Scales of the Serpent

6

Astrogha was a demon of ambitions. He had sat near the taloned hand of Diablo, the greatest of the Prime Evils, and had learned well. It had always chafed him to be subservient to Lucion, but then Lucion had actually been the son of Mephisto so there had been little he could do about it.

But Lucion acted strange of late. In his persona of the Primus, the archdemon had always done things in a certain manner, but since his return from some mysterious foray, that had changed. Had Astrogha not known better, he would have sworn that it was no longer the son of Mephisto who sat upon the Primus’s throne. That was impossible, surely, for who could ever masquerade as Lucion?

The demon shifted in his shadowed web, located now in one of the high towers of the Triune’s supreme temple. Astrogha had chosen the one dedicated to Dialon, naturally, that being the spirit who was, in fact, his master, Diablo. Around the brooding demon crawled his “children,” sinister black spiders of every size, some as big as a man’s head.

Astrogha was a demon of many incarnations, many shapes. For this moment, he wore a form both arachnid and human, a macabre mix of the two. He now had eight limbs, broader and thicker than any spider, which could be used as arms or legs, depending on circumstance. All ended in clawed digits perfect for rending soft flesh, the better to stuff it into a maw with not only fangs, but jagged teeth that looked as if they had been filed. Astrogha’s torso was generally humanoid in design, but rounder and broader at the shoulder. He could make it otherwise, should the mood suit him.

Atop his head were eight more smaller limbs, each ending in human hands. They were good for dragging prey closer to his mouth and for plucking tiny vermin from his black-furred body for the occasional snack in between.

His eyes were crimson orbs clustered together, each lacking any pupil. With them, Astrogha saw in almost every direction and beyond the sight of most mortals or even demons. With them, in fact, he could see back somewhat into the Burning Hells, where he would now and then report to his lord and master.

Astrogha was overdue to give such a report. He did not like stirring Lord Diablo’s ire, for it would be a simple thing for the great demon to reach out from beyond to squash Astrogha like a bug.

The arachnid had hesitated to report because he was still trying to assess the change in Lucion. If Lucion was no longer fit to command, then someone would rightly have to step in and take his place…but that would prove difficult, considering Mephisto’s role in this. The other Prime Evil would not take kindly to his offspring’s role being usurped…unless the results of that proved most promising.

And so Astrogha was debating plots of his own. This human, this Uldyssian, represented both tremendous potential and threat to the cause of the Burning Hell. Humans could become the weapon the demons needed to at last seize total victory from the sanctimonious angels, yet the tendency toward good in them might make them ally themselves with the High Heavens…until the piousness and rigidity of the winged warriors sickened their stomachs as much as it did the demons’.

Astrogha lifted the limp arm from which he had been sipping and drank what was left of the blood within it. The children hungrily scurried over the rest of the emaciated corpse, a young acolyte of the temple no one would miss. Lucion had always permitted him to take the occasional innocent, for did not a demon have to eat, too?

But as he drained the last, a sudden, intense fear overtook Astrogha. The demon flung away the arm, at the same time as the children were rushing for the deepest recesses of the corner—not that any shadow could conceal either him or them from the cause of their terror.

Barely audible voices filled the chamber. There was a frenetic tone to them that raised the bristled fur covering his grotesque body. Astrogha could sense their pleading, their hopelessness. Their torments were such that he, who had caused so much terror himself over the centuries, shook hard.

Then, eyes that could see beyond Sanctuary now beheld a huge form seemingly halfway between realities. At first, it flowed toward him like an inky shadow, but as he caught better sight of it, he made out faces both human and demonic and all in midscream. The faces constantly melted into one another and none were ever perfectly defined, but rather more as if out of a nightmare.

