The Curse of Credesar, Part 1 Read online

The Curse of Credesar, Part 1

  by Robert E. Keller

  Smart Goblin Publishing 2011

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Original and exclusive cover art by Carolina Mylius

  Copyright © 2011 Robert E. Keller

  About the Author:

  Robert E. Keller is a fantasy writer who has had more than 30 stories published in online and print magazines, and he is the author of several epic fantasy novels. You can find more information on his projects at www.robertekeller.net

  Table of Contents:

  Chapter 1: The Awakening

  Chapter 2: Thelaran's Warning

  Chapter 3: The Condemned One

  Chapter 4: Departure

  Chapter 5: The Captives

  Chapter 6: Outcasts Under Stone

  Chapter 7: Struck Down

  Chapter 8: Plans Revealed

  Chapter 9: The Galds

  Chapter 10: Wolf and Demon

  Chapter 11: The Guide

  Chapter 12: The Road to Murakan

  Chapter 13: The Hijackers

  Chapter 14: The Face of Death

  Chapter 15: The Oracle of Murakan

  Chapter 16: Jailed

  Chapter 17: The Warding Chamber

  Chapter 18: Terror Unleashed

  Chapter 19: Credesar is Finished!

  Chapter 1: The Awakening

  Was this the morning of his execution?

  Kelden Delure leaned against the closed window shutters in his room near the top of Valganleer Tower, pressing his forehead against the smooth boards. Once again, Kelden searched inside himself for some trace of Credesar's existence, but he found nothing. That gave him no relief, however, for it didn't mean the demon wasn't lurking inside him.

  Kelden chose not to open the shutters to let in dawn's light. He deserved to stand in darkness. After all, he was shunned now by all of the seers, teachers, and students in the tower--a monster who should remain in the shadows.

  Chills crawled over Kelden's flesh, as he contemplated losing himself forever to a fiend of unspeakable evil. Perhaps it was better he simply be put to death.

  "I've come for you," a deep voice said, as a heavy hand settled on him. It felt like his shoulder had been trapped by warm stone.

  With a cry, Kelden whirled around, his blood lore magic flooding through him and toward the target. But that target was only Theodus.

  Kelden let the spell falter. "Why did you sneak up on me like that?"

  Theodus was a Dar fiend--a squat, ugly creature that somewhat resembled a gargoyle without wings. Because his flesh was similar to stone, Theodus weighed more than five-hundred pounds, but his gnarled feet bore thick, natural padding on their soles and they made no noise on the floor.

  "I did not sneak," Theodus replied disdainfully. "Thieves sneak. Mice sneak. I, however, walk with dignified silence."

  Kelden shivered, the chill in his heart deepened by sudden dread. Theodus' arms were folded across his chest--a defensive, worried stance. The black and crimson substance that was his flesh shimmered in agitation, looking like lava that was half hardened, and his bat-like head was bowed. His ears were twitching--a sign of deep distress.

  "What is it, Theodus?" said Kelden, though he already knew.

  "Bad news," Theodus said, his voice heavy with foreboding. "The high council wants to see you right away."

  Kelden's heart fluttered with panic. He'd known this moment was coming and had tried to prepare himself, but he'd failed miserably. "Is it about the...the Credesar thing?"

  Theodus nodded. "As you well know. And I can tell you this--the council didn't look too happy, Vangoss in particular."

  "If I am Credesar," Kelden said, "they'll most likely kill me soon enough." And for the first time in more than two years, he longed to leave behind the material comforts of Valganleer and go anywhere else--even back to the filthy fields of the Horrat lands where he'd spent his youth hunting rats for survival. Being muddy, sick, and hungry was preferable to death--for with life, however dismal, there was hope.

  Kelden shook his head. "I don't understand this." Fumbling about with uncooperative hands, he got dressed. "Why me, Theodus? Why this? They've already ruined my life here. The seers avoid me, the teachers avoid me, and…" He couldn't bring himself to speak of the girl who'd broken his heart.

  "You don't look so good all of a sudden," said Theodus. "You need to calm yourself before you appear in front of the high council."

  Kelden turned to a full-length mirror. His black robe with red trim lent him a little dignity, but certainly not enough. Even in the dim light, he could see his skin had gone pale. His blond hair was a tangled mess, and two shocked blue eyes stared out from his weary face.

  Kelden closed his eyes, and he could feel the crushing weight of Valganleer Tower bearing down on him, a mountainous structure of halls and chambers connected by a single winding stairway, where shadow and stone allied themselves to preserve mysteries Kelden could never hope to understand. It was a lair of sacrifice where the needs of a single human meant nothing, where the future of the human race in its entirety was all that mattered.

  "I feel something strange," Kelden said, slipping on his boots. "It could be some type of dark sorcery." He wondered if Theodus was the cause, or if the seers were up to something. The Dar fiend was Kelden's link, which meant Kelden channeled his sorcery through Theodus to make it stronger. Theodus was an amplifier of sorts that could double any magic Kelden sent through him. But negative residue from that sorcery would often build up in the Dar fiend until it infested him and rendered him ineffective. Only a cleansing--which removed all traces of that magical residue--could restore him to normal.

  "It isn't me," said Theodus. "I had a cleansing not too long ago."

  Kelden's gaze passed over the shelves that ran along the oaken walls. He saw potions, scales, books, and scrolls--all fine items, but ones he had no use for right now. They couldn't help him in this situation.

  Kelden's back suddenly felt exposed--as if someone were aiming a spear at him from behind. He had the urge to put his back to the wall. Confused, he glanced around like a caged animal looking for a way out. Theodus watched him with a curious expression.

  Kelden shook his head. "What am I feeling?"

