creature that had grown inside it finally emerged to join the world. Conjured by the thousands, Nicholas’ hatchlings had been instrumental in his attempt to open the Gates of Dawn and unleash the forces of the Vagaries west of the Tolenka Mountains on Eutracia. But it was not to be, for Tristan and his Minions had battled Nicholas’ winged servants high in the sky over Farplain and then issued the final blow later, near the entrance to Shadowood. Khristos hadn’t the immense knowledge required to create such wonders, nor did he need it. His only concern was that these masterpieces of the craft still existed, and that they could be used to further his purposes.
Nicholas had been Tristan’s bastard son, Gracchus had said. A product of one of the Coven sorceresses’ rape of theJin’Sai, Nicholas had been one of the most perfect beings ever seen on this side of the world. Because of the quality of Nicholas’ magnificent blood, the spell used to conjure these eggs might survive for all time. So too would remain this wondrous chamber and the secrets that it contained. Secrets, Khristos began to realize, that would spell the final downfall of theJin’Sai, his twin sister, and the pompous Conclave.
Khristos levitated a bit higher so that he could peer down into the broken shell’s depths. He smiled, for what he saw relieved his worried heart.
The bottom of the egg still held some glowing azure fluid. That was welcome, but it was only part of what he needed. The real prize lay amid the fluid still trapped in the egg’s curved bottom. It was the red umbilical cord that had nourished the hatchling while it gestated in this egg, only to become detached and abandoned when the creature broke free to join its brothers.
Khristos did not know how the nurturing process had worked. Perhaps the azure fluid had been the creatures’ food and it had once nearly filled the eggs. The cords might have been the devices that supplied the fluid to the growing embryos. But that doesn’t matter now, he realized. What counts is that they are still here and they remain usable.
He looked down the seemingly endless rows of broken eggs and he smiled. Gracchus was right, he thought. There are more than enough here to serve my needs. He turned and looked at the thousands of Blood Vipers who waited behind in a room nearly the size of the one he had just entered.
“Come, my children!” he shouted. “Come and feast on the wonders of the Vagaries that have been left behind! Take your strength for the struggle that is to follow!”
As though they were possessed of one mind, the famished creatures slithered into the massive room to gorge themselves. As they entered, Khristos hovered higher so as to not hamper their feeding frenzy.
The famished beasts ripped into the eggs with abandon. The fluid ran down their faces and arms as they chewed savagely on the cords, and Khristos smiled as he realized that his great concern had been overcome. Before making his pact with Gracchus, Khristos’ only purpose had been to exact Failee’s revenge. But to his dismay he soon realized that his lost love’s goal would be nearly impossible to achieve.
Because he had been released from the river, he immediately knew that the sorceresses had lost the war, making his duty clear. But as Khristos ransacked Eutracian towns, it became evident that finding and killing enough persons of endowed blood to sustain his throngs of followers would be nearly impossible. So that their strength would continually grow, Failee had engineered the Blood Vipers to feed only on the livers of the endowed. After they had fed on enough endowed victims, even theJin’Sai ’s Conclave would be unable to stop them.
But Khristos soon realized that Failee’s plan was hopelessly flawed. Because not enough endowed persons could be found, Khristos’s vipers had begun to starve before his eyes. Then he made his highly unexpected pact with Gracchus and everything changed. Now there was a new foe to vanquish in Failee’s name. Khristos would do everything in his power to destroy Tristan and to see that the Vagaries ruled unopposed everywhere east of the Tolenkas, just as Failee had hoped. It gladdened his heart to know that the First Mistress’s great vision might yet be fulfilled.
Now there is plenty for my servants to eat, bringing the final victory even closer, he realized. Gracchus is indeed wise. As he watched the creatures gorge, Khristos’ consciousness drifted back in time to the previous night, when Gracchus had reached out from across the Tolenkas to again touch his mind.
Sensing Gracchus’ ken, Khristos kneeled reverently in the bloody cobblestone square. Seeing their master supplicate himself, all the Blood Vipers stopped what they were doing and bowed.
“Khristos,” the Viper Lord heard Gracchus say.
“I am here,” he answered.“Command me.”
“Go to the caves,” Gracchus said.“From your experiences in the Sorceresses’ War you know where they can be found. What you do not know is that while you lingered in the river, the late son of the reigning Jin’Saienlarged the caves, then set them to a particular purpose-one that failed but can still serve us. Because of the great power of his blood, Nicholas’ spell lives there still. Let your vipers feed on what nourished his growing hatchlings, for it will provide the same increased powers as that which you took from the bodies of the endowed. The Jin’Saiwill come soon, and you must be ready for him. He must be stopped from crossing the Azure Sea at all costs. Let your vipers feed and grow stronger, for soon the greatest struggle of your life will begin.”
“I will obey,” Khristos answered.
As his mind returned to the present, Khristos let go a smile. His vipers could gorge themselves to their hearts’ content and only increase their strength. As he watched his servants feed, he found himself eagerly waiting the impending fight.
Come to me, you filthy Vigors worshipper, he thought. Let us finish what was started so long ago.
CHAPTER XXI
The young boy sat on the floor and shivered. The usual wooden stool was not here this time. He briskly rubbed his arms, trying to warm himself as the chilliness seeped through the damp floor and crept into his bones. He did not realize that the goose bumps forming on his skin came more from his rising fear than from the cold.
As usual, he had awakened prone upon the floor. And like the times before, he could not remember who he was or where he would go after his next lesson with the robed ones. Despite his fear he decided that he didn’t care. He only wanted these sessions to end so that he might never have to come here again. Had the barren room offered up a way to kill himself, he would have done so gladly rather than face another unknown horror.
Perhaps they know that, he thought. That is why they took the stool away, thinking that I might use one of its legs to stab it into my heart and end this madness.
After a time the door creaked open to show the boy’s faceless master. As the door parted, a shaft of bright light cut through the darkness, hurting his eyes. His vision slowly adjusted, and another shiver went down his spine. Finally he looked up into the empty confines of the dark cloak hood.
If only my master would show his face, he thought. If his countenance was kind, I might not be so afraid.
The master extended one hand, then crooked a finger, beckoning the boy to stand.
“Come,” he said simply. Like the times before, his voice sounded hollow but commanding.
The boy stood on shaking legs and walked to the door. The hallway beyond looked the way he remembered, with its two rows of opposing white doors. The stark corridor held no scent, no sound, and no life except him and the tall cloaked figure standing by his side. Placing one hand atop the boy’s shoulder, the faceless master started guiding him down the seemingly endless hallway.
Soon they stopped before a door. The master pointed at the gold door handle and it levered downward. As the boy followed the master into the room, he was surprised and saddened by what he saw.
Like the hallway, the chamber was stark white and without furniture. A man stood naked in the center of the room, his hands and feet chained to four iron rings embedded in the floor. He looked to be about forty Seasons of New Life. He was filthy and emaciated, and his body bore many battle scars. His eyes seethed with hatred as he struggled against his chains.
Looking closer, the boy saw a square beeswax plaque hanging around the man’s neck from a leather string. The plaque served but one purpose, the boy knew. This man was a recently captured Shashidan who would soon be sold into slavery in Ellistium’s great forum. When the final bid was accepted and the gavel came down, the auctioneer would record the price and the buyer’s name into the plaque with a stylus. Then the slave’s new owner would lead him in chains to one of the many cashiers’ tables to arrange payment.
Suddenly another thought went through the boy’s mind. As the realization hit home he felt even colder and
