“What exactly are halimaw?” Ceren asked as they crept up the steep, narrow trail.
“Abominations spawned by the shadeleeches’ power,” Harafin replied. “By sacrificing a sentinel, they can merge the life force of the victim with that of a bear. The result is a horrific monster immune to magic and very hard to kill.”
“I’ve never heard of them,” Ceren said with a shudder.
“Few have seen them. Since only a sentinel can be sacrificed to create one, they are very rare.”
“Tanathos has captured two more sentinels,” Leander pointed out.
“Let us pray he does not have the opportunity to use their souls before we catch him,” Harafin said. “One halimaw will prove difficult enough. Three would be. . .challenging.”
With those grim words hanging in the air, they focused on the perilous trail up the steep side of the cliff. It was not as sheer as the spot where Kevlin had climbed, but still proved difficult. The laboring horses were soon lathered with sweat.
As they rose high above the forest, Jerrik glanced over the edge, then clutched the saddle with eyes closed tight. “Ukko’s beard, Kevlin, I can’t believe you climbed that with no trail. It would’ve killed me.”
“I don’t think I could do it again.” Kevlin's hands ached just thinking about it.
Reaching the top without incident, they pushed through the waning afternoon light. When it grew too dark to see, Harafin lit the path ahead and they covered a couple more miles before finally halting in a glade beside a small stream.
After helping hobble and water the horses, Kevlin came across Gabral and Ceren conversing near the edge of the firelight.
“Of course, my lady,” Gabral was saying. “I have everything you need.”
“Thank you,” she said and placed a hand on his arm.
Kevlin withdrew and returned to the fire. He shouldn’t be surprised that Ceren would warm to Gabral. They were both noble born, but the sight of her hand on Gabral’s arm stirred unexpected irritation. He had thought she had better taste.
She didn’t join them for the evening meal, but Kevlin wasn’t about to ask where she was.
After the meal, Harafin gestured to the single makrasha they’d captured at the fort, which hovered nearby in a magical cage. “Let us see if our prisoner has any insight into Tanathos’ plan.”
“I thought you already interrogated it at the fort,” Drystan remarked, glancing up from sharpening his spear with a stone.
“We did, but these creatures’ minds are rather shallow, so you need to know which questions to ask. We now have a better idea what its master is planning.”
Harafin motioned with his hand, and the captive makrasha floated closer in its magic cage.
Kevlin shuddered. “It’s amazing the disgusting creatures can even talk.”
“It is one of the few human characteristics that the Sigrun have not yet eradicated,” Harafin said.
“They were once men?”
“Yes. The makrasha are spawned by the dark powers of the Sigrun. They are the creation of Nyyrikki, one of the twin leaders of the Sigrun.”
“I never knew,” said Gabral. “How is it possible?”
Harafin surveyed the company. “It’s startling sometimes to see how much has been forgotten. During the first years of their uprising, the Sigrun were desperate to increase control over whatever parts of the nation they overthrew. They started sending captives home with broken minds.”
“Wouldn’t that just make people more determined to keep fighting?” asked Gabral.
“Those men were not innocent victims, but murderers. The Sigrun broke their minds and sent them home to kill. They would murder their own families and neighbors.”
“That’s horrible,” said Drystan.
“Yes, and unbelievably effective. Terror undermined entire sections of the nation.”
“How did that generate makrasha?” Kevlin asked.
“It did not until they captured a sentinel. His name was Mokosoh, and he was a close friend of mine. He was betrayed and captured by Nyyrikki.
“They had never captured a sentinel before, and Mokosoh was saved especially for Nyyrikki’s sport. We all knew each other in the days prior to the uprising. The pair of them had disliked each other even as students. Mokosoh was a powerful sentinel with a brilliant mind, but he had an unreasoning fear of spiders."
“Well aware of that fear, Nyyrikki devised a cruel torture. Mokosoh was forced to stand naked while hundreds of poisonous spiders crawled over him, biting him, and eventually driving him mad."
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"He could not even scream for fear of the insects crawling into his mouth. When he could bear it no longer, Nyyrikki drove the spiders into Mokosoh’s flesh, combining their life essences with his.
“The result was unprecedented. Unbeknownst to sentinels at that time, there is a similarity between the most basic elements of arachnids and humans."
"With the dark magic as catalyst, tiny pieces of those hundreds of spiders were embedded into the very core of what made Mokosoh a man. That changed him, twisting and mutilating him beyond humanity, making him into something the world had never known before.
“Makrasha.”
The popping of the fire sounded loud in the otherwise silent clearing as everyone stared with fresh horror at the creature floating in its glowing prison.
Gesturing at their prisoner, Harafin continued. “The makrasha proved so successful that it quickly became the favorite punishment for anyone who dared oppose the Sigrun. The fear of being mutilated into something inhuman forced entire regions to surrender."
"It was not long before the fighting prowess of the makrasha became clear, and the Sigrun started tithing the population for men to mutilate into those perfect fighting creatures. The Sigrun have used them ever since as the core of their armies.”
Harafin shook his head sadly. “Mokosoh was the first, and there was never another to equal him. Those makrasha formed from sentinels have an innate resistance to magic, which makes them exceptionally deadly. They were used as the personal guard of the Sigrun, and to assassinate other sentinels. That is the service Nyyrikki forced on Mokosoh. As such, Nyyrikki was able to enjoy daily the victory over one of his oldest enemies.”
