Chapter One
I stand near the aquamarine shoals and gaze at
the white stone Lighthouse of Varkir; the shade of palms falls over me and
affords some protection from the blistering suns. A collection of tents, huts,
and shelters sprawls through corridors covered in white arches. Hanging above
me are tapestries identifying the names of the different hallways that comprise
this grand bazaar.
“Does this place have a name?” I ask Talen.
“It’s the Varkir Souk,” he says. “It’s one of
the largest because of Varkir’s position on the shipping lanes. Varkir’s a
great port. If you linger in the coffee shops you can find out the current
events in every corner of the world.”
“I don’t much drink coffee,” I say.
Talen shrugs. “You might want to give it a try.
It’s thick and sweet; you might like it.”
He and I negotiate the myriad shops bypassing
vendors hocking enchanted amulets and food kiosks brimming with the exotic scents
made by foreign herbs and spices. We arrive at an outdoor plaza adjacent to an
oasis of palms, ferns, and fruit trees.
I see so many faces talking, arguing, and
bargaining for melons, grains, hashish, and other things that the din lulls me
into a false security: we move unnoticed. The refugees from Soulwarden (now a
week’s journey to the north) are still flowing into Varkir and have been for a
couple days now. They occupy most of the tents on the outskirts of the city and
near the entrance to the park where Talen pauses to peel a grapefruit.
“What are we looking for exactly?” I ask Talen.
“One second,” he says, dividing the fruit into
sections and offering me some.
I swallow a slice, it tastes quite refreshing.
Talen and I both wear linen robes; turbans
crown our heads. We bought our outfits from a tailor on our first day. Talen
thought it best to try and blend-in even though our ivory skin is easily spotted
here. While we’re out scouting the city for a means to contact the church, Angelaria’s
in a house of healing getting treated for the crimes the Timeron knight,
Mordred, inflicted upon her. That and she’s getting some much needed rest.
I hope
she’s doing okay.
What happened to all of us in Soulwarden was
nothing short of nightmarish, and I’m choosing to overlook the manipulations,
the backstabbing, and the coercion. In a way, I’m no better than her. I
promised to pay her back for the gold I cost her when Talen and I botched her
job back in Clothol. By not keeping that promise, I brought a whole world of
hurt down upon myself. I’ve no one to blame really. But there’s a lesson here:
always keep your word. Because I failed in doing so, I can’t blame Angelaria.
This is especially true since she saved Talen and me from a wall of lava. Not
to mention that she never said anything about us to her captors. That’s two
things in her favor. I’d be a fool not to forgive her.
Before Talen speaks, a call to prayer rings out
over the city. I’ve heard this sound five times a day since we arrived.
I listen in reverence to its melodious, almost
mournful sound. Many of those around us pause and unroll small carpets upon the
ground. Before long, they supplicate themselves, bowing to the distant east
where the suns break the horizon each morning.
“Should we be doing that?” I ask.
“To fit in?” Talen asks, inspecting a slice of
grapefruit. He quickly eats it and then moves into the park, which grows around
a large pool filled with reeds. Luxurious ferns and palm trees reach toward the
sky. Colorful birds flit from branch to branch and alight upon limbs bursting
with foliage and white flowers.
“Yes. To fit in,” I answer, dogging his heels.
He shakes his head. “No. Do you see an obelisk
anywhere?”
The heady scent of perfume from all the flowers
teases my nostrils. “What’s an obelisk?”
Talen blinks and swats a bee away from his
face. “It looks like a pillar but has a pointy top. Kind of like a pyramid only
upright with flat vertical sides. They’re built to celebrate Arioch who--”
“Rides the chariot of the suns across the sky
each morning. Yes, I know,” I say, “I’m not that
thick. I know a few things about the gods.”
“Did you know that song we hear five times a
day is for him?”
I shake my head. “I didn’t know that actually.”
