Mortals & Deities (26 page)

Once outside the massive walls of the city the air cleared, and for the first time since arriving, Elith breathed without filling her nostrils with stench.

The Mah’Sukai spoke true. It is a stinking city.

Following Arderi Cor’s lead, they walked through the buildings that sat outside the main gates—more of a small city than just a collection of buildings—and headed down the main road. Placing a foot in the stirrup, Elith swung herself into the saddle of the beast she led and trotted ahead. Looking over her shoulder, she noticed that both men still led their horses by the reins, walking side by side. Unsure of whether this was another Human custom, she slipped from her saddle and stood until they caught her up. She then fell in behind them.

She had assumed their destination must be near since neither mounted. However, after walking along for some half an aurn, she decided she was mistaken. Less people traveled the road, and the countryside held fewer buildings the further they traveled away from the city. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that the city walls had been swallowed by the rolling hills and were no longer visible. Picking up her pace, she came in line with the brothers who had spent much of the time talking quietly while they walked. “Pardon, Mah’Sukai.” She bowed her head so as not to offend him. “She would like to know if you intend to walk the entire time. She has seen others on horseback, and does not think it would be improper to ride now. Not that she is questioning you.” Her statement caused Arderi Cor to laugh, though she did not understand why.

Arderi Cor reached over and clapped the Mah’Sukai on the shoulder. “She is really smitten with you, Alant!”

Clenching her jaw, she fought the urge to reach out and grab him by the throat. It took much self-control to ensure she did not. It was apparent the Mah’Sukai did not want this man dead.

“Give over, Arderi.” Punching his brother on the arm, the Mah’Sukai turned his attention to her. “Elith. I know we will need these horses if we are to travel league upon league cross-country. However, neither my brother nor I know how to ride.”

Stopping in the roadway, she reached out and took the reins from him. “This is a good place to learn, then.”

“What? Here?” Both men spoke over each other.

Waving a hand around to indicate the area, Elith looked from one to the other. “There is hardly anyone out here. Can you think of a better time to learn?”

Making his way to the side of his horse, Arderi Cor put a foot up into the stirrup. “I have to agree. There is no time like now. We will have to ride eventually. That is the reason I went and got these things. Besides, how hard can it be?” With a grunt, he stood in the stirrup and tossed his leg over. Once in the saddle, he clung onto the horn like a vise as the horse danced around in a circle.

Taking the reins he left dangling from the horse’s mouth, she slipped them over its head and handed them to him. “You will need these, Arderi Cor.” When she felt sure he would not fall off, she helped the Mah’Sukai into his saddle.

Over the next aurn, she instructed them in the basics. Riding a horse at a walk on level ground was relatively easy to master, and with only a few minor issues, they were riding adequately enough as they made their way down a small cart path to a large villa that sat well off the main road. The house appeared empty as they rode up. However, once they entered the cobblestone courtyard an elderly man came out of a side building and hobbled over to them.

Lifting a leg over the side of his horse, Arderi Cor stumbled and fell, landing on all fours in front of the old man. “By the Twelve! Are you all right, young sir?” The old man bent down and helped Arderi Cor to his feet.

“Aye. Just not my pride.” He brushed off his shirt and pants before looking up. “Is Master Vimith in?”

“I am sorry, young sir.” The old man shook his head, a look of concern still on his face. “You missed him by a few days now.” His eyes lit up and he jabbed a finger at the sky. “They have gone on a grand expedition!”

“Aye. I am aware of his trip. We were hoping he would employ our swords.”

Eyeing the boy up and down, the old man chuckled. “My Master could have used you, I am sure.” He placed a hand upon Arderi Cor’s shoulder. “Are you sure you are well? That was a nasty fall.”

This made Arderi Cor laugh. “Aye. I am fine.” Looking up at the Mah’Sukai, the two exchanged a look that Elith assumed was some sort of unspoken communication before he turned back to the old man. “Do you know which way they headed? Mayhaps we could catch them up.”

He reached up and rubbed his bald head. “Well. I am not certain, mind. Yet, I know they left away from Mocley. I think they headed down to Diamond Point. Though, I remember Master Timms complaining about crossing the Asgarthian Plains. I am not certain how the two relate. Never been further than Mocley, myself.”

