Dusk Falling (Book 1) (49 page)

Agemeer cocked his lupine head. He had been left out of the equation. Not that he was surprised by it in the least. “You chose a diversionary tactic to lure Genlo in with knowledge that the cover of darkness would allow Kcrie to employ her Binding powers during the day where normally she could not.”

“Indeed.”

“Kcrie…” Serrtin said in a low voice. “Did you blackmail her as well into helping you? Like you did SkyRift?”

“Like I plan to do with you? Is that what you are truly asking?” Avarice replied, lids lowering. “
Mortal
.”

Serrtin’s posture straightened but she admirably did not rise to the bait. “Where is Kcrie?”

“I do not know nor do I care. She performed my bidding and then was released to her own devices, much as your dear Kiyomouri friend was. The Asrai however did not need coercion or to be reminded more than once of whom she was dealing with…” The young God trailed off in innuendo.

“So Kcrie is…?” Aya asked.

“Wherever she chose to take herself to.”

“And us finding her at that bazaar, was that orchestrated as well by you?”

“It was.”

“On the off-chance that we might pass by?”

“On the knowledge that you would pass by.”

The ex-Hunters exchanged glances not at all liking the thought of their paths being planned out from the very beginning or at least watched with the utmost interest.

“You possess omnipresence?”

“No.” The boy replied flatly, not offering up more of an explanation.

“But was there not something else you could have done rather than destroy a peaceful town like Barda? What if it never recovers from the damage wrought?” Aya pleaded with a shake of her head that sent her dark hair swishing before her face. “And those creatures! Have they a say in what you ask them to do?”

“The Astrala?” Avarice said, head coming up. “They exist only because I let them. It is my whim that gives them purpose therefore they have no ‘say’ in any task I set forth for them.”

“Have you asked them?” When the boy remained with his fixed incredulous expression, Aya continued doggedly. “They are
alive
, aren’t they? They are living breathing creatures, they must have feelings about what you make them do.”

“Feelings? They don’t
feel
anything.” Avarice said, growing to dislike the conversation.

“Are you so sure?” Serrtin asked, taking up the slack and knowing if her friend truly wished to debate with a God about morals, she would need all the help she could get. “A good General does not foolishly send in his
troops to their potential deaths without knowing whether or not the troops will obey his orders when he is not around.”

“They will do as I tell them.” A scowl marred his features.

“Yes, but only out of fear. If-”

“If you like them so much, feel such sorrow for their predicament, why don’t you ask one of them for yourself
howtheyfeel
?” Avarice responded, voice crackling with ire. With a quick imperious gesture over his shoulder, a portal like a blackened slit appeared. A moment passed then out stepped a single Astrala. It bent until its hands touched the ground, knees bent. Aya gulped, catching her breath. They others too were uncertain as to how to react.

“S-so how do you feel about being told where to go and what to do?” The mage asked the creature, not sure whether it could understand her or not.

The Astrala swayed on its two feet, it fingers dragging in the dirt as it looked intently from moving object to moving object. It did not seem to register that Aya was speaking directly to it.

“Well? Are you satisfied?” Avarice asked.

The Astrala began to emit a low clicking hollow sound, almost too low to be heard.

“They use that sound to keep together when they are out of their astral plane.” Avarice explained at the mortals’ inquisitive looks. Then his voice suddenly changed as if coming to realize something he hadn’t noticed before. “It is… lonely…” He looked at it sidelong as if surprised by his own revelation. “And afraid.”

It was silent except for the strange creature’s hooting noises. They were all regarding the Astrala with a mix of pity and repulsion.

The Godling, not fond of finding sentimental feelings for his tools, continued to frown sideways at the creature. “Be gone.” He banished the Astrala back to its home plane with another wave of his impatient hand.

