But that was ridiculous. Uldyssian could not imagine a more unlikely scenario. He dismissed the notion, more concerned with another aspect of the situation. “Serenthia. She’s safe now, right?”
“It would seem so. You protected her well, brother.”
That reminded Uldyssian of something else. “Yes, and you protected me—”
“But not so well.”
Waving that aside, Uldyssian growled, “You know what I mean, Mendeln! I’ve been patient, but something’s touched you that has nothing to do with the gifts I’ve shown the rest! You’ve changed! Sometimes, I’m not even certain to whom I’m talking!”
The younger brother bowed his head. “Neither am I,” he whispered. “Neither am I.”
“We’ve got to have this out between us,” Uldyssian persisted. “I’ve got to know what’s happening to you…and how it might affect those with us. There are too many things at stake!”
“Yes…I agree.” Mendeln glanced back at the crushed building. “But not here. Not now. Tonight. When all others sleep.”
“Mendeln—”
Uldyssian’s brother raised his hands palm forward. Almost pleading, he added, “It must be in the night…and only the two of us.”
Mendeln clamped his mouth shut. Uldyssian knew that he would get no more out of him. Still, “Tonight, then. Tonight and no later. I mean that, Mendeln.”
The other nodded, then turned and walked back. Uldyssian stood for a moment, watching Mendeln’s retreating form. Then, without effort, someone else invaded his thoughts.
Serenthia…
And with her gently smiling face burning into his mind, Uldyssian forgot about demon spirits and mysterious brothers. All that mattered was returning to the others and making certain that she was all right.
After that? Uldyssian could only pray that Achilios—wherever he was—would forgive his friend’s weakness.
7
As the sun settled over the horizon, the edyrem began to look for a place to camp. Mendeln, who had steered clear of his brother after the ruins, studied his many companions with an unusual anxiety. He lagged behind as they pushed toward the chosen location—a relatively clear area about ten minutes’ walk to the river—then paused by a trunk as if taking a breath.
They had found the crossing of which Serenthia had earlier claimed to have heard about from someone else. A convenient crossing it had been, wide enough to enable several people to simultaneously move to the other side. By the time he and Uldyssian had reached the others, more than a third had already made it, Serenthia apparently leading the way.
She had been most delighted to see Uldyssian, delighted enough to run into his arms. If not for Mendeln’s presence, he suspected that the embrace might have led to something more right there. The battle against the creature in the ruins had obviously changed Uldyssian’s mind about her and it seemed Serenthia had no more qualms concerning the late, lamented Achilios.
And that now bothered Mendeln more than the danger that they had this day faced.
The last vestiges of daylight had given way to the torches and—more and more—glow lights many of the fledgling edyrem were now able to cast. Some of those Mendeln watched looked much too confident with their minor success; a glow light would scarcely fend off Peace Warders, morlu, or demons.
At last his opportunity came. All eyes were focused on other matters and Uldyssian could only see Serenthia. Mendeln slowly backed into the jungle.
He went headed not toward the river, but rather back along their trail. Despite his heightening anxiety, Mendeln’s breathing remained calm. It was as if he were two men in one body, the newcomer adapting to whatever change around him as necessary.
Mendeln counted each step. Twenty. Fifty. A hundred…
At precisely that many, the figure he had been expecting to meet appeared from around a tree as if by magic…which very likely was the case.
“Always…timely…Mendeln…” The voice, so familiar, carried with it now a raspiness, as if the other constantly needed to clear something from his throat.
Mendeln suspected that what needed to be cleared out was dirt.
“I promised I would meet you at the appointed time…Achilios.”
A short, harsh chuckle escaped the half-seen figure. The archer took a step closer.
Mendeln did not gasp, having done enough of that the first time he had been confronted by the dead man. After all, before him stood his good friend, even if that friend had a gaping hole in his throat, the edges of which were lined with congealed blood and more dirt. Uldyssian’s brother did not bother to wonder how the blond hunter could even speak, considering that awful gap. Achilios existed now because of some force beyond mortal ken, a force surely powerful enough to give voice to the cold corpse it had animated.
But that description seemed cruel to Achilios, Mendeln suddenly decided. Achilios was no shambling ghoul nor a fiend like the morlu. The spark that was the archer did indeed still make house in his remains; there was no doubting that. True, the flesh was as pale as the whites of Achilios’s eyes—which were completely white now—and there always seemed to be bits of fresh ground spilled over him, but it was still the man the sons of Diomedes had always known. Achilios even showed embarrassment over his condition; even now he tried to wipe his hand clean so that he could clasp Mendeln’s.
Rather than let the archer continue a useless task, the black-clad figure reached out and seized the grimy hand. He shook it as he would have if both were still back home and nothing had changed for either. Not even death.
The shadow of a smile escaped Achilios. Even in his present state, he was a handsome man, lean like the prey he had so successfully hunted…until Lucion. Mendeln had always envied the blond hunter his looks, although the latter had never been vain about them. It had been the perversity of fate that he, who could have had so many women, had desired the only one who had not wanted him…until just before his slaughter. “Braver than…you used to…be…”
“You are my friend.”
“I am as dead as these tree dwellers I caught.” Achilios reached behind him and brought forth a brace of tailed beasts the size of cats and obviously related to them. He set his catch by Mendeln.
The scene both amused and saddened Uldyssian’s brother. Even in the state that he was, Achilios could not keep from his calling. Perhaps, Uldyssian’s brother thought, it was because it allowed him to play at his former life, to pretend that terrible events had never happened.
“And how may I explain this bounty when I return?” Mendeln gently joked. “All know my prowess with hunting. I am fortunate if I can catch a mushroom, as quick and cunning as they are.”
Achilios grimaced. “I… thought of… that… but… I hunted, anyway…”
Again, he attempted to brush himself clean. Yet, although even in the dark Mendeln could see the dirt fly from the archer’s pants, boots, and shirt…it almost immediately seemed to be replaced by more simply forming from nothing on Achilios’s very body.
“I have spoken with Uldyssian,” Mendeln finally interjected, as much to put an end to Achilios’s perpetually futile effort as it was to bring the conversation around to the matter at hand. Not the original conversation that they had planned, but the one he now felt superceded all others. “and I have come to a decision. It is time he was told of your presence. I will bring him out here to—”
“No.”
Mendeln had expected argument and while he respected his friend’s awful position, this was something that could not be avoided. “Uldyssian is your friend, just as I am. He will see beyond what has happened to you—”
The archer’s expression tightened, the white eyes narrowing dangerously. “No…Mendeln…it can’t…be that way…don’t say…any more…”