The Sin War Box Set: Birthright, Scales of the Serpent, and The Veiled Prophet (26 page)

Next to him, his mount continued to grow more and more anxious. The horse began struggling with him. Uldyssian could barely hold on to the reins.

In contrast, though, Lylia’s steed stood still.
Too
still for one so very familiar with animals. It was almost as if the black horse was mesmerized…

His frantic mind raced for answers. Maybe this was not Lylia at all! Maybe she was still in bed and this demon had assumed her role. Yes, that could very well be it, he supposed.

Drawing his sword, he growled, “Keep away from me, demon! I’ve slain others of your kind! You’ll not fool me with that voice!”

The figure looked perplexed. “Uldyssian, it
is
Lylia! Remember our first meeting? How you found me admiring the horses? Remember how I insisted on coming to you when you were unjustly locked away? Have you forgotten everything?”

She went on to name a half-dozen more incidents with enough detail to drain away his hope that this was not her. In doing so, she might have thought that she would pull him back to her, but all Lylia actually succeeded in doing was reinforcing the fact that Uldyssian had been cavorting with something monstrous.

Yet, despite that growing horror, the farmer could not keep his eyes off of Lylia. There was an unnatural seductiveness to her, so much so that his body desired to crush itself against hers despite what his mind knew. Her every movement enticed, as if, as she pleaded innocence, she also sought to use her wiles to ensnare him.

Shuddering, Uldyssian forced himself to look away. As he did, he heard a sharp, furious hiss.

“Look at me, Uldyssian!” Lylia abruptly cooed. “Look at what you have had and what you can have again…and again…and again…”

Something told him that if he looked, it would be his undoing. His will was only mortal, whereas that with which he had lain could never be called such.

“Get away from me, whatever you are!” he demanded, still looking slightly to the side. “Leave or…or I’ll do with you as I did the other demons!”

He expected anger or perhaps fear, as she would surely recall how he had disposed of the foul creatures sent forth by Malic—

Malic…suddenly
that,
too, made more sense. Uldyssian had been stunned by the swift ending to the cunning cleric, but that Lylia was more than she seemed explained much. Poor Malic had not known exactly what it was he had faced. Perhaps he had suspected, but even that would not have been enough. The irony might have made Uldyssian smile if not for his own circumstances.

A strange sound came from Lylia’s direction. Not a hiss, not a snarl…but
laughter
that tore at his soul.

“Poor little Uldyssian! My sweet darling! So naive, so believing! You were ever too trusting when it came to what I said…”

That almost made him face her, which was perhaps as she wanted it. “What do you mean?”

“Have you not wondered at how quickly your vaunted abilities have blossomed? Have you not wondered why all others—save your loving Lylia—have so far shown so little progress?”

He had, and the implications in her tone set the hair on his neck stiffening.

“Yes, he sees the truth
now,
or at least a hint of it. Yes, dear, sweet Uldyssian…I have guided you every step of the way! What you do, you do in great part because of
me,
not yourself!
I
it was who brought forth the storm, who guided the lightning, who caused most of your desire to become reality—”

And more than that, he knew suddenly. “And who slaughtered one missionary, then slew another with a knife of mine!”

This caused her to giggle, a sound once musical to the human but now filling him with loathing. “The stage had to be set for you, my love! And what were they,
anyway,
but pawns of a treacherous lover and a fool of a
brother?”

Uldyssian tried to digest the last. If she was to be believed, both the Primus and the Prophet were known to her very well. One was of her blood—assuming that such flowed through her—while the other had assumed the same role as Uldyssian, but before him. The knowledge only made Uldyssian’s consternation grow. His entire existence was nothing but delusion. He was not this powerful force, but rather a puppet. Her puppet.

But…a small part of him rebelled at that thought, reminding Uldyssian that this encounter was surely not as she planned matters. She had spat the name of Lucion out before she could help herself. Yet, if Uldyssian was only a weak pawn, why take this action? Why had Lucion just not destroyed him? Uldyssian could only assume that he was either of some value to the Primus or that Lucion could not do away with him. At the moment, Uldyssian doubted the latter, but the former still made some sense, based more than once on Malic’s words.

And if it did, it had to be because there was
something
to the power growing within the farmer. Why else would Lylia—if that was what this demoness was called—have chosen him in the first place?

“I told you before,” he finally said, trying to sound confident and defiant. “Leave now or else!”

Again, she giggled. “Ah, my darling Uldyssian, how I have come to adore your little stubborn streak! I would say it was from my side, but it could also be from his, they so arrogant, so righteous!” When he said nothing, Lylia continued, “You do not even know about that, do you? You do not even know your history! All of this I would have revealed to you in time, when you were ready! Shall I tell you now? We can still be together! You can still hold me, caress me…”

Feeling his will crumbling, Uldyssian ducked back. Unfortunately, the horse, still fighting with him, used that moment to pull the reins free. Uldyssian spun around, chasing after them, but the horse was already too far away. He watched the animal race off into the night.

“Poor Uldyssian…but you do not need that weak creature! I can teach you to fly or materialize
anywhere!
Once more, the nephalem will rise and, this time, they will assume their rightful place! Ha!
I
will assume my rightful place, no matter how the High Heavens and the Burning Hells cry out against it!”

There was a manic tone in her voice, a hint of madness that he had never heard. Without thinking, Uldyssian looked at her.

Her eyes immediately snared his. Her lips parted and her tongue flashed out, licking as if about to devour a tasty tidbit.

