Night Angel Complete Trilogy Part 139

The currents of prophecy were rising at the pressure of seventy thousand futures that Wanhope held in his hands. On his choices, tens of thousands would live and die. He looked at the army opposing him and saw ten thousand ravens swirling over them, waiting to feed. He blinked, and the ravens were gone, then blinked again, and they were back. But they weren't ravens. Nor did they only swirl over the wild men.

Dorian turned, eyes wide. Wispy, dark figures swarmed over his entire army, clotted the air above his men, darting this way and that. Here six perched on a single man, their claws sunk deep into his flesh. There only a single dark figure spun around another warrior, stabbing in one place and then another, as if trying his defenses. But those were the exception. Almost every man in Dorian's army had at least one figure clinging to him. And there were ranks among them; some were far more terrible. Dorian looked at General Naga nearby. A trio of the monsters clung to the man, two perched on his shoulders, one licking ephemeral blood from the general's fingers.

This close, Dorian could see their features. One had a cancer that swelled one eye grotesquely. Open, suppurating ulcers dotted their golden-skinned faces, dribbling black blood onto robes so black with that blood that Dorian could barely tell that they had once been white. It was those shredded robes, dripping ephemeral blood that made them all look like ravens. The cancered one dipped his claws into General Naga's skull and drew them out again and licked its claws greedily. But they weren't claws, they were finger bones, denuded of their golden flesh. It turned its good eye to Dorian. "What is he looking at?" it asked.

The other c.o.c.ked its head and it met Dorian's gaze. "Us," it hissed in wonder.

"Odniar, ruy'eo getnirfhign em. Dirlom?" Dorian heard the voice. It was Jenine, but he couldn't understand what she was saying. Why couldn't he understand her, but he could understand these things? What were they, anyway?

He looked back to the army across the plain. He saw the krul, but this time, he saw through their flesh. Each of them held one of these creatures. My G.o.d, these are the Strangers. My G.o.d, these are the Strangers. Dorian saw them, and he understood. The Strangers carried h.e.l.l with them wherever they went. They fed on human suffering not because it sustained them, but because it was a distraction from their own suffering; it was entertainment. Wearing flesh was no escape. Rather it was simply the best distraction of all, a chance to feel, if only for a time, to experience the pleasures of food and drink, if only in a muted way, and to kill. That was the pinnacle, to take away that which men had and which they had no more. Dorian saw them, and he understood. The Strangers carried h.e.l.l with them wherever they went. They fed on human suffering not because it sustained them, but because it was a distraction from their own suffering; it was entertainment. Wearing flesh was no escape. Rather it was simply the best distraction of all, a chance to feel, if only for a time, to experience the pleasures of food and drink, if only in a muted way, and to kill. That was the pinnacle, to take away that which men had and which they had no more.

"Odniar!" the voice was in his ear. Dorian turned and for a moment, he could see with his natural vision once more. Every one of his men was staring at him, fearful. Then his vision bifurcated and he could see fear rise like a fragrance from his men-to the delight of the swirling Strangers. He felt the fingers on his shoulders, bony fingers, but before he could turn to face what he knew must cling even to him, he felt natural fingers grab his bicep and squeeze hard.

Jenine swam into his vision, which was natural once more, then it split. She was pregnant, right now, but not with twins. A Stranger spun in tight circles around her, but hadn't yet found a place to rest. It wanted-by the G.o.d, it wanted their baby!

Dorian cried out and saw a fresh wave of fear rise from his men. A mob of the Strangers, now aware of his awareness of them, had congregated around him. They were walling him in.

"ODNIAR! Rodnia! Adimmt! Dornia. Dorian!" Jenine was whispering fiercely in his ear, her body pressed against him, turning him away from his men. He blinked, and saw only ground, and soldiers, and krul, and his wife. She'd called him back from madness, maybe using the thing which best anch.o.r.ed him to reality: his own name.

"I'm back," he said. "I'm here. Thank you." He shook himself, willed himself not to see beyond the veil again. He looked over his shoulder, nodded to General Naga to let the frightened man see that Dorian was well, and then strode forward.

Beneath the cloak, Dorian-Wanhope-had decided to go bare-chested. A G.o.d felt not the cold. He strode forward, decisive to cover for his earlier hesitation, great knots of vir rising in his skin. He gestured and a young man was brought forward. Dammit, Wanhope hadn't wanted Jenine to see this. But it was too late, and there was no way she would go where she couldn't see him after he'd almost doomed them all by standing around looking lost. A G.o.d felt not the cold. He strode forward, decisive to cover for his earlier hesitation, great knots of vir rising in his skin. He gestured and a young man was brought forward. Dammit, Wanhope hadn't wanted Jenine to see this. But it was too late, and there was no way she would go where she couldn't see him after he'd almost doomed them all by standing around looking lost.

