Victor of Tucson-Chapter 37Book 12: : Sacrifice

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Book 12: Chapter 37: Sacrifice

37 – Sacrifice

Tes approached the deep basalt stairwell, peering over the edge into the dimly lit recesses. She turned, leaning her back against the railing as she looked at Arona. “I’ll see to her revelation.”

The former Death Caster tilted her head, the porcelain-smooth skin around her eyes crinkling ever so slightly as she narrowed them. “Why?”

Tes stepped closer to the woman. Their eyes were almost on a level while Tes wore her human form, so it was easy to peer into them. After a moment’s consideration, she decided honesty was the best route with Arona; the woman was too clever and had spent too much of her life with liars. “Because I want her to feel alone with me. I want her to know that nobody will step in to save her if I decide she’s being duplicitous.”

“You’re still not satisfied?”

Tes shrugged. “I’d say I’m mostly satisfied, but I wouldn’t mind one more go at her.”

Arona stared at her for several seconds, then she nodded. “I’ll be in the command tower. Please let me and the others know the…result of your efforts.”

Smiling, Tes nodded, and then lithely leaped over the railing. The cool air of the stairwell rushed up around her as she plummeted, her skirts whipping to and fro, but never riding too high; that would be unladylike. As the polished marble floor at the bottom of the stairs rushed toward her, she slowed her fall and landed as lightly as a feather might.

She walked toward the guards standing watch outside the enormous doorway leading into the gate chamber. They’d been rather startled by her sudden appearance, but they masked it well, standing at attention, polearms tilted in respect for her status. What was her status? Visiting…friend of the commander? Wandering hero, present in the event of deadly dark lords? She smirked, but quickly modified the expression into a proper smile, curtseying delicately before the giant guards—they were steel seekers from Ruhn.

“I’ll need to speak to the…” She almost said prisoner, but that wasn’t very charitable, was it? “To Lady Citlalmina.”

“Of course, Lady Tes,” the guard on the left replied, reaching to pull open the twenty-foot door. When it was just slightly ajar, Tes passed through. Over her shoulder, she looked up at the guard and said, “You may close the door.”

“Of course.” The door’s well-oiled, amber-ore latch reverberated through the wide-open space satisfyingly as he complied.

Tes scanned the room—a space the size of a parade ground half a mile under the bedrock. The sheen of the marble floors reflected the glow of Energy lamps a hundred feet above, and on all that great expanse, only two things stood: a basalt portal archway, and a single chair upon which rested the strange, ancient titan, Citlalmina. Tes walked toward her, her keen dragon-eyes inspecting the enchantments woven into the seven amber-ore stakes that formed a pattern around the chair. They were intact.

“At last,” the woman said, her voice languid with drowsiness. “I don’t do well without distractions; my mind is unquiet.”

“I imagine it would be. How many years did you spend alone, did you say?” Tes had to look up to meet the woman’s gaze, even as she sat there in that massive chair.

“Too many to count, Lady Tes.” Citlalmina looked past her toward the closed doors. “Is Victor coming?”

“Lord Victor will not be joining us, no.” Tes walked around the binding circle, slowly increasing her size with each step. When she came back around and looked into the woman’s face again, her gaze was tilted down. “Explain to me again, will you, what you stand to gain by helping us against your long-time lover?”

Citlalmina clenched her fists and lurched to her feet, her powerful legs throwing the chair back. It passed through the circle without issue, but when she leaned forward, scowling, her perfectly straight, silken black hair rebounded off an invisible barrier as it swung toward Tes. “I was never his lover.”

Tes felt the raw emotion. One thing was certain; this woman was not lying about that. Unbothered by the outburst, she folded her arms, lifting one hand to stroke her chin. “Yet he brought you with him across countless star systems to this world, where he gave you the life of a queen—a goddess?”

“Against my will!”

“Do you intend to answer my question?”

