The Divided Knight - Chapter Thirty-Two

Atraxos the Black smiled to himself when he sensed the trap spring. While it did mean that he no longer had a wyvern to call upon, it also meant that Thaddeus was now alone. Had Atraxos's trap killed Thaddeus's Spellbreaker whore and the unholy abomination the Sprite in the Vault had helped create? That hardly mattered. Dead or alive, they were beyond anyone's reach, now, trapped in the empty, black void that existed between the different planes of reality. If they weren't dead, they would go mad, so – more because any thoughts about what conscious existence in the Void were something even Atraxos found disturbing than out of any real feeling for Thaddeus's companions – he hoped they were dead. He also hoped that, in the moments before they died, they had had time to realize the true horror of what defying someone like Atraxos the Black entailed.

Atraxos was beyond the Gates of Eclipse, now, walking through a series of tunnels that led ever downward, deeper and deeper into and under the mountain. The magic that surrounded him, here, was ancient and powerful. That made sense, though – according to Eltaran myth, the Mountains of the Moon were the place the Eltarans had emerged into the world, and it was only natural that there was strong magic, here. Of course the True would choose this place to hide the Amulet of Adarion, and Atraxos cursed himself for not reasoning that fact out on his own long ago. But how far would he have to go until he found the chamber that held the Amulet? And what if he ran into something unexpected on the way? I am one of the Demon Lords, Atraxos thought. Unexpected or not, nothing can stand in my way.

“I see you lost the wyvern.”

It was Solanas, again, appearing in mid-air before him. He didn't look quite as ethereal as he had back in Aldraden – the spell that allowed him to appear no doubt boosted by the magic within the mountain – but he was no more there, now, than he had been, before. Atraxos tried to banish him, to disrupt the spell that cast his image, but he couldn't pinpoint it. Which, despite the amount of magical energy that surrounded him, should not have been possible. How could a god be blind to a single, simple spell?

“You're no god, Atraxos,” Solanas said. “And you never will be, either. You're going to die here, you know.”

“Why can't you just stay dead, Solanas?” Atraxos asked. He started walking, again, Solanas's image continuing to float in the air in front of him.

“Stay dead? I am dead, Atraxos. Dead, and forever safe from you.”

“Once I free the rest of the Demon Lords, no soul will be safe any longer. The Divine Council is long since gone and the Nightslayers are extinct. We will have dominion over everything, and nothing will be able to stop us.” Atraxos smiled. “Perhaps, once my ascendancy is complete, I will make your soul my personal thrall. Wouldn't that be poetic?”

“The Nightslayers aren't extinct, Atraxos. One of them stalks you even now.”

“Thaddeus Alvarem is no Nightslayer.”

“Oh? And what is it, then, that makes one a Nightslayer?”

Atraxos didn't answer right away. “Surely something you never possessed, Solanas,” he said at last. “We wouldn't be having this conversation, otherwise.”

Solanas looked stricken for a moment, but the moment was fleeting. “You're right, of course,” he said. “Thaddeus does have something I never did. He has a family. He has people who love him as much as he loves them. He would do anything for them. Even something I never could.”

“That may be so, but it doesn't matter. I will reach the Amulet before he does. I will use it. I will open the Sundered Halls and free the Demon Lords. And, when I do, the power of the Amulet will be no more. Without the power of the Amulet, Thaddeus can never be a Nightslayer. Never.”

Solanas's looked disappointed. “You always assume so much, Atraxos. You always think you know so much more than everyone else. Atraxos, no one knows everything, and only a fool would believe anything else. Can you not be a fool, Atraxos? Just this once? Even now, you can turn around and avoid the fate that awaits you if you go any further.”

Atraxos stopped, looking at Solanas's ethereal form through narrowed eyes. “You're pitiful, Solanas,” he said. “You were when you were alive, and you still are, now. You pretend to care about what happens to others when all you care about is yourself. Making you a thrall will be a pleasure beyond words. Old friend.”

“That will never happen, Atraxos. You'll learn the truth of that before long. Farewell, Brother.”

“You were never my brother!” Atraxos roared, but it was too late. Solanas was gone.

