The Death of Promises (26 page)

“Not found,” Haern said. “I have been inside its walls. The Spider Guild did not take kindly to my faith in Ashhur.”

Delysia winced. She and Haern had spent many nights conversing underneath the stars. Haern had been a trained killer since birth, and so the opportunity to speak and think without fear of judgment or punishment had proven addictive. One night the members of the Spider Guild had assaulted them, dragging Haern toward the temple of Karak while leaving Delysia for dead.

“They thought to purge me of my belief,” Haern continued. Old wounds drained the life from his eyes. “I memorized the way, and I will never forget that building, both the illusion and its true form.”

“Then we tell the guards,” Aurelia said. “The priests of Karak are forbidden from the city. Once King Vaelor hears of an entire temple he’ll…”

“He’ll do nothing,” Tarlak said. “Because he already knows. Every king is informed on the first night they take the throne. They’re also told, in no uncertain terms, that they will die should they try to remove the priests from the capital.”

“How do you know this?” Aurelia asked. Tarlak feigned shock and insult.

“Why, because I’m a wizard, of course. I’m supposed to know these things.”

“The temple’s existence is common knowledge to the upper members of Veldaren,” Haern explained. “The priests focus their attention on the wealthy, and gain safety and power through them. The priests of Karak bring only the most faithful and rich to their temple, and even then they bring them blindfolded.”

“Why don’t the priests of Ashhur do something about it?” Aurelia asked.

“Open warfare on the streets?” Tarlak asked with a chuckle. “Fun as that would be, Callan and his ilk accept the temple as a necessary evil. But we, however, do not fall under their  jurisdiction.”

“What was this about war on the streets?” Harruq asked as he came limping down the stairs. Aurelia frowned and rose from her chair.

“You shouldn’t be up and around, you’ll make yourself sick.”

“Haern’s beaten me far worse than this,” the half-orc argued, though his voice was weak and unconvincing. He accepted Aurelia’s arms and used her weight to reach her chair. She wrapped her blanket around him before sitting down beside Delysia.

“We don’t want war on the streets,” Tarlak said. “So we must be certain the priests are committing these murders and mutilations. But do we really have the strength to take them on, in their home no less?”

Haern leaned back and ran his hands through his blond hair.

“No. I don’t think we do,” he said. “But that hasn’t stopped us before. We have never taken such a great risk, so if we do, we must do it with all our abilities. If the priests of Karak survive, we will be guaranteed retaliation.” He looked around at his friends. “And I would not wish that upon any of you.”

“We need to be more vigilant,” Aurelia said. “We keep looking and keep searching. If we find and stop the priests outside the temple, they will view us as mercenaries performing a job. Those we kill will be faulted for being caught.”

“Will that be enough to deter the killings?” Haern asked.

“It will be if we kill enough of them,” Aurelia said, the hardness in her eyes frightening.

“Fantastic,” Harruq said. “Why are they doing these killings in the first place?”

“Karak seeks total devotion,” Delysia said after a long period of silence. “This means inhibition, compassion, and humanity must be purged. These mutilations, these sacrifices, are meant to show their faith. And I think we are ignoring one other aspect. Fear. There is a reason the bodies are being dumped for all to see.”

“If it is fear they want, they’re getting it,” Tarlak said, remembering the talk he heard the previous day. “And it’ll get worse, especially with how those three were found.”

When Harruq asked how, the wizard shook his head.

“Some things are best to remain in the dark. For now, we rest, pray, and do what we do best for the rest of the day. Come night, we’ll scour the city and hope to Ashhur we catch whoever’s doing this before more bodies are found strung from…never mind. Good day everyone.”

He downed the rest of his glass, made it vanish with a snap of his fingers, and then hurried up the stairs. To Harruq’s questioning look, Haern only shook his head and shuddered.

T
hat night the Eschaton gathered near the western entrance to the city. The air was cold, and they all wore extra layers underneath their armor and robes, as well as thick cloaks wrapped about their bodies.

“Harruq, Aurelia, you search the southern quarter,” Tarlak ordered. “Del and I will scan the west. Haern gets the east. So far no one’s been taken from the north, so we’ll leave it be until they do.”