The young man's name was Udrik Ursuul. All of the aethelings in Khaliras had been killed, but seventeen who'd already left for their Harrowings still lived. Udrik had impregnated the wrong Modaini oligarch's daughter and had to flee, thus failing his uurdthan. He'd come home to beg mercy.

"Do you know, Udrik, if you raise thirteen legions of krul, you can command them yourself, but if you raise just one more, you have to master an arcanghul?"

"A what?" Udrik's brows were still heavily kohled, menacing despite his fright.

"It's a creature that these wild men didn't dare try to master," Wanhope said. "Tell me, brother, is it better for one man to die, or the whole people?"

Udrik's eyes widened, and then widened again as Wanhope cut his throat with the obsidian knife. He dropped to his knees, throat spurting, then tumbled awkwardly on his back. Dorian felt-or imagined-the jubilation of a thousand Strangers. He blinked. Control, Dorian. Control it. Control, Dorian. Control it. He didn't dare to watch what this next part looked like from that other reality. He didn't dare to watch what this next part looked like from that other reality.

Wanhope extended his arms and his wings toward the host before him. "Arcanghulus! Come! Be known to me!" The weaves spun out from him easily as if the vir itself was helping him, as if he'd done this a thousand times. Green lightning danced around him. A train of blue fire looped around him. Then the ground began to boil around Udrik's corpse. Clumps of dirt burst and stuck to the body. Flares danced over Udrik and the corpse's muscles tore, skin ripped. Come! Be known to me!" The weaves spun out from him easily as if the vir itself was helping him, as if he'd done this a thousand times. Green lightning danced around him. A train of blue fire looped around him. Then the ground began to boil around Udrik's corpse. Clumps of dirt burst and stuck to the body. Flares danced over Udrik and the corpse's muscles tore, skin ripped.

The shamans saw their mistake. They hadn't dared raise an arcanghulus, and Dorian had. An aurochs-horn bugle called the wild men to charge. But only half did.

A bolt of lightning cracked the earth before Wanhope, blinding him, and thunder ripped over him and over both armies, dropping men to the ground on both sides.

When Wanhope's vision returned, the wild men's charge had faltered and broken. There was a man standing where Udrik had been and every eye was on him. He was easily seven feet tall, with hair of molten gold falling to the nape of his neck. Though his skin was the color of polished silver, it wasn't shiny or artificial. His eyes were an arresting emerald of a shade barely within human possibility. Perhaps one man in a million had such eyes. Perhaps mimicking Wanhope, he too was bare-chested, though his body was lean and angular. He was the most beautiful man Wanhope had ever seen. Perhaps mimicking Wanhope, he too was bare-chested, though his body was lean and angular. He was the most beautiful man Wanhope had ever seen.

The arcanghulus laughed, and even his laughter was beautiful. "We're Strangers, G.o.dking, not monsters."

"What is your name?" Wanhope asked.

"I am Ba'elzebaen, the Lord of Serpents."

"Awfully cold in the Freeze for a snake."

"I'm not in the Freeze any more, am I?"

"I would have you serve me, Ba'elzebaen," Wanhope said. He desperately wanted to look at Ba'elzebaen as he was, but he didn't dare. If he lost himself to madness now, Ba'elzebaen might take Dorian's body instead of Udrik's.

The Stranger chuckled. "And I would have the sun and moon bow down to me."

"But one of these things will happen."

Ba'elzebaen laughed as if at a precocious child. "I am stronger than you."

"It is only the will and the call that matters. I have called you, and my will is implacable." The stunning green eyes locked onto his, and Dorian had only to think of how Jenine would be taken if he didn't compel this snake. He felt the arcanghulus's will rise against him, higher and higher. Ba'elzebaen was ever so much more than this body before Dorian. He was immortal, omnipotent, there was nothing Dorian could do to stop him. It was hopeless. He should bow and beg for mercy.

Dorian knew that this was the arcanghulus's attack, and he held onto what he knew. The arcanghulus would obey, would bow, would serve. I am G.o.dking. I am implacable. I will destroy those who challenge me. I will not serve. I am a G.o.d. I am G.o.dking. I am implacable. I will destroy those who challenge me. I will not serve. I am a G.o.d.

Ba'elzebaen relaxed and the attacks stopped. "Very well, G.o.dking, I will serve you."