As the hideous specter neared, Astrogha then caught glimpses of a fiery red shape, huge fists with black talons, and a horrific countenance that was in part a rotting skull with blazing eyes that burned into the arachnid’s own. Monstrous, curled horns—like those of a ram’s gone amok—topped the thick-browed, scaled head. That shape vanished, to be replaced by a skeletal form in rusting armor and in whose arms it carried rotting organs covered in maggots. Then, that was without warning replaced by a reptilian beast with a maw like a huge frog and a tongue four times forked. The mouth looked wide enough to swallow a man…or an arachnid as big as one…

The reptilian visage slipped into and out of his eyesight, mixing constantly with the shrieking heads. Yet, at last there came a powerful voice, with each word sounding like the crunching of a spider’s tasty flesh. “Astrogha…Astrogha…I have awaited your word, you pathetic worm…”

The demon in the web took hope at the mildness of the summoner’s anger. “Forgive me…forgive me for my lateness, my lord Diablo…”

The murky form shifted, most of it fading into shadow. Even Astrogha never cared to see his master in all his terrible glory. Some demons had been driven mad by such an audience. Astrogha was stronger than most, but the one time he had been granted a full visualization—and that for only a few seconds—it had left him shivering for years.

“What of this little mud ball you call Sanctuary?” Diablo demanded without preamble. His voice touched every nerve in the spider’s body, each syllable like a thousand tortures. “I grow impatient for results from my nephew…”

There was the opening that Astrogha needed! “Great and glorious Diablo, whose very name sends nightmares to the angels, this one has at all turns your desires followed as best can be done! Ever have I offered noble Lucion my word, my advice, but he listens not! True, the son of Mephisto has so many pressures upon him! It is so hard for him to direct all, to constantly plan alone…”

There was a harsh grating laugh that made Astrogha wish that he had ears to cover. Even then, though, that would not have kept the laugh from causing him to quake.

“The little bug has notions of his own on how the worms of this mud ball should be persuaded to our just cause? Notions my nephew would not hear?”

“Yes…they have gone unspoken. It is…difficult for this one or any other to understand what noble Lucion thinks and so offer advice to him. His planning grows erratic. He sets a trap for the leader of these mortals, then leaves myself and Gulag—who is but a stinking puddle now—to fend for ourselves against might both angelic and demonic…”

“So powerful…” Diablo’s tone left no doubt as to his interest. The destruction of his brother Baal’s minion was of no significance save that it gave some credence to the belief that the humans would prove very useful soldiers.

“This one would have continued the struggle—Astrogha fears only his master—but Lucion then cast me out and sealed from my view his confrontation with this Uldyssian!”

“And the mortal is not ours even then? ”

“Nay! He even just this last eve as Sanctuary counts time ravaged another temple! Yet Lucion not only seems not to care, but this one has not seen him of late…a second inexplicable absence! Our mortal servants are left to their own minds—no good thing coming of that—and this one must sit and wait and sit and wait, when there is much that could be done!”

He expected Diablo to comment, but only silence met the arachnid. That silence stretched longer and longer and the more it did, the more anxious Astrogha became.

At last…

“You have something in mind, little bug?”

“Yes, my lord Diablo…if this one may be permitted to act freely…and possibly beyond what the noble Lucion would prefer.”

There was another silence.

“Tell me, crawler in the shadows, tell me, my Astrogha…”

And, with barely concealed glee, the arachnid did just that. Mendeln was unusually silent even for him, enough so that Uldyssian noticed. He glanced at his brother as they trudged through the jungle, noting how Mendeln kept his gaze fixed directly ahead. It was as if he feared that he might see something undesired if he looked anywhere else.

Unfortunately, there was too much troubling Uldyssian’s own mind for him to continue to concentrate on Mendeln. It only partially had to do with the dangers ahead. There was also the incident with Serenthia.

She had been open to his advance, that much had been obvious, and he realized more and more that he wanted to pursue the matter. Yet, that meant trampling on the memory of his best friend…

With a grunt, Uldyssian tried to dismiss the subject from his mind yet again. There were too many threats merely from the land around them, much less the Triune, to become so distracted. Constantly, he probed ahead, seeking anything that might endanger the others. More than once, Uldyssian had mentally fended off predators. He had also sent several poisonous snakes and one huge constrictor slithering in other directions. It was a constant task; the jungle held so much potential danger that he could scarcely believe it.

