Sera folded her legs under her on the large chair next to the crackling fireplace. The sweet smell of hickory filled the air. “I don’t get it. What is your endgame with Carter? What was the point of Belial getting him to infect himself with Tianarri Moss?”
“What do you know about the Walker of Worlds and what he does?” Drago spoke without turning from the map spread over the long table.
She shrugged. “Not much. I know Lucas wants his power.” She folded her hands over her knee. “As far as to what he can actually do, I’ve not seen much.”
The Dark Dwarf made a mark on the chart. “The Walker of Worlds is capable of fighting, and defeating, gods. He – or she – can kill, or banish them if need be.”
“How is this possible?”
“It’s how they were created. Other than that, I don’t have a clue.”
“If Carter is able of fighting gods…” She trailed off with a frown.
“Why do I put myself as his opponent?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve seen him. Watched him fight. What do you think?” He turned and stared up at her, leaning against the chair with his arms folded over his barrel chest.
“He seemed like any other man.” She scratched her elbow. “Yet he fights demons with ease.”
“Go on.”
“Is he only a threat to gods and demons?”
“You saw his performance in Belial’s arena. Do you think he’s only a threat to them?”
Sera ducked her head, resting her mouth on her wrist, deep in thought. Drago waited. He knew she would get it. After several moments, she raised her head. “He got better with each fight. The arena was to train him, then?”
“It was to test and assess. As you say, he improved with each battle. Though Carter is untrained as Walker, he is still a deadly threat.”
“Then did Belial not kill him outright?”
“Think about it. When you realize the answer to that question, you’ll also learn the reason for the infection.”
“He wanted to control him. And it backfired.” She rose from her seat and crossed to the table. Glancing at the map, she noticed Drago seemed to be creating a path. She tapped the freshest mark. “Is this where he is?”
“Yes.”
“Shall I gather an army and take him?”
“We cannot right now. The land is warded.”
“Damn it.” Leaning against the table, and resting her elbows on the map, she tapped her fingers together. “Why are they called ‘Walker of Worlds’?”
“Because that is what they do. They travel from world to world in the multiverse, bringing balance.”
“Wait. There really is a multiverse?”
He titled his head. “What do you mean?”
“In my world, the idea of a multiverse is only a mathematical theory without empirical evidence for it. It’s only one of many about the universe, though.”
“What is a theory?”
“Well, as scientists define it, a theory is a coherent group of tested general propositions, commonly regarded as correct, that can be used as principles of explanation and prediction for a class of phenomena.”
“Interesting.” He turned back to his map, drawing reports closer to him. “What is a scientist?”
“An expert in science, which is systemized knowledge.”
“Like magic?”
She shook her head. “No. In my world, magic doesn’t exist.”
Drago straightened and faced her. “Magic doesn’t exist? But, it is an integral part of life. How can life exist without magic?” His voice was higher pitched, his eyes blinked rapidly.
“In my world, gods don’t exist, and so, didn’t create life.”
“Where did it come from, then?” He leaned forward.
“The stars.”
He scratched his chin. “The stars?”
“Yes. The stars are made of elements that lead to life after billions of years.”
“How, though?”
She shrugged. “I don’t really know. I’m not a scientist.”
“That is very odd.”
Another shrug. “What does this have to do with Carter?”
“Nothing. I was curious about your world.”
“You still haven’t explained how having control of Carter will help you make things equal between all the races.”
“No, I haven’t.” Crossing over to a shelf, he pulled down a book and flipped through it. As he did, a blue winged bat flew into the room and landed on the table. Sera reached for it and Drago spoke. “If you value your hand, don’t.”
She yanked her hand back and it grew into a tall man dressed in high quality robes.
“I’d not have torn off her hand, Lord Drago. What kind of man do you take me for?” His tone was deep, melodic with a hint of laughter.
“I take you for a vampire, Rorikil. Which is what you are.”
The newcomer smiled. “True, but I’m not a werewolf like Devoril. Now, he probably would have taken the lovely young lady’s hand.”
