The Mage's Limits: Mages of Martir Book #2 (22 page)

“Uh, Master Hollech?” said Gujak, who was still peering around the side of the boulder. “I think you'll get a chance to meet their leader, or at least see him, very soon.”

“How do you know that?” Hollech said, putting his hands on his hips.

“Because I see him right now,” said Gujak. His wooden teeth were chattering now. “And I think … I think I know who he is.”

Durima and Hollech looked around the boulder with Gujak as best as they could. Durima had to get low to the ground to allow Hollech room to look over her, so she got the first glimpse of whoever the leader of the half-gods was.

And when she did, all her hope practically drained away from her like water in the sink.

The half-gods had stopped dancing now, all standing around the fire as if waiting for something. There was a new being in their midst, a humanoid being who walked around the fire as if it was nothing more than a small candle. He was silhouetted against the flame, but Durima had no trouble recognizing those muscular arms, nor could she forget the smell of death that seemed to follow him wherever he went.

“Who is he?” Hollech asked, looking at Gujak and Durima impatiently. “Do you two know who he is?”

As usual, Gujak was too afraid to speak. In fact, he was so afraid that he wasn't even shaking. No doubt he remembered what the leader of the half-gods had done to him last year, a memory even Durima could not forget if she tried.

She did not want to say his name, but there was no hiding it from Hollech.

So Durima said, in a voice little more than a whisper, “That, Master Hollech, is Uron. You know, the guy we told you about earlier? The one who killed two of your sisters?”

Hollech gripped the side of the boulder more tightly, though whether it was out of anticipation or fear, Durima didn't know. “So that's Uron, eh? He doesn't look that powerful.”

“Not to disagree, Master Hollech, but he could go toe-to-toe with Skimif himself,” Durima pointed out. “Which is to say that looks can be deceiving.”

“Why is he here, then?” said Hollech. “Why isn't he back in Martir killing my siblings? Did he come here to kill me? I bet he did. He probably sees me as a threat.”

Durima sighed internally. She did not see how Hollech, who despite his strength was essentially a depowered god, could be a threat to Uron in any way, shape, or form. But as always, she kept that thought to herself.

“What should we do, Master Hollech?” Gujak asked. Although he was clearly trying to be quiet, his voice became higher nonetheless. “Run?”

“Of course not, you cowardly katabans,” said Hollech, glaring at Gujak. “We stand here and wait to see if Uron is going to say anything to the half-gods.”

Just as Hollech finished speaking, Uron spoke. Although Uron's voice sounded different from how Durima remembered it—it wasn't as ancient-sounding as it used to be and had lost much of its hissing overtone—she still had no trouble recognizing his voice at all.

“My humble servants,” Uron said, still walking around the fire. “I see you have all made it today or tonight or whatever the time is here in this timeless place. But of course you did. None of you would dare defy me by refusing to come, now would you?”

The half-gods shifted uneasily, as if they wanted to run but were afraid of angering Uron. The fire continued to crackle, though it no longer changed colors or images quite as fast as before.

“Of course you wouldn't,” said Uron. “Not after you've seen my full power. Even you half-gods, with only half the brains of a full god, know that I could easily end all your lives here, at this very moment, just as you deserve.”

Durima stepped back involuntarily, but then she felt powerful, hoofed fingers grab her fur and looked up. Hollech's eyes were fixed firmly on Uron, although he must have noticed that she was about to run, because why else would he grab her like that?

“But enough with the reminders of your servitude to me,” said Uron. “Tell me, has anyone here ever seen the sun?”

None of the half-gods answered, though a few exchanged looks as if they did not know what Uron was talking about.

“Of course you haven't,” said Uron. He stopped and spread his arms. “You, all of you, have spent your entire lives in this dark, wretched place. You were placed here only because the Powers, in their infinite wisdom, did not want anyone to see their ugly, unfinished, and abandoned projects. But you all know that.”

Uron must have struck a chord because some of the half-gods nodded in agreement, though as a whole the half-gods were as still as statues.

