Revelation (Seeds of Humanity: The Cobalt Heresy) (16 page)

Co’Zar’I’Us shook his head in disgust. “If it were so simple, do you not think I would have already bargained here and there to ensure my permanent placement in your realm?” he asked derisively.

I nodded grudgingly. It was a long shot, but it was worth asking. “How much of a person’s soul can they lose before the damage is irreversible?” I hardly believed that I was asking such a question, of such a creature, in such a place.

Co’Zar’I’Us shrugged indifferently. “Each soul is unique, as each person is unique. Some mortals can lose a limb and hardly experience a shift in their personality; others,” he sneered, “and a simple scratch to the face will disrobe them entirely of the veneer in which they have wrapped themselves, utterly destroying their sense of identity.”

I sighed. There didn’t look to be a way out of this that didn’t end up with me facilitating what amounted to the absolute violation of a person at the most basic level. Then an idea hit me. “What if you left the vessel as soon as we saw signs that the drain was too great?” I blurted, this time of my own volition—for which I was thankful.

The Cloud King’s eyes narrowed. “Perhaps you would enlighten me as to why I would do such a foolish thing?”

I locked eyes with him as I gave serious consideration to what I was about to say. It was risky, and it tied me even tighter to this chaotic creature than I ever wished to be, but as usual it appeared that I didn’t have a choice.

“Because I would find you another one,” I answered reluctantly while my shoulders slumped for effect. I didn’t feel nearly as deflated as I was trying to appear, but I really wasn’t all that happy about this turn of events.

There was genuine shock in Co’Zar’I’Us’ eyes for a brief instant, but he gathered himself quickly. “You would find me another vessel, if I agreed to leave the previous one before my magnificent presence inflicted permanent damage on its imperfect body?”

I held up a finger. “I would find you ‘one’ additional vessel,” I corrected him, “and I would demand that you abide by the same stipulation with the second vessel, even though I would not be bound to provide you with a third.”

The Cloud King’s eyes narrowed again. “You use that word, ‘demand,’ as if you know what it means,” he said threateningly, “but in any event, I could not accept such a condition. Two vessels, whose service time would be significantly less compared to the usual methods I have employed, is barely a fraction of the value I require.” He paused for a moment before continuing, “Perhaps I should return you to where you came from? We could work through these tiresome details at a later time when you are more…acquiescent,” he said maliciously.

It was my turn to narrow my eyes. It looked like we were at a standstill, unless I budged on the number of vessels I would provide. “Give me a reasonable number, and we can be done with it now,” I bit out.

Co’Zar’I’Us locked eyes with me in an unyielding stare before holding up both hands, which were now equipped with well-defined fingers. “Ten,” he said triumphantly. “I require ten vessels under your proposed amendment.”

I wanted to groan, but I’d played enough poker to know who was usually holding the stronger cards. “That’s ridiculous,” I scoffed, putting on a show of throwing my hands in the air dismissively, “and frankly I doubt that The Guild would sign off on such an agreement.”

That seemed to deflate him a bit. “I could accept no fewer than seven,” he retorted stiffly.

I shook my head exaggeratedly. “And I couldn’t go more than three,” I shot back. “I’m really not even sure how I can do that without completely subjugating myself to you, which would essentially defeat the entire purpose of the arrangement from my end!”

Lightning pealed inside his form, and he began to rapidly expand again, taking on the familiar cyclone shape. “Five,” he roared, “and not one less!”

I lowered my face and shook my head, mostly to hide the smirk I couldn’t keep from my features. “I’ll agree to four, but only on the condition that I be granted a two year window to find you a new host once you’ve left the old one—and that you leave immediately upon my instruction.”

“And how am I to know that your measure of ‘permanent damage’ and mine will be the same?” he hissed. “I require a neutral third party to assess and confirm the damage.”

That was actually something I hadn’t considered. “Sounds easy enough,” I agreed, “when I return to Veldyrian, I’ll contact a member of The Guild and have them designate an appropriate assessor.” I can’t express just how surreal this whole situation was, but I was in too deep by then. The stray thought occurred that if I was actually on a slab somewhere about to be lobotomized, I mostly just didn’t want to think about it.

