A Dead God's Tear (The Netherwalker Trilogy) (45 page)

He glanced warily up at the elf. Every fiber of his being, every ounce of logic imparted on him by his father and Antaigne, all screamed to not trust this thi
ng. And it was a thing, he was sure of that. Even the movements of Velynere came out wrong, off-center, twisted subtly by whatever pact he made to reattain his familiar. The actions were that of a predator, a certain economy of movement reserved for a creature that depended on being just a little faster, smarter, or stronger than whatever it was they were trying to kill.

He shouldn't do it. He knew that. There was more to this than the elf was saying. It was obvious. But what about his father? What about An
taigne? Where was the justice that Jared so often spoke of? Velynere was offering something that Marcius knew was a double edged sword, but perhaps the risk was worth the reward?

He pocketed the amulet slowly. “
I'll have to think about it.” Marcius tried to ignore the hunger that erupted in the elf's eyes.

Chapter 26

V
elynere managed to hold onto his smile and amiability until after Marcius left, but his true nature came forth the moment the grateful apprentice had shut the door behind him. The elf growled, slapping aside a bowl of venison. It bounced off the wall and shattered, spraying the entire area with shards of pottery and globs of meat. The nerve of that human! That child! Telling
him
that he'd “think about it”!

He flexed
his hand, relishing in the strength he felt, the unnatural result of his experiments. Still, he was sure that he laid the appropriate groundwork to entice the human. He could see the yearning, the anger, the need to get retribution in the apprentice's face. Yes, he was sure the human would decide favorably.

Velynere
stood and went to a worn bookshelf. Reaching a hand along the back of the case, he traced the edges until his fingers sunk into a slight indention. He pushed and there was an audible click, the shelf sliding along the floor to reveal a passage behind. He didn't bother to take a candle with him as he navigated the darkened hallway; the elf no longer had need for such things for he could see as easily in the dark as one could on a well-lit day.

Dow
n the winding passage he continued, until he came upon a stout door wrought with chains and iron. His eyes dipped into the nether as he pushed his hand against the seemingly solid door, the metal twisting and bending as the illusion shriveled and curled up like leaves in a fire to reveal an open doorway. The rest of his body followed and the magical sigils, traps designed to explode violently, gave way for their maker, allowing Velynere to walk calmly into a dim room.

“
Back again? Don't you ever have enough?!” a voice said harshly from the corner. A figure was chained to the wall, the metal clinking as the person struggled to stare directly at Velynere.

“
Now, Ganiele, I'd like to think after all we shared that you'd at least be pleasant to me.”

“
Go rot at Dryken's feet, you monster!” the elven mage spat feebly, his strength giving away mid-sentence.

In a flash, Velynere closed the distance between them, his hand latching onto the mage
’s chin. “Like I said, you should be pleasant.” He gave one last shake for emphasis before releasing the elf.

Velynere turned a critical eye at his captive. Ganiele's hair hung around his face, the former luxurious mane now nothing more than a stringy substitute. His skin had pallor, like death warmed over. He didn't give the elve
n mage much more time alive; it was amazing he still managed such resistance in this condition.

“
Now, my elven friend, the question is: are you hiding anything else in that head of yours? I met the human you mind-melded with, and I know you must have more in there for me, yes?”

There! He saw it! The slight widening of the eyes, affirming his suspicions. He quickly grabbed the elven mage's head between his hands.  “
Let's just see what you're hiding, yes?”

He mind-melded, forcibly entering Ganiele's thoughts
and memories. Nothing was sacred as he rummaged around; relishing in the mental pain he was causing the elf. Eventually he found it, there in a secluded recess of the elf's mind. How had he missed it before? A way for him to get the human to do what he wanted! No wonder Ganiele had hidden the information the first couple times Velynere had probed his mind.

Ganiele slumped when Velynere released him, the thin body heaving in exertion and pain. Surprisingly, the elven mage managed, with some difficulty, to lo
ok back up at him.  “You'll never get away with this, abomination! They will question where I've gone. There will be inquiries!”

Velynere laughed in his face. “
Come on, we both know that is nothing more than a bluff. Why else do you think you were sent here to request my presence at the trial? You were betrayed by the Elders, foolish mage. You were nothing more than a sacrifice, an incentive, to buy my cooperation. Your own people sold you, like a common trinket. How does that make you feel?”

The mage's sil
ence spoke volumes and the ever-present hunger reared its head. Velynere gave in, grabbing the elf forcibly by the neck and lifting him by one hand with unnatural strength, pulling until the entire elf, chains and all, was stretched tight from the wall. A single finger, flaring red, touched Ganiele lightly on the forehead, and the elven mage's eyes widened with fear, “Please, no,” he begged, “No more. . . ”

“
I am sorry,” Velynere whispered. And, somewhere deep inside he truly was. But he had to feed off the pure, untainted souls of other mages to quell the intense hunger of his curse. Ganiele had provided him with much sustenance these last few days, but this would probably kill him.

The hunger didn't care.

A tendril of green, thin and flowing like smoke, snaked out of the elf's forehead, and attached to Velynere's finger. It wiggled and thrashed, but the nether wraith continued to pull, half forcing, half coaxing the tendril out. Ganiele began to shudder, his eyes rolling back in his head and a low moan escaped his mouth.

There was one final gasp as the tendril snapped out. Ganiele slumped against his chains as Velynere let him go.

The nether wraith wasn't even paying the mage any longer, instead he was focused on the thrashing soul sliver perched on his fingertip. He brought it close, and his eyes began to glow as he gazed upon it hungrily.

