The Tomni'Tai Scroll (Book 1) (34 page)

The old elf startled and turned to regard Talon curiously. “L’gorech, what are you doing here?”

Talon said nothing as he slid the bolt into the lock.

“If you are looking for your uncle, he isn’t here. I prefer not to have my lunch with half-wits.” He dabbed the corner of his mouth with a napkin and then offered, “Though I do thank him for sending this bottle of wine. It is exquisitely delicious.”

“I am looking for you, Jahre,” Talon replied sourly. He walked to the old elf and delighted as he watched Jahre’s confused face. The elf’s golden eyes darted up and down, trying to discern who Talon was. Then, as it dawned on him, Jahre’s mouth fell open and he sucked in a breath.

“So, you have finally come,” Jahre said. Jahre started to move his left hand, and then stopped. He knitted his brow and looked down to his hand.

“What’s wrong?” Talon asked. “Can’t move your hand?”

“So,” Jahre said, his voice softer and weaker now. “You have become faster, stronger,
and
smarter.”

Talon nodded and stopped directly in front of Jahre. He reached up and pulled his wig off and set it on the table next to Jahre’s plate of venison and potatoes. “You are paralyzed from the neck down.”

“How?” Jahre asked.

“Forgive me,” Uloren pleaded from behind. “I had no choice.”

Jahre sucked in his quivering lower lip before daring to ask. “How did he coerce you?”

“He has my son,” the servant said. “He told me he would kill him unless I helped put the potion into your drink. He told me to say that it was from L’gorech and his uncle.”

“It’s a special brew,” Talon said proudly. “It comes from a wickedly wild flower that grows near my home village.”

“The hist rose,” Jahre said.

Talon nodded. “It’s a wondrous plant. It looks like a blue rose. However, if you go to pick it, the thorns contain a toxin that paralyzes most anything smaller than a bear. Then, the flower reveals its true form and the buds open and latch onto the paralyzed victim’s body, sucking his blood like a spider.”

“But you gave Uloren the antidote before so he could test it without becoming paralyzed,” Jahre said. “Clever.”

“No,” Talon replied. “That is why your servant stands very still next to you. He is just as paralyzed as you are.”

“You said if I helped you, you would release my son,” Uloren said. “I put the serum in the wine like you said.”

Talon nodded. “He is safe. You will find him in L’gorech’s basement. He is bound to a pole, but otherwise unharmed.” Talon sneered. “You ought to have taught him to pick better friends than a lazy, arrogant do-nothing like L’gorech,” Talon chided.

“You killed L’gorech?” Jahre asked.

“The city will be better off without him. Consider it a favor,” Talon replied.

“Let me go,” the servant begged.

Talon shook his head and pulled out a small vial of clear fluid. “The hist rose toxin will not release its hold on your muscles for several days, but here is the antidote. I am sure you will be found sometime later today, at which point whoever finds you can administer the antidote. However, I will be long gone by then.”

Uloren opened his mouth and tried to scream for help, but only a hoarse whisper emerged from his throat.

“Oh, the toxin restrains all of your muscles, so while you can speak in hushed tones you won’t be able to yell for help. Since you drank the toxin you will just have to wait until your rescue comes, but that is the risk you take as a wine-tester right?” Talon smirked.

“You were not supposed to see what happened that day,” Jahre said.

Talon’s face grew tight and flushed. “Is that supposed to make it better?” he hissed. “You killed my father, over nothing!”

“You don’t understand. I had to do it.”

“I watched you summon Khefir and feed him my father’s soul. You did more than murder, you condemned his soul to Hammenfein.”

“It was the price Khefir demanded,” Jahre countered.

“For what?” Talon growled. He grabbed Jahre’s fork and reached across the table to yank the old, wrinkled elf out from his chair and pressed the sliver-plated tines into Jahre’s cheek. “It was his price for what?”

“I had to give Khefir a life, in order to protect a life,” Jahre said.

“Your own, I presume?” Talon growled.

