“You must not tarry. Gather your leaders.”
The person who stood before me was not Khalim. Though his appearance had not changed—I had become accustomed to seeing the light of his magic shine from his eyes—it was clear that he had become someone else. He stood perfectly straight, a warrior’s posture. The voice that came from him was deep and booming. I had heard it earlier that day, when the lance of light had fallen from the sky and turned the assassin who meant to kill me into ash, and I had heard it once before, in the arena. It had stilled the crowd that had nearly overwhelmed Khalim, quieted them into order. I had been bewildered then; now, I was afraid.
“Khalim?” I asked.
“There’s no time,” said the stranger who looked like my beloved. “Go, now.”
I went to obey. The sooner I could complete the task given to me, I hoped, the sooner Khalim would return.
I found Jin and Reva at the edge of the gathering, their discussion cut short, and I found Aysulu hastily dressing. With their help, the rest of the disciples of the Dragon Temple, our companion Garvesh, and the lords of House Kaburh and House Darela and their children were brought to the command tent.
It was as clear to them as it had been to me that it was not Khalim who addressed them. They must have wondered what had happened, as I did. The mountain shuddered again, silencing any questions they might have had.
“The Ascended have begun their ritual,” the stranger said. “They became aware of my presence and acted foolishly. For now, they have control of the worm, but they will not maintain it. We must act.”
“That was the earthquake, then,” said Reva.
The stranger nodded.
“Who are you?” Lord Ihsad asked. It was somewhere between reverence and suspicion, a question for a powerful being who might have intended harm.
The stranger was taken aback, and a flicker of confusion crossed Khalim’s face. “My name has been lost,” he said at last, “given up as the price of my ascension. But I was once a mortal man, and millennia ago I drove back the demon horde that threatened to devour this world, and made it safe for mortal kind. When I left to seek the places between the planes and beyond imagination, I left the Ascended in my stead, giving them the power to guide my people and protect my kingdom.
“They have since lost their way,” he continued, “and so I have returned to set things right, and to make the world safe once more. Through my servant Khalim I have come back to the world. It was I who gave him his magic, and the guidance that led him here. It is through my will that you have endured your trials, and my power that will see you to victory, but you must act. You must obey.”
“It is you,” whispered Lord Ihsad. He sank slowly to his knees, and Jahan and Roshani followed. Lord Janek and Artyom knelt as well, as did Reva, and the Dragon Disciples gave a respectful bow—this was not their god, but he was divine nonetheless.
Aysulu bowed, a beat behind the others, looking up at me with a questioning glance. I had no answers for her. I watched, unable to move, waiting for the god to depart again and Khalim to return.
“Though your name has been lost,” Ihsad said, “we have kept your devotions. You have blessed us beyond words with your return.”
The stranger frowned, a look of annoyance that was almost Khalim’s crossing his face. “This is not the time for obeisance,” he said. “The battle is still to be fought. You must rally your men and march through the night. If we reach the city by dawn, we may yet have time to stop the Ascended.”
Reva rose and obeyed, slipping out of the tent. I heard her call out to the miners, giving them orders that they struggled to obey. I knew many were drunk, and a few were still injured.
Jahan drew the sword and offered it across both hands, holding it above his bowed head. “The Sword of Heaven is yours, my lord,” he said.
The stranger reached out and took it, giving it an easy, practiced swing. “This is a fragment of my power and my will, but it has been decided,” he said. He handed it back to Jahan hilt-first. “You are the one who shall wield it.”
Jahan took it and sheathed it once more. “Thank you, my lord.”
I had not questioned the Ascended’s choice to offer up the means of their own destruction as a prize in the tournament. Surely, I had thought, they had intended to grant it to their own champions, and thus wield it themselves. I would soon learn that all things would work according to the desires of this strange god, and there was little that we here below could do to alter the destiny he had set forth.
“Now go,” the stranger said. “But fear not. I will be with you.”
His light subsided, leaving the tent in darkness. No one had bothered to ignite a candle or a lantern. The god was gone. In his stead, pale and shaking, stood Khalim.
The nobles paid him no heed as they filed out of the tent around him. I, in turn, ignored them, and I went and wrapped him in my arms. His skin was cold to the touch, damp with sweat.
“You’re back,” I said.
He did not answer.
“We need to gather our things,” I told him. “Can you walk?”
Khalim nodded stiffly. He let me lead him by the hand out into the encampment and toward our tent near the stables.
“The doom of Phyreios is here,” Jahan was announcing to the men. “But do not be afraid—the First Hero has blessed us with his presence. I know you are tired, but we must save the city. We leave in one hour.”
The miners managed a cheer, and though they looked haggard from drink and exhaustion, the camp began to move.
Khalim was still and silent as I packed up our tent, rolling it carefully so as not to smudge the record we had drawn on its walls. He stared into the distance, unaware of what went on around him. I did not try to get him to speak.
Aysulu approached us, leading her horse. “What happened?” she asked quietly.
“I don’t know,” I said. “His god took him.”
There was another earthquake as we finished our preparations. Lights became visible, flickering angry and red, at the base of the mountain where the city stood. All told, one hundred and fifty of us could make the trek down to Phyreios. The rest were in no shape to march. Garvesh agreed to stay behind and send others as they recovered. If none of the rest of us returned, I guessed, our chest of winnings would be his.
Aysulu attached our bags to her saddle beside hers, leaving me with my axe and one hand free to keep hold of Khalim. He still did not speak, but he gripped my hand as though it were the only thing anchoring him to the world. His steps were slow and unheeding. He stumbled a few times in the dark.
We walked near the front of the silent column, making our way down to the plain by the paths that the Tribe of the Lion and Wolf had used to assault our fortification not even a day ago, though it seemed much longer. We were too exhausted to sing, too afraid of what was to come to speculate on it amongst ourselves. The only sound came from our footsteps and the crackling of our torches.
My fear took a different shape. I knew that I would soon face the full power of the Ascended in their city, but I could think only of when the next time would be that Khalim’s god might take him again. I watched him as we walked, looking for signs that he was still there.
I said his name, and his head came up with a gasp.
“Are you all right? What happened?” I asked.
“I don’t know.” He sounded distant. “It’s never happened before. I could see, and hear, but I couldn’t act.” He shuddered, and his fingers clenched around mine.
“This all will be finished soon,” I said, “one way or another. Perhaps, when it is over, he will leave.”
Khalim looked doubtful. “He’s been with me since I was a child—almost as long as I can remember. He’s never done anything like this.”
I could not imagine the fear and helplessness that came with another’s will controlling his body. I held his hand, pretending that it could prevent another invasion. “I’ll keep you safe,” I said. “I promise.”
I knew that I could do nothing.
The sun rose over the plain, pale light filtering over the red desert and turning the mountainside to soft blue. We marched wearily out from the trees and beheld the city.
Phyreios burned, exactly as Khalim had said it would. Smoke poured from the slums and rose in pillars from behind the walls, reaching up to the gray heavens. The sounds of shouting, and of terrified screams, pierced the morning. People ran from the gates into the open field, carrying what was left of their homes.
The mountain shook, and shook again. The worm was coming.
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