The Children of Urdis (Grimwold and Lethos Book 2) (35 page)

The bull was there. It dwelt in the black corners of his mind, a skulking presence that no longer ruled him but instead served his will.

Lethos called to it, and a bass roar answered.

Black fur sprouted along his arms that thickened with muscle and grew in mass. His vision turned red as his body was consumed in the heat of transformation. When the haze parted, Lethos towered over the scene. Grimwold struggled with a myriad of tentacles dragging upon his soul. Valda remained dominated into submission, and Sharatar's body lay in a pile.

The black mist still concentrated upon Grimwold, even though the yellow eye now rotated up to stare at him. Did it not think him a threat?

Lethos roared, of his own will, not from the tyranny of a rabid bull spirit, and flexed his massive claws. He stomped forward, his hooves thudding into the ground, then swiped at the ball of mist.

His claw tore away a handful of cold mist-flesh, and the yellow eye snapped to his own, its black pupil widening as if in shock.

Tentacles laced all about him, but he batted these aside carelessly. Both claws tore into the mist form, digging for the eyeball at the center. As the tentacles brushed his flesh, he felt the cold waves of despair hitting him. But the words and images did not penetrate. All he felt was an intense, burning rage and frustration that his hands were not covered in blood. At last he seized the yellow eye, finding it no more substantial than mist, but he crushed it in him massive claws.

The black mist retracted into a ball. Lethos's mind filled with a horrible shriek like an infernal cat that had been caught in a trap. He crushed the eyeball, hoping for the satisfaction of a snap or gush of blood. Instead all he experienced was utter coldness between his palms as whatever this thing was vanished from the world.

It was gone, and Lethos stood heaving over his two friends. Grimwold lay flat, exhausted and stunned, while Valda held her head in both hands. Lethos was still in control of the bull. But he was not satisfied. The bull demanded blood, and all it received was little better than fog.

There was Sharatar's body. It lay crumpled beside Grimwold, his strange armor covered in runes of blood that Avulash had written.

There was his satisfaction. He stomped forward and snatched the body from the ground with one massive claw. Through the senses of the bull spirit, he smelled the blood in this body. He felt the faint pulse of it even through the armor.

He ripped away the breastplate, bending it as one pulls back a bedsheet. The claw of his free hand traced a line across the pale chest of the storm rider, then he pulled back his arm to plunge it into the flesh.

"Lethos, wait!" Grimwold recovered from his shock. He was on his knees now, clutching at the heavy fur covering Lethos's legs. "We need him alive."

This was not what the bull demanded. It demanded blood when summoned, and it had received none. It would rage until it was appeased. He continued to pull back his hand.

"You doom us all if you slay him," Grimwold shouted. "Lethos, if you are in there still, then hear me. Don't kill him."

Lethos was in there. Yes, he was Lethos and not a dim-witted bull. He stared down at Grimwold and grumbled in his chest. Valda now raised her face to his, and she gently shook her head as if in disappointment. This would just show her that he was a raging beast incapable of control even by his bonded Prime. As queen, she would have to put him down, wouldn't she? And what would happen when she realized that was beyond her abilities?

He dropped Sharatar's body, the armor still remaining clanging together as it hit the ground. The storm rider seemed to stir as if just awakening to his danger. He was Lethos, not a bull, and he made his own choices.

The bull went back into hiding, Lethos envisioning a black bull being prodded into a pen. His vision again went red and his body was consumed in heat. This time, when his eyes returned, he was staring up at the sky. Grimwold's face suddenly appeared over his.

"You did it," he said. "You control the beast."

Grimwold laughed. Lethos wanted to join him but it would not come. Was there anything funny about being sprawled out naked before your queen and friend? He tried to cover himself by twisting to the side, but Grimwold would not give him the satisfaction.

"Too late for humility now," he said, slapping his shoulder. A jolt of pain ran through him, for he had struck near the wild stone wound. "We should be able to find something for you to wear in these houses. You're going to have to get used to being naked, like Turo and Kafara did."

