Does she not know of the Illusionist Clerics, and their mission to erase our memories, our very identities? That Illusionist Cleric in Azmaria had recognized him, somehow. In his memory, he'd never crossed paths with the man. How many of my secrets have been lost because of the accursed priests?

  "I-I…" What could he say?

  The queen leaned forward, eyes narrow. "How far back do you remember? What is your earliest memory?"

  The Hunter scratched the stubble sprouting from his chin. "My earliest memories only date back a few years, perhaps no more than forty or fifty. The first thing I can recall is traveling in the south of Einan, arriving at the city of Voramis."

  Queen Asalah's eyes widened. "I have heard of this Voramis, far in the south. Did the Sage not send a number of our brethren to take command of the city?"

  The lifeless, twisted faces of the First and Third flashed through his head, and the Hunter stifled a triumphant grin. No longer.

  Outwardly, he feigned surprise. "I had no idea. The Sage tells me only what I need to know. Though I go where he sends me, still I must search for answers of my forgotten past wherever I can find them."

  Queen Asalah smiled. "Then ask your questions of me. You deserve the truth."

  Perfect! If she believed she could win him over by giving him answers, she would tell him what he wanted to know.

  The Hunter's smile matched her own. "Tell me of Enarium, and of Khar'nath."

  Her breath caught in her throat. She leaned back, her eyes dropping to her lap. "Millennia have passed since I last heard that word spoken." Pain filled her expression and furrowed her brow. Her fingers toyed with the hem of her dress.

  The Hunter's mind raced. What could cause the creature such misery?

  A memory slammed into him with the force of a falling stone.

  Hands bound behind his back, his mouth tied with a gag. He knelt on hard, jagged stones, storm clouds raging over his head. Earth-shattering voices spoke words his mind could not comprehend.

  She knelt beside him, leaning on him for support. Her eyes stared deep into his, fear written plain on Her beautiful face.

  Once again, he was in Enarium.

  An invisible force lifted him from the ground. Of their own accord, his feet moved toward the billowing blaze. An enormous pillar of flame turned night to day, burning everything around him.

  He turned to find Her beside him. Blood stained Her blond hair. She…

  He returned to reality with a jolt. The memory of Her sent a stab of longing through him. He'd come north to find Her, and somehow gotten off track.

  His inner demon snarled. “It's that boy's fault! He has led you astray.”

  The Hunter pushed back the voice. No. Because of him, I have found answers. He'd been forced to come to Aghzaret, but here he'd found Queen Asalah. Because of the boy, I know more about who I am.

  He remembered what had happened at Khar'nath that night, so many millennia ago. He'd been there the night the gods cast the demons and countless Bucelarii, their offspring, into the flaming portal. She'd stood beside him.

  "You lost a child, didn't you?"

  Queen Asalah swallowed and nodded. "A daughter."

  A lump formed in the Hunter's throat. Once again, he saw the face of Farida, the little girl he'd lost in Voramis, held her broken and bleeding in his arms. She stared into his eyes, terrified, as life fled from her tiny body.

  He'd never thought of her as his child, but the pain was no less real. He swallowed the lump and emptied his goblet. He found it odd, this shared moment of grief over the loss of a loved one. He'd seen the same expression in the eyes of the demon in Voramis. It was something eminently human, not what he expected of a demon. Demons were meant to be soulless, vicious monsters, not beings who suffered as he did.

  He nodded and raised his glass. To you, Fari.

  The queen gave him a sad smile. "Gone, but never forgotten."

  The Hunter realized what he was doing. No! Do not allow yourself to be fooled by her pretense of suffering. Remember what she is. He swallowed his emotions. "Truth be told, I only remember bits and pieces of the events that took place in Khar'nath."

  Queen Asalah rumpled her dress, not meeting his eyes. "What do you recall?"

  Images flashed before his eyes. He'd seen them in the Temple of the Beggar God in Malandria, and he could not shake them.

  "I remember being bound and kneeling before a pillar of fire, others of my kin around me."

  The ground bucked beneath him once more. He shied away from the scorching heat, tasted the fear and panic of those around him. She stood beside him, Her presence somehow reassuring.

