Nightslayer - Postlude

 

From nearby – but unseen to everyone – the Bespectacled Man watched and smiled. Everything had gone better than he could have imagined, and, now, there were new gods in the world – and not just in this world, but in the totality of the cosmos. For that was what had been broken by the Cataclysm – the cosmos, itself – and there were now many worlds where life existed. Previous iterations of the Divine Council had discovered this, of course, and had even created the Halls of Twilight to bolster what was left, but now, beings walked who might be able to remake what had been broken.

The Bespectacled Man didn’t know if they would succeed. First, they had to try and stop Hel – who, the Bespectacled Man now remembered, had been called Emily in the days before the Cataclysm – and she already had a head start on them. If she found the book the Key was hidden in – the Bespectacled Man wished he could remember who had named that book The Seven Points of Night, but he thought there was something very familiar about its title – then she could open the Gate. And that would bring about the Final Doom. Once that happened, nothing could be done to save what was left. All of it would be reduced to ashes, including – despite her belief that what was imprisoned beyond the Gate would grant her powers beyond imagining – Hel, herself.

The Bespectacled Man – Geoffrey – wanted to stay and see what would happen, but, now that the true Divine Council had been reborn, his time was over. It was his turn, now, to join Aaron – and all the others of their kind who had come before them – in the endless sleep of oblivion. Maybe there was an afterlife – maybe Geoffrey would be reunited with those he cared for the most, as, long ago, before the Cataclysm, he had once believed – but, even if there wasn’t, death, for him, could no longer be avoided. He had done his part, and now, it was time for him to rest.

Before departing into the Void for the last time, Geoffrey took a moment to think about what he had witnessed. Something – he knew not what – had come down and finished Zoe, Thaddeus, and Aylander’s transitions into the beings they had become. A part of that something had felt, to Geoffrey, very much like what was supposed to be imprisoned on the other side of the Gate. But what could it have been? There were no other powers like that one, no other beings. Unless, of course, they had all been wrong.

I guess I’ll never know, Geoffrey thought, taking his spectacles off and putting them into his pocket. He wouldn’t be needing them, anymore.

Turning, Geoffrey stepped back into the Void and pulled the door closed behind him. No one would ever open it, again.

Nightslayer - Chapter Fifty-Nine

 

Reforming the bridge across Gelevan Gorge was a surprisingly simple task. As the first bridge had been made, at least in part, by magical spells, all Garrold had to do was recall them. Once he’d done that, though nothing physical had been placed, yet, over the magical energies, all he had to do was walk across the Gorge. A Spellbreaker would have made this task more time consuming, and would have left Garrold more drained after he had reconstructed the spells from the residual energy, but, seeing as the Baron had no Spellbreakers in his employ, it took Garrold no time, at all.

Garrold cloaked himself in darkness the moment he reached the western side of the Gorge. One of the Baron’s Twisted Sword Priests might have been able to locate him, but, strangely, none of them were about – it was as if something else had attracted their attention. Garrold didn’t know what that might have been, but he did sense a great deal of magic being used near a slight rise a ways back from the edge of the Gorge, so he figured that that might have been it. In fact, he paused for a moment to look in that direction. Whatever was going on over there, it was intense, and involved other powers than normal magical spells. Maybe Thaddeus is over there, Garrold thought. Maybe he’s dealing with a Demon Lord that decided not to involve itself in the battle.

A part of Garrold wanted to go over and find out what was happening, but that was not why he was here. He was here to confront the Baron and bring an end to their rivalry once and for all. Did that mean the Baron would die? Garrold didn’t know, but he hoped not. Despite what the Baron had done, Garrold still felt that he could help with the reconstruction of the Empire. He just has to agree to listen to me. I hope that he will.

There was a large tent in the middle of the Baron’s camp. Garrold knew at once that the Baron was inside of it. Something had changed about the magical sense the Baron gave off, but he was still a mage, and his magic was concentrated within the tent. Garrold suddenly had a sense that the Baron was hiding – something had happened that frightened him greatly, making him feel almost powerless – and that sense was bolstered by the wards that had been placed around the tent. Garrold didn’t know if he could break those wards, but he felt he should at least try. If he failed, maybe he could talk to the Baron through them and get him to let him inside. Garrold walked up to the tent flap and reached out with his magic, probing the Baron’s wards for gaps.

