Sourcethief (Book 3) (23 page)

"Is there no specific grievance you have?"
Kyrus asked. "It sounds like you are dancing around your real
reason." Kyrus studied the demon's face, his manner. It was all too alien
to pick up any human mannerisms that would betray deception.

"Bvatrain," Xizix said.

"What does that mean?"

"Bvatrain is the immortal that Rashan killed. I
could not properly call Bvatrain a friend, but he was no enemy of mine, and I
had known him thousands of summers. When you have lived as long as I have, such
ties to the ancient world are invaluable. The others felt the same way. I never
lived among the immortals; I chose my children over their company, but I was
welcomed among them. So was Rashan, once."

"Did Rashan live long among them?" Kyrus
asked.
Here is someone who knows where those missing years were spent!

"By your measure, I suppose. He crawled to them
from his battle with Loramar, feverish with tainted aether he knew not how to
rid himself of. How he found them, I know not, though I suspect he may have
already known of their enclave."

"Why was Rashan banished from them?" Kyrus
asked. He felt as if he were conducting an interrogation, but Xizix had yet to
take offense.

"Many of the immortals come and go, spending
long periods away from the company of others. What hobbies and fancies call
them away... it is their own business if they choose to keep it to themselves.
Bvatrain was well known for his restless spirit, often visiting Azzat when he
went abroad. On one such visit, he told me that he was on his way back to the
others, intending that he would stay for some time. He confided that he was
worried about his quarrels with Rashan. Immortals often carry grudges over
hundreds of winters, but you see, they
carry
those grudges. Settling
them is ... distasteful. It smacks of mortality. Bvatrain warned me that he
would leave word should he ever again wander far away."

"Let me guess, he wandered away without leaving
word?" Kyrus asked. A rueful smile curled his lips.
Such a trap for
Rashan to fall in. Someone saw his lie ahead of time.

"Clearly you know Rashan's nature, or you would
not have come this far to seek counsel in opposing him. Yes, Bvatrain
disappeared. None could ever prove what had become of him, but I swore to
Bvatrain's promise to me, that should he go missing, it would mean that Rashan
had settled their dispute in the fashion most pleasing to his wanton
nature," Xizix said.

"And so ... that was why they banished
Rashan?" Kyrus asked. "It seems flimsy evidence. Did he protest his
innocence?" Kyrus found his mouth growing dry. There was no refreshment at
hand. He licked his lips and tried to ignore the distraction.

"Of course. The murderous wretch feared we
would overwhelm him in numbers and destroy him," Xizix explained. "He
cast enough doubt that banishment was his punishment instead. At Illiardra's
insistence, they set a condition for his return. If he could live ten winters
and kill nothing, they would allow him back."

"I was there when he failed. I had no idea at
the time just what that meant. I was having enough trouble accepting the fact
that it was really
the
Rashan Solaran who had returned,"

"Yes, and a wondrous return is has been, has it
not?" Xizix threw back his head for a single, scoffing laugh.

"And now you want me to kill him," Kyrus
said. "Assuming I am willing, what aid can you offer?"

"I must decide first if you are worth aiding.
If you fail and Rashan deduces my involvement, it would break a truce we have
had in place to keep him out of Azzat and away from my children."

"Am I not strong enough?" Kyrus asked.
"Am I not skilled enough, is that it? Do you question my will to see it
through?"

"Strength only matters if you know how to use
it. Push your hammer against a rock as hard as you like; you must swing the
hammer to break it. Do you know how to wield a hammer? In battle with him,
would you choose to flee instead? You arrived by transference spell, you might
flee Rashan by the same means." Xizix leaned closer, allowing Kyrus to
make out irises in the red upon red eyes. "What drives you to his
destruction?"