  "Probably fear and discomfort," Theodus said. "Understandable."

  Kelden again shook his head. "No, it's... Never mind."

  "I have something for you," Theodus said, a sad, almost guilty expression in his eyes. "It was given to me by Vangoss. It will help calm you." The Dar fiend handed Kelden a bracelet made of an element called lakeshine. It glowed varying shades of blue and silver, despite the shadows. Runes covered it in leafy patterns.

  Kelden hesitated, staring at the bracelet as if it were worm spawn. "Theodus, this is obviously to...to control or hurt me." The chills grew to an almost unbearable pitch or panic--now unmistakable signs of powerful sorcery. It radiated like searing heat from the bracelet.

  Theodus nodded sadly. "But you have no choice. There is no escape from Valganleer, Kelden."

  Theodus' words couldn't be denied, and so, with the will drained from him, Kelden took the bracelet. Strangely, the dark sensations ceased as soon as the item left Theodus' hand. Kelden slid the bracelet onto his wrist. It tightened down--painfully at first, and then it loosened just enough so the pain vanished. The chills had disappeared, but the terror remained.

  Kelden gazed at his friend, and the Dar fiend gazed back. Yellow, inhuman eyes reached out with pity to the numb
eyes of a man whose humanity and place in the world seemed to be slipping away. Kelden was the true fiend now, not Theodus. He was the shunned one who would face scrutiny and possibly execution.

  "I've only known you for two years," Theodus said. "But I've come to be quite fond of you, Kelden. I'd trade places with you if I could."

  Kelden nodded, knowing the Dar fiend was sincere. "I wouldn't let you, Theodus. This is my problem and I have to face it. Maybe things will turn out okay. Maybe I'll pass their little test and prove I'm not..." He couldn't bring himself to finish.

  "I don't believe all that nonsense," Theodus said, his eyes flashing with anger. "How could you be the vile demon Credesar--a simple rat trapper from the Horrat lands like you? It's impossible! The seers have lost their minds. Why would Credesar enter this world as a mortal? It would be pointless to exist as a weak human. I lack the power of Credesar, but even for a simple Dar fiend like me to become human would be a big step down in power. And I personally know that no fiend would ever choose mortal flesh over the element he was forged from. It's just not in our makeup. We love who we are. And if Credesar were inside of you, why wouldn't you be aware of him? I think Vangoss, or someone else on the high council, has delved too deeply into some foul sorcery and no longer has his wits about him. This is ridiculous!"

  "I hope you're right, obviously," Kelden said. "I don't feel any trace of a monster inside me." It felt good to get this in the open and talk it out. He decided he was done keeping it shut away within him. If he was to face trial and death, then he'd do so speaking his mind and demanding justice, for he had nothing to lose. "I've never felt an evil presence inside me," he added, "or even had a nightmare about Credesar, until the seers told me of their suspicions. Wouldn't there be some kind of sign?"

  "I should think so," Theodus said. "But we've no time to talk, and it will do no good regardless. Let's get it over with."

  Kelden nodded, feeling stronger and slightly more hopeful. "I'm ready."

  "I'll be by your side, my friend," said Theodus.

  "But are you sure you want to go to the Sky Chamber with me?" said Kelden. "You've been my link the whole time I've been at Valganleer. They might decide you're a danger too, for whatever reason. Maybe you should stay away."

  "It won't make a difference," said Theodus. "If I'm to be judged, there is nowhere I can hide. Besides, we shall face this together--and perish together, if we must."

  Kelden managed a smile. "Then at least I know my time here wasn't wasted, for I've gained the best friend one could possibly have. That has to be worth something."

  Theodus patted him on the shoulder. "Let's be off, then."

  Kelden stared at his wrist. It felt odd, tightly squeezed. Theodus looked at him questioningly.

  "Is something wrong, Kelden?"

  "My wrist feels strange," Kelden said. "What did you do to it?"

  "I...I can't remember," Theodus said. "Didn't you have something on it like a bracelet? Or were you carrying something in your hand?"

  Kelden shook his head, struggling to remember. "I thought you gave me something." He studied his wrist in the dim light and then ran his hand over it. He felt cold, smooth skin but nothing else.

  "We've forgotten," Theodus said, his lip curled into a sneer of disgust. "We've been made to forget. Whatever abomination I gave you has passed out of sight and mind for us, a burden you must bear but can never comprehend."

  Kelden squeezed his wrist until it ached, hating the seers with all of his heart. Once he'd loved them and would have done anything for them, for they had saved him from a life of pain and sickness in the rat fields. But now they seemed childish and corrupt, indifferent to his troubles. They had rescued him only out of their own needs to recruit students for sorcery training to continue their lineage. They could destroy him without regret if their needs demanded it.

  They stepped out into the Rune Hall, which was so named because the stone blocks of the walls and ceilings were covered in sorcery runes--blood lore writings that depicted bits of wisdom. The tunnel was lit by four large torches, but shadows lingered deep here and there. They found it deserted. Only blood lore students dwelt in rooms along this hall, and they were all asleep and would remain so until evening, as they were--along with the astronomers--the night owls of Valganleer.

  Theodus plodded ahead on his stubby legs, his gnarled feet deathly silent against the floor. Kelden's footsteps rang out loud and accusing. They entered Stargazer Hall, where a glittering map of the cosmos covered the entire ceiling. The planets, stars, moons, and comets gave the impression that there was in fact no ceiling and the endless heavens were visible. The eight observatory doors were still unlocked, the astronomers pouring over charts or debating theories. It seemed that they never slept--and perhaps some of them never did.