“The sun is a beautiful thing,” said Uron, raising his arms as if to indicate its size. “It is like this fire, except a thousand times larger. It is one of the best privileges of living on Martir, one that has been denied to every one of you half-gods over the centuries.”

Is he trying to incite the half-gods to rebel?
Durima thought.
He's talking to them as if the gods had been intentionally oppressing these guys.

“But if you follow me, then that privilege, and so much more, will be yours,” said Uron. He lowered his arms. “But I can see the looks of boredom and confusion on your faces. You know all of this, have known it for a year, and are probably wondering why I bring it up again.”

Because you're an insane god murderer who likes to listen to the sound of his own voice?
Durima thought.

“Because the time is nigh,” said Uron. “In another month, I will lead you into Martir, where you will be able to live as freely as any of the gods. Isn't that what you all want, deep down inside?”

The half-gods began muttering among themselves. It sounded like they agreed with Uron, although it was hard to tell because based on what Durima could hear, they were not speaking in any Martirian language.

“The gods will not even see you coming,” said Uron. “You will emerge from the Void like the sun rising from the east. You will tear down the jewel of the Powers, that city on the edge of the world, known as World's End. The creation that symbolizes the Powers' utter hatred of you, as it was designed to be a home for the gods, a place where unfinished creations such as yourselves were never allowed to set foot.”

Gujak whimpered, causing Durima to slap her hand over his mouth to silence him before he gave away their position. Thankfully, neither Uron nor any of the half-gods appeared to notice.

“But not yet,” said Uron, shaking his head. “The time is not yet ripe. We have allies in Martir, allies who are not ready to strike. Once they are, I will know … and then the gods will know that even unfinished creations are not to be reckoned with.”

Uron said that while raising his right hand up. The light of the fire reflected off the silver gauntlet covering his hand, the gauntlet known as the God-killer. It had been a long time since Durima had seen that awful object in person. It sent chills up her spine, like the kind she had felt during the War whenever she saw the corpses of her fellow soldiers lying in the dirt.

The half-gods began moaning and growling and shouting in excitement, like Uron had just finished giving the most inspirational speech ever. They immediately resumed dancing, but whereas most of them had looked scared and confused before, now every half-god seemed to dance with mad delight, as if they were eager to begin their conquest of Martir right away.

And still the fire burned, a greenish hue now, bathing all of the half-gods and Uron in its sickening light. An image of a man who looked like Grinf appeared in it briefly before dissolving into nothingness.

Hollech pulled Gujak and Durima back behind the boulder. He looked them both in the eyes, his own orbs burning with an untold madness that seemed to radiate like the heat from the fire.

“Did you two hear all of that?” Hollech hissed, forcing Durima to listen hard in order to hear his words above the din of the dancing half-gods. “Uron is going to lead the half-gods to destroy World's End. The bastard.”

“Won't your fellow gods be able to stop them?” Gujak asked. His voice wasn't quite as high as it used to be, but it did tremble slightly. “I mean, the half-gods aren't as strong as you and your siblings, right?”

“Under ordinary circumstances, I agree, this would hardly be a threat worth getting upset over,” said Hollech. “But you told me that this Uron fellow has the God-killer. Do you think any of my siblings or Skimif will even try to fight the half-gods, knowing that Uron is leading them?”

“No,” said Gujak. “But—”

“So you see the problem,” said Hollech. “I have no idea how he intends to pass through the Void, seeing as it is sealed from this side, but given his confidence, I have no doubt he's already got a plan all figured out for that.”

“Then what do we do?” said Gujak. “I am sorry, Master Hollech, but it's not like we can stop him. He could kill you.”

“I am thinking,” said Hollech with a snort. “Unlike you, I have an actual brain up here. I will come up with a plan, no worries there.”

Durima frowned. “Master Hollech, forgive me for my skepticism, but are you sure you are in any position to come up with a plan?”

“Why would you say that?” said Hollech, glaring at Durima. “Are you implying I'm dumb?”

Durima held up her hands in a pacifying way. “No. I was just saying that the Void might have possibly affected your sanity enough to make any plan you come up with highly … er, questionable.”

