The Sin War Box Set: Birthright, Scales of the Serpent, and The Veiled Prophet (10 page)

Slumping against a tree, Mendeln tried to understand what was happening to him. The blackouts, the dirt on his fingers, and finally the voice and the vision—they all pointed at madness.

Yet, what he had witnessed around his brother could have also been called that. Certainly, Uldyssian had appeared to think so.

And Uldyssian had clearly been wrong. Mendeln carried proof of that himself. The savage scar left by the whip was no more. It had healed, possibly during the brothers’ flight from Seram. Certainly, by the time they had stopped for the night, it had utterly vanished.

Although the night air was cool, Mendeln felt the sweat dripping down his face. Wiping it away, he tried to calm himself. His brother needed him more than ever. He had to focus only on that. Only on—

He was being watched.

Mendeln spun to his right and in that moment glimpsed a figure in black robes and what seemed an odd, segmented armor. The face was utterly obscured by a tremendous hood.

Then, just as with the shade of Cyrus…the figure was no longer there.

It was too much for him. Whirling back in the direction of the camp, Mendeln started to run.

A huge shape dropped down from the trees, landing on all fours in front of the farmer. Even crouched, it was nearly as high at the shoulder as Mendeln was tall and when it stood, even hunched over it was more than half again his height.

The thing opened a mouth much like a frog’s. The dim moonlight could not hide from the human the row upon row of daggerlike teeth and the thick tongue darting from within. Above, half a dozen black orbs glistened with an unholy light of their own.

“Meeeeaatttt…” it rasped, extending two appendages ending in sharp claws as long as the human’s hand. Behind the monstrosity, a thick tail thumped eagerly against the ground. “Cooommme toooo mmmmeeee, mmmmeeeeaaaatttt…”

Mendeln had no intention of obeying, but his body evidently had other, more horrific notions in mind. First one foot, then another, slowly, inexorably, dragged him toward the waiting talons of the fiend.

A stench filled his nostrils, the smell of what seemed a hundred years’ worth of rotting carrion. The thing waited as he neared it. It could have already ripped out his throat or disemboweled him, but from its rapid breathing clearly enjoyed the fear rushing through its victim.

Mendeln wanted to cry out, but could not. However, as the creature loomed over him, its maw dripping with saliva, an image flashed through Mendeln’s mind, an image of symbols familiar to him. They were akin to those on the ancient stone to which Achilios had led him, with some new ones mixed between. Oddly, where last time he had utterly failed to make any sense of them, now Mendeln knew how to pronounce each.

Which he did without urging.

The giant creature suddenly let out a snarl of confusion. It turned from Mendeln, looking past him. One taloned appendage thrust just next to the stunned human. The beast sniffed the air, its mood clearly much angrier.

Only then did the farmer realize that the fiend was now
blind
…

Mendeln also realized that he controlled his movements again. Not questioning his good fortune, he cautiously stepped to the opposite side. The beast turned, but away from him. Holding his breath, Mendeln took another step further on.

He must have made some sound, for the fiend spun in his direction and swiped the air with one massive paw. Although Mendeln moved as quickly as he could, the tips of one talon caught the sleeve of his garment. He twirled helplessly in a circle before crashing to the ground. At the same time, his mind for some reason took objection to the fact that the demon could hear. Somehow, Mendeln felt that the blindness should have been accompanied by a deafness as well.

The creature reached for him—

There was a shout and then the hiss of an arrow. Mendeln heard a thump, followed by a furious snarl from his inhuman attacker. He felt the beast turn from him.

“Move, Mendeln!” Achilios called. “Move!”

He obeyed, but not without shouting back, “The eyes! It is blind for the moment, but shoot the eyes!”

Likely he had not had to tell the trained hunter what to do, but Achilios had saved him and Mendeln owed his friend what little aid that he could give. The sudden sightlessness of the beast was the only advantage that they had at the moment, if even that could be called so.

“Mmmooorrree mmmmeeeaaatttt…” mocked the thing. “Wheerrre arrre yyyyooou?”