  Beyond Stargazer Hall lay a chamber in which one vast stairway wound about a pillar at the center of Valganleer Tower, with bridges reaching out to connect the halls to it. Kelden likened the inside of Valganleer to a giant honeycomb, with the walls riddled with tunnels and the hollow center being occupied by the stairway pillar that bound the whole thing together. The reason for this bizarre design had been lost with the passing of centuries.

  Kelden felt queasy as he crossed the bridge, his legs weak, and he tried to stay as far from the edges as possible. The bridges had no rails, and they were so narrow that one misstep could lead to a long and fatal drop into the stone bowels of the tower. It had happened before and would likely happen again. The strangeness of the tower overwhelmed Kelden, as it always did when he was confronted with some seemingly insane structure--and there were many of those throughout Valganleer. The tower inspired a number of sensations--such as fear, wonder, loathing, and outright amazement that such a fortress could ever have been built. For more than two years he'd existed within these walls, but he still often felt like a stranger here--and now more so than ever since he was confined to his room most of the time.

  Kelden's imagination was drawn into a maze of dark chambers and tunnels, into a keep so old it was often hard to make sense of its history. He envisioned the ruined continent of Americk Dreeth, dotted with massive Legaran fortresses like Valganleer. It was an ugly vision. Centuries before, when the human race lay on the brink of extinction, the Legarans--the great seers who had established their might above all others--had separated themselves from those less fortunate by building eight enormous towers and shutting themselves away within them. Simple folk were left to populate the continent of Americk Dreeth--farmers, merchants, and trappers, among others. It was the ultimate class division, as those privileged enough to dwell within the towers lived like kings and those unfortunate enough to dwell outside of them lived like peasants.

  Seven callings, or sects of sorcery, existed in each tower--the Uldens, the tempests, the Gelshads, blood lore, old lore, alchemy, and the Thelaran keepers. The seers conducted the major experiments of sorcery and alchemy, created the laws of the towers and updated them, and made all the important decisions concerning the surrounding lands. The teachers taught the students and had no real influence beyond their classrooms. The Gelshads were pure warriors who defended the keep and sometimes were sent on missions beyond the stone walls. The class and law systems that existed in Valganleer and the other Legaran fortresses were ancient and highly effective. The towers had withstood vast corruption from within and horrors from without for over two thousand years without a single one falling into ruin.

  Knowing these facts, Kelden understood partly why many things which he considered absurd (like bridges without rails) had been left in place, even if their original purposes were forgotten. The seers were reluctant to change anything in a system that had endured so long, and they only did so when absolutely necessary.

  As these thoughts passed through Kelden's mind, the full weight of what he stood to lose at last took his will, and for a moment he faltered, pausing halfway across the bridge. If he was Credesar, or harbored the fiend inside him, at worst he'd be kill
ed. At best, he'd be banished from the tower. Either fate seemed equally wretched, for life in the wastelands was pure misery. He had no money and no useful work skills, and so earning a living in one of the few underground cities on Americk Dreeth was unlikely. He would probably end up a beggar.

  "We must keep going," Theodus whispered.

  Kelden nodded, and forced his legs into motion. They reached the stairs and started up. It was a wearying climb, as the stairway wound upward around the central pillar past more bridges and tunnels. They met no one on the way, and Kelden was thankful it was too late, and also too early, for most to be awake. He had no wish to face any sneers of disgust or questioning looks this morning.

  At last the stairway ended at a closed trapdoor. Theodus yanked on a rope, and a bell chimed out above. A whisper descended: "Who seeks to enter the Sky Chamber?"

  "Theodus." The Dar fiend's words echoed three times--captured and studied with a magical recognition device called a mood compass that would determine if it was actually Theodus and even some of what his intent was.

  "And Kelden Delure." Kelden's voice sounded dry and feeble. No magical device was needed to comprehend his mood.

  The trapdoor opened, and the two climbed into Valganleer's highest chamber, the trapdoor closing behind them. They stood in a circular room made of marble bricks. The stairway pillar didn't extend up into this chamber, but helped support the floor from beneath. The ceiling--the very peak of Valganleer--was thirty feet above them, with four huge arches meeting at the center of it. A Hetheope guard towered over them--a furry, horned giant--created by the alchemists--that somewhat resembled a Minotaur from ancient legend. It wore thick armor and carried a big iron hammer. Two crimson eyes, beady and sullen, gazed out from its bull-like face.

  Six tempest seers--masters of elemental sorcery--stood off to one side in a circle, their faces hidden by low-hanging hoods. Each held an Aldar serpent that hissed and twisted about. The serpents--which were links similar to Dar fiends like Theodus but made from a different element--channeled the seers' power through them. The snakes periodically vomited out a thin, transparent mist that spread throughout the Sky Chamber. Kelden had no idea what they were doing or why.

  Another nearby circle consisted of grey-robed Thelaran keepers. They were all women, for no man was allowed to join their calling. Their yellowish faces were tense and emotional in the torchlight, and they held their crystal daggers--their links--near their chests in their traditional stance. They studied Kelden and Theodus with distrust and possibly outright contempt. They sent out Thelaran's gaze, searching the two for signs of hostile intent, and the familiar sick feeling washed over Kelden for a moment. It felt like they were probing his innards with little fingers.

  Also nearby was the stone judgment, a rectangular block of white marble. Behind that sat the five high council members, visible from the chest up, their faces grim in the torchlight. On the forehead of each council member (except for Vangoss Fayer, an Ulden seer and the leader of the group) was branded the rune of Green World--a symbol shaped like a leaf. Vangoss, however, had an eye shape branded into his forehead--the ancient symbol of the Ulden teachings--that had been seared into his flesh before the practice of branding other symbols besides the leaf rune had been banished in an attempt to create unity among the seers during a dark period of Valganleer's history.