Co’Zar’I’Us glared at me before finally nodding agreement, which made my heart skip a beat in the figurative, not literal sense. In fact, I wasn’t even sure that I
had
a body while I was in his realm. I still didn’t know how all of that worked, and right then I didn’t care as long as I got what I needed.

“I have one final addendum of my own,” the Cloud King said, which gave me pause.

I had to keep a level head, so I inclined me head, “What is it?”

Co’Zar’I’Us’ face contorted into a thinly veiled sneer. “I have somewhat less faith in the Binding’s efficacy when it comes to enforcing the terms of our Pact upon you,” he explained with a hint of malevolence in his voice.

I shrugged, completely at a loss. “I don’t follow,” I said after a pregnant pause.

“As I said earlier,” the Cloud King explained, “I hear two voices when I speak with you…and I must be certain that my interests are protected.”

I was wary, but I had come too far to back out impulsively. “What did you have in mind?”

He waved his hand dismissively. “Nothing untoward, I assure you,” he said all-too-congenially. “I merely desire a more…indelible indication of our agreement.”

“Indelible,” I mused, “that doesn’t sound good for me.”

Co’Zar’I’Us chuckled. “It is nothing more strenuous than the language expressed in the standard Pact of Binding your Guild uses,” he said in an assuring tone, “and if you find that I have misrepresented the matter, you may absolve yourself of our agreement without my protestations. Do we have an accord?”

I closed my eyes and thought hard about what I was going to do. I nodded stiffly, “So long as what you’re suggesting doesn’t impede my ability to pursue my own agenda in any capacity, that’s fine.”

The Cloud King chuckled malevolently. “Oh, I assure you it will be nothing like that,” he replied with certainty, and I saw his hand begin to glow and crackle with electricity. “I merely desire a deeper location on which to set the Mark of Binding,” he explained as he drew his fist back.

I clenched my jaw. “Marks of Binding are worn on the skin—usually the upper torso,” I growled. “How much deeper are you talking about?”

Co’Zar’I’Us’ face erupted into a full-blown sneer, and it was impossible to avoid the sense of foreboding the expression evoked. “Just a few inches,” he promised, and plunged his crackling fist deep into the left side of my chest.

My entire body was wracked with spasms and my nerves were simultaneously overwhelmed and heightened to an impossible degree, making every, single, static-bound hair howl in pain.

I’m sure I would have screamed as well, but I lost physical control completely while we were intertwined. I could feel burning, crushing energy pouring out of the Cloud King’s form into my own.

After an agonizing period—which probably only lasted an instant but felt like an hour—he withdrew his hand from my chest and I collapsed to the fluffy cloud below.

“It is done,” Co’Zar’I’Us said reverently. “We are Bound and Marked, as agreed and written in the Binder’s flesh.”

I gasped for breath, and every inch of my skin felt like it was exploding in a random pattern which threatened to overpower my sanity. But I kept my focus and after a minute or so, I was able to feel my fingers and toes.

A few minutes later, I had regained enough sensation to try standing, so I did. Incredibly, I didn’t fall down and I found myself looking at the smug face of Co’Zar’I’Us the Cloud King.

“Now,” I whispered hoarsely, still lacking control over my vocal cords, “we return and battle the Iron Butcher together.”

Co’Zar’I’Us chuckled and shook his head sadly. “You truly do not know who you are about to fight, do you?” he asked with wonderment in his voice. “How wonderfully tragic…”

It was my turn to sneer as I drew myself up. “I don’t care who it is,” I spat, “I’ll destroy him, and you’re now bound to help me!”

Co’Zar’I’Us shook his head again. “You know the rules of our pact: in order to summon me to your world, you must prepare a suitable offering which will fuel my projection. The greater the offering, the greater my temporal presence’s power and duration,” he reminded.

“You will use your
own
power this time,” I said coldly, at which he scoffed but I held up a finger which quickly silenced him, “and after we’ve won I’ll provide you with one cup of mythicite – or rather, Gods Blood,” I said, holding my finger in the space between us emphatically for a few seconds before lowering my arm to my side. “After which time, you will receive compensation commensurate with standard Guild practices.”