Talen claps me on the shoulder. “Well you’ve
learned something then; I think I see it. Let’s go this way.”
Talen and I emerge from under a growth of ferns
that towers over the glen. Near the toe of my boots lays a ring of blue stones
and a statue of a hawk-headed god. “Arioch,” Talen mutters. “But over there…that’s an obelisk.”
I follow his finger and see a twenty-five foot
tall by six-foot square monolith jutting from the sands of the park. It has
writing on every surface; it’s some kind of ancient hieroglyphic that I of course can’t read.
Talen strides up to the base. I look around to
see if we’ve drawn any attention to ourselves. But we stand alone in this cool
and shaded area despite the fact that many footprints indicate much traffic at
all times of the day and night.
“There’s the symbol!” Talen exclaims. “Third
row down from the top and almost obscured by the cartouche of Arioch.”
“A dagger lying in a pool of blood,” I murmur.
“What does it mean?”
He raises his eyebrows. “It’s the symbol of
Tethyr.”
I roll my eyes. “I know it’s the symbol of
Tethyr.”
“Then why did you ask what it meant? Oh,” Talen
says, thinking of something else to say. “Luminara and I had discussions when
you were…well…sleeping. Part of that involved the secret network for the Gray
Warder that’s in place around the world.”
I know by “sleeping” he means “suffering in
drug rehab.” But Talen wants to sidestep that whole dark episode in our lives,
and I don’t particularly blame him. It’s a difficult time in our relationship
and truthfully, it’s had lasting consequences on me. For example, I’ve to
struggle to eat, and I force myself to do so mostly out of devotion to Tethyr
and the sacred responsibility I have to maintain my body as a vessel worthy of His power. I don’t tell Talen that I’m
having these kinds of challenges. I know he blames himself for everything, and
I don’t want to make it any worse.
“What kind of discussions?” I ask him.
“Mostly about you. But those that weren’t about you involved our church:
how corrupt it’s gotten and what kind of support there is for assassins and
thieves doing Tethyr’s work. In nearly every city of significant size there’s a
small conclave of Tethyrites that stays connected to the topmost tier of our theocracy.
That means Luminara, in case you’re wondering. They maintain a temple or some
kind of gathering place to disseminate information. Each is near one of these
things, but only if the structure is marked by the holy symbol of the Gray
Warder. You follow?”
I nod. “Somewhere near here is an entrance,
right?”
“Exactly. We’ve things to pass on to Luminara
before we head west through the mountains, and we might learn things regarding
our path forward.”
“Right,” I say with eyes flitting from pond, to
branch, to tree. “So where do we begin looking?”
“Not where,” Talen says, “but when. We come
back here when Valinas is full tonight.”
Valinas is one of the many moons of Wynwrayth.
It’s called the “Blood Mother” because of its reddish appearance that harkens
it to a droplet of blood torn from the heavens.
“Luminara said that the doorway would be
visible to a true worshiper of the Gray Warder under the light of the blood
moon. So we come back here tonight while Angelaria rests. We find it, get
inside, and deliver our information.”
I nod. “It’s several hours before dark….”
He grins lasciviously, “I’m sure we can find
something to fill the time, lover.” Then he kisses me, and his breath smells
like fresh grapefruit. It’s quite nice. We go back to our room at the edge of
the bay and make love most of the afternoon.
Night comes early.
Talen and I dress in black silk Shinobi
Shozokus, and they cover us from head to toe. Then we wait.
After an hour, we take to the rooftops of the
city to avoid the guard patrols that walk the Varkir Souk. We drop silent as
cats from a three-story balcony and scamper across to the park, ducking the
light of torches, and clinging to the shadows of benches, pillars, and walls.
The air quickly cools. The heat rising from the
ground feels comfortable through my tabi boots. Above the highest palm trees,
the midnight blue sky is filled with bright twinkling stars.
