Servant: The Dark God Book One (Volume 1) (51 page)

The monster took River back to the wall and chained her with double the chains. When it was finished, it turned to face Talen.

* * *

The Mother spoke into Hunger’s mind. “As soon as we have the one bred to be the overseer in our control, you will take the others and quicken your brethren.”

“Yes,” he said, and his heart fell. Hunger had done all she had commanded. He had kept his part of the bargain. But she had just lied to the boy. And if she lied to her overseer, why would she ever keep her word to him, a thing destined for the devouring?

But what could he do? He could not fight her.

In anger, he reached forward and took the boy by the throat.

* * *

Talen was not a monster. He was not! And yet his desires told another story. The monster’s rough and stony hand closed round his neck, and then something probed along the seams of Talen’s being.

Reflexively he closed himself, just as River had taught him.

The monster readjusted its grip and probed again, nipping and biting all about him.

Talen held himself tighter, felt the monster’s frustration.

“Open yourself,” the woman crooned.

She sounded like River had that night when he’d almost died. Open yourself, close yourself. Open, close. A wave of desire washed over Talen, but he held tight to the thought of River.

The monster caught a snag.

The scene back at the house came to his mind. “A body,” River had said, “can only accept so much Fire at once.”

The words reverberated in him: a body could only accept so much Fire at once.

He had poured forth Fire that would easily kill ten men. He could pour forth a flood. He had been bred to it. And he’d been given one tiny flaw.

Talen looked at the monster. He could pour forth a flow that could kill ten men, but could it kill a monster? He knew how to open and close himself. He only needed to fling himself wide at the right moment.

“Open,” the woman said, and this time he could not resist her ease.

He felt the monster rip into him.

Talen prepared to fling himself wide, but then he was lost, floating, in his body, but out of it.

His panic rose. He’d missed his chance!

“River,” he called in fear.

With a roar like rushing water, a door burst open within him and another one behind it. He could perceive the chaos of the monster outside that first door, and beyond it, behind the second door, stood the woman.

She was beauty and power like nothing he could imagine. A being worthy of his every devotion. He longed to make her happy. But the truth sang in his bones. He knew she was an illusion. Knew her promises would turn to dust. And yet he didn’t care.

No, he said to himself. The link between them must be magnifying her effect. He focused on Da and River, on the monster.

“Well done,” she said.

He basked in her gratitude and knew he was hanging by a finger. He was slipping, sliding, falling into a powerful river from which he knew he would never return.

He had to act quickly. He could not withstand this longing.

The monster wrapped its fingers around his being.

“Yes!” Talen shouted into the roar of noise. “Come and take me!” Then he threw open his doors and poured himself forth.

The Fire coursed from him and into the monster’s arm.

Talen ripped himself wider, a massive rent. The Fire crashed around him like turgid rapids.

But the monster simply swallowed it up.

“Yes,” the woman said. “That is good.”

How much Fire did it take to break a man? How much did it take to break a monster? Talen had no idea, but what he was doing didn’t seem to have any effect.

Talen opened himself as wide as he could.

Black spidery lines ran up the creature’s arm, spreading down its side and along its chest. But the creature showed no sign of breaking.

Fear rose in him. This wasn’t going to work. He’d been a fool! He should have run to Uncle Argoth.

He tried to pull away but could not, and he didn’t really want to anyway.

No, Talen thought. No! He searched for more to give, to release all that was in him. And then he felt something slip. He had been standing in the rush, watching it flow by. Now he knew he simply needed to let go, to flow with the Fire. He had his weapon. He had his one tiny flaw.

“What is he doing?” the woman asked in warning. “Stop it. Close him up.”

Talen ripped the remnants of the wall that stood between him and the monster and let go. Pain shot through him, and instead of standing in the Fire and watching it flow away, the Fire picked him up, engulfed him, carried him like a piece of flotsam.

So much Fire.

The tips of the fingers of the monster lightened like ash. A wave of whiteness passed up the creature’s arm.

“It’s too much,” said the woman. “Close him!”

* * *

The boy’s power was immense. His pool of Fire vast. Hunger had never felt such power in anything he’d ever eaten. He hadn’t felt it in the Mother, and she was the most powerful thing he knew.

