He moved away, pausing to peer closely at Lyrna then Reva, just visible in the edges of Vaelin’s vision, as still as everyone else. “So well-made,” the Ally said, his gaze lingering on Reva. “Pity to spoil her, but this one will require a reward if she’s to continue as my dog.”
He moved away, going to the Empress, the only body in sight not frozen, though her movements were now confined to a faint twitching. The Ally went to his knees beside her, leaning back to press the ropes around his torso to the steel claws protruding from the hand of the dead ape. He grimaced with the effort, working himself up and down several times until the bonds gave away.
“Ahh,” the Ally breathed, standing upright and tossing Alturk’s ropes aside. “That’s better.” He flexed his arms for a brief moment then crouched to inspect the Empress, pursing his lips at the small glimmer still visible in her eye then grunting in satisfaction.
“I have often been called arrogant,” he said, looking up at Vaelin. “And I’ll admit to a certain reluctance in admitting failure. But, so many years of awareness have given me a new appreciation for humility. I did fail, of course, and Lionen tortured me to death for it. But it was the method rather than the intent that brought me down. The method was flawed. To attempt the slaughter of every Gifted in the world by myself, even with the ability to twist sufficiently malicious souls to my purpose, was all too great a task. But I had plenty of time to ponder a new approach.”
He bent to the sand and retrieved a fallen short sword before placing a foot under the Empress’s body and heaving her onto her back. “Why strive for the impossible?” he asked Vaelin. “When the endless greed of humanity can do it for me? It was to be the Volarians’ role, once moulded to suit my purpose. It never occurred to them why I always ensured there was never enough, no matter how many they bred in their pits, I simply gave my blessing to more of their nobility so they would always need more, compelled to expand, an empire crafted to conquer the world in search of gifted blood, driven by their hunger for eternal life. All come to nothing thanks to you and these others. The wolf’s doing, I suppose. Still, no matter.”
He raised the sword above his head and turned to the terraces, calling out in a strident voice, “Take heed of this! The old gods are risen in me! Great power runs in my veins! Behold my blessing!”
He moved closer to the Empress and pressed the blade of the sword to the flesh of his arm, the cut short but deep. He lowered the wound to the Empress’s face, letting the blood trickle onto her lips. At first she barely reacted, lips betraying only the slightest twitch, but soon her mouth opened wider, allowing the blood to flow into her throat as her back arched. The Ally moved away as she continued to convulse, tossing the sword aside and tearing a rag from his shirt to bind the wound.
“Since you took my empire away,” he said to Vaelin, teeth gritted around the rag as he pulled it tight, “we will make another.”
He moved closer, pausing at Lyrna’s side once more, her eyes darting about in her perfect face with frantic alarm. “She will be the Saviour Queen, come from across the ocean to deliver the Volarian people from the murderous reign of the Empress Elverah. And you”—he grinned at Vaelin—“her great and noble general. Think of the armies you will build together, the lands you will conquer. And in every land you seize you will seek out the Gifted.”
His grin evaporated as he moved to Vaelin, all pretence of humanity falling from his face, the sheer malice of this thing revealed in a tremulous snarl. “And you will sacrifice them to your new god. It may take decades, it may be that I will have you father sons on my puppet queen so they can continue the work. But in time every Gifted on this earth will be gone, and I can finally move on.”
He stepped closer still, voice dropped to a whisper. “The grey stones were the foundations of our greatness, receptacles of memory and wisdom, able to carry our thoughts across vast distances. With them we crafted an age of peace and wisdom, then we found the black stone and thought it another blessing. Oh the gifts it gave, my wife the power to heal, her brother the ability to pierce the mists of time. Such wondrous gifts, but not for me. For me it had a curse. Do you know what it is to live in a world of harmony, a world unmarred by greed, and possess true power? The power to command by a single touch, the power to force a man to murder. I didn’t want it, I wanted something better, something more. But the black stone only ever holds one gift, permits only one touch. For, as those who dug it from the earth discovered to their cost, touch it once and gain a gift, twice and you lose your soul.