The Veiled Prophet

XI

Mendeln was hiding something, that much Rathma sensed. As he materialized among the marching edyrem—startling not a few—he felt a part of his pupil’s mind hidden from him.

Immediately, he reached out to Trag’Oul to inform the dragon of this.

I know it already, the creature replied. And whatever method with which he shields it is immune to even my inquiries.

But that’s not possible! Rathma knew of no manner by which the mortal, even as gifted as he was, could achieve such a feat.

No, it is not, agreed the dragon. For him.

Rathma also noted that Mendeln was doing his best to ignore him. This infuriated the Ancient more than he could believe.

“Mendeln ul-Diomed, we need to talk.”

Uldyssian’s brother glanced back. “We are nearly at the gates of Kehjan. It’ll have to wait. I am trying to figure out how to avoid a war.”

“Any blood spilt between the edyrem and the mage clans is insignificant against the true danger.”

“Not if some of that blood belongs to Uldyssian!” Mendeln snapped with unusual vehemence.

His reaction only convinced the son of Inarius that there was indeed more going on than Mendeln wished to tell him. Rathma had a terrible idea what that might be.

“We will talk, son of Diomedes—and now.”

His student paused. The other edyrem wisely moved on as the two black-clad figures stared at each other.

“Talk? At your convenience, as usual,” the mortal blurted. “When I need to talk, you are elsewhere! When I need answers, you only provide puzzles!”

There was something terribly amiss. Rathma surreptitiously reached out with his powers. He searched the jungle very carefully, thinking in terms of his father’s cunning.

And there he finally saw what he believed Mendeln was hiding.

Achilios shadowed the edyrem horde.

His expression not changing, Rathma murmured, “I see. Forgive me for not understanding the problem.”

Mendeln reached out to him. “No! It’s not—”

But Rathma had already vanished, to reappear in the jungle behind the stalking hunter.

“I am sorry to do this, Achilios,” he declared.

Almost too late, the Ancient recalled that this was not a being bound by living limits. Before he had even finished speaking, the archer had spun around and readied an arrow.

It flew past Rathma’s ear, distracting him more than anything else. That was apparently all that Achilios desired, for instead of attacking, he immediately leapt into the underbrush.

But if the hunter thought that sufficient to keep Rathma from him, he was sorely mistaken. Now better prepared for what he faced, the Ancient vanished.

The look on the archer’s deathly countenance when the son of Inarius materialized right before him might have been humorous under other circumstances. Achilios gaped, then grabbed for a good-sized knife at his waist.

NO.

The voice stopped both dead in their tracks. Rathma was struck far harder than Achilios, who had likely heard that voice often in the past days. Rathma whirled around, seeking the speaker and growing anxious that he could not even sense the slightest trace.

Eyes blazing, he turned back to the archer. Achilios said nothing, but his expression told Rathma all that he needed to know.

“It is him,” the Ancient breathed. “It is him.”

But before more could be said, there came shouts from the direction of Mendeln and the edyrem. Rathma looked that way.

The sky ahead had suddenly turned an unsettling green.

He looked again to Achilios, whose expression had not changed. Rathma hesitated for a moment, then vanished from the spot.

The son of Inarius reappeared near Mendeln—and beheld a sight that without doubt had no natural origin.

The green filling the sky was that of a brightly colored insect—to be precise, the mantis. Never in all his long life had Rathma ever witnessed so many mantises, especially together. Mantises were solitary creatures, but these swarmed in numbers that dwarfed even the greatest gatherings of locust. From the direction of the capital, they came, and Rathma did not have to have the wisdom of generations to know that there was no coincidence. The only question remained was just who was responsible. The mage clans, perhaps, or his father.

Or perhaps Achilios’s new master.

But that hardly mattered now. The swarm was nearly upon the edyrem, and as the mantises descended, they seemed to swell in size. From a few inches, they grew to more than a foot and kept growing.

While initially stunned, Uldyssian’s followers did not continue to stand and wait. Serenthia gave a shout and threw her spear into the swarm. As the weapon flew, a fiery aura burst into being around it, one that swept over any nearby insect the spear passed. Engulfed by the flames, more than a dozen of the creatures immediately perished.

