Chapter 56 #2
I wasn’t surprised by his hideous appearance. He appeared almost human, if you could ignore the pallor of his skin and the way darkness clung to his robes. It was different from my shadows. Mine weren’t evil.
The Soul Weaver’s bald head was marked with golden studs that created an unsettling pattern across his skull. Deep bruises ringed his black, sunken eyes, while his gaunt features gave him the look of someone who had fed on death for far too long.
In his hands, he carried a staff. Not wooden like the ones used by most wizards. This one was made of bones with flecks of skin.
"Welcome." He smiled, revealing rows and rows of sharp jagged teeth and a forked tongue like a serpent’s. "I've been expecting you and your Bloodsworn, Lord Nightblade." His gravelly voice echoed around us like thunder.
“Have you now?” I stepped forward.
He laughed at me as if I was some weak thing. “Indeed. I should tell you that you are out of your league and you should walk back through that door and go home. But I doubt you’ll listen to me.”
The fury burning inside my soul flared. “You’re right. I’m not going to listen. But you’re going to give me answers.”
"Is that so, Lord Nightblade?"
"Who are you working for? And cut the shit. If you were expecting me, you know I know about Kyphuus."
More laughter rumbled from his chest. "Of course. I wouldn't be the renowned Soul Weaver if I weren’t aware of such a basic thing."
Basic thing. Motherfucker. I'd seen some terrible things in my lifetime, but the despicable image of those dead Fae's mutilated bodies was by far the worst. "Tell me who you're working for. Or you're dead."
"A threat. I like that. You definitely have some spark, boy. Just like your father. Let’s see if you fight like him, too.”
Before I could respond, his form began to shift and writhe. His robes dissolved into shadow that clung to his changing flesh like liquid darkness. The golden studs on his skull started to glow with the same malevolent green light as the one that pulsed around the doorway.
His bones began cracking and reshaping with wet, grinding, sickly sounds.
Then his pale skin rippled and stretched, taking on a mottled, scaled texture.
The bruised hollows around his eyes deepened and spread until his entire face began to elongate, the jaw unhinging with a sickening pop.
His human features turned inside out, flesh folding and reforming into something predatory and animalistic.
My breath stilled as the transformation accelerated. His spine extended with audible snaps, vertebrae multiplying as his body grew longer and more serpentine.
Arms and legs merged into his torso as muscles and bones restructured themselves into coils of armored flesh like my dragons, stretching nearly thirty feet long.
A breath later, the Soul Weaver had become a basilisk. But quite unlike anything from the old stories where legends spoke of serpents that turned men to stone with a glance.
This abomination was something far more sinister.
An eyeless skull gazed back at us. And somehow, it still seemed to watch our every move. Rows of razor-sharp teeth filled its gaping maw, and when it hissed, the sound reverberated through the cavern like a death knell.
"Fuck, take cover!" Bastian shouted, raising his sword as the beast lunged for us.
Alaric and I dove to the left while Bastian ran to the right, flanking the beast.
Our movements threw him off, but not long enough for any impact. His massive tail whipped toward Alaric, who just about managed to roll out of the way. The beast’s tail shattered the wall, sending chunks of rock flying.
"Spread out!" I yelled, dodging as the basilisk's head snapped toward me, jaws wide enough to swallow me whole.
Bastian and Alaric split away from me, and we darted through the air, forcing the creature to divide its attention. We might not have our magic, but nothing could move faster than us.
The basilisk's body coiled and twisted, filling the cavern as it tried to corner us against the skeletal walls. I saw an opening and took it, lunging forward with my sword raised above my head.
I brought the blade down between the scales along its flank. Black ichor sprayed from the wound, but the creature barely seemed to notice.
Fuck. If that were any other creature, it would be dead, but this monstrosity moved as if I’d done nothing. And he caught me off guard. Its tail lashed out, striking me across the chest and sending me sprawling.
I had to unfurl my wings to stop myself from crashing into the wall.
Alaric reacted fast, rushing toward the basilisk with his axe raised. He vaulted into the air and swung down with brutal force, targeting the beast's neck, but the armored hide deflected the strike.
The basilisk turned its attention to him, and that's when it opened its maw and sprayed a stream of acid that hissed and bubbled.