  A black-cloaked, hooded figure stood beside the stone judgment, holding a greenstone book of records that would record any act of sorcery and the statements uttered by those present. This was Salvensteed Laget, the historian and scribe of Valganleer who always kept his face concealed by a dark cloth mask. No one knew exactly how old he was, or even what he was, but he'd been the chief historian as far back as the magically inscribed stable records ran, and he even appeared at various points in the slowly diminishing unstable records (which meant his age and length of service were impossible to make even a good guess at). Though many of them did not age thanks to their vast knowledge of sorcery, the seers always died--if not from an accident or a rare disease than from the fatal bite of a Halstarion worm. Life was too dangerous, even in Valganleer, for one to avoid death indefinitely. Yet somehow Salvensteed Laget had survived much longer than even the greatest seers.

  Kelden nearly cringed. Appearing before the high council was something that never occurred lightly and was never desirable for a student. The high council didn't gather to reward or promote--the lesser seers and teachers did that. They either met to discuss important issues, or they met to hand out punishment. By the way the Thelaran keepers were staring at him, Kelden guessed it was the latter, and he began to tremble, his throat drying up. Theodus clutched Kelden's arm to steady him.

  "Stay calm," the Dar fiend whispered.

  "I am calm," Kelden mumbled back.

  Salvensteed bowed to the high council. "May we begin?" he asked. His voice was low and slippery sounding, almost mocking.

  "We may," each of the council members agreed.

  Salvensteed laid the record book upon the stone judgment. "This, the forty-two thousandth, nine-hundredth and sixty-fourth meeting of the high council according to the stable records, is hereby entered into the greenstone log. Vangoss Fayer, Ulden seer and lord of the high council, may now present his case."

  Vangoss stood up and adjusted his plain, gold-colored robe (which all the council members wore), placing his hands upon the stone judgment. He was over seven feet in height. Formerly a Gelshad fighter long ago in his youth, he'd retained the powerful build that was a signature of Valganleer's elite soldiers, and it lent authority to his presence. The other council members seemed overshadowed by their leader (save for Amsel Heckenbrau, the Arnwolf seer of blood lore, who had shoulders even wider than Vangoss did). Vangoss' eyes were pure white--a condition that couldn't be changed and was leftover from his experimentations with Ulden lore. Like his eyes, his hair and beard were also white, making him look old in spite of his smooth face.

  "Kelden Delure, I welcome you before the high council," Vangoss began. "Before we get to why you've been summoned, tell us a bit about your background. But be warned--you stand within the Sky Chamber. Speak only the truth, young man, for Thelaran's gaze will bear witness to your words."

  Kelden cleared his throat. "I was, um, born in the Horrat lands, west of Tembros. I was...I mean, I am, the son of rat trappers. I was called to Valganleer during a summoning, and I'm a student here."

  "And you've apparently been a good student," said Vangoss. "Nothing less than top marks throughout your two years here, and certainly no trouble maker. The teachers have spoken fondly of you. What's your calling?"

  "Blood lore," Kelden said.

  That response brought forth whispering among the other council members. "Interesting," Vangoss said, as the others nodded. "A practice similar to old lore teachings of motion, where movement releases the energy--in this case the movement of your own blood. This is a highly advanced teaching, especially for someone who has only been here a mere two years, a man barely in his twenties. Don't you think?"

  Kelden hesitated, glancing at Theodus. The Dar fiend didn't return the glance, staying focused on the council. Was that something mocking or malicious in Vangoss' expression? At last Kelden said, "My teachers thought I was ready for it."

  "And they were right," said Vangoss. "As I mentioned--top marks throughout. Now why do you suppose that is? Are you just extraordinarily talented, Kelden Delure? Or is it something more?"

  There was definitely something mocking and malicious there. Kelden's heart pounded harder. The high council members studied him with looks of deep concern--save for Amsel, the Arnwolf seer, whose face was passive. Vangoss seemed to be playing out some elaborate act in an effort to prove something to the rest of the council. It was going to be a while yet before he learned why he was here.

  "I don't know," Kelden said, shoring up his will. "I guess it was talent. What else could it be?" He shrugged helplessly.

  Smiling, Vangoss continued. "What els
e indeed? What was life like in the Horrat lands?"

  "Wretched," Kelden said. "I worked from morning until dark every day of the week trapping rats. I was sick all the time from various illnesses."

  "Rats?" questioned Vangoss.

  "Giant rats," Kelden said. "They are often diseased--which is actually preferable. A diseased rat is more prized than a healthy one."

  Vangoss' face wrinkled in disgust. "And these mutant rats are harvested for food? Or are they milked like cattle?"

  "For blood," said Kelden. "The blood is used to make Greela wine, which we sell. We don't use anything else from the rats. The rats that have a disease called blood rot are the most valuable, for they make the most sought after wine."

  "Blood!" said Vangoss, spreading his arms wide. "There we have mention of it again. This is indeed most interesting."

  Mutterings arose from the others, but Vangoss silenced them with a gesture. "So how did the seers learn of your calling?"

  Again Kelden hesitated. Vangoss was obviously trying to bait him somehow into admitting something, but what could it be? Even if he did harbor the fiend Credesar inside him, Kelden himself was innocent of all wrongdoing. He had nothing to fear from his words. Yet his instincts told him otherwise, warning him he actually had much to fear.

  "They discovered it during the summoning," said Kelden.

  "I see," said Vangoss. "Salvensteed Laget, do the stable records list how many times a calling has been identified during a summoning?"

