Darkblade Savior Read online

  The Hunter narrowed his eyes at the weapons Taiana had taken from the dead Elivasti. They were clearly weapons intended for war, not for scratching away at hard-packed earth and stony ground. Are these the best tools they have? The whole situation struck him as strange. These were Bucelarii, war-bred and trained creatures like him that had fought in the War of Gods, not grubby miners.

  There has to be a better way to go about this than digging tunnels. Cerran had mentioned resonator stones, and though the Hunter wasn’t certain where to find one, surely that ought to take priority. Perhaps the Elivasti had the stones that would grant them access. He could use his abilities to shift his features to sneak into their stronghold and find them. The plan had worked with the Sage’s Elivasti in Kara-ket and the Lecterns in the House of Need.

  He strode over to the glass door for a closer look at the fist-sized, transparent square gemstone. It was the only unique feature on the wall, the only thing not emanating the same blue glow that leaked from the walls and ceiling of the room.

  His brow furrowed. That’s strange. The color of the stone reminded him of the gemstone set in Soulhunger’s hilt. Could it be?

  Drawing the dagger, he studied the jewel nestled in the claw-like pommel, then back at the transparent stone. It seemed identical. Could it be some sort of locking mechanism like the Lectern had described back in Vothmot? Hesitant, he moved the dagger closer to the stone.

  Soulhunger’s pommel hovered a finger’s breadth from the gemstone, so close he could feel the faint humming that coursed through the glowing walls. Yet the door remained silent and closed. He lowered the dagger, then an idea struck him. Perhaps the stones needed to touch to activate. He pressed the pommel against the transparent stone and held his breath.

  For an instant, nothing happened. He could feel the thrumming in the wall as the vibrations ran through Soulhunger’s gemstone and down the hilt. Without a sound, the door slid to one side. The Hunter was so shocked he could only stare open-mouthed down at Soulhunger, then up at the open doorway.

  He’d hated the dagger for so long, had hated the voice in his mind, the relentless driving urge to kill. He’d almost thrown it away half a dozen times since Voramis. Yet now, after everything he’d endured, to find that it was the key to freeing his kind struck him as a cruel irony.

  “Taiana?” he called over his shoulder. “You’ll want to see this.”

  “What is i—?” Her voice cut off in a sharp intake of breath. She rushed to his side. “How did you do that?”

  He held up Soulhunger so she could see the crystal clear jewel set into its hilt. “The gemstone.”

  Taiana snatched the dagger from his hands with such speed he had no time to react. He didn’t remember her being that fast.

  “It must be a resonator stone,” she breathed as she studied the gemstone. She pressed it against the locking mechanism again, and the door slid shut without a sound, then open again when she repeated it. She whirled on him with excitement burning in her eyes. “Do you know what this means?”

  “Please tell me it means we don’t have to do any more bloody digging!” Cerran said from behind them.

  “This changes everything!” Wonder filled her voice. “To think, after all this time, it was the Im’tasi all along.”

  “You never tried with yours?” the Hunter asked. He’d been here all of ten minutes, and though it had been a lucky guess, he couldn’t imagine the idea would never have crossed her mind. If the weapon she inherited from her Abiarazi forefathers resembles mine—

  “I have not seen it since…before.” Sorrow flashed in her eyes.

  “Before?” The Hunter’s brow furrowed. “Before what?”

  She shuddered, and the shadow passed over her eyes again. “Before the Warmaster locked me in a Chamber of Sustenance.”

  The Hunter’s eyes went wide. The Warmaster? His mind whirled as he tried to comprehend her words.

  The Warmaster had been the Sage’s Abiarazi rival in Kara-ket, and he’d commanded the Masters of Agony, the Einan-renowned torturers. Yet the huge demon had said nothing of Enarium beyond hinting at it being the source of his opia supply. And, with the curse of the Serenii on the Empty Mountains, how could he have come to Enarium without being driven insane and transformed into one of the Stone Guardians?

  “We will speak of it later.” A note of finality echoed in her voice. “For now, let us take advantage of our newfound fortune and search the Keep for any sign of our surviving brethren.”

  “What of the boy?” the Hunter demanded. “You said you’d help me.”

