Quest for the Sun Orb (2 page)

He returned to his fire and dug into his pack for some
kinsaki,
a mixture of shredded meat, nuts, berries, and fat that was shaped into small cakes and dried quickly in the desert sun of Isiben.  High in protein, fat and other nutrients, a Hunter could live for weeks on a diet of
kinsaki
and water if necessary.  Bredon pulled out a cake and considered crumbling it into some water for a hot broth, but decided against it.  For tonight, cold
kinsaki
and hot tea would serve.

As he chewed slowly on the tough
kinsaki
he tried to imagine what had prompted Marene to do what she’d done.  Had she died, he wondered, and sought him out as a means to extend her own life?  That made a sort of sense, given what he knew of Marene.  But how had she become so evil?  And why?  He’d never liked Marene.  Few did.  She was cold, calculating, and completely self-centered.  But not
evil
. 

That Marene dabbled in magic was an open secret that most believed, but no one knew for certain.  Her invasion of his body had to be magic of the darkest sort.  As far as he knew only demons could do such things.  Or, he remembered suddenly, those who practiced demon arts.  Had Marene gone that far?  If so, why?  She was wealthy, beautiful, and even though she had little rank, she had power. 

Bredon shook his head.  What difference did it make why she’d done it?  The important question was, what would she, or better, what
could
she do when she woke up?  Would she have the power to control his body?  If so, to what extent?  What would she do, or make him do?  Would he be aware of her then as he was now?  Would he be able to fight her? 

He had so many questions, and no answers.  Who could he turn to?  Who could possibly understand what had happened to him, and help him to fix it without attempting to kill him? 

He finished his
kinsaki
and banked the fire before lying down on his bedroll.  He stared at the dying flames for a long time, the same questions chasing each other around and around in his mind.  Just as his eyes began to close, he realized there
was
someone he could go to.  Someone who might be able to help him.  Worrow.  If there was anyone who might have answers for him, it was Worrow,
Zamon
of the Sirelina, their physical and spiritual healer.  He would have to wait until the Orb Quest left the Sirelina’s village before he dared approach Worrow, though.  He could not risk going near Kapia with Marene coiled inside of him like a snake waiting to strike.  But, he could go back toward the village so that the moment they left, he could go straight to Worrow.  Once Worrow rid him of Marene, he could easily catch up to the Orb Quest.  Satisfied with his plan, Bredon closed his eyes and relaxed, allowing himself to drift off to sleep.

The fire crackled and snapped, a bit of resin on a small branch flared up brightly until it broke in half and fell into the coals below it.  The diplo snorted a few yards away, and a night bird called out in triumph after a successful hunt.  Suddenly, Bredon’s eyes, once green as spring grass, now a dark, muddy brown, flew open, and Marene looked around warily. 

When she was satisfied that she was alone, she sat up, moving slowly and awkwardly.  She raised Bredon’s hands up and gazed at them by the faint light of the glowing coals and smiled.  Bredon’s large, calloused hands were neither the slender, delicate hands she’d once had, nor the powerful hands of a dark witch that she’d earned for herself these past weeks, but they were strong and tough.  They would do, for now.  She lowered the hands to her lap and stared into the darkness for long minutes as she considered her options, and worked out her next step. 

The fire cooled further while she sat there, the coals now dull with ash.  Finally, she nodded slowly to herself, lips stretching into a smile that had never before been seen on Bredon’s face.  She reached out and picked up a few sticks of the wood remaining in the pile Bredon had gathered and placed them on the coals, stirring the fire back to life with slow, clumsy movements.  Spotting Bredon’s pack nearby, she pulled it closer and began rummaging through it, dropping the contents haphazardly on the ground.  Finding nothing of use, she shoved everything back in, and pushed it away.  Then she reached down to the belt wrapped around Bredon’s waist, and found what she was looking for.  A knife.

She slid the knife from its sheath and tested the edge with a thumb, smiling with satisfaction when the thick, calloused flesh parted easily and several drops of blood welled up.  She set the knife down and added more wood to the fire, building it up so that it would burn for a while without her having to feed it.  When she was satisfied, she sat up straight, took a deep breath, stared into the fire, and began chanting. 

