EPIC: Fourteen Books of Fantasy (295 page)

They stared into each other’s eyes for some time before Jade cleared her throat and looked away. “Follow me,” she said, wearing a lopsided smile. “We’re not done yet, we have work to do.”
 

The two walked out of the black brick hut and onto a light dirt walkway sprinkled with gravel here and there. Most of the compact buildings looked very much the same: almost perfect squares with bamboo doors and roofs.
 

Crytons walked the dirt paths that crisscrossed between the buildings. They were large folk, covered with gold and silver jewelry. Some of the men were close to seven feet tall. Although each face was slightly different, the one constant feature was those bright yellow eyes. Although they stared as if Jade and Eric were on fire, they showed no signs of panic or distress. Word had clearly gotten out that humans roamed the village.
 

“They must have used a larger dose on you or something,” Jade sneered as they trudged on. “Jacob and I have been up for some time. They didn’t mistreat us or anything. When we woke up, they simply untied us and started asking questions. I think that’s mostly because they don’t fear us. The high priestess allowed me to explain what brought us here in the first place. The funny thing was she sort of already knew. There are crytons here that have abilities similar to those of Berkeni’s. She even knew about the puppeteers! We know nothing of their world, yet they have kept a close watch on ours for some time.”
 

“Is that where we’re going right now? To see this high priestess?” Eric asked, trying his best to take all this in.
 

“Well, yes, but you’ve already met her.”
 

“That woman I saw when I first woke up. Of course,” he said, watching the dark-skinned people staring a hole through him as they marched along. Almost all had little to no hair, but it was still plenty easy to tell the women from the men. They all seemed to be wearing some sort of jewelry. Nose and earrings seemed to be standard amongst everyone, male or female. Some even had light chains flowing from their nose to pierced parts of their faces, but not in the amount worn by that tall woman, who had been completely covered.
 

“How did you learn to speak their language?” Eric asked suddenly, not taking his eyes from the path, distracted by the many intense stares.
 

“I speak several languages,” Jade shrugged, as if the question seemed moot to her. “But I don’t speak any fluently, just enough to get by and communicate. Keep in mind, crytons and humans used to be allies. Their language has been well documented for many years. But in this case, it turns out the high priestess speaks Common far better than I speak Cryton.”
 

Children were now starting to show themselves, peeking from doorways, smiling and waving, all the while whistling for their siblings to come look.
 

Eric smiled and waved back as a simple truth occurred to him. Blind fear and prejudice was always developed later in life, whereas children were all the same no matter their race or culture. When they saw someone who looked different than they, it triggered feelings of curiosity, not fear or distrust. They would learn to hate later in life, when they were shown to do so. He shook his head at the sad reality.
 

Eric had to rub his eyes several times as they turned the corner. A building made of the same black stone as the others lay in their path, but it was much larger. Pearl-white steps led up to the dark wooden door, which really stood out against the rest of the large, dark building. The roof was made of white tile instead of the bamboo used on the others.
 

They marched up the handful of stone steps. Jade opened the door and led the way in.
 

The inside was nothing like the room Eric had been in earlier. Ornate oil paintings hung about the spacious white-walled room. Scenes of odd rituals being performed seemed to be the theme for most of these paintings. One such piece showed several crytons joining hands around a woman with long white hair. Her own hands were stretched to the sky, as if she was performing some sort of magic, or possibly even praying. But what really stood out were the frames that held these paintings: They were all made of polished white bone. As to who or what supplied the bone, Eric had no intention of asking.
 

In fact, almost every item in the room appeared to be made of bone, including the table and four chairs that surrounded it. The crytons had somehow fused the bones together to form some rather solid-looking furniture. Even the clock on a wooden mantle against the wall was encased in a bone shell, revealing the glass face surrounded with symbols that looked like gibberish to Eric.
 

The aromas of cooking food filled the air as they entered the second room.
 

The high priestess remained seated at a large table made entirely of the same white polished bone.

 
Jacob appeared a little too comfortable as he leaned back in his skeletal throne, rubbing his fingers across the armrest. Both he and the priestess smiled as the two others entered. “It’s about time you woke up,” said Jacob arrogantly as he leaned back even farther. “I was thinking we would have to start without you.”
 

The tall woman stood and flourished into a perfect, eloquent bow. “I am Shantisss Sssondere, High Priestess of the crytonssss,” she said as she raised her yellow eyes with purpose towards Eric. “Or the undead, as sssome of your kind refer to ussss.”
 

Eric squirmed a bit at that last comment but held her gaze nonetheless.

“Pleassse have a ssseat, both of you,” she said, gesturing gracefully to the open seats. She clapped her hands twice and a handful of servers entered the room, each holding covered silver trays which they began to place around the table.
 

Eric had no idea how Jacob could be so relaxed right now, and he found himself wishing some of that would rub off on him. Sure, they knew what they’d been looking for, that the crytons existed, and even what they looked like. But now that he was sitting at the table with the high priestess, the whole thing seemed so surreal.
How does he do it
?
 

The servers began uncovering the trays, revealing different types of meats and stews along with brightly colored vegetables. Shiny, silver goblets with tiny, colored jewels encrusted around the rims were set in front of each person.
 

“Now then, Eric Aethello,” Shantis said as she raised the water cup to her lips. “Try to help me underssstand why I’m to believe
you
are the Gate Keeper.”
 

