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Chapter 41
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Trevan yawned as he set his instrument pack down on Dain’s desk. He glanced to the spot where the guard and the attendant had been killed. Even though the rug had been replaced and the floor scoured, he felt he could still smell blood. He shook his head at himself and turned to the panel in the wall behind the desk that held the vault. He sat on the floor in front of it, frowning as he wondered if this one would be like the first, and not give him any trouble. He’d already done all the office vaults. The vault in Dynan’s room had already been opened, but there was the one in the Lord Chancellor’s rooms yet to go. He’d get to any others tomorrow.
Maralt had spent a lot of time in Dain’s room, so in here Trevan thought he would need to be a little more careful. He checked the panel first, and found it clear of obstruction. He could tell that it had been opened recently, so he proceeded cautiously. A shadow crossed the door as he set up the diagnostics, and Ralion leaned against the doorframe, watching.
“Need a hand.”
“No. Not yet anyway. How’s Dynan?”
“Asleep. Gaden is with him. I couldn’t stand it any more. I never thought of myself as a very religious person, but I’m starting to get that way.”
Trevan smiled a little at that while he carefully placed a sensor on the controls that opened the vault. “Sounded pretty bad when I was in there. Can’t Geneal give them something?”
“Nothing but anethinol, and she doesn’t want to do that without Marc around to keep them safe. I saw the brain scan. They aren’t being attacked, just dreaming.”
“Some dream.”
“Maralt is good at that.”
Trevan nodded. The diagnostic on the control panel came up clean. The next step was to get it open and hope nothing blew up in his face. “Think we’ll ever beat him?”
“I think we have to.”
“What happens if Marc comes back and he’s really Maralt?” Trevan asked.
“He won’t let that happen. Marc is smart enough and strong enough. He did it last time, and he’s learned a lot since then. At least I hope so, because we’ll all end up dead otherwise. Or worse.”
Trevan nodded, hoping Ralion was right. “You better head out. I’m going to open this thing up.”
“Serious? What about you?”
“Logue was pretty proficient with this sort of thing. I’m going to be standing over there, just in case, you know.”
“I’ll wait in here. Just in case.”
“All right. Thanks.”
Ralion closed the door to a crack while Trevan programmed the equipment to access the vault. He took a control pad with him, moving to the far door and closing it until he could just peer in. He keyed in the sequence, and stepped back so the doorframe would offer some protection. He heard the vault click open, but nothing else happened. He waited another minute, then looked in and Ralion did the same from across the room.
Trevan started to smile and then he smelled it. A rotting stench quickly filled the room; the smell of blood he only thought he’d imagined. He thought of the two dead men with their hearts cut out. Ralion started shaking his head and moved in to look. The grimace on his face confirmed it.
“Son of a bitch. No, don’t look. I’ll get a medic in here to take care of it.”
“Is there anything else in there?”
“Yes. Looks like a box. I can’t see past it.”
“All right. I have to finish checking for traps before anyone sticks their hand in there. I might as well be the one to do it. Get the medic.”
Ralion came back with Mielkin, who helped talk Trevan through the process. There wasn’t anything to it, really, but the idea of picking up a man’s heart and putting it in what amounted to a bucket made him sick.
“You going to tell Marc about this when he comes back?” Trevan asked, pulling in short breaths so he wouldn’t choke. It wasn’t working too well. “Ralion, can you isolate air circulation to this room, and hit vent?”
“Yes, sure. Good idea. I think I remember how to do that. As long as I don’t have to re-route any circuits.”
Trevan laughed because Ralion always, without fail messed those up. “No re-routing. Here’s the next one. I can’t believe that son of a...What would possess a man to do something like this?”
“Maybe his momma didn’t love him enough when he was little. And yes, I’m going to tell Marc. Can you get the box out?”
“Yes. It’s clean too. At least for moving it. Don’t know about opening it yet, so don’t.”
“Right.”
He lifted out the box, trying not to breathe, and handed it back to Ralion who then set it down on a large anti-static cloth. “There’s a pouch of coins, pretty heavy too. That’ll make Dain happy.”
“We aren’t going to tell Dain about what else, except the box. He’s afraid enough to be in here as it is.”
“Has he been at all?” Trevan asked.
“No.”
Trevan backed out of the vault, turned away and found some fresh air. Mielkin helped him out of the stained gloves while Ralion closed the vault door. The medic then took the grisly package, all sealed up in its bucket container, from the room. Trevan looked at Ralion. “Glad I didn’t eat.” He didn’t think he’d be able to eat for a few days after that. “Give me a minute, and I’ll see what’s in that box.”
While they waited, Ralion poured them two large glasses of Corrigan. After about half of it, Trevan felt like he could go on. He really dreaded finding out what was inside, but tried to put those thoughts out of his mind while he carefully checked the hinge and lid. It was a small box, rectangular in shape and no bigger than a normal-sized book.
He ran the sensor pen around every seam, and when the scans came back negative, he lifted the lid by increments, and checked again. He nodded and opened it all the way.
Inside, a book rested, its cover decorated with the Telaerin seal, except that the center was a sphere instead of a diamond. There were eight spiraling bands that ended in gemmed points. Everything else was the same, except for the sphere. Trevan thought of the orb Marc had to carry, frowning over it. Ralion swore under his breath.
He opened the book cover, blinking down at the title. “The Book of Truth.”
Ralion stood when Alexia walked into his office. Gaden followed, an apologetic look on his face. “Your Majesty.”
“I will see Prince Dynan,” she said, and turned for the open door to the Lord Chancellor’s office, meaning to go through to the King’s office. That door also stood open a crack so Ralion could hear.
“He’s asleep, Your Majesty.” Ralion moved to the door, thinking that would stop her, but saw by her imperious frown that it wasn’t to be.
“Wake him.”
“Your—”
“Now, Minister.”
“I’m under physician’s orders to see that he isn’t disturbed.”
“You may lodge a complaint with High Council. Wake him.”
He felt his temper rise, thinking she didn’t have the right to make such a demand. Before he could stop her, she moved into Marc’s office, and would have continued, but Dynan started screaming.
Ralion swore and pushed by her. This wasn’t the first time he’d woken like this, and Ralion was certain Dynan wouldn’t want the Queen to witness the aftermath. He all but closed the door in her face. Ralion cringed slightly at that, but turned to Dynan. It took less time to calm him. Pain stopped him quicker than anything Ralion said. He woke enough this time to be aware of where he was. There’d been a few instances during the night, when he’d seemed to be waking, only to be trapped in a nightmare. He and Dain both.
Dynan noticed the time of day. It had been dark when he fell asleep, and now it was late afternoon, edging toward evening again. “Dain—”
“He’s upstairs in bed. You slept the night, well, sort of, and most of today. Alexia is next door. She wants to see you right now. I couldn’t stop her. There’s been some kind of argument between—”
“I know. You shouldn’t have let me sleep.” Dynan pushed himself up and paled instantly. Ralion got out the dermal injector that Geneal had given him, and after easing him back down onto the couch, gave him the usual dose of medication. Alexia came in as Ralion finished, allowing Dynan little chance to compose himself. Ralion wanted to tell her to get out, but restrained that impulse. They couldn’t afford any more confrontations with her.