***

Tahzel made his way through the long burning tunnels carved into the mighty mountain of Nariq-Qu, home of ShaiTyan, King of the Fire Djinn of Skiatos. Tahzel was familiar with ShaiTyan, though none could be said to know him.  The Fire-King preferred to keep his own counsel, and had no need, or want, of confidants, counselors, or friends.

It was a long walk from the entrance of Nariq-Qu to ShaiTyan’s private sanctuary, but it gave Tahzel time to think.  His news could be taken either well or ill, depending on his delivery of it.  He hoped that he was able to assist ShaiTyan in seeing the benefit of this latest development across the Gate, but one never knew how ShaiTyan would react to anything.  He’d been in a foul mood for a thousand years now, ever since the last High King of the Djinn had taken the
Zatroa
across the Gate and foolishly gotten himself, and the
Zatroa
, stranded there.  Without the
Zatroa
, the sacred scepter of the four clans, the coveted title of
High King of the Djinn
could not be claimed. 

At last Tahzel reached the
rokkeli
, two creatures of fire and stone created by ShaiTyan himself to guard the entrance to his personal chamber.  As the creatures glared at him with glowing eyes, their fiery nostrils flaring, Tahzel wondered, not for the first time, what it was they looked for.  It wasn’t as though any other than Fire Djinn could enter Nariq-Qu without being burned to a cinder.  And what Fire Djinn would ever consider attacking ShaiTyan? 

The
rokkeli
finished their inspection of Tahzel and moved aside, allowing him entrance into ShaiTyan’s chamber.  Tahzel spent one last moment ordering his thoughts, and then took a single step inside before going to his knees and placing his forehead against the stone floor.  He heard the
rokkeli
move back into place, blocking the entrance behind him, and he shivered with the knowledge that he would leave this place only by ShaiTyan’s order.

“Stand and tell me your news, Tahzel of the Fire Djinn,” the Fire-King commanded, his booming voice echoing around the gigantic cave.

Tahzel rose, his eyes flicking around in search of ShaiTyan.  The chamber glowed a dull red from the heat of the rock it was carved out of, but ShaiTyan was not to be seen.  Tahzel shivered again.  If ShaiTyan could not be seen, that meant he was burning as red as the cave around him, which was not a good sign. 

“I have helpful news, Master,” Tahzel said with all the conviction he could put into his voice.  He would never go so far as to say the news was
good
.  That would be foolish in the extreme.

“I would not be adverse to
helpful
news,” ShaiTyan replied, “should it be given in a timely manner.”

Tahzel swallowed nervously at the reprimand, a further sign of ShaiTyan’s poor mood. 

“A female of power such as we have not yet seen in those across the Gate, has recently come to our side,” he said.  

“You may explain further,” ShaiTyan said after a long moment. 

“She has long dabbled in dark magics, as her mother did before her, but she resisted all efforts to recruit her until a short time ago.  She swore the oath of aid in return for enhancement of her power, but did not become
cin-sahib
.  We called on her to steal the first orb when it was found, and granted to her an air demon and a warrior
cin-sahib
for the purpose.  The
cin-sahib
was lost in battle, as was the female, but she was able to possess the air demon.”

“Wait,” ShaiTyan interrupted.  “Did you say the female
possessed
the air demon?”

“Yes, Master, that is what she did,” Tahzel replied, trying not to sound as shocked as he still felt over the matter.

“She was not
cin-sahib
?” ShaiTyan asked.

“No, Master, she was not
cin-sahib
,” Tahzel said.  “She chose the path of
Myrkur
, instead.”

“It is too bad she now possesses the body of an air demon,” ShaiTyan said.  “One such as that may have been of some use.”

“She no longer possesses the air demon, Master,” Tahzel said.  “The air demon was destroyed almost the moment she took possession of it, before she had a chance to control it.”

“I assume there is more to this story, Tahzel.”

“Of course, Master,” Tahzel replied, hearing the warning.  “When the air demon was destroyed she managed to possess the body of her
fudaso
, a male of high rank in the army of those who defy us.”

ShaiTyan chuckled, a harsh, grating sound of rocks grinding against each other.  “Yes, she is one of power to manage such a feat as that.  The question is, will she put that power to use for us?”

