Mythborn: Rise of the Adepts (48 page)

"Patience, Mighty U’Zar," said Scythe, smiling.

The chieftain gave a mental start, knowing this man could read thoughts. He cursed his lapse. Scythe’s voice reverberated in his head, echoing,
this man is dangerous.

He let out a forceful sigh, then said the only thing he could, "We both still have our uses."

Scythe locked eyes with the nomad chieftain and a small twitter escaped his lips. "Indeed." Then he looked away and back at the watery image of Silbane.

The voice that came next out of Scythe’s mouth had a different tone, one now filled with tactical confidence and military demeanor. "Only two things can happen at this point. Either Silbane uses his Finder, or his apprentice does. I have set the portal web in place."

"And you think this unseen web will work?"

Scythe flicked the water’s surface and the image collapsed in a dozen ripples. They quickly died, as if the water were made out of something thicker, and the image returned. Now Hemendra could see purple lines crisscrossing the tent, filling the air around Silbane like a strange spider’s web. "If the portal opens, it touches one of these lines. That will not only summon me, but lock the portal open until I can decide what to do."

Hemendra smiled and said, "Giving us a way into Bara’cor." The massive warrior looked at the Redrobe with a grudging respect. "A good plan."

Scythe ignored the chieftain’s compliment and said, "I attend to the great dragon. See that I am not disturbed."

Hemendra nodded, backing out of the tent along with a small contingent of guards. He went to choose a small group of elite warriors for the difficult task of entering Bara’cor. In case the Redrobe’s plan worked, he intended to have a team ready to enter the great fortress and take her from the inside.

* * * * *

Scythe went outside and then to a tent near his own, moving with purpose. He had had the warriors transfer the body of the dragon to this place. It afforded more privacy for what was to come next. He entered the tent, his eyes quickly adjusting to the gloom, and made his way over to the iron circle upon which the great dragon-knight’s body lay.

He walked close, inspecting it with a clinical eye. The warriors had left the circle resting upon a table at waist height, making his inspection easy. Satisfied there was no other injury, the mage straightened the dragon-knight’s head and neck, then reached behind and in one fluid motion, ripped the arrow from the base of the skull.

It released itself with a wet
pop,
the arrowhead covered in a black, oily liquid that stank of sulfur. The mage dropped the arrow and waited, but not long.

A sudden gasp tore through the dragon-knight and his eyes opened wide, glowing with yellow light like two miniature suns. Scythe could hear bones snapping back into place, muscle and sinew repairing itself. Dragons, he knew, were notoriously difficult to kill.

Smiling, he motioned and the great iron circle lifted into the air, suspended by his power alone. He turned it so the dragon-knight faced him and said, "I welcome you, Lord Rai’stahn."

Rai’stahn looked at the mage, golden eyes calculating. Scythe knew the strength was returning to his limbs, but Silbane’s prana locks were still in place, limiting his power.

"Mortal, thou are not my equal. Release me, or suffer."

Scythe held up a forestalling hand. "All in good time, my lord. First, I would know the purpose of your visit."

The dragon-knight strained against his bonds, but was held tight, his armor and scales fused to the metal circle behind him. With his prana locks in place, breaking free would be impossible. He turned his full attention to the mage and recognition dawned on him.

"It has been some time, my lord," Scythe said, "but my quest remains the same."

Scythe felt understanding flood Rai’stahn’s mind. "Bara’cor, then, is still thine objective."

"Yes, though your presence and, Silbane’s, bodes ill. The timing is not ideal." A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "And as
you
know, timing is everything, is it not?"

The dragon-knight ignored the bait and simply replied, "We do what we must."

"We do indeed, my lord. We act when our actions will have the most effect." He paused at that, then added delicately, "The Isle came under attack."

* * * * *

At the utterance of those words, Rai’stahn felt a sudden panic for his hatchling and closed his eyes, searching. He easily located the Isle and the multitudes of bright sparks that existed in and around there, the brightest being his child. The Isle seemed untouched, but the great dragon knew his demesne as only a lord of his people would. While many lived, many had passed on, their sparks extinguished. With shock, he realized the mortal spoke truly. "More than just Themun."