“Would you get a report together for me, please?” Dynan asked. He didn’t get up to greet Alexia and kept his head in his hands, bent over his knees.
“Yes. Morlin’s report is on your desk. I’ll be in my office.”
“Thank you.”
Ralion left the door open, but couldn’t hear clearly what was said. The Queen’s tone left little doubt that she was extremely angry. He heard her mention the High Council, but that was all. That was enough. Ralion heard her coming out a short time later. He waited a space of breaths before moving to the King’s office. Dynan hadn’t moved from the couch, and still leaned on his knees. After a long silence, Ralion started to give him the report, but stopped when Dynan shook his head. He started to say something, but stopped. After another silence, he stood, taking care to ease up to his feet. Ralion didn’t think he could walk, but he did.
“I need those books.”
Ralion nodded. “They’re upstairs. I can go get them. It won’t—”
“No. I’ll go. I want to see Dain anyway.”
Ralion followed him out, afraid he’d stumble, but when Dynan reached the door to the main hall, he straightened, preparing to leave the relative sanctuary of the offices. It was something Ralion had seen him do countless times before, preparing himself to be seen. It seemed to take a lot longer.
The main hall was full of people coming and going, servants working; messengers rushing to deliver rolled or folded parchments. Gaden’s progress with the com system was steady, but slow.
People turned, stopping where they were as they noticed Dynan. The relief they felt was palpable and easily visible on the faces that looked to him. For the last day, Ralion had felt that same expectancy any time he’d gone out. People looked to him as they now looked to Dynan, to ease their fears and worries, trusting that he would know what to do. The weight of that responsibility pressed in on him with enough force to crush. Ralion spent a lot of time hiding from it and the eyes of all those people. He didn’t know how Dynan stood it, but he smiled easily at those he passed, assuring them without saying a word that he believed they’d make it through. Ralion stopped himself from questioning his own faith in that.
Dynan paused at the landing, looking up the stairs that would take him to the guest wing. When he turned that way, Ralion couldn’t believe it, but then had to wonder who he was going to see. He didn’t think it was Alexia, or Creal. Drake had gone up to his ship so he could send a message to Marella.
Ralion pulled in a breath, thinking it was a good thing Dain wasn’t conscious.
“I’ll have the com system back up by this evening,” Gaden said from behind him.
“Really?”
He nodded wearily. “I’m in the process of changing all the codes now. We’re going to run a few security checks and then we should be set.”
“Good. That’s good. Thanks, Gaden.”
He nodded easily, glancing down the hall after Dynan, a slight frown crossing his face. Ralion watched the realization dawn, the same questions answered internally. There was only one person in the guest wing Dynan would willingly go to. His eyebrows rose a notch. “Good thing Dain isn’t up.”
Ralion’s smile didn’t last long after Gaden had gone back to his office. As long as Maralt Adaeryn existed they were none of them safe, and he doubted he’d ever completely trust that the com system was secure from his meddling. Logue Riztrin had managed to get around every other precaution they’d taken before. Maralt had that knowledge now, and abilities that changed too fast for them to keep up. Without Marc, they were more vulnerable. Without Marc, their chances weren’t good at all.
Ralion went back into his office and stayed there the rest of the day, trying to sort through all the things that needed attention, feeling overwhelmed and inadequate. He was angry too, that Carryn hadn’t returned. That she was alive didn’t surprise him so much as make him wonder why she left in the first place. When they’d needed her most, she vanished without an explanation. To Ralion, a good enough reason didn’t exist for her actions. Then to reappear so abruptly, albeit to save them ... It didn’t make sense, now that she was gone again.
The day grew late, and evening settled over the Palace. While he watched out the window, the lights came on, bathing the grounds down to the gates in comforting brightness. Ralion didn’t think he’d be able to sleep with the lights down ever again. He was about to turn from the window, when he saw one of the patrol guards react sharply and in growing amazement. The guard raised his laser rifle, taking aim, real fear entering the man’s face.
“Ralion!” Gaden rushed back just as he was moving to the door. “I think Marc is back.”
Gaden jumped, eyes widening when he heard laser fire. Ralion raced from the room, swearing, and Gaden followed. He ordered the main doors open and started yelling for the guard to stop shooting before he was outside. That order was relayed with expediency and the guard relieved of his weapon. Ralion reached the bottom of the portico stairs turning back to look and saw it; a huge dragon perched at the top of the King’s Tower, wings flapping to keep its balance.
“He’s not alone.” Gaden nodded.
Ralion didn’t wait to look, rushing back up the stairs and inside. Conversation halted as they raced in. At this hour, there were fewer people out, but enough, and rumor of the great beast outside spread rapidly, bringing more people to see what the commotion was about. Strangely, Ralion noticed their relief when he thought they should at least be a little worried, or something, about a dragon sitting on the roof. They accepted this otherworldly mythical occurrence with a lot more calm than he felt. He stopped at the closest guard.
“Get these people out of the halls.”
“Yes, Minister.”
Taking the stairs two at a time, they reached the ballroom, and hurried out to the balcony into the cold. Ralion was surprised to find Drake staring in dumbstruck amazement up at the tower. When the King started backing up, Ralion turned to see the dragon coming down to land before them, and as Gaden had reported, he wasn’t alone. A man crouched down on the dragon’s shoulders, and as soon as they landed, slid down to the balcony floor, but on the far side from them.
“Welcome home,” Ralion said a little hesitant, afraid that the same struggle he’d seen at the Governor’s Hall would be repeated here. He didn’t know how hard it was for Marc to change back, and he sure didn’t want to get fried by mistake, or worse.
Drake didn’t seem concerned, or was overcome by awe, moving closer for a better look. Ralion wanted to stop him, but Marc didn’t show any overt sign that he minded.
“You think maybe he’d ever let us go up with him?” Gaden asked, staring wide-eyed at the creature that barely had room to move on the broad expanse of the balcony.
“You mean take you for a ride? Go right ahead and ask him, Gaden.” Ralion shook his head, and held his breath while Drake reached out and touched its forehead. “Drake, I really don’t think that’s such a good idea. I mean, he about incinerated Carryn the last time, and—” He stopped abruptly when Marc turned to look at him, snorting derisively about a hand span from his face. A blast of warm air rushed over him. “Come on, Marc. Please.”
His head rose abruptly and he pulled in a draught of air, freezing Ralion’s heart in sudden fear. He realized the next instant that Marc was smelling for something. A low guttural growl startled them all, and Marc moved to look inside the ballroom. The floor shook. Alvuen stood near the dais by the windows, watching them, and she jumped back a step. Marc obviously didn’t want her there. Other people were coming down from the guest wing, servants of all three of Their Majesties, and a few Palace Guards.
