Serpent Kings Saga (Omnibus Edition) Read online

  Ezekiah continued in prayer as he had been since Hudson’s departure. He had not expected for any particular thing to happen; only that he might unburden his heart and be drawn to a clear course of action. Instead, while staring at the wall, Ezekiah saw it fall away completely to reveal a green meadow full of yellow and purple flowers blown by the wind.

  In the distance, he saw several people running through the meadow; a picture of joy. As he drew closer in the vision, he saw a woman with two children running behind her. The vision brought him closer still. As the woman crested a low hill turning to face him, Ezekiah saw plainly that this was the woman who had three days ago tried to kill him at the base of the mountain.

  Ezekiah drew a deep breath. Was Elithias now showing him the past life of this woman; a vision of how she had lived before coming to kill him? He felt sorrow for her children. Their mother would not return to them.

  The woman ran past, in the vision, with her children following. A man ran after them, trying to keep up. Ezekiah strained to see him. Soon the man crested the hill, following the same path as the woman and her children.

  Ezekiah supposed that this must be the husband of the woman and the father of her children. He felt that it must be so. He wondered what could have taken this young woman away from her family with the purpose of coming to kill him at Thorn Mountain.

  As the vision drew him closer to the man, Ezekiah gasped. He was no longer breathing. The man who appeared in the vision—the husband of the woman and the father of her children—was him. Without any doubt Ezekiah knew that he was not looking at the past but was seeing the future.

  As the vision faded, leaving him in his room again, his mind shouted of the impossibility of what he had just witnessed. But his faith in Elithias assured him that all things are possible. With sudden clarity came direction. Ezekiah had already managed to run most of the way toward the main door of the castle without realizing.

  When he reached the gate, he was surprised by how many people had come to attend the funeral. Perhaps it was genuine respect for her bravery in the ruins, or perhaps it was only morbid curiosity. Either way, both the courtyard before the gate and beyond it was packed with people.

  Ezekiah passed through the gate and found Donavan and Tobias standing together near the pyre. The girl’s body had been laid out there. Her body had been dressed in the robes found within her pack. Even in death, Ezekiah noticed that she was beautiful.

  Hudson approached him then and nodded. “It’s time, my friend.”

  Ezekiah nodded with a smile and approached the body. Dry wood had been found and placed around the body. Ezekiah could smell the lamp oil saturating the pyre. A torch had been planted in the ground for Ezekiah when he was ready to ignite the wood. However, to everyone’s surprise, the prophet bypassed the torch and climbed up onto the stone table so that he was standing over the woman’s body.

  He looked into her face. But instead of a dead assassin, Ezekiah saw the joyous young woman running through the vision given unto him by Elithias. He smiled at her and then addressed the assembled crowd in a loud voice.

  “Brothers and sisters, I stand here today because of the mercy of Elithias and the quick thinking of young Tobias here,” Ezekiah said, indicating the boy standing near with Donavan. “As you know already, this woman was sent by the Serpent Kings to take my life. However, we have learned more than we might have expected through the refugees whom she traveled with to get here. While under attack by a swarm of death walkers—certainly one of the signs of Elithias’ soon coming—this young woman defended the lives of those Believers. Her companion was even killed in the process as they sought to save the life of one their children.”

  Ezekiah paused to let her deeds sink into the minds of those listening before he continued. “While her attempt on my life was the result of believing the lies of the Serpent Kings, her selfless bravery in that attack was another matter.”

  Ezekiah looked down at the woman again as her name came to his mind without warning. He had never heard it spoken by any of the refugees. He closed his eyes, giving silent thanks to Elithias. He knew what had to be done now. Turning again to the crowd, he continued.

  “I had thought that today we would all be gathered to this funeral to honor that courageous act before the body was returned to the dust. However, Elithias has shown me his will and now gives this sign unto you to signify that he will have mercy on those he will have mercy.”

  Ezekiah reached down to grasp one of the cold hands clasped upon her breast. Then in a loud voice he commanded, “In the name of Elithias, Gwen, arise!”

  Instantly her eyes fluttered, and then opened to gaze upon the prophet. But no one else realized what was happening until he tugged her hand. The dead woman sat up to look out upon the assembly. Terror struck the majority of the crowd almost instantly with many of the women fainting where they stood. Horrified cries resounded everywhere among the hundreds present, but Ezekiah ignored them all. He was too preoccupied, staring into the living face of the woman who had just four days earlier tried to kill him; the same woman whom the vision foretold to be the mother of his future children.

  AWAKE

  Until I heard his strong voice, I had been aware of nothing. One moment I had known that I was dying. My attempt at killing the prophet had failed miserably. Without the Gifts of Transcendence, I could not even carry out my charge. Darkness had swept over me, but just as quickly I heard Ezekiah’s voice calling to me—no—commanding me to rise.

  The darkness that had covered me was forced to flee like a cloud blown by a strong wind. I felt my body around me again, as though returning from a long journey to the comfort of my own familiar bed.

  My eyes looked for light and soon saw flashes of it. The same face that had watched me recede into death was the same face there to greet me upon my return. Ezekiah the Prophet stood next to my prone form, holding to my hand, urging me to come forth from the void.