With a last glance at the Mah’Sukai, Arderi held out his hand to the old man. “My thanks to you. We shall be fine.”

Once the old man shook his hand, he took a step back. “Fare well. May Alza’Dysta lend you his hunting skills to find them, and his brother Maja’Kasta bring you to their side safely.”

Mention of the gods made Elith twitch. Cutting her eyes at the Mah’Sukai, the Father’s words came back to her.
‘Find him and bring him safely to me as you have been trained.’
Guilt filled her as she sat on her mount. How could she have been so disobedient? She knew what she should be doing. She should kill Arderi Cor and subdue the Mah’Sukai right now! It would be easy. Now that she had spent time with them, she knew neither was a match for her.

Well, mayhaps the Mah’Sukai. Still, if I strike quickly enough.

Of its own volition, her hand drifted to her Ratave staff. Arderi Cor had remounted. In doing so, his horse shifted, turning his back toward her. If she struck now, he—

She flinched at a touch on her thigh.

The Mah’Sukai had ridden up to her other side and stared at her with a look of concern. “Are you well, Elith? You look, more…pale than usual.”

Removing her hand from her weapon, she tilted her head to the side. “Yes. She is well.” Pulling hard on the reins, she spun the horse around. “She is well trained in the layout of the land and in the art of tracking. If they are crossing the Asgarthian Plains, it should not be hard for her to find them.” Without waiting, she dug her heels in and her mount launched down the path away from the villa.

Elith did not understand why the event disturbed her so. She had not lost her memory—had not forgotten who or where she was. Yet, what she had felt troubled her even more. Did the Father just try to reach out and seize her mind? Another moment more and she would have killed Arderi Cor, she was certain. It was not the killing—she cared nothing for the boy—it was the fact that she would have done it without control over herself! As if she was in someone else’s body. This worried her more than losing her mind. Even during those times when she lost her mind, she had remained in control.

To become trapped in her mind as if she were a spectator, that would be a horror she would not survive.

Delmith Bathooll sat in his study. A large tome lay open on the desk beside him. The words in the tome were so faded that page after page required enhancement from the Essence to make them readable. The Elmorr’Antien people had always done an admiral job of recording the history on the Plane of Talic’Nauth. At least, as it pertained to them. It was natural that they would since they were the longest-lived race. Some of his people lived over seven hundred turns of the seasons, though the norm was closer to six-hundred and fifty. Time, however, was a great enemy. Not so much to his people—it was the records themselves that were at risk. The book next to him hailed from the second cycle, some twelve-thousand winters gone.

Twelve-thousand winters. Unimaginable!

History had always fascinated Delmith. Delving through the halls of time, discovering things that once were commonplace. The book he held in his hands, one from the fourth cycle a paltry four-thousand winters gone, told of horseless carts that flew through the air! He would have accounted such preposterous tales out of hand had he not seen one of the devices sitting in the museum of Hath’oolan—even if no one knew how it worked. The joy he felt about the Essence growing in strength, becoming more and more malleable…

These are exciting times!

Mayhaps he would see the device fly in his lifetime. Of course, this line of thinking brought him back to the Mah’Sukai and his Prince’s experiment with the Chi’utlan. Closing the book he held, he stood and walked to the bookshelf on the far wall. He slipped it into its rightful home, then ran his thin gray fingers down the spines of the others sitting on the shelf next to it. His collection of books would not have impressed anyone by their number, barely one-hundred in all. Yet, if anyone took a closer look—and understood what they saw—they would see that he had put together one of the finest collections of books on history mayhaps anywhere on Talic’Nauth. Many were handed down within his own family. It seemed that many of his male ancestors held the same love of the past, as did he. Though, he had added to the collection of books more than any of them. He sighed.

How have I found myself here?

For a Gray, he had achieved much. As a youngling, he tested high in his ability to Meld the Essence—higher even than many Blues. This natural skill had been the reason for his acceptance into the Chandril’elian. It was not unheard of for Grays to train there. The majority of Grays, however, never trained anywhere official. Most took up their family’s trade, living out their lives as best they could. They learned to Meld the Essence from their relatives.