“I’m going,” Gaden said and disappeared inside, telling the guards again to clear the ballroom and the stairs. Marc snarled before the door closed and the sound of it carried inside, prompting a quicker exodus. Alvuen was the first to get going. For a heart stopping moment, Ralion thought Marc meant to go right in after her.
“I don’t think she saw me,” a voice said that Ralion recognized, but couldn’t place. Drake started, and then stared, the range of emotion playing across his face leaving Ralion confused, afraid and curious.
Marc’s reaction was another snort, and he turned, searching again, taking short breaths that kicked up a wind when he exhaled. Snow and leaves blew up in the air. Then he craned his neck back to look up. Looking with him, Ralion saw Dynan standing in the window of his rooms, his reaction mirroring Drake’s, and then he whirled around.
“Ambrose?”
“Yes, Drake. Marc, you need to change back now, or we’re going to have a problem keeping my presence here unknown or contained.”
Ralion hardly heard what he said, moving around to confirm the voice with the face. He remembered what Dynan had said about his father in his dreams. Marc hadn’t just brought back Ambrose Telaerin’s soul. He’d brought him back alive and whole. Ralion looked at him, amazed at how little he’d changed, and realized the King hadn’t changed at all. He hadn’t aged.
Ambrose smiled at him. “There’ll be time to be amazed later, Ralion. I need a cloak with a hood, and we need to get inside. I think Dynan is on his way down.”
Marc snorted, either in response, or because of something else. He kept looking around, sniffing the air. “What’s wrong?” Ralion asked and took a step toward Ambrose and Drake. He got a growl in response, confirming his suspicion of danger and that usually meant Maralt. He wondered why Marc didn’t simply tell him. “Talk to me. What is it?”
“Maralt most likely,” Ambrose said. “I don’t think he can talk to you in this form, or maybe it might be too dangerous to you.”
Gaden returned, but Marc stopped him from seeing Ambrose, blocking his path with his head. Gaden looked confused, but didn’t question the demand either. “What, uh, do you need me to do?” Marc bumped him toward the door, and nipped at his uniform sleeve. Both actions almost knocked Gaden off his feet. “You want a uniform?”
“A hooded cloak,” Ralion said, sending Gaden off again. “Is it Maralt?” At that, Marc seemed to hesitate, sniffing the air again. “You can smell him? That’s handy.”
“He may be trying to find a way to take me back,” Ambrose said. “Marc is injured. Perhaps he feels stronger in the body of a dragon than his own.”
“How is this possible?” Drake said, still overwhelmed by his old friend’s presence, making Ralion think of other consequences.
“That’s a long story, Drake, but the short version is that Marc Talryn is a very special young man. I think I’m here to help find some of those answers.”
“But ... the succession, and Dynan’s coronation. Ambrose, if you’re alive. If? You’re still King.”
“No, Drake.”
“You’ll never be able to keep this unknown.”
“If it becomes known, then I’ll publicly affirm Dynan as the next King of Cobalt. I think that for now, and as long as we can keep it quiet, we should try to do that.”
The ballroom door slammed opened and Dynan rushed out. He skidded to a halt, eyes sweeping the balcony. When he didn’t see his father he took the last few steps to the railing, and got around Marc. He froze again, staring in amazed wonder, and crossed the space that separated them the next instant.
Ralion turned to offer some privacy, listening with a smile as father and son were reunited. Drake watched them, still dazed by it. He kept shaking his head, though he wasn’t unhappy that Ambrose was there. Gaden returned with the cloak and this time, Marc let him pass. His mouth fell open and he immediately sank to a knee before Ambrose, who laughed and let Dynan go.
“Apparently, the Lord Chancellor has a different concept of quiet than mine. Get up, Gaden.” Ambrose relieved him of the cloak and put it on quickly. When Marc snorted again, Ambrose turned to him. “Yes, Marc, I recognize necessity when I see it. Is Maralt going to attack?”
Marc communicated his frustration at that question with another growl. Something about that sound, so low and menacing, sent a shiver up Ralion’s spine. The next instant, the dragon’s form shrank and Marc, with the orb hanging from a heavy chain around his neck, emerged before them. Dynan reached for him, but he didn’t fall.
“Clear the stair to Dynan’s rooms,” he said. “Everyone, all the guards, servants. Make sure Alexia’s people are kept away. Go. We’re moving when you hit the stairs.”
Ralion turned. “Gaden, you’re with me.”
“Dynan, where’s your guard?” Marc asked.
“I ... I told them to stay upstairs. How do you know they aren’t here? Are you—”
“They usually make just enough noise to be noticed. Let’s move. Who else is in your rooms?”
“Gable, Geneal, Bronwyn, and Garan too.”
“They’re fine.”
He heard Ralion ordering the guard, and rapidly ascending footfalls on the stair. More orders followed. He couldn’t see to tell if they were clear, and felt like he needed to. A dragon wouldn’t fit inside too easily, large though the Palace was. He frowned, and thought of something else.
Beside him, Dynan jumped as he changed into a large black panther. “Damn it, Marc.”
He looked up at him, blinking until his eyes grew accustomed to the light. When he breathed, the scent he’d smelled before returned sharply, and his bent down to follow it across to the stairs, outpacing the others easily.
When he hit the landing, the smell turned for the guest wing, but then another crossed its path, moving back to the Royal quarters. He hesitated, looking in both directions. Ralion stared down at him, mouth slightly agape before he clamped it shut. He looked quickly to make sure no one behind him could see, shaking his head as he turned back to the guest wing. On the opposite stair, Gaden looked over his shoulder, and stopped short, smiling in surprise. Then he was through the doors to the Royal wing, clearing the way to Dynan’s rooms.
The others caught up to him, and he turned with them, wanting to get Ambrose safely inside to a secured location. He beat them up the stairs again, following the trail left by something he couldn’t quite define. Instinct told him it wasn’t good. That it led into the Royal quarters set him on edge.
Mikk Jorg opened the door to Dynan’s rooms for him, and Roland met him inside with the same wide-eyed expression. Gable froze in place as Marc went through to the next room and Gaden joined him long enough to confirm that his orders had been carried out. The next room was Dynan’s study, and beyond that door in a private parlor, Ambrose pulled his son into his arms again.
Marc kept going, still following the scent. It led to Dain’s door and stopped. He started to go into the room, but didn’t, remembering that Avry was on the other side. Bronwyn and Garan were there too, and he didn’t want to frighten them. Ralion came down the hall right behind him and went in explaining. They were still surprised, but Marc couldn’t blame them for that. He went to the bed, and searched around it. The odor wasn’t present. He lifted up to rest his forelegs on the bed, and searched Dain from one end to the other. He didn’t stir throughout the process.
“What is he doing?” Bronwyn asked finally, keeping her voice low.
“I think he’s looking for Maralt,” Ralion whispered. “He can smell him. Isn’t that something?”
Marc glanced back at him, shaking his head, which was more a side-to-side wag, and made Ralion laugh. Marc turned back to Dain, sniffing along his side, up across his chest and when he reached the bite wound, he froze for an instant. The smell came from it, but he felt certain it wasn’t the same as the one he’d just been following. Just caused by the same thing. Maralt.
