The Sin War Box Set: Birthright, Scales of the Serpent, and The Veiled Prophet (28 page)

A moment later, Uldyssian spotted a rounded form. He dove toward it, reaching out and cautiously turning it over.

As he did, a cough escaped the shape. “U-Uldyssian? Strange. I-I thought I was rescuing
you?”

“I’m so sorry, Achilios! I never meant for this to happen! Can you stand?”

He heard the hunter grunt in pain. “Left leg’s stiff, but I think it’s just very sore. Give—give me a hand.”

As Uldyssian did, his own body reminded him again of what it had suffered. The two men groaned simultaneously.

With a weak laugh, Achilios remarked, “W-We are a stalwart pair, eh?”

That brought a chuckle from Uldyssian. “I remember worse scrapes than this when we were children. We didn’t groan at all, then.”

“Children are more resilient than old men!”

They slowly wended their way back up. More than once, one or both of them slipped. As they finally neared the top, Uldyssian heard the slow clatter of hooves. Mendeln and Serenthia had finally caught up.

“I promised you that we would find them,” his brother said with unnatural calm. “You see?”

But the woman did not waste time answering him, instead sliding down from the animal and racing, not toward Uldyssian, but rather
Achilios
.

“Are you all right?” she demanded, putting her arms around him.

“I’m fine…I am.”

Serenthia did not seem convinced, but she finally turned to Uldyssian. “What happened?”

He opened his mouth to explain, but Achilios cut him off. “I was careless, Serenthia, that…that was all. Fortunately, my good friend realized something had happened and came back for me.”

She ran her hands over the hunter’s arms, chest, and face, not relaxing in the least until she was certain that his injuries were shallow. “Praise be. If something had happened…”

Uldyssian saw that Achilios had spoken the truth when he had said that Cyrus’s daughter had finally turned to him. It was one of the few things to make him happy this night. The two were a good match.

He felt his legs starting to give. Keeping his tone level, Uldyssian said, “Let’s get to the horses.”

It took effort for both men to move, which caused renewed concern for Achilios from Serenthia. “Your leg!” she gasped. “Is it broken?”

“No, just bruised, like my pride. I should know to watch out for low branches.”

“Give me your arm,” Serenthia insisted. She all but seized the hunter from Uldyssian and guided him toward his horse. Despite all that he had been through, the scene momentarily made Uldyssian smile.

Other hands suddenly came to his own aid. “Let me help you,” Mendeln said, appearing next to him as if by magic. “Put your arm over my shoulder.”

His brother’s presence both comforted and shamed him further. Uldyssian muttered, “Thank you, Mendeln.”

“We are all we have left.”

His words struck the older son of Diomedes to the core. He had concerned himself so much with Lylia that he had not truly considered Mendeln in as much depth as he should have. But with that renewed concern came again thoughts of what would happen to Mendeln and the others if they remained with him.

“The Torajan jungle,” Mendeln remarked quietly, without warning. “The deepest of them all, southwest of Kehjan.”

“What about the Torajan jungle?”

Blinking, his brother glanced at him. “Torajan? What do you mean?”

“You mentioned the jungle. Specified the Torajan one, southwest of the great city.”

“Did I?” Mendeln pursed his lips, but did not otherwise seem startled at his lapse of memory. “It does strike me as a place to go, if we are not returning to Partha.” He nodded toward his mount. “I have some provisions and water, enough for us to get started, at least. Admittedly, that and having two riders slowed us down during the chase.”

Uldyssian could not hide his confusion. “You gathered supplies? When?”

“They were already prepared. I assumed that it was an extra mount you had to abandon at the last moment.”

A glance at the horse ascertained for Uldyssian that it was not the dark beast ridden by Lylia. Yet what explanation was there for a fully laden animal found waiting just when his brother needed one?

Not certain whether this was a gift or bait of a sort, Uldyssian thought again of the jungles. There
was
merit in the suggestion, despite its questionable origin. Somehow, coming from Mendeln, he doubted that it had been planted by the demoness.

“The Torajan jungle,” he muttered a second time, now with more conviction.

“You want to go there.” It was not a question.

With a grim nod, Uldyssian replied, “I don’t think I have any choice.”

“We
do not have any choice.”

Uldyssian tightened his grip on his brother’s shoulder, grateful for Mendeln’s determination. “We.”

“Do not mistake me, Uldyssian. I am referring to Achilios and Serenthia, too.”

“What
about
us?” called the hunter from the saddle. Even as he asked, he pulled the trader’s daughter up to him. No one questioned the change in riding partners.

“We plan to ride to the Torajan jungle,” Mendeln answered bluntly before Uldyssian could properly phrase the suggestion himself.

“Torajan.” Achilios cocked his head to the side. “The densest, most unknown, I’ve heard. Few folks there. Toraja is the only city, the people said to oil their skins black and file their teeth like daggers.” He let out a laugh. “Sounds like a delightful place to visit.”

Uldyssian thought of the journey ahead. They would first have to travel through other unexplored and possibly treacherous regions before reaching their destination. In truth, there was really only one, immense jungle, but, being territorial, men always divided up places and gave them different names. The Torajan jungle just happened to be a particular piece of the much vaster one. In fact, assuming they made it that far, it was very likely that they would not realize it for days after.

He could not imagine Serenthia in such a place. “Serry—”

“If you say one word about me staying behind, Uldyssian ul-Diomed, I’ll teach you to regret it. There’s no question as to whether I’m going.”

Achilios grinned. “And you know that I won’t argue with her, either.”

Well aware of that, Uldyssian nodded. However, he needed them to understand the urgency of the situation. “If you come with me, there’s no returning to Partha. I won’t go back. There’s too much of a chance that it’ll be near impossible to leave again without arousing the entire town.”