Eric’s blood chilled at the directness of her question.
 

“What I’m sssaying is, over the last ten years we have had sssseven humans sssstumble across our private existence and claim to be the Gate Keeper. Sssseven times we have performed the ancient ritual to see if his claims were true.” She took a long gulp of water as the servants filled everyone’s plates with healthy portions. She was so nonchalant about the subject, it seemed as if she were talking about the weather.
 

“Wait a minute,” said Jade, cutting off Eric before he could voice his obvious concern. “Seven people have already made the same claim? What happened to those seven?”
 

“Why, they died, of course,” Shantis stated, sounding almost bored. “Only the Gate Keeper could actually sssssurvive the trials. They obviously...were not him.”
 

The sudden reality smacked Eric right in the face. This is why they weren’t that spooked by humans walking the streets. They had seen them several times before. They were perfectly aware of the prophecies; this much was true, but they had been through this enough times already to have more than enough suspicion of yet another human making the same claim. Their doubts had sprung from several counterfeits showing up before he did.
 

“Sssso I ask you again, Eric Aethello, why am I to believe
you
are the one?” A spark began to burn inside him, which only seemed to gain heat with every passing second. He stood up as Jacob slid his chair back at the same time. Jacob was starting to recognize that look and wanted to be ready in case things escalated.
 

“I can’t think of a single reason, Priestess,” Eric said in a soft, dangerous growl. “Because I sure wasn’t him when I was blacksmithing in my hometown of Bryer, nor when I watched people I had known my entire life die before my very eyes. I wasn’t him when the only father I had ever known told me I wasn’t really his son as he slammed the door in my face.”
 

The tiny spark became a roaring forest fire as it burned deep within his chest. The fire flared in his eyes as his deep voice boomed through the chamber. “I wasn’t him when the only life I had ever known was stolen from me. I denied it every step of the way!” Then his voice softened back into a deadly hiss. He took three steps towards her. “Make no mistake, Shantis Sondere, High Priestess of the crytons. I would take your life where you stand for it
not
to be true.”
 

Shantis’s yellow eyes were the size of moons. She drew herself back with every word. “I ssssee,” she said, seeming very interested for the first time. “It’s been years sssssince I’ve ssssaid this, but...I look forward to tomorrow.” Just like that, her queenly demeanor seemed to return. She sat back down in her chair of bone. Her powerful presence was unmistakable. She made the high-backed chair seem like a throne. “Enjoy your meal,” she said with a wicked smile.
 

They ate in silence before being shown to their rooms. Each one was given a separate room filled with the same white bone furniture, which included the bed frames. At least the mattresses were not made of bone.
 

Eric sat at the edge of his bed as his mind swirled with doubts. If all the others had died during this ritual, what’s to say his fate would be any different? Did he even want to survive? Could death really be worse than having the fate of the world pressed into your hands? It didn’t seem possible.
 

A light knock temporarily pulled him from his dark thoughts, but as he stood to get the door, it slowly opened long before he got there.
 

A set of light blue eyes peeked through the partially open door. “May I come in? I want to talk to you,” Jade said in a strangely uncertain voice. He watched her gently close the door behind her, as if she were trying not to wake him. She walked across the room, stopping only when her face was inches from his. She actually looked a bit frightened. “I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow,” she said in a shaky voice, “but I need you to know something.”
 

Her light blue gaze lowered as she smoothed both hands across his wide chest before sliding them down to his wrists. “I’ve cherished every second we’ve spent together. No matter what happens, I have no regrets of anything.” She looked up at him once again. Her crystal-blue eyes locked onto his dark orbs. “The long road that led me to you was worth every…if I hadn’t…I never would have—I wouldn’t have met...”
 

She began to tremble like a leaf as her broken words, no more than a reflection of her own heart, left her unable to find words to justify the feelings that had been bottled up for so long.
 

Eric pulled her close as she gasped for air. He softly kissed her neck as he slowly pulled the string around her neck, watching her black cloak fall to the floor. He kissed her so hard it hurt, the ran his hands across her back, feeling the deep scars left by a hungry whip whose appetite seemed to never be filled.
 

She jerked back suddenly with a horrified expression, feeling ashamed and vulnerable. She reached to the floor to grab her clothes.
 

Eric grabbed her by the shoulders roughly, standing her upright so they were face to face once more. He purposely ran his hands across the ridges once again as he stared into her eyes. “These belong to a life that has nothing to do with you now. I promise no one will ever hurt you again,” he whispered in her ear.
 

The assassin had killed foes that would have taken the heart from most warriors, beaten impossible odds in battle as well as her personal life. Yet here she was, completely helpless, powerless as she melted into his arms. She prayed he would never let her go.

Dragot paced in circles impatiently as he waited for the completion of the gates. Addel had worked through the night as she had been instructed. Dragot whirled his head around when she peeked her head from his private chamber. “Are you finished? Is it done?” he roared in what seemed close to panic.
 

She looked at him wearily with heavy eyelids. “Yes, they are done. One leads to—”
 

He threw her aside with the back of his hand and stormed into the chamber. There before him were two large shiny mirrors embedded on opposite walls. One displayed an image of the cryton village in the dead forest, while the other showed the city of Taron in all its glory. His roar of victory could be heard echoing off the walls and rattling through the castle.