Chapter LXXXIX : Postern

  Earlnight of Tertius, Second Day of Duskmoon

  Bodies … piled everywhere. So many dead! Their blood … on my hands … my face! My body … can’t stop! The brutality … the murder! Stop laughing! Gaia, please help … help me stop. Help me … STOP!

  “Quon, is everything alright?”

  The Kenju Master woke from his waking nightmare. His mind often wandered since it was severed from the Ahriman. Bram’s voice brought it back, barely. He still pictured the men and women he was forced to kill with his bare hands. His knives, grafted directly to his knuckle bones, plunged through more bodies than he could count. The violence was relentless and still vivid in his mind.

  Each time, he felt anger and revulsion. But also sheer enjoyment. He and Abaddon were linked, emotions flowing between them. But, was it just a demon that relished when his fists battered that poor woman to death, until her face was a bloody, matted mess? Or, did he find pleasure, too?

  Of course, he didn’t. He was a good man. A righteous man. Raised by an honorable father. He wouldn’t hurt anyone, except to defend himself or his kinsmen. He held his life to the highest standards. But … how could he be certain? How could he know for sure which feelings were his? The ones rolling around his mind … they felt like his. But they were blended. Mixed. Jumbled. Betwixt. He couldn’t be sure of anything.

  After leaving the judiciary center, he and Bram entered Angkor’s underground waterways, and the Knight told him about his journey. He assured Quon that his wife and emperor were unharmed by the battle, which was news that should have brought him great joy. But, he couldn’t celebrate. Not yet. He couldn’t face his wife, his beautiful Katharina, until he was sure he wouldn’t hurt her, too.

  “It’s fine, Bram. I’m just … still a little shaken.”

  Angkor’s waterways were desolate, smelling more of mold than wastewater. Few were left alive inside the city to use them. Bram led the way. He had no map, but he believed he knew the city well enough to navigate to the palace, where he expected to find King Richard.

  Meanwhile, Matthias and Mica followed just a few paces behind, deep in their own conversation. Thankfully, the priestess recovered from her near-death experience. Although, perhaps post-death was more accurate. Bram had brought her back with magic, supposedly inherited by the Great Sage who was his father as well as the mastermind of Angkor’s demise—and probably everything else wrong with the world. The Gnostic Knight he once knew had undergone a dramatic transformation, and it wasn’t clear what he was, now. A Knight? A Scholar? Something in between?

  Whatever he was, he seemed to genuinely want to provide comfort. “I can’t imagine what you went through, Quon. I wouldn’t want you to relive those terrible moments, but … if could you tell me how you ended up in Angkor, I think it might help.”

  After hearing Bram’s story, it seemed natural for Quon to tell his own. Even so, it didn’t make it any less agonizing. He needed more time to process and understand if he was still the man he used to be. After experiencing so many brutal, firsthand murders, he wondered if a man could possibly be the same. And if those experiences changed him into something else, he needed to know what it meant. Whether it left him desensitized … or made him into some kind of monster.

  He still felt the knives as they rested against his bones. Releasing them gave him a sense of euphoria. He wondered if there would come a time when he craved blood so bad, he’d drive them into someone. Anyone. He wondered if others could truly be safe around him.

  He noticed Bram waiting patiently for his answer and figured telling his story might actually help. There was no need to keep it a secret, and remaining silent left him alone with his waking nightmares. So he swallowed past a lump in his throat and began.

  “That morn, at Loulan Palace … I remember seeing a Gnostic Knight enter the battlefield. I prepared to confront him, but the next thing I knew, I woke in a small cell with five of my Kenju brethren. Our captors left us there for two full days without food or water. I expected us to die, but they eventually returned with an ultimatum. Either we fought each other, and the victor would go free, or we would be executed.”

  Quon felt an ache in his chest. It was grief, but he was happy to feel it. The Kenju were very dear to him. They were both friends and family, and he would never forgive himself if he felt any different.

  “They must have known we’d never agree to fight. The Kenju do not fear death, especially when our honor is at stake. But, they had something worse in store. Later, one at a time, they removed us from our cell, blindfolded us, and led us to an unknown location.”

  Quon felt a sense of dread as he remembered. He took slow, intentional breaths but still struggled.