Drawing out what ever poison was left in the wound would have to wait. He needed to get back to Ambrose, afraid Maralt would try something, so he left Dain to Bronwyn and went back to the parlor. Along the way, he made sure the scent trail didn’t go anywhere else. Ralion followed him again, frowning. “So you found what you were looking for or what? Maralt’s been in here?”
Marc stopped outside the parlor door, and growled at him. Dynan and Ambrose sat together on the couch by the fireplace. Marc watched them a moment and the look was returned briefly. Gaden and Drake had made their way to another sitting room, this one next to Dynan’s private dining room. Marc looked one last time at them before willing himself back into his own body.
“Maralt’s been here?” Ralion asked again, and at Marc’s nod, walked him to the dining hall.
He nodded. “He didn’t do anything except look as far as I can tell. I don’t think he can yet, and he won’t while I’m here.”
“All right. Gaden, go down to the com office,” Ralion said. “Tell Trevan I want him on the stairs. Alexia may try and get in here.”
“I’ll come with you,” Drake said. “We won’t allow it.”
Marc tapped the back of a chair he was holding on to. “What’s Trevan doing in the com office?”
A moment of silence followed that question. Drake went ahead while Gaden remained to answer. “We’ve re-sequenced and re-coded everything. If you need me to go over it with you, I will. If you don’t want it up, we won’t do it,”
“Restrict access to my room, Dynan, Dain, Queen’s office, yours and my office and the King’s office. That’s it. No one communicates but through those areas and access will be limited to staff officers.”
“Yes.”
“All right, but hold off on it for now. Go.”
“It’s good to have you back, Marc. Been a little too quiet.”
“He has a different concept of quiet too,” Ralion said. “You didn’t mention the Medic Center in that list.”
“That’s right.”
“Too open. Geneal has been running herself ragged going up and down these stairs, Marc. We can isolate their system and have her on receiver. Would that lock them out well enough for you?”
“Yes. Go talk to her. I’ll be in with them.”
Marc stood at the door listening before he knocked softly and went in, feeling his way along the wall. He wasn’t sure where the source of unease came from, so he didn’t want to be too far from Ambrose just in case. Maralt could take him easily enough, easier than anyone else except maybe Dain, because of the strong link between them. Marc didn’t think Maralt was powerful enough to do so, and thought that weakness due to the limitations of the body he inhabited. How long before the host went insane, he wondered, and didn’t have an answer. Alvuen also had something to do with his nervousness, but he couldn’t tell why, only that it existed.
Dynan talked with his father quietly, and Marc realized that he was arguing his own abdication. Ambrose repeated what he told Drake, with little effect. “My responsibility to this Kingdom has been irrevocably passed to you. I died. Kamien was King after me and you will be King after him. These are things that can’t be changed. My responsibility to you will never change. You’re my son. I’ll help you any way I can, but I won’t take back the crown. I don’t want it. Besides, once you’re crowned, I think I’d like to have that vacation I never took. There’s a piece of advice you can take to heart. Start scheduling some off duty time now and you might stand a chance of actually taking it. Make sure it’s part of your schedule and inviolable.” Dynan wasn’t capable of finding much humor in those words. Marc listened while he wept and his father comforted him. He closed the door behind him, causing a brief silence. “Everything under control?” Ambrose asked because Dynan couldn’t yet.
“More or less,” Marc said. “I think we were successful getting you in here without being recognized. Gaden is ready to go ahead with the com system and with a few restrictions in place, I’m satisfied it’s secured. Their Majesties will have to communicate from the Royal offices. I don’t want to give them code clearance this time. I’m aware Alexia won’t like it, but we don’t have a choice if we want to keep the system secure.”
“She’ll take that to mean you don’t trust her,” Ambrose said.
“It’s Maralt I don’t trust. He’s been in here, Dynan. Walked right up to Dain’s door. As far as I can tell, he didn’t go in. I don’t know why not.”
“I was with him most of the time,” he said quietly.
“Then that’s probably why.”
“You can tell when he’s here?” Dynan said. “Even when you’re not ... when you’re you? I mean—”
“I can tell either way, yes.” Marc smiled a little. “I would appreciate it if you could order the guards not to shoot at me next time. That was a little scary.”
Ambrose grunted at that. “A little?”
“Sure. I’ll make sure they know not to shoot at any dragons.”
“They can open fire at the wraiths.”
“Are there going to be wraiths for them to shoot at?”
Marc shook his head. “No. I don’t think so.”
A brief silence ensued. Marc heard Dynan pushing to his feet, then begin pacing. “How ...much have you told him?”
The question came out with considerable trepidation. Marc understood why. Dynan felt like he owed his father an explanation for the things he’d done and feared his reaction. Ambrose answered before Marc could. “He did a reasonable job of bringing me up to date on what’s been happening.”
“Great. And you still think I’m ready to be King? Alexia wouldn’t have the grip on this system that she has now if you’d take the crown.”
“Dynan, I’m not here to judge you. The circumstances you’ve faced are unlike anything I encountered during my reign, or even when your grandfather was King. You’ve made good decisions most of the time. You’ve made bad ones as well, and that isn’t going to change.”
“But my bad decisions cost lives, and—”
“That’s right. I was lucky that during my time there was peace. I was given the respite. I did send men into dangerous situations, and some of them died, sometimes because they shouldn’t have been sent at all. Your grandfather faced those same decisions many times more, and he felt the same way. It’s never easy to put men in harms way, nor should it be.”
“Gemern Taldic is dead because I didn’t listen to Marc about security.”
“More guards wouldn’t have stopped what happened,” Marc said.
“What could they have done?” Ambrose asked. “Come sit down. The only way you could have avoided the attack at the Hall, would be if you hadn’t gone, and you couldn’t have done that. Just as you couldn’t have shown up with a huge contingent of guards. Your reasoning was perfectly sound based on the different variables presented to you. The Governors who insisted you cut the number of guards have only convinced their colleagues that you were right, or so they believe.”
“That’s not the impression I got on my way back here.”
“They blame you for what happened.” Ambrose chuckled. “And they’ll insist you have nothing to do with events when things go right. The nature of the job, son, but in the greater scheme of things, you can be sure that most people know who’s responsible for what. People generally know much more than we’re willing to give them credit for.” Another silence filled the room. A log shifted, sending up hissing, crackling sparks. “You know, your plan to trick Alexia into thinking you’ve accepted her demands is near brilliant, especially getting the gems copied. Dangerous, yes. Quite possibly doable. I’m impressed. I’m terrified for you, but I’m impressed.”
Marc waited, swearing silently because he’d forgotten to tell Ambrose about their conspiracy. The connection led straight back to Dain. Dynan let out a breath. “He told you?”
“Not at first,” Marc said quickly.
“How did you find out then?”