"He led my best friend to his death. He has
murdered my father, my uncle. He ... he kills everything he touches. He
concocts excuses, but they are just paint over rotted wood. Sooner or later, I
will find some way into his ill graces, and it will be me on the end of his
sword if I do not find some way to be rid of him first," Kyrus said. He
stared back into those demonic eyes, the sort that storybooks mean when they
call some creature "demon." He did not see a monster, but rather
human feeling in those eyes, less cold than Rashan's were. There was a
desperate worry there. For all the hideous skin and fangs and claws, the eyes
were human aside from their ominous coloration. "If you cannot help me,
then tell me where to find the other immortals. Where is this enclave you
mentioned? Illiardra has seen fit to lend indirect aid—I will confront her more
directly about putting an end to her former love."

"Oh, so you do know her then. What sort of aid
has she given you?" Xizix sat back in his chair, slouching as he awaited
Kyrus's reply. The moment of human contact Kyrus had felt evaporated as the
demon settled back into aloofness.

"She left two books. One was a book of
prophecies that Rashan had written long ago, before his final battle with
Loramar. I have discovered that it was a journal of sorts, disguised as
prophetic ranting. The other was
The Peace of Tallax
," Kyrus said.
He noticed a twinge in Xizix's expression when he spoke the name. "But it
was not given directly and I have not yet seen it. I made a search of Kadris
for another copy, but the one from the Tower of Contemplation is the copy that
is missing. I should have the copy I was meant to possess in a few days."

"Was there anything of use in Rashan's
journal?" Xizix asked. "I might be of some aid in interpreting
it."

"Perhaps. What does this mean:
One vase,
filling fast, spilling faster / To see another, no mirror may reflect it /
Where to find its shadow, an absence not a copy / Seek a way among the spirits
?
That is an entry that I think may be the key to figuring out—"

"How he managed to become immortal," Xizix
finished the thought.

"Yes," Kyrus admitted.

"How much have you puzzled out on your
own?" the demon asked. Kyrus saw the fingers of one clawed hand clenching
and unclenching.

"I ... I am not sure how to begin explaining
this. I suppose I may as well just ask outright, since I can only imagine the
crazed tales you must have heard in your—"

"I know about the other worlds. Get on with
it," Xizix snapped. "It is no great secret among us, Acardian."

"How did you—"

"Word has spread. Let us leave it at that. I
might give you a dozen more reasons, but suffice it that you are also no great
secret, Kyrus Hinterdale. Magics more subtle than mine pry loose secrets
wherever they may lie."

Kyrus shuddered. He swallowed to clear the lump that
was growing in his throat.

"Well ... there was a third book, written by an
underling of a twin Rashan Solaran once had. He was a spy of sorts, but working
for coin rather than a king. He moved information between worlds and made a
fortune at it. Well, this underling wrote of the death of Rashan's twin. He
received a visitor that day that sounded very much like Rashan Solaran. It was
enough to make me think it was a son or grandson, but later I came to consider
that it might have been
the
Rashan Solaran, the one from this
world," Kyrus explained. He felt more at ease talking than thinking just
then. The words spilled from him to the point where he had made himself short
of breath.

"You have already shown that there are means of
traverse between this world and your own. While it may be mildly interesting to
know how Rashan cleaned up his business in Tellurak prior to facing his
possible demise against Loramar, the only useful pinch of knowledge was known
to you," Xizix said, waving a hand about as if brushing aside Kyrus's
insight.

"Well, what then? You must know something of
use. You reacted when I mentioned the book about Tallax. What do you know of
it?" Kyrus asked. The thing seemed to be a walking historical archive.

"Ah, perhaps not as much as you might hope. I
have never read the work, though I am sure I have a copy of it. I make a habit
of reading all that I can, but I make certain exceptions. Tallax and I were ...
contemporaries, let us say." Xizix shrugged and grinned sheepishly, an
almost comical gesture by a creature with such a malevolent appearance.

"You knew him then?" Kyrus asked.

"I would have liked to have thought we were
rivals, but he never considered me one. If he was nothing else, Tallax was the
most powerful mortal thing I have ever seen or hope to see. He kept the world
at peace as a wolf keeps the peace of his pack. He was the strongest, and
struck down any who quarreled with more than words. If Illiardra left that book
for you, I would surmise that she envisions you returning Veydrus to peace in much
the same way."