“Question?” Citlalmina’s brows tented above her nose as her eyes unfocused, clearly replaying their conversation. “Oh. What do I have to gain? Freedom, Lady Tes—freedom and perhaps my sanity.”

The woman’s repeated mentions of her sanity bothered Tes on some level. In fact, words like those had made her suspicious to begin with. “I’ve never known a madwoman who so readily acknowledged her madness.”

“I…” Citlalmina stepped back, tension fading from her posture as she shrugged. “I have moments of lucidity. This is one of them. If you doubt me, then watch. In a week or a year, I’ll descend into one of my fugues. I’ve lost decades—centuries—to them.”

“And yet you want Victor to set you loose on a civilized world?”

“Set me loose? I’m not a rabid animal. Give me a small, quiet home with access to this vaunted civilization, and, with luck, I’ll find a way to live again.”

Tes watched her with narrowed eyes, unable to find a hint of duplicity in the woman’s voice. Slowly nodding, she wrapped her fingers around the closest formation stake and, with a surge of Energy and some prodding from her aura, ripped it out of the basalt foundation, tossing it aside with a clatter. The formation holding Citlalmina crackled with red-tinged lightning, and then it faded, the protective barrier broken.

“What are you doing?” the woman asked, stepping back, eyes wide.

“There’s no reason to bind you here,” Tes replied. “If your words are true, then you’ll not try to harm the people taking shelter in this citadel, correct?”

“Of…” She hesitated, her eyes darting to the distant corners of the great hall, then settling on the closed doors. “Of course. I came here willingly, did I not?”

Tes nodded. “And Victor secured you, not because he didn’t believe you, but because he knew he was susceptible to the kind of tale you wove. He’s a romantic, my Victor, but he’s learned some harsh lessons in his life.” Tes stepped closer, her eyes like blue diamonds as they stared into the woman’s honey-colored ones. “Besides, I’m here now, and I’ll keep you close to me.” She reached up, her delicate human fingers gone, replaced by blue-scaled ones tipped with black claws that could rend even the amber-ore gates behind her.

“D-don’t—” Citlalmina flinched back, but Tes was quick, and she snatched hold of her necklace, halting her, lest she break the chain.

“This is the device shielding you from Xelhuan’s prying eyes?”

The titan nodded, licking her lips. “He made it for me when he was in one of his better moods. I complained about his constant scrutiny, crying for my lost freedom and privacy. He made this necklace, imbuing it with his own power to hide me from himself. I believe he was trying to prove his love for me.” Citlalmina shrugged. “I never removed it.” She smiled, wiping at a tear. “I’ve been hiding ever since.”

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Earlier, when she’d sent Arona away, Tes had truly intended to increase the pressure—to intimidate this woman as much as she’d ever done to anyone. Something had changed her mind, however, and she supposed it was rooted in the one-on-one interchange; she’d been able to focus on Citlalmina without keeping track of the emotions and motivations of those around her—the last time they’d spoken, Victor had been present. Now, though, it was clear to her that if the ancient titan were orchestrating some sort of deception, she was ignorant of it. Her intentions were plain to read, written boldly on her spirit amid the torments of her long and tragic life.

“Very well, Citlalmina. Victor’s ready. It’s time to set things in motion.” She tugged on the necklace and almost broke it, but paused. “How long will it take him to notice you?”

“I believe he’ll sense me immediately.”

“He’ll know exactly where you are?”

“Yes. His net is wide—a web of his Energy that surrounds this entire world.”

Tes peered up at the basalt ceiling. “His senses are so acute?” 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

“Where I’m concerned, yes. Trust me, Lady Tes, his obsession is profound. My madness is a pale shadow of his.”

“Very well.” Tes pulled against the necklace and Citlalmina squeezed her eyes shut, wincing, but not against any pain. No, she was wincing in anticipation of Xelhuan’s attention. She yet believed that the “Great Master” and his undead kings would prevail. As the precious metal links began to stretch, about to burst, she paused and put her other hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Be brave, Citlalmina. Victor was born for battle.” Then she tugged the chain, and it snapped.

