Ascendants of Ancients Sovereign (Worlds of the Crystal Moon, Book 1) (77 page)

Not knowing how much George had hated his father, Amar smiled. “I’m honored you hold me in such high regard. Thank you.”

George shrugged. “Not a problem, Pops.”

Both men laughed.

A moment later, George allowed a feigned look of desperation to appear on his face. “I really need some advice.” He paused for effect. “If I’m going to take on the barbarians, I’m going to need help.”

Amar nodded, but he did not respond.

George made sure he was looking into Amar’s eyes when he continued. “I didn’t want Kepler and Maldwin to hear this, but I need a friend. I need a father figure. I’ve lost so much.” He paused again for effect. “But more than that, I need someone I can completely trust, and I see you as the person I can tell anything. But I may be assuming too much. I’m sorry, Amar, but do you think you could be all that for me?”

Amar placed his right hand on the manipulator’s left knee and squeezed. “You sound desperate. Are you okay, George?”

George shook his head. “No, I’m not okay. Look, I know I sound like some kind of sap right now, and I completely understand if you don’t think you can be there for me.” He paused again. “I mean ... what was I thinking? I’m sorry, Amar. I shouldn’t have bothered you.” The manipulator finished off his deception by allowing a tear to roll down his cheek.

Amar was unsure how to respond at first. The shed remained silent as he searched for the right thing to say. “I am old enough to be your father. I suppose I have it in me. I have to admit that I had my doubts about you as well. I didn’t think you cared for my companionship. I’m surprised at your request.”

George played up the part. “I’m not above begging. The people that I love will benefit by loving me back. So, what do you say?”

A few more moments passed, and then Amar nodded. “I will take you in as my own and try to replace the father you lost. I just hope I don’t let you down.”

The manipulator turned and straddled the bench in order to face Amar. “I cannot tell you how good that makes me feel.” George reached out and placed his hand on Amar’s shoulder. “I have news, my new father of mine ... news that might make you happy.”

Amar’s brows lifted. “What sort of news?”

“Well … it’s like this. I know where you can gain a significant amount of power above what you already command.” George enjoyed the surprise on Amar’s face. “That’s right. I know the depth of your power. I also know of a woman who has surpassed your ability. Her magic would increase yours if you were to seek her out and take it from her.”

Amar questioned, “How do you know the depth of my magic? I have said nothing of it. And how do you know the secret of the ancient elves?”

“I’m pretty smart, Amar. But your knowledge of this secret comes from the same source as mine ... Lasidious. Now that we’re united, I’ll tell you the woman’s name if you want to know it. This is my way of showing you that it is my true desire to be your son.”

“George, this is valuable information. Please ... I desperately would like to know her name.”

George’s bright smile widened. “Let’s take our relationship to new heights. Together, we’ll seize control of this world.”

Amar’s grin reflected his urgency to know more. “You must tell me this woman’s name, and where can I find her?”

George spit in his hand and stuck it out. “Before I tell you, we need to seal the deal.”

Amar stared at the saliva in George’s palm.

George explained. “It’s not gross or anything to take my hand. Where I’m from, this is how we become family. You spit in your hand, and I spit in mine. When we shake, it’s a done deal. You do want to be my father, right?”

Amar nodded. If all it took was one handful of spit to get the information he needed to acquire more power, it was worth it. He lifted his hand, spit in his palm and then smiled as he extended his arm.

George grabbed Amar’s hand and shook it. As he did, a sinister smile appeared on his face. “I’m so glad you fell for this garesh.”

Amar’s eyes widened. He tried to speak to defend himself, but it was too late. His tongue was already stone. He ripped his hand away and tried to take a step back, but his feet were too heavy. They were also petrified, and both of his hands were beginning to turn.

The pain was severe, and the grayness spreading across the backside of his hands frightened him. Again, Amar tried to move, but the weight of his feet caused him to become unbalanced. He fell backward to his butt and hit his head on the side of the forge.

George reached down, grabbed Amar’s arm and pulled him away from the heat. He then knelt and touched the tip of Amar’s nose, putting a stone blockage on the mage’s dorsal horn that was located on his spinal cord. The pain stopped. George readjusted Amar’s position so that he was flat on his back.

Amar wanted to call forth the power to stop his attacker in the worst way, but he could not. The entirety of his mouth was now stone, and the words necessary to command the devastation he wanted to inflict were impossible to utter.

“Cat got your tongue?” George sneered. “Just relax. Don’t be so bitchy. Your eyes are cussing at me. That’s not very nice.”

George noticed that some of the color had abandoned Amar’s skin. “You look pale, Pops. What have you been eating? I think you need some iron in your diet.”

George peeled back the sleeves of Amar’s robe. “You know what? I don’t think I did a very good job. Turning your hands to stone has made your forearms jealous. What was I thinking? We should have invited them to the party. How could I have been so rude? You deserve better from me.” He leaned down and whispered in Amar’s ear. “A father always deserves the best from his son, don’t you think?”

George enjoyed the irritation in Amar’s eyes as he straightened up and continued. “Allow me to fix the problem.” He touched the mage’s flesh again and again on various areas of his left forearm. Small, gray dots appeared beneath each poke.

George leaned forward and looked into Amar’s eyes. “I wish I had a marker on me. I bet these dots have a pattern. But how is anyone going to know which dot is first?” He put his hand to his chin. “I know. Check this out.” Again, George placed his finger on Amar’s flesh. Tiny stone numbers appeared by each dot. “That’s better.” He reclaimed Amar’s eyes. “I’ll tell you a secret. If anybody figures this out, it’s going to spell your name ... Gullible.”