The Fire raged, and Hunger desperately tried to devour it all. The amounts roaring through him to his stomachs was astounding. But what shocked him was that, Lords, he felt pain.

But no, it was the Mother’s pain. How could that be?

The link, he realized. She used Hunger to wield powers she could not. And the link was exposing her to the heat of the raging Fire of the boy.

“It’s too much!” she cried.

An idea shot through Hunger. Hope sprang forth.

“No!” she said and tried to break her bond to him, but Hunger held her fast.

“Release me!” she commanded.

“Never,” Hunger cried, and instead of funneling the boy’s raging might into his stomachs, he directed it all through his bond to the Mother.

* * *

Talen no longer watched the Fire. He was the Fire. He was a furnace, an inferno, a roaring, molten sea. He flowed forth, the Fire engulfing everything. His vision blurred. His body screamed.

The woman yelled, but her voice was drowned out by the rushing of the Fire.

He felt her trying to close herself against him, but the monster was fighting her.

The woman yelled, commanded the monster to let go.

The creature ignored her.

“Here,” Talen said, “is my heart’s desire.” And he gave himself, every whit.

The surge of Fire raged into the monster, turning its dirt and grass white as ash.

The woman screamed. There was a deafening roar. And then all flashed a blinding white, and Talen’s world cracked.

The shock tore the monster into pieces, flung Talen like a leaf, and hurled the others in the room into the rock. The Creek Widow tumbled away and crashed into the pallid beast, the bowls of liquid light splashing over the walls.

Talen reeled and saw a body lying below him.

He expected to slam into the ground or wall and braced for it, but he twisted and hovered above the scene.

He looked closer at the body on the floor, and saw it was his body.

River coughed. She lay on the floor, tangled in her chains. She got to her hands and knees. “Talen,” she said.

“River!” he yelled.

But she did not respond.

“Sister!”

She did not hear him.

The fact of the body on the floor finally registered with him and Talen grew very silent.

He’d expected pain would vanish at the moment of death, but he hurt all over. He felt as if he’d lost something essential, a leg or an arm.

He looked about to see if the others were moving. Ke lay on his side, face to the wall.

Something caught Talen and tugged him around.

It was a hideous thing, all mottled blue with many twisting limbs and too many eyes.

“Save them,” it said in a voice of gravel. “My pretty girl. My wife. Unravel her binding.”

Talen tried to pull away, but couldn’t.

“Quickly,” it said.

A piece of the creature holding him struggled and then broke away and flitted off over its shoulder. Talen knew this abomination was the monster. It looked nothing like it had in that body of grass and stone, but he knew it was the many souls of the thing.

It pulled on him with violence and carried him to his body.

Another part of the monster wriggled free and flitted away.

“Quickly,” it repeated. “She keeps them in the room where she sleeps.” Then it somehow stuffed him back into his body.

Pain slapped him, left, and came back in earnest. Talen gasped for air.

Another part of the monster began to writhe.

A loud buzzing filled Talen’s ear, and something black darted past the creature.

The monster turned as if alarmed.

“Find my stomachs,” it said. “The ones she already took. Unravel them.”

Something struck the monster, seemed to bite or bore into its back. The monster winced in agony, but continued to close Talen in.

“Loose them,” it said. “Set them free.”

Talen’s vision of this new world diminished like someone had drawn closed the mouth of a sack, leaving nothing but three horrid eyes. Then they too winked out and the monster, the wicked buzz, the motion and light—all of it vanished.

Talen gasped and choked in a mouthful of dust.

He couldn’t see. Couldn’t breathe. Lords, he hurt. Something was broken inside his chest, cutting his innards like a knife.

He rolled over and cried out at a searing pain in his ribs, a pain that stole his vision and turned it into a flash of light. “Merciful Creators,” he prayed, imploring, begging for help. “Da.”

But the pain was too great and everything reeled to the side.

48

Shim

TALEN AWOKE WITH his eyes closed, wailing in pain.

“Talen,” a voice so soft he almost didn’t hear it. “Brother.”

It was River. But Talen couldn’t contain his wails.