Near the obelisk, the blood moon rises just
above the city wall. Its red light casts a long shadow on the far side of the
monolith. There, in the black inkiness above the sand, I spot a doorway. Talen
reaches it first.
“I love magic,” I whisper to him.
He nods and gets the door open using his
fingers to ply at the outline, which we can now discern quite easily. It
scrapes open sending a shower of sand pelting down upon smooth black steps. A
flight of stairs descends before us, lit at the bottom by magical smokeless
torches. The walls and ceiling are carved from some kind of ebony granite. At
the bottom we find another stone door. The symbol of Tethyr is raised upon its
surface, this time with a circle of red tile and molten silver poured into the
shape of a blade.
Talen raps on it with his knuckles.
“What’s the password?” a voice querries from
the other side.
“Bloodbane,” Talen replies.
“The password is the name of the sword of
rogues?” I ask, voice barely a whisper.
He shrugs. “It’s important to more than just
you. Although I’d like to see you wield it, people have lusted for its power
for centuries.”
Another grinding noise and the door slides out
of the way. There in front of me is a fellow peering out at us from a stone
chamber lit by more of the smokeless torches. There’s a corridor that extends
behind him. Some cells (currently empty) stand open, their iron gates free of
rust. I also spot several large clay vases on one side of the room underneath
shelves holding various statuaries. There are voices down this hallway: two men
playing cards with a third? Despite this place being underground, the air’s
fresh and cool.
“Come in,” he says. “Where are you from?”
The speaker has a short crop of whiskers about
his chin, a bulbous nose that’s somehow too large for his skinny face, but
bright black eyes.
Talen takes off his Shozoku mask and unwinds
the cloth from around his neck and shoulders. He exposes the brilliant tattoo
on his neck in doing so. I follow suit and note that the man’s eyes widen
significantly. “You’re Tiburon and Hunter. We’ve heard of you.”
“In just three days?” I scoff.
The skinny man shrugs and offers us some water
from a pitcher on a table. I accept but Talen defers. “News travels fast. What
did you find in the preceptor’s manse? Anything of use to us? Is the church of
Zandine our enemy now?”
“Yes,” Talen states, “on both accounts. Hunter
found the demon responsible, but Tethyr abjured him on the night Tempest
Mountain exploded.”
“Shame that happened,” the man says. “The explosion
and not the abjuration, that is. I’m Luck,” he says extending his hand. I grip it firmly and then Talen does the
same.
“I don’t think I’d ever play cards with someone
named Luck,” I remark.
That makes the man grin. I see he’s missing one
front tooth. “That’s why I’m answering the door for you fellas and not playing
poker with my mates. I’ll send what you just told me up the line. Truthfully,
we suspected as much. That witch Kahket has been cozying up to the Timeron army
for so long, we wondered if Zanda had somehow gotten embroiled in the Valion
war. It looks like now we have our answer. Just between you and I, as we tend
to be Valion supporters I thought it was just a matter of time before we found
ourselves at a crossroads with the Israfil of Zanda. I can tell you from
experience you don’t want to be on the bad side of the israfil. But I guess at
this point it’s all spilt milk. No use crying over it.” He pauses a second to
scratch his chin. “Where are you fellas off to once you leave Varkir?”
“West,” I say, “into the Icewall Mountains.”
“We’re going after the sacred sword,” Talen
finishes.
Luck sits down in a chair regarding us both
with sparkling eyes. “There’s been plenty that have gone after that sucker
quest, some more experienced and much older than you boys. Have you got all the
pieces? Rumors say Constantine holds two of ’em and he ain’t the kind to
share.”
“Constantine’s dead,” I say. “I killed him
after the Guildhouse of Assassins fell down around our ears. It happened
shortly after Zandine appeared and then transformed into flesh before our eyes.”
“Kahket used some kind of potion,” Talen adds.
“Even Tethyr seemed to be helpless to do anything.”