"Why did you hazard their safety?" asked Scythe.

The dragon ignored him, still searching the vast world. He then saw the spark he was looking for and sent out a silent call.

"You left them undefended, to escort a mage and his apprentice here. None would have dared move against you, but you left an opening. Why?"

He felt Scythe trying to reach into his mind, and slammed down a wall of psychic energy, shutting him out. Frustration washed across Scythe’s features and he said, "Must you insist on plain speech? Can we not parley directly?"

"Sharing thoughts with thee hath not been earned,
mortal."
He put emphasis on the last word, the entire situation serving to frustrate him to greater degrees. First Silbane, now this. He also cursed Sovereign, who was clearly responsible for this attack. The great dragon knew Sovereign would not yet move against the dragons, but against others… harm had come to his people through his slight lapse.

Scythe looked away, then pulled up a stool and sat down. Perhaps a wisp of the dragon’s anger leaked out, for he said, " Silbane lives."

"Until I am released."

"Why?" Scythe asked. "Why did you attack Arek? Can he truly disrupt the Gate? Is my quest in danger?" As he spoke, a kind of hunger seemed to take over, his questions spilling into one another as if they fought to get out and be heard.

Rai’stahn said simply, "Release me and thou wilt see."

Scythe shook his head. "Not until I know exactly what is going on." He pulled out a short knife, wickedly sharp and curved, designed to butcher an animal. "I cannot compel you, my lord. We both know this." He looked down and another voice from him hissed, "Nothing really dies."

He stood stock still, as if reliving a memory. Then with a start he looked up, his pale eyes going from a distant stare to the here and now with an almost audible
snap.
"It took you only a few moments to heal from the arrow wound."

Rai’stahn did not answer, merely looking at the man with his golden gaze. Mayhap achieving his quest would be best for all the worlds, he mused.

"How long would it take if I cut you apart, burned you to ashes, and spread those to the four corners of Edyn?"

When the dragon-knight didn’t respond, Scythe smiled and said, "It could be hundreds of years before you revived. What will happen to your daughter who nests on the Isle? Perhaps, someone will pay her a visit, too?"

At the threat to his hatchling, Rai’stahn surged forward and an animal roar tore from his throat, "Thou
dares!"

* * * * *

For his part, Scythe did not move, his face inches from Rai’stahn’s fanged teeth. The events over the many years of his long life had slowly deadened him to most things. He saw the dragon’s outburst in a detached way, as if someone else watched through his own eyes.

No, not deadened
, a voice gently reminded.
Your suffering has shielded you, and brings you ever closer to your beloved
. With that, even the dragonfear washed over him like a cool breeze.

He exhaled once through his nose, then said, "Tell me what I wish to know or I will do as I say and see if your hatchling can be forced to mate with dogs. She will suffer every single day,
for years,
just as I have. I promise you." He kept his gaze locked on the golden eyes of Rai’stahn. "Test my word."

In a contest of wills, one did not attempt a dragon. They were implacable creatures suffused with power, their very essence made from the Way. They were power incarnate, living gods who still walked this world. Normally, a single man would be devoured both mentally and physically for daring such an affront.

However, there was nothing normal about Scythe. He had suffered, lost, and fallen far from a place where any semblance of normalcy still reigned. Fear required one to have something to lose, and Scythe had nothing. He would make good on his threat and the great dragon was too weakened to stop him.

Scythe did not say anything more, holding the dragon’s molten gaze in his own pale one, his eyes never wavering. In the end, the conclusion was inevitable. He would win and they both knew it.

The dragon-knight stared, but a sulfurous sigh escaped from his lips. A moment later, Rai’stahn was the first to look away. "Do not believe thy threat will go unanswered."

Scythe could almost feel the dragon’s will collapse. "To do so would be foolish." He stood, waiting, the dagger slowly tapping on his thigh.

Rai’stahn’s lip curled, revealing his fanged teeth. His golden eyes narrowed. "Very well. The boy is more than he seems."

"Obviously," Scythe said curtly, then asked, "but can he truly disrupt the Way?"