  As I sat up, trying to recognize the place where I was, screaming erupted on every side. I looked out over hundreds of people who were terrified. I searched the sky, wondering if one of the dragons might be attacking. There was only the sun in the heavens looking down upon us. It took me a moment to realize that they were frightened of me. But when I looked back to the face of the prophet, I saw only kindness in his blue eyes. They offered me comfort and assurance like an anchor holding me fast.

  Looking over my body, I saw that my robes had been changed. There was no blood like I might have supposed. We were in a courtyard of stone; my body lying upon a stone table overlaid with wood. I realized it must be a funeral pyre. There was the smell of lamp oil all around. I looked at Ezekiah again with a new question on my lips. “My funeral?” I whispered.

  “Elithias has turned your funeral into a resurrection from the dead,” Ezekiah said. “He has a purpose for your life, Gwen.”

  “How did you know my name?” I asked.

  “Elithias has shown me many things today,” he replied.

  “You know that I was sent to kill you?”

  “I know,” he said. The smile never left his face. The kindness never left his eyes.

  I stammered, searching for more questions, but nothing came to mind. Around me the screaming was dying down. I could hear people crying; both men and women. I looked out into the crowd and recognized the boy who had been holding the gun earlier when I had been shot. He looked completely shocked by what had just happened. I knew I should be shocked as well, but I couldn’t manage it.

  I looked back to Ezekiah. He pulled gently on my hand, helping me to scoot off of the wood stacked for the pyre. I stood before him on the table of stone. “I don’t understand what’s happening,” I said.

  He looked aside for a moment. “I’m not sure I understand either,” he confessed. “I’m sure we will in time.”

  “But I’m not a Believer,” I said. I’m not quite sure why I admitted it. At this point, it was obvious. I had just tried to kill this man. Surely he already k
new. It just seemed like the thing to say. I didn’t want him to think that this miracle had actually made me something that I wasn’t. Then I realized it must be a miracle; something only a god could do.

  He looked at me then, his smile fading somewhat. “Only you can change what you believe,” he said. “I hope that will change as the truth is revealed to you.”

  The truth. That was what I wanted. His saying the word made me realize my hunger for it. My questions and my recent doubts all seemed to stem from this one desire to know what the truth was. My questions wanted answering. My doubts wanted reassurance. I looked into the deep pools of his eyes, searching. “You can give me truth?”

  He smiled at me again, as though my question brought him relief in some way. “Elithias can give you truth, but you must be willing to believe.”

  I didn’t answer him. I wasn’t sure what this so-called truth would reveal. All my life I had been taught not to trust those who called upon Elithias, whom they claimed had long ago made all things. I could see my gods. I had stood in the presence of Belial himself and felt the rumblings of his power for myself; had been terrified in his presence.

  Still, I could not explain how I had been shot and swallowed up by death only to be alive now and standing before Elithias’ prophet. Had a miracle really occurred, or had trickery been involved. Perhaps, I had only thought myself dead. Ezekiah’s men might have simply drugged me with some powerful concoction, making me think that I was dying. It would then be a simple matter to lay my unconscious form here on this pyre and seemingly bring me back to life.

  What about the horrified expressions on the people? Ah! If I had been fooled by this miracle, then the prophet could also fool his followers with the same illusion. The more I considered it the more sense it seemed to make. I was being used as a pawn by this charlatan. As my cynicism rose up within me, I thought of another question to ask.

  “Am I your prisoner?”

  Ezekiah looked at me with an expression bordering on bewilderment. Finally he managed to answer, “Should you be a prisoner? Considering what Elithias has done for you, surely you don’t mean harm to anyone here.”

  I let that supposition hang in the air. Did I mean him harm? He supposed, logically, that I couldn’t intend on killing him now that he had brought me back into life by the power of his god. But I didn’t believe that had been the case. In fact, realizing his ruse, I had every reason to take the life of this fraud.

  He was still holding my hand. I noticed his touch. There was something odd about the sensation. I had never been touched by a man in this way. As a priestess of Belial it was forbidden. Yet, I found something strangely pleasant about it. In my mind I knew I should pull away, but my flesh did not want to oblige my reason. Finally, though, I forced myself to let go.

  He seemed to sense my doubts about his kindness and what had taken place here. “If you really want the truth, you will have to allow me time to show you. You could kill me, I suppose, but would you regret not taking the time to at least find out if I have answers to your questions?”

  It felt like this man had a direct line to my thoughts. He had identified the battle raging within my mind. Should I kill him and risk never finding answers, or give him the benefit of the doubt? I decided the risk was not worth it. If I remained a little while then I could kill him later. My charge would still be fulfilled and I would return as a hero.

  I drew close to him as the crowd began to control themselves better. Many were still on their faces in prayer worshipping of their god. Ezekiah allowed me nearer. “I’ll give you some time, but be warned,” I said. “If I find that you’ve lied to me with all of this, I won’t hesitate to complete my mission.”

  Admittedly, his smile was the last response I expected from him. Fear possibly—apprehension definitely. But he only grinned at me, and then drew even closer to me. I almost felt embarrassed, ready to back away from him.

