VLAD SMITH rode high on his black stallion and peered down at the city of Mosseum, east of the Great Divide. The 49th was there, deep in an Elyonite prison.
Chained to the mount behind him, naked to the waist, rode his leverage, David Matthews, the father of the 49th in that ancient world. They’d left Ba’al’s Thrall in Qurongi City five days earlier, on the same day both he and David had awakened in this world.
Although only five days had passed here, four months had passed in that other world. The world where those he’d set in place were surely doing as instructed—his persuasion was thorough. They awaited his return.
He knew all of this because, although the 49th wasn’t dreaming in either world, David was dreaming here and informing him of his experience in that world.
Both David and Rachelle were mere shadows of who they’d once been. Blinded. And that blindness would soon deepen. The 49th was more easily hindered in that other world than here, which had been the whole point of his going there so long ago.
She still had only three seals. His aim to prevent her from finding all five before the Horde and Elyonites found and destroyed the Realm of Mystics was now almost a foregone conclusion.
Her guide, the old sage Talya, couldn’t be underestimated, but he was confined to this world. Vlad would crush the 49th in the other.
“It’s the perfect day to wreak havoc, is it not, David?”
Only the clopping of the man’s mare answered his question. He turned back and glanced at the slouched man, barely awake in his saddle, mouth bound by cloth. A part of him almost felt pity for such a hopeless soul.
“You should be proud of the service you will offer me during your short visit to this world. Though I must say, dragging you all this way hasn’t been the most convenient of my tasks. You’ve cost me at least two days, Daddy.”
David lifted his head and studied the city ahead with bloodshot eyes.
“Today is the day,” Vlad said, facing the city again. “My legion tells me that all is in place for our little party. All the guests have arrived, awaiting only you and me, although they don’t know it yet. Aaron, Jacob, Samuel. The three sons of the three great leaders, all in one place. I couldn’t possibly have hoped for more.”
Clop, clop, clop. After so many years in a different world, he found traveling by horse a terrible bore. Which is why he kept David bound and gagged except to feed him and coax details of his dreams from him each morning. Amusement could be found in many forms, most satisfyingly in another’s suffering.
“You know, they say that the second generation learns from the mistakes of the first generation. I’m glad to say this isn’t the case, or everyone would be water walkers by now. The sons are as blind as their fathers, and I intend to keep it that way. You’ll see, David. You’ll see.”
He let the horse amble on.
“Or maybe you won’t see anything.”
And then that was enough of talking to the gagged slab of meat. It was time to set his mind on the simple task ahead in the hall of fools.
Vlad nudged his stallion and felt the rope tied to David’s mount jerk as the beast kept pace. The clothing Ba’al had offered him would do the job—black pants and tan shirt with a dark jacket, all woven of the finest cotton and silk. Tall riding boots. No need for weapons, but he’d accepted the sword in his scabbard if for no other reason than it looked impressive in the eyes of small minds.
As Leedhan, Vlad could appear to be Horde or Albino, whichever suited his purpose best. Today, he rode as Albino, approaching the great Albino city of Mosseum.
Half an hour and he was at their gates, facing four of their black-clad Court Guard who blocked the way. As if they could.
Vlad cleared his throat. “Send word for Aaron, son of Mosseum. Tell him Marsuuv of the first order brings an ally in his war against the Horde. I will speak to him and the other two sons in private quarters immediately.”
The first man glanced at the second guard, who was grinning. “That so? Leedhan, is it?”
“Are you deaf?”
Undeterred, the man took in David behind him. “And I suppose this wretch is the ally you bring?”
“Both deaf and blind. Can’t you see that he’s my prisoner?”
The guard’s mouth fell flat. “No one enters without proof of citizenship or express approval.”
“Which is what I’m seeking.”
The guard studied him, unsettled by his tone. “You’ll have to wait here.” He shoved his chin at one of the rear guards, who took off at a jog. “And you should know that any insult of the Court Guard is an insult of Aaron.”
“Now you annoy me.” Vlad nudged his horse and rode forward, eyes on the bustling city beyond the gate. “If you keep talking, I may have to cut out your tongue.”
The guard withdrew his blade and stepped up to stop him. “You will wait until word—”
Vlad grabbed the man’s hair, lifted him off the ground at arm’s length, shifted the color of his eyes from green to a bright amber, and drilled him with a penetrating stare.
“I don’t have time to wait. Neither do you. My audience will be in place before I reach Aaron’s chambers or I’ll take the time to hunt you down and remove your bowels. Is this something you can comprehend, or have they taken your mind with your eyes and ears?”
