Sinister Seraphim of Mine (Overworld Chronicles Book 8) (14 page)

BOOK: Sinister Seraphim of Mine (Overworld Chronicles Book 8)
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He paused for a moment. "Very well." Jeremiah gave me a serious look. "Just know that in the wrong hands, this information could bring about the end of days."

 

Chapter 12

 

The end of days?
I felt my forehead wrinkle so hard it felt like my brain wrinkled with it.

Jeremiah enclosed us in a shield. "This will prevent anyone from overhearing us." He projected an image of the Chalon. "There is a realm I call the Void. As the name implies, I believe there is nothing within it except the Beast."

I felt a chill work down my spine. "I assume you can reach this Void with the Chalon."

"Yes." He rotated the image of the orb. "As you well know the Chalon is attuned to various realms through a sequence of sounds. I had planned to enter Seraphina and attune the Chalon on their Grand Nexus so it would open into the Void and release the Beast on their realm."

I had a terrible feeling he was talking about something worse than a bear or lion. "What does this beast look like?"

"That, I do not know. After I recovered the Chalon—"

"You mean stole it from us," I said.

He ignored the comment. "I studied it in great detail. On it I found symbols, each one indicating a realm. Although the symbols are part of an alphabet I am unfamiliar with, I had seen such patterns during my quest for Juranthemon relics and realized they were icons for the realms." Jeremiah magnified the projected image of the Chalon, increasing the size of the intricate patterns on it. I found myself wondering how anyone could have carved such microscopic lines. What really caught my eye, though, were the seven symbols hidden within the pattern. One resembled a man with wings.

"Is that the symbol for Seraphina?" I asked.

He nodded. "The spiral with two dots is Eden." He pointed to another icon which looked like a line connected to a semi-circle with squiggly marks. "I have discovered through my contacts in the demon realm there is a permanent formation in the Wastes which matches this pattern, leading me to believe it is the symbol for the demon realm." After a pause, his finger moved to a symbol with nothing but a slash on it. "This one is for the Void."

I pointed to an icon that looked like links of a chain. "This one must be for the Nazdal realm."

"Sturg," Jeremiah said with a nod.

The last two symbols looked unfamiliar. One looked like a flame with a pointy bottom. The other resembled the outline of choppy water. "Which realms are those?"

He shrugged. "I do not possess enough writings from Juranthemon to decipher the symbols."

"One of them must be for the sirens," I said.

"Ah, the beings who you think built the arches."

I gave him my best
duh
look. "I saw them singing it from the ground, so it's not just something I think is true." I waved a hand to dismiss this all too interesting tangent and went back to the Beast. "I take it unleashing the Beast could destroy a realm."

"That is my belief, yes."

I felt my lips peel back from my teeth. "Killing Daelissa wasn't enough was it? You wanted to destroy all the Seraphim." I blew out a breath. "I don't know what the leyworms saw in you back in the day. You're just a mean, spiteful old man."

Jeremiah's face clouded with anger but he swallowed hard. "Yes, boy. That is an accurate description."

I raised an eyebrow. "Are you ready to abandon your apocalyptic desires and move on to some good old-fashioned warfare? I mean, a lot of people are gonna die, and we're probably going to wreck the hell out of the planet, but at least we can rebuild."

"Yes." He cut the word off sharply. "I would appreciate it if you'd respond with a little maturity. I am trying to overcome our differences for the mutual good."

I felt a little ashamed at egging him on. Sure, he'd tried to murder me, but somehow I'd survived and life went on, right? It was my turn to swallow a lump of anger.
I don't like him, but we need each other to survive.
I nodded and held out a hand. "Truce."

Jeremiah regarded it with suspicion, as if I might have a hand buzzer or something hidden in my palm, then gripped my hand tight and gave it one solid shake. "It is agreed. Enemies no more, but allies for common cause."

A groan threatened to escape my lips. Why did everyone have to be so formal about this stuff? I kept my response simple. "Allies. Now, let's go make Maulin Kassus squeal."

