A Dead God's Tear (The Netherwalker Trilogy) (44 page)

BOOK: A Dead God's Tear (The Netherwalker Trilogy)
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Marcius realized what he had done as he looked back. There was a ripple in the air, like a disturbance in a still pond, and even without the help of his familiar, he was able to see the sli
ght shimmer of the nether.

He had passed through a magical barrier! Of course Marcius had read of such things, but never did he expect to be on the receiving end. It was supposed to be a powerful magic. Just who was this person that he needed a barrier to
protect him? Or maybe, and the realization made Marcius's stomach churn, it was to keep the 'abomination' trapped?

He turned around, intent on going back, but already Selene had closed the gate and melted into the surrounding forest. He felt truly alone no
w. There was nowhere to go but forward. Marcius steeled himself; the entire area had a presence that was throwing off his senses. It was if he was constantly off balance.

He didn't feel safe.

Remembering Selene's warning, Marcius did his best to adhere to the dirt path. It led him to the mouth of a cave, but it was obvious as he approached that it wasn't natural in any sense of the word. The sides were smooth, and the mouth was large. Flagstones lined the floor, meshing at the entrance with the dusty dirt path. Oil lamps, their flames flickering with every slight gust of wind, lined the sides and the entire place gave off an acute sense of timeless age.

Cautiously Marcius explored deeper and in the back a sturdy set of double doors awaited; twin portals that
enticed Marcius to try the handle, if only to satisfy the curiosity of what lay beyond. There was no creak of rusted hinges as he opened it, only the deafening of absolute silence. Inside, it was if a castle had been built into the side of a hill. The walls were of sturdy brick and mortar and everything was well lit along the main corridor.

All too soon he reached the end, and it was here that the familiar sensation of dread returned, originating from behind a single innocent looking doorway. His hand shoo
k as he reached out, hooking around the handle which was cool to the touch. Marcius took only a moment to consider his action, and then pulled, the door swinging open ominously.

The room was lit up intensely by candles, and expansive enough to have a large
solid wooden table that spanned from one end to the other. But it was the figure that sat at the end of the table, staring directly at Marcius as he walked in, that stole the young apprentice's attention.

From the feral smile to the distinctly unelf propo
rtions, Marcius recognized the elf in front of him as one part of the pair from the trial. Except this time there was no hood to hide the way the skin stretched taut over a face that looked more akin to a skull than a living, breathing creature.


Welcome, human, to my humble household,” the elf said, his voice flowing like seductive honey. “I am glad that you could make it so promptly. Please, take a seat.”

Marcius nodded, his tongue suddenly heavy and unresponsive. He grabbed the chair in front of him, op
posite of the elf, and sat down. Plates of food, steam gently wafting, waited on the table. The elf had been expecting guests. His stomach rumbled its appreciation.


Do not be afraid to help yourself to that which you see before you,” the elf said, “There is no reason why you can't enjoy a good meal before we discuss why I requested your presence this day.”

The offer was tempting, but Marcius just couldn't do it. What was it about this elf that had him on edge? “
Who are you?”


Ah, straight to business, I see? Very well. 'Who am I' you ask? That is a many layered question, isn't it? I do believe what you meant was 'What are you', but I shall answer the question you put forth. Well, I am me. Unless you are asking for a name, then I'd say you could call me Velynere.”

Marcius shook his head, trying to orient himself and drive back the feeling of lethargy that had taken hold, Velynere's voice had such a smooth quality, placating, like silk  between fingertips. It tried to lull him into security, that there was not
hing to fear. But his senses warned him of danger, intangible, but still very real.

Velynere, resting the side of his head against a hand, noticed
Marcius's struggle and smiled, revealing perfect white teeth that glistened. “Ah, I see that I was right about you. Have you noticed the effect I have? Of hopelessness, of blissful ignorance, that threatens to take over?  Aye, I see the look in your eyes. 'What is he' it asks, yes? Well, that is something I will tell you, if you accept my offer.”

The apprentice s
hook his head, crashing his fist hard against the arm rest. There was an explosion of pain that lanced up his arm, but the fog in his head cleared. Pain, it seemed, was a way to combat the aura the elf exuded. “No,” he said through gritted teeth. He was tired of being controlled! “You will tell me now, or I won't listen to anything else you say.”

The elf sat back, cocking his head as he regarded Marcius with new light. “
Ah, I see. Very well then.” Marcius nodded to himself, ignoring the throbbing of his hand; the elf needed him. It was about time he got some answers.


What you see before you, young apprentice, is the end result of what happens to those who try and get back what they lost. More specifically, what a wizard becomes when he tries to reforge his shattered soul.”

Marcius stared at the elf, rifling through his words. What did he mean? The warning from Antaigne came unbidden into his mind. “
You lost your familiar,” Marcius said, half question, half statement, “And you tried to do it again!”

The elf n
odded, “Aye, I did. A fool's notion, when I look back on it. But I was hardly in the appropriate frame of mind. You know what it is like, though you are only separated by distance from yours.”

Marci
us let out a ragged breath. He did indeed know. There was an ache in his chest, constantly yearning for the familiar touch of Faerill. He was literally and figuratively missing a part of himself. How might he act if he had lost his familiar?

He glanced up,
back to the elf, “So, what are you, exactly?”

The smile Velynere shot back was one of reluctant acceptance. “
I am a monster in the truest sense of the word. There are some benefits to this curse, of course. My life is extended, far beyond that of even an elf. My senses and physical prowess is increased as well. And I have gained the ability to do magic again.”

Marcius gaped at the elf, “
Doesn't seem to be that bad, if you ask me.”

