His Ancient Heart Page 6

  "Wait," Fehri said. He was as surprised by Oz as any of them, his own eyes widening at the sight of the creature. "Hold your blades before it kills him."

  "Trock," Talon said, ignoring everything else. "I remember you. The field is foggy, but your face isn't. You were a young boy. Eighteen at most. You always favored the short sword." He closed his eyes, the words helping bring the event to clarity. "You killed a rebel soldier, a girl. She was only fourteen."

  He could see it now. Trock on his knees at her side, looking down into her lifeless eyes, tears running from his own. The battle raged around them, and General Rast fought his way through the pitch to grab the soldier by the neck and bring him to his feet. 'Stand and fight, or I'll kill you myself,' he had screamed at the boy.

  Trock could barely breathe through Oz's grip, but his eyes showed he remembered.

  Talon opened his eyes. "I picked you up and ordered you to fight. You did well that day." There was no pride in his words.

  Murderer.

  "Rrrmmmmm." Trock tried to speak, but couldn't.

  "Oz, let go," Talon said.

  "It is pleased to follow First of Nine." Oz released him.

  Trock put his hands to his neck to rub it, turning to face Talon. "How? How could you know about that?" He leaned in closer, his dark eyes staring into Talon's blue. "General?" He paused, trying to work out the years. "It can't be. I mean, there were rumors coming from the other side of the Killorns. Rumors that the Liar was calling himself General Talon Rast. I didn't believe them. How could I? You were old then, and I'm an old man now."

  "Yes, you are." He had to be sixty or more. "Not as old as me, though. Not by half. You know me, Trock. You served under me. You know who and what I was. You know how I followed his laws, his command. Yet here I am. The Liar. The most wanted man in the Empire. I have turned against him, Trock. Do you know why?"

  He shook his head. "They say there is a girl. A Cursed girl. Did she enchant you?"

  "No. She saved me. There is another girl. A young girl dead on the field, her blood on your sword, your tears on her chest. There are hundreds more like her. Thousands. They were forgotten once. No more."

  "Are you going to kill us?" one of the jailers asked.

  "There has been enough killing for today," Fehri said, before Talon could reply. "General, we can lock them up to keep them quiet."

  Talon considered for a moment, and then nodded. If he could convince the Overlord to help him, she would decide what to do with them. If not, it wouldn't matter. "Enough for ten lifetimes, with more to come before this is over. Surrender your weapons, and you won't be harmed."

  "Wait," Trock said. "General, you don't need to lock us up. We won't give you away." He pointed at his men. "You don't remember all of them, do you? How could you, with so many soldiers under your command? Wallace? Bryant?"

  Talon looked at the others. He hadn't noticed them before. They were all wrinkled and grey. "I'm sorry, I don't. He took them. My memories. He made me forget when I learned the truth. He has a cure, Trock. A cure for the Curse. Yet he kills them. He buries the truth, buries the past, and forces us to bury those who question him. They call me the Liar, but this Empire is built on his lies, not mine."

  All of them stared at him, trying to absorb what he said. Trying to absorb that fact that he existed at all.

  "I never forgot her," Trock said at last. "The girl. I've carried her face with me for all of these years. The only thing that ever brought me comfort was that I killed her in the name of the Empire. That I killed her to keep us safe. I served under you, General. If you say the Empire is corrupt, I believe you, even if it means that the blood on my hands is as dirty as it comes." He dropped to his knee and bowed his head. "I swore fealty to you once before in his name. I'll swear fealty to you again if you'll have me, for all of those whose names I don't know."

  "As will I," Wallace said.

  "And I," Bryant said.

  Before he knew it, all of the jailers were kneeling at his feet.

  "Praise be to Amman," Fehri said. "General, what do we do now?"

  "Bring me to my cell."

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Talon

  The Overlord didn't keep Talon waiting long.

  Trock had barely had time to lock him and Oz in their cells and climb back up to the bastion with his men when the echoing of footsteps signaled that he had returned.