“I found out from you mostly, and from Loren. Dain reacted to one thing that gave me pause. The announcement, or lack of one. I remembered how much you wanted to avoid one. I started to wonder why that was so important, and I asked Dain to tell me what you were doing. He and I agreed that I should go along as though I didn’t know your plans, to keep up the appearance for Alexia. It was my idea to have Loren leave and to take a less public role when she gets back.”
“Was it your idea to have her argue with Danetha out in the main hall?”
“I’m fairly certain that was Alexia’s doing. Loren shouldn’t have left Bronwyn in charge. That was a mistake. What does Alexia want this time?”
“A public apology from Loren, and her out of the coronation.”
“It won’t hurt Loren’s reputation to admit to a mistake, and that she intends to leave it to those more experienced than she. Then you hand the coronation over to Marella when she arrives and Loren right along with it. The plans are already made. We just have to pull it off. Loren stays close enough so that everyone knows it’s her doing, but far enough out of the public eye to make Alexia happy. You keep giving her the little concessions so that she doesn’t ask for the big one. An announcement. We string her along. We get the proof we need that she dealt with Maralt. We have the name of her spy. She’s probably got Bajain looking for the same evidence that Loren isn’t who she says she is, but she’ll have a harder time finding it since she can’t come right out and ask. Marella did a good job of hiding our tracks. That story is holding up well enough. Loren’s apology will strengthen it.”
“Creal knows.”
“He’s not talking. Who else?”
“Ralion. I think that’s it.”
“Only if we’re really lucky. Your guards probably suspect something. They also understand what’s at risk. All you have to do is hold on until you’re crowned, and you’ll be able to do this.”
“See?” Ambrose said as he stood. “You hardly even need my advice. I’m going to go look in on Dain.”
Marc waited until he heard the door close. “Dynan, I don’t know how I did this, or why it’s even possible.”
“All right.”
“What I’m trying to say is that I don’t know how long...He could be gone tomorrow for all I know.”
That produced a lengthy silence. “I can’t exactly complain, can I? I understand. I can hope it won’t happen. Just as long he doesn’t get sent back to...”
“No, he won’t be. My original intention was to send him to the Hall of Transition.”
“I’m not at all sorry it didn’t work out that way. It’s more than I ever thought possible. I don’t know what you went through to do this. I won’t ever forget it.” He pulled in a breath. “Are you all right with Maralt?”
“Most of the time. For now, anyway. You can’t feel anything from it, can you?”
“Not at all.”
“With it existing in our physical reality, I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to block you from it.”
“Physical reality. Now, there’s a big one.” Dynan moved to the chair by the fireplace, leading Marc to sit. He served some tea and joined him. “How am I going to explain all this, my Lord Chancellor? Not that I mind having a dragon going into battle for me, but it’s just a little out of the ordinary. And why did you have to make it a dragon?”
“I think it had something to do with the really big monster standing right in front of me at the time. It was the first thing that came into my head. I think you know why.”
“And the cat?”
He smiled at that. “They’re indigenous to Cadal, and I’ve always liked them.”
“So what’s it like?”
“Different. I don’t know. I can see for one thing, and there’s a level of basic instinct that comes in pretty handy. I didn’t even realize until Dain and I got back to the Governor’s Hall that I had physically been taken in whole. If I had known, well, we’d probably still be there. I never would have believed it possible to turn into anything at all. Why it’s possible is something I’m still trying to sort through.”
“The Gods are weakening.”
Marc wanted to shrink away from that truth. It led to others he didn’t want to think about. He was afraid Dynan knew. “The natural order of the world is altered,” Marc said, “which allows these creatures to exist in reality. Maybe that’s all that existed at the beginning of time, when there was no order.”
Dynan was silent and Marc heard him pouring another drink. He felt certain it wasn’t tea. “I don’t know how to say this.”
“Then don’t. I already know what I have to do. I’ve known it all along. I wanted to believe that maybe you could change it, but that isn’t going to be the case.”
Another silence followed, while Dynan finished the drink. “Do you know when?”
“So eager to get rid of me?” Marc said, really wishing that they weren’t having this conversation at all.
“No. Marc, I’m really not.”
“I’ll know when,” he said quietly. “I don’t want Shalis or Loren to know about this, all right? I don’t think I can—”
“I won’t tell them.” Dynan fixed another drink.
“Do you think I could have one of those? I promise I won’t let it go to my head.”
“Sure. It isn’t very strong anyway.”
“Thanks.”
“Long way from Cadal, isn’t it?” Dynan said, handing him a short glass. Marc took a sip and thought nothing tasted quite so good. It wasn’t Corrigan and that made it excellent.
“Another lifetime ago.”
“I’m sorry I got you into this.”
“I think if you hadn’t come to Cadal, Dynan, you’d be dead by now, along with a lot of other people. Maralt would have won, and he would have found me eventually. Besides, I never would have met Shalis, or your crazy brother.”
“That doesn’t exactly make up for you dying at the end of it all, Marc.”
“I’m ... trying not to think about that part. You know that instinct you have that tells you when it’s time to get going, and how hard it is when you have to ignore it.” He smiled a little, and drank down the rest of the liquor. The sound of voices came from the hall. He heard Ambrose talking softly to Gable about dinner. “So how many people at the Governor’s Ball saw me?”
“As a dragon? Not too many, actually. They were all in chambers for that part. Most of them. There were a lot of guards who saw you just now and there are rumors going around. Some of them fairly accurate. I don’t know what to tell them about it.”
“What are they saying in general about what happened?”
“Kanzler told me we’d shaken things up enough and it was time to stop. The planning committee fools are falling all over themselves to find out how that servant got in—the one who gave you the anethinol. Finance sent me a message that about half the Governors have suddenly paid their levies. Maybe they’ve heard I’ve got a really big dragon up here to take care of things if they don’t. Everyone at the Palace knows it. As for the storm, that’s what they’re calling it. A storm.”
“One with sentience!” Marc snorted.
Ambrose came in then. “You could always blame that on the Rising.”
“The Rising?” Dynan asked.
“Malari? The planet?” Ambrose chuckled. “You’d know this if you’d bothered going to your planetary sciences class.”
“Yes, all right. Malari. I do know, and I would have gone to class if Master Sein had been a little less boring. You remember the droning voice. He went on for hours—”
“What about the Rising?” Marc asked.
“Malari is a planet,” Dynan said when Ambrose insisted he go on. “Made primarily of tolian and trilithibuel gas. Every thousand years, or so the history books say, it passes through the Cobalt system. It’ll be here in twelve days.”
“Coronation Day,” Marc said.
Dynan nodded. “Malari will rise that night for the first time. Loren planned it that way.”
“What happens prior to its arrival makes this more than just a pretty sight in the night sky,” Ambrose said. “Alurn reported that the weather started changing, sometimes rather drastically.”
“The weather,” Marc said. “What else?”
“Two Ages ago we sent a ship to find it. We found the Alcasians instead.”