  “That’s when I saw it. More monstrous than any spawn. Filled with more hatred and malice than you can imagine. The air was dry … and heavy. The only word I can think to use … is evil.”

  He took a moment to collect himself.

  “I knew what I saw right away. It was an Ahriman, and it watched me with red, glowing eyes. It knew I was afraid. It looked … like some kind of serpent. But it changed. Its body was wet, but not from moisture. It was covered with a-a-a sticky mucus that allowed its flesh to slide past as it twisted into various shapes. But its face … that always stayed the same. It was vaguely human, but grotesquely out of proportion. Its mouth … stretched ear to ear with teeth. So many teeth. Thousands of teeth ….”

  “Quon, I can tell this is bothering you. Why don’t we skip the part about the Ahriman. Tell me what happened next?”

  The Kenju Master took his time ridding it from his mind, but it took effort. He realized he was hyperventilating.

  “It, uh … breathed on me. Blue smoke filled the room, and I … I-I-I can’t describe it, but I felt calm. Almost … accepting. At first, I was glad, just not to be terrified. Until I realized I was no longer in control of my body.”

  Bram’s expression fell. “What about the other Kenju?”

  Quon knew he had to face that part, but it wasn’t easy. “Much of it’s a blur, but I remember being led to a room where they operated on me, surgically. They took my tigerpaw … the weapon I customized to fit around my arm. You might remember it: a series of blades that I could unsheathe, if I twisted just right. These ‘surgeons’ were wizards, under the demon’s control. They took my hand, peeled away the skin, and grafted the tigerpaw’s blades straight onto the bone. It was painful, and I felt every bit of it, but I couldn’t scream. When they finished, they pulled the flesh back around my hand and cast their enchantments. The weapon is still there. It will always be there. I’m worried … worried that …. No. Never mind.”

  Bram’s eyes held sympathy, but it was hardly worth any comfort. “It’s alright, my friend. I promise, when we get out of here, you can come with me to Minoa. Their Gurudeva might be able to … do something for you. But, I, uh … also wanted to ask about the other Kenju. If they’re still under Abaddon’s control, perhaps I could save them—”

  “No.” Quon shook his head. “They’re dead.”

  Bram’s face scrunched with pity. “I’m so sorry ….”

  “You don’t understand. I killed them.”

  He waited for the silence to settle before explaining.

  “Abaddon forced us into battle. Now, with our minds and his combined, he wanted to see who was strongest. They grafted weapons onto all of us. Swords instead of hands, pikes instead of arms … like freakish experiments. We were given only enough control to defend ourselves instinctively and access our lifetimes of skills and training. But, it wasn’t the same as free will. We would never have fought, otherwise. No … the blue smoke compelled us to battle until death. I alone emerged victorious. Since then, Abaddon used me as his butcher. My task was to cut down anyone still alive in the city. He wants it purged, so that only those under his control are alive to serve him. Even then, only the strongest are allowed to remain.”

  Quon left it at that, and Bram didn’t ask for more. The Kenju Master wondered if it had been worth telling his very painful story. Although, the pain was proof that he hadn’t descended into sociopathy. Therapeutically, it only scratched the surface. He didn’t just lose friends or watch them die. He was forced to do the killing. And each life he took was a millstone he’d carry his whole life. But … could he bear their weight?

  He and Bram walked the next few minutes in silence, giving him time to consider what it would take to achieve peace. He still pondered the answer, when the room shook with a monstrous screech. It echoed off the stone corridors. In the distance, he heard men screaming. People were in danger.

  He didn’t hesitate. He needed to know if he still had a heart to help someone.

  Matthias muttered behind him. “Is he running toward the sound?”

  “Come on!” Bram urged his companions to follow suit, but Quon was already well ahead.

  His swift legs carried him through the stone tunnels, splashing through puddles of muck. He followed what sounded like a skirmish between man and beast. Something lurked in the sewers, and it didn’t matter whether the men were friends or foes. Their lives were in danger. He would save them either way, as long as it proved he cared. That he still had honor.

  He turned a corner and found the beast, a spawn with three heads in the form of snakes and a body in the shape of a lion. It pounced on one of three Angkorian soldiers, pinning him to the ground. Two of the snake heads chomped down on the man’s arms and pulled, ripping them from their sockets. The third opened its maw and took a bite of the man’s face, leaving nothing but a hollow cavity behind.