Conversation started up once more in small pockets, none discussing the Astrala or its unpredicted effect on its summoner. They supped on what was left of their foodstuffs, supply growing short. Internal thoughts focused individually and together on just how much of their so-called free choices in the matters of a few months had not really been their decisions at all. Every path taken was looked at in a new light, questioned as if it had been orchestrated beforehand without their awareness. The location where the Hunters would first find the Jrahda-trethen- it had been too exact, too easy. Pinpointing a single being who wasn’t at all interested in being found, there was no
conceivable way the Niredes Votalo could have known it. If they had, they would have sent their own men. Jrellin would have assuredly been there. Instead, they came across the Verca who had been monitoring the actions of their rivals (an unforeseen complication that Avarice was not pleased to have come about).

To offset the chance that Genlo might get away, the Godling burnt the small fishing village of Barda, knowing the destruction would gain the Jrahda-trethen’s attention. The storm Avarice generated had been a necessary risk.

The water Fae of Iprandia Lake indeed had been a diversionary tactic as thought. Kcrienalpralopar could scry by water their locations and watch from afar all that transpired. She had aligned herself long ago to Avarice’s cause and never once wavered. Her nightly excursions were comprised of scrying for her patron God, a taxing undertaking for even one of the most powerful Asrai in Demaria.

Though it was learned that SkyRift had not been leading them exactly to the lair of a Divinari but instead the shadow of a young God out to make a name for himself, none of the team bared the dragon ill-will. Offhandedly, Aya mentioned wishing he was still part of their team.

“Why?” Avarice questioned.

“Because he was our friend.”

“And you wish him by your side merely for his presence?”

“Yes.”

“I can make him be so.”

“How? You no longer hold his Soul.” Aya responded, miraculously keeping the disdain from her voice. She found it appalling that her friend had been forced into leading them under false pretences by using something no one had the right to take as hostage.

“It was mine once. With a thought it could be so again.”

“You can’t!” The mage exclaimed.

“Can’t I?” Avarice said back, shale gray eyes darkening.

~ ~ ~

Eastward took them into the lands of Asab-Hevey, with every mile put in between the Black Swamp, a new worry would come to them. By now, without a doubt, the Circuit would have assigned Hunters to search for them. They were renegades, turncoats of a kind that were not tolerated. Every team or single Hunter had their own set methods for tracking down a Chase, the ones sent for them would surely be made aware of every ounce of detail involving Aya and Serrtin’s records. The Circuit would send the best available, a team that excelled in captures where the Chase knew the methods of the ones seeking them.

The Niredes Votalo would have recovered from the Verca’s surprise attack. Jrellin and Crosshilt would see to it the search started up anew before a new headquarters could even be found. They had been too close to give up. With their loss in numbers, they may strive to gain backers from Indelsis or places outside of the Provinces.

The Verca as well were not to be counted out. They had the most at stake- at least, that is how they would view it. If the Circuit took Genlo, he may be executed or given to their enemies. If the Votalo crossed the Jrahda-trethen’s path, they may kill him without giving him the chance to get away once more. The Verca too pondered what would occur should their enemies align themselves with a force that could shed light on their shadowed undertakings.

Through it all, Avarice was the only one to remain unperturbed. It was as if nothing mattered except the final task- slaying Vasul- and what would happen beforehand was of no concern to him. He remained mostly silent and to himself, offering insight only when he felt it prudent to do so. His counsel he kept mostly to himself. Though he was an immortal being, unused to the needs of a mortal body, he did not begrudge the team their need of rest and food. If they broke to make camp, he joined them without voicing an opinion. Avarice’s immortal patience was only tested when one questioned his actions or methods. As wise as he was, and perhaps old when compared to a mortals lifespan, he still had much to learn. Especially about the Realm in which he found himself in.

Avarice knew Lisaria from a scholar’s point of view but never had a need before to visit. He knew how the continents had formed, the names to which the mortals gave to different places, the leaders of nations. He knew physiology; the why’s and need’s that drove the peoples but the practical use of such was lost on him. The Godling knew a mortal being must eat daily to keep the body supplied with energy to move whereas he in his true form could go for decades without succumbing should he choose to. He knew his construct was mortal and therefore limited to a routine that often slipped his far-seeking mind but the weakness began to grate on him after several days.

