Part 4 (2/2)
At times Tyne heard the malignant whisperings of these dread spirits in the deep of night. Like the voice in the stone, he did not understand the words. They spoke in his mind like a breath of cold. He tried to shut them out, willed them to be gone. Sometimes they went away, but sometimes they did not, and he could only grit his teeth and shout back at them with his thoughts to be silent. He did not want to die like Marchus, slaying himself because of voices in his head.
He continued to have visions of dragons. They came when he touched the stone he guarded jealously, fearing its loss or theft. He slept with his hand curled around it, his dreams haunted by the sight of those distant aeries and the majestic creatures circling the snowcapped peaks. He felt the tether between him and the dragons grow stronger, though at the same time he grew weaker, lethargic, as if the bond was sapping his strength. It's this d.a.m.n forest, he told himself. It's unhealthy. Too dark, too musty, too old. I need to get out of here. Then I'll be better.
He thought of his dead brothers and the demon that had killed them. Where had it gone? He had not forgotten his vengeance. It would die at his hands. Now he had power. The stone was magic from the old stories, like Maergo's Cup or Prince Dirlek's sword Saeletyn. He did not yet know how to use the power he had given, but he would. And the thing that had destroyed his family would pay dearly for what it had done.
And then...
What? Once the demon was dead, what else would he do with such power? First, I'll find those thieves and kill the rest of them. Them and their lies about a G.o.d above the G.o.ds of Helcarea. Blasphemy. I'll teach them all a lesson about what happens to anyone who tries to rob me. Dead is what they'll be.
He would have to think about what else he would do once he figured out how to work the magic stone. Once he got out of this Urlos-d.a.m.ned forest.
Two days after descending the deadfall the trees began to thin out, and not long after that he finally reached the forest's edge. He laughed and bent over, bracing his hands on his thighs. ”Thank the G.o.ds I'm out of that wretched place,” he muttered to himself. He took a deep breath of air, then stretched out on the gra.s.s and closed his eyes, the warm sun upon his face.
He did not know how long he'd been asleep when he started awake, his heart thumping.
There was a man standing nearby, watching him.
Tyne scrabbled away from the man. ”Get away from me, thief!” He wrenched himself to his feet, then yanked the sword from its scabbard. ”Take another step and I'll run you through, I swear!”
The man tilted his head, as if puzzled. ”I am no thief, Tyne Fedron, and mean you no harm. Put your weapon away.”
”Why should I believe you? You're a d.a.m.ned thief like that other one! Talking about his One G.o.d while he tried to steal from me.”
”I am no thief.”
”You're a thief and a liar. Get away from me or you'll feel the bite of my steel.”
The man took a step closer and...changed. There was an instant of time far briefer than the pauses between the beats of his heart in which Tyne saw something wreathed in tendrils of shadow standing where the man had been. Tyne thought he saw dark leathery hide in place of flesh, a sinuous tail curling around clawed feet, enormous wings folded around ma.s.sive shoulders, eyes the color of blood- And then the man was there, his own dark eyes regarding Tyne the way a snake might size up the mouse it was about to devour.
Fear clutched at Tyne's bowels. The hands holding the sword trembled. ”What are you?”
”I am not something you can harm. Neither am I a thief. Now put your weapon away.”
”You're a demon like the one I'm hunting.”
”I am nothing of the kind. Sheath your sword.”
There was such authority in the man's voice, such a palpable sense of command, that Tyne felt compelled to obey. Disobedience to that voice seemed unthinkable. The sword nearly tumbled to the gra.s.s as he fumbled to sheath it.
”If you're not a demon, what are you?”
”I come from the realm of the divine.”
”You mean you're a...a G.o.d?” He could barely get the final words past the sudden tightening of his throat.
”No. I am but the servant of a G.o.d.”
”Which G.o.d do you serve? Urlos? Fenen? Turgil?”
”You do not know the name of my master, and I will not reveal it. Do not ask again.”
”What is your name?”
”That, too, I will not reveal.”
The man stepped closer to Tyne. The stranger was richly dressed in fine silks. His skin was unblemished, as pure as the purest marble. l.u.s.trous, straight black hair framed his chiseled face.
”Why are you here?” asked Tyne. ”What do you want with me?”
”You carry something you found buried in the forest-”
”I knew it! You're a thief!” Tyne reached for his knife.
”Stop!”
The man's voice was like a thunderclap. Tyne cried out and slapped his hands over his ears. His knife fell to the ground, momentarily forgotten.
When he lowered his hands there were drops of blood on his palms.
The stranger's mouth moved, but Tyne could not hear him. ”I'm deaf!” he yelled in horror. He could not hear his own words.
A look of irritation flashed across the stranger's face. He stepped forward and cupped his hands over Tyne's ears. Tyne heard a whoos.h.i.+ng sound, like a sudden gust of air.
”You are healed. It was not my intention to deafen you. But do not draw your weapons again or you will incur my wrath. I am losing patience with you. I am here to help you, Tyne Fedron, if you will only listen.”
Tyne recovered his knife and put it away. ”All right.”
”The power you found is not...compatible with my being. I am here to help you use it. Do not speak!” The stranger held up his hand as Tyne opened his mouth to ask why he wanted to help him. ”I will answer your infuriating questions in time. For now you will be silent.”
Tyne knew better than to argue. He sat down on the gra.s.s and waited for the man-although he really wasn't a man, judging by what he had seen and the stranger's own admission to being divine-to continue.
”I know what is in your heart. You wish to kill the creature-the demon, as you call it-who killed your brother. But what if I told you that the demon was not the ultimate cause of your brother's death? That there was someone else, a man, who could just as easily be said to have brought about the horrors that have stricken your family?”
Tyne thought the stranger was asking him a question, and so he felt relatively secure in replying. ”Who is this man?”
”His name is Gerin Atreyano. He awoke the being beneath the hills, ending a sleep that had endured for thousands upon thousands of years.”
”How did-” Tyne quickly clamped his mouth shut, but the stranger did not take umbrage at the interruption.
”Gerin Atreyano is a wizard, and used his power to call the being beneath the hills. It is not a demon, Tyne Fedron. It is a Vanil, a creature of great majesty and power, and it and its brethren ruled this part of the world ages before the coming of men to these lands. It did not intend to kill your brother. The Vanil did not realize how weak humans are. How fragile.”
”I don't care if it meant to or not. Rukee is still dead, and I'm going to kill it. If you really want to help me you can tell me where to find it, since you seem to know so much about it.”
<script>