The former leader of the Black Robe Brotherhood now called a windowless eight-by-eight diamond fiber cell his home. It seemed fitting that his prison resembled the diamond fiber tractor-trailer my mother had nearly died in, thanks to him. Unlike the trailer, this one didn't require blood to unseal it, but a symbol provided by Thomas. Like the other bordering cells, it was black as coal but betrayed a silvery sheen when the light hit it just right. A number stenciled in the titanium framework surrounding the cells noted the correct number for our target.

I traced the symbol on the seamless front and the material turned transparent from our side, though Kassus couldn't see us. The man looked rough. His formerly shaven head had sprouted a spiky Caesar's crown speckled with gray and black. A messy beard had assimilated his sharply defined goatee. The hard look of badassery in his eyes had dulled to a thousand-mile stare. He was probably bored out of his mind. I hoped this gave us a better chance at getting answers from him.

"Carrot or the stick?" I asked Jeremiah.

"I think carrot first," he said. "Perhaps I should go in alone for now. If he sees you, hatred may overwhelm anything we could use to induce cooperation."

"I was thinking the same thing." Justin Slade was probably the first name on Kassus's poop list.

Jeremiah closed his eyes. His dark hair shaded to gray and his facial structures subtly realigned until Moses was gone, replaced by the old man Conroy I remembered.

"That's a neat trick," I said.

"And a painful one," he said, touching his new features and wincing. "I once spent half a century in the wilderness with a lycan. After a great deal of study, I was able to decipher the biological magic which allowed her kind to shift."

"You can turn into a wolf?"

He shook his head. "I would require the physiological structure of a lycan for such a drastic shift. However, using the magic involved, I can make subtle changes in my face and body structure—enough to look like a different person."

"Could you disguise yourself to look like Cyphanis Rax or one of our enemies?"

"Learning a new face takes months. Learning mannerisms and mimicking a voice takes even longer." He shrugged. "It would be more useful to employ a Flark."

I shuddered. "Forget that."

Jeremiah gave me an understanding look. After all, Mr. Bigglesworth, a Flark who'd been Ivy's bodyguard had murdered Shelton's father and nearly killed me. Perhaps sensing I had no more questions, he traced the unlocking symbol on the cell and a door swung open to the inside. He went in and the door closed behind him. "Hello, Maulin." His voice sounded clear, as if the transparent wall didn't separate us.

Kassus looked up with surprise. "Conroy?" He stood. "What the hell are you doing here?" His eyes narrowed. "You come to get me out?"

"Perhaps," Jeremiah said, using his genteel southern accent to complete the disguise. "You managed to get yourself in quite a pickle."

Kassus ground his teeth. "That Slade boy put his girlfriend's daddy on me. I didn't do anything wrong."

The other man cocked his head and raised his eyebrows. "Really? I think summoning demons to attack a house sounds wholly illegal. If you'll remember it wasn't the boy who finally caught you, was it?"

The prisoner looked down. "No, the dragon did."

"Precisely, my good fellow." Jeremiah sighed. "I expressly forbid you and your men from interfering. I suppose greed overwhelmed your good senses."

"I took a gamble, old man."

"Yes you did, son." Jeremiah tsked. "And you lost. You have no one to blame but yourself for that."

Kassus growled and looked up. "Let me ask you again. Why are you here?"

"Quite simply, I need the designs for the portal blocker you were designing, and information concerning the aether pods Darkwater was building for Daelissa."

"What do I get out of this?"

Jeremiah folded his arms and leaned against the wall. "What do you want?"

The other man laughed sarcastically. "What the hell do you think I want? I want out of this hellhole."

"What would you do with your freedom?"

"Why the hell should it matter to you?" Kassus looked at Jeremiah, but the other man simply waited. The mage made a frustrated noise. "I could lie and tell you anything. Maybe I want to raise flying ponies for disadvantaged youth in the Overworld. You know, turn over a new leaf and all that jazz."

"And you know I'd see right through it." Jeremiah's tone lost the fake kindness and went ice cold. "Perhaps we should cut to the quick, son, before I have to resort to unpleasant means for retrieving the information."

Kassus blanched. He might have been one of the top battle mages in the world, but everyone knew Jeremiah Conroy was the most powerful Arcane alive. Of course, if Kassus really knew who Jeremiah was, he might have soiled his pants faster than a man at a laxative-eating contest.

