20. Malorg #2
“Let’s skip the part where you deny it and I call you out. I don’t have the patience. I’ve seen the duskflame on the delegates, and it has your fingerprints all over it.”
Pelorak studied him for a long moment before leaning back in his chair. He shrugged, his thin lips turning up in an amused smirk. Malorg’s jaw tightened. The Dark-cursed Infernal was threatening to ruin everything, and he had the gall to look pleased with himself.
“Fine. I’ve been using Sajix and Wiriv to implant a minor curse on the Celestial delegation. Nothing overtly harmful,” he said when Malorg grimaced. “They may be our insufferable rivals, but that doesn’t mean I want to see them fall to the Void. Consider it a…contingency.”
“What kind of contingency?” Malorg’s mind returned to Sarilian.
Being here had ensnared him in Infernal games, just as Malorg had feared. Yet another reason to keep him at arm’s length, as far away from Malorg and Pelorak and the Dusklands as possible.
Pelorak dissolved into shadows. Malorg tensed, readying duskflame to shape into a blade. But Pelorak didn’t move to attack. He reappeared across the room near one of the dozen tapestries draped along his office’s walls.
No, not a tapestry, Malorg realized, sidling closer. A map of the Immortal Realm.
Pelorak stabbed a finger against the map. “Every year, the Celestials grow stronger while we weaken, their borders expanding along with their supply of souls. If we are to survive, to dominate as is our right, then we need to fight back.”
“Isn’t that the point of these Accords—to revise the Covenant on more favorable terms?”
Pelorak snorted, his eyes still riveted to the map.
Malorg followed the Aspect’s gaze and saw that the map didn’t only show their borders, the Dusklands and Dawnlands outlined in black and white, respectively.
It also conveyed the relative strength of each side.
The Dawnlands blazed while the Dusklands… well, did not.
“Revising the Covenant is a lost cause. Even if we could convince those stubborn fools on the Dawn Council to part with their precious traditions, whatever we passed would represent little more than a stopgap.” Pelorak’s mouth twisted into a hateful sneer.
Duskflame burned along his outstretched fingers as he clenched them into a fist. “Allowing Celestials free reign in our lands, relying on their compassion and mercy for our survival, means all but surrendering our way of life—permitting their naive ideals to corrupt and subvert our own. Such a compromise is utterly unacceptable.”
For the second time in an hour, Malorg felt like he’d had the ground yanked out from under him. “But if you had no intention of honoring the Accords, then why—”
“Why call for them at all?” A coy smile returned to Pelorak’s face as he unclenched his fist and tapped the Dusklands on the map. “Because, old friend, I have devised a method to equalize our strength more than any treaty ever could.”
“Your curse,” Malorg whispered with sudden understanding.
Pelorak nodded. “All but undetectable to the Celestials, it will allow us to spy on their operations, gather intelligence—even use them as a conduit to work our own magic at a distance.” Pelorak let out a delighted chuckle that made Malorg’s skin crawl.
“Once established, the possibilities are limitless, from siphoning off a portion of their incoming souls, to subtly influencing the Dawn Council’s decisions, to perhaps even gradually claiming portions of the Dawnlands itself!
And since the enchantment is hidden within their own dawnflame… ”
“It won’t be stopped by the Dawnlands’ influence,” Malorg said, aghast. “That’s why you’ve been so adamant about the Accords continuing.
You don’t care about their completion—in fact, you said yourself you don’t want the Covenant to change.
You just want to present an illusion of progress to keep the Celestials here long enough to finish implanting your curse. ”
Pelorak’s black eyes sparkled with malicious mirth. “Precisely. The enchantment remains too weak in its current state to last. If we wish for it to serve as an indefinite conduit, we require more time to strengthen it. A few more months, a year at most, should suffice.”
“But—what about the voidspawn? Your reports of increased activity, the impending invasion?” He read the answer in Pelorak’s smirk. Eternal Dark, I’m a fool. “There is no invasion,” he said slowly. “You invented the entire thing. Didn’t you?”
