A Dead God's Tear (The Netherwalker Trilogy) (53 page)

❧　❧　❧

“What is this?” Velynere asked, holding up the blackened gem.

“
It’s what we found at that tower in the Myst.” Marcius leaned back in his chair. “I brought it and the amulet back.”

“
Obviously,” the elf said, shrugging as he placed it carefully down on the table.

“
Our bargain still stands?”

“
Well, I suppose. The gem itself is useless. It has no power now. Now the amulet is another matter. It was difficult to make. I appreciate you bringing it back.”

“
So, is that a ‘yes’?”

“
Aye, I’ll honor our bargain. You brought back exactly what you found.” Velynere raised an eyebrow, “I hear you go to the Academy now?”

“
Yes, Selene and my friends wait outside the gates. I just wanted to get rid of those two things,” Marcius said. “It wasn’t exactly a pleasant experience.”

“
I heard little of the tale.” The elf smiled, though his eyes were dark, “One day I’ll ask you to tell it to me in full. Do you have anything else on your mind?”

Marcius stared at the elf. There were a flood of questions he wanted to ask. Was the elf responsible for the attack outside the tower? H
ow much did he really know? Why did it feel as if Velynere was hiding something? What was it that happened to him in that arena? How could he use magic without his familiar?

But it was the eyes, those pitless traps within that sunken dead face that dispell
ed any thoughts of asking them. What, really, could the thing in front of him say that would matter in the end? Nothing.

The only place he would find what he sought was now within his grasp. The Academy.

Marcius stood, heading to the door and away from the abomination in front of him. Exposure to Velynere did little to rid the malicious aura the unnatural product of magic exuded. He decided to take the hint his senses were telling him.

“
Marcius,” Velynere intoned, “Wait a moment.”

As Marcius turned around,
a flicker of movement caught his attention and he reflexively caught the tiny object the elf had thrown. It was the gem. He looked at Velynere.

“
Take it,” the elf explained. “At the very least as a souvenir of your time in Selenthia. As a reminder of things lost and gained. Who knows, might be a good fortune charm.”

Marcius considered it, and then nodded, tucking the gem in his pouch. He would do just that. It would be a shame to walk away from everything empty handed.

❧
　❧　❧

“Does he have the catalyst?”

“
Aye, now we just have to wait for him to develop.”

“
I've been waiting for a long time.”

“
The tear needs time to work. You can wait a little longer.”

The sunlight dappled through the leaves above, the tiny trails of pollen swirling about the early morning
air. At the edge of the forest, a group of people were gathered.

One had sloppy brown hair and carried himself with the hopeful clumsiness of a person trying to act beyond his age. Next to him, a blonde man slowly continued at a leisurely gait, confidence
accompanying every action.

Behind them, two women conversed with the wary touch and feel of predators testing boundaries. The pale one was an elf, the tips of her pointed ears barely revealing themselves through the strands of her wispy blond hair, while t
he other was the opposite, human and as fiery as her vibrant copper locks.

Bringing up the rear, seemingly amused at the whole thing, was an older man, bald of head and long of beard, who acted like he had all the time in the world. This, most likely, was
true in the immediate sense.

“
This is the edge of our lands,” Selene said as they finally broke through the treeline to the plains beyond.  “This is where I leave you. Are you sure you'll be alright beyond? I have heard tales of bandits and such among human settlements and roads.”

The three of them looked at each other, sharing a silent understanding. “
Well,” Alicia said, choosing her words, “There's always the threat of bandits, but we have two wizards. There is little to fear, but thank you for your concern.”

The elf nodded, not catching the exchange. “
Then I'll take my leave. May Avalene protect and watch over you all.”

Her gaze flickered over to Marcius, and she opened her mouth, but decided against it at the last moment. The elf gave a curt nod, turning
back and beginning to fade into the forest.

“
Marc, what are you doing?” Jared hissed. “Go after her and say something.”

Marcius didn't need to be told twice, running after the elf without looking back. He had lost track of her momentarily in the thick fol
iage. “Wait!” he cried out and it was with no small measure of relief that after a few feet he nearly stumbled into her, apparently waiting for him.

“
Thank you for waiting,” he said awkwardly, trying to order his thoughts. “I just wanted to talk to you before I left.”

Her eyes flicked from him to where his friends were, beyond the curtain of trees and bush. “
You waited until the absolute last moment,” she said with just a hint of reproach.

Marcius noticed the way her hair hung down about her face, a curtain
of moonlit blonde. His hand made its way to her face on its own accord, tucking a distracting strand back over her ear. The elf looked at him in surprise and like a burnt child, he pulled back his hand.

“
I just wanted to say that I'm going to miss you,” he stammered, feeling silly. But he continued anyway, like the inevitability of a sinking ship. “I have a lot to thank you for. You fought for me, sacrificed for me, protected me from myself. And I'll never know if I'll see you again when I leave here. . . but I'd be honored if I could leave knowing we were friends.”

There it was, the cards were out on the table. She stared at him, her head tilted, and Marcius held his breath, uncomfortably aware of how close they were to each other.

“Friends?” she asked absently, and for the first time Marcius realized that he was taller than the elven woman, a fact that he overlooked, so forceful was her presence. “I've never had someone who I could call a friend. I've had subordinates, superiors, teachers, and many other things, but never a friend. One, such as I, one with no fate, is not supposed to have such things. In fact, it is said that one without a fate shouldn't be allowed to live.”