Achilios let loose with another arrow, but although blind, his target somehow sensed it coming and moved aside. The wooden shaft bounced harmlessly off its scaled hide. Mendeln saw only then that the first bolt stuck in the monster just under the arm, where the flesh was less covered. Achilios had been fortunate with that initial attempt; the rest of the creature’s form was very much protected.

As the archer readied another shot, the abomination leapt like a frog in his general direction. However, from the monster’s side, Serenthia lunged forward, gripped in both hands a thick, burning branch from the fire. Had the giant been able to see, she would have surely perished, but instead the blindness enabled the trader’s daughter to bring the flames right against the vulnerable orbs.

A howl that tore into the very core of Mendeln’s soul ripped through the area. A new stench filled the air, that of burning flesh.

The injured fiend swung wildly. Serenthia could not escape his reach. His talons slashed her back. She crumpled, then lay still.

“Serry!” Like a man possessed, Achilios fired upon the beast. This time, he caught it in one of the other orbs. The giant howled anew, then tore the shaft from the ruined socket.

As it turned again on the hunter, Mendeln realized that its sight had come back. With that also returned another danger, one of which only he was aware.

“Look not in its eyes, Achilios!” he shouted desperately. “It will draw you to it, then!”

His warning came too late. Achilios stiffened, the bow dropping from his hands. The hunter’s arms went slack and he stood motionless before the oncoming horror. The beast laughed—a terrible, grating sound—then reached for the helpless tidbit.

But the talons halted just before Achilios, unable to touch the prey. The next moment, the earth beneath the fiendish creature seemed to liquefy. It tried to pull back, but its legs only sank deeper into the soil.

The beast looked around for an immediate cause, but found none. “Wwwwhatttt?” it roared. “Wwwhhhhooo?”

Its gaze fixed upon Mendeln, the only one in sight. Without thinking, he shook his head in denial of responsibility. Nonetheless, the scaled horror tried to turn toward him, the better to focus its hypnotic gaze.

As it did, the liquid earth now rose up its legs, as if impatient to take the beast. Mendeln suddenly forgotten, the creature struggled to remove itself…but to no avail.

The ground crawled ever upward, quickly enveloping the torso. One set of talons tore at it, only to become ensnared as if in solidifying honey. The trapped beast tried to use its other talons to pull free the one limb, only to have that also caught.

Within seconds, all that remained uncovered was the grotesque head. The creature twisted its head upward, then rasped, “Ggggrrreaaatttt Llllucionnnn! Ssssavvve yyyyyooourrr llloyyyyall ssssservvvvannnttt! Gggggreeeeaaattt Llllucionnn! Ssssavvvve! Grreeeatttt—”

With one last swift effort, the ground sealed over the froglike mouth, finally entombing its victim.

Achilios let out a grunt, shook, then dropped to his knees. Mendeln cautiously rose, not completely confident that the monster was no more. At last, he moved to Serenthia’s side and gingerly inspected the wounds. They were horribly deep, but at least she was still alive. How long that would be, though—

“I’ll see to her, Mendeln, don’t you worry,” Uldyssian’s voice suddenly said.

The elder brother stood on the opposite side of the stricken woman. Mendeln eyed his brother with almost as much surprise as he had the beast. Despite the night, Uldyssian stood perfectly visible, as if a light within illuminated him. He was bare-chested, but seemed unmoved by the cool air.

There was a look in Uldyssian’s face, a look that Mendeln could not read but that somehow made him feel more insignificant than ever. As his brother knelt down by Serenthia, Mendeln involuntarily slunk back, as if not worthy to be so close at such a time.

Seemingly ignorant of his brother’s reaction, Uldyssian placed his hands palm-down an inch or so above Serenthia’s torn back. He then stared at the wounds, while Mendeln watched in wonder and curiosity.

And as the younger brother watched, each of the terrible, crimson valleys healed themselves. The ends first tapered, drawing the wounds together as if by invisible needle and thread. The slashes themselves then shrank rapidly, in many cases going from over a foot long to a bare scar in less than three beats of Mendeln’s racing heart.