Pelorak gave an unabashed shrug. “I needed bait to dangle before the Dawn Council—something that would appeal to their moral high-ground. Trust me, they have no intention of allowing a revised Covenant to go through either. But their consciences wouldn’t allow them to reject us outright without at least pretending to extend an olive branch. ”
Malorg wanted to scream and shout. To rage or attack Pelorak. How dare the Aspect subvert the Covenant like this for his own selfish agenda. It was Infernals like him that gave them their vile reputation. But memories of that miasmic cloud Pelorak had used on him once before stayed his hand.
“This is not the way, Pelorak. The Celestials are not our enemies. You have forgotten your duty.” Thoughts of Sarilian gnawed at his gut, but he soldiered on. “If this is what we have become, then perhaps we deserve to be wiped out.”
There at last came Pelorak’s vicious anger.
Malorg hadn’t even realized he’d been thrown until his back slammed against the far wall.
Shadowy tendrils wove around him, binding him in place and squeezing his chest until he scrambled for breath, wheezing and hacking.
An instant later, the tendrils vanished, dropping him to his hands and knees before Pelorak.
“It is not I who has forsaken their duty,” Pelorak sneered.
“Or have you already forgotten your intent to kill yourself? The hours upon hours you spent staring into your precious rift as if oblivion held the key to your salvation? You may be ready to take the coward’s way out, but I intend to fight until my last gasping breath. ”
A lance of duskflame burst from Pelorak’s palm, impaling the map of the Immortal Realm.
The section depicting the Dawnlands withered until nothing but empty space remained.
“Only the Infernals can drive back the Void and usher the Covenant to an end. Because unlike the Celestials with their lofty, useless ideals, we possess both the strength and the will to do whatever it takes to win. So, yes—if it means ensuring our victory, I would betray and sacrifice every last Celestial. Not all of us possess the same fondness for them you do.”
Malorg forced his head up, glaring at Pelorak. “And if I refuse to continue the Accords? If I warn the Celestials about what you intend?”
To Malorg’s surprise, Pelorak gave a genuinely amused laugh.
Slipping back into the shadows, he emerged sitting in the chair behind his desk, the tension bleeding out of him.
“Even you wouldn’t dare. You might not care about your own fate, but think of the ramifications to our people if the Celestials learned the truth? ”
Pelorak’s grin gained a sinister edge, a wicked gleam in his eye.
“Not to mention how it might affect your poor counterpart. I know how close you and the Dawn Emissary have grown. What was his name again? Jafav?” Malorg’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of Sarilian’s old alias.
Pelorak clucked his tongue. “No, that wasn’t it.
Ah, yes!” He snapped his fingers. “Sarilian. Why, it would be such a shame if anything were to happen to him as a consequence of your hasty choices.”
Pelorak met Malorg’s gaze, his eyes dancing. In that moment, Malorg loathed his old friend more than he’d ever hated anyone or anything, even the Void itself.
“Then, I suppose it’s a good thing I intend to continue the Accords,” Malorg said stiffly. He stared at his feet, every muscle in his body taut with rage. “To avoid such an unfortunate outcome.”
“Of course, you will.” Pelorak’s voice oozed false cheer. “I knew you’d do the right thing, old friend. Now, I really must get back to business. Until we meet again.”
Malorg stumbled, almost losing his footing, at the Aspect’s parting words.
It took a colossal effort not to turn and give Pelorak the satisfaction of seeing the shame and anguish writ across his face.
The instant he was beyond Pelorak’s sight, he sagged against the nearest wall, gulping down deep breaths as he tried to still his pounding heart.
Pelorak knew. He knew everything. And if Malorg didn’t continue to play along, it wouldn’t only be him that suffered the Aspect of Ambition’s wrath.
Either he confessed the truth to Sarilian, destroying any hope of peace and placing Sarilian at risk of retribution…
or he kept up this charade and helped turn Sarilian into an unwitting pawn against his own people.
Despair rippled through Malorg as he bowed his head. Either way, he had lost.