  "They should, Lord Vangoss," said Salvensteed. "But it would take some time to look it up--maybe days, even, depending on many factors. Yet I can tell you from what I've personally witnessed, not many have been discovered that way. Usually it takes months and sometimes even years of testing to identify a calling. But you knew that, Lord Vangoss, I'm sure."

  "A very uncommon occurrence, then," said Vangoss. "A summoning is simply a method of locating young men and women throughout the land who have a talent for sorcery. It is not supposed to reveal the precise nature of that talent. But this one did! Have you looked up the record of the particular summoning we are discussing, Salvensteed?"

  "At your request," said the historian, "I have done so. The will of blood lore apparently came through so strongly it left a physical taste in the mouth of the seer conducting the summoning. It was unmistakable."

  "What do you know of blood lore?" Vangoss asked.

  "It is about attack," said Salvensteed. "It is the most dangerous of Valganleer's teachings. Blood lore students learn primarily to kill."

  "So blood and violence are the elements of your calling, Kelden Delure," said Vangoss. "Do you dispute this in light of what our trusted historian has just said?"

  "I was chosen for it," said Kelden. "I just tried to do my best." Where is this all leading? his mind screamed.

  "I dispute it," said Amsel Heckenbrau, standing up. He was shorter than Vangoss, but wider and even more powerfully built. His black beard was thicker, and his eyebrows bushier. The Arnwolf seer scowled in displeasure. "Blood lore students are indeed taught how to kill, but they are not taught to be violent. In fact, blood lore teaches the opposite. It is about life and hope!"

  "But the whole purpose behind it seems to be violence," said Vangoss. "For what else could the lessons be used for?"

  "That which kills can also change or heal," said Amsel. "And why do you question an ancient and accepted teaching of Valganleer? For reasons I have never understood, our calling has been scorned throughout the ages. Yet how many blood lore seers have been known to draw energy from the forbidden realm of Blue World as the false gods did back in their time? Far less than have the Ulden seers!"

  "Very well," said Vangoss, waving his hand impatiently. "Regardless, blood lore is the most dangerous of our teachings. Or do you dispute that as well?"

  "I do not," said Amsel. "It is indeed dangerous, but only because it is powerful and could be used to cause harm. But it is seldom erratic. It is one of the more stable practices, with the chance element playing but a small role."

  "Then we've established its great potential for harm," said Vangoss, "if nothing else." He fixed his gaze on Kelden again. "Tell us what your last name means, Kelden Delure."

  "It means..." Kelden paused, realizing what he was about to say. But nothing could be done about it. He had to speak the truth. "It means blood in the old Horrat speech," he finished quietly. "It goes back a long way."

  "Upon what exact date were you born?" asked Vangoss.

  "I was...I was born on Sarrith Day," said Kelden, "the sixteenth of Eldrem, in forty six." He wondered how Vangoss could possibly find anything connected to blood in that answer.

  "How are these dates significant, Salvensteed?" said Vangoss.

  Salvensteed calculated. "Eight thousand forty-six," he said at last, "marks the one-hundred year anniversary of Goben's Bloodfall--when a crazed former seer and cult leader had his followers ritually sacrificed to demons. The sixteenth of Eldrem is the anniversary of the Bloodwake Moon--when a permanent crimson glow engulfed the smaller moon in our night sky. And Sarrith Day was formerly known as Jarvin Day. Jarvin is the false god of blood, and Credesar the Bloodthirsty was the demon who served him and laid waste to the land!"

  Whisperings erupted among the council. Amsel, however, lowered his gaze and remained silent, his eyes fixed upon the stone judgment. The Arnwolf seer bore a thoughtful expression.

  "And finally," said Vangoss, "how much of your Wer blood did you consume, Kelden Delure?"

  "About half," Kelden said, inwardly cringing.

  "Half!" Vangoss remarked, with wide eyes. "Most impressive, I must say. Few students can take more than a couple of sips before vomiting."

  "Some have consumed nearly the whole bottle," Amsel said. "This proves only that Kelden is talented and nothing more. And Wer blood is not actual blood--if you're trying to make some connection there. Don't be ridiculous!"

  "Perhaps," said Vangoss. "But this man is linked with blood in many ways. And with Jarvin being the false god of blood, could it be only coincidence?"

  Linked with blood? Desperately Kelden's mind searched for answers, while realizing, with chills flooding along his spine, the truth in Vangoss' statement. Again he glanced at Theodus, but the Dar fiend stayed focused on the council (though his lava-flesh was shimmering swiftly and his bat ears twitched).

  "But what does this prove?" said Lebin Nureck, standing up. He was almost two feet shorter than Vangoss and Amsel, and slight of build, with tangled brown hair and a curly beard. This alchemist, known as a quick-tempered, self-important man who was always in a hurry to get somewhere, was the oddball of the council. The other four were well-respected men, but Lebin's promotion to the high council was based solely upon his many achievements. He had done more for Valganleer than all of the other council members combined, yet his snobbish attitude of superiority, and legendary temper, made him the most disliked of the five--the reasons for which he never seemed to understand. His past was haunted by two dead wives (both victims of the Halstarion worms that endlessly hunted the land), a manic fixation with deeper truths that had led him countless times into depression, and an addiction to alcohol.

  "It proves little," said Vangoss. "But it sets the stage for what is to come. Before this meeting has ended, the truth will be learned."

  "How?" said Lebin. His face had reddened, and he bore a scowl. "Here we have a young man, probably shaking in his boots and baffled by this whole affair, as I am." He glared at Amsel. "And since when has an Arnwolf seer ever accurately predicted anything? The chance element may be low in most areas of blood lore, but it is far too high in your methods of sight to make a noteworthy prediction about this Kelden Delure."

