Would that it could be so easy with Lilith. But his treacherous lover had protected herself against him, and although he would not admit it to the others, this sort of spell, so akin to what he had done to Lucion, took much, much out of him.
So much so, in fact, that now he began to teeter.
“Catch him!” someone called. More than one pair of hands obeyed, Serenthia’s among them.
“I’m—I’m good,” he managed, straightening again. Ignoring the awed stares of the others, he turned to Serenthia. “We can—we can go after Achilios now.”
“No. Neither of us is strong enough for that, no matter how much I deeply want to. He’s followed us this long, Uldyssian; he’ll surely be in the vicinity still.”
That made sense to him, too. Achilios appeared unwilling to give up on his friends.
“For now,” Serenthia continued, “we need rest.” She looked down, and in a voice so soft that only he could hear it, added, “I also need…I need to sleep near you. Just sleep. I—I have to.”
“I understand.” She would have nightmares, Uldyssian knew, nightmares of all the things Lilith had done with and through her. From him, Serenthia sought some comfort to get her through those nightmares.
Uldyssian would gladly give her that comfort, too, and not for any other reason than that she was his friend and had been through a terrifying ordeal. More to the point, having seen Achilios reminded him of who Serenthia actually loved. What he had believed to be growing between him and her had merely been again the demoness’s seductions. Small wonder that Uldyssian had fallen into the trap so easily.
But someday…someday he would make Lilith pay… Achilios had finally stopped running. There was at least a good mile, even two, between him and the camp. Not needing to breathe, the archer had managed the distance in astounding time, even considering the dense growth around him.
As he paused, the same thoughts that had been swirling about his mind since he had begun running returned with a vengeance.
She had seen him.
Serenthia had seen him.
There had been no manner by which he could have avoided a confrontation. The demoness had made that impossible. Achilios had sensed what she had been about and that Uldyssian had been betrayed by one he trusted. The archer felt some sympathy for Romus, but not much. Unlike Uldyssian, who generally saw the good in all men, Achilios had tended to keep a watch out for the bad, as well. True, from what he had seen through the air slit the Parthan had appeared to attempt to redeem himself, but perhaps he had merely been trying to avenge his own death. Achilios neither knew nor truly cared.
All that mattered was that Serenthia was free of her possession…that, and that she had seen him.
He had no idea what to do about that.
With an unearthly groan, Achilios slumped against a tree. A small lizard near his head sought to quickly scurry away, but the hunter grabbed it without even looking. The reptile squirmed as he brought it around to view. Achilios could feel its heart beating wildly as it tried in vain to escape. It was certain it was about to be eaten.
He savored the small creature’s life motions, realizing that he was jealous even of it. A part of Achilios suddenly wanted to crush the lizard to a pulp…but instead he set it on the tree again and let it rush to the freedom it had been certain it had lost.
She had seen him…
Achilios could not get that thought out of his mind. He was haunted by it.
The archer let out a grating chuckle. He, the walking dead, was haunted.
“It…doesn’t matter…” Achilios quietly grated. “Doesn’t matter…”
But it did. He had taken some small comfort in being able to at least be near Serenthia, and on occasion, secretly aiding both her and Uldyssian. That would be next to impossible now.
Yet, if not to help those nearest and dearest to him, of what use was his resurrection? Perhaps he should call and call Rathma or the dragon until one of them came and put him to rest forever…
Despite the sense of that…Achilios uttered no sound. Even this mockery of life was something, if only because Serenthia still lived.
You must make a choice! the archer berated himself. Either stay clear forever or show yourself to her and pray that she doesn’t go screaming in terror…
Achilios grunted. More likely, Serenthia would deem him the abomination he was and use her new powers to do what he had just been considering asking of those who had brought him to this state.
And that settled it for him. He would go to her, to all of them, and reveal the truth. If she and only she demanded he return to the grave, then Achilios would obey.
He turned…and before him suddenly shone a brilliant blue light.
Achilios backed away, an arrow already drawn. A memory once hidden from him flashed through his decaying brain, a memory preceding his collapse near Hashir.
There had been a light there, too. He remembered now.
But this was not the same light, that he knew immediately. However, whatever its source, Achilios had no doubt that he would not like its presence so near.
He fired the arrow, and even as it left the bow, reached for a second.
The shaft soared into the exact center of the unsettling glow, soared into it…and out the other side. It struck a tree beyond with a hard thud.
Undaunted, the archer readied the second. This time, though, he waited.
Achilios was rewarded but a moment later. A shape vaguely human appeared in the mist of the blue light. With grim satisfaction, Achilios pulled. He thought that he caught a glimpse of some armor—a silver-blue breastplate—and adjusted his aim accordingly.
I HAVE NEED OF YOU…
The voice echoed throughout his entire rotting body in a manner akin and yet not akin to that of Trag’Oul. At the same time, Achilios’s grip on his weapon weakened. In fact, no part of him seemed to want to obey his commands anymore.
Like a rag doll, the archer collapsed.
He fell face-first, making him unable to see what was happening. Achilios listened for footsteps, but heard none. Nevertheless, when the voice spoke again, he felt as if its source now hovered over his corpse.
I HAVE NEED OF YOU… it repeated.
And, as Achilios now also recalled what had happened last time…the archer blacked out.
18
They did not find him. Despite their combined efforts, Uldyssian and Serenthia discovered no trace of Achilios. Refusing to give up, Uldyssian kept his followers in the same location for two extra days. However, by the end of that period, even Serenthia felt it unwise to postpone the march any longer.
“We have to move on. Achilios either is not around or he doesn’t wish to be found by me…at least right now,” she said morosely. “I’ve got to think it’s the second reason and that, eventually, he’ll come back to me.”
“He can’t stay away from you. I’ve known Achilios even longer than you, Serenthia. You’ll see.”
His companion nodded, glancing not for the first time out into the jungle. “Does he really think I’d be so terrified by him?”
“I told you how he looked.” Uldyssian had not been graphic in his description, but he had left nothing out. Despite that, though, Serenthia’s sympathy for the archer had only grown.
“And I’ve no doubt that I’ll probably gape and gasp when I do see him, but you say it’s still Achilios. How can I not love him, then?”
He had no answer to that. Besides, she was correct that they had to get moving. Lilith had surely not been standing by idly; whatever new course her plot had taken, it would not do to simply wait for it to pounce upon them.
That is, if it was not already too late.
Saron, a Hashiri named Rashim, and the Parthan Timeon, were now the unofficial commanders of their various folk. Uldyssian had not intended each party to be divided up so, but he also did not wish to make one group seem dominant over another. It was his hope that by treating the Parthans, Hashiri, and Torajians on an equal basis, that they would further blend and eventually he could dispense with calling them anything but edyrem.