"I will see to that," Valda said. She averted her eyes, and Lethos felt a warmth in his cheeks he had thought would never come again. "You two should have a moment alone."

She stared at the pile of corpses then shuddered before disappearing around the corner of the house where Lethos had been sitting.

"Be careful," he said, wincing at the over-worried note in his voice.

"Danir has marked her," Grimwold said, sitting in the grass beside him. "You need not worry for your high queen."

"Where was Danir's mark when that demon had her wrapped in its tentacles?"

"His mark was upon me. He gave me the strength to fight it, and so he protected us all. It's not the first time I've seen such a thing. A creature of Urdis the Deceiver, foul and weak."

"I won't ask where you've seen one before." Lethos sat up and pulled his legs to his chest, both he and Grimwold facing the stained wall where he had watched a day of horrors unfold. It was better than looking at the death behind them. The prone form of the unconscious Sharatar stirred with a dull moan.

"I'd like to say it's a story for another time, but it is not. I must tell you of all that has happened to me when I hung between life and the mist worlds."

"Do I want to know?"

"Knowing you, you do not. But the story must be told all the same." Grimwold fell silent and pulled off his gray cloak. "Sorry, you are cold. Wear this until Valda finds something better. Listen, I owe you my life. I know you did it because if I die, you die. But it doesn't change what you did, and actions count more than thoughts in this life. You're a true and brave friend, Lethos. When we both pass from this world, I will be glad to have you at my side in Danir's hall."

The heavy wool cloak was comforting around his shoulders and took the shiver out of him. He pulled it close around his throat and gave Grimwold a weak smile. The big man had a good if barbaric heart. Lethos would rather spend his afterlife frolicking in the Ilyzian Fields than in a smelly hall of barbarian marauders, but he needn't alert Grimwold to this hope.

Grimwold sighed and went into a fascinating description of his memories after being struck by the arrowhead fashioned from his birth stone. The inky stain that had covered Grimwold's chest seemed more of a curse from the Tsal than anything related to the stone. He was skeptical of Grimwold's encounter with a god, but he had witnessed Valda's transformation. He did feel as if he were living in a time of great changes, and so perhaps the gods may be active again. Yet he also could not help but doubt anything to do with gods. Turo and Kafara had deceived the world into believing the Great Shark had sided with Valahur during the war of the trolls. Could this be a similar deception from other Manifested? He did not voice the doubt and let Grimwold bring his story right up until the present moment. By this time, Valda had returned with a selection of simple clothing for him to wear.

"I brought extras in case you want to change. I mean, become a mon--bull man, again."

"In my country we call it a Minotaur," Lethos said. He smiled and nodded as she set the clothes next to him, but inside his heart sank at the unfinished word, "monster."

He slipped on brown pants first, then pulled on a gray shirt and cloak. "Now I just need to wash this blood off my face and I'll feel better."

Thinking of Avulash's blood rune made him study Sharatar's body. He did not recognize the bold shapes smeared over the plates of his armor, but they seemed like barbarian runes. The shirt beneath the missing breastplate had torn away to reveal the pallid flesh of a thin body.

"You say we're going to travel the storm with him. Do you think we can trust him?"

"I broke the wild stone charm he wore to protect himself from me. You know what I can do to him after that."

Lethos nodded thoughtfully, imagining a dozen horrors he could inflict on this storm rider. They prepared themselves as Sharatar continued to moan as if aware of the scrutiny he received. Valda had gone to stand by the pile of corpses, and Lethos collected the extra clothes she had carried to him. He joined her by the pile, careful not to look too closely at them. He had stared long enough at their horrid fate.

"Did you find a bag to pack the rest of these in?" It was a foolish question to ask of a queen, but as she stared down over the bodies, she seemed no more than a young woman who had lost her own family to a similar fate.

"Is this what they did to my family?"

Lethos swallowed. "They died quickly. I saw it."

Valda nodded, her expression inscrutable. She extended a hand and at first Lethos did not know why, then realized she was offering to take the extra clothing. He passed these to her. "These storm riders, Tsal or whatever they are called, must be destroyed. They are too dangerous to merely drive off. They have to be rooted from the world."