  “Then my fate truly is in the hands of Elithias,” he said. “I have nothing to fear in that.”

  I was completely perplexed by this man. I had never stood so close to a man marked for death. I had never met one who did not cower, in one way or another, from my presence. I could not understand how Ezekiah had such boldness—to stand before a wraith dancer with no fear, knowing that his life depended on my perception of what he would show me. Yet he seemed to have all the confidence in the world.

  I admit that something about him made me afraid. This man might hold answers that would change my life. I had been trained to deal with fear of death, but fear of a different life was something else entirely.

  RADA

  Ezekiah led me through the throng of Believers crowding the courtyards before and beyond the massive gate of the castle. Wide eyes and smiling faces greeted me on every hand. For them, a miracle of enormous proportion had just taken place before their eyes. Death had been defeated. An extinguished life had been rekindled on the very pyre that would have returned my body to the dust.

  But their view was through the eyes of faith. They did not see these events the way I did. They did not know the deal I had made with their prophet. If he failed to provide me with answers to my questions, his would be the next body to adorn a funeral pyre. And no supposed god would raise him.

  Following a winding course through the castle, Ezekiah had deposited me within the large kitchen beyond a cafeteria style dining room. “Rada?” he called.

  “What are we doing here?” I asked.

  “Getting you something to eat,” he said. “You haven’t eaten anything in four days, Gwen.”

  “Oh,” I replied, feeling a bit embarrassed. I had actually wondered, for a moment, if he expected me to work in their kitchen during my stay.

  A dark-haired woman, beginning to show some age, emerged from a hallway leading past two large cook stoves. Her hair contained streaks of gray and her face was weathered and darkly tanned. She smiled when she saw Ezekiah—most of these people seemed to. However, when she spotted me behind him her expression changed to one of cautious curiosity. “Yes, my lord?”

  “Rada, I was hoping you would fix our guest something hot to eat,” he said, then turned to me. “I have to get our people ready to move out. We have a journey to take that I think you might find very interesting.”

  “But you said, I would have answers to my questions,” I said.

  He patted me on the shoulder, a move that startled me a little. I didn’t show it.

  “You shall have answers,” he assured me. “However, Elithias has shown me that we must go to the Urtah Mountains. You will accompany us and we’ll speak of anything your heart desires along the way.”

  I may have been pouting, but he didn’t seem to mind. He smiled again, and then started out of the kitchen. “I’ll return for you in about an hour,” he said before disappearing out the door.

  The sharp crack of wood brought me back to the moment. Rada stood behind a chair she had pulled away from a small table near one of the walls. “Sit,” she commanded.

  I could see that any joy in her expression, while Ezekiah was present, had faded completely with his departure. She left the chair sitting out from the table, and then went to an icebox to remove several different wrapped food items. She kept her back to me, pulling down an iron skillet from a rack mounted to the ceiling.

  I sat at the small, wooden table feeling like a scolded child. A candle was burning in front of me inside a glass jar, besides the many lamps that filled the room with warm light. I stared at the flame, remembering my time within Belial’s temple praying unto my god. Questions began to fill my mind again.

  Why had I been sent here if Belial, as a god, knew that I would be in this situation? A test of faith? My head began to ache before I could even begin to dwell upon it.

  The banging of pots startled me again, and I put the question out of my thoughts. After all, Ezekiah had said there would be time enough for my questions. Part of me hoped he actually had real answers, while another part only wondered how long it wo
uld take me to expose the prophet as a fraud.

  The flame flickered and waved like a child trying to get the attention of his mother. I concentrated upon the candle, wondering if my ability to reach into the Gifts of Transcendence was still failing. Unclasping my hands, I reached toward the glass jar and the small flame within.

  I glanced at Rada. She still had her back to me, slicing up a piece of chicken along with some vegetables. I didn’t give much thought to what she might be preparing.

  I focused on the flame again, then reached out for the gifts, hoping beyond hope to find the deep well of power there again. I felt it suddenly like a wave washing over me. I opened my eyes as the flame leaped against the side of the jar trying to reach my waiting hands. Fire swirled around inside the candle jar seeking a way out. The wax turned molten and the wick was snuffed out.

  When the puff of white smoke rising out of the jar had dissipated, I saw a boy staring at me from the doorway. I recognized him as the same young man who had shot me with the gun. His stolid face had been one of the last things I remembered before darkness took me.

  His eyes were wide with horror. “What are you doing?” he asked.

  Startled, I said, “Nothing. The candle just burned out.”

  Rada was glaring at me, glancing between the boy and the candle jar. White smoke still rolled over its sides.

  “It’s true,” the boy said. “You’re really one of them?”

  “Tobias!” Rada scolded. “That’s none of your concern.”

  Tobias glanced at her, but remained undaunted. He slowly approached the table. I could sense fear in him, but he was doing his best not to show it. “You’re a wraith dancer?” he asked.

  Rada slammed a meat cleaver down across some vegetables, obviously trying to distract him from his curiosity, but he was having none of it. I nodded my head as she scraped the cut pieces into a pot. “You’re the boy that shot me, aren’t you?” I asked.