With a snarl, Atraxos quickened his pace, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. Nothing that Solanas had said should have affected him this much, and yet it had, a fact which only added to Atraxos's rage and disgust. And, just as it hadn't been back in Aldraden, that hadn't even been Solanas – it had only been a spell, an image left behind in an infantile attempt to torment Atraxos in the moments before he claimed his final victory. Just because the image in Aldraden had been right about the wyvern – a fact Atraxos hadn't discovered until it was almost too late, but which had given him the idea for the trap he had set for Thaddeus – didn't mean the image he had encountered, here, was something that should be trusted. And yet Atraxos couldn't deny the way it had made him feel – the way Solanas had always made him feel, like he was something inferior, a misguided soul who, instead of being feared, should be pitied for not understanding just how wrong he was. He never understood, Atraxos thought, his lips curling. No one ever has. They soon will, though. And, when they do, they will fear me. They will!

Up ahead, the tunnel Atraxos was in ended in what looked like some kind of door. Based on what Atraxos was sensing, the source of the magical energy in this place was in the room on the other side of that door. The Amulet was no doubt in that room, as well – where else would it be if not there? Knowing that door was likely warded, Atraxos forced himself to slow his approach, coming to a stop when he was about a foot from it. He tried probing the door with his magical senses in order to determine what kind of ward protected it, but was frustrated by finding himself still distracted by his encounter with Solanas's image. Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, Atraxos used techniques he had thought that, now that he was one of the Demon Lords, he would never have to use again to clear his mind and focus his thoughts. It took longer than it should have – Damn you, Solanas! – but, at last, Atraxos was able to center his mind enough to probe the door. And was surprised to find that it wasn't warded, at all.

Atraxos frowned in puzzlement. Why leave the door unwarded? Without wards, anyone could step into the room beyond and learn its secrets. If that room held everything Atraxos was sure it did, leaving it so vulnerable made no sense. Unless it's a trap. But, even if it is, can it really harm me? I'm no mere mortal, any longer. His mind made up, Atraxos reached out and laid his hand on the door, which immediately crumbled to dust. After waiting a moment to be sure nothing was going to trigger, Atraxos stepped into the room beyond.

The first thing Atraxos saw was a bookshelf stuffed to the bursting with scrolls. A spell surrounded the shelf and its contents, protecting them from the passage of time. Though he knew there was great knowledge to be found among the scrolls on that shelf, Atraxos saw nothing on it that looked like it could have been the Amulet, and so he dismissed it. Turning to the side, he was confronted by the sight of a simple, wood-framed bed with a straw mattress. A partially mummified corpse lay on the bed, wrapped in a blanket. A quick probe of it with his magic told Atraxos the corpse had been female, and that she had been dead for more than a thousand years. Who were you, I wonder?

Atraxos looked back toward the bookshelf, then focused his attention past it. On the far side of the room, a marble archway had been built into the wall, and, as Atraxos watched, it pulsed with a faint, blue light. Moving further into the room, Atraxos stepped around the bookshelf and approached the archway. Here was the source of the magic he felt. And then he saw the darkness the archway framed – a darkness he had thought was nothing more than the entrance to another room – move, rippling like the surface of a pond, even seeming to bulge toward him a bit, as if reaching to pull him in.

This was the entrance to the Sundered Halls. It had to be. On the other side of that restless, rippling darkness, the remaining Demon Lords sensed Atraxos's presence. They called to him, pleading for him to set them free. But, without the Amulet, how could he? Then he saw the box, black, seamless, gleaming in the soft, yellow magelight that lit the room. It sat just in front of the archway, almost expectant in its placement, and Atraxos grinned as he looked upon it. He probed it with his magic. And then frowned.

The box had been sealed by a spell that made it impossible for one person to open. A Spellbreaker could have gotten around that, but Spellbreaking was a talent Atraxos didn't possess. Wasn't he one of the Demon Lords, though? Shouldn't breaking a spell have been child's play for someone like him? Atraxos hurled a fireball at the box in frustration, snarling in rage when the flames left it untouched. Was this how things would end, then? With victory all but in his grasp only for him to fail because he was alone?

Something tickled the edge of his awareness. It was Thaddeus, and he was coming. He was alone, now, too, and, while powerful, was no Nightslayer. Thaddeus would put up a fight, of course, but, in the end, Atraxos would have his way, and would make Thaddeus help him open the box before killing him. Laughing at the thought, Atraxos settled down to wait.