  She came alone. Trock guided her in silence, from the second heavy iron gate at the bottom of the deep stairwell to the ten foot square block of stone and iron that made up Talon's cell.

  "Leave us," she said to Trock. The jailer bowed his head, gave Talon a sidelong glance, and retreated away from them. The Overlord stood in front of the cell, staring in at him with a look of intense curiosity.

  Talon looked back at her. She had always been attractive, and the slowed aging of the Cursed had maintained much of it. There was some gray in her hair now, a few lines around her eyes, and her skin was a little less silky smooth, but the underlying beauty was still there.

  "Caela. It has been a long, long time."

  "Talon. What are you doing here?"

  "I was captured by your men."

  She started laughing, a soft, melodic laugh that brought him back to another time. Another place. A quiet meal between friends, joking and talking. They had been so close once. As close as any man and woman could be without sharing in the physical. He had always been loyal to Alyssa, and as a Cursed she was forbidden.

  "You expect me to believe that these soldiers captured you, when Feng and Clau could not?" She reached through the bars of the cell, putting her hand to his face. "What happened to you?"

  Talon put his hand over hers. She didn't pull it away, or show any fear that he would turn on her. She knew he had been captured on purpose. She had to know it was to see her.

  "I was hoping you would ask me that. Do you remember my boy, Aren?"

  She shook her head. "No. I never met Aren. Talon, I haven't seen you in close to fifty years."

  "Has it been that long?"

  "Yes."

  "I'm still alive."

  "You haven't aged a day, though your hair could use a little attention."

  "I'm not Cursed."

  "You are one of his Generals. One of the... six, who remain. Every Overlord knows about the Generals, that you are special."

  "They do?"

  "Of course. You know that."

  Talon shook his head. "No. I don't know that. There are so many things I've forgotten. My boy, Aren, he learned the truth about the Curse. That he has a cure. The Refinery."

  He could tell she was surprised that he knew. She pulled her hand away and turned from him. "It isn't a cure, Talon. It comes back. It always comes back."

  "The Refinery," he repeated. "It doesn't matter. There is a way to purify it, to heal it. How many of the Cursed have been killed, who would have gladly given their blood to have it cleaned? Aren found out about the Curse, what it was. He had him killed to keep the secret, and when I found out, he took my mind."

  "Talon, I... I'm sorry for what you went through. If he killed your son, if he took your memories... I'm sure there was a good reason."

  "Caela... there is no good reason, I assure you. I was his man. I made a promise to him that lasted a thousand years." She gasped at the number. "Yes. I said a thousand years. That is how long I have been wandering this Empire. That is how long he has been in control. Even so, it wasn't enough for him to trust me, to speak to me in truth. Why do you think that is?"

  She was staring at him now, trying to make herself believe that he was as old as he claimed. "No one can live a thousand years. You claim that he took your mind. How can you be sure of anything you say?"

  "Because I've been there. Where it all started. The Dark."

  "The Dark is a myth."

  "No, it isn't. It had another name once, long ago. Genesia. I lived there. So did he. His name was Jeremiah. He was what we called a wizard. He had power, like you."
>
  "What do you mean?" There was a hint of fear in her voice. Fear that he was telling the truth.

  "The Curse. It isn't what you think, or what he wants you to believe. The power, the magic isn't what makes you sick."

  "I don't believe you."

  "Yes, you do. Some part of you does. I can see it in your eyes."

  She turned away from him, hiding her face and beginning to pace in circles in front of him, her hands clasped together behind her back. He could see the tension in them as she struggled to find some compromise between what he had said, and what she knew as the truth.

  "Why do you think I disappeared?" Talon asked. "Why do you think he tried to hide me away, stealing my memories and turning me into a drunken fool? Why didn't he just kill me? At first, I believed it was because he valued our past friendship. Now I know it was because we are too rare, too valuable for what we are to be disposed of so easily."

  She looked back at him. "And what is that?"

  "A tool. A weapon. Only six of us remain."