He turned and bowed, giving Sera a good look at him. Snow white hair was slicked back from piercing ice blue eyes. His azure robes were of an antique design that the lich Zatanna favored. A scarlet brocade doublet was detailed with arcane symbols surrounding a silvery stag. Worn, yet polished to a mirror sheen boots clad his feet.
“What do you have to report, Rorikil?” Her question was a demand, laced with imperiousness.
An elegantly arched eyebrow curved up. “Who are you, little one?” He cocked his head to the left as he imperceptibly leaned forward.
She shifted sideways with a slight movement. “Drago’s second. Now answer my question.” Her hips dropped a few inches.
He locked his eyes on her. She smirked and then shut hers. “Commanding doesn’t work on me, Vampire. I know how to combat it.”
He darted forward, moving faster than Drago could follow. Sera halted his advance with her hand on his throat. She lifted him in the air with ease.
“I’m also stronger than you, no matter how old you are. Last year, I killed the First for being too snippy.” Sera opened her eyes and locked gazes with her captive. “I did it with my bare hands.” Setting him back on his feet, she growled, “Now, you have something to report?”
Rorikil rubbed his neck, not sure why it burned. “Carter is no longer in the land of the Swamp Elves. He has gone north, into the mountains.” He tilted his next from one side to the other. The burning was a bit worse.
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She glanced to the Dark Dwarf. “Now may I go after him?”
“Why do you want to face him so badly?”
“I want to see if he’s gotten stronger.”
“You think surviving for six years in the Abyss isn’t proof enough?”
“Of course not. I do it for fun, remember?”
“I do. And it always worries me when you go.”
She crossed over to him and placed her hands on his shoulders. As she leaned over, he rose on his toes and so she could kiss his cheek. “If you’re not careful, my lord, people might think you care.”
He swatted her butt. “I do care, Sera. I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you.”
“The day the untrained Walker of Worlds can defeat me if the day I stop fighting.”
She then strode out of the library, pulling the door behind her.
Rorikil waited until her footsteps faded away. “I can’t believe you were able to say that with a straight face.” He bared his fangs at the closed door.
Drago smirked. “It’s easy to lie to those you’ve relieved of their virginity.” He crossed the room to a desk shrouded in magical darkness and sat. He retrieved a scroll and unfurled it. “Human women get very emotionally attached from that.”
The vampire chortled. “You were her first lover?”
The Dark Dwarf nodded.
“May I have her when you grow bored?”
Drago smirked. “As always, my friend.”
“Good. I owe her for that stunt she pulled.” Rorikil rubbed his neck again.
“Still burning?”
“Yes. What does she have on her hands?”
“Powdered silver. It’s a nasty trick she picked up from one of these.” He waved at the book shelf.
“So that is why I couldn’t break free.”
Drago nodded.
“I’m guessing that is how she was able to defeat the First?” The vampire raised his right eyebrow.
“Partially. I fed him a sanctified human first, though.”
“How did he cross you?”
“By attempting to make a deal with the Walker.” He lifted a quill from an inkpot and wrote on the parchment. “He didn’t get far.”
“That was stupid. Do you need me for anything else, my lord Drago?”
“Not right now. Go get someone to eat. I’ll call for you if I need you.”
“By your leave, Sire.” The vampire bowed deep.
After his lieutenant left, Drago dropped the quill back into the ink and rested his chin on his hand as he gazed out the window.
###
The Mer throne room was a breathtaking fusion of natural wonder, regal craftsmanship and advanced technology, carved deep into a massive coral reef. Towering columns of living coral, teeming with vibrant marine life, rose from the ocean floor to form the room’s vaulted ceiling, with shimmering schools of fish weaving through the translucent arches. The walls are adorned with glowing, bioluminescent plants, holographic displays and swirling patterns of polished shell, reflecting the pale light of the sea through enchanted crystal windows.