The first bout of dizziness had him realigning his own energies within the construct, Avarice coming to believe that he had not meshed as wholly as he had thought. The second was accompanied by a plaintive growl that had him coming to a standstill. When those you thought of as underlings needed to remind you to eat, a God could begin to see a whole nest of new problems that could arise.

They chose to skirt Mag’har on its northern coast and on finding a mountain range in their path to Gevra-Deln, the team was pleased to find signs of a township within hiking distance. Food supplies were becoming worrisome and were they to travel by way of the mountains, seeking security in less visibility, they were surely to run out before reaching the other side.

A wagon path running north to south before the range led them to a rustic town smaller than they would have liked but welcome nonetheless. Aya suggested she go alone to procure the supplies but ended up with a surprising escort who held an equally-surprising reason: no one should be allowed off alone. Though Genlo himself often walked separate of the team, with his senses, he knew exactly where they were. He did not voice his thoughts about Aya’s ability to do the same though she was showing a marked improvement. He also did not state a lone mages chances if the Verca or Niredes Votalo happened to have spies posted this far out. However it was more likely a lone woman were to befall brigands or hoodlums in a place such as this.

~ ~ ~

Xiethes glared balefully at the dusty stone ground before him without raising his head from where he knelt on one knee. He was only vaguely aware of the priests’ and Serethar’s voices nearby, lost as he was in thoughts of his own ambitions. The pain in his body was wholly gone, whipped from concern by a draught a Verca healer had given him. The fact that he had not been outright healed of his injuries was not lost on him.

But then, he did not need such from
humans
. Xiethes sneered, accepting only Serethar as worthy enough of the race for him to abide. Youkai such as Xiethes only respected power.

Serethar had yet to acknowledge the demonic with more than a cool glance so Xiethes waited with stiffening muscles. Blood red eyes creeping up at the inclusion of a fifth person to the gathering, he beheld a Dark
Elf as lovely and timeless as no one had the right to be- not that Xiethes had much use for beauty. She held herself with a regal natural grace, stood straight with shoulders back and chin held high. Full crimson-hued lips were upturned at the edges and her amber eyes were lidded lending her the air of a sated feline predator. Her limbs were rounded and firm, her proportions more generous then her Elven cousins the Yierhna. Skin the color of storm clouds and hair the purest of whites, Ivariljhle possessed great beauty but her heart was blackened and vile. Xiethes respected her for that but despised her nonetheless and not simply because she was Elven in blood.

Ivariljhle had birthed the half-blooded bastard who was set for an honor that should have been his. The near-endless power, the glory, the strength he would wield (both his own and those he commanded)-
it should have been bestowed on him
! He was no half-breed product of an unholy coupling. He possessed the presence of mind, the stark desire, to take the world by its pale thin neck and choke it to its knees. He could do it. And he wanted nothing more than to prove it by killing the one who he perceived was standing in his way.

Cracking open his center eye, he coaxed a slim wire to twine its way down his right arm till it encircled his palm in perfectly-laid silver. He made a fist and reveled in the pain where the flexed muscle could not expand. The silver wire held tight and the flesh began to split and bleed.

He would choke
him
to his knees. A droplet of blood pattered to the ground.

The sound was loud even to his ears. The priests and Serethar had ceased talking. When Xiethes looked up, the priests were moving off not without sending his way a distasteful glance. He gave them a toothy smirk, enticing another droplet to fall to the floor.

Serethar was regarding him with a thoughtful expression as if he were considering something he had not before. He rubbed his clean-shaven jaw with a knuckle then turned his attention back to the Dark Elf.

Ivariljhle flashed the High Priest one of her most radiant and seductive smiles, inclining her head so that her long pale hair swept across her breasts. The dress she wore covered little and hid even less. The neckline plunged past her navel and was cut up both sides nearly to the hip. The wine red color flattered her complexion and lit the diamonds around her throat and wrists in blood.