Oh Jens, I think sadly. How long have you been dead? How long has this monster been inside your body?
“I lived in a tree once.” Enlilkian’s all congeniality in this moment. “It was a large tree with a trunk wider than a river. It reached into the very heavens, it was so magnificent. I was able to survey my domain with ease.” His eyes, beetle black and lifeless just moments before, flare with hatred. “It was destroyed by those not worthy to touch its bark, little Creator.” A thin finger juts out towards Karnach in the distance. “The last pieces I can find of it lie in that building there.”
Is this part of whatever game he thinks we’re playing? “Are you challenging me to find it?”
He slides a small smile my way. “Aren’t you curious about your gift?”
A quick glance behind him shows my father’s head lolling back and forth like a doll’s; blood dribbles from his ear and mouth. My stomach churns. Is he even conscious? “The only gift I want is for you to let my father go.”
This amuses Enlilkian. “Be careful what you ask for. You might just get it.”
Our dance continues: one step forward for me, one backward for him.
A low roar fills the air around us, winds whipping the leaves on the trees into a frenzy. Black dust clouds blanket the sky garden, blinding me. I lunge forward, desperate to grab him in this sudden storm, but within an instant, I’m flying through the air, landing hard on my ass, the wind knocked clean out of me.
Dreads seeps through my bones as I wonder: can he control the elements, too?
The air clears instantaneously; Enlilkian is only a few feet away. “You will move when I tell you to do so.” The black in his eyes eats away the remaining white. “That is, if you want those that you love to live out the next hour.”
My father and I are not close. Not by a long shot. Hell, we haven’t even spoken in over a year. But I cannot let him suffer in my name. I just can’t.
“I went to some trouble to obtain you this gift,” Enlilkian is saying, and I can’t help but stare as the white slowly emerges in his eyes once more. “You would do well to be more appreciative. Children?”
Oh gods. Earle, Nivedita, and Harou all snap to attention. They are Guards that, ironically, Jens had accused me of murdering and now that I am closer to them and take in their haggard, gray countenances, I can’t help but wonder if this is the truth. Because they are in just as bad a shape as Jens is. Which means ... oh gods. They’re dead, too. Possessed. He called them children.
Fear seizes up my nerves. Shit. This just got a thousand times worse.
Harou shakes my father until his head lolls backward. Dilated, glassy eyes stare up into the sky. But that’s not the worse thing of all—no, his shirt is soaked brick red near his kidneys.
“You have angered me with your insubordination, little Creator. With the disgusting things you are doing with one beneath you.”
He’s insane. What is he even talking about? I force the words out, even though they are barely voiced. “What disobedience?”
He always stays just out of grasp, far enough away that I would have to take several steps to even hope to hook a single thread of his clothes. “You and that aberration broke the bond I created for us, and that just won’t do. You sully yourself by continuing to consort with abominations.”
I stare at Jens’ body; gods, it’s rotting in slow motion. I never liked the man. In fact, I’d go as far as saying I’d loathed him. He’d been a thorn in my side, had accused me of ugly, unthinkable things, and yet ... I’d never wish this on him.
I’d never wish this on my worst enemy.
I clear my throat. Lick my lips. Calculate the feet between us. “What are you talking about? What bond?”
His head tilts to the side; there is a patch missing just under his right ear. It reminds me of a zombie television show Will likes to watch so much, where the bodies are disintegrating right before the viewers’ eyes. “The one that would have made things much easier on you during our journey.”
Is he talking about being in my head? “Sorry to disappoint.”
“Yes,” he agrees quietly, “I think in the end, you most certainly will be.”
My heart splutters uncontrollably. Desperate, I muster the atoms around to grab at the chair he made earlier and hurl it; if only I could distract him, knock him closer to me, just to get a single damn finger on him so that this would all be over with.
But the chair disappears without a sound.
He tsk-tsks. “Just look at you, little Creator. How the mighty have fallen. You are really nothing more than a pathetic little sow, aren’t you?”
A rock forms behind him; mere centimeters from his head, it explodes into thousands of tiny shavings that transform into harmless glitter.
“I thought perhaps you would be a worthy opponent ripe for what needs to be done. Except ...” He shakes his head slowly. “You are weak, little Creator.”