There were no immediately obvious gaps. Garrold relaxed his probe. “Baron Vabarn?” he said. “Are you in there?”

There was no answer.

“Baron, I’ve come to talk,” Garrold said. “I mean you no harm, provided you let me into your tent. May I come in?”

Garrold waited for a moment, and then the wards around the Baron’s tent relaxed. Garrold stepped inside. The Baron sat at a wooden table, a mug of Telvan brandy in front of him. He looked washed out, broken, old. He had not regained his weight, however – that part of the spells which, previously, had hidden his true nature had not returned.

“Are you here to kill me, Garrold?” the Baron asked. He did not look up as he spoke.

“Only if I have to, Tymothe,” Garrold said. “Something’s changed about you. What happened?”

The Baron looked up at him. “A god appeared to me, Garrold,” he said. “A god. He stripped way my powers to command the dead. He broke me.” He looked back down at his mug of brandy. “And made me realize how incredibly stupid I have been.”

“This god may have stripped way your powers to command the dead,” Garrold said, “but he left your other powers intact. The wards around this tent speak to that. And who among us has never done something they later regretted? Tymothe, do you understand that, in the strictest sense, you did nothing wrong? You intended to take King Lyrian’s place. You intended to preserve the kingdom. Those are the acts of a true patriot.”

“I courted dark powers to do it, though, Garrold.” The Baron looked up. “How can anyone forgive such a thing?”

Garrold walked over and sat across the table for the Baron. He grabbed a spare mug and poured himself a brandy of his own. “It is a difficult thing,” he said, taking a sip, “but difficult does not necessarily mean impossible. Would you be willing to swear fealty to me, Baron?”

The Baron snorted. “Fealty? Garrold, I deserve to be hanged.”

“That’s for me to decide, though, isn’t it?” Garrold said. “Swear fealty to me, agree to join my Council of Mages, and there will be no gibbet for you. You have my word.”

“What of Blanchart?”

“You will still be its Baron. A place on the Council wouldn’t strip of you any title.”

“And how can you be sure I wouldn’t do, again, what I tried to do this time?”

Garrold started at the Baron for a long time. “Are you an oathbreaker, Tymothe?” he asked.

“Never,” the Baron said.

“Then swear your oath to me, here and now, and I will never doubt you. What say you, Tymothe Vabarn? Will you swear fealty to the Magister of the Torvaran Empire?”

The Baron looked away for a moment and took a final sip from his mug of brandy. Then he looked up at Garrold and said, “I so swear, Your Grace. My sword is yours to command.”

Garrold smiled. “Thank you, Tymothe,” he said.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” the Baron said. He paused for a moment, studying him. “Your father would have been proud of you. As am I.”

“Just remember I forgave you, Baron,” Garrold said. “It would be unfortunate for you if you forgot.”

“I will, Your Grace. I will.”

The longer Thaddeus and Magnus fought, the more things Thaddeus came to realize. Some of the things he realized came through direct memory transfer – each time his sword clashed with Magnus’s, Thaddeus gained an insight into Magnus’s memory, and some of those insights made him question what he thought he knew about the man he thought of as the Hidden King. The Hidden King was supposed to be the leader of the Demon Lords. Even Hel, the Mother of Monsters and Queen of the Underworld, was supposed to bow to him. But, as Thaddeus fought him, he learned that these things were not necessarily true.

The first thing Thaddeus learned was how Hel had turned Magnus. It was not, he saw at once, all that different from the way she was trying to turn him. Magnus had been a Nightslayer, once – a good one, based on what Thaddeus was able to learn from his memories – but, in the end, had found it difficult to raise his sword against Hel. Hel had seduced him, of course, and, in so doing, had turned him to her cause, but had Thaddeus allowed himself to be so easily influenced? Was he so swayed by the temptation of flesh? While it was true that Hel was attractive – extremely so – was that enough in and of itself to make him turn?

Even if it wasn’t, though, could Thaddeus do anything about the path he had set himself on? That he would kill Magnus was a given – Magnus’s power was nowhere near Thaddeus’s, and defeating him would be relatively easy – but did that mean Thaddeus had to take Magnus’s place at Hel’s side? Yes, Thaddeus had already sworn himself to Hel, but oaths could be broken. Couldn’t they?