After a brief chuckle, George lifted Amar’s left arm and allowed it to fall. He listened to the sound the mage’s hand made as it thumped against the floor. “I wonder if you would’ve had the ability to lift your arms if I didn’t put the blockage on your spine? Do you think you could’ve hit me with hands as heavy as those? Hmmmmm! I guess we’ll never know. What a shame.”

Standing up, George moved to a corner of the barn. On his way, he passed several shields that had been crafted earlier in the Peak, and they all bore the crest of Brandor.

George spoke from the shadows as he faced the corner. “Give me a moment, will ya? I gotta piss. I’m sure you don’t mind.” He looked over his shoulder at Amar. “Man, I hope you can’t feel anything. You’re kind of quiet over there.” He turned back to the corner. “Ahhhh, never mind.”

He was laughing so hard that he struggled to tie the fly on his pants. George reached into his right, front pocket and pulled out his cigarette lighter. He tapped it’s butt end on each shield as he moved past them and then knelt next to Amar.

George put the lighter back in his pocket and then ripped the mage’s robe open. “Yuck! I hate a hairy chest. You’re not a swimmer are you? Allow me to get rid of your fur.” He took his knife and started to cut away the flesh to expose the mage’s sternum. “You know what, Amar? I hate to say this, but I’m not a doctor. I’m not even qualified to be doing this. Heck, I don’t even play one on TV.” He leaned over and looked into Amar’s eyes again. “You know, it sucks that you don’t know what my jokes mean. I guess it doesn’t matter. You probably wouldn’t laugh anyway.”

Peeling the last bit of flesh away, George grimaced. “This may leave you a little out of it when you wake up. Oh wait, what am I saying? You’re not going to wake up. I know, I know, I know. I should probably say I’m sorry, but I think you know I’m not going to.”

Again, George looked into Amar’s eyes. “You wouldn’t have any idea how I should bust your chest open, would ya? Maybe that hammer and the chisel over there near the forge would work? I bet an ancient elf would know.”

The helpless expression in Amar’s eyes spoke volumes.

George responded, “Ahhhhh, you don’t like that idea, do you? I can see you’re upset.” He paused as if he was giving Amar the moments to respond. “Come on, Pops. Stop giving me the silent treatment. Geez.” Again, George laughed.

Amar desperately wanted to cram George’s malevolent smile down his throat, but all he could do was watch as the smithing hammer pounded against the chisel. Clank! Clank! Clank! The sound echoed throughout the barn with an eerie wickedness.

A tear rolled from Amar’s left eye and came to rest inside his ear. With his chest pried open, the mage watched his pumping heart get ripped from its cavity, and George took the first bite before the last bit of light faded from his eyes.

Outside the smith’s barn, Lasidious stood beneath one of the torches lighting the road leading to the city and watched as George discovered the special effects he had asked for. The light show was spectacular, and the Mischievous One knew that Amar’s power was now George’s to command. But he could not stop himself from wondering how the heart tasted.

Lasidious would appear to George in another dream later that night and teach the new mage how to use a portion of his power. The great thing about George’s new ability was that he could command it naturally. He would never need to speak words of power or use magical items. This was the Mischievous One’s most fascinating creation yet, and it was all accomplished without breaking the laws on the pages of the Book of Immortality. He had not taken anyone’s free will, but George had. He loved loopholes.

Later that night, George lay down on the bed. Despite the fact that he was still wearing his blood-soaked clothes, it was not long before he fell asleep—but rest would be short-lived. Lasidious was requesting access to his dreams.

With his mind open, the Mischievous One took just enough of the new mage’s moments to teach George how to teleport. He did not want George anywhere near the city of Champions when rumors began to spread about Amar’s death. Lasidious informed George that Matilda was suspicious because he did not return with Amar. The blood on his clothes had prompted her to call for the guards, and they were on their way up.

The dream ended. George rolled out of bed and moved to the far side of the room. After picking Maldwin up off the hearth of the fireplace that was still filled with glowing embers, he closed his eyes and concentrated as Lasidious had just instructed.

The door burst open and the guards charged in. They demanded his surrender as they held their swords high, but their orders fell on an empty room.

The next thing George knew, he was standing outside Athena’s mother’s farmhouse. He was about to knock on the front door, but realized he had to address the blood on his clothes first.

Grabbing a knife out of his boot, he set Maldwin on the ground and turned away so the rat could not see what he was doing. He cut the top of his head and allowed the blood to drip down his face.

He knocked. He would feign an assault and tell Athena’s mother that he had been jumped by the same mishandlers who had tried to rob him on the night he met her daughter. Mary would then tell Athena the story so he would not have to lie to her.

The door opened. To his surprise, Athena was standing on the other side. She freaked out when she saw the blood and pulled George inside, shutting the door behind them.

Maldwin looked up from the ground, unsure what he should do. He sat there on his haunches, twitching his nose, staring at the door until it finally opened.

George scooped the rat up to bring him inside. “Sorry, little guy,” George whispered. “Babe! This is Maldwin. I know he’s a rat, but I really like him, so don’t freak out. He’s my pet, okay?”

Athena responded in a scolding voice, “George, put the rat down and sit! You’re a mess! What happened?”

Well, fellow soul, I don’t know about you, but if it were up to me, I would’ve asked Lasidious to give me a nice Chianti before I agreed to eat a bloody heart. Yuck! I suppose the love we have for our children can make us do some of the craziest things!

CHAPTER 28

The Visions Begin

ATHENA CLEANED THE BLOOD from George’s face and stopped the bleeding. She asked many questions, but George would not answer them. Each time she asked, he gave her a kiss and said, “Don’t worry about it, babe, I’m okay,” and changed the subject. After a while, Athena gave up and stopped questioning.

George was glad he was able to avoid telling her a lie. He felt bad enough that Maldwin was going to manipulate the minds of her family, but he would not deceive her. He had to draw the line somewhere, and in his twisted mind, this was the line.