  "The voices of the gods echoed in the air, shaking the earth to its core."

  His heart hammered and his breath burned in his lungs. Wood creaked beneath his fingers, and he looked down to see his hands clutching the armrest of his sofa. He shut his eyes to calm the ache in his head.

  "Be at ease, Bucelarii." The queen spoke in a gentle voice. "That is a night none of us wish to remember."

  The Hunter took slow, deep breaths to slow the wild beat of his heart. "After that, I can recall nothing else before my arrival in Voramis nearly five decades ago."

  The queen's eyes widened. "Thousands of years of memories, gone from your mind? What horror is this?"

  If only you knew. He shuddered. He couldn't forget being bound and at the Illusionist Cleric's mercy. To see all his memories flashing before his eyes, knowing he would lose them forever, was a torment beyond belief.

  He steeled his expression. "You wish me to join you. My price is answers of my past. Tell me what I wish to know, and I will abandon the Sage to rule at your side."

  Queen Asalah smiled, triumph in her eyes. "Ask, and I will answer. Though I tell you this, you and I only knew each other for a score of years. You spoke little of your past. Indeed, you seemed to recall very little at the time."

  The Hunter leaned back in his chair. "I would hear of Enarium, my queen. I have heard the name spoken in connection to Khar'nath. Something tells me I must know more."

  The queen mused over his words. "The name means 'Pristine' in the tongue of the Serenii. Millennia have passed since I strode the halls of Enarium, yet I remember it as if it were only yesterday."

  She fixed him with a rapt gaze. "Oh, Bucelarii, if only you could have seen the city! Its majestic halls, towering spires that disappeared beyond the clouds—it truly was the pinnacle of beauty on this world. And oh! Such power!"

  Her eyes took on a faraway look, and she rose from the divan to pace the room, as if unable to contain her excitement.

  "When the Serenii, first children of Einan, summoned us to this world to serve the Great Destroyer, they wielded artifacts of immense power. These relics were stored in their cities across the face of Einan. Among these, Enarium was the greatest. Surrounded on all sides by the Mountains of Pellean, it was a sight to behold. Kharna himself could not have overcome the stronghold, so mighty its fortifications. The power that thrummed through it could shatter mountains with a single word."

  "Yet, though the ancient Serenii wielded great magicks, their power was not enough to overcome the might of the gods. They chafed beneath the yoke of the Thirteen. The gods ruled over Einan with a fist of iron, when all the Serenii wanted was to be left alone."

  "The Serenii were the caretakers of Einan in the days when it was still young, but when the gods placed humankind on Einan, the Serenii grew angry. The young, warlike race of humans refused to leave them alone. Thus, the Serenii decided to challenge the gods for rule. They began construction on Enarium, a city that would serve as the focal point for all of their magick. The city was a weapon meant to kill the gods!"

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  The Hunter flinched from the intensity in the queen's voice and the insanity in her eyes. "But I thought Kharna recruited the Serenii into his war on the gods."

  "Indeed. After they refused to serve the Twelve, they saw in Kharna a chance to be rid of both humankind and the Thirteen once and for all. After all, if the Great Destroyer killed the gods, he would face them alone. With Enarium to focus their magicks, they believed they could kill our great master. The Serenii summoned us, the Abiarazi, from our realms of fire, of ice, of whipping winds and twisted nightmares, brought here to cleanse this world of humanity."

  Queen Asalah bared her teeth. "But Kharna was no fool! He discovered the plans of the Serenii, and used them to his own ends. They created for him weapons that fed upon the souls of mankind." She stabbed a finger at the Hunter. "That blade you carry—Thanal Eth' Athaur—is one among thousands forged by the hands of the Serenii, all for the purpose of sustaining the Great Destroyer. Compared to them, the power of your blade is as a drop of rain in an endless ocean!"

  Soulhunger throbbed in his mind, as if agreeing with the queen's words.

  The Hunter narrowed his eyes. "Tell me this, if the weapons were so powerful, why did the Abiarazi fall?"

  "The accursed gods intervened!" The queen's eyes grew cold, hard. "They battled the Great Destroyer and rained down fire and fury upon our armies. Not even our mighty hordes could stand against such power."