At times, the trail turned as dark as night. Footing often proved tricky even for Uldyssian, who was better able to detect the shifting ground. Despite his own powers, he found he had to also rely on a pair of Torajians, Saron and Tomo. They were cousins, Saron the elder by five years, and had ventured farther in this direction than any of their fellows. They were nearly as skilled hunters in their environment as Achilios had been in his and were chief among those securing food for the rest.

“Watch for the jagged leaf of the tyrocol bush, Master Uldyssian,” Saron told him, pointing to the thick, reddish plant to their left. “To cut yourself on them is to invite its strong poison…” To emphasize that fact, the elder cousin used a spear to lift the lower leaves. The rotting corpse of a small, furred creature lay underneath. Tiny, crimson lizards who had been snacking on the remains darted for the safety of the underbrush.

“Kataka,” Tomo offered. “They resist the poison, but it fills their skin. They can eat the tyrocol’s victims and are poisonous to others because of what they ingest.”

Uldyssian had sensed some threat, but discovering that it was a plant he had to avoid and not some creature made him vow to double his efforts. He believed that he could reject the bush’s poison, but what about those not yet coming into their powers?

“Let all know of the tyrocol,” he commanded Romus and several others. It was not the first such pronouncement that Uldyssian had made and he knew that it would not be the last. It seemed that everything in the jungles had some hidden—and of times malevolent—aspect to it.

Their intended destination remained the smaller city of Hashir. As they marched along, they kept a special eye out for any trace of the Triune’s servants. Uldyssian was certain that the three assassins had not been the only ones left. In fact, he somehow felt that the Triune had some part to play in Mendeln’s behavior, but trusted that, if it was necessary, his brother would certainly let him know the truth.

Certainly…

“You seem so lost in thought.”

Uldyssian glanced to his side, startled by Serenthia’s sudden nearness. That he had not noticed spoke volumes concerning the state of his mind. “I have to keep all of them safe and there’s so much here in the jungle compared to home.”

“Yes, Seram seems so peaceful in comparison.” She frowned. “Or at least, it used to be.”

That stirred up his guilt again. “Serenthia…about Cyrus and what—”

“Go no further, Uldyssian. What happened was not your fault. You were hardly aware of the powers within you, much less how to control them.”

Her attempt to placate him did nothing to help Uldyssian. Nevertheless, he nodded gratefully.

“Nor do I blame you for Achilios,” the woman went on, her glittering eyes snaring his. “Achilios was a good man, but independent. He chose to do what he did. He wouldn’t blame you any more than I.”

“Serenthia—”

Her hand slipped over to his, touching the back so very softly. “Please don’t worry about me so much, especially where Achilios is concerned. I mourn him as a lost friend…but perhaps not the lover I thought he was.”

This admission nearly caused him to stumble in his tracks. “What are you saying? The two of you—”

“Uldyssian, Achilios always cared for me, but you know I”—she glanced away for a moment, her cheeks red from other than the heat—“had other feelings. When I thought that there was no more hope…I think I turned to him for comfort…for…I feel so guilty…”

He waited, and when she did not go on, he murmured, “Now you’re the one who shouldn’t.” Uldyssian shrugged, not certain if his next words made sense or not. “You brought happiness to Achilios. He died thinking that you and he were one. That’s something, isn’t it?”

Her hand slipped closer, tightening on his. Uldyssian did not draw back. A part of him felt like he once again betrayed his friend, but another was pleased by what he had heard.

But before matters could go any further, Mendeln interjected himself into their presence. Uldyssian’s brother wore an expression that boded no good.

“There is something in the jungle,” he quietly announced. “Can you feel it?”

His attention brought back to their current situation, Uldyssian now did. He could not fathom what it was, but it was very close. He signaled Tomo over to him.

“Do you know this region? Is there anything we should beware?”

The Torajian considered. “We are beyond where my cousin and I hunt, Master Uldyssian, but I recall a little about the area. It was said that jungle spirits frequent this location, but those are only stories our grandmothers told us!”

“Jungle spirits?” Mendeln seemed to find this of particular interest. “Why here? What is so different?”

