A Dead God's Tear (The Netherwalker Trilogy) (46 page)

Lorisen clapped him on the shoulder. “
Well, you know where to find me if you wish to go out beyond the grounds. I take my leave now.”

Marcius nodded an
d then went back to his room. But he was restless without Selene. He wondered what she was doing. Marcius wasn’t a fool, and he fully realized that she had other duties besides spending time with him, but such knowledge didn’t mean he had to like it.

He sk
immed over the scrolls she had brought over, the texts mostly about elven history and tradition. Marcius had enjoyed them immensely, but he just couldn’t bring himself to settle down to read this time.

Like a magnet, his gaze was drawn to the amulet on the
drawer next to his bed. The past couple of days had diverted his attention from Velynere’s offer, but now it was back, screaming for his attention.

He tried to ignore it, pulling out the scrolls for study once again, but he only managed a few lines before
he threw them to the ground with growl. Marcius immediately felt guilty and quickly picked them back up, but that didn’t stop him from glancing over to the drawer he left the amulet on.

Why did it seem as if the amulet was calling to him?

As if in answer, a bright light suddenly shot from the jewelry, bathing the dimly lit room in an unnatural glow. What was going on? Against all logic and common sense, Marcius cautiously crept over, the amulet singing its song with every step. With trembling hands he lifted up the amulet and it was a miracle that he didn't drop it. Holding it up to eye level, he gazed in wonder as the hair-like object within the amulet's murky depths began to spin rapidly.

Without warning, a brilliant flash of light stole Marcius's vision.

❧
　❧　❧

It took a few moments before Marcius's sight cleared, and he was treated to the light show of colors and shapes that became the foundations of a small room. It was well-lit and uncomfortably formal in design and scope. He disliked it immediately. A few moments passed before he realized that he was not alone.

Selene stood a few feet away, her back to him as she faced a group of five fellow elves which held themselves in such a manner that there could be no mistaking their authority. Neither the elve
n warrior, nor the group of elves seated at their table, gave any notice of Marcius.

He held out his hand as if to grab Selene's shoulder, and it was then that he realized that he could see through his hand, like looking at stones at the bottom of a river
bed. Tentatively he reached out and his fingers passed through the elven warrior's arms like a ghost.

What was going on?

“Honored Elders, I must protest,” Selene said clearly in Elvish, yet Marcius heard it in his head as Common. Was the amulet translating? “I cannot wean mother this human any more. It is a waste of my time, which is better used preparing for war.”

He was a waste of her time?

The Elder in the center, an aged elf, leaned forward against the table. “Battle-Mistress Selene, do you presume to know more than we do about where your services would be best rendered?”

“
I do.” The proclamation took the Elders by obvious surprise. “I mean no disrespect, honored Elders. Merely that I have seen what Morlia can do, and I believe my time would be better spent preparing Selenthia.”

“
Well,” and the Elder's smile was unpleasant, “I must ask you, Battle-Mistress, if we tell you which way to point a sword? Were we not chosen by Agiliarna to lead Selenthia? Tell me, fateless one, why you presume to tell us what is best?”

Selene's lips became a tight line, but she maintained her composure. “
I did not presume, honored Elders. It is merely my suggestion, for the best of Selenth—”

“
Enough!” and he hit the table with his fist, “We did not bring you here to tell us the supposed folly of our plans! You are of the warrior caste, and it is time you know your place. Now, Battle-Mistress, if Selenthia is indeed your priority. . . report on the human.”

Marcius moved around to the back of the Elders, and as such, he was able to
see the defeat on the proud elf's face. He could see the anger as well. Still, she addressed the Elders in a calm voice. “He, thankfully, has remained ignorant of what he really is. Hopefully it will remain so until the Academy gets him. Other than that, I have distracted him as much as possible, since he seems to enjoy my company. Though I must admit that I don't agree with allowing him to meet that
thing
in the
Acaelyn Hollow
.”

The middle Elder smiled, “
Well, isn't it a good thing we have castes to alleviate such thoughts? Keep up the good work.” His smile became condescending. “What is your personal opinion on our decision to turn him over to the Academy?”

Selene looked him the eye, not taking his bait. “
It was risky. I would have killed him the moment we found out what he was.”

The room erupted in another flash of light.

❧
　❧　❧

Marcius lurched forward, using the dresser as a lifeline. His vision swam and his mind clouded. It was several agonizing moments before he could even formulate a coherent thought. Breathing heavily, he lowered himself down to the ground, half sliding, half using the wall for support.

He stared at the amulet in his hand. What was that?  His stomach sank as he mulled over the elf's words. The past few days were nothing more than li
e, it seemed. Tears formed in his eyes as he considered the ease in which she proclaimed killing him.

He should have known better. There was no way someone like that was interested in him. She was as tough as she was beautiful, mysterious, and above all, a
loof. Women like that were attracted to men of power, and she regarded him as a child that had to be weaned from the mother!

Marcius let the amulet rotate slowly at the end of its necklace. Power? Velynere's offer swam in front of him, and with determinati
on, he accepted it. He flipped the amulet over and read the incantation out loud on the back. The jewelry flared alive again, glowing a gentle white this time.

It was comforting in a way and he clutched it hard to his chest as he went to the window.

He opened it up, forcing back the shutters that magically shut during the night. A part of him still couldn't believe how common magic was in the Elven city. Would the Academy be the same way too?