  “And I will,” Taiana said. “But first, we need to—”

  “We need to get out of here,” Cerran said. The man had gone silent, rigid, his grip on the spikestaff in his hand so tight his knuckles had turned white. “Now!”

  In that moment, the Hunter’s keen ears detected a faint sound. It came from above him, quiet enough that it took effort for him to recognize it. Voices.

  “Elivasti!” Cerran hissed. “What are they doing here?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Taiana pressed Soulhunger to the locking mechanism to close the door, then handed the dagger back to the Hunter. “We cannot be discovered. We will go now, but return another time.”

  Cerran was already moving, ducking into the narrow tunnel and scrabbling into the darkness. Taiana followed, while the Hunter brought up the rear. He hated the idea of fleeing, even from the Elivasti. He’d seen enough of their skill-at-arms on Kara-ket to have developed a deep respect for them, but he was not afraid. They wielded weapons of steel, not the iron-tipped staves they’d carried on Shana Laal. He could evade their Scorchslayers, and the close quarters would hinder their aim.

  He hesitated, glancing back over his shoulder. I just need one alive long enough to tell me where Hailen is being held.

  “Drayvin!”

  He couldn’t ignore that voice. He’d come all this way to find her, and couldn’t bear to be separated from her again. She had said she would help him find Hailen, so he had to trust her, the woman that had been his wife.

  But what if I can’t? Doubt nagged at him as he crawled through the tunnel. She was hiding something from him. The question is, what?

  He wanted to believe that she would help him, that she would join him in his quest to rescue Hailen. But assumptions like that had nearly killed him in the past. He couldn’t act on blind faith. He had to keep both eyes open, even though he ached to lose himself in the momentary happiness at being reunited with his wife. Decades as an assassin had taught him to be skeptical of anything.

  Yet if I can’t trust her, is there anyone in the world I can trust? A feeling of utter loneliness washed over him at the thought.

  He followed Taiana and Cerran as they ran through the secret passages. At the first intersection they encountered, they turned to the right, up the incline that led to the Medial Echelon, the second level of Enarium. They moved with hardly a sound and kept up a steady pace. Yet the Hunter found himself casting occasional glances backward as if expecting to see blue-armored Elivasti flooding the tunnels in pursuit.

  Only silence and darkness met his gaze.

  Chapter Five

  The tunnel ended at another cellar, as empty as the one they’d used to enter the passages honeycombing Enarium. The Hunter followed Taiana and Cerran up the stairs to the ground floor. The interior of this home showed similar signs of life—decorative vases, colorful blankets and throw rugs, and a few handcrafted sculptures—again in a state of suspended existence, as if the occupants had just stepped out a few moments ago. Every surface was free of dust, all but the faint traces left by their boots.

  Cerran padded to the front door and shot a wary glance up and down the street. “Usual route home?” he asked Taiana.

  “Only if it’s clear.” Taiana moved to stand beside him. “The Elivasti will find their dead comrades soon enough. We need to be off the streets by then.”

  “Understood.” With a nod, Cerran slipped out into the stre
et and ran for a few hundred yards before ducking into a narrow lane.

  Taiana turned to the Hunter. “You’re up. Make it quick. The Elivasti don’t keep a routine with their patrols, so we can’t know how soon the next one will come.”

  “You first.” The Hunter shook his head. “I may not know the city as well as you do, but I’ve got more than enough practice sneaking around.”

  And, this way, I can keep an eye on you. He wanted to be on hand to help if she ran into a patrol, but he’d rather watch his own back.

  “I’ll be right behind you.” The Hunter folded his arms. “With Soulhunger ready in case of trouble.”

  She fixed him with a stern gaze and seemed ready to argue. Yet something within her eyes shifted and stopped her from speaking. Did she worry that he planned to disappear on her?

  “You asked me to trust you, Taiana. Now it’s your turn to trust me to watch your back.”

  The hard edge of her expression softened a fraction and she nodded. “Wait ten seconds, then follow me into the alley.” She looked like she was going to say something more, but changed her mind before she spoke. With a nod, she slipped out into the streets.