Carter felt the subtle resistance of the water as he moved, every step a careful balance to avoid floating, unlike the graceful drift of Amando’s robes.
At the room’s heart, the throne itself appeared to grow from the coral, an intricate masterpiece of twisting branches and an alloy of the same sort as Conker’s Blade. It was encrusted with pearls, glimmering gems and screens in the arms with shifting scenes. The Mer King sat, his presence as formidable as the ocean depths surrounding his court. An orange-black trident leaned against the back of the throne, yet within easy reach. His imposing figure was draped in seaweed-like robes which rivaled the regal finery of Carter’s wife.
Carter’s own armor, ragged and patched, normally a point of pride for him made him feel rather shabby in comparison. ‘Leather really stands out next to the flesh-like coral armor of the guards outside.’ He glanced over to his guide.
Amando had been uncharacteristically quiet since their arrival. The usual playful glint in his eyes was replaced with something more serious—a tension Carter had not seen before. Even now, as they approached the throne, Amando’s steps faltered ever so slightly, not as fluid as usual.
The Mer King did not rise to greet them. His voice, when it came, was as sonorous as the ocean, as if itself spoke through him. “You must be the surface dweller my son has taken an unseemly interest in.”
“Unseemly, sire?” Carter cocked his head to the right.
“You’re a land dweller.”
“Father, Carter i—”
“Silence.” The monarch’s voice was razor sharp. “In here, I am your king.” He leaned forward. “If you paid as much attention to your duties as you do to the surface world, you’d remember this.”
The prince wilted under the rebuke. Carter opened his mouth, and then closed it.
“Speak, if you must, human.”
Carter’s fingers twitched toward his sword hilt out of reflex, then he forced his hands to relax as he fought the urge to defend his friend in this court where words carried more weight than steel. ‘How would Adora handle a dick like this?’ A memory of how his wife handled Donnell Maverick after his attempt to force her to marry him three years ago. She’d been gracious to the asshole and ignored his actions, saying that due to his power as lord of the breadbasket of the Realm, he was politically untouchable. “Kind of like this dick.’ Carter glowered at the Mer King, jaw tight.
“I am the Patchwork Knight, Lavitz of Rivorei. I had the honor of aiding His Highness the Prince in retrieving a family heirloom from the Swamp Elves.” Carter bowed over his outstretched right leg in the manner of Adora’s court, his movements precise despite the resistance of the water.
The King narrowed his eyes at the display. A couple of moments later, he spoke, his tone a bit softer. “Is this true, Amando?”
The prince bowed deep, his left hand over his right pectoral. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
The King leaned back, lacing his fingers together and resting his elbows on the arms of his throne. The back curled forward, shading his eyes from where Carter and Amando stood.
“Interesting.” He lifted his chin. “How did you manage to recover Conker’s Blade?”
Carter shrugged. “I asked for it, Your Majesty.”
“Did you now.” The King parted his hands, letting them fall outwards. “Yet again, you let me down, boy.” His voice was low as he shook his head.”
“But, Fath- um, Your Majesty.” Amando stepped forward.
“Silence.” The single word slammed into them like a wave.
Amando froze.
“Do you know why I assigned you the task of retrieving Conker’s Blade?”
The prince shook his head as his shoulders sagged.
“Did you even think about it, or was your only thought, as usual, how to get out of your duties?”
Carter shifted as he watched father berate son. ‘I want to speak to Amando’s defense, but I may make things worse.’ He watched Amando’s knuckles whiten as he clenched his fists. ‘Come on, man. Speak up. Don’t let him walk all over you. It’s just as important for a King to not cower as all the rules he’s been imposing on you.’
Amando raised his head. “No, Sire. My only thoughts were how to achieve your task without risking any of our people.”
The King grunted. “That is good, at least.”
‘Kellün’s balls, man. Did that actually cause you pain?’ Carter took a deep breath as he watched the interplay. ‘While it is irritating Amando was willing to risk my life, it also makes sense to not want to put his subjects in danger. Pretty shrewd, too.’
