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Chapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three / Chapter Four / Chapter Five / Chapter Six / Chapter Seven / Chapter Eight / Chapter Nine / Chapter Ten / Chapter Eleven / Chapter Twelve / Chapter Thirteen / Chapter Fourteen / Chapter Fifteen / Chapter Sixteen / Chapter Seventeen / Chapter Eighteen / Chapter Nineteen / Chapter Twenty / Chapter Twenty-One / Chapter Twenty-Two / Chapter Twenty-Three / Chapter Twenty-Four 

Chapter Twenty-Five – Scercendusa Burning

The guards were shouting, the beasts were growling, and the crowd was cheering, all those sounds woven together to create a rhythm of pounding blood and anger. Claw jumped out of the way, as soon as he released the beasts kept behind the wooden doors, and Varg followed his partner with his eyes for just a moment, as he noticed a group of guards rushing toward him from the left. Without hesitation, he jumped as high as he could and his hands caught the edge of the wall, and then, there was an unstoppable force pushing him up, and he didn’t need to look to know who it was. The next moment, he was up in the tribunes, pushing people out of his way, dashing through the crowd. Without a backward glance, he knew that Claw followed.

Hands jutted out from the crowd to touch him or grab at him, but he swatted them away, raising yells of confusion in his wake. He wasn’t some hero, not for such people, but who could truly explain to them what they were, why it was wrong, and how they should mend their ways? For all his life, he had believed that he fought for good. Now, the only good he could see existed in his closest friends. The people of Scercendusa were a cruel tribe, even crueler than the orc tribes roaming the Great Barren, if they reveled so much in the death of their kin under the hooves and in the maws of bloodthirsty beasts.

The guards tried to follow them, but the unleashed beasts attacked them from all sides. Their cries of terror made Varg stop, but Claw barreled into his back from behind. “They’re doomed by their own designs,” the bearshifter told him in a grim voice. Then, louder, he shouted, “All of you who want to live, run for your lives!”

Not even Claw’s powerful voice could rise easily over the uproar, so only a handful of those around them understood what they were being urged to do. That was all for the better, it seemed, because several people broke from the crowded tribunes and began running toward the gates that served as both entrance and exit from the arena. A few followed them at first, then a rising wave of confusion rose. As words passed from mouth to ear, the wave turned slowly into a tide, and it began to accelerate, the cheering turning into a wail, as someone stepped on another human being in their effort to get out of the death trap that the arena was quickly becoming.

One of the beasts jerked its head toward the tribunes, Varg saw when he risked a look behind him. Enticed by a new, less dangerous target, the animal broke from the herd and began careening toward the area where the people were pouring out of the place. The walls were only made of wood there, so the beast burst through, sending splinters everywhere.

“We should get out of here,” Claw bellowed at him over the yelling of the crowd, now terrorized by the impending doom swarming at their feet.

“No need to tell me that,” Varg shouted back. It was getting harder and harder to cut through the people trying to save their lives, and Varg had to do his best and beyond to not crush anyone by mistake.

But the scared men and women began to form a wall of bodies packed tightly together and Varg, even as he towered over them through his sheer height, realized that getting to the upper edge of the tribunes had become impossible.

“Shift, Varg!” Claw roared, his sonorous voice barely cutting through the screaming.

Varg tensed for a moment. They didn’t want to attract that sort of attention, did they? But it seemed like there was no other way, so the following moment, the crowd around him screamed for a different reason. Maybe they didn’t see that kind of thing in Scercendusa, but the time for choices was long gone now. He jumped over them, the scared people trying to get out of his way.

In just a few leaps, he was where he needed to be, and he looked down. Once more, he was pushed from behind, and then his paws crashed into the ground, while the force of the fall coursed through his weathered body with a wave of pain that soon receded.

“No time to dally,” Claw growled at him.

Out in the street, the passers-by were starting to understand that something unfathomable was taking place at the arena, and most of them had already crowded together, avid for a new type of entertainment. They were insane to choose to stay there, Varg thought, but this wasn’t the kind of situation where he could call people to reason through wit and well-crafted speech.