"Where is my half-brother Moburu?"

"He attempted to take over the ten tribes. He failed. Only one tribe joined him, but he did take enough bones to raise a legion of krul. He's heading for Black Barrow." A legion was about two thousand krul. It wasn't good, but it was far better than facing Moburu at the head of this army. "But it isn't Moburu you have to worry about."

"Neph," Dorian said, his suspicions confirmed.

"Yes. Neph is the one who taught the wild men to raise krul. All this was nothing more than a diversion to keep any Ursuul away from Black Barrow."

"What's he trying?"

"To make himself G.o.dking, whether by raising a t.i.tan or by giving Khali flesh."

Surely Neph Dada didn't mean to raise Khali herself. It would be madness. If what Dorian had seen of the Strangers' nature was true, giving their leader flesh would be inviting the devastation of all Midcyru. The good news was that no one since Roygaris Ursuul had been powerful enough to raise Khali. A t.i.tan, on the other hand, was far more probable, and plenty frightening enough. Where in the Strangers' hierarchy did a t.i.tan fall? Two ranks above Ba'elzebaen? Three? By the G.o.d.

But all that was a conversation for another time. "To claim the wild men's krul, we must strike down the shaman who controls them, correct?" Wanhope asked. "Who is it?"

Ba'elzebaen pointed to a wild man covered completely in woad tattoos. The man had dozens of shields surrounding him, both his own, and other magi's, but as Ba'elzebaen gestured, the shields simply melted away. Wanhope threw a single green fiery missile at the man. The mage watched it contemptuously, secure in his shields-and it burned a hole in his chest. He died with a shocked look on his face.

Ba'elzebaen smiled and Dorian noticed something strange in how the skin crinkled at the corners of his eyes: the arcanghul's skin was made of thousands of tiny scales. "Master," Ba'elzebaen said, "what would you have the Fallen do?"

"Kill the wild men. No feeding until nightfall, and then load the bones onto the wagons. We may need them to make more krul at Black Barrow."

"As you desire." Ba'elzebaen bowed. By the time he straightened, panicked cries were already rising from the wild men's army as the krul in their own ranks turned on them.

74

Spring is upon us," Elene said.

Vi joined her on the balcony, still sweating from her exertions with the hundreds of magae practicing in the yard below. Kylar was outside the city, training with his master again, and Elene had asked to meet. Vi tried to swallow away the lump in her throat as Elene turned and smiled at her.

"You've been avoiding me," Elene said.

Vi wanted to say that she'd been busy. She had. The Chattel were gathering; women were joining Vi's Shield Sisters every day; messages had to be pa.s.sed secretly to the Speaker; and always tactics and magic had to be practiced. But all those weren't why she hadn't met with Elene. The past two months had seen them grow strangely closer, but the coming of spring was a naked sword.

"I need your advice, Vi. You know how Kylar's gift works, and you also know how his mind works. I'm afraid he'll try to do something stupid to save me, if..." She laid a hand on her stomach.

"If what?" Vi asked. Then it hit her. "Ah s.h.i.t, you're pregnant!"

Elene blushed, and said quietly. "A Healer confirmed it for me this morning. I'm one month along. Haven't even had a touch of morning sickness. Lucky, I guess."

Lucky. That was one way to put it. If Kylar found out.... Actually, Vi had no idea what he'd do, but stupid heroism was likely. Unfortunately, she had no idea how stupid heroism would show itself.

"It complicates things," Elene said. Vi could see from her face that she didn't mean only for Kylar.

"I can make you tansy tea," Vi said.

Elene was incredulous. "If I wanted it to die, I'd wait a month! G.o.d, that's the most stupidly callous thing anyone's ever said to me."

Vi stood transfixed. I'm stupid and callous. This is why you never let anyone in. If you do, they s.h.i.t all over you. I'm stupid and callous. This is why you never let anyone in. If you do, they s.h.i.t all over you.

Elene closed her eyes and when she opened them, the anger was gone. "I'm sorry. I'm feeling really emotional and upset, but that doesn't make it right to take it out on you. You're not stupid. I'm sorry."

"But I am callous."

Elene paused. "You've been through h.e.l.l, Vi. You are callous, but less and less every day, and I'm sorry I said that. Can you forgive me?"

The thing about Elene that made her a good friend and a pain in the a.s.s was that she didn't lie, not even when apologizing. If she were less tender-hearted, the lack of guile would be infuriating. Hu Gibbet had "always told the truth" and used it to hammer everyone. Elene's gentleness made it hard to stay mad. "Yes," Vi said. "What do you need?"