"Fine," Kassus said in a slightly hoarse voice. "I want to hunt down Slade and teach him not to mess with me. He killed my brother and took away everything I'd built."

Old Man Conroy raised an eyebrow. "You realize your brother was the aggressor in that fight, don't you?"

"Doesn't matter to me." Kassus slashed the air with a hand. "Nobody kills my family and lives to tell the tale." His voice cracked ever so slightly and something in his eyes betrayed the fierce anger he displayed. My incubus instincts told me there was a weak foundation to this man's need for revenge because it all rested on an unsteady layer of desperation.

He can't take the isolation of prison. He feels like he's going crazy.
For a man accustomed to control, the fear of losing his sanity had to be more than he could bear.

Jeremiah laughed. "You don't know much about the boy, do you? Surely you realize who his mother is."

The other man looked confused. "Yeah, she's an Arcane. Your daughter."

This drew another chuckle from Jeremiah. "Frankly I'm surprised that particular subterfuge survived as long as it did." He looked directly into the prisoner's eyes. "For you see, Alice is in truth, Alysea. She and Daelissa were once the best of friends."

Kassus turned a shade paler. "Wait…so the Slade kid isn't just some punk ass demon spawn?"

"Perhaps you are familiar with the term Cataclyst."

The mage froze, eyes flashing wide like someone who just remembered where they left their car keys. His eyes then opened even wider like a person who realized said car keys had been eaten by a dragon.

Jeremiah grunted. "I see that you are. Slade is half Seraphim and half Daemos. You are more than welcome to pursue vengeance, but it's highly likely you'll end up on the losing end. If you'd like, I can request a trial by combat. You can face off against the boy."

Kassus broke his stunned silence. "No." His throat sounded dry. "Can you give me freedom?"

"Perhaps, in exchange for information, of course."

"I'll sing like a bird if you can get me out of here." He pushed himself up from his sitting position on the floor. "I can't take this place anymore."

"I'm certain you'll have to take an oath not to retaliate against the Borathens or Slades."

Kassus pshawed. "I'll sign anything, even if it ain't worth spit." He made a backhanded gesture. "I still won't go against the Slades or Borathens. Even if I killed the boy, I'd be a dead man walking."

Jeremiah nodded. "I'm glad the situation is clear to you. I'll go speak with Commander Borathen and see if he'll sign off on such an agreement."

A ray of hope crept into the prisoner's eyes. "Please, get me out of here."

Jeremiah exited, sealed the door behind him. Kassus, apparently thinking no one could see him, slumped against the wall and wept. "He is a desperate man. I believe if we free him, he will not bother you again."

Despite the accumulated hatred I felt for the despicable battle mage, I also understood how my killing his brother had probably sparked an insatiable need for vengeance. The Black Robe Brotherhood was essentially like the Arcane mafia. Their clashes with us had taken a toll on their manpower. The remnants working for Daelissa were still powerful, but nothing compared to what they'd been before.

If I could let bygones be bygones with Jeremiah, and if Kassus provided us with information that could allow us to turn the tide, I could forgive and forget. At the least, I could overlook all the crap and just deal with it.

"Let's talk to Thomas," I said.

Jeremiah looked at me for a moment. "It appears you may have the potential to win this war after all."

"Because I'm agreeing with you about freeing Kassus for information?"

"Partially," he said. "Sometimes a person must let go of the past if he hopes to build a better future."

"I'm not trying to start another argument, but isn't that ironic coming from you?"

He made a noise between a grunt and a laugh, though a smile never touched his lips. "My desire for revenge was not a constant over the centuries. I managed to let go of it and focused on building the Arcane Council, Arcane University, and forging the Overworld Conclave to protect the normals. The world was descending into chaos, and I saw that even with the Seraphim threat removed, I could not rest."

I had to admit, he had an impressive resume. "You thought Daelissa was dead after the war, didn't you?"

Jeremiah nodded. "It gave me some sense of peace. It was not until I discovered her alive that my need for revenge resurfaced. As I said, the fire waxed and waned over the centuries."

I sighed. "You've done a lot of good in the world, Jeremiah. I know you're not a bad person, but you've done some awfully misguided things."
Pot, meet kettle.

BOOK: Sinister Seraphim of Mine (Overworld Chronicles Book 8)
10.48Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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