“There are ruins here, Master Mendeln.” As with many of Uldyssian’s Torajian followers, Tomo seemed uncomfortable speaking directly with the younger son of Diomedes. “Ones so old the markings are all but washed away. They are nothing but curiosities…”

“We should avoid them, anyway,” suggested Serenthia. “They’re away from the river, aren’t they, Tomo?”

“Oh, yes, mistress.” Serenthia was treated with nearly as much reverence as Uldyssian. Tomo and some of the other younger converts also seemed quite smitten with her. “Two or three hours through dense jungle! Not worthy of the time!”

Mendeln looked disappointed. “So far as that?”

“Well…perhaps not so far as that,” the Torajian reluctantly admitted. “But far enough!”

Unless they had something to do with the Triune—which evidently they did not—Uldyssian had no use for the ruins. He gestured ahead. “We keep moving. Hashir’s our goal. Nothing else.”

Yet as they started on again, Uldyssian continued to sense something from the general direction of the unseen ruins. He had no idea exactly what it was, but it felt very, very old and somewhat dark of nature. Curiously, there was also a feeling of…of fury…that seemed to be growing with each passing moment.

Almost as if whatever it was had taken notice of them.

Uldyssian tried to ignore what was happening, but the fury continued to swell with each passing breath. He finally pulled aside Serenthia and Mendeln and was not at all surprised to discover that they felt it, too.

“We have attracted its attention,” his brother agreed. “It is awakening from its death…”

“And what does that mean, Mendeln?” Uldyssian demanded, suddenly growing weary with the mysteries surrounding his sibling. “Just what do you understand about this?”

“More than you, it seems,” the other snapped back, his abrupt vehemence matching Uldyssian’s own. “I do not walk around oblivious to everything but myself!”

“No, you walk around speaking to shadows and making vague comments, all the signs of madness—”

The eyes of both brothers went wide as they both noticed their odd anger at one another. Uldyssian glanced around them and noticed that many of his followers had paused to stare aghast at the unexpected confrontation.

“It is feeding us its fury,” Mendeln declared. “and in the process feeding from that…”

“Get everyone as close to the river as is safely possible,” commanded Uldyssian to Romus and others. “Everyone must keep their thoughts calm and if they feel any anger—about anything—they’ll keep it smothered or answer to me!”

He was not certain if any of the others would be affected, but did not want to take the risk.

Serenthia brightened. “Tomo! Is there anywhere to cross the river? I thought someone mentioned an area ahead.”

The Torajian frowned. “I know of none, mistress, but there could be…”

“I’m certain that I remember right.” She looked to Uldyssian. “I’m sure of it. The sooner we find it, the better!”

Uldyssian was glad for her suggestion. A crossing would let them better get to safety. The intensity of the ancient fury was still growing. In fact, he had some slight worry that even the other side of the river would not prove sufficient to escape it.

But at the moment, Uldyssian had no other choice for his people. He waved them on, staying his ground and staring in the direction of the ruins and their malevolent inhabitant. Uldyssian kept his will focused, determined not to let the dark thing play with his emotions.

Mendeln stepped up next to him. “Go on with the rest, Uldyssian. I will stand watch here.”

“You take Serenthia and lead the others on,” the older brother demanded in turn.

“There is no time for argument—” Mendeln snapped his mouth shut. Uldyssian knew that they had both nearly started another fight. Perhaps it would have been wiser for the pair to retreat, but he felt that so long as the inhuman fury concentrated on them, then the others were in less danger.

Evidently, Mendeln was of a like mind, for he said almost at the same time, “We will stand together, as shields for the rest, then.”

They said no more, both shoulder-to-shoulder, staring into the jungle.

But Uldyssian noticed a subtle shift in the monstrous rage. While part of it still focused on the brothers, some of it yet followed along with the fleeing band. He concentrated…and knew exactly why.

“Serenthia!” Uldyssian gasped. “It’s turning its evil toward her!”

“But why—” Mendeln began.

Uldyssian did not know why and had no interest in wasting time discussing the devastating discovery. More and more, the dark force turned its attention to the vicinity of their companion.

He knew of only one way to prevent that from continuing. His aspect grim, Uldyssian strode toward the distant ruins. At the same time, he pushed his will ahead, demanding that whatever lurked out there concentrate on him and him alone.

