Sea of Death: Blade of the Flame - Book 3 (12 page)

It must be a very lonely way to grow up, Ghaji thought. Curse or no curse, he felt sorry for the child forced to live behind the metal door. Strange and unfamiliar sigils and runes had been scratched into the surface of the door, dozens of them over the long years since the curse first took hold. Ghaji was by no means an expert, but he felt certain the markings were all protective charms of one kind or another. A glance at Diran, a nod from his friend, and Ghaji’s suspicion was confirmed.

As they drew near the iron door, Ghaji could feel waves of anger radiating from the chamber within, so strong that it was nearly a physical force. It took an effort to move forward, almost as if they were walking into a strong wind. He clenched his jaw tight and concentrated on ignoring the Fury that buffeted him, but he could feel it sinking into his mind, making itself at home, and beginning to grow.

They hate you, you know. Half-orc. Half-human. Haifa man … Show them how strong you are. Take hold of your axe. Will its flames to life. Strike swiftly and without mercy …

Ghaji’s hand reached for his elemental axe. But before he could draw the weapon, Diran laid his hand on the half-orc’s shoulder, and Ghaji felt soothing calm spread through him. The Fury was still
there at the core of his being, but its urgings were quieter now, more easily ignored.

Ghaji gave his friend a nod of thanks then looked to Asenka. From the strained expression on her face, it was clear the woman was fighting her own battle to resist the Fury, but he saw that Diran held her hand tight, and Ghaji knew that his friend was also helping Asenka hold the Fury at bay.

When they reached the door, Calida stopped and turned to regard the three of them.

“I’m impressed. Most outsiders can’t make it this far without trying to kill each other … or themselves.”

“What of you?” Diran asked. “You seem unaffected.”

The Baroness gave the priest a lopsided smile. “Unfortunately, I am used to resisting the Fury … as are all who serve me.” She nodded to the two guards that had accompanied them. “Do not underestimate my son’s power. After Taran was born, he … his father was gripped by the Fury. My husband was driven to slay me, but enough presence of mind remained to him that he took his own life rather than harm me.” She then looked away from them, as if suddenly embarrassed, and gestured at the door. “I do not have the strength to unbar it. If you wouldn’t mind …”

Ghaji stepped forward. As soon as he slipped away from Diran, he felt the Fury whelm into him anew, but because he knew what to expect—and because of the lingering influence of Diran’s calming touch—he was better able to withstand it this time. With a grunt of effort he raised the heavy iron crossbar then took hold of the door handle. He didn’t open it yet, though. He looked to Diran to see if his friend was prepared to enter the chamber.

The priest looked at Asenka. “I think it best if Ghaji and I go in alone,” he said. Asenka started to protest, but Diran cut her off. “I mean no insult, but we have much more experience dealing with this sort of thing. If we fail to withstand the Fury, we might well end up attacking one another … or you.”

“I’m not afraid,” Asenka said.

“It’s not your fear that’s at issue,” Diran said. “It’s mine. I will not be able to fully devote myself mind and soul to the task ahead if
I’m distracted by concern for your safety. Remain in the corridor and guard the door. If we need you, we’ll call out.” When Asenka didn’t answer right away, Diran added, “Please?”

For a moment, Asenka looked as if she might protest further, but she assented with a single curt nod. “Very well, I’ll remain. But don’t even think of asking me to lower the crossbar while you’re inside. I won’t do it.”

Now it was Diran who looked as if he might protest, but like Asenka, he merely nodded.

“I shall return to the chamber where we first spoke,” Calida said. Her tone was flat, her gaze dull. “Let me know how you fared … assuming any of you survive.” Without further comment, she turned and began shuffling back down the corridor.

The guards said nothing as they took up positions on either side of the door. Ghaji had thought at first that the guards’ impassive silence was just an intimidation act. Now he understood that they were concentrating on resisting the Fury.

“Call if you need me,” Asenka said. She then leaned forward and gave Diran a quick kiss on the lips. “For luck,” she explained.

Ghaji expected his friend to say something suitably pious and heroic, such as
Thank you, but I have no need of luck as long as I have my faith to sustain me
. Instead, Diran simply smiled at Asenka before turning to Ghaji and giving him a nod.