And as this happened, those with her attacked in a variety of manners designed for maximum carnage. Balls of energy, buffers of pure sound, whatever could slaughter the mantises by the scores struck the gargantuan swarm.

But Rathma noticed quickly that despite the hundreds of huge bodies already littering the area, the mantises’ numbers did not appear to diminish. If anything, the swarm seemed to grow.

He wasted no time in calling to one who might better understand. Trag, do you see all this?

The dragon’s reply was immediate. I sensed its beginnings and quickly sought what was going on.

This is not the work of the mage clans, is it? Rathma asked, even as he prepared to join the conflict.

No…this was brought together by a power far greater than they.

Trag’Oul did not have to elaborate. Rathma understood exactly what he meant.

He searched the area for Mendeln and was not surprised at all to discover Uldyssian’s brother among the missing. The Ancient could scarcely believe that Mendeln would betray the rest, but no other explanation made sense.

Something else occurred to him. He reached back to where he had last sensed Achilios and found him also gone.

This is a diversion…this is all a diversion.

To verify that, Rathma surveyed the tableau. The edyrem attacked and attacked, and the mantises kept coming and coming. There could not be so many of the insects in all of Sanctuary, yet they were without end. The creatures landed among Uldyssian’s followers, biting and scraping them, but thus far, he saw not one serious injury, not even among the younger and older. The swarm also never flowed any faster than the humans could handle them. Just enough to keep them harassed and unable to advance.

Unable to reach Kehjan.

Rathma did not have to ask why. He knew that if Mendeln had not already somehow transported himself into the capital, then he was well on his way.

The question was, what did the angel he now appeared to serve desire of the younger brother?

There was only one way to discover the reason. With a last glimpse of the struggle, Rathma went to Kehjan.

Uldyssian reached out to Serenthia and Mendeln and again confronted a vague barrier. A part of him chided the son of Diomedes for not immediately heading back to them, but another kept reminding Uldyssian of what could be gained for not only the edyrem but all humanity if he succeeded here.

And it appeared that his hopes were not without reason, for Prince Ehmad came to him late in the day and said, “We don’t have much time. The mage council has agreed to meet with you, but it must take place just after the sun has gone down. No later.”

“Why the sudden urgency?”

“I am a mere prince,” his host said with a mock shrug, “and understand little of the ways of spellcasters.”

Uldyssian suspected that Ehmad knew far more than he indicated but left it at that. He trusted in the prince. “And the guilds?”

“They will be there also. I should tell you, Ascenian, that such a swift gathering of both sides together says much concerning their interest in you.”

Uldyssian’s head suddenly pounded, but even as he reached a hand up, the pounding went away. Prince Ehmad looked concerned. “My friend, are you ill?”

“No…I’m fine.” Still, there had been something familiar about the sensation, as if it originated with someone else and not him, someone he knew well, too. Mendeln? Serenthia? Was one of them seeking to contact him?

Before he could pursue the thought, Uldyssian suddenly sensed another presence.

The mage Kethuus materialized before them. “Zorun Tzin is dead.”

At first, Uldyssian was not certain whether the shadowy man referred to his captor or Malic in his guise as Zorun. Kethuus quickly corrected himself.

“Zorun Tzin was traced to an area below the city. There was some hint of his magic, but it faded in one particular location. That can only mean that he’s truly no more.”

“And Malic? What about Malic?”

“This spirit of which you speak cannot be sensed in any way. It’s been suggested that when Zorun’s body perished, so, too, did this Malic.”

Uldyssian could scarcely believe that. “There must be some way to be certain!”

“All manners of detection that the mage council’s established have been used. They verified Zorun’s death at the location and found no trace of any such creature as you describe the high priest.” Kethuus grinned, his white teeth a great contrast to his almost-invisible face. “Perhaps you can do better.”

It was not a suggestion but rather a challenge. Uldyssian, aware more than anyone of what a threat Malic was, could not refuse it. “Will you take me to where you last traced Zorun Tzin? Are you allowed to do that?”

“Of course.”

“It is but three hours until the sun sets,” Prince Ehmad reminded him. “I would recommend not being delayed.”

“Have no fear. I’ll see that the Ascenian gets back in time and in one piece.” Kethuus sneered. “He’ll find the council and the guilds far more trouble than this Malic, believe you me.”