“She has her own desires, of course,” Tahzel replied.  “She begs to do your bidding in exchange.”

“What is it that she asks...or should I say,
demands
?” ShaiTyan asked.

“She wants the body of a demon to possess,” Tahzel replied.  “One that is large and strong.  She cannot fully possess the human male she is currently riding.”

“Of course not,” ShaiTyan said, and Tahzel heard the humor in his voice.  “Not only is he not
cin-sahib
, he is her
fudaso
, the one she used to make her offering, and bind her to the light.  She is wily enough to recognize her limitations.  Perhaps some use can be made of this female.” 

ShaiTyan fell silent for a long time.  Tahzel remained motionless, knowing better than to interrupt his Master with questions or movements while he was thinking.  He had no idea how long he waited, nor did it matter to him.  Time in this dark, crowded realm meant nothing.

“Tell this female...what is her name?” ShaiTyan asked.

“Ma-Rene,” Tahzel replied.

“Tell this Ma-Rene that she will have the body of one of the most fearsome of all demons, but only upon completion of the task I set for her,” ShaiTyan said.  “Be certain that the word
demon
is used, Tahzel.  Not
Djinn
.”

“Of course, Master,” Tahzel replied.  It was a critically important distinction.  There was no possibility that he would forget it.

“When she accepts, tell her this,” ShaiTyan said. 

Tahzel closed his eyes, knowing what was coming, accepting the pain of it before it began.  When he opened his eyes sometime later he was lying sprawled upon the floor with ShaiTyan’s plan burned into his mind.  He struggled to his feet and bowed before turning to leave, knowing he’d been dismissed the moment his eyes had opened.  As he stepped through the narrow opening between the
rokkeli
, ShaiTyan began to laugh, but this time the sound grew and grew until all of Nariq-Qu began to shake around them. 

***

Worrow,
Zamon
of the Sirelina, watched with a peculiar mix of fear and excitement as the tiny boat carrying Princess Kapia, Prince Zakiel, and his bride of one day, Karma, the Lady Techu, drifted slowly toward him.  Several men, both Hunters and Sirelina, waded into the water to guide the boat the rest of the way to shore, but it was done silently.  None of those in the boat offered to speak of their journey, and none of those in the water asked.  Worrow’s tension went up a notch.  Wouldn’t they be excited if they’d succeeded?  The fate of Rathira itself rested on their success.  Why did no one speak?

Worrow waited on the beach, his calm demeanor revealing nothing of his inner turmoil.  The men pushed the boat up onto the beach so that those inside of it could get out without stepping into the water.  Prince Zakiel rose to his feet, and held his hand out to Karma.  Once she was out of the boat he turned to his sister, Kapia, then followed after her, Nikura the Sphin leaping lightly to the sand behind him.  Worrow noticed that Kapia was carrying something wrapped in what appeared to be Karma’s vest, and he allowed himself to relax just a little.  She stood on the beach for a long moment, looking around at those who had gathered to await their return.  Then she dropped her gaze to the sand in front of her feet and did not look up again.

Worrow studied the small party as they walked toward him, noting their tired, drawn expressions.  Something had gone badly, that much seemed clear.  But if they had the Moon Orb, as it appeared, what could possibly be so bad that it dimmed what should have been such a triumph?

“Greetings,
Zamon
Worrow,” Prince Zakiel said as they stopped in front of him.

“Greetings, Highness,” Worrow replied.  “I imagine you are all hungry and tired after your long day.  Would you like to come to my home for a hot meal?”

“Yes, thank you,” Prince Zakiel said after glancing at Karma and seeing her tiny nod.  “We would very much appreciate that.”

Worrow turned and led the way off the beach and into the village, keeping his step slower than usual in deference to those following him.  He’d sent his apprentice ahead with a wave so that by the time they reached his home, the table was set and the hot food that he’d ordered prepared in advance was waiting.  He noticed that Kapia kept her bundle in her lap when she sat at the table, and was further assured that it contained the Moon Orb.  So why were his young, brave friends so unhappy?

As curious as he was, he waited until his guests had eaten and had a hot drink.  Then Zakiel turned to him and sighed heavily.  “Do you wish to know what happened, Worrow?” he asked.