Marc felt a chill crawl up his spine. “A thousand years ago, a planet named Malarin rose over Cadal. There’s a reference to it in the Book of Legends and one of the few things from that time that we were allowed to learn about.”
“Coinciding with the adepts being there.” Dynan stood, and walked to the fireplace.
“Coinciding with their destruction. We have all the adepts in one place again and a planet on the way that’s big enough to hide an invasion force.”
“But, the Alcasians? Why would they come all the way here?” Dynan asked, following the supposition. Marc could hear panic starting to edge into his voice.
“Seems like they have a pretty serious grudge against telepaths. The Alcasians destroyed Cadal to get rid of them, but they missed a few. Namely Maralt’s and my ancestors. One escaped, while the other remained for a time before he too left. One went to ... Where does Carryn come from? Where was she born?”
“She was born on Yomir,” Ambrose answered. “She and Maralt came here as infants. They were raised at the temple.”
“The temple?” Dynan said. “You never told me that. Neither did she.”
“I wasn’t bringing her here to advise you in that capacity. I knew Dain wouldn’t accept her at all if he knew. She was the only person, other than Maralt, who had any knowledge of telepathy. She also saved your life a number of times.”
“She had visions,” Dynan said and Ambrose nodded.
“A few.”
“So you knew.”
It came out as more an accusation than a question. Another silence settled through the room.
“I knew quite a bit I didn’t tell you,” Ambrose said. “I was warned it was dangerous to do so. Considering how things have turned out, I’m glad I didn’t.”
“You knew you were going to die.”
“All men die, Dynan.”
“Don’t.”
“I was given a book, an old book, written by one of your forefathers.”
“Alurn.”
“Perhaps,” Ambrose said.
“Adiem.”
“Unknown, but it had his flair for the extreme. I don’t know who wrote it, but it all turned out to be true.”
“Where is it?”
“I burned it. I couldn’t risk anyone finding it later, after I was gone. You may even have heard of it.”
“You’re talking about the Book of the Word,” Dynan said. “And the people who guard it with their lives.”
“Carryn is one of them. So was Maralt, originally. Yes, he was one of them, before he turned from them. Although, I’m not so certain they didn’t help make him what he became. The book they gave me was a copy, old, but a copy nonetheless, rather than the sacred tome. I didn’t know it at the time.”
“It’s called something else,” Dynan said.
“The Book of Truth.”
Dynan pulled in a breath at that. “They have it still.”
“They have the original, I’m sure, but as with the other book, I suspect they made copies.”
“They did,” Dynan said. “She’s there now, isn’t she? Carryn. At the temple. Marc?”
He jumped because he hadn’t been paying attention, mulling over the ramifications of the Alcasians coming to Cobalt. “Yes, she is. How long does it take to get from Cadal to Cobalt?”
“Roughly four weeks.”
“Does Malari cut across any of the other systems?”
“Yes,” Ambrose said, “but not nearly so close as Cobalt. From various references to it, and the way the planets are lined up in each system, Cobalt is on the farthest orbital axis while Malari does what is supposed to be a spectacular fly-by.”
“Other than Malari rising, what happened here a thousand years ago?”
“Cobalt was founded by King Alurn,” Ambrose answered again.
“King Alurn, who wrote about the Rising. When did Cobalt gain the technology to fly in space?” Neither of them answered, and he nodded. “Maralt’s ancestors went to Yomir. Mine came here. Alurn came here from Cadal.”
“And because I went to Cadal,” Dynan said, “the Alcasians discovered that they hadn’t killed all the telepaths.”
“No,” Marc said. “They already knew they hadn’t killed them all. They knew about me. My question is why did they let me live? It was their intention, or seemed to be their intention to destroy all the telepaths, but they let me go. Why?”
“Perhaps that’s a question we’ll have to ask them,” Ambrose said.
“Looks like we might have the opportunity to do that.”
“Coronation Day.” Dynan breathed and sank down into his chair. “As soon as we get com back up, I need to talk to Commander Morlin.”
“I know that your first impulse is to send a ship to get confirmation, but I don’t think we should do that,” Marc said.
“You don’t think we should find out for certain?”
“I already know for certain, Dynan. They’re coming here. I don’t know why, but I don’t think it’s to destroy Cobalt the way they did Cadal. For one thing, they let me live. There has to be a reason for that. But any military move against them, even sending a ship, could be misconstrued as an attack, which would precipitate an attack here. We don’t have the military capacity to withstand an invasion force. You send a ship. You lose that ship.”
“So we wait? I can’t do that, Marc. You remember what I told you about them?”
“Yes, I do, but you’re basing your opinion on information from a battle that took place two Ages ago. I have more recent experience with them and their actions weren’t hostile in any way. Besides that, we don’t have a choice. We can start a war for certain by confronting them, or we can maybe avoid one by waiting to see what their intentions are.”
“And if their intentions aren’t peaceful? What then, when it’s too late to do anything about it? Are we going to sit here quietly and be annihilated? What if you’re wrong?”
“I’m not wrong.”
“You’re not wrong.” Dynan muttered under his breath for a moment. “All right. You’re not wrong. You better not be wrong. I can’t believe this. Will you please take the crown back? Please.”
“No,” Ambrose said easily. “Marc is right. There isn’t anything that you can do about this, except start a war you can’t possibly win. Listen to him. In the mean time, I’m going to go fix dinner.”
He left them, and Marc frowned. “He’s going to fix dinner?”
Dynan laughed. “Yes. Pretty un-king-like. Whenever we didn’t have a formal dinner to attend, that’s what he did. Usually once a week.”
“I like him,” Marc said, and leaned back in his chair, thinking it felt good to be indoors, and even better to be himself again. It was a decidedly peculiar sensation being a dragon. “He reminds me of my father.”
“I can’t believe he’s real. He hasn’t changed at all. He looks the same. He talks the same. Suddenly it feels like the last seven years of my life didn’t happen.”
“You know what’s going to happen when it gets out that he’s here.”
Dynan didn’t answer for a moment, then laughed under his breath. “Sorry. I was nodding. Yes, I know. Maybe he’ll listen then. Don’t worry. I’ll be all right with that too.”
Marc didn’t tell him what he thought would happen. It didn’t seem fair to quench a joy so recently given. Dynan would likely realize it on his own soon enough.
“Do you suppose it’s all right to have the com system brought back on-line yet? A pair of ladies I know will be interested in your return.”
“Yes. All right.” Marc pushed himself to his feet, feeling the effort it took to stand more acutely. He ached just about everywhere. He called the guard, and recognized Avry’s voice. Marc told him to send word to Gaden to go ahead with the com system.
“Tell him to come up here for dinner when he’s finished,” Dynan said. “Trevan too. We should go get cleaned up. You could stand a bath.”
“What? Oh, right. We’ve been in a cave for a few days.”
“A cave? You went to the meadow,” Dynan said.
Marc explained while they walked back to his bedroom. Ambrose was in the hall, coming back to tell them that dinner would be ready soon. Whatever was cooking could now be smelled through the open door, and Marc could finally admit to being hungry.