I ran to him, but I was too far. Thankfully, Bastian threw himself against Alaric just in time to knock him out of the way. Instead of hitting Alaric, the acid struck the cavern wall, and the stone dissolved immediately.
"Get down, Wolfe!" Bastian yelled.
I dove behind a rocky outcropping as the basilisk spewed another round of acid spray, melting the ground where I'd been standing.
The fucking beast slithered forward with terrifying grace, coming for me. We had to finish this now. It was clear I wasn’t going to get any information from the necromancer, but if I killed him, at least the enemy wouldn’t have him.
I waited for him to come closer, so we’d all have a chance to attack, then I shouted, “Ilmerie!” It was the command I gave when we were to attack as one to take our target down.
In one swift move, the three of us attacked, our blades striking the basilisk’s hide as we landed on top of it.
The beast's head snapped toward Bastian, who barely managed to get his sword up in time to block the strike. The impact sent him sliding backward, his boots scraping against scales as he fought to maintain his footing.
I rolled between its loops, and as I observed its neck, an idea came to me. There was no armor where the neck joined the rest of the body. That had to be its weak spot.
As the basilisk focused on Bastian and Alaric, I sprinted up along its coiled body, using the creature's scales as footholds. The basilisk writhed, trying to shake me loose, but I held on, then leapt into the air and drove my sword deep into its neck.
The creature let out a shriek that made my ears ring, thrashing wildly as I twisted the blade. With one final, savage cut, I severed its head completely.
The massive body convulsed before tumbling to the ground, then it went still, black blood pooling beneath the remains.
Alaric was about to say something but stopped when the basilisk's body began to shimmer before it disappeared into nothing, revealing a truth that chilled me to the bone.
Fucking fuck.
We'd been fighting an illusion.
As if in answer to my thoughts, the Soul Weaver’s laugh rumbled through the cave. Then he appeared before us with that big toothy grin on his face.
“Bravo, bravo.” He clapped. “I knew you’d give me a good show.”
“What the fuck is going on here?” I stepped forward, ready to rush at him and cleave him in half, but the ground between us fell away.
“I’ll tell you what’s happening. But only because it adds to the entertainment value of tonight’s showdown.” He laughed. “This is what’s happening: you, Wolfe Nightblade, left what was most valuable to you at home and came out here with your best warriors to get me.”
“What are you talk—” The words died in my throat.
What was most valuable to me.
Gods. There was no question about what that was.
Elariya.
I raised my sword and growled. “What does she have to do with this?”
“Everything, my boy. Interesting mage you have there. Power in the making. I was so impressed that she sensed me at the library when I used my best cloaking spell.”
“That was you?” I grated out, pointing my sword at him.
“Poor Wolfe Nightblade, so blinded by love he couldn’t see the devils watching him and his flock all this time. Did you seriously think you could keep your little secret without anyone finding out? The girl is your tracker. The path to the ring.”
I couldn’t even answer. I had been a fool, thinking my actions had gone unnoticed. But all this time, I was worried about my uncle when there were bigger things at stake.
“That stupid Marcus thought he could be a hero for his king.” The asshole laughed out loud. “He was brave, I’ll give him that. And yes, he did expose us. But all we did was flip things around to our advantage.”
“You won’t get to her.”
“Why? Because the wards at Vyrenth Hollow are set up to keep people like me out?” He tapped the side of his head, pretending to think. “Oh, we found a way inside.”
“There’s no fucking way.”
“Yet we found one.” He spread his arms wide and smiled. “Things have a way of working out when you keep trying. The Ruskiel didn’t get your mage on the ship for us, but we’ll get her tonight.”
Fuck. Gods above. The Ruskiel?
Fuck! It was all part of the same plot.
And I was always being watched. I’d thought the Ruskiel attack was suspicious; now I knew I’d been right.
This was a trap.
Everything was a trap. To get her.
Elariya.
Panic made me try to portal. Then I remembered I couldn’t use my powers here.
I lashed out my wings and shot toward the exit before anyone could say anything more. Alaric and Bastian followed, matching my frantic pursuit.
Behind us, the necromancer chanted, “Told you to go home.”
I wasn’t listening anymore.
Vyrenth Hollow was under attack.
And I wasn’t there.
Gods help me, I might already be too late.