  "And when Kharna was finally killed, you were driven from this world."

  "Those of us without the sense to hide among mankind. Only a few of us had skill enough to trick the gods. The rest were cast into Khar'nath, along with our children."

  "Most of your children," the Hunter corrected. "The Beggar God interceded on our behalf."

  "Yes, but for every Bucelarii saved, a hundred more burned in the fires of Khar'nath. Their human blood made them weak, too weak to survive the fires. Worse still, countless Abiarazi also met their ends in those flames."

  The Hunter raised an eyebrow. "How is that possible? I'd thought your kind impervious to…"

  "Not all of us hail from the realm you humans call the 'fiery hell'," Queen Asalah growled. "Some of us were summoned from other worlds."

  The Hunter pondered the revelation. Einari legends held that there were many hells, and the queen's words confirmed it.

  "W-Which world is yours?"

  Queen Asalah gave him a sad smile. "I come from a frozen, barren wasteland of ice and rock. Yet, for all its severity, it was home."

  "So only the Abiarazi from the realm of fire survived Khar'nath?"

  The queen nodded. "Hundreds of thousands of Abiarazi were called to this world, leaving only a fraction on my world—perhaps a few thousand, no more."

  The Hunter opened his mouth, then snapped it shut, at a loss for words.

  "But decimated though our ranks may be, we will triumph in the end!" Fire blazed in the queen's eyes. Her features rippled in a gruesome wave of flesh and bone, and her eyes shifted color to the depthless void he knew so well. "One Abiarazi is worth a thousand human warriors. With the Bucelarii beside us, we will take our rightful place on Einan."

  "How? The Beggar Priests have hunted us for milennia. I am the last of the Bucelarii."

  The queen shook her head. "Alas, I fear you are right. We have watched, helpless, as the Beggar Priests waged war on our children."

  The Hunter's temper flared white hot. "And you call yourselves our forefathers, yet you left us all to be slaughtered! You could have intervened, but you did nothing." He whirled on her, eyes blazing. "Why?"

  Queen Asalah almost looked remorseful. "We could not reveal ourselves until the time was right!"

  He bared his teeth. "When was that? Once we were all dead?"

  She flinched. "Our plans were…"

  "Damn you and your plans!" The Hunter leapt to his feet and paced the room. He swallowed hard. "Tell me this, Abiarazi. If, as you say, the Bucelarii were so numerous, why not simply have more?"

  "We could not!" The queen's voice took on a pleading tone. "When we gave up our powers to hide from the gods, we were altered. We could no longer beget children, no matter how we tried."

  Heat raced in the Hunter's veins. Curse them all!

  His anger startled him. He knew it was irrational. He had no memory of parents, of any life before arriving in Voramis. He had no recollection of being abandoned by the Abiarazi, no idea they'd even existed until a few short months ago.

  But the feeling remained, a deep-rooted fury that refused to leave him. He'd been an outsider his entire life. He'd never belonged among the humans, no matter how he'd tried. Now he discovered that the others like him, his kin, had died because of the inaction of those that called themselves his forefathers. His hands trembled with rage at the injustice.

  Queen Asalah rushed toward him and gripped his shoulder. "But all that will soon change! Once we have freed the Great Destroyer, he will open the gates to the realm of fire. The Abiarazi, though fewer in number than before, will return to this world, our true power restored by Kharna himself. We will spread across the face of Einan, and none will stand before us. The Bucelarii will live once more, to serve as our army, we as your commanders."

  The Hunter forced his fists to unclench. "In order to achieve that, we must free the Great Destroyer first."

  The queen nodded. "Yes, and all that begins here. Now."

  He allowed himself to be led to his chair. His heart still raced, but his short-lived burst of anger had faded.

  The queen folded herself into her divan with slow, deliberate movements. "Once we rule Al Hani, you, together with Thanal Eth' Athaur, will gather enough power to return our master to this world."

  The Hunter took a deep breath. "But if Enarium was built to kill the gods, surely its power would suffice to free the Great Destroyer from his imprisonment. Why not return to claim its power for your own?"

  Queen Asalah shook her head. "Alas, it is not to be."