He continued softly, his voice clear in the deep silence. “Even when he died, Mokosoh never regained his mind. He never understood who he was, or realized what had happened to him. It was probably for the best.”
“How do you know that?” Kevlin asked.
“I killed him.”
“I thought you said he was resistant to magic?”
“He was. By the most ironic twist of fate, it was his final sacrifice that allowed Nyyrikki to escape from me.”
“He will not escape the next time you meet,” Leander declared.
“No, he will not.” Harafin studied them all. “These creatures are living testimony to the cruelty and evil of the men who are their masters. There can be no peace with the Sigrun. Now, let us find out if it knows anything useful.”
Harafin raised his hand, and the glowing nimbus surrounding the prisoner’s body slowly sank away from its head.
The makrasha came awake and struggled to free itself, snapping its deadly jaws at the air. “Release me,” it hollered. Its flat, insect-like eyes roved over the company, showing no fear.
Harafin raised his hand again, drawing the prisoner’s eyes. “I want you to relax. I am seeking Truth.”
The creature’s snarling died away as Harafin’s hand began to glow faintly white. Its head settled low on its short, powerful neck.
Kevlin shuddered and looked away. The sight of the monster helpless in Harafin’s power stirred boyhood memories of Kevlin’s own torture under the influence of Truth. He breathed slowly to suppress them. It took a moment, but he had a lot of practice not remembering.
“Why does your master ride north?” Harafin asked.
The creature spoke in a broken, harsh voice. “Know nothing. Obey. Kill.”
“Did you see them ride north?”
The creature threw back its head and screamed.
“Beware,” shouted Leander.
Before Harafin could seal up the creature’s prison, it looked straight at him, its eyes filled with the same empty blackness that had possessed Merab. Then it howled again.
Harafin staggered back a couple of steps as if struck by a powerful blow. “Cover its eyes!”
Kevlin leaped at the beast thrashing inside its prison. He hoped the magical bonds would hold.
It turned toward him, its face contorted into a mask of hatred. “You will know my vengeance.”
It spoke with Tanathos’ voice.
“Unless I get you first.” Kevlin slammed his hand across its insect-like eyes, hoping Tanathos was sharing its senses.
The amulet hanging around Kevlin’s neck grew hot. At the same time, he felt the beast’s features begin to shrink under his hand as its life drained away. The flesh melted under his touch, and the leathery skin blackened and cracked.
“Get out of the way, Kevlin,” yelled Harafin. “I need to restore the prison before it dies.”
He could not let go.
His hand remained stuck fast to the creature’s face. Without the amulet, Tanathos might have been able to suck his life away too. The horrific cruelty of what was happening filled him with a towering rage.
The energy captured by the amulet strained inside Kevlin, pushing to be released. Meanwhile, under his hand, the life being sucked out of the makrasha flowed to Tanathos like an invisible stream of power, linking the two of them together.
Kevlin envisioned the shadeleech in his mind and, focusing all the energy on that image, cried out, “Tanathos!”
The energy burned up into his hand and through the creature’s eyes. For a split second, Kevlin touched the conduit between Tanathos and the creature.
In his mind's eye he caught a glimpse of the shadeleech as power blasted through the makrasha toward its master. He could feel the searing pain and surprise it inflicted, and heard Tanathos scream. The connection severed.
Kevlin staggered back and immediately the magical prison sealed over the creature’s head. The beast looked smaller, its skin hanging loose over its skull, its ribs standing out against its shrunken chest.
“Is it still alive?” Kevlin asked.
“Barely.” Harafin dropped onto a seat by the fire. “What did you think you were doing? Why didn’t you get out of the way? You could have been killed.”
“I couldn’t let go. My hand was stuck to its face, and Tanathos was trying to attack me through the connection.”
“How did you break free?” Drystan asked.
“I’m not entirely sure. Through the amulet I was able to somehow refocus Tanathos’ attack back on him through the makrasha. I could feel him, and even saw him for a second.” He grinned. “I surprised him and hurt him too.”
Harafin regarded him with an unreadable expression. “Your instincts are very good, my young friend,” he said finally. “What you did involved very advanced magic.”
Kevlin laughed a little nervously. “I didn’t really do magic. I just used his own power against him to get him to stop.”
Harafin laughed, and Leander joined in.
“My dear boy,” Harafin said. “Using a shadeleech’s own magic against him, and attacking him through his own conduit of power, is a significant accomplishment. It should have taken you years of training. Trust me, my boy, you definitely did do magic.”
It seemed wrong that Harafin should be laughing so hard. It wasn’t dignified. Kevlin frowned, not wanting to think about wielding magic.
The soldiers around them were all staring. They hadn’t witnessed his fight with Wayra’s kestrels, nor had they known about the amulet. He should have held his tongue until he could speak with Harafin alone.
“Tanathos is close,” Kevlin said. “I could feel it.”
Gabral leaned forward. “How close?”
“It wasn’t exact, just a feeling, but he’s not far. I’m sure he could sense it too.”
“I am confident that he could,” said Harafin. “He was able to see through that creature’s eyes.”
“So he knows our numbers,” said Drystan.
“Yes. He knows we are chasing him.”
“He’ll run all the harder now,” observed Gabral.
“Have faith,” said Leander. “We will catch him.”
“Faith I leave to you. I’m looking for something a little more tangible.”
Leander only smiled.