As he and Magnus fought, there were other memories that transferred to Thaddeus. What was the book Magnus kept thinking about, the one that was titled The Seven Points of Night? There was something extremely important about that book – especially about where it was located – and it was something Magnus had been guarding for a long, long time. Thaddeus wanted to know why – wished, even, that he had the chance to interrogate Magnus – but all he had now was the fight, the fight that, in the end, he was sure to win.

What would Thaddeus do once he’d won? Tell Hel what he’d learned, of course – but what else? Would he allow himself to become a thrall to her will the same way Magnus had? And what of Aylander and Zoe? Thaddeus knew that Hel would want him to kill both of them, but a part of him, deep down inside, didn’t want to do it. He didn’t understand why – not fully – but killing them would be something he was all but incapable of doing. Once Thaddeus had beaten Magnus, Hel could probably do it, herself, but, even then, Thaddeus didn’t know if he could allow her. Aylander was his brother, after all, and hadn’t at least a part of him loved Zoe? And did it even really matter? Hel would give Thaddeus rewards for killing Zoe and Aylander that no one else would have, in a thousand lifetimes, been able to give him.

Did that matter, though? Did it? Thaddeus found himself uncertain, which was something he didn’t like, at all. He didn’t allow his uncertainty to slow him down, however. He fought Magnus with everything he had, and, when Magnus began using magical attacks to bolster what he’d already been throwing at Thaddeus, Thaddeus countered them with magical attacks and defenses of his own. As they fought, and as it became more and more certain that Thaddeus was going to win, Thaddeus found himself caring less and less what Hel did for him once Magnus was dead. Going into this battle, all he had wanted was whatever reward she had to offer, but, now, as the end of the battle drew closer, he started to think about what Hel giving him that reward would mean. It would pin him to her side – much the same way as Magnus had been pinned since the time he was turned – and that was something Thaddeus couldn’t tolerate. He was meant for so much more than serving another person’s whims.

Thaddeus also understood that he was stronger than Magnus ever had been. Beating him – which was becoming more and more inevitable – wouldn’t have been so easy, otherwise. Magnus didn’t have access to the same powers Thaddeus did. He couldn’t channel the raw chaos of the darkness like Thaddeus could. Magnus was powerful, but only in relation to other mages – he was no god, which, as the moments passed, Thaddeus felt he was coming closer and closer to becoming. I am stronger, Thaddeus thought. But does that mean I’m better? And, if it does, why should I be doomed to the same fate of serving at Hel’s side?

You don’t have to be, Thaddeus, a voice inside Thaddeus’s head said. It was a man’s voice he hadn’t heard before, but, all at once, he knew it was Magnus’s. Serving at her side doesn’t have to be your fate.

Why should I believe you? Thaddeus asked the voice, even as he and Magnus engaged in a particularly furious exchange of blows.

You’ve already touched my mind, Thaddeus. You’ve already seen my memories. Doesn’t that tell you anything?

Thaddeus considered Magnus’s words. Did seeing the man’s memories tell him anything? And then Thaddeus realized something – the book that dominated Magnus’s memories, the one titled The Seven Points of Night, was something that Hel knew nothing about. Magnus had been hiding anything he knew about it from her almost from the moment he had been turned. There was, it seemed, a secret in or about that book that Hel couldn’t be allowed to know, a secret that, even after all this time, Magnus still protected. Which meant, Thaddeus realized, that Hel hadn’t fully turned Magnus, after all. A part of him had always been a Nightslayer.

Yes, Thaddeus, Magnus said. And now that secret is yours. A secret that you must defend.

Before Thaddeus understood what was happening, Magnus let his guard down, allowing Thaddeus’s sword through so that it could decapitate him. Thaddeus wasn’t able to stop himself, and, in a matter of only a few brief seconds, Magnus fell to the ground, dead. Looking down at the headless body, Thaddeus decided that, no matter what, Hel could not be allowed to have the information about The Seven Points of Night. Magnus had guarded that information with his life, and, now that his life had ended, it was up to Thaddeus to take up the burden. I am a Nightslayer, he thought. A Nightslayer!

“You swore yourself to me, Thaddeus.” Hel had walked up beside him. “To me! Tell me what he shared with you. Tell me!”