  "A weapon for what?"

  "A war that is over."

  "Then why does he need you?"

  "The creature that attacked a nearby village, it was trapped with us in Genesia. It escaped when he destroyed the reactor."

  "I have received reports of a monster. That is what you were intended to fight?"

  "That, and worse. We discovered one in Genesia. It could be that there are more of them trapped somewhere. It could be that he doesn't know, and that is why we are still needed. The six of us... we are the only ones that can fight them."

  "He wants you dead. I have orders to kill you at any opportunity."

  "Because I know the truth."

  She paused in her pacing, her expression grim.

  "Talon, they are calling you the Liar, and all that I hear from you are words that reek of lies."

  "Then why would I let myself be captured?" he said, his voice low and seething. He was and always would be a murderer. He had never been a liar.

  "What I have heard, what I know is undeniably true, is that you murdered Overlord Iolis and General Feng. You incited a revolt in Elling. You freed every prisoner in the Washfall mines, while killing a number of his soldiers. I know that you are harboring a Cursed girl who has been helping you commit every act of treason, every type of crime I can imagine. I know you have killed a number of Mediators, and by the fact that you are here, and General Clau isn't, I imagine you killed him as well. I know your exploits are causing unrest and uprisings throughout the Empire, and there has been more death and chaos since you started this insane act of revenge than there has been since I became the Overlord of Varrow. If that isn't enough, you came to me, you let yourself be captured, because you think that simply telling me you are a thousand years old, making wild claims about being some kind of weapon, and suggesting that he is hiding something from his most trusted servants is going to somehow sway me to your cause?"

  She stormed over to the cell, putting her hands to the bars and staring deep into his eyes. Her voice was soft when she spoke again.

  "Talon, I have known you for many years. I have loved you from the time I was a young Mediator, newly assigned to your retinue. Even as I heard what you were doing, I wanted to believe there was a purpose to it. It terrifies me, but I want to believe you. If you were in my position, how would you feel about all that you have said, and I have said?"

  Talon smiled, reaching out and putting his hand on hers once more. "I would have me hanged."

  "Then why? Why did you come here? You know what I have to do. Why must you force me to do it?"

  Talon kept his eyes on hers. He pulled in a deep, calm breath and slowly let it out. He could feel her pulse racing under his palm.

  "Her name is Eryn."

  "What?"

  "The Cursed girl. The one they are calling the Whore. Her name is Eryn. She is very much as you were. Passionate, strong, loyal. A gift to the Empire. Like so many of the Cursed could be. Like so many of those who are trapped in the mines could be, given a chance. That's why I came, despite the odds. She's dying. No, she's changing. You have the cure. You can stop it. You can save her. It is the slimmest chance I have, but it is her only chance. I've sacrificed myself to you for that chance. To keep a different promise."

  A tear rolled from her eye and down her cheek. "If only I could believe you. If only I were willing to commit treason in your name. You can't offer me any compelling reason to do either."

  "I've offered you my life, and the truth."

  "As you see it, and you question your own mind."

  "Not in this."

  "How can you say that?"

  "I have proof."

  She looked him over. "I see no evidence."

  Talon's eyes finally left hers, rising and looking over her shoulder.

  "Oz. Say hello to Overlord Prezi."

  The juggernaut had been placed in the opposite cell. It had been standing in the dark corner of the prison with its back turned, invisible to her attention. Now it shifted and came forward so that she could see it.

  "It is pleased to say hello to the wizard. It is pleased to follow First of Nine."

  She pulled her hands away again, her head whipping between Oz and Talon.

  "What kind of trickery is this?" she asked, her voice strained in her disbelief.

  "Oz. Open your cell."

  The juggernaut reached out with its arm, taking hold of the bars and pulling. The hinges snapped, and it lifted the heavy door aside.

  "Talon?" Caela said. She backed away, her expression changing as she summoned her power.

  "Oz, grab the Overlord. Be gentle."

  "It is pleased to follow First of Nine."