Jahre’s eyes filled with tears. “No,” he said. “I killed your father and gave him to Khefir in order to purchase redemption for your soul,” he said defiantly. “I know you will kill me, but you must listen to me first.”

Talon shoved him back into his chair and fumed at him. “What are you talking about? Saving my soul? I wasn’t in any danger, until you came along!”

“Let me explain,” Jahre said.

Talon shook his head. “No, I have had enough. You will spin any lie if you think it will save your skin. You deal with demons, and devils, there is no way for me to trust you. Tell me where the scroll is.”

“The scroll?” Jahre repeated.

“The Tomni’Tai Scroll, where is it?”

A tear slid down Jahre’s cheek. “You were not supposed to see it,” he repeated. “You were not supposed to become so spiteful and full of hate.”

Talon came in hard and fast again and grabbed Jahre by the shoulders. “Tell me where it is, or I will kill your servant right now.”

“Just, tell me what you intend to do with the scroll,” Jahre begged.

“I intend to kill Basei,” Talon replied coldly.

“You think you can slay a demigod?” Uloren asked incredulously.

“Then,” Jahre began, “there may still be a chance for all of us, and for you.”

Talon reached over and grabbed the meat knife from the table. “Tell me now or I will kill your servant.”

“The scroll is not the only relic you will need to open the Netherworld Gate,” Jahre said.

“I know that already. Let me worry about the other items. All I need from you is the scroll.”

“No, don’t help him,” the servant said with a sudden burst of courage. “He will kill us all if he opens the gate.”

“We are dead anyway if he doesn’t,” Jahre countered.

Talon paused and eased Jahre back into the chair a bit. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“As a sage, I have the ability to see the future, in a limited fashion. Centuries ago I foresaw that Lemork, the ancient king of the dark elves, would unite his clans to slay Basei and take his power. That is why we waged war against the dark elves, to stop this from happening. I had seen that if Lemork succeeded in killing Basei, our world would end. I had many visions of something I call the End War, a great battle in which the entire world is threatened by a battle between gods. In order for us to survive this war, we would need the balance of power to be in our favor. I saw that if Lemork killed Basei, and himself became a demigod, he would align himself with the gods that sought to destroy Terramyr, and we would lose the End War. The entire world would be destroyed, and the souls in both heaven and hell would be torn asunder and turned into ash. There would be only death everlasting.”

“So you banished the Sierri’Tai to the Netherworld to prevent this?” Talon guessed.

“Precisely, but it was not long before I knew we were not safe. I soon had visions of Basei aligning himself with the same powers in the End War and we still lost. All of our sacrifices made during the war with the dark elves, and the sins upon my head for banishing their entire race through the Netherworld Gate appeared to be for naught, until I had a vision of a hero, one who could save us from our horrid fate.”

“Get to the part about why you thought it was necessary to kill my father,” Talon snarled.

“I had a vision, only once, but it was the most vivid vision I ever had. A soul sat on a razor’s edge. Half of him in shadow, half in the light. He was torn between good and evil. I watched Khefir come and claim the soul and take him to Hammenfein. This soul asked me for help, and once I freed him he became strong and slew Basei. Then, when the End War came, he stood tall against Terramyr’s enemies and he slew them with a mighty sword hewn from a dragon’s spine.”

Talon shook his head. “I have heard enough,” he said. “You are mad.” Talon stood up, towering over Jahre and took the elf’s hair in his left hand as he put the knife to the elf’s neck. “Two weeks after you killed my father, half of the other families left my village. They took with them many of our best warriors. They left because without my father, they felt vulnerable. Three days after they left, the orcs came to slaughter us. My mother prayed to Basei for help, pleaded with him to come to our aid and smite our enemies.” A tear formed and hung from the corner of Talon’s left eye for a moment before jumping off and hitting the floor. “Basei came down in a cloud of fire and destroyed the orcs. I shouted and cheered as I watched fire falling from the sky and Basei wiped the orcs from our lands.” Talon bent down, putting his nose against Jahre’s so he could watch the elf’s golden eyes.