Time to go to work.

Ghaji opened the door and stepped inside. Diran followed and moved past the half-orc, slipping into the room as silent as a shadow, and Ghaji closed the door behind them.

The room was dark, so much so that even Ghaji’s orcish night vision couldn’t make out any details. There were no windows, no candles or lamps. Knowing an attack might come at them any instant, Ghaji drew his elemental axe and willed it to activate. Mystic flames burst into life around the blade, revealing a stone room devoid of furnishings, the only exceptions being a rumpled bedroll in the middle of the floor and a chamber pot that smelled as if it hadn’t been emptied in a while located in one corner. Sitting on the floor next to the bedroll, cross-legged and looking at them with an almost serene
expression on his face, was a boy who couldn’t have been more than ten. He was completely naked, the flesh of his body crisscrossed with scratches—some scabbed over, some fresh and bleeding—as if the boy had been clawing at his own flesh. The child’s resemblance to Calida was obvious both in his face and brunette hair. But as disturbing as the boy’s appearance was, the aspect that bothered Ghaji the most was his eyes: they were completely black, moist and glossy, like the eyes of a beast.

“Are you Taran, son of Baroness Calida?” Diran asked. The priest’s voice was firm, but kind.

The boy’s beatific smile grew wider and became sinister, almost mocking. “She thinks so. The stupid cow.”

Ghaji remembered an important element of the curse of Kolbyr. “Diran, wasn’t the firstborn child supposed to be an indestructible monster? This boy may be in dire need of a lesson in manners, but he looks human enough … except for those eyes.”

Diran smiled grimly, but he kept his gaze fixed on the child. “It appears the details of the curse have become distorted over the last century, starting with its very name. You see, my friend, the Curse of Kolbyr isn’t a curse at all. This boy is possessed by a demon—one that has cast a foul enchantment over the city, causing the Fury.”

Ghaji could feel waves of hatred and fury rolling off the naked boy, and he had no trouble believing Diran’s words. Then a thought occurred to him, and he frowned. “But what of all the other firstborns that preceded Taran? Were they possessed by demons as well?”

“My guess is they were,” Diran said. “But not by other demons: by the
same
demon. That’s why each cursed firstborn is reputed to be indestructible. They’re individual bodies may perish, but the demon that possesses them simply waits to return in the next generation.”

The boy’s grin grew even wider, his mouth stretching farther than was humanly possible. The corners of his mouth tore and thin lines of blood ran down past his chin. “Well done, priest. I knew when I first sensed you and your friends approaching the city—and by the way, I
did
send those gulls to attack you as a greeting—I knew you would prove to be a worthy adversary. Perhaps the most worthy I’ve faced since first being summoned.”

Ghaji snorted. “Spare us. Your kind always thinks you can put opponents off balance by alternately complimenting then castigating them. We’ve heard it all before.”

The boy turned to regard Ghaji with his glossy black eyes, and despite his earlier courage, the half-orc warrior felt a chill shiver down his spine.

“Is that so? Then perhaps you’d like to hear something new. My body may be locked away in this chamber, but my mind roams free. I know many things … things you and your companions would dearly love to know.”

Ghaji rolled his eyes. “And now you’re trying to make deals with us. Is there some kind of infernal school where they teach you this sort of thing, or are demons bereft not only of souls but of imagination as well?”

The demon grinned even wider, and this time Ghaji thought he could hear the boy’s mouth tear. The blood flow increased, and now drops fell from Taran’s chin to patter onto his claw-marked chest. “Let me give you a sample of my wares. I know where your elven lady-love is right now, half-orc. I know who she’s talking to and what they’re talking about. I could relate their conversation to you word for word, if you wish. It would be as if you were standing there beside her, listening unseen.”

Ghaji clenched his teeth in anger. “Shut up.”

The demon continued speaking, its voice a hideous parody of sympathy and concern. “She’s such a mystery to you … you have so many doubts. You keep them to yourself, struggle to tell yourself that you understand and that not knowing doesn’t matter. But it does matter to you, doesn’t it, half-orc? It matters very much indeed.”

Ghaji’s gripped the haft of his axe tighter, and without realizing it he took a step toward the possessed child. Diran took hold of his arm and stopped him.