"Could I? You knew him, was Tallax so much more
powerful than me? I have often wondered if I could confront Rashan directly, my
strength against his," Kyrus said. Unable to contain his thoughts within
his idle body, he sprang to his feet. He paced behind the chair in which he had
sat, turning to the demon once more as he paused to lean across its back.
"If you were to gamble, whose side would you lay coin on?"

"Hah, that right there is a question your
warlock might ask. I rarely gamble, but allow me a brief story about one time
that I did. A mortal acquaintance once challenged me to a game of chess. I told
him that he would never defeat me, I wagered half my kingdom against all that
he owned. He was an opponent of unsurpassed reputation. I allowed him the white
pieces, and he made the first move. I never touched a single piece of mine. The
man died forty-seven winters later, and in all that time the board remained
undisturbed in my library. His assets were passed to me instead of his heirs.
That is how I gamble," Xizix said.

"A clever story, but I posed a hypothetical.
Ignore the gambling premise if you must, but I would like an answer. If you
would see Rashan dead, tell me whether my plan bears merit," Kyrus's eyes
darted about the room, looking for signs of water kept on hand, or wine even.

"There is a weapon, that if it is brought to
bear against you, will ensure Rashan's victory. The question is whether he has
the willpower to wield it," Xizix said. Something in his manner seemed at
odds. The corners of the demon's mouth seemed almost to smile between words,
but when he stopped, the hint of it was gone.

"What weapon?"

"Patience," Xizix said, giving a long
laugh. "The same weapon I used in my game of chess. It was that same
weapon that we used to slay Tallax."

"You ... you just waited. You waited for Tallax
to die of old age?" Kyrus asked. "That hardly counts as slaying. And
what if Rashan were to leave me in peace for all my days? I would consider that
well worth the peace that would come in the meantime."

"It is a matter of perspective. A subtle
poisoner might wait seasons for his fatal ministrations to take effect. Dead is
dead though, and if we immortals preferred our poison to be Tallax's own gaudy,
leaking Source, then so be it. They wrote legends of that Source of his, but in
the end it killed him, same as yours will one day kill you, mortal," Xizix
slumped in his chair, almost as if retreating from Kyrus as he pointed an
accusing finger.

"Then what help are you? You suggest that
Rashan might wait for my own eventual death by extreme age—"

"NO!" Xizix shouted, leaping to his feet.
Kyrus drew in aether by instinct. Xizix must have sensed it—the demon could
hardly have helped but notice—because he shrank back immediately.
"No," Xizix repeated in a more measured voice, still gravelly and
inhuman, but quieter. "I expect that he will not be able to. It is the
same sickness of mind that violated the condition of his return to the
immortals' enclave. It is the same madness you must see each time he talks of
slaughter, the glee in his eyes at the very thought of murder."

"What then? What advice do you have?"
Kyrus asked.

"You must not allow him to kill you. If he has
the patience in him to do it, you must not allow him to wait for you to die. A
strong sorcerer might see a hundred summers, with that Source you boast of you
might see two hundred or more. We immortals see time on a longer chain. Whether
you die tomorrow of two hundred winters hence, if Rashan steps his boot upon
your corpse, he has won. That is my advice: force the battle."

"You think I can win then?"

"I think that you cannot win if you do not
fight him," Xizix replied.

"There is one other matter that sticks in my
mind. When I arrived in this world and Rashan found me, he seemed perplexed at
how I might have gotten from one world to the other. If he was the one who
killed his twin in my world, then how did he make the journey?" Kyrus
asked. It was a question that was jumping about in his mind as it awaited his
turn to speak. He had worried that he might not work it into his conversation
with the demon, so he chose instead to wedge it in artlessly.
Winds forbid,
if Xizix thinks poorly of me socially he might never invite me for tea again
...