Wrath of a Mad God ( The Darkwar, Book 3)

‘Goodbye, Nakor.’

 

 

‘You know what you must do?’

 

‘I do,’ said the massive youngster. With a grin as wide as Nakor’s he said, ‘I finally know what it is I am supposed to know.’ He looked down at his diminutive companion and asked, ‘And you know what you must do?’

 

‘Yes,’ said Nakor. He reached up and standing on tiptoes he put his hand over Bek’s eyes. The young man stood motionless for a moment, then his head jerked back as if he had been struck and he stood blinking for a moment. Then he smiled. ‘Thank you, little human,’ he said with obvious joy. He looked around. ‘I will protect this boy until the others get here.’

 

‘Good,’ said Nakor. ‘Fare you well, Ralan Bek.’

 

‘And fare you well, Nakor the Isalani.’

 

Nakor said, ‘Martuch, Hirea: guide the lad.’

 

‘Others?’ asked Pug.

 

‘You will see, soon enough,’ he said to Pug. To Magnus, Nakor said, ‘Come, the three of us have much to do and little time. Let us go to the Dark One’s pit.’

 

Magnus obliged and Pug and Nakor felt the sense of dislocation, almost a faint jerking feeling as they left one place and arrived at another. Suddenly the three of them were standing before the TeKarana’s throne on the observation platform witnessing a scene of madness beyond their experience.

 

Thousands of Dasati were falling from above, some bouncing off the rock-face, others falling directly into the burning sea of orange energy and green flame. Others landed on the bloated thing that was the Dark God and a few pitiful wretches were still living when they landed. One or another was picked up by the Dark One’s magic and carried screaming towards his massive maw. The featureless head was without distinction, yet the two burning red eyes regarded its next victim. While no mouth could be seen, the victim would vanish into the face of the Dark One, who would swallow the Dasati whole.

 

‘This is unnecessary,’ said Nakor. ‘The creature can suck life energy with a touch. The eating is… theatrics.’

 

‘Terror is a tool of the Dread,’ said Pug. Turning to look at Nakor, he said, ‘Why are we here? We may be noticed at any moment, and even the three of us can not best a thousand Deathpriests, or that thing in the pit if it reaches out to us.’

 

The gallery beyond where they stood and the rim of the pit above as well as a dozen openings at various levels of the cavern were thronged with Deathpriests and temple Deathknights.

 

‘We’re waiting,’ said Nakor. ‘We’re waiting for the Godkiller, and when he arrives, we must each carry out our appointed tasks.’

 

‘Nakor,’ asked Magnus softly, ‘what are you not saying?’

 

The little gambler sat. ‘I’m tired, Magnus. Your father has understood for quite a long time that I am not entirely what I seem, but he’s had the consummate good grace to let me play the fool when it served my purpose and not ask too many questions.’

 

‘You’ve always been a good friend and staunch ally,’ said Pug.

 

Nakor let out a sigh. ‘My time is almost over, here, and it is fitting that you should know the truth.’ He looked from Pug to Magnus. ‘You will inherit a burden from your father, and it is a heavy one, but I think you will be equal to that task. Now, I need a moment of time with your father, alone if you don’t mind.’

 

Magnus nodded and moved away to give them some privacy.

 

To Pug, Nakor said, ‘You must make good your promise and suffer your trials, my friend, but if you are resolute, all will come to pass as it must. You will, in the end, save our world and help restore a much-needed balance.’

 

Pug looked hard at Nakor. ‘Do you speak of—’

 

‘No one knows of your arrangement with the Death Goddess, Pug, except she and you.’

 

‘But you do,’ Pug whispered. ‘How is that possible? Even Miranda doesn’t know.’

 

‘Nor can she, or any other mortal,’ said Nakor.

 

‘Who are you?’ Pug asked.

 

‘That,’ said Nakor, ‘is a very long story.’ Then he grinned his familiar grin and said, ‘All in good time. Now we must wait.’ Looking over at the horrific scene in the heart of the pit, he said, ‘I hope our wait is short. This place is no fun.’

 

 

 

 

Men screamed in pain and shock as the Black Mount suddenly expanded in a single gigantic spasm. Where it had been half a mile away one moment, the next it loomed over the command centre, mere yards from Alenburga’s headquarters. Miranda managed to get a defensive shield up but it was already too late.

 

The screaming stopped as abruptly as it had started. The men who had been positioned before the commander’s observation point on the ground below the hill had, it appeared, been bisected by the arrival of the sphere. Blood and body parts rimmed the edge of the sphere.

 

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