River stroked his forehead. “Shush,” she said gently. “Shush.”

He gritted his teeth, tried to stop. He panted and then the wailing turned to sobs, great wracking sobs and tears streaming down his face.

He opened his eyes.

Blood had run out of one of River’s nostrils and dried in the dust on her face. The odd beast light still lit the room behind her, but it had diminished greatly.

“Where’s Da? Ke?”

A weary grief rose in River’s eyes. “Ke is fading fast.”

“And your father,” said the Creek Widow, “let us hope that he has been gathered by the ancestors.” Talen turned and looked at her. She’d tried to wipe it away, but he could see her mouth had been smashed. Dried blood caked the edges of her lips. It caked her gums. She was missing two teeth on one side.

A sob rose in him. But he swallowed it. He could not fathom Da being gone.

Talen closed his eyes and composed himself, then opened them again.

“It wanted me to unravel its stomachs,” he said.

The Creek Widow narrowed her eyes.

“The monster,” said Talen. “Before it put me back.”

“Talen,” Uncle Argoth said, “how did you do it? What magic was that?”

Talen shrugged. “River had said you could kill a man by giving him too much Fire. I gave the monster everything.”

“Incredible,” Uncle Argoth said.

The Creek Widow shook her head. “My boy”—she took his hand—“My bright, shining boy. You have snatched victory from the jaws of death.”

“But I didn’t,” he said. “The monster put me back.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The monster,” said Talen. “It put me back into my body.”

“But the monster lies in pieces,” said Argoth.

“It was there, on the other side. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

“This place,” said the Creek Widow surveying the chamber. “It will take a great many days to understand what went on here.”

“Is the woman gone?” asked Talen.

“Can you feel her inside you?” asked Uncle Argoth.

Talen turned inward. He could not feel her. “I heard her scream,” he said.

“Yes,” said Uncle Argoth. “We heard it also.”

“There were doors between us,” said Talen. He felt inward and could find no trace of that link between him and the woman. “They are gone.”

“Let us hope. But even if she is gone,” said Uncle Argoth, “I do not think her sisters will sit long. To them we are mad bulls broken from the pens and goring the good villagers.”

“Talen,” said River. “Do you think you can stand? We need to make our way out while this odd light lasts.”

“I can stand,” he said and rolled over and pushed himself to his hands and knees. Every joint of him protested in pain. His head swam. But he forced himself up. “I can stand.”

A multitude of what looked to be pale sea kelp littered the chamber floor. “What is that?” he asked.

“The woman’s creatures,” said River.

“Or were they her children?” asked the Creek Widow.

“We should take some to examine,” said Uncle Argoth.

“I’ve tried to pick them up,” said River. “I cannot seem to handle them.”

Uncle Argoth bent and tried to pick one up, but it only slid aside. He tried again and failed.

The Creek Widow shook her head. “There are simply too many questions. And we don’t have time for them. We need to see to Purity.”

* * *

When Sugar recovered from the explosion, she ran to Mother who was still chained to the wall and knelt next to her. Mother was covered in dust, slumped. The living collar still coiled about her neck.

“Mother,” Sugar said and grabbed her hand. “Mother.”

She did not respond.

“Please,” Sugar said and felt for a pulse on Mother’s wrist. There was nothing. She moved her fingers. Moved them again, and then felt something. She pressed harder. It was a pulse. It was weak, but it was there.

Legs too was covered in dust. They all were. Legs also had a cut on his head, and the blood had mixed with the dust on his face and in his hair. “Sugar,” he called.

“Here,” she replied, and then Mother stirred.

Sugar turned round. “Mother,” she said.

Legs felt his way over and grasped Mother’s other hand.

And then Mother wearily opened her eyes. She took a shallow exhausted breath, and then looked up at Legs and then Sugar.

“My dears,” she said. “Bless the Six.”

“They’re gone,” Sugar said. “We can get you out of here.”

Mother licked her dry and peeling lips then reached out to touch Sugar’s and then Legs’s face. She smiled wanly. “You shining children. You are the moon and the sun.”