Thaddeus looked at her. He could tell Hel was powerful, but so was he. More powerful than he could ever have imagined. Yes, he had called Hel Mistress, but what did that really mean? Magnus, in his own way, had defied her for thousands of years, and he hadn’t been nearly as powerful as Thaddeus was. “Why should I?” Thaddeus asked. He gestured and Magnus’s headless corpse. “He never did.”

“You think you are as powerful as he was?” Hel asked.

“If I weren’t,” Thaddeus said, “he wouldn’t be dead, right now. I am more powerful than he was, and I’m sure you can sense it. He shared something with me, yes, but I will never share it with you. Not if I live ten times as long as he did. Or a hundred!”

“You think yourself more powerful than me.” Hel looked at him, then shook her head. “You aren’t, you know? In the end, you will turn out just as weak as Magnus was, and you will share with me what his memories showed you.”

“No, my Lady,” Thaddeus said. “I will not. I am a Nightslayer, and it is my sworn duty to protect any information that might give you an advantage. Such is what Magnus shared with me. You shall never have it.”

“Think again, worm!”

Hel reached out to Thaddeus with her power. Her actions were so sudden, so swift, that Thaddeus had no time to react, and, as soon as her power touched him, he was driven to his knees. A searing pain had stabbed into his brain, white hot and agonizing, and there was nothing he could do to get rid of it. That pain twisted and turned, searching for what it wanted, each movement increasing Thaddeus’s agony a hundredfold. He tried to expel Hel’s touch – he battered and railed against it with everything he had – but it would not budge, digging ever deeper into his mind. And then, all at once, it pulled back. But the pain did not recede with it, and Thaddeus suddenly realized that his eyes were bleeding.

Whatever had been done to his mind could not be reversed. The knowledge given to Thaddeus by his contact with Magnus had been torn from him, and a tattered ruin had been left behind. I’m going to die, Thaddeus realized. I’m going to die, and there is nothing anyone can do about it.

“You betrayed me, Thaddeus,” Hel said, stepping up close to him and placing her finger under his chin. She turned his face up toward her. “No one who does that lives. Not Magnus. Not you. And you did give me what I needed. I know where to look, now. And, now that I know, the Key will be mine. Just as it should have been so long ago.” Hel smiled. “Thank you, Thaddeus. I promise that your gift will not be forgotten.”

Hel pulled her finger away and vanished. Thaddeus remained there, on his knees, for a moment longer, then he toppled forward. Closing his eyes, he wished for nothing else but an end to the pain that filled his mind like a raging inferno. I failed, Thaddeus thought in the moment before he lost consciousness. I failed!

All at once, the bindings that held Zoe to the ground disappeared. She immediately pushed herself to her feet and ran over to where Thaddeus had fallen beside the headless body of the Hidden King. Dropping to her knees, she probed him with her magic – and was horrified by what she found. Thaddeus was very near death, and, despite her strengths as the Mother of the Order of Catharzen and as a Sorceress, Zoe didn’t think there was anything she could do for him. “No,” she said, her voice hardly louder than a whisper. Then the whisper turned harsher. “No!”

“He’s dying, isn’t he?”

Zoe looked up at Aylander, who had come over beside her. “Yes,” she said. Her voice shook and her eyes swam with tears. “And there’s nothing I can do about it!”

Aylander knelt and put his hand on her shoulder. “No, there isn’t,” he said, his voice incredibly gentle. “You have to let him go, Zoe. We can’t do anything for him, anymore.”

Zoe shook her head. “I can’t accept that, Aylander. I can’t! You’re a god, now. Isn’t there something you can do that I can’t?”

Aylander smiled sadly. “I can’t save him anymore than you can. All I can do is accept his spirit once he has passed on.” He glanced at Thaddeus. “Which won’t be very long, now.” His eyes found hers, again. “Zoe, I need you touch him with your power before he dies. He’s in pain. He’s suffering. Please ease his passing.”

“I can’t, Aylander.” Zoe looked down at Thaddeus. “I-I can’t. What am I supposed to do without him?” She looked pleadingly back at Aylander. “What?”

“Live on, Zoe,” Aylander said softly. “I know that’s what Thaddeus would want you to do. Live on, and never forget him.”

“Never.” Zoe reached down and laid her hand on Thaddeus’s forehead. Touching him with her power, she whispered, “Rest now, my love. Rest. I will always love you, Thaddeus, and I will never forget you.”

