The Undying God (12 page)

Only yesterday he had received news of
the project’s progress. An orphan handed the ambassador a letter,
which he quickly pried open with shaking fingers. His heart
quivered with each word he read, especially when he received
instructions to rendezvous with the battlemaster the following
night. Rafael couldn’t deny his dread as he approached the
figure.

“Have you assembled the construct?”
Rafael asked.

“So swift to part with etiquette... Am
I not worthy of a proper greeting?” The tone of his voice struck
Rafael as strange, but he dismissed it.

“Of course. I am Rafael, ambassador for
Azia-Nocti. You have my endless thanks for agreeing to this
exchange.” The battlemaster didn’t respond. Uncomfortable with any
elongated period of silence, Rafael cleared his throat and said,
“Forgive me, but I never learned your name. Who are
you?”

“Venexa,” spoke the figure. The entity
pulled back the hood to reveal a woman with light hair. Rafael
jerked in surprise, hardly expecting to see a woman. Her striking
eyes portended her determination, a will unparalleled in intensity
and a robust confidence that mocked his own. She smirked defiantly
at his blatant surprise.

“To answer your first question, yes,
the contraption is assembled. Soon, your dreams of conquest will be
realized.”

“You misunderstand me,” Rafael replied
hastily. “I do not seek to conquer Azia-Nocti. I merely require a
weapon to wield against the inept leadership that threatens to
destroy my city.” Venexa acknowledged his claim with a rise of her
thin eyebrows.

“You mean the treaty with
Gaelithea?”

“Yes, the horrendous alliance that
Oligarch Ichari is considering. I must not allow it. I escaped the
hells of Gaelithea to live out my existence in peace here. By
agreeing to their terms, we are surrendering to them. Can you
imagine what this will do to our city?”

If he removed the opposition, King
Nizaz would reject the treaty. Nizaz was not aware of the steps
Rafael had taken to secure this weapon. Rafael justified his covert
operation no matter the potential consequences and political
fallout. He couldn’t risk the king objecting to his radical
methods.

“If I recall, you sought asylum here
from the wrath of Gaelithea,” the battlemaster said. Rafael jerked
in surprise. Venexa profoundly savored the expression on his face.
“The terms of the treaty state that all convicts who fled Gaelithea
and found asylum in Azia-Nocti are to be extradited. You will be
stripped of status...”

Rafael ogled her with shock, even
hatred. How could she possibly learn of the assassination he had
commissioned against a noble family in Gaelithea?

“I am aware of your less than reputable
past, Rafael... even if the authorities are not.” She circled him
like a seductive predator amused by the fear of her prey. “You are
a dangerous man, Rafael...” Her face was much closer to his now,
her intense eyes prying into his. “But you are nothing compared to
the wrath of Gaelithea.”

The ambassador wanted to dispose of her
in an instant. She was a liability, someone who knew his identity
and misdeeds. Yet, Rafael knew she would slay him and his
bodyguards. He almost preferred that she killed him now.

“I will not die in Gaelithea,” Rafael
breathed. “And if I die here as a result of my actions, so be
it.”

“Would you like to observe the
construct?” Venexa asked. Rafael nodded in acquiescence. “Then
retreat to the perimeter of the arena.” The ambassador didn’t
delay, flanked by his bodyguards. When he reached his destination,
he looked for Venexa. She smiled and signaled someone in the
obscurity of the shadows.

A rumble coursed through the sand. The
surface of the amphitheater shifted and slowly lowered like a
tiered platform. Rafael waited patiently, his eyes watching the
churning sands gushing into the darkness like a
waterfall.

Metal tiers submerged below the earth’s
surface to a place where the ruins lurked. He couldn’t begin to
fathom what had ended the reign of the southern empire. He surmised
that an earthquake had destroyed the city, for how else could so
many artifacts end up below the surface?