Moreover, he was in his wolf’s hide, which immediately drew attention to him. The denizens gathered to witness what was happening began shouting and pointing at him and Claw with raised hands.

“To the wall!” Claw cried out, and Varg didn’t question him. If they were to get out of there and lose the curious crowds, it was their best choice. And following the wall, they would get to the domestikos’ palace, which was the place they needed to be.

More and more inhabitants were alerted that something was going on, and with them, more guards appeared.

Varg rushed to the nearest stairs leading to the top of the wall, with Claw on his tail. Two guards tried to stop them, and they pushed them aside, avoiding the sharp tips of their spears at the last moment. The guards rolled down the stairs, grunting and yelling.

“We planned to pass through the city as unnoticed as possible,” Varg told Claw as they ran side by side.

“That plan flew out of the window, puppy, the moment we saw those beasts.”

They reached the top of the wall and stopped for a moment. Most of the guards were down in the streets now, trying to calm the people, which meant that for the moment they were no longer the hunted, at least not for every living soul sworn to protect the city.

And, indeed, the guards had more pressing matters on their hands. A couple of beasts had rushed into the street from the arena. Claw and Varg looked down for a moment. The guards seemed adept at slashing through the throats of those wild animals with their weapons, and soon, their blood was pouring down the small square stones paving the main road in the area, seeping through the cracks.

“They’re dealing with them,” Claw said surely. “What we need to worry about are our own hides, puppy.”

“Yes,” Varg agreed. “Let’s make ourselves scarce before they realize they have a wolf and a bear in their midst. They’ll finish those wild beasts soon enough.”

Varg had barely said those words, when a loud crashing sound made their heads snap up. Not too far away, one of the buildings that appeared to serve most probably as an asylum like the ones the frail man from before had told them about, was spitting smoke into the sky.

“What could be happening?” Varg murmured.

A band of men carrying torches broke into the street from the same building and clashed with the guards that were barely finished killing the escaped beasts from the arena.

“I’m afraid we cannot afford to sit around and figure it out,” Claw replied.

The wail from the arena and its surroundings seemed to spread like wildfire. Varg rushed alongside Claw, while his eyes took in the chaos as smoke began to rise here and there.

“Did we do this?” he asked the question aloud, although he had wanted to keep it to himself.

“Is the spark guilty of the fire?” Claw asked back, as they ran along the wall. “Or is it the one who gathered the dry grass and built it into a pyre waiting to be lit?”

Varg fell silent. “There are fires everywhere.”

“We might have arrived here at a most inauspicious moment,” Claw said. “But we’re not known for picking the best moments, now, are we?”

“You can say that again,” Varg agreed. “Toward the domestikos’ palace, then. But what if Toru is not there?”

“We need to start looking for him somewhere in this haystack,” Claw replied.

Varg thought the same. From their vantage on the wall, they could see Scercendusa in the twilight as a field of rooftops and towers, now ablaze here and there.

***

As he walked toward his destination, Duril observed how people were growing scarcer and scarcer, most probably enticed by the promise of a comfortable bed and a good night’s sleep. If everything went well, and Toru defeated the evil that had tortured so many for so long, they would be able to enjoy more nights like this, without ever knowing that a hero of the people was in their midst.

But first, he needed to reach the domestikos’ palace so that he could learn where he should search for his friends once they got inside the city. At best, tonight would be only a scouting trip that would help him learn the lay of the land. He wondered if Pie and Moth would learn by tomorrow whether Toru was already there. They were part of that mysterious tribe that treasured the truth that Toru was destined for great things.

That didn’t mean that Toru would destroy Scercendusa as the Sakka thought. Duril knew that the choice would be difficult, and that Toru would need a good friend by his side to support his decisions.

His nostrils twitched as he sensed something in the air. According to the map, he was getting closer and closer to the domestikos’ palace. It had been quite a trip so far, and he still had plenty of ground to cover, but his feet never tired as he thought of Toru and the important quest he carried on his shoulders.

The evening air brought with it a whiff of smoke. Duril wondered about it. It was still summer and the people of Scercendusa didn’t need to burn wood to be warm in their homes, right? Had a fire broken out somewhere? A place like this magnificent city had to have civil servants in charge of handling any such potential disaster. Fires were probably commonplace here.