The jungle darkened as he bore toward the hidden site. The cries of the animals and insects faded into the background. As Uldyssian progressed, he noticed that the trees and other plant life took on a shrouded appearance, as if some shadow other than that cast by the foliage above now settled over them. Limbs took on the appearance of skeletal arms and all the leaves suddenly reminded him of the poisonous plant Tomo had pointed out.

He stumbled over a protrusion in the ground. Glancing down, he saw that it was a piece of stone, but one not naturally formed. Uldyssian extended a hand and the stone flew up into it.

It was from some shattered carving, part of the upper face of what looked to be a woman. What there was to view had an ethereal beauty to it—

A harsh force struck him full, sending Uldyssian flying against a nearby tree. Only his abilities kept his back from snapping in two. The stone went tumbling from his hand…but where he had hit hard, it landed gently on the soil.

At the same time, Uldyssian sensed that he was not alone. However, whatever stood with him was not any mortal being. It was not, he knew, even alive in any normal sense.

And this close, Uldyssian understood that it was demonic in origin.

He had slain demons before, but never had he thought what might happen to them after they were dead. He had supposed that they simply ceased to be. Yet, what Uldyssian faced was more akin to a ghost or angry spirit, not a living demon.

How was that possible?

That was not important, though. Protecting Serenthia was. “You’ll leave her be!” he abruptly growled, standing. “You’ll leave them all be!”

There was a feeling of immense bitterness and hatred…but not aimed directly at Uldyssian. For him, there was more of a sense of irritation, as if he was merely in the way from what needed to be done.

He decided to become more than that to the angry essence. Staring at the trees before him, Uldyssian pointed.

The jungle exploded, trees collapsing and bits of plant raining down on everything save Uldyssian. Where once the landscape had blocked his way, now a perfect, oval path lay open.

And at the end of it, just visible, was a stone structure tilted at a precarious angle. The roof—once angled, Uldyssian thought—had been crushed in as if by a huge fist. The windows—three in all—were odd in their design, having five sides to them. It appeared as if the building had been carved from stone the color of bone…the same stone as the fragment of face.

Tomo had severely miscalculated the distance of the ruins from Uldyssian and the edyrem. They had virtually been on the very doorstep.

Uldyssian squinted. Near the left side, the side from which the structure tilted away, was a small gap in the ground that he realized was another window. If that was the case, then at least another floor lay buried beneath. That bespoke of not only the great age of the building—for it must have taken centuries to bury the rest—but also some powerful catastrophe that had initially befallen the area.

Every muscle taut, Uldyssian closed in on the building. Tomo had described it as a place with markings all but worn away by the elements, but to the former farmer’s heightened senses, there were still symbols and illustrations quite evident on the face. What the language was, he did not know, but the images were at least somewhat recognizable. Many looked as if they were of the same ethereal female, only now on a few she was accompanied by a tall, almost menacing figure. Yet, between the pair there was no sign of menace…but something more resembling love.

The two never looked quite the same in any relief, but there was just enough to make Uldyssian certain it was always the original duo. Recalling how easily Lilith could wear other guises, he finally assumed that, if these were anything like her, they probably had a thousand shapes from which to choose. These had likely just been favorites.

At that moment, a voice whispered in Uldyssian’s ear, but its words were unintelligible. He hesitated, then took a step forward.

An image flashed through his head. A beauteous woman with wings—of fire ?

The face had looked familiar, but only after a moment did he recall it as the one from the reliefs and the shattered carving. None of the works had done justice to what he had just seen, though…and again Uldyssian knew that even the vision had only shown him a shadow of her true glory.

Uldyssian took a cautious step forward…only to be met by a second vision. Here was the winged woman with the male who, while strikingly handsome, had skin of absolute white and two ice-blue orbs without pupils. They stood together in what was clearly a scene of deep affection, despite obvious differences between them.

Again came the whisper, the words no more understandable than before. Suspecting what would happen next, Uldyssian nonetheless moved on.

