”

The Incarnation's ember-colored eyes flared. All around the city, creatures of Naraka shrieked as one.

”Then you turned the last key in my prison,” he said. ”I owe you a debt.”

She shook her head, spreading her hands to show her humility. ”You owe me nothing. I wish only to destroy the keys to that prison, and ensure that you are kept free.”

The Incarnation lashed his tail, leaning forward on his ma.s.sive hammer. ”Speak clearly, Grandmaster.”

She met his glowing gaze squarely.

”There is a seeda”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR:.

THE GATES OF HEAVEN.

358th Year of the Damascan Calendar 24th Year in the Reign of King Zakareth VI 42 Days After Midsummer 3 Days Until Summer's End Alin returned from Myria as weary as he had ever been in his life. His armor seemed to weigh a thousand pounds, and all he wanted was to head straight to his rooms and sink into bed.

But as soon as he stepped out of the Naraka Traveling room*where each Naraka Traveler in the Grandmasters' palace arrived and departed*he was all but mobbed by a group of Enosh citizens.

The cheering felt like it would destroy his ears.

”Eliadel!” someone cheered.

”You did it!” a man called.

A weeping woman threw her arms around Alin's neck, and all of a sudden everyone was trying to touch him, even just placing their hands on his armor.

The Naraka Traveler leaned forward and whispered, ”They didn't catch you the first time, but everyone has heard the story by now. They deserved the chance to thank you.”

Alin glared at the man, but he just smiled back.

I specifically asked him to keep quiet, and what does he do? He has the whole palace waiting for us, that's what he does!

But he had to admit, as he listened to the people talk about his courage, his strength, and how much better their lives would be without Damascan oppression, that they probably deserved it.

He found himself smiling and shaking hands, returning greetings and compliments. He did avoid telling the story, though; he would surely do so eventually, but for now, the memory was just too fresh.

The crowd practically carried him off, so it was most of an hour before he broke free and managed to make it back to his rooms. All in all, the encounter had done him good*he felt much better now than he had earlier. The world had begun to seem so complicated recently; it felt as if any decision he made would inevitably be wrong.

He could relax now, knowing that at least these people's lives had been made better by his actions.

When he pulled open the door to his rooms, Grandmaster Naraka was waiting for him.

”I've been watching you,” she said. ”I know what you did.”

Alin sighed, stepping past her on his way to the bed. His armor was so uncomfortable that it would surely keep him awake if he tried to lie down in it, otherwise he would just collapse with the suit still on.

”I killed the King, and practically won your war single-handedly,” Alin said. ”At least one Incarnation is free, and now I'm sure Damasca will be too busy fighting their own prisoners to send any armies against you. You're free, and you're welcome.”

With the light of the hallway to her back, Grandmaster Naraka was little more than a dark silhouette with blood-red lenses over her eyes.

”Did you give your sisters the seed?” she asked. ”Or do you still have it?”

A ball of ice formed in the pit of his stomach.

”What are you talking about?” Alin asked.

”Come now, boy. You told me yourself. Where is the seed to the Hanging Tree?”

”Hidden,” he responded.

She shook her head sadly. ”The Incarnations will hunt for that seed. Other than another Ragnarus Traveler or their own foolishness, it's one of the only things that can send them back to their prison. You should give it to me, and I will destroy it.”

”Or what?” he asked.

She met his eyes, her voice level. ”Even now, the Incarnation of Naraka is on his way to Myria.”

Fear and fury rose up in him in equal measures as he marched across his floor, seizing the old woman with both hands and lifting her off the ground.

”What have you done?”

”I can contact the denizens of Naraka with my mind,” Grandmaster Naraka said. ”It would be child's play to let the Incarnation know that I have the seed, and that there is no more need to destroy your hometown.”

”Do it now!” Alin roared.

”The seed,” she said. ”Give me the seed, and this can all go away.”