  Four corpses lay along the basin, while two remaining soldiers fought back with short swords. They were defenseless, dressed only in military uniform. Yet their eyes had no sign of the blue film. Quon was pleased. It didn’t make them allies, but they weren’t necessarily a threat, either.

  One of them drove his sword into the beast’s flank, joining several other wounds already there. But damaging the body seemed to have little effect. Quon released his own blades, deciding he would try a different target.

  The beast swung its heads like blunt instruments, striking anyone who got close. One soldier went flying backward with a direct hit. The other dodged, but not before a head bit him in the abdomen. He fell to the ground, squirming until he lay still. Quon suspected the beast used venom, since the damage from the bite itself would not have been enough to kill a man.

  He dashed forward, determined to even the odds. With lightning fast maneuvers, he swerved and flipped over a gauntlet of swinging heads. He reached out and slid his blades through one of their necks. Success. He punctured an artery, leaving the head to bleed out. It went limp, but the beast appeared to thrive just as well with two.

  It reared, sending the Kenju Master backward. He corrected in midair, landing on his feet.

  “Quon, move aside! Out of the water!”

  He heard Bram’s warning and heeded it. He leapt onto a mound of mud. From the side, a lightning bolt hit the water beneath the beast, shocking it enough to leave it stunned.

  “I’m going for it!”

  Quon shouted the warning so Matthias or Mica would hold off their spells. He went straight for another head, feeling the satisfaction of his blades sliding through scaly flesh. Bram joined on the opposite side, driving his silver sword into the third.

  With all three heads wounded, the beast slumped forward and stopped moving. With certain species, it was difficult to tell whether spawn were truly dead, so Quon pierced the dangling heads again, specifically through their brain.

  An exasperated Matthias reproached him. “What’s the matta with ya, Lad? We had no business killin’ that thing.”

  Quon wished he had the mental clarity to explain himself, but he doubted he could say it in a way that Matthias would understand. He needed to save someone. Anyone.

  Mica approached. “Are you wounded?”

  Quon appreciated her concern, but there was little he could say to the girl he killed hours earlier. He shook his head.

  “No.”

  He reviewed the scene, angry that he was too late to save anyone. He hadn’t proved anything other than his willingness to take on a senseless risk. He could have put the others in danger. He didn’t know what he was thinking.

  Just then, something splashed in the water behind him. It was the soldier that was thrown back by the beast. He was alive!

  Quon ran over. “Mica, I might need your healing, after all.”

  The soldier rolled onto his haunches and spit out a wad of muck. “Ptew!” His face twisted with revulsion. “I’m bruised pretty good, but I think I’ll be okay.”

  Bram and Matthias gathered close. He was a young man, native Angkorian, with short brown hair and brown eyes. He regarded the four companions with a look of growing concern on his face.

  Quon realized how crazy they must look, still covered with blood and filth from earlier. Even under the grime, there was a knight in unfamiliar armor, a Kenju wearing Angkorian military uniform, an old scholar in tattered robes, and a Koban girl dressed as a civilian. The ghastly yet diverse group would have looked strange to anyone.

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  Even so, his initial look of shock wore off and he posed his first question with little emotion. “Who are you?”

  Bram spoke on behalf of the group. “We traveled to Angkor to face the demon in control of this city. It’s obvious you aren’t under its control, so I hope we want the same thing.”

  The soldier’s eyes went wide. He looked elated. “You’re here to help? I can’t believe it. Truly?”

  “Now hold on.” Matthias sounded skeptical. “How did you and your friends escape the Ahriman’s spell? What’s your name?”

  The soldier spoke humbly. “It’s Galiver, Sir. Or, Private First Class Givry, if you’d like. Yeah … those were my comrades.” He gestured with his head to the bodies on either side. “I wouldn’t call ‘em friends, though. We just had something in common: a desire to get out o’ this shithole. You know, strangers with the same goal. As for the blue film, it wears off after a while. They usually take us back to that … thing … and the nightmare starts all over again. There used to be seven of us, when we first escaped into the sewers. Now, I’m all that’s left. Does that answer it for you?”

  Bram posed another question. “How’d a hydralisk get down here?”