This brought an immediate acknowledgment from Mendeln. Seeing that, Achilios and Serenthia quickly acquiesced.

“I have some supplies and water,” Uldyssian’s brother informed them.

“I’ll provide fresh meat along the way,” the hunter returned without a trace of conceit. All there knew that Achilios would be able to keep his promise with ease.

There really was only one thing left to say and Uldyssian had to say it now. “Thank you…I’d rather you all stayed back, but…thank you.”

As Mendeln mounted, he said, “They will discover us gone come the dawn. We should be as far away as possible, by then.”

No one could argue with that logic. When the Parthans realized what had happened, some of them would surely go out hunting for Uldyssian, at least at first. He hated abandoning them, but it was for their own good. They would soon find out that their gifts were, in truth, nothing. They would feel tricked and anger would replace adoration.

As he led the party off, Uldyssian thought of how violent that anger might become. Had he left the others in Partha, they might have become the focus of the townsfolk’s ire. Certainly, they would have been run out of it. In a sense, Mendeln, Achilios, and Serenthia were better off with Uldyssian.

At least, for the moment.

Lucion stared into the bowl of blood, his gaze intense. He had seen everything occurring since first casting the spell in coordination with the other two demons. He had found
her
—Lilith—in the arms of the mortal knave and had planned well his sister’s unveiling before the fool. What a delicious piece of work that had been. All her arrogance had been channeled into futile posturing and anger. She had turned on her own puppet, finally abandoning him.

And there, Lilith had made the greatest of mistakes.

The vision in the bowl finally began to fade, the result of the last of the life essence fading from the blood. Lucion could have redone the spell, but that would have required new bartering with Astrogha and Gulag, who would demand much more than the simple offering he had given them the first time. That was the trouble with both demons and humans; they always wanted more.

No, Lucion would handle this purely on his own, for the reward would be one too precious to share with anyone else. It would not be difficult to keep his two counterparts ignorant, for there was much that he had done since assuming his role as Primus of which they were unaware…of which even his
father
was unaware.

“Thank you for laying the groundwork, sister dear,” Lucion rasped. He was also grateful to the late Malic and Damos, servants who had fulfilled their duties, whether they knew it or not. It had been a shame to lose both of them, but Lucion already had a notion as to a competent replacement for the high priest and there were always more vicious morlu. What was important was that by touching Malic’s demon limb—which, knowing the cleric’s greed and his sister’s sense of irony, had been a foregone conclusion—Lilith had not only revealed herself, but had inadvertently removed, for a brief moment, any magical shields she had created.

It had been at that moment that a patient Lucion had cast the spell preparing the downfall of her plans. He had arranged so that when certain elements went into play, Uldyssian ul-Diomed would see her for what she actually was. It had all gone so perfectly. She had even played into it further, in her fury twisting the facts so that her puppet would not realize what was the truth and what was lies.

And leaving Uldyssian ready to be manipulated by him.

Lucion’s grin widened—then faded as the sensation that he was being watched overcame him. He immediately searched not with his eyes, but rather with his mind, pretending to stare at the fading scene in the bowl while in actuality scouring the chamber of the other presence.

Yet, despite his best efforts, he found no one but himself. Still wary, the son of Mephisto quickly searched the temple for the other two demons. He found Gulag down below, the destructive beast tearing apart morlu for the simple pleasure of it. Other morlu attacked the demon with gusto, inflicting wounds that immediately resealed. This lack of success did not in the least dull their hunger; they simply attacked anew as Gulag ripped another of them apart. The demon of destruction knew that so long as he did not eat any of the broken bits, he could cause as much mayhem as he desired. The morlu would simply be resurrected with the end of the cycle, their slaughter only making them even more vicious warriors when next they fought.

Satisfied that it was not Gulag, Lucion sought then for Astrogha. The spider was a more cunning creature, being of Diablo’s calling. If either of the two thought to spy upon him for their own goals, it would be that one.

But Astrogha remained in one of the shadowed corners he preferred, dining at this moment on what little remained of Brother Ikarion. Around the shrouded, multilimbed form, smaller arachnids scurried. They were of the essence of the demon, extensions of him that did his bidding while he waited.

Could it have been one of them? Lucion considered, but knew that even the Children, as Astrogha called the creatures, bore his taint. Lucion would have recognized him in them.

Still motionless, he surveyed the hidden chamber once more, but again found nothing. Demons, being what they were, were prone to unnatural distrust and Lucion knew that even he was not immune from that.

He finally pushed the incident from his mind. All that mattered was Lilith’s puppet. She had set him on the path; Lucion would now complete his education.

Or, if the human proved to be nothing of value after all,
destroy
him.

In a place that was and was not real, a figure shrouded in black materialized. Around him there was nothing but absolute darkness, yet he showed no discomfort in being there. In fact, this was
home
for him, as much as anywhere had been in a thousand lifetimes.

He waited in silence, aware that the one with whom he needed to speak would come when it was right to do so. The shrouded figure understood that it might mean waiting for what seemed days, weeks, or even years, but that did not matter. In the other place, that which was called Sanctuary, no time would pass at all. He would return at the very moment that he had left.

Which still might be too late.

There was no sound, no wind. He felt solid ground beneath his booted feet, but knew that to be illusion. In this place, everything that existed was but the dreams of his teacher.

Then…from above there came illumination, a warm light that stirred his tired bones. He gazed up, his eyes immediately adjusting to the difference. Above him, what appeared to be an array of distant stars formed. At first, they clustered together, but quickly began to spread far apart.