His move to the Chandril’elian as a youngling was the catalyst for his befriending the royal Mocley twins, Aritian and Sarshia. Though he was happy with his mate, he still held a secret desire for the Blue Princess. Seeing her again only rekindled those long buried feelings.

I am a fool for ever considering she might return those feelings. Blues are Blues, after all.

A knock at his front door startled him. Rising, he left his study and entered the main living area of his home. It was a spacious villa for a Gray. His mate’s favorite flora from around the island filled the open courtyard-like entrance hall. He stopped and smiled at the bloom of a large white flower. He could not recall its name, though he knew Melisian would.

Approaching the door, he flinched when another hard rap echoed through its wood.

Who would be so impatient?

Reaching for the handle, his heart leapt into his throat.

Could it be?

No. His Prince had never visited his home in all the time he lived here. The knock came once more, this time with more force, and Delmith hurried to lift the latch.

A hand pushed open the door, forcing Delmith back. Prince Aritian strode into the entrance hall with a look of disgust on his face.
“It is about time, Delmith. Where could you possibly have been in this tiny little house of yours that it would take so long to answer the door?”

Retreating another step, Delmith bowed his head to hide both his shock as well as his shame. He could think of no answer anyway.

As usual, Aritian wore a red serota draped over his small frame. Gold markings decorated its hem and cuffs. With a sniff of distaste, his Prince walked further into the house, his large tear-dropped head swiveling from side to side.
“So this is where you scurry off to during those few times you leave the Chandril’elian.”
Aritian turned and looked at Delmith.

With a jolt, Delmith realized how rude he was being by standing there staring at Aritian.
“Yes. Welcome to my home, my Prince.”
Regaining some of his composure, he scurried past Aritian into the sitting area.
“Please, have a seat. Would you like a cup of Raz?”

“I would. Though I doubt what you have is worthy of the name.”

Delmith hesitated.

Aritian waved him away.
“Just sit, Delmith. We have much to discuss.”

Inclining his head once more, Delmith did as his Prince instructed.
“Have you learned something new, my Prince?”

“Learning is your job, Delmith. Though, I have just returned from the Chi’utlan.”
His eyes glistened deep and black.
“It is full, Delmith. In less than a moon’s time, it is once again full to bursting!”

Delmith knew this already. Since the day the Human Initiate, Alant, had vanished, Delmith had spent as much time as he could either in the hall leading to the chamber or in the chamber itself.

Aritian stood.
“That has to mean something. After our first test five winters gone, it took a full two turns of the seasons to refill! With the second test, it took only one. And with that whore’s son, the Chi’utlan filled in a mere five moons. I thought that amazing, until this time. It has been less than one moon!”
The Prince started to pace.
“We are close, Delmith. I can feel it.”

Delmith’s mind raced. He had anticipated this day, which had fostered him spending his eves at home instead of the Chandril’elian—to avoid his Prince. From the moment of Alant’s demise, Delmith had watched with dread as the Chi’utlan filled at an alarming rate. Looking at the zeal in his Prince’s eyes, he knew Aritian had no intention of stopping his experiments.
“I still have not discovered what went wrong with Alant’s test, my Prince.”

Rotating on a heel, the hem of his thin red serota spinning at his knees, Aritian glared down at Delmith.
“That does not diminish the fact that the Chi’utlan is full once more!”
His Prince rubbed his hands together.
“We must move forward.”

Delmith knew he did not have the words to sway his Prince. Still, how could Aritian even consider continuing with these experiments after what happened to the Human, Alant?
“Of course, my Prince, you are wise. I would still like to voice a bit of caution, however.”

“I am sure you would.”
His tone was dismissive. Pausing, Aritian’s eyes narrowed.
“I had such hopes for you, Delmith.”
A weak smile came to his thin black lips.
“Though, I should not have expected more. My father has always said that no matter how hard they try, a Gray will always be a Gray.”
Returning to his seat, he sat across from Delmith and crossed one thin blue-gray leg over the other.
“It seems as if you have shown that you are no different.”

“I am not sure I understand, my Prince.”

