Mortals & Deities (19 page)

The smell of excitement wafted from the boy and Klain tensed, knowing the boy was about to do something foolish—something that would not end well for him. Flexing his claws, Klain decided he would let the boy make the first move before he—

As Klain suspected, the boy’s hand reached for his sword. Yet, his motion became nothing more than a blur. Snarling, Klain reached out to grab the boy’s skinny throat only to stop short when the tip of the young man’s blade pressed against his jugular. Looking down, he marveled at how fast the boy had moved. “How did you…”

Rohann stepped forward with both his hands raised in front of him. “Stay your hand, now. Both of you! There is no reason for this to turn to bloodshed.” He glanced at the black-skinned man who returned with a caution that showed his surprise at this turn of events, too. “Is this how you handle all your clients, Master De’haln? Threatening them at sword point?”

The black man chuckled to himself and looked at the boy with affection. “Nix, Master Vimith. And I do apologize to you. Though, it seems your Kithian do underestimate who he be dealing with.”

Rohann placed a hand upon Klain’s arm and tried to pull him away. When Klain failed to move, his master slid his body further between the two and looked Klain in the eyes. “Master Klain. There is no reason to stay here. It is obvious these men do not wish to be employed. Back away.” He raised his hand and pointed to the street. “
Now
.” His voice firm, he meant to have no argument.

Klain pulled his upper lip back, exposing his fangs once more. “Do not think I will forget you,
boy
.” Taking a step away, he turned his back to the men and stalked from the courtyard. Never had he been bested so easily! He raged within the cage of his mind, and it took all his force of will not to go berserk. Reason told him that rash action would only put his master in harms way without accomplishing what they had set out to do. Remembering his charge, he glanced over his shoulder without breaking stride. Rohann still spoke to the two men. The boy had put away his sword, though he stared after Klain. Coming to a stop, he turned and glared back at the boy, flexing and extending his sharp claws. Finally, in what looked to be a civilized exchange, his master turned and jogged to catch Klain up.

He let Rohann pass him while he continued to stare at the young Human with the sword.

Nix! I will
never
forget you, boy!

As the days wore on, Elith found it harder and harder to stay cognizant of her surroundings. It was as if her memory loss, which had not plagued her while she sailed from Komar, was making up for it now by happening more and more. She had attempted to go out that first eve in search of the Mah’Sukai.
Attempted
was the appropriate word, for she lost all knowledge of whom or where she was before she even left the villa.

Thank the gods she injured no one that time.

Anger welled up in her over her thought.

Where do these feelings of concern come from? She is growing weak! She must find a way of ridding herself of these emotions.

Without violence that time, the priests coaxed her back to her room for the rest of the eve. The next day, a Shaper, also a member of the Inner Sanctum, came to see her. She tried to explain to Varin that his efforts would be wasted. A Shaper could not meld her essence—could not even see it!—she did not know why.

Once the Shaper verified this, the man left. From that point forward, the priests confined her to her rooms. Finally, she realized that Varin did not intend to allow her out of the villa until he received a message back from the Revered Father on how to proceed. With time against her, she decided she could wait no longer. She had to find the Mah’Sukai before she lost herself to her madness. So she began sneaking out without their knowledge.

That was four nights gone and this eve would be no different.

“She thanks you, Sirran.” Elith moved to the bed and lay down. From the corner of her eye, she watched the slim serving girl curtsy before she picked up the empty tray of dishes. “Tell the priests that she is not to be disturbed again this eve. She is still not feeling well from the voyage and wishes a full night’s rest.”

Sirran curtsied once more at the door. “I will pass on your instructions, Shikalu.” Slipping from the chambers, she closed the door behind her.

Allowing half an aurn to pass to ensure that Varin would not give her one final check, she slipped into her black leather suit and strapped on her belt pouch and knives. Black, soft leather boots and tight fitting gloves went on next. Over all this, she tied the Shadow Cloak about her and raised its hood. Picking up her Ratave staff, she slipped it into its holding sleeve at the base of her spine and strode to the large open window. Four stories separated her from the ground below, yet she took little notice. Hopping up onto the window ledge, she spun and jumped, catching the head of some stone creature that sat above her window with one hand. Without effort, she pulled herself up until she slipped the fingers of her free hand over the lip of the roof above. Within moments, she crouched low on the tilting roof. Rolling to a kneeling position, she looked out over the city. The tiny yellow moon, Treynor, had just broken the horizon, and its pale yellow light cascaded over the tops of the buildings like the rays of a distant, dying sun. With no more pause than that, she rose and ran, sprinting with all her speed across the ridge of the villa. Reaching the far side, she leapt out into the open night air. Wind whistled past her as the ground raced up to catch her. Whipping out an arm, her hand smacked the limb of a hardwood tree and she used it to redirect her momentum and shoot herself to the side. Hitting the ground with both feet, she tucked into a ball, rolled twice, and ended in a crouch. The surrounding area remained as silent as her escape from the villa had been.