Zoe felt the last of Thaddeus’s life force flicker and die. At the end, he hadn’t been suffering. She closed her eyes and wept silently.

“Zoe!” Aylander said. “Look!”

Zoe opened her eyes and looked at Aylander. He was pointing down toward Thaddeus’s body. Turning her head, Zoe saw it wasn’t Thaddeus’s body Aylander was pointing at – it was his sword. One of the runes on the sword was glowing – no, not glowing, blazing with brilliant, radiant energy. Zoe probed the rune with her magic and was almost physically thrown back by what she touched. She knew what that rune was, now, too – the Sign of Unity, which she knew was meant to compliment Aylander’s Sign Unknowable.

“What is it?” Aylander asked her. It was clear he’d noticed her reaction to what she’d touched. “Are you all right?” Then his eyes widened and he pointed at her neck. “What’s that?”

The thing Aylander pointed at was glowing just like the rune on Thaddeus’s sword. Zoe knew what it was – a pendant engraved with a rune of its own that had been given to her by Father Alvarem when she had been raised to the level of full cleric – and she even thought she suspected why it had begun to glow. The rune on the pendant complimented the rune on Thaddeus’s sword, and, if it did, that also meant it complemented the rune emblazoned on Aylander’s tabbard. So why isn’t Aylander’s sign glowing like mine and Thaddeus’s?

Zoe reached her hand out to Aylander. She didn’t know why she did it, only that it seemed like the thing she should do. “Take my hand,” she said. He reached out and took it, grasping it tightly. The instant he did, the rune on his tabbard started to glow – as did his eyes. Zoe smiled – her eyes glowed as well, now – then took her free hand and placed it, again, on Thaddeus’s forehead.

None of the three of them could say for certain exactly what happened, next. The reason was probably because they were at the center of the effect, and were, each of them, very much a part of it. The accounts they heard afterwards, however, seemed fanciful even to them. Whatever happened, however, a power had been called down that night – a power stronger than any individual god, which, the three of them learned, were nothing more than extremely powerful users of magic – and it had brought something back into the world that should have been lost forever. When it departed, three gods were left behind in its place, and those three gods were one – the new Divine Council, and the first true Divine Council that had existed since before the Cataclysm.

Nightslayer - Chapter Fifty-Eight

 

Zoe and Thaddeus arrived at Gelevan Gorge in a ball of fire. Traveling by fire had been Thaddeus’s idea, and Zoe thought it no doubt fueled by the battle they had had with the Mother’s demons. Toward the end of that fight, Thaddeus had fought with a ferocity Zoe had never seen before, and she had even gotten the impression that he had begun to enjoy the killing. She had wanted to talk to him about it before they left for the Gorge, but even she had been forced to admit that there was no time. Maybe I’m worrying about it for nothing, Zoe thought, despite what her Sorceress’s senses were trying to tell her. Maybe he’ll be okay.

Aylander appeared before them seconds after their arrival. There was a triumphant smile on his face, and Zoe could see why – the battle seemed to have ended, and it appeared that the side loyal to the new Magister of the Torvaran Empire had won. Not that there weren’t signs that it had been a very close run thing. Many of the soldiers Zoe saw were dirty, bloodied, and looked exhausted. Because of her nature, and the way the Order had trained her, she felt an urge to go and see if she could help, but there were others of the Order, here, and her presence, alone, would bolster them enough to help with any of the injured that they could.

“Welcome, Brother!” Aylander said. His smile grew into a grin. “Trying to wait until all the fun was over before showing up, were we?”

“Hardly,” Thaddeus said. “Those demons did their damnedest to delay us, as you well know. We took care of them, though.” A dark smile touched Thaddeus’s lips. “We took care of them.” He refocused his gaze on Aylander. “What’s the situation here?”

“Well, as you can see, because of a very convenient turn of events – which I may, or may not, have had something to do with – the Baron’s forces have been driven back across the Gorge. They would be withdrawing further if they could, and if they still had competent leadership, but I’ve made it so they can’t leave here, and the Baron has been so unmanned by the loss of his Necromantic powers that his leadership abilities are currently nonexistent.” Aylander paused, and the joviality in his tone and expression vanished. “There are two Demon Lords here, Brother. One of them is Hel, the Mother, herself. I believe the other might be the Hidden King.”