“Oh, Mother,” Legs said and pressed into her in a tight embraced. Sugar pressed in as well, gave her mother a kiss on the cheek then enfolded Legs and Mother in her arms.

“They killed Da,” Sugar said.

“I know, Sweet,” Mother said.

The warmth of Mother’s body, the stroke of her hand, the touch of her cheek on Sugar’s skin—suddenly the stone within her melted and was replaced with a wave of emotion that rose from within, bringing to the surface the grief that had deserted her since the mob attacked. She sobbed tears into the dust on her mother’s neck.

“You’re wonders,” Mother said and stroked her hair. “You both are wonders. Thank the Six.”

Then Mother winced and cried out in pain.

Sugar pulled back. “Matiga!” she called.

“We’re here,” Argoth said behind her.

The Creek Widow looked down at Mother and rolled up her dusty sleeves. “You don’t look good, my girl. But we can fix that.”

“Look at that collar,” Argoth said. “It’s moving. Can you still feel the woman?”

Mother reached up and felt the collar about her neck. It moved slightly at her touch. “The link with her is broken,” she said.

“We’ll find a way to remove that,” Argoth said.

Mother shook her head. “I’ve seen things here,” she said. “The woman took me abroad one night. Things are not right.”

“What do you mean?” the Creek Widow asked.

“The world of souls,” Purity said.

Behind them Ke dragged himself to his feet. He was battered and bleeding about the head. He looked like he’d been worked over by a sledgehammer. He said, “We need to leave. Our light is burning low, and we do not know what else resides in these warrens. We need to get out.”

The Creek Widow nodded. “How do you feel?”

“Like a bag of rocks,” he said.

She motioned at the chains holding Mother. “Help me with these,” she said.

River and Zu Argoth joined her, and despite the fact that they were all injured, they pulled the chains from the wall.

“Help your brother,” the Creek Widow said to River. “Argoth and I will take care of Purity.”

River went to help Ke. Zu Argoth reached down and gathered up Purity and her chains in his arms.

“What about Da?” Talen asked motioning at the monster into which the soul of Zu Hogan had been transferred.

Ke put his arm around River’s shoulders and leaned on her. “He lies there yet,” he said grimly. “I don’t think the woman had the time to fully quicken that beast. We’ll come back for him. We’ll figure it out, Talen.”

The Creek Widow took Legs’s hand. “Sugar and Talen, lead us out of this place.”

Sugar let Talen lead because she didn’t want to release Mother’s hand. She didn’t want to stop stroking her arm. She didn’t want to ever let her go again.

They began the journey back, but they could not move quickly with River supporting Ke and Argoth and the Creek Widow taking turns carrying Purity. Nor could Talen do much more than shuffle with his injuries. All this meant that the torches burned out long before they’d reached the entrance to the caves.

The stood in the darkness and Sugar wondered how they would ever make it back. Then Legs spoke up. “I think I recognize this place. Give me the lead.”

Sugar used the rope in her sack and tied them all together, and then they moved forward, hands held out to feel in the darkness before them. Not long after, Legs said, “I do know where we are!”

“How can you know that?” Talen asked.

“Orientation points,” said Zu Argoth. “A dead spot where there is no breeze, the place where you can hear the pouring of distant water, the corridor with the double echo.”

“I listen to mice and mosquitoes, remember?” Legs asked.

Talen shook his head. There was definitely more to that boy than met the eye.

Legs made his way to the front, and then they continued forward. They walked for what seemed hours in their shuffling line. They did take some wrong turns, but Sugar eventually heard the water falling over the rocks. It wasn’t long after that that Legs led them out of the cave and into the light.

Sugar blinked in the sunlight. The warm air of early evening wrapped about her like a blanket. She took in a glorious breath of sunlight and air. They’d done it!

Argoth lay Mother down, and Sugar dropped to her knees next to her in relief.

A moment later the woods about the cave boiled to life with men armed with swords and axes and spears and bows, all wearing Shoka blue and green.

“The sleth woman!” a man shouted.

A murmur arose, and the bowmen drew their arrows, pointed them at Sugar and the others. There had to be at least a hundred of them. Behind them teams of hunting dogs began to bark and strain at their masters leashes.