Flattening herself against the wall, she slid her way to the exit, avoiding the few pools of light cast by the odd oil lamp that hung from a pole. She slipped out into a side alleyway that ran between several villas and ghosted deeper into the city.

They called the part of the city where the villa sat Old Town. Many influential people of Mocley lived in the area so the villas and manor homes were large and palatial. This also meant more oil lamps lit the streets and more groups of guards. Not that this gave Elith anything to worry about. Even if someone did see her, which so long as she stayed in darkness her Shadow Cloak ensured they would not, she would appear like any other lone traveler wrapped in a cloak. Besides, she would not be hunting in this section of the city this eve.

Her search was not going as well as she had hoped. When they had sailed near to land, and the sensation of the Mah’Sukai’s nearness filled her head, she had thought that she would have him that very eve. This, unfortunately, had not been the case. The sensation remained in the back of her head as strong as it had been that first day. It gave her no direction, however.

She must get closer. That is what the Father said.

So, with no course other than to roam the streets of one of the largest cities on Talic’Nauth, Elith wandered. She had never before been enamored with buildings, however, everywhere she looked in this great city, the architecture was impressive. Large brick and stone buildings filled almost every part of it. In the three nights she had spent combing the streets and alleyways searching for her target, she had seen great domed structures, some eight or ten stories high. Massive spires, serving no functional purpose that she saw, stretched even higher. The great Coliseum, surrounded by pillars so thick it would take three men to wrap themselves around them, mocked the paintings she had studied back home. They did nothing to capture its grandeur. Parks of such tranquil beauty, placed at random, kept her sitting in them longer than she intended. Great fountains and statues. And the people. Even in the late aurns of eve, she saw more people in this one city than she thought lived on all the combined isles of Komar.

Although, all that paled in her eyes once she saw the Great Palintium. Wide boulevards led up to the massive stairways that let out onto a great patio surrounding the entire structure. Larger than life statues, masterfully carved from granite or marble or alabaster, lined the area, depicting all Twelve Gods of Man. Tall colored-glass windows decorated even taller steeples and spires, each depicting a scene from the Book of the Twelve in such vivid detail, she imagined herself inside them, watching the event unfold around her. The building that paid homage to the Twelve reached up to the very heavens.

The almost indescribable sight moved her. She stood looking at it from the shadows across the boulevard with tears streaming down her cheeks for several aurns the first eve she had discovered it. She did not dare enter—she would not shame herself to the gods with the turmoil rotting her mind.

And if the gods would be anywhere, they would be there in that magnificent Palintium!

This eve she would not see the Palintium, however. She would not even enter the area of town that was blessed to house it. Instead, since she had had no luck searching the better districts, she planned to search the Warehouse District. She could not fathom why someone as powerful as the Mah’Sukai would stay in such a shabby, shady area with all the splendors this city had to offer elsewhere. Still, she had to search somewhere.

As Elith walked the dark streets, the lump in the back of her head remained a constant reminder that the Mah’Sukai was just beyond her reach. Wrapped in this chaos, her bouts of memory loss were becoming more and more frequent. At least a few times each eve while she roamed, she would have an episode. Thank the gods nothing had come of any of them other than finding herself disoriented for a short period. The episodes had not grown in length—though she did not trust her judgment on this. Still, the memory losses scared her more than anything she had ever faced.

Why do they keep happening?

The first had happened after the Father had placed his Questing upon her. Had he caused this to happen to her for some purpose only he knew? Why? After all his support for her over her life, why do this to her now as she went out to fulfill her one mission? Had she failed him in some way in the past? Did he wish for her to fail in her task now?