  The Hunter watched her go. She was very different from the Taiana he remembered. A lot more flinty edges than the woman in my dreams. It would take some getting used to. Hopefully, he’d have the time to reacquaint himself with the woman that had been his wife. With the Withering so close, he couldn’t be certain. Hailen and the Sage had to be his priorities. So where does that leave me and Taiana?

  Anxiety wormed into his mind as he slipped out of the house and followed toward the alley where Cerran and Taiana had disappeared. Would he like what he discovered about her?

  He pushed the thought out of his mind and focused on his surroundings. He scanned every street he passed for signs of movement, but Enarium seemed absolutely devoid of life.

  His attention went to the city itself. The houses of the Medial Echelon were similar to those on the Base Echelon, though taller—most between two and four floors, with a few reaching five or six. In addition to the single broad thoroughfare ringing the city tier, there were smaller, parallel avenues that ran the circumference and more adjoining streets that descended to the Base Echelon or ascended to the Prime Echelon.

  Cerran and Taiana were waiting for him in the alley, and they continued on their way without another word. They were tense, wary, but not fearful. Doubtless they had made the journey enough times that they knew how to spot or evade patrols.

  After a circuitous trek toward the northeast of the city, Taiana led them toward a building taller than those that surrounded it. In addition to five floors made of the silver and gold-threaded white marble, there was a sixth floor with broad windows made of the same mirrored-glass the Hunter had encountered in Kara-ket.

  Taiana entered the four-story building beside it, slid between the two houses, and ducked into what looked like a storm cellar.

  Cerran closed the trap door behind them, plunging the cellar into darkness. The Hunter tensed, his hand on Soulhunger’s hilt. No one would take him unawares in the darkness. He could fight blind if he had to.

  A moment later, light streamed from a glass globe Taiana produced from a pouch at waist. The faint glow revealed a small space with three hard-packed earth walls and wooden support beams. Wooden barrels and crates were piled high on one side of the subterranean chamber, while the other side contained only ancient shelves upon which sat an assortment of gardening equipment.

  The Hunter tried to hide his nervous tension as he followed the two Bucelarii around the stored barrels. Cerran twitched aside a hanging canvas to reveal another tunnel, which ran for fifteen paces before ending at a blank wall. A wooden ladder leaned against the wall, leading up through a hole in the earthen ceiling. Cerran climbed up the ladder first, and this time the Hunter allowed Taiana to bring up the rear.

  The ladder led up into another home, this one with far more elegant trappings, including a bloodwood cabinet, an ornate dining set carved from a pale grey stone the Hunter didn’t recognize, and something that looked like a massive bunch of glass grapes dangling from the high-vaulted ceiling. It looked like the grand chamber where a wealthy nobleman—or noble Serenii, if such a thing existed—would host a grand ball, like Lord and Lady Dannaros in Voramis. Yet no sound of music, laughter, or merriment met his ears. Instead of twinkling lights and festive colors, the vast chamber was filled with only darkness and silence.

  “Come,” Taiana said as she strode past him. “Let us see if Arudan’s study has uncovered anything of use.”

  The Hunter followed her through the grand chamber, up a broad staircase to the second floor, and along a balcony overlooking the main level. On closer inspection, the Hunter realized the odd-looking glass grapes were actually some sort of chandelier.

  Taiana stopped at the first door along the balcony, which stood open. Within, the Hunter saw a sort of sitting room, complete with carved stone benches covered with thick cushions, a picture window of the same glass as on the uppermost level, and wooden shelves running the length of the room. A pile of stone tablets lay strewn across the hardwood floor, as if dropped by a careless hand. The Hunter’s eyes widened as he recognized Serenii runes etched into the tablets’ surfaces.

  A large stone table dominated the heart of the room. It had been carved with the sort of masterful skill impossible on Einan. Most tables of stone were impossibly thick, for stone was prone to cracking without adequate support. Yet this table was made of a bright green stone that resembled a blend of emeralds and marble, barely as thick as his index finger. He tested it with a finger, expecting it to break, only to find it as solid as the stone beneath his feet.