Outside the Myst waited, beckoning. He paused a moment, his foot
on the sill, and he couldn't help but look back. Marcius had the feeling once he stepped out, he was committing to something serious. Then he saw Selene's hard eyes as she admitted to keeping him ignorant, to stringing him along, and his resolve toughed.

D
ryken damn it all. Whatever he was, he was tired of being used. When he returned, he'd be the one deciding things. Marcius knew Velynere was lying to him about some things, but sometimes you just had to take chances and this was, at least, his choice. He'd like to see Selene lie to him now.

Though it was night, a full moon, barely visible above, refracted its light off the Myst, lighting everything aglow with a supernatural haze. He shivered, but shook the feeling away as he vault out into the Myst, which w
elcomed him with open arms. In mere seconds he had vanished, swallowed up by the murky depths.

It was cold. A kind of wet chill that goes through your body, through whatever layers of clothing you might wear, and settles numbingly in your extremities, the
tips of your fingers and toes. It drained him of the bravado he had felt and he turned back.

But the estate had vanished. There was no open window, no massive building, nothing but an endless ocean of fog. Panic set in and he scrambled around a few moments
, looking for anything that might be familiar. Again, nothing but the fog remained, taunting him. The only small measure of solace lay in the fact that it wasn’t dark; the immediate area was bathed in the moon’s subtle pale glow.

He didn't want to move. It
was far easier to sit there and just wait, and it was very tempting to do just that, but he knew that he couldn't. Jared wouldn't do it, and it wasn't as if he had a choice anyway, right? He had nowhere to go but forward. But how exactly was he to navigate in this haze?

The amulet! He had completely forgotten about it! It was still clutched tightly in his right hand, glowing brightly like a star. And like before, it was beginning to sing, to call out to him.

Follow. . .

Marcius felt it, a gut reaction in
the pit of his stomach. He
knew
where to go, but he didn't know how he knew. This was powerful magic at work, he realized. It had to be the amulet! Such trinkets weren't commonplace. Could he trust it? He only had to think back to Velynere's hungry eyes to reinforce the obvious conclusion that he could never fully trust the. . . thing.

Still, he cautiously began following the song, his feet leading him where his mind could not. Every step just felt
right
and he began to slip into a daze. Time ceased to matter, blurring together in one long stream of consciousness. He wasn't sure exactly how far he walked in his half-haze, but he began to get a tingle down his back, an ice-cold trickle of fear that perhaps he wasn't alone.

He began to shiver. It was an unnatural act, something forced on him. And then he saw it, a shadow moving just outside of the depths of his perception. No, not just moving he realized, but stalking, searching
. . . for him. It was only the faintest of outlines, inhuman of shape within the white canvas of Myst, but Marcius froze, his entire body clenching.

He felt defenseless without his magic. As weak as it was, it was still better than being out here alone, cold, an
d with only a piece of jewelry to defend you.

Marcius recalled Selene speaking of such things within the Myst when she first captured him, but to see it firsthand brought the peril to a startling new reality. He tried to hide the amulet's glow inside the c
onfines of his shirt, but as if to defy him, it only grew brighter. The beast paid it no heed, shuffling through the Myst, ever closer, stopping occasionally as if listening. Marcius could hear its breathing, gruff intakes of air through unseen nostrils.

H
e forced his rapidly racing mind to slow down and think logically. Velynere did say the amulet was supposed to shield him from the things that came from the Myst. Slowly, fully expecting to be attacked at any moment, he uncurled his fingers from the amulet, letting the glow come to fore.

The beast stopped, as if hitting a wall, and several tense moments passed. The shadow eventually melted back into the fog as if it never existed to begin with. Still, it didn't stop the shiver of relief that wiggled down hi
s spine. H e let out a ragged sigh. That had been close, too close. Just what had he gotten himself into? How many things were out there, on the edges of his vision, waiting for him?

This was a mistake.

The Myst didn't offer an answer or condolences, so he continued trudging through the fog, following the song of the amulet. He had to trust something that saved his life, but he still kept his eyes and ears straining, trying to hear imaginary footsteps in the white. At this point he didn't care where it led him, as long as it was out of this fog.

Shadows faded in and out, vague figures of monsters, some humanoid in appearance, others decreasingly not. Each time they encountered the invisible wall and stalled before eventually disappearing back into the curtai
n of fog. Marcius began to breathe a little easier.

A sound, like rock grinding on rock, wailed in the distance. Marcius couldn't tell where it was coming from and he held the amulet in front of him, as if to ward off whatever it was.

It was coming closer!

The sound became a bellowing roar and a shadow rose from the Myst in front of him, releasing a shower of earth and debris as it erupted from the ground. A beast unlike anything he had seen before reared up, roaring, clawing its way forward. A mixture of s
cales, coarse fur, and sharpened claws glistened in the amulet light. Events happening too rapidly for the stunned apprentice to piece it all together.

Marcius let out a yell of surprise, stumbling over his own feet to crash hard to the ground. He scramble
d backwards. Would people ever know what happened to him? Wasn't the amulet supposed to protect him?

His feet slipped again on the cold clammy ground and he closed his eyes, waiting on the inevitable. There was a moist sound, like a knife plunging into a f
ruit, and he was bathed in a sticky hot liquid. The smell! It was atrocious, filling his nostrils with a sickly acrid scent of burnt vomit. He tentatively opened his eyes, using his forearm to wipe the dripping liquid from his face.

The head was skull-like
, ivory in color, with protrusions that came down from the mouth like exterior teeth. The monster was staring at him, the unnatural glowing emerald eyes dimming, and it looked as confused as he was.