Still, the way that smoke smelled made him feel something akin to restlessness right in the pit of his stomach. Duril hurried as he walked down the street, leaving the taverns and beerhouses behind with their cheerful patrons and blithesome lights. The few people who were still out at that hour seemed to feel the same as he did, as they began murmuring among themselves and turning their heads.

It wasn’t possible to see over the buildings and observe the place that had to be burning, not from the street, so Duril slunk along the wall and began walking up the stairs that led to the top of it. Once there, he looked into the distance, and his heart caught in his throat.

There were fires to the south, here and there, and more were springing up.

“It’s burning!” someone cried out from below. “Scercendusa is burning!”

Duril grabbed the edge of the parapet to steady himself. He was so caught up in the sight of those fires bursting into life everywhere that he missed the cadence of armored feet approaching.

“Citizen,” someone growled at him, “get back to your place.”

Duril started and took in the guard that had spoken to him, but he found himself looking at his back, as the man seemed busy heading elsewhere.

Something was going on. Something that, for some reason, was poised to engulf all of Scercendusa. Duril ducked and chose the darker part of the wall and began walking slowly while crouched. More guards rushed by him but paid him no mind, in their hurry to comply with the orders they must have received.

The domestikos’ palace was situated close to the walls, according to the map he had taken from Granius’ accounting house. That meant that if he just kept on walking, he would get there. If the entire city was thrown into chaos, how would Toru find his way and complete his quest?

And what was the source of that chaos? Duril hurried, as much as he could, given that he still needed to keep himself low to avoid being seen by the alerted guards.

***

The procession stopped in front of two large doors that opened to allow those strange monks to step inside. Toru didn’t remember if he had seen those doors before, but it was just as possible that he had been walked to his door by the domestikos as they came from the opposite direction. He wasn’t sure; the palace seemed a labyrinth of corridors and rooms that all looked the same, so it was difficult to tell which way he had come and where he was going.

Good thing that he could see in the dark so well. He moved silently behind the monks and walked inside. The doors closed behind him, making no noise whatsoever.

It looked like the throne room, Toru realized, the one where Ewart Kona had taken him and encouraged him to sit on the seat of power to see how it felt. But what was the procession doing there? And at that hour?

He waited in the shadows until the dark figures all knelt on the floor and stopped their frightening hymn. From behind the throne, someone emerged, and Toru tensed when he saw that it was Ewart Kona standing tall before that strange audience.

“My friends,” the domestikos said in a voice that didn’t appear to belong to him, as it was deep and cavernous and nothing like Ewart Kona’s pleasant speech, “we finally have our enemy where we want him.”

Toru perked up his ears. Was he the enemy? He tensed, ready to pounce at the first sign of aggression.

One of the dark figures kneeling on the floor stood. He pushed back his hood, and Toru frowned as he saw who it was. Blayves, he thought. Of course, when the house of merchants had crumbled down, Blayves had escaped. Toru couldn’t say he was surprised to see that evil merchant here. Evil begets evil, he told himself and waited, although he wanted to jump over everyone, reach that murderer of men, women, and children, and leave him without breath. He still needed to understand what role the domestikos played in all this. Right now, he didn’t sound like himself, which meant that he might very well be possessed.

“Where is he?” Blayves hissed. He didn’t appear as subservient as the other dark figures kneeling there. “I want to feast on his blood.”

“Patience,” Ewart Kona barked. “He’s but a fool, and I cannot understand how a powerful being like yourself couldn’t destroy him. Do I need to do everything myself?”

Blayves didn’t cower under the reprimand. “He may be that, but his powers are greater than any I’ve seen in all his ancestors before him.”

Toru’s ears twitched. In a few pounces, he could reach Ewart Kona and leave him breathless, but he wasn’t sure yet that was the only way. Duril, in his kindness, would advise him to wait and not hurry to pass judgement; if Ewart Kona was possessed, it wasn’t his fault, and killing him would be a mistake. Varg, in his wisdom, would tell him to assess the situation and increase his chances of success without spilling blood unnecessarily. And Claw, in his experience, would probably tell him to pay attention and learn all he could about those sneaky merchants, or monks, or whatever they were.