  A man leaned over the table, his brow furrowed in concentration. He had not a single hair on his entire face, not even eyebrows or facial hair. His skin was so pale it was almost translucent, and when he straightened, he stood nearly a full head taller than the Hunter. Even stranger, instead of the bronze armor that Kalil and Cerran wore, robes the dull brown of a Secret Keeper hung from his bony shoulders and gaunt frame.

  His scent reminded the Hunter of Graeme, his alchemist friend in Voramis. He reeked of strong chemical mixtures, yet underscored with rose oil and lavender. A strange scent, yet the strangest thing about him was his eyes—the same midnight black eyes that marked him a Bucelarii.

  The fifth Bucelarii. He knew he shouldn’t be surprised to find another Bucelarii working with Taiana, Cerran, and Kalil, but it was still such a strange thing to get used to. Until an hour earlier, he had been the last surviving member of his kind.

  “Who is this?” Arudan asked as he caught sight of the Hunter beside Taiana.

  “This is Drayvin,” Taiana said.

  “Drayvin, hmm?” The name seemed to register for a moment, then the man shrugged. “I suppose greetings are in order.”

  The Hunter raised an eyebrow. “You a Secret Keeper?”

  “Once.” Arudan gave a dismissive wave.

  “I thought the Secret Keepers cut out their priests’ tongues,” the Hunter said.

  “Mine grew back.” The pale, hairless man’s eyes grew unfocused and his gaze wandered aimlessly past the Hunter.

  “Arudan.” Taiana’s voice was sharp and firm, but not hard. “How goes our progress?”

  The words seemed to pull the man back from wherever his mind had gone. “Progress?” His brow furrowed as he looked at Taiana, then his black eyes brightened and he smiled. “Ahh, yes, progress, of course!”

  He gestured toward the stack of books on the ground. “From what I have uncovered, we should be able to collect the harvest well before the autumn chill. The Serenii had a fascinating method for speeding up growth using the power of the sun to—”

  The Hunter raised an eyebrow at the man’s strange answer.

  Taiana’s face hardened. “Arudan, did you get distracted again?”

  The pale-skinned man’s brow furrowed. “Distracted?”

  Taiana wa
lked over to the ancient-looking stone tablets and studied one. She discarded it back onto the pile, then lifted another and turned to Arudan. “You were supposed to be looking into how to get into the Keeps, not reading about the harvest.”

  “Oh.” Arudan’s face fell, and embarrassment glittered in his black eyes. “I-I am sorry, Taiana. It seems I…er…forgot.”

  “No, it’s fine, Arudan.” Taiana drew in a long breath, and her expression became that of a longsuffering parent as she handed the tablet to the man. “But I need you to find out as much as you can about the Keeps. Can you do that for me?” She rested a hand on his shoulder.

  The Hunter had heard that gentle tone before; Ellinor had used it with Little Arrlo, and he’d employed it himself when talking to Hailen.

  “It shall be done!” The pale man took the tablet from her with a grin. “I will not rest until I find what we need.”

  Taiana smiled and squeezed the man’s bony shoulder. “Thank you, Arudan. But first, I need you to take a look at this.” She turned to the Hunter and held out a hand. “May I?”

  The Hunter stared at her, not understanding what she wanted.

  “Thanal Eth’ Athaur,” she said.

  The Hunter hesitated a moment. The discovery that Soulhunger’s gemstone could serve as a resonator stone to the Keeps had clearly excited Taiana, but he wasn’t certain what she intended to do with the dagger.

  “I just want Arudan to take a look at it,” she said, her eyes meeting his. “If he can confirm that the gemstone truly is the resonator stone we seek, it would greatly accelerate our efforts.”

  The Hunter drew Soulhunger and handed it to the woman, who passed it to the pale-skinned man.

  “Hmm,” Arudan mused as he stared down at the dagger. “Hmmmmmm?” He drew out the sound of his musings to an irritating length, which only added to the strangeness of his pale skin, his precise manner of speaking, and his habit of losing focus.

  The man gripped the blade in long, slim fingers and toyed with the gemstone. He drew a two-pronged U-shaped steel bar from the clutter piled on the table, and when he tapped it against the table, it produced a low hum. The moment he placed one of the steel prongs against Soulhunger’s gemstone, the humming grew loud enough that it seemed to echo from the walls of the room.