darkness was claiming her, eating into her flesh so that it turned translucent. Pelarak waved a hand through her, scattering her image like smoke.
“You went to her,” the priest said. “I spoke with your father. I know what you have done. Do you not see how foolish you are? A girl. A young, stupid girl, and yet you thought she had wisdom?”
Aaron slumped, and his eyes stared at a floor with no texture or depth.
“Her prayers were so real,” he said. “She meant them. She felt them. That is what I wanted.”
Pelarak grabbed Aaron’s hair and jerked upward so they could stare eye to eye.
“Madmen gibber that demons live within them, and that their voices torment them daily. Do they not believe as deeply as that little girl did? Why not go to them for guidance?”
To this Aaron had no answer, but Pelarak did.
“Because she had a dream that you desired,” the priest said, letting go of Aaron’s hair. “You liked what she believed. It sounded sweet. But the only thing that matters is the truth. Would you willfully live a lie just because you like it? Should I tell you that your girl is fine, and that the world is a beautiful place, and that no one will ever hurt you? I’d love to live in that world, but that doesn’t make it real. What is real, Aaron? What do you know is real?”
He thought of Robert Haern dead, killed by his student’s hands. His hands.
“I know I’ve killed those I love,” he said.
“Ah yes, and why?” Pelarak asked. “What is it that brought about their murders?”
A light flashed in Aaron’s eyes. He knew. He saw his love and devotion, saw to whom he had devoted it. His guilt and shame coalesced into a hardened arrow, no longer aimed at himself. There was one person that deserved it all. The one who had strangled his soul and perverted his desires. The one who had used his love to inspire murder and destruction. His own father.
“I prayed to Ashhur,” Aaron said. It was no lie. “Because of that, people died.”
“Precisely,” Pelarak said. “Is that Ashhur’s power? Devotion leads to death? Karak is power, boy. He is the Lion. He is King of all, and all will tremble before his roar and bow to kiss his claws.”
Suddenly Pelarak was gone. The chains cracked and broke. Aaron crumpled to the ground, shivering in the darkness. He felt cold. His teeth chattered.
And then the Lion approached. It walked from afar, too far to be inside the small room. Its fur was fire, burning atop skin made of molten rock. Eyes swirling with hatred and smoke fixated upon his trembling form. When it opened its mouth, teeth the size of daggers glistened with fresh blood.
Behold the Lion, shouted a voice, impossibly deep and booming from every corner of the room. Behold the power of his majesty.
The Lion roared. Deep within its gullet, Aaron saw a thousand weeping lives. They reached upward and wailed, their cries mixing with the mighty roar of a god. Aaron felt his soul quiver. He mashed his face to the cold dark stone. Tears flowed from his eyes. He couldn’t think. He could only tremble in wonder.
Do you doubt my authority? the Lion asked. Who are you to me, mortal? When your life ends, I am the Truth that awaits you. Where shall you stand in my eternity? Will you worship beside me, or will I consume you in fire and grind your bones in my teeth?
Aaron sobbed shamelessly. He’d never felt such terror. He was naked before a god, pathetic and helpless. He pounded his fists against the floor. Sweat covered him like a cold sheet. The Lion roared again, and its breath was fire and teeth. His clothes ripped and his flesh tore. Blood spilled outward in bizarre directions, as if the laws of the world had no bearing within Karak’s sacred room.
Will you swear your life to me? the Lion asked.
A deep part of Aaron wanted to submit. He wanted the terror to end. The darkness would consume him, and it seemed wisest to surrender. Beside the Lion was better than the wailing he heard within. Infinitely better.
Aaron thought of what Robert had said. Ashhur was everything good in mankind. With tears in his eyes, he looked up to the Lion, searching for that same goodness. He saw none of it within the fire. Death, consumption, anger and condemnation looked upon him, smoldering in physical form. None of the love that had filled Delysia’s prayers could live within that horrific creature. He felt his mind splitting, as if two paths were before him and half wanted down one and half the other.
Swear it! the Lion roared. On your knees, swear your life to me. I will have it no other way. Death is your fate, child. I see it clearer than you see the sun and moon. You will die by the hand of a friend if you resist my mercy. Beside me, you will rule Neldar as a demigod.
Two paths. Two beings. Two minds. His father desired that first path, the easy path, one of bloodshed and murder. But the one Robert Haern had kindled, the one Kayla had protected and Delysia nurtured, led away into deadly light. Each filled him with fear. Deep down, he knew which was right. He knew the choice he should make. But he was afraid.
Choose! roared the Lion. Now, or I will burn away everything that makes you who you are, and deliver unto the priests an empty shell.
He couldn’t choose. Terror overwhelmed him. Stars swirled in the darkness about the Lion, as if the very heavens circled the embodiment of Karak. Smoke billowed from its nostrils. Its eyes flared with impatience. The Lion opened its mouth and snarled. His time was up. The moment was gone.
Aaron felt the roar wash over him, stronger than any before. It felt like the world would shatter beneath its strength. His ears would never hear again. His eyes burned with tears. The breath in his lungs halted. His heart beat wildly. Within his mind a fire raged, consuming all. The choice. There was only one. Aaron knew it. The fire was an altar, and he laid down his sacrifice.
Everything that meant to be Aaron, to be the son of Thren Felhorn, to murder without guilt and devote everything to bloodshed and slaughter, he flung upon that altar. He openly welcomed the roar, now a cleansing fire. He let it destroy his fear. He let it obliterate his lack of remorse. It tore down his walls. In the midst of that roar, he laughed.
“Let Aaron die,” he said. “Haern lives.”
More phantom cuts lashed his arms and chest. The blood now flowed the correct direction. Smoke poured into his lungs. His head swam, light and dizzy and free. His neck drooped. His eyes closed. A laugh still on his lips, he succumbed to unconsciousness as the Lion roared in victory.
C ome,” Pelarak said as he opened the door. Two more priests stepped inside, joining him in a small square room. The walls were bare and gray, the floor cool stone.
“Were you successful?” one of the other priests asked.
“He has seen the Lion,” Pelarak said. “None but the most faithful have done so and lived. When he awakes, his heart will belong to Karak. Of that I am certain.”
“Praise be,” said the other.
They carried the boy out of the room. Pelarak watched them leave, a small frown on his face. Something felt wrong, but he couldn’t decide what. He hadn’t heard the words of the Lion, nor seen its vision, but he had felt its awesome power as he watched Aaron sob and cry on his knees. There was something unsettling about how Aaron had laughed at the very end.
Determined to question Aaron when he awakened, Pelarak stepped out of the most holy of rooms. He’d devote an hour to prayer, then seek the sleep he most desperately needed. Perhaps things would seem better in the morning.
23
Y ou mustn’t stop,” Zusa insisted as the two ran. “The paladin will follow. He will always follow.”
Alyssa nodded. Her breathing had become ragged, and her left side ached as if a dagger was lodged within. They’d run west, away from the camp and away from Veldaren’s walls. A few times they’d shifted directions, but only to avoid the hills that surrounded the area.
“Where,” Alyssa said, feeling light-headed and unable to voice the rest of her question.
“The river is near,” Zusa said. “We will use that as we must.”
Alyssa did her best to keep up, but they had run for almost an hour after fleeing the Kull’s camp. She’d never