And the thought of her not returning to Komar once the Mah’Sukai was captured—where had that come from? Could it be that once she left Komar, a chain had been removed from around her throat? A chain she had not realized was there. Yet, now she knew—was aware that, even with all her privileges, she was nothing more than a slave to the priests, like those she had trained on. The worst part of this, the part that tormented her every waking thought, was that she was bothered by any of it at all. That it even concerned her.

A tool should not care how it is used!

These…
feelings
. They were almost as much of a concern to her as the bouts of memory loss. Why did they plague her? She saw them for what they were—a weakness. Still, she could not shake them. Jarill’s bodiless head still held a mocking smile each time she thought of him. The Battle Priest Srit Gowan, gasping for the air he knew he would never taste again, still looked at her with his accusing eyes. Why did these deaths upset her? She had killed dozens of people. That is what she was—a weapon meant to kill. To send those who deserved their fate on to the Aftermore for the gods to judge. She felt lost, confused, scared. These were things she had never before felt. She wanted to run, to hide. Was this why she had thoughts of not returning to the Father? That she was afraid he would uncover her weaknesses. Judge
her
failures?

Mayhaps. Still, she could not shake her feelings of weakness. Neither could she shake the feeling that the Father was responsible for them.

“Are you hungry, my dear?”

The woman’s voice shocked Elith out of her inner thoughts. Looking around, she noticed that somehow she had wandered down a dead-end alleyway. The stooped, broken form of an old woman stood in front of her. The filthy rags covering her did not look like they provided much in the way of warmth. A cart covered in some type of slimy meat sat before her. The putrid smell of the meat fought with the stench emanating from the old woman, and Elith suppressed the urge to gag. A yellow dog with one front leg missing at the shoulder and so malnourished each of its ribs were visible, sat at the woman’s feet licking itself. “No. She needs no sustenance at this time.” Turning, Elith headed back to the main street.

A cackling came from the woman. “There are many forms of sustenance, my dear. Not all of them are for the stomach. Some nourish your mind instead.”

The statement sounded so odd, it gave Elith pause and she turned back. “What do you know of the mind?”

A gapped toothed smile sprang to the woman’s face. Bobbing her head, she waved Elith to return. “There are things…Things that may help the storm raging inside your head, my dear.”

Elith tried to breath through her mouth instead of her nose to avoid the stench of the alley. This succeeded some—she no longer felt like gagging—though a vile taste coated the top of her tongue within moments. She stopped a pace from the woman. “How would you know her mind is in turmoil?”

“Mmm. I know many things. Aye, I do.” The old woman prodded the piles of meat around on her tray and the yellow dog stopped licking itself long enough to look up as if expecting a snack. Mumbling to herself, the old hag picked up first one, then another piece, inspecting each before returning them to the tray.

This lack of interest in their conversation grated on Elith. “Do not waste her time, hag. She has things to attend to.”

“Like finding the Mah’Sukai?” Elith edged forward, her eyes locked on this woman covered in muck. The old hag laughed again in her odd way. “Aye, that got your attention, did it not, my dear?” Picking up another slimy piece of meat, she took a bite. Allowing juice to dribble down her chin as she chewed, it fell off and landed at her feet. The lame dog stood and started licking the spot. “As I said, I know many things.”

Elith could not speak. How could this woman—a beggar dressed in rags hidden in a grimy back alley—how could she know who Elith sought?

“I also understand your fears, my dear. The fear that your mind has gone. That you will fail. That the dead will haunt you for the rest of your time on this Plane.” She cackled again as she shoved the last of her decaying morsel into her mouth.

The fact that this woman knew Elith’s most intimate fears…She could not put her shock to words! To have them told to her—brought out in the open and put on display! It was almost more than she could bear. “How do you…” She glared at the old woman through narrowed eyes. “Who are you?”

“Unimportant.” The old woman waved away Elith’s question as if it were a fly. Then a serious look took hold of her and she locked her gaze on Elith. “What is important, my dear, is that you listen to me.” The woman’s tone was harsh and she paused to ensure Elith stayed before continuing. “You
think
you seek out a Mah’Sukai for the betterment of your master. You
think
you are doing your duty. In both of these, you are gravely mistaken. And you will die for your mistake, my dear. Aye, you will die.” Her last words were said in her cackling laugh.

Elith did not fear death. She never had. She knew she had a place in the Aftermore. She served the Twelve and they would provide for her.

“Is that so?” The old woman tilted her head and scrutinized Elith. “What if I were to tell you that you will not pass into the Aftermore? That you will never see that Plane of existence? Hmm?”