So, he waited, more and more curious about what lay inside the mind of the evil creature that was probably inhabiting Ewart Kona’s human body now.

“Or maybe,” the evil spoke through the domestikos’ mouth, “your power wanes while your belief shakes.”

“How can you even say such a thing?” Blayves shouted. “We have no home now!” He gestured at the prone figures behind him. “I was forced to remake all my brethren from my own flesh and blood.”

Toru recoiled in disgust as Blayves shook off the long robe, displaying nothing but bones on which strips of skin and flesh hung like moss from a macabre tree.

“I,” Blayves continued, the words spat out of his mouth like poison, “even destroyed my humble servant, my most loyal companion, so that you can have this again!”

“Your servant was not meant for immortality,” Ewart Kona said placidly. “To cry over such a thing is beneath you, Blayves. And you gave up on that place too soon. I come from sea, and what is it that Scercendusa doesn’t have? Hmm?” He waited, as if he expected the undead merchant to answer.

“Your power has grown and grown over the last few millennia,” Blayves said. “And what do I get for being your loyal servant? You called me here, where I suffocate without my pearls!”

“You lost your pearls because you were weak and unprepared!”

Toru forced himself not to look away, as the domestikos slashed the air with one hand, and through a magic of some kind, sent Blayves’ head rolling across the floor. One of the dark figures hurried to capture it and place it back on the disgusting body’s neck.

“Now, you are here to serve me and take your revenge,” Ewart Kona continued as if he hadn’t decapitated his subordinate just moments earlier.

“And how will I do that?” Blayves barked at him.

“You are so useless and stupid that you cannot even sense him?” Ewart Kona smiled, and Toru felt a chill coursing down his spine. That smile wasn’t any different from the one he had seen earlier on the domestikos’ face. Was he so easy to fool, after all? “Step out of the shadows, Toru,” he said, and this time, he used the voice from before, not the cavernous tone he had been using in this room.

There was no reason for him to stay hidden, it seemed. He wasn’t afraid, so he walked forward, while everyone turned their heads to look at him. It was no surprise to see their faceless heads again. “Are you Hekastfet?” he asked the domestikos directly.

Ewart Kona laughed. “Your eyes tell you the truth, young tiger. I’m the domestikos of Scercendusa, and I go by the name Ewart Kona.”

Toru set his jaw hard. “You’re not fooling me again. I’m here to destroy you!”

“Destroy me? And how will you do that?” the domestikos taunted him.

Toru growled and leaped toward him. He crashed against the tall throne, as Ewart Kona disappeared from right under his eyes and paws. Confused for a moment, he turned to search for him. Now, the domestikos was standing to the left, a few good feet from him. “Nice circus trick,” he said. “I can chase you all night if need be.”

“You can chase me for an eternity, but, lucky you, I don’t have the patience for that. Seize him,” he ordered the others.

The dark figures all rose at the same time. Blayves snarled, showing every one of his teeth, and rushed toward him. Toru only had to leap out of the way, but the undead merchants soon clustered around him, circling him faster and faster. He slashed through them, but it felt as if he was cutting through nothing but air with his long powerful claws.

First, he felt one hind leg being cut from under him. He tried to shake off whatever it was that was climbing up his leg, but it had the consistency of fabric, one tougher than anything else he had felt in his life. The same happened to his hind leg, and soon, he couldn’t use half of his body. Realizing the danger, he shifted back into his human, and that made that shroud prison drop to the floor.

“Now!” Ewart Kona bellowed.

Toru turned toward him, determined to strangle the evil out of him. But, right that moment, a piercing pain shooting through the side of his neck stopped him dead in his tracks. He put one hand up and found the hilt of a dagger buried in his neck.

“Finally.” Blayves’ ugly grin was the last thing he saw as darkness took him in the shape of a shroud covering his eyes and his entire body along with them.

***

“To the palace, to the palace!” someone shouted.