“I’ll be damned,” Luck states. “Constantine
dead and now this as well? Don’t get me wrong, son. I shared no love for the
Nightshade, but I never thought a boy like you could get the better of him. All
the more power to you, for he was as wicked as they come. I just hope you made
sure he was good and dead before you left. Otherwise, I guarantee he’ll come
after you. He’s not the forgiving type.”
“Trust me,” I say, “I made certain of that. I
can tell a corpse from a living, breathing man.”
“So it’s true,” Luck says, switching topics. “A
real flesh and blood god now walks the earth. This is bad, boys. Very bad. No
wonder Luminara wants you to find the sword. She must have a lot of confidence
in you.”
“Why’s that?” I ask. “I-I mean, I didn’t know
she really supported my quest.”
“Bloodbane’s the only thing that can kill a
flesh and blood god,” Luck says. “Maybe she plans on having you do just that,
once you got the right equipment to make it happen.”
“Fascinating,” Talen says. “Actually, I’ll go
ahead and take a glass of water. My throat’s parched.” Luck grins and pours
some cool water into a clay cup and hands it to my boyfriend.
“So, you think I can kill a god?” I press.
Luck smiles. “If it’s flesh, it can bleed,
right? I’m no expert on divinity, but I’d wager that’s exactly what’s in store
for you if you manage to retrieve the ‘sword of rogues.’ I’d love to be young
again and to have that chance…to make a name for myself and get all the perks
that go along with that.”
“What kind of perks?” I ask.
Luck pours himself a glass and wets his throat.
“Oceans of fresh young pussy,” he says.
I giggle and hold out my clay cup. Luck quietly
refills it. “I’ll drink to that,” I say. I tap my cup to Talen’s, and we both have
a swallow in appreciation of my toast.
“You boys need to be careful once you leave
Varkir,” Luck adds. “Head straight for the Stairway to Heaven and don’t deviate
from that path. The Icewall Mountains are crawling with war ghuls unleashed
upon the Valion knight strongholds by the Israfil of Zanda, most likely at the
behest of the Timeron knight armies led by General Calisto. There’s been black
magic going on in those mountains for months. The accursed israfil have raided
sacred barrow mounds from here to Bakora to mine corpses to transform into those
monsters.”
“What’s that?” Talen asks.
“What’s what?” Luck replies. “The Stairway to Heaven
or the war ghuls?”
“Both I suppose,” Talen replies.
“The war ghuls are carnivores raised from human
dead through magic so foul it sours the soil for a thousand years. They can mutate
their bodies and combine bones, flesh, and sinew to create longer limbs and
stronger muscles. Bands of them roam the mountains terrorizing villages and
drawing the Valion knights down from their strongholds. As awful as that
sounds, however, word is that something even darker happened up there in the
last few weeks…something so terrible no one dares speak of it. Whatever
occurred happened near one of the Valion keeps that overlooks the pass through
the mountains. The war ghuls won’t dare climb the Stairway after that. They
shun it in fact. For whatever reason, if you get caught by a pack of ’em, it’s
best that you make your way to the top of the Stairway and hope for the best. I
don’t care how skilled you are, an entire pack of war ghuls will finish you in
ways I care not describe.”
“And what exactly is the Stairway?” I ask,
trying desperately to ignore the chill that’s just thrummed down my spine. “You
promised to explain that.”
“It’s a waterfall, largest one you’ve ever
seen. It lies due west of here three days into the mountains. Follow the trails
alongside the River Morgoth. You’ll know it when you see it. Damn thing rises
so high that it definitely earns its namesake.”
I look to Talen. “Shall we leave in the
morning?”
“Angelaria says she’ll be ready by then,” he
replies, handing Luck an empty cup.
I hand mine to Luck as well. “Tell Luminara
I’ll be in touch when I have the sword,” I say.
“I’m sure it goes without sayin’,” Luck says, “but
I’ll forward your word to the high priestess. And may Tethyr’s speed be with
you both. I think you’re going to need it.”
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