“One cup,” he mused, obviously intrigued. It was at least ten times the standard rate for an appearance, to my understanding, and it was clearly enough to get his attention. However, he shook his head. “Your offer is generous, but the laws governing my kind are too strict: I must receive something tangible before manifesting at all,” he explained, and I sensed that he was truly distraught over his inability to accept the offer.

A Cheshire Cat-like smile then spread across his features suddenly, and I barely suppressed the urge to flinch at the prospect of further physical contact with him.

“However…there is something you could promise me which, combined with your proposed quantity of Gods Blood, would allow me to accept,” he offered mischievously.

I rolled my eyes. I had already offered more than he would ever get for such an arrangement, and he was still haggling with me. “What is it, Co’Zar’I’Us?”

He winced slightly at my use of his name, but kept his focus. “You have already found a suitable host for my first vessel,” he purred.

“Who is that?” I asked, suddenly intrigued.

“The half-man; you call him Dancer,” he explained with a savage grin.

The other eyebrow shot up my forehead and I was at a loss for words. “I…would have to ask him,” I stammered.

The Cloud King shook his head adamantly. “You will not ask him: you will instruct him, using every last shred of your meager authority over him. He will be my first vessel,” he said with finality.

I exhaled slowly. The truth was that I doubted it would be a hard sell, since Dancer coveted anything which might give him another edge in combat. He considered combat to be the most perfect form of dance, and he strove to master every step before he died.

The little man had been quite clear that the length of his life was less important than how completely he mastered his craft, which is part of why he had willingly enrolled in the Gladiatorial Proving. It was an annual event which was usually reserved for criminals who wished to expunge parts of their records by first winning in the arena, and then by assisting a journeyman High Wizard like myself in his travels.

It was there that he had caught my attention by killing a dozen ‘giants,’ who were huge, lumbering brutes between seven and eight feet tall that had been captured raiding a village on the outskirts of Veldyrian territory. He had brought them all down in less than a minute—using nothing but his magical spear.

“I doubt he’ll object,” I answered eventually. “But you
will
leave him when I tell you, and if you desire to file a grievance with The Guild, you can do so at your leisure,” I said in a tone which brooked no dispute.

Co’Zar’I’Us looked like he wanted to argue, but he visibly relaxed and nodded his head. “That is acceptable. The circumstances of our joining are extenuating, to say the least,” he admitted. “It is a great leap on my part to agree to these amendments,” he boomed, his voice suddenly explosive. “I will hold you to our bargain, wizard!”

“Of that, I have no doubt,” I assured him, as I knew I had just struck a bargain with a not-entirely-proverbial Devil. “Now, however, you will help me.”

He nodded. “I will, but my means are somewhat limited at present,” he said with obvious disappointment.

I was shocked. “What do you mean?! I don’t need to remind you of the consequences of your failure to uphold your end of our bargain,” I seethed, “or do I?”

“I merely mean that in order to manifest without an offering on hand,” he retorted somewhat more meekly than I had expected, “I must channel my magnificence through one of your companions, and it cannot be the half-man,” he warned. “He will not serve as a suitable vessel if I channel through him now.”

I furrowed my brow. “Then who do you suggest?” I asked impatiently.

“The Desert Knight will suffice, though he will pay a significant physical price,” he said with a shrug of his ethereal shoulders. “I must warn that what you ask is perhaps beyond our combined abilities; your foe is ancient, older than even I,” he warned. “I cannot guarantee anything but a successful retreat for you and the others.”

I felt cold fury rising in my gut. “You’ll have to do better than that,” I threatened.

The Cloud King shrugged his shoulders indifferently. “It makes no difference to me whether the Desert Knight lives or dies, so I will of course do my best since one cup of Gods Blood will more than replenish whatever resources I might expend on your behalf.” He paused for emphasis. “I am merely suggesting that retreat might be preferable for all involved.”

“For all except Aemir,” I spat.

He locked eyes with me. “This is not some petty squabble, you infantile ape,” he growled. “You are about to enter into not only a battle, but a war with a foe who is greater than yourself.”

I admit I was a bit stunned by this proclamation, so I chuckled in response, trying for a maniacal sound and pulling it off rather well. “You’re so certain I’ll fail, are you?”