Illusion (31 page)

Wisps of mist curled across the water, clawed across the white sand. It didn’t seem possible that she’d ever reach old age. She couldn’t imagine that happening here, or on Earth. They would have to confront the Khereb and her father as well. If it came to it, would she forfeit her own life to save Resh and this realm? She couldn’t side with her father. At least with Resh she had a chance at intimacy and real affection for the first time in her life.

Omigod, it had been good.

“Stop worrying about the future.” His rough voice rasped in her ear, making her shiver. He relaxed when he saw her response, and smiled. She’d been so deep in thought she hadn’t realized they’d reached the empty camp.

“That’s fine for you to say. You don’t have a demon lord as your father.”

“No,” he agreed. “My father had other shortcomings. He threw me through a window when I was six. He was an arch-warlock with more mistresses than I could name. My mother was a courtesan and she loved him. I lived with her until she died, then paved my own future in the world. If my sister’s temperament is anything to go by, perhaps I had a lucky escape. She doesn’t seem to have led a happy life.” He put one hand on Maya’s waist to steady her as she stepped over a lump of dolomite.

“You’re lucky to have survived. He sounds like an ass.” Maya crouched on the sandy soil and began to roll up her swag.

“He’s dead now. A powerful senator with few principles, but many political allies. Several of his orations have been scribed in the grimoire.”

She could empathize. Her own father was nothing to rave about.

“Molokh did something interesting when I was in the Abyss,” he said.

She turned her eyes back up to his face. His expression was ruthless, the hard bone structure revealed from the glow of the crystal light.

“He searched my mind for every memory of you. As if he wasn’t quite sure of all your powers.”

Uncertainty and fear swept through her. Would she turn against everyone and side with Molokh?

“Molokh is the Great Trickster. He loves to bargain. I nearly made a pact with him myself. I hated to betray my country, but I confess, I was tempted. The main thing holding me back was…” He stopped for a moment and gripped her elbow, lifted her to her feet. “You. I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving you trapped in the darkness. The world would lose something immeasurably precious if you disappeared. I couldn’t accept the thought of losing you forever.” His tone was determined—absolute.

She snorted and broke the mood. She wasn’t ready for this, and maybe she never would be.

“Doubtful. Somehow, I can’t imagine you tearing up because of me. What time is it?”

He appraised her for moment, an austere expression on his face. She held her breath, but he seemed to come to some type of resolution because he bent down to check the backpacks. He withdrew a leather pouch from a side pocket. Something rattled and chinked inside. He opened the drawstring and pulled out a string with his finger and thumb. With a quick tug and a small clatter, a long opal, the length of his little finger, dragged free. She moved closer, mesmerized by the colors swirling in the black stone.

“What is it?”

“A timepiece. Opal represents the four-squared Universe. Can you see the sun moving over the horizon?”

She’d have to be blind not to see what he meant. The crystal lit up within, glowing orange, then fiery yellow, brighter and brighter as a small sun appeared. “Is it hot?”

His lips curved into a smile and he shook his head. “No, it just reflects time. As you see, it’s dawn. At night it reveals the stars and the moons so we can track the time in the heavens. The others should be back soon, and then we leave. Are you…” He stopped for a moment, a perplexed expression on his face, “do you feel well enough … that is…” A splash of red darkened his cheekbones and she stared at him, trying to understand what he was saying.

Then she laughed.

“I’m fine.” Who would have thought it? Resh. Fighting for words.

He gazed down into her face. “I’d like you to have it. It was my mother’s. Wear it around your neck if you would. It will offer protection and healing.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

He moved behind her and the heavy weight of the pendant settled between her breasts. She’d never received a present from a man before. The polished teardrop was sprinkled with flecks of gold. Tears prickled her eyes, but she blinked them away. She immediately felt a wash of gentle peace.

“It’s beautiful. Is it magic?”

“Of course.” She felt his lips brush the top of her head and he pulled her back against his chest. “All stones project energy. But they have a mind of their own.”

She played with the smooth stone on her chest. It reminded her of something. “What about the crystal your friend gave me back in Balkaith? The Soulbearer?”