  Galiver shrugged. “You mean the spawn? How in Gaia’s name should I know? I wish we hadn’t run into it.” He pointed to one of the dead soldiers. “But that idiot charged ahead and ran straight into its den. The rest of us should’a just ran.”

  “It would have hunted you, anyway,” Bram explained. “Hydralisks can smell prey from a hundred spans away.”

  Galiver’s eyes drifted until they landed on empty space. “What do I do? This place is worse than the depths of the Burning Pits! The city’s full o’ demons, and men commit murder for sport. There’s no place to hide. We’re all gonna die, you know.”

  “No. We’re not.” Despite his filth, Bram looked commanding in his armor. “Only one thing is responsible for the curse on this city: King Richard. He meddled with powers he didn’t understand and released a demon unlike anything the world had seen in a thousand years. We’re here to do something about it. All we need is to reach the palace and find him. Then we can finish this and end the nightmare for good.”

  Galiver shook his head. “I can’t tell if you’re heroes … or fools. Then again, you did defeat that spawn.”

  Quon felt the need to move on. “You’re welcome to try to escape the city on your own. Or, join with us. We won’t make you fight, but we’ll survive a lot longer together than apart.”

  Galiver didn’t look happy, but he seemed to accept his limited options. “You said you could finish this if you reach the palace, right? I know how to get there.”

  Bram looked excited. “You do? You’re sure?”

  The soldier nodded. “That’s where I came from. I know the way back.”

  Quon was glad the young man had survived the attack. His instincts were right, after all. “Then let’s go. The beast made enough noise to attract attention. We don’t want to stick around, in case anyone up above decides to investigate.”

  Bram nodded. “Galiver, lead the way. I’ll join you.”

  As the Knight and soldier marched ahead, Quon felt a hand on his shoulder.

  It was Matthias. “Next time ya feel like runnin’ off, have a care for th’ rest of us, will ya?”

  Quon wanted to explain himself, but finding the words wasn’t any easier.

  Instead, he apologized. “It won’t happen again.”

  Matthias grunted, but he looked satisfied. He went ahead to catch up with Bram and Galiver, while Mica hung back. The priestess looked like she had something to say.

  He didn’t want to be near her. Abaddon might have guided his hand, but he still remembered what it felt like to cut through her face. She still bore the scar, which ran from ear to mouth. The guilt was crushing.

  Nevertheless, she seemed intent on speaking to him, and he had no right to refuse. “Quon, mind if I asked you something?”

  He braced himself, knowing he’d have to face what he did, sooner or later. Avoiding the subject wouldn’t make things easier, and with the battles ahead, cooperation and teamwork were essential. As much as the guilt made his gut churn, he had to face his retribution.

  “Go ahead. Ask.”

  Mica looked anxious. “I’m not here to talk about what happened … earlier.”

  Quon felt relief. He let out a pent up breath, and Mica seemed to notice.

  “Don’t get me wrong. I’ve lived in Minoa most of my life, and something about that place helps people empathize with others. It sort of lets you know what they’re feeling. But, even without that, I’d still know you were suffering. I … I don’t want to make things worse. So, let’s just not talk about it right now. I want to ask you something else.”

  He nodded appreciatively. “What did you want to know?”

  “It’s about Galiver.”

  He didn’t expect her to come to him about the new stranger. He was curious. “What about him? Is it related to what you just told me? Did you sense something?”

  Mica nodded. “I can’t be sure, and I’m not saying he’s lying, but … maybe just holding back. I just get the impression that he doesn’t truly want to help us.”

  Quon thought about it. “He probably doesn’t. We’re asking him to take us back to face the demon he barely managed to escape. And if he refuses, he’s on his own and unlikely to survive without us. But, let’s say you’re right. Why tell me? Why not raise your concerns with Bram?”

  Mica’s face reddened. “I … I didn’t want to be wrong, okay? Also, it was either you or Matthias, and I didn’t want to be wrong in front of him, either.”

  Quon understood the need for discretion. “Let me talk to Bram. Just let him know I have something to tell him.”

  Mica nodded and ran ahead. Quon strayed a few paces back to make sure he’d be out of earshot. Mica was good at being subtle. She gave Bram the message, smiled, and proceeded to start a conversation with Galiver. It looked like genuine chitchat.

  He waited for Bram to reach him.