He longed to return to the site where
he discovered the stone tablets. However, the caverns below
Azia-Nocti were structurally weak and prone to collapse. Nor did he
suspect that he was entirely alone as he wandered through the ruins
in search of knowledge.

He tensed as the colossal platform rose
toward the surface. Rafael cried out when he saw what had emerged
from the arena.

A gargantuan spider loomed in the
sands. It did not move, eyeing its prey insidiously. His bodyguards
brandished their weapons. Their blades were futile against a
creature so massive, a beast nearly forty feet tall. Rafael was
afraid to move, and his blood now ran cold with fright. At last, he
shouted to dispatch his guards.

“Slay it! Kill the monster—”

Battlemaster Venexa laughed
malevolently. As his guards took a step forward, they
faltered.

The siege machine was arachnoid in
form, nothing like Rafael had imagined when he discovered the
schematics.

“It is beautiful,” Venexa fawned. “I
need only find a way to imbue it with life.” The ambassador looked
on with silent awe. He wondered if he made a grave mistake in
recovering this abomination.

“How does it operate?” croaked the
shaken ambassador.

“Based on the schematics you provided,
a chamber within the abdomen burns massive amounts of oil. The
steam it produces provides it with energy... Yet, I haven’t made
the connection between this steam and how to control its
movements.” Rafael had never seen or heard of such an
apparatus.

Venexa smiled and placed a slender hand
on its abdomen.

“But I am determined to control it.
There must be a way to manipulate this device. It would be an
unstoppable weapon in war... or a coup. Once the siege machine
bursts through the walls that divide the slums and the royal
district, it will be far too late. Everything in its path will be
decimated. The city itself will bow before the destruction I
wield.”

Rafael expressly noticed her use of the
word “I” and shuddered.

He apprehensively approved of the work
she had accomplished. Nonetheless, he couldn’t control the way he
was shaking. He nodded at Venexa and began to slink away without
another word.

* * *

“What about this one?” Nishka
asked.

Arxu shook his head.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“It doesn’t look healthy.”

“Okay… What about this?” She indicated
a young donkey. Arxu bent down and vigilantly studied its
hooves.

“Its hooves are split.”

“It’s not like we’re picking out a wife
for you,” Nishka said with frustration.

“I have no need for a wife,” he
replied, catching her off guard.

“Well… This mule looks relatively
healthy…” Every once in a while, a merchant would try to entice
Nishka with silk or jewelry, but she would wave him away. She
pretended to observe the pack mules for a while longer.

“So you don’t feel lonely?”

“No. Is that why you would marry? To be
rid of loneliness?”

“There’s a huge difference between
being lonely and not wanting to marry into second class
citizenship. Cooking, washing, and obeying without question sound
spectacular and everything, but I’d rather hold onto my
dignity.”

“Marriage doesn’t sound very
pleasant.”

“I want to marry someday, but I don’t
feel like a lot of men respect me.”

“Why?”

“I’m a woman,” Nishka said
matter-of-factly. “Women are expected to clean the house, cook
meals, and bear children. I don’t fit a man’s perfect mold of a
wife. I want marriage to be a partnership.”

“And most men don’t?”

“Most women are subservient to their
husbands. They seem to give up their sense of self when they marry.
I’m not about to let a man walk all over me.” Her gaze lingered on
the homes around her. “A man in the village once proposed to me. I
don’t think he had the faintest idea how old I was, let alone my
name. I think he just wanted a pretty wife.”

“I take it you refused him.”

“Would you accept the proposal of a
fifty-year-old man?” Nishka laughed. “You’re different from a lot
of men, Arxu. It’s kind of refreshing that you have no interest in
seducing me.”

“I don’t have sexual
desires.”

“Precisely! I don’t have to worry about
you trying anything… like Hrioshango. So if you don’t think about
sex…
what does a man think about it?
”

“Survival.”

“And I thought we were making
progress,” Nishka smiled. Arxu silently studied the mules, not
bothering to reply. In fact, the longer he considered his options,
the more doubt crept into his mind.