“Why aren’t they trying to do something? Either one of them is more powerful than all of the magic users gathered here combined.”

“I don’t know. Shock, perhaps. I don’t think either of them were expecting a god to show up and ruin their battle plans.”

“A god?” Zoe asked, already knowing Aylander was referring to himself.

“Yes, my Lady,” Aylander said. “The new God of Death and Magic stands before you. Tell me, do either of you sense anything different? Anything new?”

“There are a lot of mages here,” Thaddeus said after a moment. “A lot.”

“Indeed there are. All of them awakened by my presence.”

“There were Abominations, here,” Zoe said. “I can sense their echoes.” She looked at Aylander. “Something happened to them. You put them back to sleep, didn’t you?”

“All but the Twisted Sword Priests,” Aylander said. “They are somehow beyond my touch.” He frowned. “I wish I knew why.”

“It’s their connection to the Demon Lords,” Thaddeus said. “Though their souls were Twisted by a Necromancer’s touch, the process for them was different than for normal Abominations. Once the power of the Demon Lords is broken, they’ll be yours, Brother. I’m sure of it.”

Aylander studied Thaddeus for a moment, his frown deepening. “And what of you, Brother? Are you well?”

“Yes,” Thaddeus said. “Quite well.”

Is he? Aylander asked Zoe, touching her mind. That he was able to do it without being linked to her via Thaddeus’s sword proved how powerful he had become.

I don’t know, Zoe told him. I’m afraid he isn’t.

“Having a nice little chat, are we?” Thaddeus asked. He glowered at both of them. “I can’t hear it, but I know you are. I’m fine, I tell you. You needn’t worry. If I’m seeming a little harder, a little darker, than I was, maybe it’s because that’s what I have to be. I am the Nightslayer, after all.” He looked away from them, toward the other side of the Gorge. “And, right now, there are two Demon Lords, here, that must be dealt with. Perhaps the two most dangerous of all. Taking care of them is my responsibility.”

Zoe reached out and laid a hand on Thaddeus’s arm, stopping him before he could leave, which is what she knew he was about to do. “Let us go with you, my love,” she said. “You know we’re better together than we are apart.”

Thaddeus looked at her. The light from the fires burning on the battlefield glittered in his eyes. “Not this time, my love,” he said. “I’m sorry.” And then he was gone.

“He’s traveling like I did,” Aylander said. “He shouldn’t be able to do that.”

“Unless he’s giving in to the power the darkness, here, has unleashed. You don’t think that’s something he needs to do, do you? To become what he needs to be, I mean?”

“It may be. But something about this feels wrong. We need to follow him, Zoe.” Aylander looked at her. “I fear he may have just stepped into a trap.” He reached out to her. “Take my hand.”

She took his hand, and the two of them vanished, following after Thaddeus.

Thaddeus arrived on the western side of the Gorge, and couldn’t help but smile at the sight that greeted him. It was apparent that neither of the Demon Lords – and it was more than obvious which one was which – had moved since Aylander had left them. In fact, one of them – the male half of the pair, whom Thaddeus was certain was the Hidden King – appeared to have been frozen in place while in the act of lunging at something. That Hel hadn’t taken the time to reverse the Hidden King’s condition was something Thaddeus found more than a little amusing. Sliding his sword from its scabbard, Thaddeus started toward them.

“So,” Hel said, turning toward Thaddeus as he approached, “you are the new Nightslayer, I take it. The one who called himself your brother said you would be coming. Do you know how difficult that Eltaran has made things for me? I can’t even leave here because of his meddling.”

“He just wanted to make sure you had a chance to meet me before you left,” Thaddeus said. He gestured at the Hidden King. “What happened to him?”

“Oh, Magnus, you mean?” Hel shrugged. “Your brother took him out of time and froze him. I just haven’t gotten around to restoring him, yet.” She looked at the Hidden King. “I actually prefer him this way. You wouldn’t believe how troublesome, not to mention boring, he’s become over the millennia.”

“I could fix that for you,” Thaddeus said.

Hel looked at him for a moment, considering. “Yes, I imagine you could,” she said. “But what about me? Once you’ve finished with Magnus, I’m sure you’d no doubt turn your attention to me. Your brother did say, after all, that he was saving the job of killing me for you.”

“You’re right. I would turn my attention to you.” Thaddeus paused. “But that doesn’t necessarily mean I’d have to kill you.”