“Then, when the orcs turned and ran, Basei turned on us and slaughtered everyone. I survived by hiding in the well, but when I emerged everyone else was dead. I found my mother near our smoldering house. The god she had prayed to for help killed her with his own hand. So you can go on about your End War if you want to, but I do not care. The Tomni’Tai Scroll will allow me to control the dark elves that you wrongfully banished. I will free them, and then they will help me dethrone the murdering demigod who betrayed my mother.”

“There is still hope for you,” Jahre whispered. “You are destined for greatness, but you must give up your hate.”

Talon shook Jahre roughly. “Tell me where the scroll is!”

“Don’t tell him,” the servant said.

“Talon released Jahre and went for the servant. He put him down with a quick thrust of the knife and watched as the lifeless body fell to the floor.

“Talon, your father would be ashamed of you, and what you have become,” Jahre said. Tears streamed down his face now.

“Don’t you talk of my father,” Talon growled. “You know nothing of him!”

“Yes I do,” Jahre said defiantly. “He was my son.”

Talon stood silently for a moment before shaking his head vigorously. “No, you’re lying, you’re trying to fool me. Just give me the scroll!”

“Think back, Talon,” Jahre coaxed. “Your mother didn’t run after us that day. Why do you think that was?”

Talon slammed his fist on the table. “Stop!”

“It was your father’s idea. He offered to sacrifice himself to Khefir so that you might become something more than he or I could. He saw the greatness in you.”

“No,” Talon yelled. He put the bloody knife to Jahre’s throat.

“You must remember, he and I were arguing that day, before we left the house. Surely you remember something. He summoned me from my home to perform the sacrifice.”

Talon kept shaking his head. “My father would never have left my mother to die,” Talon argued.

“No,” Jahre admitted. “He wouldn’t have. But he didn’t know that would happen, neither did I. That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“But it did happen,” Talon shot back. “You took my father, and because of you I also lost my mother. I was left alone in a burnt village filled with my dead friends. You did that to me.” Talon pressed the knife into Jahre’s neck just enough so Jahre winced. “Where is the scroll?”

Jahre blinked away the tears. “It is in my left boot.”

Talon reached a hand down and pulled a wooden cylinder from the boot and set it on the table. There were no markings on the wood, and no obvious way to open it. “How does it open?” Talon asked.

“Only with the other relics,” Jahre replied. The walls and floor shook violently and a deafening, thunderous rumbling rolled through the chamber. Jahre’s eyes went wide with surprise.

Talon smirked. “Our time is up.”

“What was that?” Jahre asked.

“I made a surprise with one of the underground gas lines,” Talon replied. “It should keep everyone busy enough for me to escape.”

“You sabotaged L’gorech’s house,” Jahre surmised.

“I did,” Talon admitted. “I opened a gas leak and set a few candles in strategic places.”

“So my servant’s son is also dead then, I suppose, since you said he was tied up in the basement.”

Talon shrugged. “He should have picked a better friend.” Talon bent down and pulled his pant leg up to reveal a small glass jar tied to his calf, just above the ankle. He untied the jar and set it in front of Jahre.

Jahre eyed the blue flower inside and closed his eyes. “I still believe you can make this right,” Jahre said. “There is still some good in you.”

“No,” Talon whispered as he opened the lid. “You killed everything good in me. You sucked it out, like a spider.” Talon placed the open jar on Jahre’s lap. “Soon it will recognize its toxin in your blood and it will extend its stem to attach to you.” Talon stood and took the scroll, tucking it into the back of his waistband.

“I will fight for you,” Jahre promised. “I refuse to believe that your father’s sacrifice was in vain.”

Talon regarded the old elf once more. The hist rose slowly snaked out of the jar and latched onto Jahre’s exposed hand. Jahre’s eyes went wide as it attached and began to pull against his skin. Talon smiled. “That particular flower grew on my mother’s grave.” Talon turned and started for the door. “If you’ll excuse me, I have an army to liberate and a demigod to kill.”