Duril risked one look below and saw how people were pouring out of the houses and into the street, alerted by the smell of smoke and the patrolling guards that seemed bent on stopping them from fleeing.

“Back into your homes!” the guards bellowed, as they tried to keep the crowds at bay.

“So that you can set fire to us like rats?”

Duril didn’t wait to see what followed. The city was suddenly gripped by a strange fever, but he had no time to lose. He felt it in his bones that, with the danger that traveled through the city like rapid waters through rocks on a steep mountain, came another, and this one was like a shard of ice next to his heart.

He forgot about being cautious. Just like the rest of the crowds below, he knew that he needed to rush to the domestikos’ palace to seek answers at least, if not salvation.

***

“Look, Claw,” Varg said as he ran and ran along the wall. “More of the city is burning now.”

“I can see that,” Claw confirmed. “Let’s just keep running!”

Their bodies were stretched to the limit. They were resilient creatures, but the smoke rising was filling their lungs, crowding the clean air out. Varg couldn’t understand what was going on, and it was safe to bet that Claw didn’t, either.

Tall towers grouped together rose in the distance.

“That has to be the palace!” he shouted and pushed himself to run faster, ignoring the burning in his chest.

Claw followed him closely. “We’re getting there, puppy. Call me a fool, but I sense that Toru is close.”

Varg was happy he wasn’t the only one to believe such a thing. His gut and heart were telling him the same, but he had discounted them as being nothing but his desire to reach his beloved friend.

Crowds of people were gathered at the foot of giant stairs leading to the palace, he noticed as less and less distance was between that place and them. And rows and rows of guards were pushing the mob back, although from the top of the wall it appeared to be a push and pull game in which thousands were involved.

“Climb on my back, puppy!” Claw shouted at him.

“I can leap over them,” Varg replied.

“Just do as I say!”

He didn’t protest further and jumped on Claw’s back, digging his claws into the thick fur.

“And now, hold on tight!” Claw ordered.

Varg barely had time to follow this command, because Claw rose on his hind legs and roared so loudly that both the hysterical mob and the guards stopped their push and pull.

“Monster!” someone from the crowd shouted, and right away, cries of despair erupted from everywhere.

Varg understood that something was going on, because Claw’s shadow over the crowd grew larger, and he himself found that he was high in the air. Was Claw growing? The bearshifter leaped effortlessly over the rows of guards and flew up the stairs, eating the remaining distance between them and the top as if it was nothing.

“Flea bag,” he said while struggling to keep himself on his friend’s furry back, “are my eyes playing tricks on me, or have you suddenly turned into ten bears?”

“Just a trick I learned,” Claw replied. “Enjoy it while it lasts, ‘cause it’s not going to last long now.”

Varg didn’t have the time to ask why that was, because Claw shrank under him just as they reached the top. The bearshifter collapsed on the flat ground, and Varg rolled away from him. Claw looked like he could use a bit of rest, so he hurried to his side and licked his ears.

“Well, it’s not like I don’t appreciate the thought,” Claw said drily, “but can you save that for later? I believe we need to get inside the palace.”

Varg shifted into his human and offered Claw his hand when he did the same. “Do you think we should knock?” he asked as he turned to face the tall, closed gates.

“And wake people up? Nah, it’s more polite to just sneak inside and look for our friend without disturbing others’ sleep.”

Varg got the humor. He doubted, however, that anyone in Scercendusa would be sleeping tonight. Behind them, the city was burning.

***

Toru couldn’t move his arms or legs, and not even open his mouth, as every little patch of him was covered by that dark shroud. However, he could hear what was going on around him, so he focused on the single sense he could still use.

“And outside?” he heard Blayves asking.

His body was being moved, as far as he could tell.

“I don’t need the city anymore or its souls now,” Ewart Kona replied.

“But why? If another tiger comes--”

Ewart Kona, or whoever was inhabiting his body, let out a hoarse laugh. “This is the last tiger. My reign finally begins from now until forever.”

Blayves joined him with laughter of his own. “Indeed, what a brilliant plan! To destroy Nelsikkar so that no one would ever contest you again, master!”