Hollech's eyes bugged out of his head as he looked down on Durima. “Me? Come up with
questionable
plans? Katabans, I will have you know that I, the God of the Void, came up with a plan that, had it not been for a certain mortal prince who shall remain nameless, would have resulted in Skimif losing his unearned powers and the hierarchy of the gods being restored to its original form. Are
your
planning credentials on that level? I think not.”

Durima flinched under Hollech's angry eyes, but she didn't back down. “I did not mean to imply anything like that, Master Hollech. I was just saying that I think we should take the time to plan our next moves. Uron is a dangerously clever being, and if we don't plan correctly, we could all get killed.”

Hollech slammed one of his fists into the boulder, creating a small crater in it. Durima hoped that none of the half-gods had heard it, but all she heard was the mad and seemingly endless dancing and singing of the half-gods.

“I know what I am doing,” said Hollech. He pointed a shaking finger at Durima. “Don't question me. A katabans's place is to support the gods at every opportunity, not to question us. Do you understand?”

“I do, Master Hollech,” said Durima. “But—”

Hollech slapped Durima across the face. The blow made a clanging sound against her helmet as she staggered to the side, while Hollech breathed in and out hard as if he could barely control his anger.

“Again, do you understand that?” said Hollech.

This time, Durima nodded slowly, even though her head hurt like hell. “Yes.”

“Good,” said Hollech. “Now, gather round, because I have just come up with the most brilliant plan in the—”

He paused. He paused so abruptly that for a moment Durima was certain that she had somehow missed the rest of his sentence, but when she glanced at Gujak, she saw that he was waiting patiently for Hollech to continue just like she was.

Then she realized that the dancing and singing of the half-gods had ceased. The silence of the Void had returned, eerier and more unsettling than ever.

It didn't take Durima long to figure out what had happened. Although she did not want to, she turned to look around at their surroundings.

On every side, half-gods surrounded them. Due to the poor lighting, she could not see all of them, and of those she could see, she could not see much. Still, she saw enough of them to conclude that she, Gujak, and Hollech could not escape unless they fought through every last one of the half-gods in the area.

Standing before the half-gods was Uron himself. The low glow of Hollech's hand revealed a serpentine face twisted in a triumphant and eager smile.

“Durima, Gujak,” said Uron, as if addressing old friends. “Long time, no see.”

Chapter Fourteen

I
t was a day later that Darek, having fully recovered from his failed attempt to break the ceiling yesterday, found himself walking alone in a fairly obscure part of Rock Isle. Rock Isle was almost entirely dominated by the massive stone prison which housed all of the prisoners, but there was a small part of it that was still wild and free, that same rocky beach where Darek had turned up when the Ghostly God had teleported him here the day before.

As for why Darek was alone, that was easy. When he had gotten up this morning, Aorja had told him that he was supposed to go meet Jakuuth in the underground storage room where they had trained the day before. Darek fully intended to do that, but first, he told Aorja that he needed to use the bathroom and that he had to do it away from everyone else for the sake of his privacy.

Thankfully, Aorja had let him go and none of the other prisoners had followed him or asked him where he was going. Not that he expected them to; after all, when he emerged from the medical room, he had seen all of the prisoners training in the prison yard below, almost as if they had been training all night long.

Of course, Darek wasn't actually going to relieve himself. He had not eaten anything since early yesterday morning, shortly before his first attempt at breaking through the ceiling. His stomach was as empty as the catacombs under North Academy. His appetite was not helped in the least by the fact that he had tried to break through the ceiling twice in one day.

The real reason he was going out alone was so he could contact the Ghostly God. Last night, while he slept, Darek had had a dream in which the Ghostly God had demanded that he report his findings on Jakuuth to him right away.

How Darek would contact the Ghostly God, he did not know. All he knew was that the Ghostly God had shown him this beach in his dream, telling him it would be a good spot to meet without fear of being seen by the others. Of course, Darek would have to be quick, otherwise he ran the risk of raising the guards' suspicions.