  “Is everything alright, Quon? Mica said you had something to tell me.”

  The Kenju Master nodded. “I hope I didn’t overstep earlier when I asked Galiver to join us. It didn’t feel right sending him out on his own.”

  Bram relaxed. “It’s fine. I would have done the same if you hadn’t. Besides, it’s nice to have someone familiar with the waterways. I know my way around up above, but there are so many tunnels down here, it’s easy to get turned around.”

  “I was going to ask you about that.” Quon chose his words carefully. “Is it possible to know if we’re going in the wrong direction?”

  Bram’s eyes narrowed. “No. Like I said, I hardly know my own way. Why?”

  Quon explained. “Mica told me she felt something odd about Galiver, but she wasn’t sure and didn’t want to raise alarms. Since we’re depending on him to reach our destination, I thought you should know.”

  Bram’s face hardened. “Thanks. I’ll pay attention without raising suspicion.”

  “Good.”

  Quon let the Knight go on ahead, while he watched Galiver from a distance. He wanted to see if could spot anything unusual. The soldier was broody, sure, but anyone else would be in his position. Being under Abaddon’s control left a person with serious trauma. Quon understood this better than anyone.

  Finding nothing suspicious, he relaxed. The whole city was making him nervous and paranoid. All he could do was hope that Bram retrieved the sunstone before Abaddon did more harm. But it seemed like it would take a miracle. In the meantime, his guts churned.

  “Quon ….”

  Bram’s whisper got his attention.

  The Kenju Master kept his voice low. “What is it? Did you notice something?”

  Bram nodded. “Look at the walls, over there. Notice that pattern in the stone?”

  Most of the waterways were nondescriptly gray along the sides. But now, The Kenju Master noted bands of light and dark rock.

  Bram explained. “That’s known as gneiss, which tends to occur naturally close to the Substratum.”

  Quon remembered entering Angkor’s underground military complex a few times. “The Substratum? That’s quite far from the palace, isn’t it? How can you be sure that gneiss doesn’t also extend to other parts of the city?”

  The Knight explained more. “Gneiss is harder than the surrounding bedrock and makes for a good foundation. The Substratum tunnels deep underground, so it was built specifically into hard rock to withstand the stress. Had the gneiss extended uniformly beneath the palace, the Substratum would have been built there.”

  Quon understood. “Then what you’re telling me is that we can’t be headed toward the palace. Galiver is taking us in the wrong direction. What do you want to do about it?”

  Bram paused. “Even without the blue film, he could be acting in his own interests. Worst case, he might be working for the enemy. We need to question him before we walk into a trap.”

  Quon nodded. “Let’s catch up to him. I’ll back you up.”

  They approached the young soldier while he conversed with Mica about her time in Minoa.

  Bram spoke first. “Galiver, hold up. I’d like to have a word, if you don’t mind.”

  The soldier paused and looked over his shoulder. “What is it? We’re almost at the palace. It’s just up ahead.”

  Bram walked in front and halted the young man’s advance. He held his hands out peacefully. “Stop. I already know this passage leads to the Substratum, not the palace. Be honest with us, Galiver. Why are you taking us there?”

  The young man smiled innocently and pointed at Bram. A bolt of energy flew from his fingertip and struck the Knight, sending him flying. Before Quon could react, he grabbed Mica by the hair and pulled her close. His same index finger transformed into the blade of a knife, which he jabbed at her throat.

  Quon wasn’t about to let Mica take a blade to the neck a second time. He twisted his wrist to expose his own blades, but held back his attack to assess the situation. Clearly, Galiver was a wizard, which meant he had plenty of surprises in store.

  He watched his enemy carefully. “Let her go.”

  Matthias approached from the other side, spells ready. “You don’t want to mess with me, Lad. Release the priestess, or you’ll be in a world o’ hurt.”

  By now, Bram had recovered. He drew his sword and stood ready. The three companions closed in on their target, though Galiver didn’t seem concerned.

  He pulled Mica’s hair, further exposing her neck. He pressed his blade until a trickle of blood oozed. “Careful, Abraham … you wouldn’t want to see this poor girl die twice, would you?”

  Bram sneered. “How did you—? Oh, I get it now? Galiver Givry, eh? It’s an anagram for ….”

  The man’s disguise melted, revealing another figure underneath.