The Mer King sighed. “Alas, that is not enough.” He shook his head, long hair swirling through the water. “I’m not sure it would be wise to leave the Kingdom in your hands.”
Amando stiffened. “What?” His voice was low, hard. “How can this be, Your Highness?”
Carter noticed the bared teeth, and flinty eyes. ‘He’s pissed. I wonder how he’s going to handle things?’
The King rose from his seat and trod down the stairs of the dais, hitting each step with an almost audible thump. He stopped near his son and rested his hand on his shoulder. “Amando, I know this displeases you, but I present you with an opportunity.”
“Oh?” Though his jaw was clenched, the Prince kept his emotion from his tone, sounding curious only.
“I’ll give you a tidal surge to prove me wrong. If you can, I will step down with gladness in my heart.”
Carter’s eyes widened. ‘Step down? What? Does that mean what I think it does?’ He blinked. ‘What is a tidal surge?’
The King leaned in. “Fail me again, however, and I’ll banish you to the Leviathan Depths myself.”
Amando gave his father an incredulous stare as he stumbled back. He squeezed his eyes shut as the King strode out of the throne room, the water swirling around him and leaving the men in a cold, suffocating calm.
Time felt it slowed for Carter as he watched his friend. ‘That sounded ominous.’ He tugged at his cuirass and cleared his throat. “Um…” He paused. “That…” He paused again. ‘What do I even say to that?’
“Was an ultimatum. And an unfair one.” Amando’s voice was hollow. He opened his eyes and gazed at Carter. “By the Leviathan, how am I supposed to prove him wrong without a task? Especially in that timeframe.” His chest heaved, as if the ocean no longer caressed, but crushed him with its weight.
“Timeframe?” Carter rubbed the back of his neck. “What timeframe?”
“A tidal surge.” Amando chuckled. “Didn’t you hear the King?”
Carter spun his hand, feeling the water resist the motion. “That’s a time frame? How long?”
“Oh, right.” Amando smacked his forehead, making his hair swirl around his head. “You’re not familiar with how we calculate time down here.” He cupped his chin. “Um…” He flicked his index finger as if counting. “Forty-five days as you land dwellers mark it.”
“That’s not much time.”
“No.”
The Walker thought for a couple of heartbeats. “What are the Leviathan Depths?”
Amando’s face fell and he paced before his father’s throne. “It…It’s a cold place. Not a cold like you may have experienced on the surface, but a bone-chilling, soul crushing place. Legend holds the Leviathan itself dwells there.” He paused and turned a pallid face to Carter, lips and chin quivering. “No Mer has ever returned from there.” He swallowed hard. “My father didn’t just threaten to take my inheritance, or to banish me.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “He promised condemnation to eradication.”
Carter stroked his beard. “What is the Leviathan?”
Amando shrugged. “What we know comes from legends. Some say it is reptilian in nature, others claim it is a colossal crab.” He sat on the stairs of the dais. “We don’t even know if it comes from Darfellan, or his ex-wife, Echinoloth.”
‘If I remember Gods and Goddesses correctly, he’s the god of the ocean and seas while she is the goddess of storms.’ Carter pressed his palms together and rubbed his index fingers against each other. ‘I wish I’d bought that BattleHammer supplement when I’d seen it at the Inner Harbor back home.’
Amando continued. “The god of the ocean is a temperamental deity, but so is the goddess of tempests.” He snorted. “Could belong to either, or neither.”
“If none have seen it, why are you so afraid of it?”
The prince shook his head. “I’m not afraid of the mythical Leviathan. I’m terrified of the real location said to be its home.” He rose to his feet. “That’s a big difference.”
“Fair enough.” Carter nodded his head. “What do you want to do?”
Amando rubbed his forehead before running his fingers through his red hair. He took a deep breath. “I have no idea how to achieve a nebulous task, so I think I should continue my arrangement.” He draped his arm over Carter’s shoulders. “Let’s go see if your wife needs any more help.”