Rage of a Demon King (Serpentwar Book 3)

‘Cooperation between magicians and clerics is rare, but it has happened in the past,’ said Pug.

 

They stood in the courtyard of the Abbey of Ishap at Sarth, in the mountains north of Krondor. Pug had visited there occasionally, after having made the acquaintance of the present Abbot, who had been a simple priest then.

 

A moment later a grey-haired man about Pug’s height, and looking to be in his late seventies, moved briskly toward them. At his side a younger cleric, carrying a war hammer and bearing a shield upon his arm, approached. When the man got close enough to recognize Pug he called him by name.

 

‘Hello, Dominic. It’s been a very long time.’

 

The Abbot of Sarth nodded. ‘Nearly thirty years, I believe.’ Glancing at Pug’s three companions, he said, ‘I expect this isn’t a social visit.’ He turned to his companion. ‘Put away your weapons, Brother Michael. There is no threat.’

 

As the warrior priest walked away, Dominic said, ‘You’ve really injured his pride, Pug. You went through his protective wards as if they weren’t there.’

 

Pug smiled. ‘They weren’t. Tell him to put some below the libraries in the mountain. We came through the floor.’

 

Dominic smiled. ‘I’ll tell him. Would you care to join me for some refreshments and tell me what this is all about?’

 

Macros said, ‘We need your knowledge. Abbot. And we may not speak safely here.’

 

The Abbot said, ‘And you are . . . ?’

 

Pug said, ‘Dominic, this is Macros the Black.’

 

If Dominic was impressed by the name, he did not show it. ‘Your reputation precedes you.’

 

‘I am Nakor, and this is Miranda.’

 

Dominic bowed to the two of them. ‘This abbey may be the safest place in Midkemia - if we get those wards established under the library,’ he said with a slight smile.

 

Pug said, ‘For what we need to discuss, there is no safe place on Midkemia.’

 

‘Do you propose to take me to another world, as you did so many years ago?’

 

‘Exactly,’ said Pug. ‘Only this time you won’t be tortured.’

 

‘That’s a relief.’ He studied Pug. ‘You haven’t changed, but I have. I’m an old man, and I need a persuasive reason to leave this world at my age.’

 

Pug considered his reply. ‘We need to talk about your most precious secret.’

 

Instantly Dominic’s eyes narrowed. ‘If you’re fishing for something, I will not break my oath, so tell me what you know.’

 

Macros said, ‘We know the truth of the Seven-Pointed Star, and the Cross within it. We know the fifth star is dead, as is the sixth.’ Lowering his voice, he said, ‘And the seventh star is not dead.’

 

Dominic remained motionless for an instant, then turned to a nearby monk. ‘I will be going with these people. Tell Brother Gregory he is in charge as long as I’m absent. Tell him also to send the sealed chest in my study to the High Father at our temple in Rillanon.’ The monk bowed his head and hurried off to carry out the Abbot’s wishes.

 

‘Let us leave,’ said Dominic, and they formed a circle.

 

Pug said, ‘Macros, I have the power, but not the knowledge.’

 

Macros said, ‘I have both. Follow me.’

 

Suddenly they were gone, and around them a void could be sensed, rather than felt or seen.

 

Miranda’s thoughts came to Pug. ‘When I first entered the Hall of Worlds I asked Boldar Blood what happens when you step into the void.’

 

Pug’s thoughts returned out of the featureless grey. ‘This is the void between realities. Here nothing exists.’

 

‘There is something,’ came the thoughts of Macros. ‘There is no place in the universe without something residing within. It may not be apparent to those who pass through, but there are creatures that live within the void.’

 

‘Fascinating,’ came Nakor’s thoughts, and the word was tinged with excitement.

 

Suddenly they were in a star-filled night of pure black, encapsuled in a bubble of air, warmth, and gravity. Below them, swimming through the void, was a place Pug had never thought to visit again. The City Forever,’ he said.

 

‘What alien beauty,’ said Nakor. Pug glanced at the Isalani and saw his eyes wide with wonder.

 

‘It is that,’ said Pug.

 

The city spread out below in a twisted symmetry, one that sought to capture the eye, but somehow eluded it. Towers and minarets that looked too slender to support their own weight rose up against the vault of the City’s self-contained sky. Arches that could have soared miles above Krondor’s highest rooftop spanned the vast distance between buildings of alien design.

 

Downward they sped, yet they felt no sense of movement, save what they saw with their eyes. ‘Who built this place?’ asked Miranda.

 

‘No one,’ said Macros. ‘At least, no one within this reality.’

 

‘What do you mean, Father?’

 

Macros shrugged. This place was here when our universe came into being. Pug, Tomas, and I witnessed the birth of what we know as our reality. This place was already here.’

 

‘An artifact of an earlier reality?’ suggested Nakor.

 

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