The man grasped at his hair, wincing. He tried to nod—good enough. Vlad released his grip. The guard landed hard and stumbled back, glancing at the other two, who’d also found wisdom in backing away.
“Run,” Vlad said. “Make sure I’m properly anticipated.”
The man took off at a run, chasing the first guard.
Satisfied, Vlad took his prisoner into the city.
He rode leisurely, allowing them time. No one took much notice of an Albino riding with a second in tow.
He’d only spent a few hours among the Horde before leaving, but from what he could gather, there was little difference between this Albino city and the Horde city. Different skin, different colors, different flags, different architecture, yes. But human behavior in the world of polarity was still just human behavior, which wasn’t so different from any animal behavior.
Here, mothers chased their children off the streets and traded their wares in the market, just like in the Horde city. Boys and girls kicked around balls of tightly wound grass. Here, like there, men sawed wood and laid bricks; horses were shoed; dinner was served; some kissing and cuddling and sleeping took place before they all rose to do it all again, over and over for years and decades and centuries.
Humanity lost in polarity.
He should know. He’d watched the other world over the course of three hundred years and saw no real shift beyond humanity’s desperate yet hopeless attempt to improve life through style and technology.
But that wasn’t entirely true. A few had indeed shifted beyond polarity—devout women and men of faith. Most of these had lost interest in the world’s self-absorption and remained humble, out of the limelight that seduced most religious leaders.
Here, like there, religion blinded most followers to their own true power. Various forms of fear and judgment enslaved the faithful to polarity in this life, in large part by shifting the conversation to the next life.
The 49th could change that. Fortunately for him, they’d branded her a heretic.
“You like their stench, yes, David?” The man was fully awake, staring. “That’s right, you can’t smell it like I can. It’s the stench of fear. Found not only among the Shataiki but in nearly all humans, Horde and Albino. Love, love, love that smell. In this way we all smell the same, including you and me. Take it in, it’s who you are.”
Vlad took a deep breath and blew it out slowly.
“Fear. Love, love, love.”
A terrible terror washed through him and his fingers trembled. Truly, fear was all he knew.
It took him twenty minutes to reach the massive domed palace. As he’d hoped, the guard who’d gone to announce his arrival awaited him.
“Aaron waits in his chambers. You may leave your horses here.”
“Good.” Vlad swung his leg off the mount and dropped to the cobblestones. “Do me a favor and help our friend from his horse, will you?”
“Of course, sire.”
The man dragged David off his mount and led him by his restraints. Vlad took the chain and nodded at the man.
“This way.”
Aaron’s chambers were well appointed with many bookcases, comfortable seating, a desk, woven rugs—but these didn’t interest Vlad. Neither did Aaron’s battle dress, the way he’d groomed his dark hair, or the authority with which he held himself.
The moment Vlad stepped through the open door and gained the man’s eyes, he knew Aaron would do his bidding. This is what interested him.
“Your guest, sire,” the guard said before bowing and taking up position at the door opposite another guard.
The other two sons were also present. Samuel, son of Thomas, Albino. And Jacob, son of Qurong, Horde. Samuel, unbound, was dressed in a tunic and sandals. A guest here. Jacob stood in tattered undergarments, arms chained behind his back. A prisoner here.
They looked at him in silence, all curious. Slightly unnerved except for Jacob. Vlad’s legion had informed him they’d been here a week.
It wasn’t the only thing they told him.
“So,” Aaron said, stepping forward. “To what end does an Albino who claims to be Leedhan appear at my gates, demanding an audience with me? I was occupied.”
“Pleasures of the flesh can wait. The world needs us, my friend.” Vlad shot his prisoner a harsh glare—stay—dropped the chain, and walked toward them, leaving David near the guards.
To Aaron, indicating the couch: “Please, my friend, take a seat.”
“I don’t know you as a friend, and we sit if I say we sit.”
“Stand if you prefer. But I see you followed my orders to have your two guests join us. I think that settles the question of who’s in charge here, don’t you?”
Aaron glared, but he was too seasoned to squabble. A good sign.
“Who are you? What do you want?”
“Better.” Vlad crossed to a high-backed chair covered in sheepskin, sat to face the three sons, and folded one leg over the other. Then shifted his eye color again, answering the better part of the first question with one look.
“I am the Leedhan Marsuuv, better known across the worlds as Vlad Smith. So you will call me Vlad. Before I tell you what I want, do you need me to persuade you further?”
