“Could not—” Mendeln felt queasy in his stomach. He had defied the angel’s will?
“Did you not know that? I thought you aware.”
Seeking not to think about the subject anymore, Mendeln asked, “What is it that he kept mentioning? Did I hear him say the Worldstone ? I know that it was mentioned by you or Uldyssian when the pair of you returned, but I never understood completely about it! Just what did Uldyssian do that so—so—shocked —him?”
Rathma’s expression darkened. “That will take a bit more explaining. Suffice to say, we are near that which is vital to the conclusion—whatever that conclusion will be—of our struggle. The Worldstone is a thing that only one like my father should be able to alter in even the least way—and, therefore, could my mother—yet your brother did just that! The Worldstone is different now, in even a manner Inarius cannot believe, hence his reaction.”
At first, Mendeln took hope from this, but then he recalled the angel’s parting words. Then, he may have condemned you all…
Mendeln surveyed what even the least of Inarius’s fury had done to a gigantic mountaintop and shuddered. “Rathma, what does he mean by his last?”
Lilith’s son held his dagger high, as if using it to search for something. Mendeln waited impatiently as the tall figure first turned in a circle, then replaced the otherworldly weapon in the vast confines of his cloak.
“What he means has to do with the same reason that we, who could not make the stand that I hoped—and evidently did not need to since Inarius made no adjustment to the stone that I can divine—are still alive. Why should he bother with two paltry deaths when, if he reaches the conclusion to which I sense he is leaning, he will then remove everything at once and start his Sanctuary anew?”
Only now did Mendeln truly grasp what he realized Rathma and Trag’Oul had been saying all along. “Rather than…rather than allowing Lilith…or humans…to act beyond his dictates…you are saying that the angel could…would utterly destroy our world?”
“And then build anew to suit his megalomania, yes.”
Mendeln could not even imagine such power in one being’s control. “He can… do this?”
“He can.” Rathma began drawing a circle in the air, a circle that expanded instantly. As it did, Mendeln saw that within it was utter darkness…the path, he knew, to Trag’Oul’s realm. “He has that power…” the angel’s son continued, sounding for the first time very, very weary. “He has that power a thousand times over…and will be more than willing to use it…” Lilith materialized on the throne, her image only briefly that of herself before she cast the illusion of the Primus over her. The demoness sat in the darkness, utterly silent. Had any been there and able to gaze upon the face she now wore, they would have come away unable to read the emotions coursing through her.
After several minutes, she suddenly rose and departed the Primus’s personal chambers. The guards outside jolted to attention. Although they had been at their positions as demanded, they had assumed—rightly—that their master had not been inside. Still, none questioned this miraculous appearance…for this was the Primus, after all.
At least, to their eyes.
Lilith remained expressionless as she strode throughout the vast temple. There seemed no rhyme or reason to her path. Priests, guards, novices, and other acolytes paid homage to her along the way, each seeming to try to bow or kneel lower than those before.
Then, in the great hall where the statues of Mefis, Dialon, and Bala stood, she paused. Around her, more of the faithful hesitated in their own tasks, cautiously wondering just what the Primus did.
She looked up at each of the statues…her eyes lingering longest on that of Mefis.
And then…after staring at the spirit’s vaguely crafted visage, Lilith allowed the Primus’s own to smile ever so slightly.
“Yes,” she murmured. “Yes, that’ll be the way of it. Oh, yes…”
One of the more daring priests stepped up to her. Hands clasped together and head low, he said, “Great Primus, is there any service I may be to you?”
Lilith glanced at him, noting his youth and good build, not to mention the fact that he had been the only one with backbone enough to approach her. “Tell me…what is your name again, my son?”
“Durram, Great Primus.” He wore the robe of a devotee of Dialon and she already sensed that the darkness of the Lord of Terror had touched Durram despite his humble facade. He was ambitious.
“I will summon you to my chambers later to speak with you,” she told him, forcing herself not to give him a beguiling smile. Lilith had a need to burn off certain frustrations and Durram looked just perfect for the task, not that he would know until it was too late.
The priest bowed lower than any of the others. Inside, the demoness sensed he was congratulating himself on his daring. She wondered how he would feel after their “discussion.”
But minor pleasures had to be pushed aside for the moment. Having come to a decision, Lilith was eager to implement it. Once again, the proverbial closing of one door had led to another opening.
“I must go,” she informed Durram.
“I will await your summons, Great Primus.”
Lilith could not forgo a brief feminine chuckle, but Durram did not hear it. As she passed the bowing priest, she blithely commented, “Durram. Clear the vicinity. An accident is about to happen.”
To his credit, Durram was quick to obey. As he shouted the warning, Lilith strode off. She waited until she had reached the corridor leading back to the Primus’s chambers, then glanced over her shoulder.
There was a resounding crack—and the statue of Mefis suddenly toppled from its high perch.
Had it fallen moments earlier, at least a score of humans would have been crushed or badly injured. As it was, the statue’s collision with the marble floor sent huge chunks flying in every direction. Durram had done well in directing the others away, but a few were still within range of the deadly missiles.
The demoness gestured—making certain that some of the guards and others nearby noticed—and those who were about to be struck were saved. The pieces turned to light ash, then faded, not even leaving a trace upon their supposed victims.
The dust began to settle. To one of the guards, Lilith commanded, “All are well. It remains only to clear the rubble. The priest Durram will oversee it.”
The awed guard nodded. “Yes, Great Primus!”
“I must go and meditate on this event…and consider what form the new image of Mefis must take.”
No one questioned her. In fact, she knew that word was already spreading—with Durram’s aid—of the Primus’s holy warning that had saved so many. Once again, they had witnessed a miracle.
But Lilith had not warned them for their sake. After all, she had been the cause of the statue’s collapse. She had been simply reassuring the Primus’s grand status in the temple, for what she planned soon would push these humans to the limits of their wills…and likely cost many their lives. Of course, as they would have willingly given those lives for their Primus and she was now him, that was a negligible point.
The demoness took one last look at the statue. Turning from her followers, she allowed herself a slight smirk, then whispered, “So sorry, Father…”