“This must be done,” Uldyssian told his host. “Believe me. I failed to make certain that he was truly dead the last time. Whatever harm Malic causes in his hunt for me I feel in great part responsible for.”

“May the ancestors watch over you, then,” Ehmad replied with a bow.

Kethuus sneered again, obviously not as strong in his belief in such things as the noble. “Shall we be gone, or do you wish to natter on for a while longer?”

Although well impressed by Kethuus’s abilities, Uldyssian cared little for the mage himself. He seemed typical of the arrogance that the son of Diomedes expected of his kind, which did not bode well for the upcoming gathering.

The sooner they were back, the better Uldyssian would like it. “Take me there.”

Touching his chest, Kethuus obeyed.

The transition was nigh instantaneous. The two stood in an alley in the midst of the capital. Tall but obviously neglected buildings crowded around them.

“I thought that we’d appear in the tunnels,” he said to his companion.

Kethuus lowered his hand. For the first time, Uldyssian noticed the medallion the other wore. Runes etched around the blue stone in the center faded from illuminated gold to dull brass even as he watched. This was the equivalent to Zorun Tzin’s staff, Uldyssian realized.

“One doesn’t go blindly belowground,” Kethuus explained in a tone that mocked Uldyssian for not knowing that. “The tunnels are the oldest places in all Kehjan. Some say they were built for a previous city raised before men ever existed.”

“And who would’ve built it?”

The hooded mage stamped his boot on a small pattern carved into the path. To Uldyssian’s astonishment, part of the rock slid away, revealing a hole down which rusted metal rungs could be seen on one wall. “Some say angels and demons.”

Kethuus did not elaborate, instead dropping down into the hole and climbing out of sight. The son of Diomedes quickly followed suit.

As he descended below the alley, the stone slid back into place above him. Uldyssian tried unsuccessfully to shake off the notion that he had entered a trap.

At the bottom, Kethuus created a small, illuminating globe. Uldyssian did not imitate him, preferring for the moment to let the spellcaster assume that his powers were greater than the outsider’s. It had become abundantly clear that, at least where Kethuus and his two comrades were concerned, Uldyssian’s power was suspect. That despite Amolia’s earlier attempt to seize him.

Shrugging off the prejudices of his possible allies, he waited with growing impatience while Kethuus led him along the ledge of the vast water system. Uldyssian had expected to descend only a short distance from their destination, but Kethuus turned from one confusing passage to another.

And only then did Uldyssian wonder if it was actually the mage he followed.

Unseen by the figure in front of him, his hand balled up into a fist that glowed a faint crimson. Uldyssian could not believe that he had not considered such a trick by Malic. The dread spirit was cunning enough to take one of the very hunters after him and use that body to bring his ultimate prey to where the high priest could deal with him. Malic would know that his foe would insist on trying to track him, which meant that the high priest would be certain to lay some sort of trap.

But now alerted, Uldyssian had every intention of turning the tables on Malic. If he was correct, then Kethuus was already dead, and so there was no fear in harming him.

“Is it much farther?” he asked, seeking to keep his adversary unaware of his discovery.

“Not far. Have no fear…”

The continually mocking tone only further encouraged Uldyssian that he was correct in his assumption. Certain of his triumph, Malic could not even hold back his disdain.

The only thing that held Uldyssian back from attacking was curiosity about just what Malic planned when they reached wherever it was they were going. Uldyssian suspected that perhaps the high priest had located some surviving acolytes of the Triune to assist him. If so, it would behoove the son of Diomedes to see that none of them left the tunnels alive.

They journeyed on in silence, the only other noises the churning of the water and their own breath. Just when Uldyssian decided that he would wait out Malic’s little game no longer, the figure ahead paused.

“Here. The entrance we descended was the nearest physical way to reach this spot. Don’t worry, though, Ascenian; we’ll get you back in time to meet the council.”

“I don’t doubt that at all,” Uldyssian replied, keeping his hand hidden.

The hooded spellcaster leaned down near the water’s edge. He pointed at an area just to his left. “That’s where all trace of Zorun Tzin ends. His body is not in the water. We would’ve detected that. It simply ceased to be.”

“The safer for covering Malic’s tracks, wouldn’t you say, Kethuus?”