Resh wrapped his arms around her from behind and leaned his chin or her head. “I’m not sure. I trust Aseroth. For all his fighting skills, he’s intuitive. It would have cost him greatly to admit it, and we’ll keep the stone close. Rumor has it that the witches of Tau use them in death rituals to capture the souls of those departing the physical realm. But I’ve never seen it done. Either way, we might be able to use it to barter with the High Priestess. They are rare.”

The smell of sandalwood washed over her, making her feel safe and cared for. For a second she wished they could just stay here, underground, away from everyone. The air thickened and she wanted to say something, tell him how she felt about him, how her heart pounded whenever he was near, that she’d never felt this way for anyone. The incense seemed to be coming from her skin and her brow creased into a frown.

“Maya, this isn’t the best place to ask you. But I’d like to make a formal offer—”

“Well, isn’t this lovely?” a silky voice interrupted, and they both turned to see Esmonda entering the cavern from a dark tunnel. Alexandr followed close behind, wearing an apologetic expression on his face. “The two lovebirds. I shudder to think what crossbreed species will result from this pairing. The ashes of our pedigree father must be churning in fury.”

“Esmonda. I don’t think…” Alexandr grabbed her arm, but Esmonda pulled away and sauntered over to them. Resh released Maya and stood slightly in front of her.

“The female survived, more’s the pity. We need to have this out.”

Resh stiffened. “Have your say and be done with it. We’re all sick of your biting words and ill humor.” His own tone was tight, his narrowed eyes fixed on his sister, but the sorceress ignored him, and turned her purple eyes on Maya.

“You disappeared. Completely. What are you?”

“I don’t know.” Maya kept her voice calm. “Something strange happens when I get stressed. It’s like an out-of-body experience.”

“So, you don’t know how to control it?”

“It’s the first time it’s happened.” She couldn’t help the defensive note that crept into her voice.

“Did you bring the Khereb to Balkaith?” Esmonda towered over her so she had to stretch her neck to meet her cold stare.

“I think they followed me.” She said it without a trace of emotion.

“You’re not human, nor sorceress, dryad, witch, or magi. So what type of creature are you?”

“I told you. I don’t know.” Maya might be blonde and short, with fake breasts, but that didn’t mean she was stupid. “I’m changing daily.”

“Give yourself to the Khereb. Save my saintly brother and all the people of this realm. Do you realize what your presence will cost us? The Khereb will destroy Balkaith and find us in Tau eventually.”

“It won’t help. Molokh is my father. He wants this realm and he wants me to join him. Either way, the Khereb are here to stay.”

“You’re a demon lord’s daughter. The reason we left Earth in the first place!”

“Shut up, Esmonda.”

“No, she should hear this. It all makes sense now. I should have realized. You were his High Priestess in Carthage. Even then, you disappeared at will. Our people were happy on Earth. Then you arrived, promising magic in exchange for fealty, prayer, and, finally, sacrifice in the name of your father. You were called the Illusionist; your true name is—”

“Stop it,” Resh bellowed.

Loud buzzing filled Maya’s ears, flashes of color darted behind her closed lids. She shook her head. She felt herself falling into hideous darkness, heard low murmurs, her father’s voice growing louder; asking, no—cajoling her to return. A skeletal hand appeared, beckoned her toward a dim light among dense black shadows.

Someone pulled her to a warm chest, brought her back to the present. A faint smell of incense. Alexandr. Tears coursed down her face—she was bringing conflict to this realm. The words in the grimoire rang in her head.

Above her head, the argument between Resh and his sister raged, dragged her out of her misery.

“You are not one to stand on high moral ground. She cannot be blamed for a past life. Take a good look at your own reflection before you cast aspersions on others. You, who murdered our father,” Resh yelled.

“I did not poison his drink.” Esmonda’s body turned rigid.

“It had to be you, or your mother. The only two close enough to slip past his guard. The only two he trusted.” Resh seemed to make an effort to control himself. “He loved you.”

“Was he such a good father to you that you wish to avenge him? Cast aside your sister because of gossip?” She pushed back her hair with thin, trembling fingers.

“Your actions point to your guilt. You didn’t attend his funeral, nor did you grieve or put aside colors for mourning. You left his holdings and came to Balkaith, danced, and forgot.” He bit out the words.

“Why would I pretend to care? He was an animal,” Esmonda replied in a low voice.