Dynan stopped abruptly, breathing sharply, and Marc felt it too. Dain was waking up.
Ambrose laughed. “It still works then.”
“I’ll go help him. I’ll talk to him, Pop. He’ll understand.”
“If he doesn’t, it’s all right. I don’t want you to argue with him about it. You don’t know what they did to him.”
“Yes, I do, and I won’t need to argue about it. He’ll understand.”
“Well, I hope so, but I can’t blame him if he doesn’t.”
Marc went ahead, feeling his way down the hall to Dain’s room. He heard Bronwyn ushering Garan toward him, explaining as she went that he was going to give his father a chance to wake up, like it or not. “Now go on to the kitchen and stay with Gable. Please, Garan, just do it. Welcome back, Marc.”
“Thank you. Garan, Dain will be up in a minute. Go meet your grandfather. He’s in with Gable.”
“Grandfather? My real grandfather? I have a real grandfather?”
“Yes, you do. He’ll like to hear about Roth, if you want to tell him.” The sound of footfalls thudded away, followed by Dynan getting run into, quick apologies and more running.
“Ambrose?” Bronwyn asked. “You brought him back.”
Marc smiled and nodded. “Why don’t you go too? I have to do something with Dain anyway.”
“Do something?”
“He’s got something in his shoulder I need to get out, and it may be a little difficult. Dynan and I will take care of him.”
“His shoulder. Yes, all right. I thought so. Where he was bitten?”
“Yes.”
“All right.”
Bronwyn followed after Garan, though with some hesitancy. Marc thought she would likely start thinking about meeting Dain’s father in a moment or two, and smiled over it.
Dain was just starting to stir, muttering a little as he woke. Marc could tell he was in pain, and moved to his side. Dynan came in behind him, sitting down on the other side of the bed and took his brother’s hand.
“I think I’m going to need to borrow your eyes for this,” Marc said. He didn’t like the idea, afraid something would happen because of it, but he couldn’t see the wound or what was inside it even when he concentrated on doing so.
“Sure.”
“There’s something in this bite wound.” He blinked in the sudden light, glancing first at Dynan. “You can’t feel anything can you?”
“No.”
“Let me know if that starts to change.”
Dain’s eyes fluttered open, but didn’t stay that way and he groaned. His breath came in short, measured gasps. “That...hurts,” he whispered.
“Hold on. Marc is going to fix you up. Hold on to me.”
Marc concentrated again and this time, he could see the splinters under skin. The thing that left them wasn’t natural, and neither were the thin spikes; one for each of the teeth marks that circuited Dain’s shoulder. There looked to be about twenty of them, black splinters that sought for the heart. One of them had gotten fairly close. He looked at Dynan. “Do you see them?”
“Yes. What is that?”
“I don’t know exactly. I don’t know how they’re going to feel coming out either, so hold him down. I expect it’s going to hurt. Dain, you ready?”
“What?”
“Never mind. Just hold on to Dynan.”
As carefully as he could, he reached inside of him, and pulled out the first splinter closest to his heart. Dain gasped, jerking sharply, his body curling from pain, when Marc touched the fragment. His eyes widened with the first shock of pain. When he had it out, Dain started shaking his head.
“No, you’re not...you’re not going to do that again.”
Marc examined the thing he held, wondering briefly what to do with it, then decided to put it inside the orb with Maralt. He smiled. “Well Dain, for each one that I pull out of you, I’m sticking it into Maralt. Does that make you feel any better?”
“No. I don’t care. You’re not doing that again.”
“There are four of them that are too close to your heart. I’m pretty sure you don’t want to find out what’ll happen if they get that far. They have to come out. We can hold off on the others for a little while, but not long. There are a lot of them.” Marc gave him a minute to accept the situation, then pulled out another.
“Can’t we give him something for this?” Dynan asked.
“No. Won’t work.” He cringed as he drew out the next. One later and Dain was begging him to quit. Marc pulled two more before he did, leaving fourteen, but those were far enough from Dain’s heart that he felt safe about it. “All right. That’s it for now. I’m sorry. Here.”
He concentrated then on making the pain stop, and giving him strength, needed energy to help ease a dragging weariness. The shivers of malignant energy that remained sapped his strength and would cause him discomfort until they came out. After a moment, Dain recovered, smiling wearily.
“Better?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault. How long before you have to get the rest?”
“Tonight for certain. After dinner.” He stood, glancing at Dynan expectantly. “I’m going to go change.”
A few minutes later, Gable had Marc ensconced in a hot bath. Not long later, he heard Dynan in the dressing room on the other side of the door, explaining about Ambrose. It wasn’t an easy discussion for Dain, considering his father’s actions, but in the end, he understood. Marc allayed his biggest fear, that Ambrose had been turned against them. He showed Dain what his father had done to save Dynan and that did more to ease his mind than anything else. He buried his own sense of betrayal in the relief that Dynan hadn’t been hurt. He had a lot of questions about how Ambrose’s existence was possible, but Marc left Dynan to answer those. They had to entice him out of the water, then stayed to help him get dressed. Dain didn’t do much toward that end, having needed the same help from his brother.
“That’s an ugly wound,” Dain said, watching from where he sat.
“It’ll go away soon enough.”
He nodded to the chain around his neck. “That’s new.”
“Beats carrying it around in hand all the time. I’m ready. Are you?”
Dain didn’t look too enthusiastic, but pushed to his feet. “Does he know about Garan?”
“Yes,” Dynan said. “He seems to be taking it all well enough. Relax Dain, you’re too old to be taken over his knee any more.”
“A father’s prerogative always,” Ambrose said from the door, then smiled easily. “He’s a fine boy, Dain, and promises to be as much trouble as you were growing up. He’s back in the kitchen with his mother.” Ambrose moved to him, sobering as he reached for him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do. Knowing now that they never intended to keep their word only makes it harder to accept. I should have refused them from the first.”
Marc pulled Dynan out with him, affording Dain the same opportunity he’d been given and saw that he was fending off tears. It was a rare day in his life when happiness was the cause. “Which way is up, Marc?”
“Last time I checked it was that way.” He pointed upward. “And gravity still works.”
Dynan laughed, and rubbed his eyes dry. “For now, right?”
“Something like that.”
In the dining room they found the others waiting. Drake had come back and Gaden was up from the com office with Trevan. Ralion stood off in a corner, and everyone turned when they came in.
Dain followed with his father a few minutes later and they sat to eat. There wasn’t one piece of meat with the meal, and for that, Marc was grateful. For a change, he had an appetite. He ate, watching his friends through Dynan’s eyes. He thought he shouldn’t still be using him, but it felt good to see their faces. He wanted to believe that Loren was right. Maybe she was. Nothing horrible had happened. That didn’t mean it couldn’t though, and decided to switch from Dynan to a guard instead. He settled back with a glass of water and watched.