  "I disagree," Amsel said calmly. "Under the right circumstances, I can determine the true will of the false gods--if anyone can. All I ask is that I be allowed to test this boy to determine the truth."

  "But it is dangerous!" muttered Lebin. "There must be a better way."

&n
bsp; Kelden's heart lurched. What were they planning? This was Valganleer, a Legaran tower, and it obeyed only its own laws--which meant they could do anything they wanted to him as long as the laws allowed it. He focused most of his attention on Lebin Nureck, for the alchemist seemed have taken his side somewhat.

  Orlar Callick stood up. "There is no other way." Orlar was the oldest, and considered by many to be the wisest, high council member. He was one of the kindest and most noble men ever to set foot in Valganleer. It was widely believed that his heart was incorruptible. He was a black-skinned man with shoulder-length curly hair and a clean-shaven face, his jaw square and his eyes dark. He never smiled.

  "No other way?" said Lebin. "Have we even searched for another way?"

  Orlar nodded slowly. "I did not arrive at this conclusion lightly, Lebin. Only the Arnwolf seers can determine the truth in this matter, for only they are indirectly linked to the false gods and can indeed predict their will. Remember, blood lore was the primary sorcery of the false gods when they were seers. It lingers on within them, and through it the Arnwolf seers can establish contact on the darkest level of that calling. We must heed Amsel's advice concerning this issue."

  Junos Elserninstine, the tempest seer, chuckled and rose to her feet. "I guess if all of you must stand up so dramatically, I will too so as not to be overshadowed. I only have this to say--yes, there is a danger, but the boy should be tested. We cannot afford to ignore this." Of all the high council members, Junos was typically the most relaxed and had the best sense of humor. She brought a badly needed light-hearted presence to the otherwise grim council. As far as talent went, Junos was on a level all by herself, able to tackle the most complex and dangerous affairs of Valganleer with an ease and grace others could only marvel at. She had shimmering blond hair and pale skin, with bright blue eyes that always seemed to hold a twinkle. She was slight of build yet curvy, graceful and athletic--and many men had desired her over the years. But she had always been too absorbed in her studies and duties to bother with personal relationships.

  "Then four of us are in agreement," said Vangoss. "Do you still oppose, Lebin?"

  "I oppose," said Lebin. "But I do not do so officially, since I would be overruled regardless. But let the records show that I am against this idea."

  "Your protest is noted," said Vangoss.

  What about my protest? thought Kelden. As a blood lore student, and a former rat trapper, Kelden was not unused to danger. But nothing the council said was ever to be taken lightly. If they called something dangerous, that probably meant it was life threatening to a notable degree.

  "Then before I begin," said Amsel, "we should explain everything to the boy. He deserves that much, at least."

  Vangoss focused his white eyes on Kelden. "It was not our intention to keep you in the dark about why you're here, Kelden Delure, though I'm sure we've done a fine job of it. You already know that you may hold Credesar within you, but I shall now explain how we came to learn of that possibility. Amsel Heckenbrau--the lone Arnwolf seer of Valganleer--was trying to determine the will of Blue World by means of his sorcery when he discovered a horrendous truth about you."

  This was the moment Kelden had been dreading, and his legs seemed ready to buckle beneath him. Dark tension lurked in every gaze as the council members scrutinized him, and he could not stop himself from visibly trembling. Theodus clutched his arm in a painful grip, the Dar fiend's claws digging into his flesh. And all Kelden could think about was rivers and rivers of accusing blood.

  "What he learned, " Vangoss continued, "is that you are nothing less than Jarvin's link--the demon Credesar."

  "That's not exactly true!" Lebin Nureck protested. "First of all, Amsel learned that Kelden might bear Credesar within him--not that he himself is the fiend."

  Vangoss ignored the alchemist. "As Salvensteed mentioned," he went on, "Jarvin is the false god of blood, and like the other false gods and their links, he was imprisoned in the Shifting that borders Blue World and our own realm--that purgatory that lies in between. Apparently, Jarvin somehow found a way to get his servant Credesar through the barrier and into this existence by implanting him into your unborn body! We do not yet understand how. You were birthed as a mortal, yet your soul is bonded to Credesar--one of the abhorrent Paltos fiends. If that isn't terrible enough, you are also possibly still in service of Jarvin, linked to him in a way that the Shifting does not defend against. If so, he can exert his will and power through you!"

  Theodus stiffened and yanked his hand away from Kelden. The Dar fiend's yellow eyes were round in shock, and his fangs were exposed in a crooked, humorless grin that signified amazement. But strangely, he wasn't looking at Kelden.

  "I...I can't be him!" Kelden gasped, losing all self control. "I'm just Kelden Delure. I don't want to harm anyone. You are mistaken!"

  Vangoss bowed his head sadly. "I wish it were so, but I think the Arnwolf seer has spoken truthfully. However, there is a test that can determine beyond a doubt if you are indeed Jarvin's link--and what your intent is, whether evil or good. Yet there is a danger--not to you, but to us. If you are Credesar, he will come forth during this test, and we shall have to contain him and send him back. We believe our power is strong enough, but we cannot be completely sure. If we are wrong, Credesar could bring a lot of destruction to Valganleer."

  "If I am Jarvin's Link," said Kelden, "why don't I know it? Why hasn't he already sent his power through me?"

  "We believe there is a simple answer to that," said Vangoss. "You are Jarvin's link, yet you are also Kelden Delure. Your body houses the fiend known as Credesar, but before he can take control of you, he needs to grow strong enough. This could occur slowly--with periodic transformations, or a single transformation that could be permanent. The exact process is still a mystery to us. Either way, eventually Credesar will have the strength to take control of your body, replacing it with his own--and you will cease to exist in this world forever."