The dragon-knight shook his head. "He doth not disrupt it. He
consumes
it. He draws the Way unto himself, depleting all around him. I felt mine own strength ebb as we flew here."

"The Gate cannot be threatened!" Scythe’s jaw worked, his teeth grinding as he felt the panic begin to build again at the idea of his life’s work at harm. It was his only chance. He could feel his emotions well up, threatening to spill over again into that place where he could do nothing but watch. He did not like that person, it was not who he really was.

Just when the force of memory became almost too much to bear, he heard the dragon say, "Release me and thy Gate will be safe. I will kill the boy."

Scythe spun and faced Rai’stahn, a blanket of calm serenity stretched tightly over his mental conflagration. He took a careful step forward, as if treading lightly to avoid breaking his precarious hold, "Why?"

"The boy cannot be suffered to live. He continues to absorb power from the very air that surrounds him and will eventually destroy any who harness the Way. He must be eradicated, or he will be the death of us all."

The simple statement hit Scythe with an almost physical force. His mind whirled through the logic, like planks, toppling each fact in a quick line. That would include all the Elder Races: dragons, dwarves, even those who were born with Talent. It would make everything, Scythe involuntarily gasped,
mundane.

"Thou sees the danger."

The calmness continued its hold, as the analytical part of Scythe’s fractured mind now turned its attention to the problem of the great dragon. "If I release you, you will kill me." He said this with no emotion, a simple statement of fact.

"Will that not help your life’s work?" asked the dragon, seemingly mocking the mage.

"If I am to recover
them,
I must pass through alive, else I would have ended this accursed existence long ago."

The dragon-knight shifted, then said, "My hatchling cannot live in a world where this boy lives. Our interests are aligned. I can put aside thy words."

"You’ll understand if I say I don’t believe you, my lord." Scythe looked at the dragon for a moment, noting that most of the creature’s visible wounds had healed, then said, "Take the Blood Oath."

Rai’stahn laughed. "Oath-forged, with thee? Thou art truly mad."

"Then you are of no use to me," Scythe replied. He moved forward with the knife.

"Wait." The dragon met the archmage’s pale gaze, then let loose a volcanic growl, emanating from deep within his armored chest. Anyone else who faced the dragon’s anger would have fled, but Scythe was not just any man. The dragon dropped his head in defeat and said simply, "I agree."

* * * * *

Rai’stahn felt one arm come free. He pulled it close, his hand tightening into a fist. He could feel power course through those veins, but held back by the bonds of Scythe and the locks Silbane had placed. He cursed himself again for trusting that particular mortal, and frankly, he corrected himself, mortals in general. His eyes narrowed into golden slits and he asked, "Thou wilt seek out the boy?"

"No, my lord. I have reason to believe that Silbane’s apprentice will come here using a Finder. I have arranged for that portal to remain open, leading me back into Bara’cor. You can do what you want with the boy and leave me to my purposes."

Rai’stahn nodded, thankful Themun had followed his orders regarding his talisman. Now that offered him a chance to retrieve the boy before it was too late.

Scythe continued, "Do you take this oath with me?"

"Very well, Lore Father," Rai’stahn intoned. "By the blood of my people, I bind myself to thee as ally. I wilt cause no harm to befall thee from my action or inaction." In one fluid motion, he bent his finger forward and sliced a razor sharp nail across his palm. Black blood seeped from the cut.

Scythe bowed and said, "By the blood of my forefathers, I bind myself to you as ally. My oath as Keeper of the Old Lore, I will cause no harm to befall you from my action or inaction." He tapped the gutting knife against his temple, smiled at the dragon, then cut his own palm open. Red blood gushed from the wound and he quickly clamped his hand with the dragon’s so their wounds touched.

A golden flash occurred at the point of contact, then grew to encompass them both. Then just as quickly it disappeared in a flash of white. Scythe removed his hand and his wound had healed, leaving only a thin white scar where the Oath Cut had been. A similar scar ran across the dragon’s palm, but even that was quickly fading.

Scythe stepped back, then gestured. The dragon-knight felt all the bonds holding him to the circle disappear. He slipped off the circle and landed with a grace that belied his great size.