  Bram was livid. “Virgil Garvey. You son of a bitch.”

  Quon recognized the name, but it was his first time meeting the man in person.

  The rogue wizard chuckled. “I knew you’d turn up, eventually. Every time I hear of your death, it seems to be exaggerated.”

  Bram’s grip on his sword tightened. He and Matthias closed in slowly. Quon joined.

  Virgil’s eyes contained a spark of amusement. “I’m here to bargain. Hear me out, or the girl gets it!”

  “Don’t listen to him,” Mica pleaded. “I don’t care what happens to me.”

  Virgil pulled her hair tight. “Shut up.”

  His gaze went straight to Bram. “I just want you, Abraham. Give up and follow me, and I won’t harm your friends. I’ll even grant them safe passage out of the city. How about it? You should know by now you can’t beat me. You won’t want the girl to die again for no reason. Would you?”

  Quon took a small step forward, clearly past Virgil’s line in the sand. He faced the Kenju Master brazenly.

  “Step back.” He changed his knife back into a fingertip and fired a bolt of energy at Quon’s boots. “Sheathe your weapons and stand down. You, too, old man!”

  He winked, and Matthias started clawing at his mouth, where a solid wall of flesh suddenly formed, blocking his ability to speak.

  “Virgil, stop.” Bram threw down his sword and held up his hands.

  Quon caught his breath. The Knight tipped his hand too soon. “No, Bram. Don’t!”

  “It’s alright, Master Nan. This will protect Mica and all of you.”

  Virgil loosened his grip, but he looked skeptical. “You’ll need to follow me through those tunnels. Alone. Wait … what are you doing?”

  Quon felt a tingling in the air, like the moment before a thunder strike. Everything began to move slowly, as if time itself had slowed. Although, his perception of time didn’t change. Just his ability to move through it. It was like being stuck in honey, and it affected everyone except for Bram. The Knight stepped forward and casually grabbed Virgil’s fingers before he could jam them into Mica’s throat. He then twisted Virgil’s arm and forced him to the ground.

  It happened so fast, Quon hardly realized time returned to its normal rate. He quickly ran to help Mica to her feet.

  Matthias’ eyes flared. Virgil’s curse on his mouth was gone, but he was still at a loss for words. “What d’ya do, Bram? Was that … anima?”

  The Knight had Virgil pinned, face down, in the mud while holding both arms tightly behind his back. “Quickly, Matthias. Put a field on him!”

  “Aye, o’ course.” The old scholar waved his arms. “Mica, you should, too. We can’t afford t’ let this one escape.”

  The priestess wiped away the droplets of blood from her neck. “It’s done.”

  Bram loosened his grip and allowed Virgil to turn his head. Quon was shocked to see a very different face from what was there moments earlier. He was no longer a middle aged, blond haired man. Instead, his skin was ashen and weathered, his eyes sunken, and his skin stretched and gaunt.

  Bram looked just as surprised. “What is this?”

  Virgil said nothing, but Matthias offered an idea. “Based on what ya told me, Bram, Mister Garvey here also has a kind of magic undetectable by scholars. Since Ah’m guessin’ he’s not the offspring of a Great Sage, Ah presume he wields the power of nihil. The Void.”

  Virgil chuckled. “Congratulations on figuring it out. It takes a toll on a person’s lifeforce. I’ve searched far and wide for a way to restore my health, but nihil only takes. It never gives back. Kind of like the world. Don’t you think?”

  “Shut up.” Bram looked like a man out of patience. “This whole mess is because of you, so you’re going to help us clean it up. For starters, I want answers. Why were you leading us to the Substratum?”

  “Or what? Do you really think it matters what you do to me?”

  Bram used his knee to pin Virgil even harder into the ground. “I have no problem killing and removing you as a threat. But if you cooperate, we won’t need to get messy. Otherwise, I’ve waited a long time to settle this score.”

  Virgil’s head rotated, until his face wrapped all the way around to the back of his body. His sunken eyes burrowed into the Knight, sending shivers down Quon’s spine. Veins invaded the whites of his eyes, turning them into pools of red. His skin turned white and peeled, coming off in flakes until only the bone remained. His fleshless jaw spoke in a voice that was no longer human.