  "But this can't be!" Kelden insisted. "And even if it was true, couldn't you stop him? Surely one fiend can't be that powerful."

  "Credesar is a powerful demon," said Vangoss. "And Jarvin's power is drastically increased when he uses Credesar as his link."

  "But what do they want?" said Kelden, unable to comprehend the schemes of beings far greater than himself.

  "To enslave us all," said Vangoss. "The false gods always sought to push the forces of Blue World upon us throughout the ages. No matter what else they tried to do, it always came back to that. Their true goal was to merge the icy wastelands of Blue World with our own realm of Green World--causing our world to be devoured and left cold and barren! Jarvin is considered to be the second most powerful of the false gods, after Ebros. And without a doubt, he is the most bloodthirsty and callous--stopping at nothing to corrupt anything he touches with foul sorcery. It took centuries of warfare to end his empire and finally imprison him in the Shifting with Ebros, Falthune, Yamkata, and Bromathus--the other seers who betrayed us and declared themselves living gods."

  "I still say this is folly," grumbled Lebin. "We're putting all of Valganleer at risk in our haste to learn the truth. We still have a fair amount of time to consider all our options. I just don't understand why this needs to be done now."

  "Credesar could come forth at any time," said Vangoss. "And we would not be assembled and ready to contain him. It must be done now!"

  "Then let's get on with it," said Lebin, disgustedly. "I see you have all decided, and I am overruled. So I suppose there is no need to keep the boy in suspense any longer."

  "Yes, let us proceed," said Amsel. "Our goal is not to inflict emotional strife upon this young man, but to learn if he is indeed Jarvin's link."

  "Very well," said Vangoss. "Amsel, you may carry out the test. Arracks, come forth and stand ready." When Vangoss finished speaking, four Arrack fiends stepped from beyond the torchlight--tall and shadowy figures whose features were hard to identify. Sometimes they appeared to have horns, tails, and
claws, and other times they seemed almost human. Their dark bodies were constantly in motion, shifting between appearances, yet they always kept a vaguely humanoid form.

  Amsel stepped from behind the Stone Judgment and approached. Kelden shrank back, wishing he were anywhere else--even in some filthy mud hole checking traps for diseased rats. He dreaded the forthcoming test with all his heart, but he feared the truth it might reveal even more. What if he were discovered to be Jarvin's link? Surely the high council would have no choice but to destroy him.

  "Relax," Amsel said, "for no harm shall come to you." His words had a peculiar echo to them, but they did nothing to ease Kelden's mind. Amsel began to chant in the whispers of the Arnwolf seers, his words completely unintelligible to the simple blood lore student. The air grew heavy, twitching and shuddering like living flesh, rubbing against Kelden like fumbling hands. His body recoiled and he tried to flee, giving no regard to the consequences. But the Hetheope Guard grabbed him and held him in place, its low growl warning Kelden not to struggle.

  Hatred burned in Amsel's eyes--vile beyond anything Kelden could have imagined. Amsel's hatred was a force that seemingly could kill with pure intent, and every shred of it was focused on Kelden. Amsel's eyes were like lumps of burning coal, and the hatred radiating from them fell upon the terrified student like an executioner's axe, freezing his heart and breath. As Kelden watched, Amsel Heckenbrau changed form. Shifting shadows crept over him. Flesh bubbled and burst into thick shaggy hide, fangs sprouted from a wolf-like muzzle, and arms and legs stretched out long and crooked.

  The hatred that bound Kelden in invisible chains mutated into a black rage, threatening to smother him and weakening his will. Something stirred within him in response. A force even darker than Amsel's hatred rose up and lashed out in retaliation, cleansing Kelden and leaving only calm in its wake. Exhilaration surged through him, and he suddenly felt powerful--beyond mortal fears and pain, and he obeyed no laws but his own. He also noticed that his arms, which were outstretched towards the men standing behind the stone judgment, were covered in dark scales, his fingers ending in claws.

  This new force wanted to push Kelden into the depths and be done with him, but the seers radiated power through the Arrack links that locked him in place. His mind merged with the dark entity that had taken control of him and somehow the two beings became one.

  Kelden--or whoever Kelden was merged with--struggled furiously to break free, but the high council and their links fought back with their power, holding him in place. He hated them--and not just because they desired to keep him from all that was rightfully his--but also because they were seers and seers had always sought his destruction. He felt their hold on him begin to weaken.

  "Who are you?" Vangoss asked him, his voice strained.

  "I'm Kelden Delure!" a voice inside him screamed. But a stronger voice easily overruled that one, smothering it into silence. "I am Credesar, you wretched seer! And if I could break free of your clutches, I'd tear those white eyeballs right out of your head!"

  The moment he uttered those words, the tempest seers shifted positions, their Aldar serpents growing ridged. The mist they vomited out became pale and shimmering, engulfing the Arrack fiends. The Arracks became stable entities, displaying horns, tails, and flesh that did not change form. The power being channeled through them doubled in strength. Kelden--or the being he had become--fought back with all of his might, but to no avail. Now that the enhanced Arrack fiends had doubled the high council's power, the dark force within Kelden was shoved back to the depths from which it had come.

  The council released Kelden from their power. The Arrack links toppled over, exhausted from the strain--devilish shadows that lay twitching. Kelden collapsed to one knee, and he would have fallen hard to the stone floor like the Arrack links were it not for the Hetheope guard who had seized hold of him again.

  The tempest seers clutched each other for support. A couple of them wept openly. Their Aldar serpents lay dead, their life force exhausted. For all of their amplifying power, Aldar serpents were the least durable of the fiends. They would eventually be replaced, but the tempest seers were heartbroken and would not recover easily.