His mouth opened unnaturally wide and the tendril whipped back. It swirled into his mouth and he arched in pleasure as the sustenance began to surge through him.  The rush
was all consuming, as it always was, and it took him a few moments of delirium before he was able to come down from the euphoric high; enough to see if the elven mage was even alive.

He wasn't.

Velynere didn't mind. It was good while it lasted, and the hunger was satiated, for now. Besides, he had what he needed. He knew what he had to do to force the apprentice human mage into action.

Selene didn’t say much when Marcius arrived at the gate, and he fell into step with her naturally as they began the long trip back to Selenthia. His mind was swirling with possibilities. Did he really want to go this route? Was it worth it?

The elf, for her part, kept silent, perhaps sensing that Marcius wasn
’t in the mood to talk. They made surprising time back, and Marcius spent the next couple days alternating between just laying on his bed, lost in memories, and staring at the necklace Velynere had given him.

By the time a
ten-day had passed, he had acquired an acute sense of cabin fever. The eyes of Antaigne and his father haunted his dreams and hung in his mind while he was awake. He had to do something, anything, yet summoning the motivation to do so was another thing entirely.

He was lying on his bed, staring at the crystal, replaying various scenarios in his head when
a knock on his door roused him from his stupor. “Marcius?” Selene asked, walking into the room to stand at the foot of his bed. She was dressed for travel. “Get your trail clothing on and be outside within the hour.”

She then turned and left before Marciu
s could say anything in response. Lethargically, he moved to comply, and eventually he was stepping out into the sun, something he hadn’t seen in a while.

“
Where are we going?” he asked as he approached, squinting a bit at the bright intrusion of light.

“
You’ll see,” she said with a playful lilt in her voice. At once, his curiosity was piqued. This was a side of her he hadn’t seen before.

They set off, following the main trails through the city before detouring off the beaten mossy path. Selene didn
’t say much, but there was a certain expedience in her walk that only deepened Marcius’s interest. For the first time in over ten days, the melancholy haze surrounding him lifted.

The part of Selenthia they traveled was a veritable explosion of nature. Vibrant gre
ens and flowers in full bloom surrounded them, and the area hummed with life. Marcius was entranced; the beauty of it all was overwhelming, surpassing even the quiet majesty of the Selenthian city.

Eventually the sound of running water could be heard, a di
stant roar that grew louder as they walked. The forest suddenly opened up and Marcius found that he was high on a cliff overlooking a magnificent view of a water fall. Crystal clear water rained down, crashing onto the rocks below.

“
Do you like it?” Selene asked, her eyes sparkling.

“
It’s. . . unbelievable!” Marcius exclaimed. He could see the endless sea of green, the forest canopy, as it stretched clear to the horizon.

They spent a few moments in quiet silence, just enjoying the view, and then Selene disa
ppeared behind a boulder. After a few moments, a curious Marcius followed. He was surprised to find a natural trail down the cliff face as he chased after her.

She stopped at the bottom, opening up her pack and pulling out what looked to be a series of sti
cks. As Marcius neared, and she started connecting the sticks, he was able to see what they were: fishing rods.

“
Here you go.” And she handed one of them to him.

He held it like one would a snake. “
What do you want me to do with this?”

“
Is it not obvious? Fish.” She handed him a roll of twine and a small box, which when opened, revealed a small metal hook.

He fumbled around awkwardly as he tried to tie the hook on the line. Marcius might have been born and raised in a coastal city, but his social status sto
pped him from ever trying such a thing. This was a new experience.

Selene seemed amused by it all, letting him stumble for a few moments before intervening. It took her mere seconds to affix it with practiced hands. Marcius acknowledged the feat with a gru
nt and a grumble, which only made the elf smile more, much to his chagrin.

Digging along the moist ground of the river bank revealed worms which they used for bait. Soon they were fishing to the relaxing sound of running water. The sun was out and Marcius
felt good to be outside. The rock they sat on was warm, but not uncomfortably so. He looked over at the elf. She seemed to be enjoying herself, smiling in a relaxed carefree manner.

Marcius thought over the last couple days as he cast his line out. He miss
ed Faerill and his friends so much, and his mind was in turmoil over Velynere's offer, but here, at this moment, such things didn't matter.  This, he realized, was probably why Selene brought him out here.

“
You didn’t have to do this,” he said, glancing over at her from the corner of his eyes, “But thank you, really.”

Whatever response she had was drowned out by the sudden pull of a fish biting.

“
What do you mean she’s not here right now?” Marcius asked.

“
She was called away by the Elders this morning. For what, I know not,” Lorisen said.

Marcius sulked. The two of them had gotten along pretty well since that impromptu fishing trip. She never said much, but it was if a silent understanding had been reached. It became less of a guardian watching over her cha
rge and more of something forged from mutual respect. If the clothing had been a peace offering that crumbled the walls, then the trip was the part where they came crashing down.

It surprised him how much he had come to depend on her over the last couple o
f days. Her absence was an ache that came from the very recesses of his chest. There was something intangible and alluring about her. She was a mystery, an unknown in his tumultuous life. She was strong, fierce, untamed, and yet the last few days had shown a side that intrigued the apprentice. He wanted to know more.

“
I’m sorry, it just came as a surprise. So I guess I’m stuck here, then?”

“
Nonsense, I am allowed to be your guardian in her steed,” Lorisen said, a twinkle of laughter in his eye. “Do you wish to spar again, human?”

Marcius chuckled. “
No thanks, Lorisen. These hands are for casting spells only.”