###

Victor stood on the hilltop, watching the distant pyramid with his veil walker’s senses. He looked for any sign that the ancient Death Caster was stirring, any sign that he could sense Citlalmina’s presence once again. The flows of Energy were steady, rivers of death that streamed into the pyramid, up through the peaked cap, and then out into the sky, going…elsewhere before, presumably, making its way back to the pyramid in one of those streams.

Victor knew that Xelhuan could probably fly in one way or another, and that at least one of his “apprentices” was adept at dimensional travel. With that in mind, he knew he’d need to reveal himself in some spectacular way to keep the Death Caster from leaving, rushing to recapture—or perhaps “rescue,” in his mind—his long-lost love. So, Victor gathered his Energy, preparing it for just the right moment. He watched, and he waited, and then, nearly an hour after he’d sent his message to Tes, it happened.

In his veil walker’s vision, he could see the muted Cores of Xelhuan’s thralls—a great sea of fading stars gathered around the base and on the slopes of that great pyramid. When Xelhuan emerged, though, it was like a star flaring to life at its peak—a blazing blue sun. It was a Core unlike any Victor had encountered, though he couldn’t be sure he’d ever seen another veil walker’s Core fully unshielded. He was sure that was what he saw: a veil walker so certain of his supremacy that he left his aura loose; he didn’t cloak his Core. It shone free and unhindered, a warning to any who might think to usurp his power.

That Core exploded into the sky—a rocket launching toward space—and Victor knew he had to act. Xelhuan was about to depart, about to travel with all haste to reclaim Citlalmina. So, Victor unleashed his spell, and he poured half his Energy into it—more than half a million points, as the System measured it. The surrounding countryside exploded with brilliant white-blue light as he claimed hundreds of square miles—in the heart of Xelhuan’s territory—as his domain.

Victor’s hope-attuned domain was a place of inspiration and confidence. No shadows could exist there—no fear, no doubt. The ground rippled with the force of his Energy as it washed outward, and silver-blue grass sprouted in its wake. Crystal trees erupted from the soil, stretching skyward with blue-veined, silvery leaves. They reminded Victor of the World Tree seedling at his citadel, and he wondered if his subconscious had modeled part of his hope domain after the feelings that tree inspired.

The air grew crisp, a cool breeze blew, and the miasma that lingered fell apart, destroyed by Victor’s Energy. Xelhuan’s brilliant Core descended, approaching Victor’s domain at a more cautious pace. Perhaps influenced by the Energy he’d unleased, Victor’s heart rate quickened with excitement; it had worked—he had the Death Caster’s attention.

He stood tall, Lifedrinker in his fists, and she vibrated with eagerness, softly crooning her lustful desires, “Please tell me a great war awaits, Battle-King. Tell me I’ll sup on blood and Energy. Tell me I’ll snap bones and wring forth cries for mercy.”

Victor squeezed her haft, nodding as he watched Xelhuan approach. “You’ll get your desire soon enough. Stay ready.”

He could feel the Death Caster, and just as he’d told Tes, it wasn’t like standing in the presence of the great masters of Sojourn—Vesavo was a shadow of this creature slowly descending toward him. This being was on another plane—not a World Breaker like Azforath, but something in between the primal titan and those like Ranish Dar. Victor’s heart thudded in his chest, a tingle of something he hadn’t felt in a long, long time tickling the nape of his neck—fear.

The fact that he could even contemplate that emotion inside his hope domain was enough to draw Victor’s lips back in a feral grin. He stared into his fear and smiled. Here was a challenge! Here was a fight worthy of his ancestors’ attention! When Xelhuan was half a mile distant, Victor let his veil walker’s senses fade to the background, and he watched the approach of his ancestor with his naked eyes.