  "Why not? You've been there before, so you know where to find it. What could stop you from returning?"

  "The gods themselves." The queen's shoulders slumped.

  "What? What does that mean?"

  The queen passed a hand over her face. "When the Twelve imprisoned our master, they discovered the Serenii's true purpose in building Enarium. They placed a curse upon the city and the surrounding lands, turning the weapon of the Serenii against the Abiarazi."

  "What is the curse?"

  Queen Asalah scratched at the fabric of her divan. "None know. Many of our kind have ventured into the mountains in search of the city, but none have returned. It is said the curse warps and twists Abiarazi. We become as mindless beasts. Monsters."

  You are already monsters, he wanted to say, but swallowed his retort.

  "Thus they are named the 'Empty Mountains', Bucelarii. To us, they hold nothing but death."

  "So, without the power of Enarium, you are forced to find…alternative ways to return the Great Destroyer to this world."

  The queen nodded. "A few of our number wielded weapons like Thanal Eth' Athaur. But many of the conduits were lost in the culling, or captured by the Beggar Priests." Queen Asalah's face contorted into a mask of rage and she spat curses in Einari, the language of Al Hani, and a half dozen other tongues he didn't recognize.

  The Hunter had encountered one such weapon in Voramis. He'd felt its terrible power, screamed as it sought to steal his soul. Now it lay atop the Palace of Justice, ever out of reach of those who sought to use it. But how many more are there?

  "Not all are gone. One remains." He gripped Soulhunger's hilt.

  "Yes!" The queen's excitement returned. "You, and that blessed conduit you carry. I know many of my fellow Abiarazi would try to take it from you and use it for their own ends, but not I."

  The Hunter raised an eyebrow. "Why not? Surely you desire its power for your own."

  "To say otherwise would be a falsehood. Who would not crave it? But it is not mine to take. It is yours, your heritage, the only thing that binds you to us. The dagger is connected to your mind and soul. It is as much a part of you as your eyes, your arms, your heart. Taking it from you would kill you in the end."

  Acid burned in the Hunter's throat. He'd nearly cast Soulhunger away many times, had always told himself he could be rid of the accursed blade when it no longer served his purpose, but something had stopped his hand. Now, to hear that Soulhunger was an integral part of him, that losing it would kill him, filled him with despair. Would he never be rid of the voices in his head? Smug satisfaction radiated from his inner demon.

  If the Enarium truly dates back to the days of the Serenii, it has to hold the secrets of ages. Perhaps the city held the answers he sought. Not only about his forgotten past, but about the Bucelarii, the accursed weapons, the Abiarazi, and how he could be free of the burdens of his birthright and the voices in his head.

  "You said that the curse of the Empty Mountains would kill an Abiarazi. But what about a Bucelarii?"

  Queen Asalah cocked her head. "I hadn't considered that. Your human heritage may protect you. At the very least, it might weaken the effects of the curse."

  A seed of hope took root. Perhaps there is a way to reach Enarium and find the answers. But how could I get her to tell me?

  A knock sounded at the door, and Captain Al-Zahar strode into the room. He bent and murmured into the queen's ear. A brief exchange passed between them, and the queen nodded.

  "You must excuse me. There are a few matters that require my attention."

  The Hunter stood. "Of course."

  "I would ask you to remain here, hidden from sight. You will not be disturbed by anyone." Queen Asalah raised a hand to forestall his question. "The fewer people that see you the better. If an armed stranger were found roaming the palace, it would raise too many questions. It could alert my husband to our plans."

  The Hunter inclined his head. "So be it. I will remain here."

  "I will return soon. I have instructed the good captain to bring you anything you desire."

  "Thank you, my queen, but I need nothing."

  "Very well." She paused at the door. "Prepare yourself, Hunter. The hour of triumph draws near. When I return, your work commences."

  Only once the door clicked shut behind the queen did the Hunter let out a long, slow breath. He threw himself on the plush sofa, but leapt to his feet a moment later. His body refused to be still. A maelstrom seethed in his mind, and his hands flexed and relaxed of their own will as he paced the room, studying the tapestries on the wall with unseeing eyes. The queen had shared a wealth of information, almost more than he could process.

 

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