The mage looked up. “Or simply where this supposed ghost ended when the body was no longer able to sustain him. You said yourself that the bodies didn’t last long.”

“But long enough to find him another.” Uldyssian pretended interest in the findings as he maneuvered closer to his companion. He wanted to make certain that Malic would not escape him this time. It put him at risk as well, but to Uldyssian it was more than worth it.

“We’ve found nothing to the contrary. All trace of Zorun Tzin stops here, as I said!”

“But we’re not looking for him,” Uldyssian reminded. “We’re looking for Malic, high priest of Mefis.”

Kethuus rose. In the glow of his sphere, his dark face looked monstrous. “If such a creature as you say he was exists, we would’ve found something! You were tortured, Ascenian, and Zorun Tzin would’ve been a master of that. What you thought happened was, in the opinion of more than just myself, your imagination.”

“Was it just that…Malic?”

The mage’s expression contorted as he registered just what the other had called him. “You can’t seriously believe that I am—”

Uldyssian raised his fist…and the water before the two men erupted. Both were drenched by a foul-smelling wave. Uldyssian lost his balance and fell into the channel. Kethuus tumbled into the wall, and only a last-minute grasp by the mage kept him from joining the son of Diomedes.

Sinking below the surface, Uldyssian fought to breathe. Something that was not a fish moved past him in the murky water. He blindly struck out at it, the water boiling as he unleashed what he had planned to use on Kethuus.

The mage was not Malic. Uldyssian cursed himself for falling prey to such a notion. Malic would hardly have let himself be so endangered, and certainly he would not have wanted to risk the body he had so avidly sought.

Something akin to a serpent wrapped around his leg. Pulling against it, Uldyssian felt several sharp edges cut into his flesh. He almost cried out, only at the last moment able to prevent himself from doing so and thus filling his lungs with water.

As it was, he already ached for air. Uldyssian tried to reach the surface, but whatever held his leg kept him just inches from salvation.

In desperation, he reached up, snatching at the air his lips sought. If he could only bring it to him…

And as his cupped hand came back underwater, it brought with it a huge bubble that radiated a faint golden aura. Uldyssian dragged the bubble to his mouth and inhaled. His lungs filled. He brought to his mouth another and another, all the while kicking to keep the unseen threat from pulling him down farther.

From above, there came a glow reminiscent of the sphere Kethuus had summoned. A moment later, that very globe shot down through the water, heading past Uldyssian. It soared deeper, descending, he realized, toward whatever held him.

As it struck, Uldyssian caught sight of the demon.

He knew it could be nothing else. Nothing born of Sanctuary could have so grotesque a form. It had a multitude of leafy yet sharp tentacles and a bulbous body that reminded Uldyssian of a bubble. Odd things floated within. He had the horrific feeling that he was to join them inside.

Again, Uldyssian felt his lungs aching. As Kethuus’s glow light faded away, the son of Diomedes used the last of the light to aim at the demon.

But the creature immediately released him, vanishing into the dark muck. Uldyssian had to forgo his attack; he needed air and needed it fast.

The instant his head broke the surface, Uldyssian inhaled. The air tasted so sweet to him that for a moment he thought of nothing else.

And that was when the demon attacked again.

There were tentacles everywhere, even around his throat. One wrapped around his mouth. He was pulled under.

From somewhere came Kethuus’s shout, then the water filled Uldyssian’s ears. He was pulled into the darkness.

However, the air that he had managed to gulp enabled him to think better. Uldyssian focused on the demon’s many appendages.

Despite the surrounding water, the son of Diomedes made them burn.

A manic bubbling sound erupted from below him, so loud that Uldyssian thought he would go deaf. The demon withdrew its fire-engulfed limbs from him and began in vain to try to shake the flames off.

Uldyssian glanced down as he headed toward the surface. In the light of the unnatural fire he had created, the demon looked even more horrific. There were tentacles everywhere, half of them burning. The flames created an aura about the creature that would have been even more terrifying if not for the fact that it was actually harming the demon, not a part of it.

Uldyssian’s head broke the surface again. He blinked clear his gaze, then focused on a dim illumination ahead.