  Kelden's mind went black for a few moments, and when he opened his eyes, Amsel Heckenbrau had returned to his normal appearance and stood behind the stone judgment with the rest of the high council. The Arrack links and tempest seers had departed. Beside him, Theodus was looking more agitated than ever. Kelden had no concept of how much time had passed. For all he knew, weeks could have gone by and this was a whole new meeting.

  He concentrated on standing up. His legs were wobbly, but he managed to get to his feet of his own accord, though the Hetheope Guard still did not release him. He wasn't sure if he had a solid grip on his sanity. He felt reasonably stable on the surface, but underneath lurked things he dared not peer into.

  Was he, then, the being known as Credesar? That question sought to invade his mind, and it took what little will he had left to battle against it.

  "From what we have witnessed," said Vangoss, "we believe you are Jarvin's link. You are Credesar! The Thelaran keepers concur. We also know that Credesar holds malicious intent, and has not renounced his evil or come to this world to escape the darkness of his past. He seeks only vengeance upon us all."

  Kelden glanced towards the keepers. Their yellow faces held shocked and dismayed looks. He glanced at the high council. They too--even Lebin--showed such expressions. And as for Theodus--the Dar fiend stared at Kelden, but apparently did not share in the dismay the others seemed to feel. Instead, his eyes flashed dangerously and his ears twitched slowly in anger. His gnarled hands were knotted into fists.

  "So what's going to happen now?" Kelden mumbled. His voice sounded distant, its tone just as numb as his mind. "Are you going to kill me?"

  "No," said Vangoss. "If we killed you, the transformation might occur instantly and permanently. We just don't know. Therefore, we have only one option. We must send you away from Valganleer to the northern Horrat lands--to the Legaran tower known as Frindagan. There--and only there--do they have the means to separate Credesar from your body and destroy him."

  "This is all a bunch of lies!" Theodus suddenly hissed. "Don't believe him, Kelden. This isn't what it appears to be." The Dar fiend pointed at Vangoss. "You stink of dark sorcery! Don't think that you're going to get away--"

  "Silence!" Vangoss bellowed. "Guard, quiet the Dar fiend and take him to the White Room. He is infested with magical residue and requires a cleansing, and it apparently has affected his judgment and instincts. The disgusting imp makes my flesh crawl. Get him out of my sight!"

  The Hetheope guard released Kelden and seized Theodus, clamping his hand over the Dar fiend's mouth and lifting all five-hundred pounds of him high into the air. Theodus struggled fiercely, wiggling and clawing, but he was no match for the monstrous Hetheope. The Guard shuffled off into the shadows beyond the torchlight, carrying the squat, kicking figure along. Kelden stared after them, baffled. Even at his worst, Theodus never acted like that without good reason. And he'd recently had a cleansing. Dar fiends were suspicious by nature and sometimes had powerful intuition concerning human motivations. What had set Theodus off?

  "You must leave this very day," said Vangoss. "You will travel with only your link--good riddance to him, by the way!--for it would be too dangerous for anyone else to journey with you. Once the transformations begin, Credesar will kill anyone near you whenever he appears--though he might be inclined to spare the Dar fiend, since he shares a remote kinship with it. You must use all you have learned to help you survive."

  "Let the record show," said Amsel Heckenbrau, "that I will stand opposed to sending Kelden and his link off alone--regardless of who Credesar might kill. To me, it seems pure folly, and I can't believe I was overruled on this!"

  Vangoss glared at him. "The issue has been decided. We cannot waste precious lives by sacrificing them to Credesar. And now is not the time to discus
s this, Amsel. Or do you ask for a second vote at the risk of expulsion from the high council?"

  Amsel hesitated, his face grim. Then he shook his head.

  Vangoss nodded. "I thought as much."

  Kelden stood in silence for a few moments. At last he said, "What if I get to that tower, and they..." Unable to speak of it, he went on, "Will I be killed?"

  "You stand a good chance of surviving the process," said Vangoss. "Once Credesar is drawn out of you and slain, you will be escorted back here to resume your studies. You will be able to lead a normal life."

  "Yes, we think the process should go smoothly," Lebin said, "but the journey itself will be the most dangerous part of this affair." The alchemist bowed his head. "It will be far more dangerous than what awaits you at Frindagan. The Tembros lands, which lie between here and Frindagan, are unmerciful. Yet the Wisterus wastelands, which you also must travel through, are even worse."

  "Your odds of survival on the journey are indeed poor," said Orlar Callick, who prided himself on his honesty. "But you must find ways to beat those odds, and not just for the sake of your own survival. Remember, your death could instantly free Credesar into our world."

  "Believe in your abilities," said Junos, and she somehow managed a smile. "You are a student of Valganleer, and you can survive the trials that await you."

  "Your teacher, Lendrith Bramas," said Vangoss, "has been assigned to help you prepare for the trip. He awaits you in the Low Room of the Meditation Hall. Upon leaving here, you shall go straight to that chamber and make ready to depart. Speak of this to no one, as we do not wish to cause panic in Valganleer. By nightfall, you and your link must be past the West Gate. And you must never return here, or visit any city, until Credesar is destroyed."

  Kelden stared at the high council, searching for anything that might mean this nightmare was not actually real. But their faces were grim and unyielding. Then it was true. He actually was Credesar, unless they were lying to him as Theodus had seemed to think. He needed time alone to ponder everything, to gather his wits--and most importantly he needed to talk to Theodus and find out why the Dar fiend had made such an accusation. Either way, Kelden stood on the brink of something massive and strange, a mystery that would not be solved anytime soon and was certain to take him places he dared not try to imagine.