A brief silence continued and Lethos found the guts to ask what weighed on his heart. "Like me, right? When I become a monster, I cannot control myself and cannot be stopped."

She turned to him, her expression never shifting. "No, you have learned to control the beast. But we must see if that remains so. If not, then I will find a way to help you manage it. That is a totally different problem."

"But after the lightning strike, Grimwold said I wanted to go off and hide because I feared I would lose control again. Well, I did. I blacked out and when I awoke I was smeared with blood. Some poor man must have crossed my path and I killed him."

Valda gave a thin smile. "I think you wandered into a bear's territory and it found you. There were bear markings everywhere as we followed your trail here. Then we found a torn up bear and hoofprints in the dirt. I think you just defended yourself when attacked."

A smile sprung to his face and he could have kissed Valda right there, but then he felt the surge of power pulled off his body. So he instead turned to find Grimwold commanding Sharatar to stand and strip out of his armor.

"We'll be ready to travel soon. So make your peace with the dead and be ready." Grimwold stood now, his face glowing with anticipation.

Lethos exchanged looks with Valda. She raised her eyebrow. "Will this truly work?"

"It does for some, so why not us? We're about to learn what it's like to travel by storm."

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Lethos discovered travel by storm was not a pleasant experience, or at least Sharatar had made it so. With blood that sprung spontaneously to his palm, Sharatar had reached toward the sky and pulled down a whirling cone of cloud. He was firmly under Grimwold's control. Lethos felt the taut line of power drawn from his forehead supplying Grimwold with the strength he needed to dominate the storm rider. Yet his control was not refined, and Sharatar took his liberties.

They were ripped into the air and spun around the inside of the cloud like bits of leaves. Lethos could scarcely hear Grimwold commanding him to calm their spinning over the roar of the wind. But once it settled to a gentle rotation, it was like being in a glass room where a storm raged outside. He could see nothing and feel nothing but a cool, tingling sensation as they traversed land and ocean toward Tsaldalr.

Valda stared at him with her face shaded green, and Lethos was grateful she was not above him like Grimwold and Sharatar. She seemed ready to vomit at any moment. He watched her for the journey, which was not as long as he expected. The storm traveled directly and with the speed of the wind. Just when it seemed Valda would at last succumb to her sickness, they all jolted as the storm dropped them rapidly.

They crashed onto a beach in the shadow of black cliffs where a crack gave entrance to Tsaldalr. Only Sharatar landed with any grace. Lethos made an artless landing on his face, and was glad to have not witnessed what must have been Valda's humiliating landing on her face. She was rubbing sand and tangled hair from her face when Grimwold gathered them together. He did not let Sharatar out of his control. He was like a cobra on a leash, wavering beneath the struggle to defy Grimwold's commands.

This was the first time Lethos could truly look at a storm rider. He had all the outward appearance of a thin and fragile beauty, but up close it was lost. Sharatar's expression was cold and heartless. His eyes flashed with the disposition of a river crocodile from his home in Rao-Kharos, and he shared the reptile's malevolent smile. He might snap Lethos up in his jaws if given the chance.

"Takes us to your brothers," Grimwold commanded. "Keep us safe and do not betray us."

More power pulled off of Lethos's connection, drawing that line between his head and Grimwold's as taut as it had ever been. It occurred to Lethos that he had never seen Grimwold control one person continuously for so long. With considerably less responsibility in the process, Lethos was free to poke into Grimwold's mind and see that even he was not sure how long he could do this. His experience had always been with discreet commands and not extended, open-ended control. He was exploring new territory, and his grip upon Sharatar was not as firm as it seemed.

Grimwold knew Lethos had glimpsed all this, and gave him a wary look as he let Sharatar lead them into the darkness of the cracked rock.

Of course I won't say anything to Valda, he thought back. It's bad enough I have to panic. No need to double the load.

If he slips out of control, I'm counting on you to rip him to shreds. The thought came with a crude image of a massive black Minotaur tearing a bedsheet in half. The attempt at censorship made Lethos laugh out loud, drawing a curious look from Valda.