Would that my concerns would all revolve around something so mundane as love, Mendeln finally thought. Matters would be so much more simple.
But if it was not any imminent danger to Uldyssian, then what troubled Mendeln so? As he wended his way back to his sleeping place, he considered the event again. No dream of significance came to him. No sound had touched his ears. By rights, he should still be fast asleep.
Mendeln looked about and only then noticed that the area was devoid of his own companions. There was always a ghost around, some shade who could not immediately detach itself from his presence. The party had left Toraja not only with new converts, but also several dozen specters who, for the most part, had perished in the struggle. Many had disappeared along the way, but a few new ones had joined during the day’s march. Most of those had been unlucky hunters or travelers who had fallen victim to the dangers of the jungle. Like the rest, they appeared to be wanting something from Mendeln, but when it became clear that he would not give it to them, gradually faded away once more.
But rarely did all of them disappear.
Curious, Mendeln headed to the edge of camp. He could see far better than anyone else in the dark, but still all he noted was more and more shadows.
And yet…was there a slight movement well to his right?
“Come to me…” he whispered. The first time he had spoken such words, it had summoned the ghosts even closer to him. Normally, Mendeln kept from summoning them, but if this specter had significance to him and his brother, it behooved him to find out.
But the shape did not drift forward, and in fact, the more Mendeln eyed it, the less certain he was that he had seen correctly. Now it did resemble some fern or other plant, not a man…
But the sensation continued to press at his mind. Exhaling in exasperation, Mendeln entered the jungle. He knew that he took some risk, for while the insects that plagued most of the others stayed clear of him, he did not know if the same held true for the huge carnivores of whom the Torajians spoke.
In his eyes, the jungle at night was lovelier, like a beautiful, mysterious woman. The dangers hidden by the dark made that woman only more thrilling. As he forayed deeper, Mendeln marveled that such imagery would occur to him. Yes, he was definitely no longer the frightened child he had been even after growing up.
The shape Mendeln had noticed had to be near, but now nothing he saw even remotely resembled it. Had it been, after all, his imagination or had whoever he had seen retreated once discovered?
A hand touched his shoulder.
He spun about…and found nobody behind him.
“Who are you?” Mendeln whispered.
The jungle remained steadfastly silent. Too silent, in fact, for a place where the calls of the daylight were often but a murmur compared to those beginning once the sun was gone. The jungle held more life in it than a thousand Serams, yet none of that was apparent now. From the smallest to the largest, the fauna was conspicuously absent.
But no sooner had Mendeln thought that when the leaves to his left rustled…and a form moving on two legs slipped by at the edge of his vision.
“Spare me your tricks and games!” he growled. “Show yourself or else!” Mendeln had no idea exactly what “or else” might be. In past circumstances of danger, he had suddenly spouted words in an ancient tongue he had never known, words of power that had saved him more than once. However, whether those words would protect him from the lurker, he was not so certain.
It moved again, this time to his right. Mendeln automatically spouted a word—and a brief, gray glow filled the immediate vicinity.
But what he saw was not at all what he expected.
“No…” Uldyssian’s brother rasped, refusing to accept what that momentary glow had revealed. “No…”
It had to be a delusion…or a trick, he thought. Yes, that made sense and hardened his resolve.
Mendeln could think of only one being who would do such an obscene thing.
“Lilith…” And here he was alone, a fool overconfident in his feeble abilities. No doubt the demoness was readying the fatal blow. How would it come? Mendeln would perish in some monstrous manner, naturally, his death drawn out.
Oddly, death itself did not disturb him. It was the part just before that which Mendeln wished to avoid.
He would not show her any fear. If somehow he could use his demise to help or at least warn Uldyssian, then that was something. “Very well, Lilith. You have me. Come and do what you wish.”
Words formed on his tongue. His hopes rose slightly. He knew that the words’ power would give him some chance to at least stave off the inevitable…
Something whizzed past his ear. There was a grotesque, bestial howl, followed by a dull thunk, as if something had collided with one of the many trees.
Mendeln peered in the direction of the howl and saw something sinister standing against one of the thick trunks. When he saw that the thing did not move, he finally approached it.
It was a morlu…a morlu with an arrow through the throat just where the helmet and breastplate left only half an inch of space. Mendeln started to reach for the arrow, its presence stirring another nightmare—
The morlu lifted his head, the black pits staring at Mendeln. The warrior grasped for Uldyssian’s brother.
The same words that he had earlier used on one of these fiends in the house of Master Ethon spilled from Mendeln. As they did, the morlu’s grasping hands twitched wildly. A gurgle escaped the pale lips.
The morlu slumped again, only the arrow pinning him to the tree keeping the bestial figure from falling at Mendeln’s feet.
Without hesitation, Mendeln put a hand over the monstrous warrior’s chest. Other words, again first used in Partha, sprang easily from the lips of Uldyssian’s brother.
Most would have been unable to see the small, black cloud that rose from the morlu. It hovered over Mendeln’s palm. He stared at the foulness for a moment, then snapped shut his hand.
The cloud vanished.
“No more will you be raised to do evil.” Whatever darkness animated a morlu, gave it semblance of true life, would not be able to resurrect this particular corpse. Mendeln had made certain of that.
But there still remained whatever had initially rescued him from the Triune’s servant. Mendeln finally touched the arrow, noting with mild dismay that there was dirt all over the shaft. Just like the arrow that had slain one of the Peace Warders.
“It cannot be…he is dead…”
But life is only a robe which all wear but fleeting…
Though the thought flowed through his mind, Mendeln by no stretch of the imagination believed it his own. He had felt that other presence in his head before. It had always guided him, yet, now what it said only made Mendeln more anxious.
“No!” he growled at the darkness. “He is dead! To think otherwise is evil! He is buried! I was there! I chose the spot! I chose—”
He had chosen to bury the body very near an ancient structure bearing the same sort of markings as the stone near Seram. Mendeln gaped at his own naivety. Why did he think that he had chosen that very location? Something had urged him to do it and he had blithefully acquiesced.
Shaking his head, Mendeln backed up—
And collided with another form.
Uldyssian’s brother spun around…and stared into the pale, dirty face of Achilios.
6
Astrogha was a demon of ambitions. He had sat near the taloned hand of Diablo, the greatest of the Prime Evils, and had learned well. It had always chafed him to be subservient to Lucion, but then Lucion had actually been the son of Mephisto so there had been little he could do about it.