The Conqueror's Shadow (28 page)

The demon-forged blade could have finished the job before nightfall, but Corvis needed to take occasional breaks for rest. His arms burned, his back ached, and his fingers cramped. He might have asked
Sah-di to take over, but he wasn't about to hand Sunder over to just anyone—especially considering that, in the Terrirpa's hands, it probably wouldn't even be an axe anymore.

By day's end, Corvis—already past the halfway point—decided to spend the night in the cave and complete the job in the morning. Paranoid about what his supposed employee might attempt now that he knew where the treasure was, Corvis kept his hands wrapped around Sunder's haft and slept very, very lightly.

The night passed without incident, though, and Corvis doggedly resumed his thankless efforts after a cold breakfast. Sah-di's own excitement waned under the monotony of watching his companion work, and he was beginning to grow concerned regarding the amount of torchwood remaining.

It was nearing midday, and the Terrirpa was just preparing to voice his concerns when Corvis uttered a cry of triumph. All objections fled from Sah-di's mind instantly. He was forced to squeeze a bit to get into the icy passage—it was narrow and squat—but he drew near enough to peer over his companion's shoulder.

There, protruding from the ice, was a dull red crystal, vaguely tear-shaped. It appeared to be attached to a bracelet or armband of some sort, though as most of the bauble remained in the wall, it was impossible to be sure. Sah-di thought he could just barely make out the form of something else in the ice, hidden even deeper than the ornament Corvis had unearthed—something vaguely rectangular.

But if there
was
something else, Corvis didn't seem interested in it. “This is it, Sah-di!” he crowed triumphantly. “This is what we came for.”

The Terrirpa's features twisted skeptically. It looked valuable, yes, but not nearly so much so as he expected from Corvis's descriptions. “A treasure fit for kings, good Master,” he said, trying to muster a modicum of enthusiasm.

He failed. “You sound less than impressed, my friend,” Corvis told him.

“I must admit that I anticipated something a bit more substantial, good Master.”

“Why don't you do the honors, then, Sah-di?” Corvis suggested,
squeezing past the startled Terrirpa. “It's not lodged in there very tightly anymore, and my arms hurt from all that hacking.”

Sah-di shrugged once and passed Corvis a torch. He knelt beside his own pouch and removed a hammer, a chisel, and a small pry-bar. Then he stood, staring intently at the crimson gem sitting just below eye level. “Hello, my lovely,” he said softly. “You have indeed made so arduous a journey worthwhile.” Affectionately, he placed two fingers against the facets.

Corvis watched, expressionless, as Sah-di's mouth gaped in a silent scream. The guide's ears burst in a shower of blood, his eyes bubbled, and the flesh of his cheeks tore apart as his jaw separated from itself. A faint ripping noise sounded, above and beyond the sound made by shredded flesh, and a red glow leaked from his eyes, his nose, his tattered mouth. With a quiet pop, the man's skull crumbled, and his body fell to the icy floor. The red glow subsided from his features, only to take up residence elsewhere. Corvis glanced once at the crystal in the wall, now surrounded by a faint aura. He felt no real pity for the man before him, but more than a small amount of apprehension regarding the next step.

“Hello, Khanda,” he said softly, his voice all but lost in its own echoes.

/Well, well, well. Good to see you, Corvis. It's been a long time./

“Not long enough.”

/And you even brought me breakfast in bed. Uncommonly decent of you. And here I thought you didn't care anymore. I mean, you never wrote. Would a letter now and then have killed you?/

“Khanda, something's happened …”

/Well
, obviously
something's happened. I figured when you entombed me in the middle of a glacier that you weren't planning on retrieving me anytime soon./

“I wasn't
planning
on retrieving you at all!” Corvis snapped, his patience worn. “I'd hoped you might spend the rest of eternity sealed up in here!”

/No, you didn't./

“What?”

Khanda chuckled softly.
/If you'd wanted me gone permanently, Corvis, there were ways to do it. You could have released me, for one./

“Like hell!”

/Funny. I see you've developed a vestigial sense of humor while I've been away. But look at your choice of “prisons,” Corvis. You could have sent me to the ocean floor, or the heart of a volcano. You didn't. You chose an ice-ridden cave in the ass-end of the world because you were
pretending
I was gone for good. But part of you knew. Part of you knew from the beginning that you'd be back for me. That's why you chose someplace remote, but not so remote you couldn't reach it. You knew./

Corvis's mouth worked in silence. He'd had doubts since he dug his old dusty armor from the closet at home, and a great many more when he'd finally admitted that he needed the terrible sort of aid only Khanda could provide. But he had never, until that very moment, doubted himself.

/So,/
Khanda continued,
/you need me for something. You entomb me in ice for seventeen years—although I must admit that it was a nice twist, using my own power to banish me here. Very poetic. You entomb me in ice for nearly two decades, and now that things have gotten too big for you to handle, you come crawling back? Is that pretty much accurate?/

“Do you see me crawling, Khanda?”

/Not yet. Would you be here because of Audriss, by any chance?/

Corvis's breath froze halfway up his throat. “How do you know about Audriss?”

/Really now, Corvis. You think imprisoning me in this wasteland means I can't keep an eye on things? I've been trapped inside this stupid crystal for close to a millennia and a half; I've learned a
few
things about circumventing my limitations./

“All right, fine,” Corvis said, straightening. “I've wasted enough time here. If you can see what's happening in the world outside, it means I can save myself the bother of explaining it all to you. Let's get moving. Even with your help, it's a long way back.”