It was the unearthly couple again…but now the winged woman lay torn to shreds on the ground. The male, his legs ruined and his back cut open so deep that he should have been dead, crawled toward her. A green ichor poured from his wounds. He bared teeth that were as sharp as those of the river reptiles. The male pounded the ground in growing rage and the tears dropping from his face sizzled when they touched anything else.

Behind them, fallen at the angle that he had first seen it, was the white structure…all four stories of it. Something had crushed in the roof, as Uldyssian had already noted, and then had demolished the base on the right as well. The landscape beyond was also in ruins, but in place of the jungle, trees akin to those of which Uldyssian was familiar from Seram dominated…or had until their destruction.

The vision…the longest of all…faded. As Uldyssian shook his head to clear it, he felt the presence that he had been combating suddenly reach far past him…for Serenthia.

Recalling himself, Uldyssian sought some manner by which to redraw the thing’s attention to himself. On a hunch, he eyed the ancient building. It did not take much of his power to start the edifice shaking. Bits of stone quickly began breaking off.

But no sooner had he started than he was battered to the ground by what could only be described as pure rage. Uldyssian cried out from pain, realizing that he had obviously underestimated the malevolent force’s determination. In his head, he heard howling and more words he could not understand. There was also a sensation of terrible loss, which under the onslaught, did not in any way cause him to sympathize with his attacker. Uldyssian had no idea what had provoked the spirit, wraith, or whatever it was, only that he had to stop it from hurting Serenthia…and him, too.

Straining, Uldyssian lifted his head. Through his tearing eyes, the land took on a surreal effect. In it, he almost imagined that he saw the male figure—a demon, he felt sure—standing over the ruins like a protective and enraged guardian.

And a moment later, that guardian reached a giant hand toward him.

It did not take imagination to know what might happen if that hand enveloped Uldyssian. The human focused on shielding himself.

But the giant vanished, replaced by a savage onslaught of broken branches, loose stones, and more…the refuse of Uldyssian’s own earlier action to clear the path. The pieces struck at him from all sides, guided by such force that they pressed closer and closer despite the human’s tremendous efforts. The jagged ends of branches scraped the air within an inch of his face. Rocks flung past Uldyssian’s eyes at a speed far greater than that of the swiftest bird and more than enough to crack a skull. He felt the ground below shake up and down, as if something beneath sought to reach up and take him…

He had demanded that the demonic essence pay heed only to him and now Uldyssian had been granted that demand. All he had to do now was survive…if possible.

But if he did not, then surely it would pursue Serenthia again. Uldyssian had to assume that, in its madness and outrage, the demon had somehow left some part of itself behind after it should have died. That part now evidently wanted Serenthia to replace its lost mate.

He had to end this. If Lucion, a powerful demon, had been unable to stop him, then surely Uldyssian could defeat this undead presence.

Again, he concentrated on the ruins. They seemed a distinct link to the demon. Forcing one foot forward after the other, Uldyssian tried not to notice how much closer the attacking fragments got despite his efforts…not even when one branch caught him over the brow, leaving a minute but telling trail of blood that he had to blink away while never losing sight of his own goal.

The ancient building shook anew, this time harder than ever. A portion of the right wall cracked off, sending what little remained of the roof into the trees. One of the windows lost all definition as portions of the border crumbled.

The voice shrieked in Uldyssian’s head. Something grasped his ankle, jarring Uldyssian’s attention despite his best efforts.

A fleshless hand—human-looking save for the fact that it had four digits and long, long nails—tore at his skin. Only then did it flash through Uldyssian’s mind that the male figure in the visions had had hands just so. A demon’s hands.

A second hand thrust out of the soil, this one still covered by a bit of ragged skin as pale as the bone. Uldyssian pulled away from the first, only to fall backward over some unseen obstacle.

Out of the ground burst a misshapen thing, the demon who was and was not dead. His bones were not bones as humans knew them, for they were segmented differently and what should have been the rib cage was solid. It amazed Uldyssian that this demon had bones at all—the hideous beast Gulag apparently having none—but his ilk seemed to come in a monstrous variety with no two alike.