One more beat…and Serenthia’s back became completely unmarred again.

A slight moan escaped her. She started to move. Nodding in satisfaction, Uldyssian stepped back, the light within seeming to fade now.

It was Achilios, naturally, who proved to have the presence of mind to remove his own shirt and cover Serenthia as she started to rise. Mendeln, meanwhile, stood up to face his brother.

“What…what did you just do?”

“What had to be done, of course.” Uldyssian looked at him as if Mendeln had asked why crops needed rain.

“But…
how?”
The younger son of Diomedes shook his head. “No, that is not what I mean…Uldyssian…everything that happened in Seram…
was
that you?”

Now seeming more as Mendeln knew him, Uldyssian slowly nodded. “It must’ve been.” He nodded toward the macabre monument that was all that remained of the abomination. “And that, I won’t deny doing.”

“What
was
that thing?” snapped Achilios, still holding a stunned Serenthia. “Those talons…and those eyes…”

It was Lylia who answered, Lylia appearing behind Uldyssian almost as abruptly as he had moments earlier. The noblewoman wrapped her arms possessively around Mendeln’s brother, saying, “It is the murderer they sought in Seram, obviously. The fiend that slew the two missionaries. What else could it be?”

Uldyssian, Achilios, and Serenthia took her answer to heart and even Mendeln had to admit that it was an obvious statement. Certainly, the condition of the one acolyte’s corpse made sense when seeing the horrible talons. The creature was also cunning, even speaking the tongue of men with ease. Surely it had frozen each victim with its gaze, then done its foul work. It also moved extremely fast, which would explain the short time between the murders.

Yet, he found himself not entirely convinced. More to the point, something else about the abomination disturbed him. “But how does it come to be here? We are far from Seram.”

“Why, it followed Uldyssian, naturally! After all, everyone thought that he was the one to blame. If it slew him, then no suspicion of its foul existence would remain!”

Again, another reasonable explanation, but for some reason Mendeln could not see the creature pursuing Uldyssian so far just for that. There had never been any suggestion by either the village or the Master Inquisitor that such an unnatural beast could be responsible. Everyone had thought of the murderer as human and far too many had assumed it to be Uldyssian.

Something else came to mind. “It
called
to somebody,” he blurted. “At the end, it called to somebody.”

“Aye,” interjected Achilios as he helped Serenthia to stand. “I heard it, too.”

Lylia’s grip on Uldyssian tightened. “It was nothing.”

But the elder son of Diomedes nodded to Mendeln. “I heard, too, but the name escaped me.”

Mendeln concentrated, reliving the moment. “Great…Great
Lucion
. Lucion.” For some reason, merely speaking it made him shudder. “That was the name.”

Unfortunately, knowing it meant nothing to him, nor did he see any recognition on the faces of anyone else. Not even when Mendeln studied Lylia’s as close—and as surreptitiously—as possible did he see any hint of knowledge.

“He must be with one of the mage clans,” Uldyssian suddenly declared, his eyes brightening dangerously. “The murdered ones were emissaries from the Temple and the Cathedral. Who else would hunt such?”

“Yes,” Lylia immediately agreed, sounding to Mendeln’s ears almost pleased with his brother’s quick thinking. “The mage clans. Surely them. Do you not agree, Mendeln?”

She gave him a smile such as he had seen her so far reserve only for his brother. Mendeln felt himself flush.

“The mage clans,” he blurted, nodding at the same time. “Of course.” Yet, Mendeln wondered why any of the mage clans, so desperate to hold their own against each other, would bother with two lowly emissaries in a backwater village.

Everyone else seemed satisfied. Uldyssian looked around at the others as if they were his children. “We can worry about that later. This only proves my decision the right one.”

Mendeln had a bad feeling. “Your decision?”

“Seram is part of my past now, not my present or future.” As Uldyssian spoke, Lylia—leaving one arm around his waist—moved to his side. “I never asked for this, but something’s granted me a gift—”