  “Careful, Abraham, or you’ll stain that silver Grigori armor back to black, like your brother’s! Better luck next time. I promise not to underestimate you again.”

  As soon as the words left his skeletal remains, the bones disintegrated. Quon leapt back in repugnance, as did Bram and others. The flakes of dust gathered into a cloud and disappeared down the endless waterways.

  Bram cursed, striking the ground with his gauntleted fist. “Damn it!”

  Mica looked confused. “What just happened? Was that the power of nihil … or something else?”

  Quon wondered the same thing. “Abaddon’s doing, perhaps?”

  Matthias shook his head. “Ah don’t know. Ah’ve never seen anythin’ like it.”

  Bram stood up and wiped away the mud. “Virgil has at least two other sunstones, so it could be from a different Ahrimen. Maybe it’s because of the colorless manna in my blood, but I felt something. And I didn’t like it. It had to be the power of nihil, but … it’s strange.”

  Bram trailed off, but Quon encouraged him to say more. “Tell us, Bram. What did you feel?”

  The Knight paused. “Rosa told me once that Virgil would reach inside his cloak to access something. She believed it was a totem, from his cloak’s inner pocket. She thought it was the source of his power. I also witnessed him reaching inside, the day he forced me to take the sunstone, at Minoa. But you all saw what happened. I had him pinned. There’s no way he could have reached for such an item.”

  Matthias started pacing. “Arrgh, it does us no good t’ speculate. We’re still ignorant o’ the powers at play, and there’s no point going after Virgil. We need to find the sunstone. So, where to?”

  Quon offered his thoughts. “Virgil tried to lead us astray. I say we backtrack and try to find the route to the palace.”

  Bram shook his head. “I don’t think so. Virgil tends to operate one step ahead. We can’t trust our first instinct. We’d be better off doing the opposite.”

  Matthias scoffed. “Ya can’t mean continuin’ on ahead? He was clearly leadin’ us into a trap. We can’t just walk right into it.”

  “He might have trapped both locations,” Bram reasoned. “In fact, I’m almost certain he did. The question is, which path takes us to Richard?”

  Quon tried to understand Bram’s logic. “You think Virgil led us into the Substratum, even though it takes us closer to the sunstone?”

  Mica tilted her head. “Makes no sense. We would have never gone in this direction, if not for Galiver. He wouldn’t have taken us toward our objective.”

  Bram shook his head. “No … he came here to face me. He even brought the hydralisk down here and set it all up. A lot of work, just to capture me alive.”

  Quon agreed there had to be more to it. “So why do you think he went through the trouble? Based on what you’ve told us, he’s tried to turn you multiple times, both willingly and by force. I, uh … hate to say it, but killing you would have been easier.”

  “It has to be because of my father … Azazel. He wants me alive.” Bram explained his experience in the Crevasse with Baraqiel. “Perhaps his patience will run out and he’ll want me dead, but right now it bought us some time and gave us the advantage. There’s no better time to get our hands on the Pisces Stone. In fact, I think Virgil brought me here to take me to the Ahriman. That means Richard’s here, and the sunstone’s here, too.”

  Matthias stepped forward. “If that’s what your instinct’s tellin’ ya, Bram, then that’s where we should go.”

  Quon agreed. “I trust you, Bram. We wouldn’t have made it this far without anima. We must go the rest of the way.”

  Mica spoke, too. “You saved me. You are the miracle this world has been waiting for. Look into your soul, and I know it’ll guide you on the right path.”

  Bram lowered his head. Whatever happened within him, Quon couldn’t say. But when his eyes opened, he looked confident.

  “Richard … Abaddon … is close. I’m sure of it. But it means we’ll need to spring Virgil’s trap and fight our way through. Can I count on all of you?”

  Quon wondered if he had what it took. Abaddon’s thrall were one thing, but facing the demon itself terrified him. Nevertheless, he had to avenge the men and women he killed while under its control. There was no other way to achieve penance. He would have to face his own nightmares to find salvation. Only then could he return to his wife. His beautiful Katharina.

  “I’m with you, Bram. And I’ll do everything in my power to get the sunstone.”

  Mica and Matthias agreed, and the four joined hands.

  Bram looked resolute. Their next move was decided. “To the Substratum, to King Richard, and to the sunstone. We’re going to succeed this time. We’re going to make things right.”