Brian Kittrell - The Immortals of Myrdwyer

“This book scares you, doesn’t it?”

“You better well believe that it does.”

“What harm would a simple peek cause?”

“I’d rather not find out, Lae. I truly believe that it would be better if you didn’t, either.”

“Fine. You’re probably right. We’ll return it to Harridan and be done with this.”

“Wait,” Brice said. “Why must we bring it back at all?”

Laedron narrowed his eyes. “What are you suggesting?”

“I think I know what he’s suggesting.” Marac pointed at the tome. “He’s talking about smashing it. First reasonable thing he’s said all day.”

Laedron shook his head. “We can’t destroy it.”

“Can’t?”

“Mustn’t.” Laedron gazed at the tome. “We would be unable to fulfill our end of the bargain. We must return it to Harridan.”

“Must we? Could we not say that, in his rage, Kareth turned it to dust? Or it was broken in the fight to wrest it from his grasp?” Brice asked.

“You suggest lying to him? What is to be gained by that?”

Marac sighed. “Security for the rest of the living things in this world, Lae. The knowledge that the secrets written in those pages can never again be turned against the innocent. Using the spells in that book, Kareth created an army of crystal soldiers who can suck the very life from the living.”

“You don’t understand the Uxidin. They’ll protect it.”

“Protect it? As they did the first time it was stolen? If it were up to me, we’d destroy the thing here and now to ensure that no one could possess it. The mere existence of a thing like this troubles me.”

“I understand your concerns, but I don’t think they’ll let it happen a second time.”

“No? Think of what we’re talking about. What would some men pay-or do-to get a hold of such a thing? Everlasting life? Forging new lands in the middle of the ocean? Or worse, destruction on a scale we’ve never seen before? What would the Zyvdredi do with such a thing? Does that not bother you?”

“Of course it does, but-”

“And if Harridan ever decided to use it with ill intent, what would that mean for the rest of us? And for us who, here and now, have a chance to prevent that possibility? How would it weigh upon our minds, our souls, knowing that we gave it to him? Some things were never meant for the hands of men, Lae. I wish you could see that this Bloodmyr Tome is one of them.”

Laedron paced for a while, not knowing what to say or do. For some strange reason, perhaps out of a sense of loyalty or indebtedness to the Uxidin, he didn’t want to destroy the tome. Would Ismerelda want this? Would she have told me to return it to Harridan for her own sake, or would Marac’s words make an impact, causing her to smash the tome? It matters little.For she is dead, and the dead have little care as to whether the living join them.

“Well?”

“I’m thinking,” Laedron said, then recalled what Tavin had told him. ‘ Doubt is the true mage killer, and even an Azuran teacher would have told you that. Give up your meaningless morals, for they do not apply here. Have you heard nothing that I’ve said? You blind yourself with a lie perpetrated to control you. Set yourself free.’ He stared at the ceiling. Right and wrong… meaningless morals. The lies meant to control us. Set myself free.

Valyrie came close and took his hand. “The Uxidin had their chance, and if they were to return and rebuild their empire, we would see more suffering than what the Drakkars would have caused. Let us be done with this. The Uxidin, the Zyvdredi, and the madness must all end.”

“They’ll die without it, Val. How can we return and tell them that we’ve not done what we promised them we would do?”

“There are things worse than dying. You and I both know that.” Her face shone with a broad smile. “Living in a hole in the ground isn’t living, Lae. They, like everyone else who has ever lived, will have to make a new life, adapt to the way things are, and move on.”

“All right,” Laedron said with a sigh, then glanced at Brice. He’s said nothing this entire time… no matter. He’s not said anything to the contrary, so I assume he’ll agree with whatever we do. “We seem to be at a consensus.”

“That ought to do the job.” Marac took the great axe from its rack. “Stand back.”

When Marac raised the axe above his head, Laedron waved his hand. “No, no, wait!”

Marac stayed his blow, the axe still suspended in the air. “What is it now?”

“We haven’t considered an important part of the problem. Put it down and hear me out.”

Marac lowered the blade. “Okay, what?”

Laedron asked, “What will they do without the spell?”

“They’ll eventually die of natural causes, I would imagine. Same as everything else.”

Laedron shook his head. “If you had something your whole life, something important to you, and you lost that thing, what would you do, Marac?”

“Learn to get along without it? I don’t follow.”

“Let’s say that you had a golden watch from your youth and on into adulthood. Then, you lost that timepiece in a river and couldn’t find it again. What would likely be your next course of action?”

“Get another one?” Marac’s face contorted with confusion.

“Precisely.”

“I still don’t follow. What are you saying, Lae?” Valyrie asked.

“I’m saying that, without this spell to rejuvenate their bodies, to maintain their eternal lives, they might find other ways, whatever it takes, to replace what they’ve lost. They might fall into using the same methods as the Zyvdredi.”

Valyrie tilted her head. “They seemed to be rather strongly aligned against the way the Zyvdredi have done things. From what Harridan said, they abhorred the thought of stealing essences for their own uses.”

“An animal caged will do anything to escape.” Laedron crossed his arms. “With no other options available, the Uxidin might become what they hate if only to survive. Self-preservation is a strong instinct, after all, and we’re not speaking of people ignorant to the different ways by which they can avoid death. These people have lived with knowing that immortality can be achieved by magic for too long, I think, to simply give up on the idea.”

“If that’s the case, you recommend giving them the book? After all we’ve discussed?” Marac asked. “I thought you agreed that the artifact should be destroyed.”

“I do, but I think we should take those pages-the ones for their rejuvenation spell-and return them. The rest of it, we could-should-smash into a thousand pieces.”

Marac seemed to contemplate the choice. “Lae may be right. Harridan didn’t strike me as the type to just let go, and we cannot doubt his ruthlessness, considering that he was willing to sacrifice one of his own just to beat Kareth and get the tome back.”

“My thoughts exactly. Brice?” I wonder if he’s even been listening all this time.

“You’re probably right,” Brice said. “I felt a kind of desperation looking at those people hiding in the dark, a feeling like they’d do anything to get their lives back.”

Laedron turned to Valyrie. “You?”

“That may be the case, but how do we do it? Scratch it on a piece of paper?”

“I don’t think that will work. Harridan said that they require the original pages in order to cast the spell, for the pages themselves are an instrument for spell channeling.” He sighed, then returned to the tome. “I’ll have to find the spell, I suppose, then carefully cut out the pages.”

“You’ll have to look into the book for that, and that’s something that we all agreed would be a bad idea.” Valyrie tapped her cheek with her forefinger. “What if you wrote the name of the spell, and someone who can’t read the language were to find it in the book by matching the symbols?”