“Oh? What would you do, then?”

“I could take his place.” What was Thaddeus saying? He found he couldn’t stop himself, however. “I’m sure you’d find me a welcome change after having to put up with Magnus for so long.”

Hel walked – sauntered – closer to Thaddeus. “But I thought you were the Nightslayer?” she said, her tone teasing. “Isn’t it your duty to kill creatures like me?”

“Maybe,” Thaddeus said, licking his lips, “maybe I don’t want to be the Nightslayer, any longer. Maybe I want something greater.” He eyed Hel and smiled. “Something more rewarding.”

Hel returned Thaddeus’s smile. “Oh, rewarding is definitely something I’m good at doing.” She reached over and touched the side of Thaddeus’s face. “Will you kill Magnus for me, Thaddeus Alvarem?”

Thaddeus shivered. “It would be my honor, Mistress.”

Zoe looked on in horror. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing, what she was hearing. Right in front of her eyes, Zoe’s entire world was falling apart. By calling Hel his mistress, Thaddeus had all but pledged himself to her, and there had been nothing Zoe could do to stop him. No, she thought. No!

“Thaddeus!” Zoe shouted. “Stop!”

Hel lifted her hand and sent a blast of energy hurtling toward Zoe. The blast only crossed half the distance before Aylander dispersed it with a blast of his own. And then a force like a great wind pushed both he and Zoe back, knocking them to them ground, stunned. Once she was able to get her head cleared a little, Zoe tried pushing herself back up – and found herself anchored where she was. Since she was a Spellbreaker, this shouldn’t have been a problem, but, whatever had her bound was no ordinary spell, and there was nothing she could do. Zoe wanted to scream, but when she tried, she discovered her mouth had been bound shut, as well. Aylander! she called with her mind. Help me!

I cannot! Aylander sent back. She has bound me, as well.

Can’t you break it? You’re a god, now!

Every time I try, it fights back. It’s like it’s alive. I may be able to break it given time, but, by then, it will be too late for Thaddeus.

No! NO!

Suddenly, Thaddeus was standing above her. He looked down at her, but there was no compassion or concern on his face. Just cool indifference. His eyes still glittered, though the fires were less on this side of the Gorge. “I told you not to follow me, Zoe,” Thaddeus said. “You didn’t have to see any of this.”

The binds on her mouth relaxed, and, when they did, Zoe understood. Whatever held her and Aylander, it didn’t come from Hel. It came from Thaddeus. “You don’t have to do this, Thaddeus,” Zoe said. “Please. Please! I love you!”

“I know you do,” Thaddeus said. His voice was flat. “I thought I loved you, too. I was wrong. There is only one mistress for me, Zoe.” He paused. “Please don’t struggle against your bonds. They’ll smother you if you do.”

“Damn you, Thaddeus!”

Thaddeus gave her a mirthless smile. “No one can damn me, Zoe. Not any more.” He turned and walked away.

Aylander heard the entire conversation between Thaddeus and Zoe. He felt Zoe’s heartbreak and dismay, her anger, and he also sensed that, in the strictest sense, Thaddeus was no longer himself. But did that mean he could still be saved? Aylander didn’t know. He wanted to believe that such a thing was still possible, but Thaddeus had fallen under the spell of not only the Mother of Monsters – who, Aylander understood, was nearly as powerful as he, himself, had become – but also of the chaotic energies that had been unleashed. Could anyone survive falling under the sway of such a combination? Could anyone still hold on to even just a part of themselves? Aylander didn’t know.

The bonds that kept Aylander anchored to the ground hadn’t come from Hel – something that Aylander should have seen at once, but had allowed himself to be willingly blind to – but they were incredibly strong. As he had told Zoe, it was almost like they were alive, reacting to even the smallest action Aylander tried to take, whether physical, mental, or magical. That Aylander could eventually break them was a given – he was, after all, a god, now – but once he’d broken them, what then? How could he bring Thaddeus back from the brink?

You cannot bring him back from the brink, a woman’s voice suddenly said from within Aylander’s mind. The voice wasn’t Zoe’s, but he still recognized it. It had been so long since he’d heard it, however, he couldn’t quite remember who it had belonged to. This is something that must happen. What’s important is that you are here for what comes after. That will be when you have your chance to save your brother and make sure he becomes what he needs to be.

