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“Come.” He gestured to the two men nearest him. “Help me.”
They beamed as though he’d bestowed a great honor on them, shoving at the huge door the way they’d shoved the boulder, until it slowly opened inward, hinges creaking.
The interior was dark as a tomb, but when he stepped across the threshold, the glow surrounding his body lit up the interior. I heard gasps from the men closest to the open door.
The light source he carried within him penetrated to the far reaches of the temple, allowing a clear view of the interior. Enormous blocks of brilliant white stone carved with strange symbols lined the walls. The floor was paved with polished slabs of marble. High overhead, more interlocking marble slabs formed a vaulted ceiling, covering the natural rock of the cave.
There was no gold. No cask piled with armfuls of dazzling jewels. The chamber was completely empty – save for one thing. An enormous diamond, easily twenty times the size of the one hanging around my neck, lay on a simple stone altar in the middle of the temple.
As the Dark Lord went toward it, the facets of the stone picked up the glow around him. Sent it careening around the room, bouncing off the walls, the floor, the ceiling. A thousand brilliant red-gold rays shot out, crisscrossing in every direction, forming an intricate pattern, like a glowing web with the Lord of Darkness the giant spider at its center.
I thought I was well hidden in the recesses of the dark cavern but one of the light rays shot straight out the doorway and hit the diamond on my chest, honing in on it like an arrow piercing my heart. The Dark Lord’s eyes followed it. He let out an unearthly howl when he saw me, and his face changed.
For an instant I glimpsed the being behind the mask he’d created. The horrid, twisted demon. I saw where the reddish glow came from. The fires of the seventh hell burned inside him, where his heart would have been.
He pointed toward me. “It is the enemy! Destroy him!”
His followers forgot about the missing gold and jewels they’d been promised. They turned as one. Advanced on me with weapons drawn, their eyes dull and lifeless, as though contact with him had burned away their souls and left only the empty shells of men.
With a sword in each hand, I ran at them. Took them all on, my battle cry ringing off the stone walls. I thrust and parried, whirled and slashed. Men crumpled to the ground at my feet, falling without a sound. His followers stepped over the lifeless bodies of their comrades and kept on coming at me.
I sliced the head off the last one with a blow so hard it rolled away and came to rest at the Dark Lord’s feet. He picked it up by the hair, tossed it aside, and smiled at me.
“Magnus Markhan, Warrior of the Seven Stars. From the Prophecy. I’ve been expecting you.”
I gave him a mocking bow. “Really? I was unaware it mentioned me.”
“Your reputation precedes you. Besides, I am not bound by the constraints of time or space. A thousand years hence, you will be a legend. With the likes of Athos of Trelum and Darius the Giant.”
I felt a stab of pride at being included in their ranks. Athos was the greatest swordsman who ever lived, Darius the master of unarmed combat. Hundreds of years after his death, students still strove to master his famous Grimarian Maneuver. I’d fought alongside both of them.
“Yes, you did,” the Dark Lord said, though I hadn’t spoken aloud. “You learned from the best. Perfected the art of killing. Tell me, do the souls of your victims still haunt you at night? The innocents you slaughtered in the heat of battle?”
I tried not to react. He’d seized upon my darkest secret. My greatest shame.
“You call yourself a man of honor, Magnus. Yet you’ve taken lives without regard for whether they’d done wrong. Is it honorable to kill a man because he shows loyalty? Fights for his laird as you’ve fought for yours?”
His voice surrounded me. Deep and low, penetrating my defenses more surely than the sharpest blade. “Remember the young lad you murdered? The one defending his homeland? He gazed up at you, pleading for mercy, but you ran him through with your sword.”
I tried to tell myself it was a lucky guess. What warrior has not killed a younger man? But as he spoke, I saw the terrified face I could not erase from my memory. Heard the voice, not yet bearing the timbre of a grown man, pleading for his life. The nameless lad was one of the ghosts who plagued me the most.
He came toward me, one step at a time. Speaking words that seared my soul. “You call me evil. The Lord of Darkness. But deep down, are we any different? Every time you go into battle, you usurp the power of the gods. You become judge and executioner, deciding who will live and who will die by your hand. You say you live by a code of honor. Yet your past is as dark as mine. Your queen –ourqueen – deserves better.
“Listen to them, Magnus. The voices of those you slaughtered. Hear the truth – and then perform the most honorable act of your life. Wipe the slate clean that you may enter the afterlife with your honor intact. Listen to their voices then wield your sword one last time – and take your own life.”
All around me, shadows began rising up from the ground. First, the souls of those I’d just killed. Then others. Faces from my past, advancing toward me with their hands outstretched, just as they did in my nightmares. Except, this time, I was wide awake.
I heard their voices. Faint whispers at first, reminding me of the battle they fought me in. The way I’d killed them. They told of the wives and lovers left behind to grieve, the children who grew up never knowing a father’s love.
The voices grew louder, the faces more distinct as they drew nearer, cutting off my path to the temple. I looked into their eyes, frozen in pain and sorrow at the moment of death. I saw their fear. I felt their anguish. I heard their desperate pleas for mercy.
The Dark Lord stepped back through the bronze door into the chamber. His eyes glowed red with fire, and he smiled at me again as he reached for the sacred stone. I let out a wild cry. I had to get to him. Stop him before he seized it and claimed its power.
He gave no signal I could see, but suddenly my victims swarmed me. Their bony hands grasping, their voices rising in spine-tingling shrieks and moans. They grabbed me, pulling me down. Down to the Underworld. Into Chaos.
I raised my sword. Not to take my own life, but to defend myself from the onslaught. Then I let it fall. There was no use fighting.
You cannot kill the dead.
