How could that be, I wondered? I had no soul, yet still had a conscience. I regretted nothing of what I’d done, the heads I’d taken. And yet. .
Washing myself had turned the river scarlet. It looked black in the moonlight. I saw my stricken face in the water.
“I’m broken,” I whispered. “I need to fix myself.”
But not yet. I still had vengeance to meet out.
* * *
The valley of the tombs was suitably deathlike when I finally reached it. With hours left until morning, the moon waned over the dark land, barely touching the valley with its light. By now poor Venger had given me all he could. I dismounted and led him by foot between the hills and toward the ribbon of water leading to Crezil’s tomb. The place was deserted, of course, but I knew Diriel wouldn’t be far behind me. He would take enough horses with him to expire as many as he needed, but he wouldn’t reach the tomb until sunrise. That gave me time to rest and plan. More importantly, it let me seek out Crezil for myself.
As if awakened by the valley, Malator suddenly stirred within my mind. I picked up a broken branch, held it out in my hand, and asked the Akari to light it for me. At once a soft, heatless glow engulfed the stick, lighting the river rocks around me. Crezil’s cave lay just ahead, the great, silent maw of it menacing me. I glanced around, looking for fresh victims, piles of bone, anything to tell me whether Crezil had fed. The area was eerily bare.
“Malator,” I whispered, “is it in there?”
Yes, said Malator.
“Is it awake?”
Yes. And it knows we’re here.
I approached the entrance to the tomb, sensing the monster within it. Through Malator’s eyes I saw it deep within its lair, waiting near the portal to its own, hellish world. Crezil felt curious to me, almost impatient. I thought of going to speak to it, but stopped myself.
“Wait,” I said, trying to impart my thoughts to the creature. “Soon. Soon we’ll make our bargain.”
If the beast could hear me or sense my words, it made no move to say so. It merely waited, and in the cloudy vision of Malator’s sight I saw it looking back at me with its many eyes. It had changed again, I realized. Divested of bones and human flesh, it was naked now, like it had been when Anton had first pulled it through the portal. Even in the darkness it was enormously vile. I shut my mind to it, shuddering, and stepped back from the entrance.
“Will it wait?” I asked Malator.
For a time, I think, he replied. But not much past morning.
“It won’t have to wait past morning,” I said confidently.
I no longer felt immortal. The battle had drained me, or maybe it was seeing so many, many dead. Slowly I stripped off my ruined armor, examining each damaged piece as I laid it aside. The vambraces were cracked, and the breastplate was so badly dented that it pushed against my chest. I had cuts and bruises I didn’t even realize were there until I peeled the armor off. Finally, when that was done, I stripped off the torn and bloodied shirt beneath. I made a filthy pile of the lot until all I wore were my trousers and boots and the blue hahlag Chuluun had given me.
Then, afraid to sleep, I settled myself down at the edge of the river with the Sword of Angels in my lap and waited for the sun.
* * *
Crezil did not come out of its lair that night. It remained true to the bargain we’d struck, waiting patiently for me to deliver on my promise. When the sun finally came up over the valley, I realized I had nodded off, and looked around my peaceful spot for any signs of Diriel. I did not have long to wait.
Like me, they had ridden through the night, but unlike me they didn’t have Venger or a pair of magical eyes. I don’t know if they expected to see me or not, but when they finally rounded the hill and saw me by the river, they reined in their horses with contempt. Diriel looked exhausted, his face more wild than I’d ever seen. He had taken three bodyguards with him, all legionnaires and all as dead-eyed as the others, dressed in gray and crimson and staring soundlessly at me. And of course, Wrestler had come. He rode his horse the closest to me, splashing into the river and grinning triumphantly when he saw me.
“Have you come to protect your monster?” he taunted. “Good! Fight us for it and lose!”
Diriel trotted closer. “Sir Lukien, will you honor our bargain and give me the monster? We will kill you for it if we must.”
“You still make that boast?” I said. “After you’ve seen what I can do?” I rose to my feet with my sword still sheathed. “How many of your men do you need me to slaughter, Diriel?”
“Your men fought better than I ever imagined,” Diriel admitted, “but they haven’t won yet.”
“How do you know? You ran away once your slaves revolted.”
“Because the battle is as good as mine. Don’t you see? All of this belongs to me! This is my empire! Even that monster is my slave. Now, stand aside.”
“Truly, you are mad,” I sighed. “I could kill you with a breath yet you don’t see that.” I looked at Wrestler. “What about you, gargoyle? Still think you can beat me?”
“Put down your sword and let me try,” replied Wrestler. “Fight like a real man.”
“I want the monster,” Diriel said again. He’d ridden all night and had lost all patience. “Give it to me.”
“Believe it or not, that’s why I’m here,” I relented. “I am a Knight of Liiria, and a knight keeps his word.” I strapped the sword around my waist again. “The monster Crezil is there.” I pointed toward the cave. “That’s its lair.”
Diriel went white. “The tomb of my fathers. .”
“Anton Fallon woke it when he desecrated your ancestors,” I said. “He pulled it from its world into this one.”
“That’s why it’s hunting him,” said Diriel with delight. “Revenge!”
I didn’t bother correcting him. “It’s lost here,” I said. “It needs a master to guide it. I promised I’d give it to you, Diriel. If you want it, it’s yours.”
“At what price?” challenged Wrestler. “We’ve already won Isowon!”
“You haven’t yet,” I shot back. “But that’s not the bargain. You’re my price, Wrestler. After I give Crezil to Diriel, you wait here for me. You don’t run or hide. You face me and die.”
“Put down your sword, and we’ll fight now,” spat Wrestler. “Don’t wait, coward.”
“I want the creature!” cried Diriel. “Give it to me, Sir Lukien. Now!”
I looked only at Wrestler. “Do we have a deal?”
“We do!”
I stepped aside for Diriel. “Follow me, then. Just you.”
Diriel dismounted and approached me. “If this is a trick, you should know I will be unmerciful to you, Sir Lukien, and to every child in Isowon.”
“No more threats, Diriel,” I said. “I’m sick of hearing them. Come and get your monster.”
Wrestler and the trio of legionnaires dismounted but did not follow us as I led Diriel toward the cave. With the sun coming up the entrance looked less forbidding, and Diriel was so out of his mind that he seemed not to care. I led him past the slab guarding the tomb, scraping past the crack in the rock. He gasped as we crossed the threshold, just as Cricket and I had done when we first entered the tomb. I held up my flaming stick so he could behold the ancient glories. The paintings and sculptures jumped to life. The eyes of the stone animals gazed on us. Diriel pursed his lips like a child, taking it all in.
“Magnificent.”
“This is the tomb of Atarkin,” I said. “The last emperor of Akyre.”
“And now I am the first again,” he said, awed by his own words. He went to the stone coffin that had once held Atarkin’s mummied corpse. He ran his fingers over it, grimacing with his sharp teeth.