Elene smiled slowly and it was like the sun breaking through dark clouds. When she smiled unself-consciously, she was beatific. It wasn't a courtesan's beauty-though the G.o.ds and Vi knew that Elene had spent a lot of time in the last two months exploring the courtesan's skills and pleasures-yet it was feminine and utterly alluring. When Elene felt joy, it was always joy shared. Her navete in expecting the best from others somehow drew out the best in them. "I'm glad you're my friend, Vi. I've been meaning to have this talk with you for a while." drew out the best in them. "I'm glad you're my friend, Vi. I've been meaning to have this talk with you for a while."

She scowled, uncertain how to begin. Vi felt the lump rise again in her throat, but there was no leaving, no escape.

"I'm going to die," Elene said. "I'm scared, especially with this." She put her hand on her stomach protectively. "I've complained to the G.o.d a lot about it, to tell you the truth. I know you think I'm either totally holy or totally deluded, but I've asked G.o.d every way I know how to let me live without it disrupting His plan. I want to live, and I want Kylar to live, and I want our baby to live, and I want Kylar to do all the big things G.o.d created him to do."

"And what's your G.o.d say?" Vi asked. The way Elene related to her G.o.d wasn't at all how Vi had related to Nysos, but whether or not He was real, He was real in Elene's mind, and you don't mock the beliefs of someone so near death.

"He says He's with me."

"That's helpful," Vi said.

"Yes," Elene said, missing or deciding to miss the sarcasm. "Kylar thinks... Kylar fears that he's a man born to be forever alone. He thinks the last couple of months has been him cheating fate. He's not a man born to be alone, Vi, but some lies take a long time to heal. I don't have time. When I'm gone, I want you to take care of Kylar. In every way. He is the most precious thing in all this world to me, and I trust you with him. He'll need you. You'll know when he's ready, and when you are."

Vi had thought of it, of course. As she sat in her room with the newlyweds canoodling on the other side of a not-thick-enough wall, she'd thought of it a hundred times: this torture wouldn't last forever; Elene would die come spring. Worse, she'd thought that once Elene was dead, she might have Kylar herself.

"I've been selfish," Elene said, "I knew we only had a couple of months, so I've been selfish for myself and for Kylar. I know you've paid the price for that. I've seen your face some of the mornings after-" Elene cleared her throat, "after Kylar and I stayed up late. I know you love him, Vi, and I can't imagine how I would have felt if our places were reversed. If I were in your place, I'd look forward to... this ending. It's all right."

"It's not all right to wish your friend was dead," Vi said stiffly. Her eyes felt hot.

"For that and anything else you may have thought or done, I forgive you, Vi. Everything really is going to be all right. G.o.d has a purpose in this, even if we don't see it."

"You're leaving," Vi said.

"Yes."

"And you haven't told him."

"I've tried. Kylar's not ready to hear it. Vi, help him know that loving again is no betrayal. He's immortal, and living forever without love is h.e.l.l."

"When are you leaving?" Vi asked.

"Now."

"Where?"

"King Gyre's marching into Khalidor in a few weeks. There are women in his army. I'll join them. At least that's my plan. G.o.d might have something different for me."

"Why join them?"

"To force Kylar to be there. He's sworn he wouldn't leave me again for Logan, but that's where he needs to be. If nothing else, I'll die fighting for something."

"You're not a warrior, Elene."

"No. But I am a fighter."

"Do you have any idea what Kylar will do when he finds out?" Vi said.

"I've left a letter for him on the table telling him that I'm staying at the Chantry overnight. I hope I lie better in writing than in person because I'll need the head start. But here's another letter that tells the truth." She paused. "Well, not the whole truth. I didn't tell him I'm pregnant. He's going to hurt enough. Please make sure he gets it." She handed the note to Vi.

"You're putting me in the middle of this?"

"He'd feel your complicity through your bond. You might want to stay at the Chantry for a couple days."

Elene hugged her. At first awkwardly and then fiercely, Vi hugged her back. Her eyes teared up faster than she could blink away, and through her bond, she felt Kylar's sudden alarm from a mile away. It wasn't in words, but she could feel his wonder: are you are you crying crying?! She sent a wave of rea.s.surance to him, which left him even more befuddled. She sent a wave of rea.s.surance to him, which left him even more befuddled.

"I don't want you to go," Vi said.

Elene pulled back and searched Vi's eyes. "You mean that. I can tell. Even with how hard this has been, you mean it."

"I've never had a friend," Vi said. "I don't want to lose you."

"You're a better woman than you know, Vi. G.o.d bless you."