The head tilted at one angle and the jaw hung slack. There was nothing handsome about the creature anymore, the carrion eaters—a centipede made a hasty retreat into an eye socket—still working after so long.

Then, to Uldyssian’s greater surprise, Mendeln—whom he had assumed had wisely stayed with the rest—stepped past him. There was an unsettling aura about his brother.

Mendeln stood before the macabre creature, arms spread wide. He shouted something in a language that Uldyssian did not understand…but suddenly realized was close in tone to what the demon had been spouting.

The ghoulish figure hesitated. Although the eyes were gone, he gave every indication of staring at Mendeln in something approaching surprise.

But if the demon radiated surprise, so, too, did Mendeln, who clearly expected something more to happen. He shouted out another word, one that, despite being unknown to Uldyssian, sent chills down the older brother’s spine.

This had more of an effect, but still clearly not quite what Mendeln had hoped for. The macabre figure teetered like a drunken fighter, then righted himself. The sense of menace grew, but also one of uncertainty, as if the demon was not quite sure what to do, either.

“He still lives…” murmured Mendeln more in fascination than anything. “No…he clings between life and death fueled by a desire for revenge…and a loss so great he still cannot accept it…”

Uldyssian did not care for the reason, only that they had to stop the fiend. Steeling himself, he glanced at the ruined structure yet again.

The walls cracked apart. The building let out a groan…and finally crumbled much as the temple in Toraja had.

But even then, the demon did not fall.

Uldyssian rose, but before he could prepare anything more, Mendeln put out a hand to stop him.

“Wait! See!”

Suddenly ignoring the intruders, the skeletal figure slowly turned toward the rubble. He raised his monstrous face skyward and let out a roar that Uldyssian recognized as deep anguish.

A small object shot up from near Uldyssian and Mendeln. It flew directly into one of the demon’s outstretched hands.

It was the shattered female face.

The demon held the sculpture up and the empty hand reached to caress the piece…and then, to the astonishment of the brothers, both simply faded away.

Expecting some trick, Uldyssian leapt forward. Yet he could now barely sense the demon’s presence. It was as if the creature had retreated beyond the mortal plane.

“He has gone back to that place between places,” Mendeln muttered. “It is over.”

“But why did it begin ? What stirred that thing to life—or whatever you’d call that?”

His brother shrugged. “As I said. Vengeance…and loss.”

Uldyssian recalled the visions that he had had about the otherworldly couple, both so distinctively different from one another. A demon and…and an angel, perhaps?

But that was ridiculous. Uldyssian could not imagine a more unlikely scenario. He dismissed the notion, more concerned with another aspect of the situation. “Serenthia. She’s safe now, right?”

“It would seem so. You protected her well, brother.”

That reminded Uldyssian of something else. “Yes, and you protected me—”

“But not so well.”

Waving that aside, Uldyssian growled, “You know what I mean, Mendeln! I’ve been patient, but something’s touched you that has nothing to do with the gifts I’ve shown the rest! You’ve changed! Sometimes, I’m not even certain to whom I’m talking!”

The younger brother bowed his head. “Neither am I,” he whispered. “Neither am I.”

“We’ve got to have this out between us,” Uldyssian persisted. “I’ve got to know what’s happening to you…and how it might affect those with us. There are too many things at stake!”

“Yes…I agree.” Mendeln glanced back at the crushed building. “But not here. Not now. Tonight. When all others sleep.”

“Mendeln—”

Uldyssian’s brother raised his hands palm forward. Almost pleading, he added, “It must be in the night…and only the two of us.”

Mendeln clamped his mouth shut. Uldyssian knew that he would get no more out of him. Still, “Tonight, then. Tonight and no later. I mean that, Mendeln.”

The other nodded, then turned and walked back. Uldyssian stood for a moment, watching Mendeln’s retreating form. Then, without effort, someone else invaded his thoughts.

Serenthia…

And with her gently smiling face burning into his mind, Uldyssian forgot about demon spirits and mysterious brothers. All that mattered was returning to the others and making certain that she was all right.

After that? Uldyssian could only pray that Achilios—wherever he was—would forgive his friend’s weakness.