“Considering our encounters on the
road, we may come under similar attacks. We can’t risk a pack
animal turning loose at the first sign of danger.”

“What are you suggesting?” Arxu’s
attention briefly wandered across the marketplace, his eyes falling
on the bizarre Hrioshango.

He could sense a high level of magick
on the darkling, but it wasn’t related to the creature itself.
Something he possessed was radiating an immense level of power.
Arxu looked closely at the brown cloak Hrioshango wore over his
other garments.

If he wasn’t mistaken, the cloak
possessed properties useful for transporting items. He was fairly
certain the properties in question were extradimensional.
Theoretically, its pockets were a gateway to another dimension
where an endless amount of matter could be stored. How this rare
item had fallen into the hands of this darkling, he would never
know. He approached Hrioshango and the darkling stopped to regard
him.

“I would like to barter for your
enchanted cloak.”

“This cloak is not for
sale!”

“Gamble?” Hrioshango’s eyes brightened.
The single word triggered the darkling’s sinister impulses.
Hrioshango excitedly reached into his cloak and retrieved a pair of
worn, bone dice.

Arxu regarded the items for a few
seconds and said, “You have mercury weights in those dice.”
Flabbergasted, Hrioshango stared at him with engorged
eyes.

“Fine,” Hrioshango growled, stowing
away the dice in his myriad of pockets. He retrieved more dice and
slapped them on a nearby merchant’s stall.

“Excuse me, I’m trying to
sell—”

“Shut up, ugly human!” Hrioshango
screeched, pulling out his blade to emphasize the point. The
merchant immediately skittered away to escape the chaos magician’s
wrath. Nishka watched from the side of the street with
horror.

Arxu regarded the dice and nodded in
approval. With the other hand, he produced several gems.
Hrioshango’s eyes gleamed with demonic joy.

“Magicked?”

“No,” Arxu said flatly. “I wouldn’t
trust you with stones imbued with spells. These are unenchanted.”
Hrioshango shrugged beneath his voluminous cloaks and snatched up
the pair of dice.

He tossed them into the air and
dexterously caught three on the back of his hand. The combined
number of spots on the topmost surface determined the outcome of
the toss.

“Six,” he said, handing the dice to the
Nightwalker. Arxu had never gambled before, but the concept was
easy to grasp. His hand swiftly shot out like a spear. The dice
landed deftly on his hand, revealing ten dots. Hrioshango scoffed
and swiped the dice. He tossed and smiled impishly. “Twelve.” He
was satisfied with his fortune and fairly confident he would win.
His gambling career spanned several years, and he was proud of
leaving numerous contenders destitute and ruined. He didn’t even
notice Arxu’s toss.

“Eight,” Arxu said.

“Only eight?” Hrioshango mocked. He
gleefully observed six spots at the end of his next toss. “Aha!”
The odds did not discourage Arxu.

“You will give up the cloak if I
win?”

“Yes,” Hrioshango leered. “
If you
lose
, the cloak will remain mine and you will forfeit your
gems.”

Arxu glanced at Nishka, watching safely
from a distance. With a flick of his wrist, he cast the dice and
let them fall. Nine spots glared into Hrioshango’s eyes. “You’ll
need to find another cloak.”

“Foul bastard!” Hrioshango exclaimed.
“I shall flay the cloak from your body when you are dead! It will
be mine again!” He outstretched his claws to the skies as if in
defiance of the fate the gods had sent him. Nishka choked back her
laughter.

Arxu threw the cloak around his
shoulders and walked away with Nishka.

Hrioshango shrugged, accepting his
misfortune. Perhaps now was an acceptable time to drug his sadness
away. He searched through his robes, seeking for his sordid “flying
potion.” His hands roamed from one pocket to the next, gradually
becoming frantic. Dismay crashed over him when he realized it was
no longer in his possession, but within the cloak Arxu
possessed.