“Now, there is only one small problem left to address,” Ewart Kona said.

“What problem?” Blayves inquired eagerly. Toru was just as eager to learn what it was, as well.

“Those pesky little rats,” the domestikos said with disgust. “They always seem to slip through my fingers, no matter how many I destroy.”

“Haven’t you dealt with them yet?” Blayves asked in a haughty tone.

“Do you enjoy having that ugly head on your shoulders?” Ewart Kona asked in reply.

Blayves kept silent, so Toru understood his unspoken answer.

“That is a good job for you to prove your fealty,” Ewart Kona said. “Use your monsters. You know that I will only allow one servant to spend eternity with me.”

“Yes, master,” Blayves said in a whiny voice. “I’ll see to it. But maybe after the city burns to the ground? They hide in the sewers, don’t they?”

They had to be talking about the Sakka, Toru realized. His heart sank. He had no idea how to free himself from the shroud keeping him completely motionless, and the chances were that it would take him a while to figure out how to get out of it. That much time wasn’t something that the city, or the Sakka had at their disposal. He needed to be out of that strange prison, and fast.

Just as he thought that, the tension around his upper arms appeared to fade, and Toru twitched his shoulders, realizing happily that he was no longer held snugly by the thing. In a matter of moments, his entire body was released, and he jumped to his feet the moment he was free.

He stared around him. He was in a windowless room, and only torches burning on the walls allowed those inside to see to walk around without tripping at every step. The strips of fabric that had kept him in place turned into the army of faceless undead merchants behind Blayves he had dealt with before.

Without thinking, he rushed toward the head of the merchants, but Ewart Kona lifted one arm and Toru crashed into it. The force of the blow sent him sprawling back. He growled and jumped to his feet again.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the domestikos advised him in a voice dripping with false benevolence. “You see this room, Toru? It is a special room. It is where you will die so I can live forever.”

Toru stopped his attack to assess his surroundings. Yes, he could tell it was a strange room, but when had he ever been stopped by something as trifling as that before? “I have no intention of dying, Hekastfet,” he said. “I’m here to stop you, and I will, forever.”

“I would indulge you in your fruitless attempts, but after so many millennia of battling your kind, it has all become somewhat tiresome. Forgive an old soul for not wanting to play games with someone as young as you.”

Toru sneered. “You don’t have a soul. And don’t underestimate me. I’m here to put an end to you.”

Ewart Kona waved at Blayves. “What are you waiting for? Go, do as I told you to.”

Blayves gave a quick nod and slid over the floor with all the others following. Toru watched, his eyebrows furrowed, curious to see the door they would leave through, but it didn’t look like there was any door. They disappeared through the walls as if they were thin air.

“Do you see the power of my magic, Toru?” the domestikos asked. “Without me, there would be nothing like it. I could even use it to turn you into my loyal servant.”

“As if,” Toru said with a snarl. “You just promised Blayves that.”

“It doesn’t mean I intend to do so. He’s irksome and disgusting to look at. But the last of the Olliandran, on the other hand, would remind me each day of my eternity of my sweet victory.”

“Don’t you ever dare,” Toru hissed. He shifted into his tiger and pounced on the domestikos.

As before, Ewart Kona disappeared and appeared in another place. “Are you determined to be this tedious?”

Toru reconsidered his strategy. If there was a way to vanquish Hekastfet, or Ewart Kona, whoever that was, it had to be other than a direct attack. “Answer me one thing,” he said.

“Will you stop attacking me if I do?”

“Yes.”

“Then go ahead.”

“Are you Hekastfet possessing Ewart Kona? What did you do with the old man?”

The domestikos laughed. “That would be two things, but I’m in a generous mood today. Ewart Kona doesn’t exist, tiger. No domestikos of Scercendusa ever truly lived. They have always been me, and I them.”

TBC

Next chapter 

Comments

MM

Oh my gosh! It is always cliffhangers!! But I love these characters so much. Oh sweet Turo you must know that your friends are coming to help you vanquish the evil! Hang on!

Laura S. Fox

Sorry about the cliffhangers, Margaret... we're getting close to a big conclusion, though!