Her eyes locked onto his. She stole his breath. “
And yet,” she continued, oblivious to his inner turmoil, “Here I am, clearly alive. Is it wrong to want a friend? Is it wrong to be shunned because Agliarna was silent? What does it mean? All I know is that I see you, with the warmth of those you call your friends, and I am jealous. And that makes me feel terrible, because I should not begrudge you for having what I do not.”

“
Then let me, and my friends, show you. You'll always have a place with us. . . if that is what you want.”

The elf shrugged, nonchalant, “
They do not even know me. You don't really know me, for the matter.”

“
Friendship isn’t about knowing someone. It's about wanting to know someone and being willing to accept whatever it is that you find, good or bad. It's easier to walk side by side than alone,” he responded, repeating something he had heard his father say once.

She looked away, at her feet. “
All I do know is that I will miss you too. It is strange. Humans were never something I thought much of. But,” and her voice had a slight tremor to it, “I did enjoy our time together. I'd be lying to say that it was only for the requirement of duty that I took you out to go fishing.”

Marcius grinned, relieved. “
Then friends?”

Again their eyes met and he was lost in the sheer depth of her gaze. “
Aye, Marcius Realure. Regardless of the war and what happens, as long as Seleniale Destane Liarne resides within Selenthia, you will always have a friend here.”

He smiled, elated, and his body reacted, moving even as his brain screamed for it to stop. His hand came up, cupping her chin and he b
ent forward, drawing her into a kiss of the likes he had never done before. Electricity ran through their bodies and he couldn't stop himself from deepening it, enjoying the feeling of her soft lips pressed to his.

Selene had stiffened, but she hadn't push
ed him away either. Her lithe body against his, her scent filling his senses, it was all too much. Eventually, and it came too quickly by Marcius's estimation, they had to come up to breathe, their faces mere inches from each other. A myriad of emotions were dancing in her eyes, but he noticed with no small measure of relief that anger didn't seem to be among them.

“
Sorry, but I had to do that before I left,” he whispered, his voice shaky. “I had to know. . . ” How could a woman affect him so? Never had he dealt with someone whose mere presence was a trial to his self control.

He could see the inner conflict behind those windows to her soul, and decided that it was his cue to leave. His heart protested, screaming the entire time, but his rational mind knew i
t would never work. They came from two different worlds, but he just needed to know if there was anything there, if there was even a hope, a spark.

What he had found was a raging fire and he had to get away, lest it consume him. The kiss had been a mistake
. He knew that now. It had opened many doors, and shown him what could have been. Shown him what he could not have.

He turned away, stopping a brief moment to look over his shoulder. Selene stood there, looking lost and confused and so very beautiful. The
wind had picked up, billowing her long hair out, and her face was flushed a delicate pink.

He shot her a single look. “
I'm sorry,” it said.

It took all of Marcius's self-control to turn away.

With a heavy heart he walked back to his friends, back to his life, and toward his future at the Academy.

Epilogue

I
t ran along the battlement, its strong limbs accurately navigating the nooks and crannies, threading through them like a practiced needle. Every footfall was unnaturally silent, little more than hissing in the dark. It paused against a wall, the nose sniffing, widening, and as it picked up the scent of its prey, it smiled, the thick muzzle pulling back to reveal rows of sharp teeth. A thick purple tongue flickered out, wiping back the thin film of saliva that had formed on the ivory incisors.

It shifted on its back legs as it sized up the obstacle in front of it, pushing off a moment later, leaping high into the air onto the wall, completely vertical, and continuing to run as on
e might along a flattened road.

As it ran, im
ages of a phantom life, from before the change, assailed it from every angle. They were momentary distractions, side effects of its creation. It recalled coming to Aralene, coming as something with two feet and an angry heart, but the thoughts did little to quell the overwhelming hunger in its gut.

Near the top of the rampart it encountered resistance, a magical barrier placed long ago by the wizards of the Academy, lending their aid to defend the city from uninvited guests, those who did not pass through t
he gate were not supposed to be able to surmount the peak of the wall. Such things were useless against this particular intruder and it slipped through, the magical detriment shedding along its skin like water on glass.

There! The warm glow of its prey sto
od out like a candle in the night, and another push of its mighty legs sent it hurtling onto the surprised guard, who didn’t even have time to scream as strong jaws tore out his throat.

It began to devour the man immediately, not waiting for the death thro
es to subside. The guard was still aware of the sensation of being eaten alive. Pleasure coursed down the beast’s body, tiny chills that had it whining in ecstasy.

In mere moments nothing was left of the guard b
esides bits and pieces of armor, the metal rended and split by powerful jaws. The beast licked its jowls and then turned its head toward the sleeping city of Aralene, the lights flickering off in the distance.

Far stronger than even its hunger came the com
pulsions, implicit orders to carry out, concerning more things to kill and maim. It panted eagerly, red eyes glowing in the early morning dark. A slight growl emanated from its gut as it considered the instructions given to it by its creator. 

It looked f
orward to slaying those its creator decreed unworthy. But it would have done so even without the magical instructions. Flashes of its previous life instilled in it an overwhelming sense of anger toward these individuals.  The only clue as to the cause of its insatiable need was a single word:

Vengeance.