“You going to be alright without me?” Delysia asked Harruq.

“Sure thing,” the half-orc said with a wink. “Aurry will keep me safe.”

“If you find any priests of Karak, use your best judgment,” Tarlak said. “If they are too many, seek us out. Even if it is just one, treat him like a wild dragon.”

“Yes, daddy,” Aurelia said before taking Harruq’s hand and pulling him away. Haern bowed, tied his hair behind his head, and then leapt to the rooftops.

“Come on,” Tarlak said, casting invisibility spells over he and his sister. “Let’s see if we can finally catch these murdering crows.”

D
espite the danger, the priests wore their black robes openly in the dark streets. Their success had emboldened them. No man or woman who noticed them would dare point an accusatory finger come the dawn. Leading the group of five was Pelarak, the revered priest of Karak.

“Tonight will be special,” Pelarak said, fingering the pendant shaped like a lion skull that hung from his neck. His voice was deep and firm, a powerful presence in the streets of Veldaren. “The fear we have caused is a pittance compared to our task tonight. Before the rise of the sun, the armies of Karak will conquer all.”

“What about the Eschaton?” the priest on his left asked.

“They have a part to play in this,” Pelarak answered. From his belt he drew a dagger. “Come. Our time is short.”

They followed him north, heading straight for the fountain at the center of Veldaren.

O
ne good sleep,” Harruq mumbled, rubbing his eyes with his giant fists. “That’s all I want. Why is it when bad things start happening, we always have to scour the city at night?”

“Such a baby,” Aurelia said, jabbing him in the ribs with an elbow. “You’re a step away from dead every time you plop down in our bed. What happened to this fabled orcish stamina we elves always heard about?”

“Bunch of lies,” the half-orc muttered. “We like sleep, we like food, and we don’t like staying up all night staring at empty streets.”

The two were perched atop a building. Aurelia had used a levitation spell to bring them up. Other than a few drunks and stray animals, they hadn’t seen a sign of life.

“People are becoming afraid,” Aurelia said, frowning. “Staying home and avoiding the streets at night. But there is something else going on. Something… Harruq, look up.”

He sighed and glanced to the cloud-covered sky.

“Yup, might rain. Perfect.”

“No, look closer.”

He did, and was stunned he had not seen it before.

“Oh gods,” he said, his jaw dropping. “What does it mean?”

“We need to find Tarlak, now.” Aurelia grabbed his hand and leapt them off the roof, using another levitation spell to slow their fall. Hand in hand they ran as far above them the red skull of a lion blanketed the entire western sky, a ghostly image shimmering across the clouds.

A
s Haern leaned over the edge of a building, nothing more than a pair of eyes shining in the night, he heard a strange cry. He could not place it, but it sounded bestial and deep. The stranger part was that he heard it from the sky. He looked up, and there it was, a giant skull with its mouth opened in roar. It was blood red and hovered above the city like an angry god.

“Not good,” he said before breaking into a sprint. Another roar thundered through the city, louder, angrier. Even without his exceptionally trained hearing, Haern could tell where it came from. He leapt from rooftop to rooftop, straight for the heart of the city.

W
hen they heard the deep roar, they knew something was horribly amiss. Harruq drew his swords, and Aurelia summoned her staff and prepared her spells. They expected to see guards rushing toward the center, but so far the streets remained barren.

“Where are the guards?” Harruq asked as they ran.

“Afraid,” she answered. “We underestimated what is going on. I’m scared, Harruq.”

“We’ve faced worse,” he said.

“No,” she said. “Stop.” She pulled on his arm, and reluctantly he slowed. He could feel his own horror growing at a rapid pace, a strange cancer that he was unaccustomed too. All he could think of was fleeing to the Eschaton tower and cowering away from the lion in the sky.

“It’s magic,” Aurelia said, brushing her hand across his face as she stared into his eyes. “Look at me. Look, and repeat after me. The fear is weak when the threat is false. Say it.”

“The fear is weak when the threat is false.”

Soft light flickered on her fingertips. “Again.”