Who are you? Aylander asked. I know your voice.

Don’t tell me you forgot me so easily. The voice had become teasing. Not after you held your silent candle for me for so long.

Lanaira? Is that you? But how? You died centuries ago.

And are you not, now, the God of Death, Aylander? None, save those whose souls have been swallowed by darkness, who have passed beyond are outside of your reach.

But I didn’t reach out to you. You came to me!

Lanaira sounded amused, now. The ability goes both ways, and I felt you needed a friend. Surely you remember how I was always that.

Aylander found himself smiling. Of course. Lanaira, please forgive me. There is so much I should have told you. So much I should have said.

Don’t trouble yourself over it. I’ve always known. And I’ve always loved you. I do wish you had been brave enough to tell me, but all of that is in the past, now. And we need never be separated, again.

Can Thaddeus be saved, Lanaira? Aylander asked.

He can be, but, in order for him to be saved, he must be allowed to die.

What do you mean? I don’t understand.

Neither do I, Aylander. Not fully. All I do know is that it must be allowed to happen. Only then can your brother be saved.

Stay with me, Lanaira, Aylander said, feeling a sudden stab of fear. Don’t let me face this alone.

You need never worry about being alone, again, my love. Aylander felt something, something gentle and ethereal, touch his face. I will always be with you.

Aylander closed his eyes. I love you, Lanaira.

He could hear the smile in Lanaira’s voice. I know. I love you, too.

Just as she always had before, Hel had won. Seeing what the new Nightslayer had done to his friends – one of which, it seemed, had been more than just a friend – proved that, once again, Hel had turned that which was supposed to be unturnable. Now, to solidify the deal, all she had to do was release Magnus and let Thaddeus – whom Hel was tempted to allow him to go on calling himself the Nightslayer, even after he had proven himself to be utterly hers – take care of him. There was no doubt in Hel’s mind who would win the fight – she could feel the new powers that had blossomed inside Thaddeus, powers that, someday, might even come to rival her own – but something made her hesitate. She didn’t know what it was that caused her to hold back, but something about letting Thaddeus and Magnus fight filled her with foreboding. Was it nothing more than the fact that Thaddeus was still largely an unknown to her? Or was it something else?

Thaddeus was looking at Hel expectantly, his sword drawn. The runes on his sword pulsed red – they were hungry for blood – but Hel noticed there was one that did not pulse, at all. It remained dark and cold, seeming to suck in some of the light coming from the others, and there was something about its shape that gave Hel a moment of pause. She knew that rune, didn’t she? Wasn’t it one of the six she had helped to create so long ago, the signs of power that marked someone a god? Hel wore one of those runes, herself, engraved on a length of the obsidian chain that encircled her neck. Hers was the Sign of Corruption, and was, at least in part, what conferred on her the ability to conjure her children. Which one was Thaddeus’s? And why didn’t it pulse with the same infernal light as the others?

“Shall I just kill him then, Mistress?” Thaddeus asked. “I was hoping we would fight.”

For a moment, Hel didn’t know what to do. Why now, all of a sudden, had a piece been added to the puzzle that didn’t seem to belong? Does it matter? she wondered. He has already pledged himself to me. He is mine! “Forgive me, Thaddeus,” Hel said. “I was reveling in my victory.” She waved her hand at Magnus. “Please, do you your worst.”

Magnus unfroze, the suddenness of his release nearly causing him to topple forward. He caught himself, however, casting a puzzled look at Hel before turning his attention to Thaddeus. “I remember you,” he said.

“Yes,” Thaddeus said, “I’m sure you do. And I’m not sorry to say that you won’t be able to run away, this time.” He stepped forward and raised his sword to strike.

Magnus conjured a blade of his own and, at the last moment, parried Thaddeus’s downward stroke, the two weapons coming together with a frightful clash. The fighting began in earnest, then, and Hel watched. She wasn’t able to enjoy the spectacle as much as she would have liked, however, for she had finally figured out what the rune on Thaddeus’s sword that failed to glow was. It was the Sign of Unity, the most powerful of the six. None had ever borne that sign, before, and its secret was supposed to be as forgotten as the ultimate location of the Key. How had Thaddeus gotten it, and from where? For the first time, Hel began to feel as if she were on the cusp of making a terrible mistake.