jackal-among-snakes-16091326
chapter-466

Mozzahr walked through one of the portals at the end of the gateway. The king had used this vault like he knew it well, leading him about by the nose with dragons and titans acting as his obstacles. It led him to doubt if the king was truly an intruder in this place. On the other hand, the lives of the animals lost in that bizarre compound were no mere trivialities. They’d likely been collected over millennia, as the last time Mozzahr had seen record of many was in the times before the dwarves had gone deeper underground and abandoned all those comprising the Ebon Cult of today.

Beyond, he saw a vast museum spread out before him, and began to finally understand why this place was a vault. But when he looked to see what the displays held, he saw they’d been broken and raided already. He knew, then, that he was hot on the trail. But he needn’t deduce that by circumstantial evidence. Instead, he saw the golden-armored knight standing there. The impotent red-haired woman stood near him, practically sheltering in his shadow.

“I’m here to break your tide,” the knight declared.

Mozzahr looked at the injury he’d caused to the man. There was a skull-wrought shield strapped to his arm, hiding the injury.

“Did your king leave you two to die?” Mozzahr questioned, stepping forward. He intended to cut off this man’s legs, then interrogate him thoroughly.

“No.” Despite facing Mozzahr alone, the knight’s voice was unwavering. “I told His Majesty I would break your tide. He told me to come ashore if the tide was too strong—an order I intend on heeding.”

Mozzahr laughed. “Such a quaint way of speaking. Ashore. So… he’s nearby, then.”

“Not your concern. I am Prince Orion. Face me,” he stepped forward, forcing the red-haired woman to follow in fear. She had a new sword. It looked to be an executioner’s sword, made of black carapace and lacking a sharp point.

Mozzahr had no patience for talk, and so he merely called upon his Emptiness. He cast a simple spell—[Wind Spear]—and imbued it with his power. It shot forth with speed that could be likened to the divine. The red-headed woman created a portal, but Mozzahr had been expecting this trick again. He located where she’d directed it, then side-stepped his own attack. He saw the opening shrink and close, but he stepped through before it could. Once on the other side, he knew by instinct where his foes were. He gathered power in his fist and then punched.

His fist hit something hard, and Mozzahr thought this might be the end of them. Instead, Prince Orion stood there, feet braced firmly. He held the skull-faced shield up, then put tremendous power behind and pushed Mozzahr back a few feet. It took all of his effort… but he had succeeded. Mozzahr shook his hand, feeling some soreness after that punch.

“His Majesty is not foolish,” Orion said. “Nor would he demand others die for him. Melanie,” he commanded the one with him.

The red-haired woman swung her blade, creating a portal. Her moves were faster, stronger—the blade must’ve been empowering her, and she made yet another portal through space. He felt a slight pain at his back. It felt like nothing more than a thin stick striking him, but even still, she moved fast enough that Mozzahr could not again retaliate.

Mozzahr put some distance between himself and his opponents, realizing that the things within this vault might’ve been empowering them enough to pose something of a threat. He used no magic, merely calling dozens of tendrils of his Emptiness to strike them from a distance.

In response, Melanie created a large portal, and the two of them fled into it quickly. His power chased them through it, and he heard a great rumble as it struck something elsewhere. Mozzahr’s head jerked to the spot, and he proceeded toward where he’d heard it hit cautiously. Expecting a trap, he watched the surroundings closely, and when he spotted a weapon that Argrave’s party had not stolen, seized it. It was a sword made of bone, and looked to be a set piece with Orion’s shield. He felt its power surging through him. They intended to use these powerful artifacts against him… but he could do the same.

“A weapon, imagine that,” Mozzahr heard a voice, and looked around in confusion. It wasn’t familiar to him. “Swords were invented to cure the weakness of the fist. You’re learning,” he praised sarcastically.

As it spoke further, he realized the voice came from within. “Who speaks?” Mozzahr demanded. “Make yourself known.”

“No need for purging,” the voice continued. “I am Erlebnis’ Keeper. If you’d read any of those books in the Annals, we might’ve met face-to-face… but here in this vault, I can make myself known as you wish.”

Mozzahr prepared to run his Emptiness through his mind and purge the foreign presence, but its next words brought him pause.

“I can help you follow them.”

Even as Mozzahr listened he thought this ‘Keeper’ was distracting from that goal. “How? Why?” Mozzahr asked simply.

“How? My eyes are a little bit… everywhere. I am Erlebnis’ Keeper—didn’t I mention that?” he said smoothly. “Argrave picked up on the principle of weaponry over brute strength a little quicker than you. That shield you knocked with your knuckles... these weapons were crafted by gods, using their own flesh and blood to imbue them with unimaginable power. With them, they can escape you. Orion handled a blow from you—not your strongest, perhaps, but can you say your strongest would break that shield? And you must wonder why that pretty girl swings her blade when her attacks do nothing. I can tell you why. Every time it hits a foe, the point on its tip grows sharper. At its pinnacle, she can unleash a devastating stab powerful enough to pierce even yourflesh.”

Mozzahr listened carefully, letting the Keeper speak. He could not notice it interfering with his thought process through some magic, and so allowed the being to continue.

“As for why I’d help… as a Keeper, I dislike being kept. And as I said, I am Erlebnis’. All I ask is for freedom. In return, I can help you spot and adapt to any traps they’ll set, and illuminate any places they’ll flee.”

“Freedom?” Mozzahr repeated.

“Indeed. A very beautiful word to a rat in a cage. Erlebnis often experiments on rats, but I find myself the unlucky one, who remains unprodded and unpoked,” the Keeper said. “Speaking of him, he’s not typically this absent. He’s a businessman, through and through, and that business recently concluded. The owner of this vault is coming back, meaning you’re rather like that sword—boned. Unless, of course, you promise to help me. I scratch your back, help you kill a few people… then, you can free me. Have we a deal?”

“Fine. I’ll free you,” Mozzahr promised. Words were cheap, he knew, and time was wasting.

“Very good,” the Keeper said in a purr.

“No babbling. Talk,” Mozzahr prompted him.

“As you wish,” the Keeper conceded. “They seek a… cellmate, shall we say, of mine. Her name is Hause. I intend to help both you and them, leading the two of you straight to her. From there, you two can… work things out. Whatever outcome, I’ll be free.”

Mozzahr felt a swelling inside his chest. He was near certain he’d finally found something that might even the playing field between him and Argrave. Once, he’d thought he’d had the upper hand… but it seemed that had never been the case. He was looking forward to an even fight.

“Lead me to them now,” Mozzahr insisted. “Or I will renege. An invader of the mind cannot be trusted.”

“I’m no mind invader. Your thoughts remain your own, elsewise you’d not need to say a word aloud… but fine. Listen closely—they’re moving quickly, heading east at present…”