Maya closed her eyes, counted to ten, and took a deep breath. “Leave her alone.”

There was a moment of awkward silence. Resh’s eyes flashed silver, black flames swirling with rage. His face was white. Maya caught his eyes and made a cutting motion with her hand to let him know he should drop the subject. Dark shades of black flitted in the shadows on the periphery of her vision.

“The grimoire said I would bring conflict to the realm. I don’t want this.”

“The fight with Molokh started a long time ago. The burden is not on your shoulders,” Resh said.

“Maybe not. But we need to stick together if we’re to beat him.”

“I can’t believe you’re supporting her,” Alexandr murmured in her ear.

Something landed on her hand. Ash. The others didn’t seem to notice.

A dry pit of nerves rode low in her stomach. The sorceress didn’t appear the least threatening. Her face was strained. She seemed to be begging him to listen, to read between the lines. Words that her brother didn’t want to hear or understand.

Maya turned to Resh. “Does Balkaith host the only serpent creature on its walls, or do they appear elsewhere in the Empire?” She tried to keep her voice steady. Esmonda could wait until later.

“No, we have them in every township. They represent magic and symbolize the unity of the Empire.”

“I think our best chance of survival is to evoke the Circle. Back on Earth, you spoke to me about the disappearance of the Enim warriors. I think I know what they are.”

“What do you mean?” Alexandr asked.

“I’m sure of it. They’re the serpents with wings and the head of dog. Like the one painted on your wall in Balkaith. I rode one in my dream.”

The darkness started to rise, form a shape. What was it telling her?

“The Circle of Eight. Will the ritual evoke the warriors?”

Resh inclined his head and nodded, anger stifled beneath hooded eyes. “It’s a possibility. The warriors disappeared, but the myths say they are still with us. First things first. Let’s get to Tau. The ravens will meet us with word from Lord Seth.”

He looked astonished for a moment, reached out a hand to capture the ash that rained down on them from midair. It had grown heavier and denser by the minute.

“Let’s move. The ward has broken. We’ve run out of time.”

Daughter of Mist

“So, the Enim Warriors forced the Khereb back to the Abyss and freed the Empire. With them went Molokh, also called Ba’al, Zephin, Hadead, Pidam, and Rapiun, rider of the clouds, god of lightning and thunder. Once a Prince on Earth, now imprisoned as a demon lord in the Abyss. His powers are regeneration and reincarnation.”

—Corpus Megistus, Volume VIII, Enim Empire

They stepped out of darkness onto a ledge that overlooked a vast valley filled with dark green trees draped in moss. Thick gray mist poured in from the southeast. It circled the treetops and blanketed the foliage. Several birds gave a piercing shriek and took off, heading west. One black shape caught Maya’s eye, its massive wingspan apparent even from a great distance.

“What is it?” She pointed at the bat-like shape as it skimmed over the top of the trees, beat its wings once, twice, then bolted into a pink-streaked sky. It circled high above, then flew behind the mountain.

“Khereb.” Alexandr’s tone was matter-of-fact.

Dawn was coming. A weak yellow sun struggled to find its way through the mist, and to the north the scenery opened to a huge carpet of leafy green. Several parcels of land had been cleared around five or so townships, but they were too far away for her to discern the architecture or people. Lower, and to the far north, the land flattened to olive-shaded lowlands, and finally a denim-blue ocean sparkled in the distance.

“Let’s open a portal. Before the rest of them turn up.” The sorceress sounded subdued.

“From here it looked like a bird,” Maya said.

“Let’s not wait to find out,” Esmonda murmured.

Resh dropped his backpack on the dirt and rummaged inside, withdrew a long white stick and a handful of herbs. He moved to the edge of the cliff, faced west, and breathed deeply. He muttered ritual words in a low tone for several minutes, swayed as if he might fall, then stepped back and drew a half circle in the dirt with the pointed end of the stick.

He crouched and knocked his knuckles on the ground, each sound falling heavier and louder each time. Then he made three complex gestures with his hand. Black sigils appeared and floated in midair. They burned and smoldered, sent out the smell of charred wood. The dirt in the half circle heaved. An iron ring appeared and Resh tugged until the half circle lifted with a squeal like an old monastery door.