Ambrose talked back and forth with Drake about all the news from Trea, thanking him quietly for all the years of assistance he had given to his sons. Dynan and Dain watched their father, still amazed that he was sitting with them over dinner. There would be future consequences that held the promise of grief and losing him again. They weren’t thinking of that now though, avidly watching every word and gesture. Everyone else did the same. They looked at a man once their King and weren’t entirely sure how to react to him. Ambrose’s relaxed and pragmatic manner put them at ease, while he offered an explanation for what had happened to him.
“But what was it like?” Gaden asked, halting other conversations abruptly. “I’m sorry. Never mind. I’m always asking the wrong thing.”
“He doesn’t know about Allie,” Marc thought to Ambrose.
Ambrose glanced across the table at Dain, who tensed visibly at the question. “It isn’t a topic meant for ease of discussion, but that shouldn’t deter a discussion from taking place. You needn’t apologize for your curiosity, Gaden. Perhaps it’s more a need to assuage your grief. You’ve lost your brother. We lost our friend. It’s normal for anyone to question what death is like, more so under the circumstances we face. Gaden, Allie was with me. Gemern Taldic, Xavier, Roth and too many others as well. Marc tried, but he couldn’t get to them.”
“We’ll get them back,” Dain said softly and looked to Marc.
He hardly noticed for the sudden, stark realization in Gaden’s eyes. He kept shaking his head, but finally turned to him. Marc kept hearing himself tell Allie that he wouldn’t let Maralt hurt him again, and he had failed him at every turn. Marc knew the only way to save him and all the others was to submit to the High Bishop, a thought that sent a shiver of fear through him. Marc knew it, and had to accept it without reservation or hesitation. Otherwise, it wouldn’t work. Evil wouldn’t be destroyed, but unleashed on a world that no longer had the power of the Gods to stop it. The same will that over the course of countless Ages had beat against the edges of its confinement, stood on the brink of escape. A demon thirsting for a return to reality. It leeched the strength of the Gods, drawing power from them, and if it ever broke free of its containment, nothing would ever stop it again. Eternal damnation awaited Brittallia if he failed.
The thing had a name, had propagated an evil seed into man, destroying lives in its wake. Marc thought of all the writhing masses he’d seen at the Gates, representing a great horde that would descend to command the living. Some were greater in strength, some lesser, but they were all guided by one.
He didn’t know how far back it all went. He knew the name, but didn’t want to think it. The first to embrace evil and his name was Beliel.
Then Gaden asked, because he had a right to the question and the answer. “How? How will you ever get him back?”
No one moved, but Marc felt them looking at him. He didn’t want them to know. He didn’t want the added responsibility that their knowledge carried. They waited for him, and he finally began, telling them what he knew and had learned. No one interrupted, listening while he took them through a vast history of time, ending finally with what still had to be accomplished. These were events that had started eight years ago, and would culminate with him taking in and containing all the evil that Maralt represented.
“Once I have Maralt whole and contained. I have to take the rest of them. There are six. While that’s being done, the others will be able to get out of the Gates.
“All of them?” Dain asked abruptly when Marc paused to take a sip of water. “How?”
“I’ll be able to do it by then,” he said, trying to believe it without feeling his very real doubts. He meant to continue, but found it nearly impossible to speak. “We’ve known what needs to happen after that for a while now.”
Marc stopped again, and withdrew from the guard he was using to see, and darkness descended. He didn’t want to see their reactions to the news of his impending death. He thought a few of them might be relieved, and didn’t want to know about it. Then he felt Dynan’s hand on his arm.
“Ralion, go get the Book of Truth from my study. There’s a passage in the last testament that explains what has to happen. I started reading it earlier today. You’ve probably not heard of it before. This book was abandoned for the more acceptable Book of Faith a long time ago. They’re fairly much the same in ideology, with one exception, all references to the events that we’ve been experiencing were removed. I guess no one wanted to believe that the Gods could weaken. Maybe they found it all too unbelievable.”
Ralion returned, and set the book on the table. Pages turned and stopped. “Long Ages shall pass and there will be war upon the land. In the midst of destruction they shall be born, children of the forbidden land. And they shall live among men in the land of his destruction. One shall live in the light. One shall live in the dark. The false King heralds their coming unto the land of his deception. One will come who will be destroyed and find healing. He is chosen. He who turns evil aside, preceding the night, who holds the light in his hand. In him, the sacrifice of life restores the world. Only in the betrayal by he who came before will the land and all that dwell therein feel the light of God. So ends this Testament of Truth. Let none who hear it doubt its wisdom.”
“Wisdom?” Dain said, pushing his chair back from the table as he stood. “All I get from that is a lot of allegorical nonsense. Land of his deception? One who will be destroyed and find healing? What does that mean?”
“There’s more,” Dynan said evenly, but Marc heard him tell his brother to sit down and be quiet. Dain didn’t seem likely to obey the order. He started pacing in a slow, limping walk instead. “From his willing hand the light and life will be rent away...”
“Now there’s a lovely contradiction for you,” Dain said silently. Marc could hear him and he was certain Dynan could too.
“This is from the Testament of the Gods of Strength. From his willing hand, the light and life will be rent away. Only then shall God survive in the heart of man. He suffers from the sins of his failure, pure of heart, keeper of the great well. His name is Truth. He carries the light of strength. Lest he should fail and fall into the abyss of night, lest strength should wane or heart be broken, he will be succored by the anointed; refuser of the gift, and the divided, the seed of he who comes again, joined in broken resolve.”
“There’s another one. Broken resolve. What is that?”
A fist hit the table, bouncing the plates and silverware. “Would you just shut up and listen for a change?”
“I am listening! To acquiescence! To one possible interpretation of this, one that leaves Marc dead in the end. All my life I’ve been taught to believe in merciful Gods, not the kind who rend life.”
“The Gods are weakening.”
“How? How is that possible? Oh and let’s not forget the part about betraying Marc. What did it say? Only in his betrayal by he who came before, whatever that means, will the land feel God? So who gets that job? Or maybe that’s what we’re doing right now. A few days ago, we agreed that Marc’s interpretation of this was wrong, and they didn’t mean to take him because they were helping him. Now, all of a sudden you’re condoning it?”
“A few days ago?” Dynan said angrily and stood. “A few days ago, we hadn’t been attacked by a Wraith! We didn’t have a storm that destroyed half the Governor’s Hall. A few days ago, we didn’t have a Lord Chancellor capable of raising the dead. Don’t talk to me about what happened a few days ago. This book is the only thing we have in the way of guidance. It would be more of a betrayal if we don’t listen. You don’t have to like it, Dain. You just have to do what it tells you.”
“I can’t believe you’re going along with this.”
“He doesn’t like it any more than you do,” Marc said before Dynan could respond. “It’s admitting defeat, and I know how hard it is for you to accept that. I don’t need this kind of help though, Dain. It’s hard enough for me to accept it. If you don’t help me, I won’t be able to.”
“I don’t want to help you! I don’t believe in giving up. I don’t believe in that book or any of its testaments. Not if it means you’re supposed to be some sort of sacrificial lamb. I won’t do it. I won’t help you die.”