Xelhuan was certainly a titan, though he lacked Victor’s robust frame—perhaps only two-thirds his height. Victor wondered if Xelhuan had stunted his bloodline’s development by becoming undead, for it was clear to him that the ancient Quinametzin had done so. His flesh was pale; his skull hairless. His eyes had grown huge with age or Death magic—great, angular orbs that glimmered with red-tinged light. So too had his ears stretched into batlike things—a fitting adornment to the wide, sharp-toothed maw that filled the lower half of the vampire’s face.

The Death Caster was clad in feather-adorned robes that left his arms bare, though they were covered in glittering golden bracelets from his wrists to his elbows and then again on his biceps. A great macuahuitl hung from his right hand, its two blades made from enormous, ebon shark-teeth, its haft the polished ivory of some primordial beast. It glimmered with crimson bloodlust, and Victor could feel its cruel spirit as Xelhuan drew near. Lifedrinker growled her eagerness, her need to match blades with the thing.

When Xelhuan settled down inside Victor’s domain, the ground around his feet blackened, and the air swirled with miasmic gases. It seemed he could resist Victor’s hope without much strain. He leaned on his macuahuitl, staring at Victor for several long seconds before he spoke, his strange, thick words audible for the briefest of instants before the System adjusted them into English. It was the first time Victor had ever seen the System react slowly, but he didn’t have time to wonder about it; Xelhuan was asking him a question.

“How strange to see one of my kin here—young, but fierce and eager. Yet here you stand at the very moment my lost love destroyed the gift I so foolishly bestowed. A ruse, then? Deception?” He snarled the last word, and his red eyes flared with crimson Energy. The full weight of his aura slammed into Victor, and he had a feeling that if he hadn’t been bolstered by his Core Domain, he might have stumbled before it.

It was a tidal wave of self-loathing, an endless ocean of tormented souls—judgment, pain, regret, horror, hate, deceit. That aura was the product of thousands of years of tormented dreams—memories turned into nightmares with myriad variations. Victor’s will was strained to its limits; a lesser being would have lost his mind under the pressure of Xelhuan’s caustic mental assault, but Victor pressed against it, leaning forward, his grin broadening as vessels burst in his behemoth-enhanced flesh.

Blood ran from his eyes, his nose, his ears, but still he grinned. He took a step toward Xelhuan, a low, rumbling growl in his chest. Perhaps it was that defiant movement, or perhaps it was the crazed joy—something akin to lust in Victor’s eyes—but Xelhuan’s aura retreated, and the ancient titan took a step back.

A moment’s silence, then Victor growled, “Your mother wants to move on, Xelhuan.”

He selected those words for maximum impact, and he wasn’t disappointed. The haughty anger flew from Xelhuan’s eyes as they widened in shock. Victor’s resistance to his aura and then the invocation of his mother seemed to have taken the shine off his self-confidence. He took another step back, even glancing over his shoulder as though Chantico herself might be there.

“Lies!” he screamed, exploding into the air, trailing sickly green vapors. He flew toward his pyramid, and Victor gave chase, leaping after the Death Caster, his magma wings erupting from his back. He held nothing back, pouring Energy into those wings, streaking like a comet through the sky after an impossibly fast, wind-blown shadow.

Victor couldn’t fathom that his ancestor might actually be fleeing. In his mind, the Death Caster was seeking more of an advantage by reclaiming the high ground—so to speak. He figured that if Xelhuan could reach his pyramid, he might have access to all manner of preparations and stores of power. Victor thought he could have caught him, too—eventually. The problem was that the pyramid wasn’t terribly distant, and it was apparent that the race was already lost.

The pyramid grew massive, looming before them, and like a sinking in his stomach, like a chill on his spine, Victor felt a shift in the ambient Energy. It wasn’t just his proximity to the mountain-like structure; something had begun—something had been triggered. He shifted his vision, focusing on his veil-walker’s senses and saw immediately what it was: the sea of low-tier Cores were coming apart, their Energy drifting, like wisps of smoky light…into the pyramid. Xelhuan was claiming the spirits of a million thralls.