  Oz dropped the door with an echoing clang and started walking towards her. The darkness of the prison was replaced with blinding white light as streaks of energy flowed from the Overlord's hand and into the juggernaut. It hissed and smoked against the ircidium hide, chipping away at the layers of rust and grime that had collected over the centuries.

  It didn't slow the creature at all.

  Oz reached out and took her wrist, lifting it and holding it so the magic aimed for the ceiling.

  She stopped the attack.

  "Oz, where are you from?" Talon said.

  "It is from Genesia."

  "How old are you?"

  "It has existed for one thousand four years, sixty-seven days, twelve hours, sixteen minutes, and nine seconds by the Empyrean calendar."

  The Overlord was motionless, her arm still in its grip. "Talon, I..."

  "Oz, let her go."

  It opened its hand and released her arm.

  "A relic," Talon said. "Oz is a juggernaut. He is the first version of what I was turned into. That the nine of us who were compatible were turned into. They still don't know the truth. None of us did. We won the war for all of our civilization, and when it was over... he seized the Empire for himself. He buried our past, our history. He killed everyone in Genesia to protect his secret. He has enslaved and killed many more since then to protect his secrets."

  She stared at Oz, examining it.

  "Look as closely as you must. I need you to believe me, Caela. You are the only one who can save Eryn. You are the only one who can help me stop the killing. I know you made a promise to him to protect the Empire and uphold its justice. I made a similar promise long ago. A promise that he has broken."

  She circled the juggernaut, reaching out to touch the ircidium shell, putting her hand in front of its face to feel the warm breath generated by the moving of gears and the resonance of the ebocite heart at its center. "How is this possible?"

  "We always had the magic. The power. It was different then, and we used it to bring joy and beauty and light to the world. Until we became greedy in it and pushed it too far. We polluted it. So many died... but that was a thousand years ago. He has the cure, and yet he still hunts the Cursed, killing most of them and brainwashing the rest. We defeated the Shifters, and yet he still
mines all of the ircidium that can be found. He burns any reference to the past, keeps us in the dark. Again, why? I believe he has lost himself, fallen victim to the disease of power. This isn't the world that is supposed to be. This isn't the world that the Empire deserves."

  She moved past Oz, back to his cell. She stood in front of him, her eyes moist, her chest heaving. "You're asking me to commit treason."

  "I'm asking you to do what you know is right. We have followed blindly for too long." He held up his hands. "There is so much blood on these, a river couldn't hold it all. I can make this right. You can help me. We can bring the light back to the world, and take the fear and pain and suffering away from it for good."

  "What if you fail?"

  "Then I'll be erased from history as everything else has been."

  She stood in front of him, considering once more. Then she put her hand up, and the cell unlocked, the door swinging open. She stepped in slowly, cautiously, and then reached out and took his hands. She kissed each one.

  "It is good to see you again, Talon."

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Spyne

  They reached the ruins of the tower as evening approached, a pace that left the Historians laying out on the grass, their bodies screaming for relief. All except Spyne and Worm.

  Spyne climbed through the rubble, all the way to the center where the dragon had burst from the depths. He peered down into the darkness, down to where he knew the remains of the reactor would rest, shattered ebocite and other stones amidst the debris from above. He didn't need to see it to know it was there.

  He reached into a pocket and withdrew a coin. It was an old thing, a relic from the time before. They had found it during one of their raids, in the home of a merchant who had come across the cache while digging a new well in his yard. The merchant had been excited to find such a thing. Too excited. Even when Spyne had arrived to claim it, he had talked excitedly about the idea of ancient money, and how it looked to be older than the Empire itself.

  They had buried him and his family in the well he had dug.

  He flipped the coin in his fingers. He had been carrying it for a half-dozen years or so. The back of it was so faded as to be almost flat. The face, the flip-side, was also worn and weathered, but he could still trace the edge's of the face etched into it. A woman's face, stoic and strong. He knew he had seen the real thing once, which was why he had kept the coin. His mind never let him remember her in detail.