Kethuus, another glow ball near his head, crouched low as Uldyssian swam toward him. He reached out a hand, which, after a moment’s hesitation, Uldyssian accepted.

“By the seven!” the shadowy man blurted. “I have seen things that would turn a man’s skin whiter than yours, Ascenian, but never anything so…so…” Unable to come up with an appropriate word, Kethuus let his exclamation fade away.

Climbing onto the ledge, Uldyssian spat out some of the rank liquid and gasped. “It was a demon…a demon that Malic surely summoned!”

“I know not whether to believe you on that last point, but certainly it adds to your claim!” The hooded spellcaster grunted. “And you destroyed it with fire that not even water could lessen! You are truly what the stories claimed you to be!”

While Uldyssian was not unpleased to hear respect at last in his companion’s tone, he was more concerned with discovering just where Malic had gone.

The water bubbled again. Kethuus, staring past Uldyssian, raised a hand and began chanting.

Uldyssian spun around. The soaked ledge nearly caused him to slip back into the water, but he managed to keep his hold.

A fiery storm rained down upon the two men. The demon had ripped free its burning tentacles and now threw them.

Uldyssian clapped his hands together. An explosion of air tossed the tentacles away from him and Kethuus.

Yet as he succeeded there, the demon itself surged toward Uldyssian. From the bulbous body, a much-shorter appendage shot forth.

“I have it!” the mage called. He sliced at the air, and an arc of energy severed the tip of the short tentacle.

The limb fell, but the tip continued on. Uldyssian gestured at it, and it exploded in their faces.

Kethuus screamed. At first, Uldyssian did also, but then the pain abruptly vanished. In fact, his entire body grew numb. His legs collapsed. As he fell against the wall, he saw that Kethuus, too, had lost all control of his body. The mage slumped nearby.

The now-familiar bubbling sound grew louder and louder. A stench that had nothing to do with the water filled Uldyssian’s nostrils. The monstrous shape of the demon loomed over him.

A pair of tentacles wrapped around Uldyssian’s torso, lifting him up like a rag doll. The demon drew its victim close.

Uldyssian’s mind began to fog. Worse, he had no one but himself to blame for this catastrophe. He had walked into Malic’s trap fully confident in his ability to outwit the spirit and had only succeeded in proving himself a great fool.

One thing kept him puzzled. Why would Malic wish him dead if he needed his body? The high priest had been determined to make Uldyssian his new host. Had he found someone better?

The demon raised him higher, then began moving away from the ledge. It appeared to have no interest in Kethuus, which boded even more ill for Uldyssian. That made him wonder if the creature intended to bring him to Malic. That would explain some things.

But no sooner had Uldyssian thought that than the demon lowered him to just below its odd body, then pulled him underneath. There, for the first time, the son of Diomedes saw what he assumed was the creature’s mouth. The oval hole unsealed, and although within the demon there seemed some odd liquid, none of it spilled out.

This close, with the mage’s second glow ball still burning, Uldyssian could see at last what some of the objects within were. Small bits of metal, things like buttons and belt hooks.

He now knew why the searchers had found no trace of Zorun Tzin’s body.

His head was nearly at the mouth. Uldyssian could only imagine the terrible digestion process that would take place once he was within.

He fought back the fog. It finally receded, if only slightly. Uldyssian felt his powers returning. He had no time to think about what to do; as in such moments in the past, Uldyssian relied strictly on raw emotion to fuel his efforts. He stared into the demon’s body.

The thick liquid within bubbled. The demon let out a squeal as the bubbling intensified. A brownish tint began to form all over the bulbous body.

The creature flung Uldyssian high in the air, battering him against the ceiling. Even through the remaining numbness, Uldyssian felt the tremendous shock from the collision. Yet he refused to falter in his own attack.

Squealing louder, the monstrous creature again threw his prey at the ceiling. Uldyssian used the new pain to fuel his emotion-driven assault.

The demon’s body turned a dark brown. Inside, the sinister liquid began to vaporize. The bulbous body swelled.

The demon exploded.

In its death throes, it tossed Uldyssian up one last time. Caught unaware, Uldyssian hit his skull against the stone. The world spun around.

He struck the water, small bits of the demon spilling over him in the process. Uldyssian tried to orient himself, but his body would not function.

He sank beneath the water.