Izac continued. “From the descriptions of those who disappeared from Deepwell two months ago, I believe his name is Ruwen Starfield. The blonde woman is Hamma Blakrock, and the other two weren’t listed. Do those names trigger anything?”
Even though he’d spent decades in the Spirit Realm, he remembered nothing about it. “I am sorry, no.”
Izac stared at Jagen intently. “You were seen with Uru’s three Champions and a few others at a Cultivator match involving one of Lalquinrial’s lackeys, the Scarecrow. From my source’s descriptions, these women might have been there with you. I’m uncertain if the males were at the Spirit Realm event, but from the fight at Uru’s temple, I know they both have Step training, although I can’t tell which Clan. Is any of this helping?”
Jagen shook his head, depressed and angry that part of his life had disappeared.
Izac growled, turned, and punched the air. Fifteen miles away the mountain called Izac’s Wrath, shattered. Chunks of rock the size of Malth sailed into the air, and a second later a deafening boom shook the city. Izac clenched his other hand, and the broken mountain reformed, the pieces traveling in reverse. In moments, the mountain appeared whole again, as if nothing had occurred.
Jagen shuddered at the immense display of power.
Izac faced Jagen. “None of this makes any sense. Miranda came to that fight with hundreds of the Black Pyramid’s followers. I think she gave everyone a Wyrm Coin, including you, to conceal the actual person she wanted to pass information, or possibly misinformation, to.”
“Did you discover what I did with my coin?” Jagen asked excitedly.
Izac shook his head. “As the Adjudicator of the Pact, Miranda’s logs are visible to us, but they lacked critical details. I know you didn’t get a physical item, as those were listed. In fact, that’s why our librarian is here.” Izac turned to the man hunched in the middle of the platform. “What did you learn about the books the Scarecrow received?”
Izac’s Ink Lord, one of the most powerful people in the country, flinched and kept his head pressed to the floor. The bald librarian’s robe was constructed from the tendons and muscle fiber of Gem level beasts, giving the grey-red cloth the protection of plate. Ink Lords had the most exotic armor, and Jagen hoped to add a set to his collection someday.
“It was as you suspected, my Lord,” the librarian said. “The books, when taken together, hint at the iris portals. But, I’m confident anyone who made that correlation would have gone much further south. It is my humble opinion that the Great Wyrm purposely tried to mislead Lalquinrial’s follower, the Scarecrow.”
Izac nodded. “That is interesting. Lalquinrial never joined our Pact and has kept himself removed from our affairs. Why would he send his Scarecrow to help my sister’s Champions in the Spirit Realm? What does he need so desperately that he risks angering the rest of us? And, most importantly, if he ferried my sister’s people out of the Spirit Realm, why would he take you as well? Is he trying to send me a message? A gift to soothe my anger for helping my sister? Was he the one who hid your memories?”
“All excellent questions,” Jagen said. He brought up one explanation. “Maybe the Ascended aren’t able to retain memories from the Spirit Realm?”
“That’s possible,” Izac said. “Perhaps I’ll speak to Naktos again. Failing to keep my sister’s Champions trapped in the Spirit Realm has made him quite unpopular. He may part with some of his precious knowledge to regain his standing.”
Jagen nodded. “I would welcome some answers.”
“As would I,” Izac said. “Which is why I’m sending you to the Infernal Realm. Lalquinrial has enemies, and they will be interested to know Miranda might share their views. Just the fact he is aiding my sister should damage his standing among the Infernal Clans. Discover the demon god’s motivation and why his Scarecrow helped my sister. We can use that to our advantage.”
Jagen had just returned from a forced confinement in the Spirit Realm and had no desire to visit the Infernal Realm, but he knew the consequences of complaining. “As you wish, my Lord.”
Izac looked toward the distant mountain. “My sister has never seen reason, and I fear her misguided beliefs have doomed her. The sacrifice she made to regain her third temple reveals her desperation, which makes her even more dangerous. Once she is gone, nothing will stop my plans, and even the Universe will tremble at my power.”
Jagen remained quiet, trying to imagine a world where Izac had even more power. He could hear the tension in his Lord’s voice, and knew, just like a spring, it would eventually release. Sadness overwhelmed him, and for a moment, he envied the peace the Bone Sculptor at his feet had found, even if briefly.
If Lalquinrial had hidden Jagen’s memories, maybe another demon could find them. He would do more than his Lord’s bidding in the Infernal Realm. He would figure out how to make himself whole again.
Whatever the cost.
Chapter 1
Blapy’s blond pigtails bounced as she walked next to Ruwen, and he reminded himself this wasn’t a seven-year-old, but the most dangerous creature in the Universe. They had left New Eiru, the moonlight providing enough light to see, even in the thick pine trees. Whiskers, Ruwen’s cat summoned with his Watcher’s Ring of Travel, scouted the area ahead.
They had spent the walk here discussing the two months Ruwen and his friends had spent in the Spirit Realm, the battle against the Bone Sculptor to retake the city, and his new Architect Role that enabled him to restore Uru’s temple. As they’d ventured farther from the city, the conversation had shifted to Fractal, Ruwen’s dungeon eight hundred miles north, and where to put the new portal.
Blapy pointed her stuffed centipede at him. “This is as