“He’s just trying to goad you,” the priest said. “If you slay the demon’s host body, the Fury will be dispelled, but Calida will lose her son. The demon will be banished, but only until such time as the next Baron or Baroness produces an heir.”

“As long as that ruler is a descendent of the House of Kolbyr,” the
demon said. “When the line of Kolbyr ends, so too ends the curse, and I shall return to your world no more. Needless to say, I hope that doesn’t occur for many, many years. I’m having too much fun playing with the city and all the foolish mortal toys that inhabit it. I love to make them angry, make them fight each other,
kill
each other … I’m a naughty child, I suppose, always breaking my toys.” The boy shrugged. “But no matter. There are more where those came from, are there not?”

“The one who summoned you was Kolbyr’s sister,” Diran said. “Nathifa was her name.”

“I should make you barter for confirming that information, but I’m in an especially good mood today. Yes, that’s true.”

“She must’ve have been an especially powerful sorceress to call forth a demon of your strength,” Diran said.

The demon’s laugh was so much like that of a normal little boy that it startled Ghaji.

“So now it is
your
turn to attempt to appeal to
my
vanity, eh? What fun! You amuse me, so here’s another free tidbit: the sorceress is powerful, yes, but the one she serves—and from whom her power flows—is far stronger.”

Diran frowned. “You speak of the sorceress in present tense, but she summoned you a century ago. Are you telling us that she still lives after all this time?”

A sly look came over the boy’s face, as if he were hiding a secret. “She is not alive, and that’s the last thing I shall tell you without receiving payment first.”

Ghaji glanced at Diran. “Not alive isn’t the same thing as being dead.”

“Indeed,” Diran agreed.

“Are you now convinced that the information I have to offer is worth the cost?” the demon said. “Are you ready to bargain with me?” The demon sounded almost as if it were pleading, like a child begging an adult to play.

Diran appeared to consider the demon’s offer. “I don’t know … you haven’t really told us anything
new
. And quite frankly, you could be making up what you
have
told us. Demons aren’t known for their scrupulous adherence to the facts.”

“My friend means you’re a bunch of damned liars,” Ghaji translated. “Literally.”

The demon scowled, and the waves of anger pouring off of him became more intense. “Do not push me, half-orc. Cease to amuse me, and it will go all the worse for you.” The demon considered for a moment. “Very well. Another sample for you, but I warn you, this is the last. I know where your vampire lover is, priest. I know who she travels with and where they are bound. Not only do they sail the vessel the half-orc’s love lost, they also carry with them an object that your artificer friend is most anxious to regain possession of.” The fiend’s smile returned. “Now are you interested in bargaining with me?”

Ghaji was stunned by the demon’s words. He’d learned a great deal about infernal creatures since beginning his travels with Diran, and he knew that demons did far worse than simply lie. They seasoned their falsehoods with truth, mixing the two together until you couldn’t tell where one began and the other ended. It was this diabolical tactic that ensnared more fools than any other, and even though Ghaji knew better, he found himself tempted by the demon’s offer.

If I could return the
Zephyr
to Yvka …

Ghaji turned to Diran, looking to his friend for support. Diran wouldn’t be tempted by the demon’s sly words. He’d take hold of his silver arrowhead, the sacred symbol of the Silver Flame, and he’d thrust it toward the demon’s face, and in a commanding voice reject the fiend’s offer.

But Diran said nothing. The priest only stared at the demon wearing the face of a young boy, his gaze dark, jaw clenched as if he were struggling to hold back his voice. He made no move to reach into his vest pocket and remove his silver arrowhead. His arms remained slack at his sides, hands empty.

Ghaji couldn’t believe it. Was Diran actually
considering
the demon’s offer?

The demon, like a hunter sensing weakness in its prey, pressed on. “I can tell you much more if you wish, priest. I can reveal to you secrets about Emon Gorsedd, about your teacher Tusya … secrets
that would completely shatter your views of them and forever change the way you see yourself. It will be my great privilege to share my knowledge with you … for a price.”

Ghaji knew that all it took to seal a bargain with a demon was a single word of assent. Sometimes, with the most powerful demons, even speaking aloud wasn’t necessary; simply the
desire
to make the bargain was enough.