Velynere snorted, shifting in his chair. “
Easy enough to say. You feel it, the sense of fear, of being shifted and afraid of what I am. I am not natural, an abomination of the most perverse kind. Listen to your senses, human. You know what I am.”

Marcius looked hard at the elf, digesting the facts he knew. “
You are a predator,” he said slowly. “That is why you affect me so. I shouldn't trust you. You're dangerous.”

The elf smiled, “
Aye.  Very much so.”

The apprentice shook his head; it was too much to take in. “
What do you want? I assume it isn't to kill me. I don't think the elves would do that to me.”

Velynere laughed, “
No, I don't want anything like that. What I do want is to give you an offer. I believe we can help each other.”


How can you help me, exactly? Why should I trust you?”


Revenge, Marcius,” Velynere said, using the apprentice's name for the first time, “I know about your father and your Master. I also know the secret stirrings in your heart, the anger that boils under the surface. I. know.” The elf's eyebrow raised suggestively, “The people who stole that which you held dear, you wish to find, yes? I can help you find those responsible; I can help you become powerful enough to make them regret ever hurting those you loved. I can give you a means to that which you seek, where alone you might flounder.”

Hope rose in Marc
ius's chest. If such a solution was readily available, he'd be a fool not to accept. It was as Velynere said. He wanted them, whoever they were, to pay for taking those he loved from him. But the warning of Ken's tapestry, the teachings of Antaigne, the subtle suggestions of his father, came bubbling to the surface. Would they approve of him dealing with such a creature as this? It didn't take long for him to conclude that no, they would not.


What do you get out of this? You're not offering help just to be nice.”


Of course not. I have a little problem that you are uniquely suited to handling.”


You could get the elves to handle it, if it was that important.”

Velynere picked up a wine glass, gently swishing the contents as he regarded Mar
cius with an amused look, “Hah! Hardly, human. Selenthia tolerates my presence because I am too powerful and useful as a resource to do away with. They keep me like a guard dog, chained close enough to keep an eye on, yet far enough away to quell the fear in their hearts. Look around you. I am a prisoner within a golden cage.” He winced at his own admission before giving a shrug, “Still, it isn't so bad. I preoccupy myself with my magic, my research, which brings me full circle as to why I need you.”

Marciu
s would have been lying if he said he wasn't at least curious as to why the thing in front of him needed a lowly apprentice's help. “Alright, there is no harm in at least listening. What are you proposing?”


Let me lay out my offer to you first.” the elf said, setting down his glass carefully, before leaning forward on the table, “Two promises,” he said, raising a like number of fingers up, “One: I will answer the question that you will have upon conclusion of your training at the Academy.”


What qu—”


—you will know what the question is when you think of it,” he interrupted, drowning out Marcius's response. “It will be something that only I can answer. Two: I will train you further, once your Academy training is complete. I will give you the power and means to avenge your father and Master. I can give you the knowledge you crave, deep down in the darkest pits of your mind, Marcius.”

Marcius's breath hitched in his throat. Was it possible that this being spoke the truth? If so, everything he was striving for
was within his fingertips. But, was that what he wanted? Was it so hard to just be left alone to practice magic? He was shaking his head, trusting his gut, before he even fully thought about the elf's offer. “No, things aren't that simple.” He could hear Jared and Alicia's disappointment if he'd just accept at face value what Velynere was saying. “You're promising me a lot of things, so you must be desperate.”


No, not desperate, but something has caught my fancy recently,” Velynere said, but it was the cold amber eyes that shone with a hunger that had Marcius doubting the elf's words, “You see, I have recently come across the solution to a mystery that plagues these woods. You know of the Myst, yes?”

Marcius nodded, Selene's words came to the forefront of h
is mind. The elf continued. “The Myst is a byproduct of the intense amount of nether gathered here. It warps reality and makes. . . unnatural. . . occurrences and phenomenon. Up until now, we have had to depend on the spirit beasts, which generate an
alear
, a shield of sorts, to protect us from the warping and monsters that roam the Mysts. But, I have found a way to generate a false field that mirrors the spirit beast’s
alear
!”


What does all of this have to do with me?” Marcius asked. Academic learning was something that always held a sway over him, but he doubted the elf forcibly invited him over to discuss theory.


There are numerous parts of Selenthia that transform when the Myst takes over. Up until now, we've had no way to reliably explore them. I want you to investigate some information I've uncovered.”


Why me?”


Because you're best suited for it. I'm kept chained to this estate. A prisoner. The rest of Selenthia tactfully ignores or spits at my very existence. I had pulled many favors to even be allowed out for a brief respite, to attend your trial. Depending on how long this upcoming war lasts, there might not be another outsider willing to do this for another few hundred years. We have long memories and even longer grudges.”


I don't know. . . ” Everything Velynere proposed was laced with logic, but there was something the elf was leaving out.


Look,” Velynere said, reaching into a pocket along his side. He pulled out a simple looking amulet. The large stone in the center was clear, and a thin wisp of hair seemed to float in the milky depths, caught in stasis. “This will shield you from the Myst and will alert you when you get near what I am looking for. Just say the word imprinted on the back to activate it. Wait until night, when the Myst is thick and follow where it takes you. Bring anything you find back to me and I'll reward you handsomely. Think about it.”

Marcius couldn't help himself. He reached out, taking the offered amulet from the elf. It was cold in his hands, a certain lack of warmth that
extended farther than it should have. The stone flashed brightly as it spun slowly on its chain.

BOOK: A Dead God's Tear (The Netherwalker Trilogy)
6.9Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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