“When he cast me out for what he thought eternity, he underestimated my resolve! I had slain all of them for the sake of the children; why would I then let the children be his to mold forever in his imperious image? They were special. They were more than either demons or angels! I saw then that they were to be the future, the true end to the infernal struggle!”

Lylia raised one clawed hand and Uldyssian felt his right foot slide forward. She beckoned with a single finger and his left followed suit. With effort, he slowed his momentum, but it was only a matter of time before he would stand directly in front of her.

Obviously aware of this, she continued to talk as if all was well between them, as if he was happy to know that he had lain with a monster. “What you have called a gift, my love, is that and much more! You…
all
humans…are the spawn of our coupling! From demon and angel came the nephalem, greater than anything ever created in the cosmos! The force I stirred within you, the force which I found begging to be released, is nothing less than your
birthright!
He would see it smothered and all of you kept as so much docile cattle to serve his vanity…but I…but I can offer far more!” She reached toward him. “Much, much more…”

Gritting his teeth, Uldyssian growled, “The only thing you can offer me is a way to forget what happened!”

“Do you
truly
wish to forget everything, my darling? Do you truly wish to forget
me?”

He finally managed to stop dead in his tracks. Face contorting from effort, Uldyssian retorted, “Nothing would please me more…”

“Is that so?” Lylia’s eyes flared darkly. “Is that so, my love?”

To his horror, Uldyssian discovered himself stumbling toward her at almost breakneck speed. His best efforts proved laughable and it suddenly came to Uldyssian that all this time Lylia had been toying with him. Not for a moment had he truly been able to stand against her power. His “birthright,” as she had called it, was nothing more than a hollow lie.

Her arms embraced him as he reached her. He, in turn, wrapped his own around her scaled form, the quills running down her back stabbing his flesh. Her body was a furnace, yet so very soft in the places that mattered. Uldyssian felt his lust rise up to do battle with his repugnance.

“Let us kiss and see how much you wish to forget,” Lylia mocked.

He could do no less than obey. His body reacted with a passion he could not quell.

No!
Uldyssian shouted in his mind, even as he and Lylia pressed against one another.
No! I won’t become hers again!

A sharp pain in his lower lip made him wince. She had bitten him. Uldyssian felt her tongue taste the blood and the action caused him to shiver.

Lylia finally pulled back. Her expression said it all. She knew that while part of him was utterly disgusted, another was entirely under her domination.

The demoness chuckled. Uldyssian experienced a sense of foreboding—

A tremendous force
struck
him full, sending the human flying through the air as he had once thought he had done to Malic’s Peace Warders. Uldyssian let out a cry as he soared among the trees, certain that he would hit one.

However, despite the odds so against him, he did not so much as graze a limb. Instead, Uldyssian finally dropped to the ground, tumbling hard and rolling several yards farther. Every bone felt as if it was breaking, every muscle shrieked. When the son of Diomedes finally came to a rest, he could not even so much as move a finger.

However, despite the distance Uldyssian had flown, he immediately sensed Lylia’s presence close by. Sure enough, she loomed over him but a breath later.

“The great Uldyssian, changer of worlds! I think you understand now just how
great
you truly are…”

“D-Damn…” was all he could say, his lungs still pleading for air.

“Still defiant?” She knelt down, giving him, despite the darkness, a very close look at her charms. “A worthy trait, sometimes…”

He could do nothing when she kissed him again. Well aware of his conflicting emotions, Lylia stretched it out longer than the last.

“I think you will come around,” the demoness cooed afterward. “But first, one more lesson to be learned, my love. The lesson of just what you are
without
me.”

The wind suddenly raged, howling like a pack of wolves as it tore through the region. The quills atop Lylia’s head shook as if alive. The demoness stood and raised her arms, clearly the cause of the shift in weather.

“Yes, let us see just what you are without me,” she repeated with a laugh. “Let us see how long your defiance lasts! Not so very long, I think, eh, my love?”

Summoning what strength he could, Uldyssian made a desperate lunge at her ankles. What he hoped to do beyond toppling her, the human could not say, but he felt that he had to try.

His attempt was as pitiful as his earlier arrogance. His fingers barely grazed her scaly hide. Lylia merely stood there, watching his antics.

“Not yet, not yet, dear Uldyssian! You can hold me again when you have been properly chastised…if, of course, you
survive
the lesson!” She cocked her head. “If…”

He snarled and tried again to reach her, but the wind trebled, shoving at him with such ferocity that Uldyssian was rolled back. The world spun around him for a moment and once more he was left gasping for air.

Without warning, the terrifying gust died. Silence fell over the area. Uldyssian’s lungs gradually filled. He managed to twist his gaze back, wondering what the temptress would do to him next.

But Lylia—if that was indeed her name—was
gone
.

Let us see what you are without me,
she had said. He shuddered, knowing that her absence presaged dire events to come. The demoness had proven quite readily that Uldyssian had no true power, that everything had been a hoax perpetuated by her.

Visions of Inquisitors and Peace Warders filled his head. He imagined demons and morlu already waiting in the dark, their thirst for his blood only held in check by their masters. It mattered not which sect; both the Primus and the Prophet apparently wanted him for his vaunted “birthright.” However, once they discovered that he was merely an empty shell, a pawn, they would have no further use for him.

Worse, those he had led into this would also see him as a man of false promises. They would lose heart, turn against him. His friends would realize that they had given up everything for nothing.

Let us see what you are without me
.