Aritian waved his hand through the air.
“It matters not. What does matter, however, is what you have learned over these last few moons.”

Delmith’s heart froze.
“I am afraid little, my Prince.”
His mind wandered to his mate, Melisian. The terror that a day would come when he would have an “accident” had forced him to look at life differently. He had set their affairs in order to relieve her of any financial burdens should he expire. It was morbid thinking. Still, he saw no other end to the path he now walked—trapped between his Prince and what he knew the rest of the Blues would think of their deeds.
“Many ancient tomes speak of the perils of using the Chi’utlan before it is ready. Of the corruption of the mind, the possibility of death. We have seen both in our own tests with the Chi’utlan. Yet, I can find no reference to what happened to Alant. The…crushing.”
He shifted in his seat.
“I do not think it is wise to continue, my Prince. At least not until we know more.”

Uncrossing his legs, Aritian leaned forward.
“I am afraid that we do not have the luxury of waiting any longer.”
When Delmith did not answer, his Prince continued.
“I have heard whispers that my sister, Sarshia, has been…asking questions about my interest in the Chandril’elian. I am not ready to have my father discover what I am attempting just yet.”

Now Delmith understood. Sarshia’s informants had been noticed. This would complicate matters. Not to mention add to his Prince’s determination to push forward sooner rather than later.
“What do you intend, my Prince?”

Prince Aritian rose and stared down at Delmith with fevered eyes.
“I intend to be the first Elmorr’Antien Mah’Sukai! I intend to protect my people, and not let the next War of Power send us into hiding. I intend to lead my people to the destiny and glory they deserve!”
After a pause, he turned and headed for the door.
“This next tenday will be filled with parties and appearances in celebration of my sister’s return. Use this time wisely, Delmith. For on the first day of the next tenday, we will conduct another test.”

Delmith felt his heart break. He thought of the two Silawaians remaining at the school, Jared and Shaith. Both were gifted students. Both fine Humans. He could not bear watching either of them die the way Alant had.
“I am not certain it is wise for us to lose another student so soon, my Prince. You know the Hon’Vanria has received several letters of inquiry from the Human Shapers of Mocley. If we have another student succumb so soon—”

Prince Aritian spun around.
“This is why I make the decisions, Delmith. You are far too weak for such a burden.”
Turning his back on Delmith once more, Aritian walked to the door and opened it.
“We shall not be using Initiates. I have decided to procure others for our testing purposes.”

Fear rippled through Delmith. Covering his mouth with his hand, he slowly stood.
“You cannot mean…me?”
His words came out as a choked whisper.

A wicked grin sprang to Aritian’s black lips.
“What a wonderful idea. I had not considered that.”
He laughed aloud when Delmith gasped.
“Oh, do not be so dramatic, Delmith. I have known for some time we would need other test subjects. Just this morn a ship arrived with what we need.”

“What we need?”
Clutching his quivering hands together, Delmith forced himself to step toward his Prince.

“Aye. Three Human Shapers who tragically died…”
His prince grinned.
“…in a house fire in Mocley. They have just arrived.”

“I do not think the Chi’utlan will work on a corpse.”
At least, he did not think it would. It did raise some interesting possibilities. If they
could
use the dead—

“They are not dead, you fool! They are being held at—”
Aritian paused and his smile grew.
“Well, it may be for the best if you do not know the particulars.”
His smile slipped from his face and Delmith wondered if his Prince knew of his meeting with Sarshia.

Delmith did not let his mind linger on the thought for long, however. This visit from his Prince had already shaken him far more than he cared to admit. He bowed his head.
“As you say, my Prince.”

Turning, Aritian walked down the small path that split Delmith’s front garden. He stopped when he reached the main street and looked back.
“You have one last tenday, Delmith. Use it wisely.”
And with that, he left.

Delmith continued to stand in his doorway, aimlessly looking out at the city long after his Prince had disappeared down the street. The sun sat high in an almost clear blue sky. A cooling breeze racked his skin. He noticed none of it. Stepping inside, he closed the door and fell against it. He knew he needed to get word of this to his Princess. Yet, why should he bother? The finality in his Prince’s last words was apparent.

How have I found myself here, indeed?