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Chapter 51

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“My name is Pedric Karst.” For the first time in weeks, Pedric Karst remembered everything. His memories had returned in a painful rush the moment Shanis Malan had driven her sword into the Ice King’s heart. At least, he had thought it was the Ice King. Even now, he sensed the god’s presence, distant yet still powerful. And though his hold on Karst had weakened, the icy hand still clutched his heart. He sensed Shanis Malan somewhere behind the city walls and the desire to drive his blade through her still burned inside him.

But he remembered.

He remembered with striking clarity his mother who had died so many years ago. He remembered her face and he thought that perhaps he had been a different person while she lived. He remembered the first time his father had put a sword in his hands and warned him of a world filled with people who wanted his blood. He remembered how he strove to please the man who grew more distant every day. And then other memories intruded. He remembered Calmut, Shanis Malan, and humiliation. He should kill her. Not for the Ice King, but for himself. For revenge.

He donned the cloak he had stolen from a dead Galdoran officer, pulled up the hood to shield his face, and stepped out of the shadows. The army, his army as he still thought of it, had retreated from battle, but already they were making preparations to resume the attack. The blank stares on the faces of the men he passed bore mute testimony to the return of the Ice King’s sway. He had not been killed, nor even defeated, only stymied. Karst knew that wouldn’t last.

No one paid him any mind as he strolled through the encampment. The men huddled around fires, tended the wounded, or sat staring off into space. As he moved among them, the presence in his mind grew stronger and along with it the urge to complete his task.

Angry words drew his attention and he ducked behind the cover of a nearby tree.

“You cannot do this to me!”

Karst knew that voice.

“I am the leader! You serve me!” Rimmic Karst, hands bound behind his back, stumbled past the spot where Pedric hid. He was escorted by a dozen warriors and behind them trailed a priest.

“We all serve our god,” the priest said. “He has decided that this is how you will best serve him.”

Pedric’s hand went to the knife at his belt. They were taking his father to be sacrificed. He should do something. The thought brought another wave of excruciating pain shooting through his head. He clamped his jaw shut and suppressed the wail of anguish that threatened to give away his position. It was not his place to interfere. He had his own task to complete.

But it’s my father.

Despite the agony, despite the compulsion to leave this place and go after Shanis Malan, he staggered to his feet and crept along behind the small group.

They laid Rimmic Karst on the stone altar and a group of priests circled around and began to whisper their prayers.

“But you promised me,” Rimmic groaned, his resolve breaking. “You promised me I would see my wife again. I have done everything you asked.”

“You will see your wife again. In the next life,” the priest said.

“But I did all that you asked.”

“You have been a faithful servant.” The priest laid his hand on Rimmic’s head and spoke in a soothing tone. “You must understand there is no greater power than that of sacrifice. The life of an ordinary person is worth very little. Aside from your son, yours is the greatest sacrifice that can be given to our god. Your spirit will be added to his and multiplied many times over.”

“Not my son,” Rimmic whimpered. “This is not his fault.”

“You made him our king, and therefore as our god’s highest adherent, his would be the greatest sacrifice of all.” The priest produced a knife and held it high above his head. The moonlight glinted on its blade. “But take heart. If your gift to our god is sufficient, we will not need him at all. In a way, you are saving his life.”

The blade flashed down. Rimmic Karst screamed. And then silence.

Pedric drew his knife and rose to his feet, but he got no further. The moment his father’s life fled from his body the power of the Ice King returned. He felt it envelope him, surge through him, and with it a renewed, unwavering sense of purpose.

He must kill Shanis Malan.