* * *

Argoth looked at the faces of the men surrounding him. He looked at their dogs. They stood thirty paces away, the proper distance for confronting sleth. He knew all of them. Then Shim pushed his way through and stood at the front of their line.

“Captain Argoth,” the warlord boomed. “Whom do you serve?”

For a moment Argoth faltered. Had he misjudged Shim? Were all of his pleadings and talks of alliances just a ruse? After all, it was Shim who had told him the lie that Skir Master had lost his beast. It was Shim who had wanted him to expose the Order just before the Skir Master arrived.

“I serve you, Lord.”

“Oh, but I have a Bailiff here that says the monster is yours.” Shim motioned at the Bailiff of Stag Home. Next to him stood the man they called Prunes, a warrior of many battles, a man that was frightened by neither death nor torture. His face, oddly enough, shone with fear. And Argoth realized these men were preparing to slaughter them.

Argoth shook his head at the futility of their fight. They’d just dealt a blow to an unimaginable enemy, and these fools were going to kill them.

“What did you say?” asked Shim.

“The monster,” said Argoth, “is destroyed.”

“And its master?”

“Fled. But you can search the cave and verify what we say. You will find a room with the bodies of Hogan the Horse of Blood Hill who fell trying to protect the people of this land as well as the bodies of nine more terrors that would have been unleashed upon us.”

The Warlord turned to the Bailiff. “Since you bring the accusations, I’m going to let you lead the search. Pick fifty men.”

The Bailiff turned and looked at Prunes who appeared to quail at the prospect of entering the cave, but he did not refuse and soon the two of them had selected the men to go with them. They decided to use Purity’s daughter as the guide, bound her hands, and disappeared into the hole. The rest of the soldiers eyed Argoth and the others warily.

“What about the sleth woman?” a captain of the Shoka asked, clearly worried Purity might rise to attack them.

Shim looked down at Purity. “Is she sleth? Or is she a victim of yet another Fir-Noy plot against the Koramites? Was her guilt ever proven? If she truly is a wicked killer, then I will slit her throat myself. But first I want answers.”

“We should at least bind her and those children,” another man said.

“Feel free,” Shim said and waved the men on.

The men hesitated.

Argoth said, “I vouch for every one of them. But if you will throw me your ropes, I will bind them.”

That seemed to satisfy the men, and they threw Argoth a number of lengths of cord to bind the wrists and ankles of the others. When he finished, Argoth sat on a rock. And they waited, the men of Shim’s army ready to fill them with arrows.

The search party returned as the sun was setting and confirmed what Argoth had told them. They brought with them the body of Hogan and part of the monster’s leg.

“There were eight others like this,” said the Bailiff.

Eight? But there had been nine. Hogan, Argoth thought, my dear friend—where have you gone?

“Captain Argoth said there were nine.”

“We only found eight, Zu.”

Argoth turned to River, “Did I miscount? Were there eight or nine?”

River didn’t miss a beat. “Eight, I think,” she said.

Argoth turned to Shim. “There were eight. But we cannot leave them there. They need to be collected and destroyed. Their dark lord must not return and find them.”

The Bailiff said, “We found a passage beyond the chamber where the battle took place. It is deep and broad and leads into the belly of the mountain.”

Shim nodded. “For years we’ve lived with the caves of this land, ignoring them, ignoring those who disappear. Perhaps it is time we find out what lives in their depths.”

Shim cross over the space between his men and the battered party and stood before Argoth. “You’ve done well, Captain,” he said. “Very well. And you’ll have your celebration feast, but not just yet.”

Argoth looked into the eyes of his old friend and found . . . honesty.

What a fool he’d been to doubt him.

“What’s wrong?” asked Shim.

“Nothing,” said Argoth.

“You don’t trust me yet?” asked Shim. “Lords, I should take offense.”

“I—”

“I nothing,” said Shim. He pitched his voice low. “Of course, maybe I should take that as a good sign. If I convinced you, then I convinced all the merry fellows I brought with me.”

“Do they trust this?” asked Argoth.

“I trust it,” said Shim. “And they trust me.”

“You’re taking a great risk,” said Argoth in a low voice.