“Dear Elyon, it’s true!” Samuel breathed. “I thought they were rumors.”
Aaron’s jaw clenched.
Jacob looked unaffected.
“Why are you here?” Aaron demanded. “Who’s your prisoner?”
“My prisoner is the father of the 49th Mystic. My legion tells me you have her in your dungeons.”
“How did you come across her father? Mystics are ghosts in this desert.”
“I also understand that you’ve fed her the rhambutan fruit to keep her from babbling about other worlds.”
“I know nothing of other worlds.” Aaron paused. “You’re well informed.”
“But of course. I have eyes unseen by you. And though you may know nothing of other worlds, you will. Tell me the prophecy that concerns the 49th.”
Aaron glanced at Samuel, gauging the other’s reaction. They’d become comfortable with each other. Also good.
“‘A child will be born, the 49th Mystic, who will divide to expose the shadow of death,’” Aaron recited. “‘Then the lion will lie down with the lamb.’ So?”
“So . . . the Horde believes this to mean that if the 49th succeeds in exposing this shadow of death, they, the lion, will be subjugated by the Albinos. Your people believe the opposite. And so you both have your reasons for wanting her to fail, which indeed she must. But it’s much worse than what either you or the Horde believe.”
“Nothing could be worse than being enslaved to Horde,” Aaron said. “I prefer death, as would any true follower of Elyon.”
“Of course. And the Horde would say the same about being subjugated by Albinos. But you both have it wrong. In truth, if the 49th completes her mission, she would expose the shadow of death, as the prophecy states. If the shadow is brought forward, it will blind all. The lion and the lamb will lie down together. Both Horde and Albino will be forever lost in a darkness not yet known.”
He let his claim set in for a beat.
“You see how devastating heresy is? Indeed, the Realm of Mystics should be called the Realm of Heretics. The 49th will be the death of all.”
It was a lie, naturally. But those in fear knew no better than to fight fear with more fear. Fear was their god. They were compelled to protect themselves from a perceived threat, as they always had been.
“This can’t be true,” Jacob said, speaking for the first time.
Vlad drilled him with a piercing stare. “Isn’t this what the prophecy states? ‘A child will be born, the 49th Mystic, who will divide to expose the shadow of death.’ Both Horde and Albino live in so much fear of each other that they no longer see the far greater threat of the shadow of death that looms over all.”
Jacob evidently thought better than to advance his argument.
“So you see, we are at a time of great reckoning. In the end, either the 49th and her Mystics will complete their mission and release the shadow of darkness to enslave all Horde and Albinos, or the 49th will betray the Realm of Heretics so we can destroy it and break the curse looming over our world. Do I have your understanding of this?”
“Why have none of our theologians interpreted the prophecy in this way?” Aaron demanded. “Or the theologians of the Horde, for that matter?”
“Because you are equally blind.” That much was true. “I’m here to give you sight.” That was stretching things a bit. “You must know by now that if you torture any scripture long enough, you can get it to say whatever you want.” True and common in both worlds. “But I present you with a truth you cannot afford to dismiss for fear it might be right.”
None of them replied, but Vlad knew he had Aaron’s attention. The other two . . . Well, at least one of them would eventually come along.
“What is your role in this matter?” Aaron asked.
“I am Leedhan. My only concern is to save this world for my kind. To that end, I was dispatched to the other dimension, which the 49th also seeks to blind. My role was and is to undermine her there, for the simple reason that if she succeeds there, she will also succeed here, and we can’t have that. You don’t want to live in hell, do you?”
David, who’d remained obediently silent thus far, staggered forward, issuing gagged cries at the mention of his daughter in the other world.
“Silence him,” Vlad ordered.
The guard behind David hit him with the hilt of his sword, hard enough to drop the man to the floor, unconscious.
Vlad looked at Aaron and continued. “Following her birth in the other world, I learned that her mind couldn’t be compromised like other simple minds, at least not using the means available there. I require the help of . . . shall we say, ‘elements’ from this world. Which is why I went to so much trouble to make my way back. I won’t be here long. I only need you to understand your most critical role here so that I can play my role there.” He flashed a grin. “Capisce?”
It was the first time he’d laid out his mission to humans in such plain terms, all of them true. He felt a bit naked. An interesting feeling.
“Capisce?” Aaron said.
“A term from the other world. To understand.”
“This is madness,” Aaron snapped, crossing to the mantel where his glass of burgundy wine sat. “There are no such worlds.”
“You don’t need to believe that there are. It’s none of your concern. Finding and crushing the Realm of Heretics before the 49th can fulfill her mission, on the other hand, is.”