/My, but we're presumptuous today. What makes you think I'll help you at all, after what you did to me?/

Corvis's jaw clenched. “We've danced to this tune already, Khanda. You lost.”

/That was a long time ago, old man. Some things change./

“Fine, if you insist, let's get this over with.” Two long strides brought Corvis to a stop before the protruding crystal. He gazed deep into its facets, watching the hypnotic glow of the entity pulsing within. Then, snarling, he slapped his palm against the gem.

Time froze in the cave. Above Mount Molleya, winds raged, ice and snow pummeled the mountainside. But deep within, there was no motion of any sort, no sound but the slow, shallow breathing of a man locked in a struggle, not merely for his life, but for his soul.

A ragged gasp shattered the silence, and the mounting tension vanished from the room. Corvis, face flushed and chest heaving, staggered away from the crystal, his right palm curled as though he'd just burned it on a stove.

“So,” he said, spitting the words between deep gulps of air. “Some things
don't
change, do they?”

/No./
Khanda's “voice” inside his head was strangely subdued.
/No, it appears they don't./

“So now that we're past our requisite battle of wills, can we move? It's cold here.”

/Give yourself a decade or so. You'll get used to it./

“Cute, Khanda.” Corvis reached out again, grasped the jewel, and yanked. It slid easily from the ice, a simple ornament on a plain silver armband.

Corvis frowned. “I've taken to using the armor again,” he told the crystal, “at least occasionally. Let's go ahead and keep the image as it was.”

/Very well./
The red light from the crystal pulsed, and the metal writhed obscenely about Corvis's hand, embracing him like a living thing. The band lengthened, narrowed, and reshaped itself into a series of tiny links. A moment, no more, and Corvis now held the pendant dangling from the end of a lengthy silver chain. He scowled distastefully at it and then, before he could think twice, slipped it over his head.

“Did the chain used to be this long?” he asked as he glanced down
at the pendant now hanging against his chest. “I remember it being shorter.”

/Heh. You may be as stubborn as ever, but I see your memory's starting to slip./

“Khanda—”

/The chain was always that long, you lackwit. Your neck was thicker./

“Um, right. We need to get back to Ephrel. I've left Rascal and some of my equipment there. Then we've got to get a move on. I need to rejoin the others by the start of winter.”

/Have you looked outside?/

The warlord sighed. “The start of winter
in Imphallion
, Khanda.”

/Say what you mean, then./There
was a pregnant pause.
/Rascal?/

Corvis nodded as he strode toward the cave entrance, casually stepping over the husk that was once Sah-di. “My horse.”

/You don't need a horse anymore./

“Maybe, but he's been a good horse. Besides, Tyannon and the kids would kill me if I came home without him.”

/You know, this is really disgusting. You sound so domestic. What happened to you?/

“I got rid of you, for one thing.”

/And look where that brilliant decision led you./
Another pause.
/You kept me up here for seventeen years, Corvis. Your lusty little guide was a nice wake-up, but he won't hold me long. Especially if you want me to start bouncing the two of us—not to mention a
horse,
of all things—across the countryside./

“I've thought of that already,” Corvis told him with a frown. He'd been hoping not to take this next step, but then, it wasn't as if the place were filled with the cream of humanity's crop. Sacrificing themselves to help stop Audriss was probably the only worthwhile thing any of them would ever do in their life anyway. “There's a tavern in the village. There should be enough people there to keep you going for a good while.”

Despite his lack of a physical form beyond that of a small pendant, Khanda exuded a sensation that Corvis could only interpret as a raised eyebrow.
/So generous, Corvis? That's unlike you. You used to limit me to one or two at a time./

“This is important.”

/I see. And of course, it's quite all right for the families of
these
people to lose them, just so long as
your
family stays safe./
Khanda chuckled scornfully.
/And you want to believe you've changed? You're the same person you always were, Corvis./

“I
have
changed,” Corvis insisted as he stepped through the illusionary wall and moved to break down the tent. Even with Khanda's aid, the journey would take some time, and Corvis didn't plan to abandon his only shelter. “I'm doing this for my family. Nothing more.”

/That may work for dear sweet Tyannon. It might work for Lilander and Mellorin, it might work for Davro and Seilloah, it might even work for Corvis Rebaine. But you can't lie to
me
, Corvis. Remember what I am./

“Oh, I remember what you are, Khanda. That's why I left you in a glacier for seventeen years.”

/And
I
remember what
you
are, even if you don't. You're vicious, you're violent, and you're absolutely convinced of your own superiority. You've got no idea how gratifying it is to find that you're still the Terror of the East we all know and love. And if you wish, I'll be more than happy to prove it to you./

“What I
wish,”
Corvis snapped between clenched teeth, “is for you to get us to the village before I freeze my ass off!”

He found himself angrier at Khanda than he'd ever been, so enraged it was all he could do not to shove the damn gemstone back into the ice. The blood beat in his temples, behind his eyes, a scream coiled at the base of his throat, demanding to be released.

But it wasn't the demon's words that galled him, that stoked the fires of his soul. It was, instead, his own fear that, just perhaps, Khanda was absolutely right.

GETTING OFF THE MOUNTAIN
, Corvis knew, was not as easy as it sounded. Khanda's abilities at teleportation were closely linked to the memories of his master, and Corvis wasn't terribly familiar with the village through which he'd passed. Furthermore, Khanda was weak
from his years of deprivation. The journey to the tavern, therefore, was a series of brief jumps—never farther than line of sight—between long stretches during which Corvis walked while Khanda rested. It was an unpleasant three days, but far preferable to the nine it took to get
up
the mountain.