Aaron turned back, glass in hand. “My concern is to protect my people. To this end, the Horde are the most immediate threat.” He took a sip of his wine.
“Of course, and you’ll get your war. Qurong marches east as we speak and will be joined by the Eramites. Frankly, I don’t care if you all kill each—”
“The Eramites? The half-breeds from the north?” Aaron had lowered his glass.
Vlad was losing his patience. “Will you question everything I say?”
No response. Aaron was stubborn, he’d give the man that much. A good quality, if properly channeled.
“As I said, you will get your war. But in all the bloodshed, you must remember what you hear today. The Mystics are by far the greatest threat our world faces. All of them. Not one can be allowed to remain living.”
Aaron stared at him. His capture of Jacob could only mean he was baiting the Horde, eager to end them in one final conflict.
“How far out?” the son of Mosseum asked.
“Two days. Now, the more urgent matter.”
“You’re suggesting I execute the 49th.”
“No,” Samuel said, stepping forward. He caught himself and quickly offered his reasoning in a thinly veiled attempt to throw them off. “No, she must betray herself.”
“Very good, son of Thomas. The 49th is the only one who can betray the Realm of Mystics. So, no, execution won’t do.”
Vlad unfolded his legs and stood. It was time to move things along.
“The 49th must be allowed to escape. To this end”—he faced the son of Qurong—“Jacob will break her out.”
“Out of the question!” Aaron snapped. “I have him as bait and leverage.”
“Your bait has already drawn the full attention of Qurong. As for leverage, Qurong isn’t so easily manipulated. Jacob’s release, on the other hand, will make the Horde think twice and weaken their resolve. This will be to your advantage.”
He let the logic sink in.
“What matters far more is that Jacob will be led by the 49th to the Realm of Mystics, which has been hidden from you for so long. When he returns with the location, you will be free to destroy them. Do you not understand the gravity of your situation?”
“You trust a Horde to reveal what he finds?” Samuel objected. “Why this beast?”
“Because the 49th is falling for him.”
The statement settled between them. Jacob stood impassively in his chains. Samuel, on the other hand, could not hide his offense.
“She trusts Jacob,” Vlad continued. “Which is why it must be him and no one else.” He held Jacob in a long stare. “But we know he would never betray his own people. Allowing the Realm of Mystics to survive would endanger Horde as much as Albino.”
Silence settled in the room. Aaron was torn between a war against the Horde and the destruction of all Mystics. Jacob was eager to liberate the 49th. Samuel was still trying to decide if it was possible that the 49th could love a Scab.
Surely.
Aaron faced Jacob. “What say you?”
The Scab hesitated, then offered a single nod. “His logic isn’t flawed.”
“You agree to this?”
“I do.”
Aaron returned his glass to the mantel. “So be it. When?”
Samuel stood like stone, face flushed.
Vlad ignored him for the moment. “Tonight.”
“I’ll need my armor and weapons,” Jacob said.
Vlad dipped his head. “Naturally. I suggest you prepare. You may go. Samuel, stay for a moment.”
Jacob glanced at Aaron, who nodded.
The Scab looked at Vlad, held his gaze for a moment, then strode for the exit. The guard opened the door and allowed two others to escort Jacob from the room.
“How can you know this?” Samuel snapped the moment the door closed. “That she loves this beast?”
Vlad cocked his brow. “Do you doubt me?”
“It’s impossible! She loves all, but not him, not as a man!”
“Why do you care?”
No response. Which was answer enough.
“But you’re right about one thing, son of Thomas. Jacob cannot be trusted.”
“Of course not. He’s Horde.”
“Not because he’s Horde. Because he’s falling in love with her.”
Samuel looked gut-punched. “You’re saying that they’re both party to this madness?”
“I’m saying that you must follow them without being seen. They will lead you to the Realm of Mystics. You, my friend, will be the one who saves all Albinos from the shadow of death.”
Vlad faced Aaron. “Kill every last rotting Scab if you must. But remember what I’ve told you today. The annihilation of all Mystics must take precedence! I have eyes everywhere.”
“And yet not even you know where the Realm of Mystics is.”
“The Mystics have surrendered polarity at a very high level. Like all Shataiki, Roush, Horde, and Albino, we Leedhan are bound in polarity.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, their Realm is beyond our purview. If we knew where they were, they would already be dead.”
Aaron frowned. “So be it.”
“Good. Now show me where you have the 49th. I have a gift for her before I leave you all.”