Alara Unbroken - Doug Beyer [38]
Before him, looking more like an insect to him than the warrior hero of his reputation, was the leonin Marisi, kneeling like a forgotten penitent.
“I didn’t expect your visit, Master,” said Marisi, bowing his head.
Despite the oppressive life of the plane, Bolas’s plans required such unpleasant stopovers. Once his plans were properly actualized, he would be able to summon his minions to his lair, fill their tiny brains with his orders, and fling them back across the aether. He longed for that day. Until then, he’d have to make the visits in person. Exhausting.
“It was necessary. I need to be elsewhere soon, so I’ll keep this short. The issue is this: I need more assurance of conflict from your world. The leonin of Naya already hate one another, thanks to your intervention years ago. But I want more. I want the elves,” said Bolas.
“You can’t have the elves,” said Marisi.
“This is not a negotiation. This is not a request. I need the elves.”
Marisi shook his furry little cat-head. “I’m sorry, Master, but it’s too late,” he said. “The convergence is too soon.”
Bolas lowered his brow. “Then you’ll have to act quickly, won’t you?”
“It’s not a matter of acting quickly or slowly. The elves have a deep history on Naya. They won’t be motivated to war so easily. They won’t believe any prophecy we could cook up in the time remaining, let alone my counsel. I am a hero to the nacatl, but to the elves, I’m just some cat-man.”
“Need I remind you of your advanced age? If you see fit to sever our agreement, I would be happy to let you face the depredation of time.”
“No … I—I’m sorry, Master. I appreciate your magics. But the elves—they’re more difficult than the nacatl. They trust only one thing.”
Bolas flicked his tongue against his teeth. “And what is that?”
“They call it Progenitus.”
“What is ‘Progenitus’?”
“It’s their supposed hydra god. They believe that it created the world, and that now it lives deep under Naya. Of course it’s legend, but it gives their dull lives some comfort. Elves live a long time. I think they need stories to occupy their minds.”
“Go on.”
“Well, nobody has ever seen this Progenitus, of course. But the elves depend on its ‘ judgment.’ They believe this elf girl, Mayael, can read secret signs extant in the natural world. The signs allow the girl to perceive the mind of Progenitus directly, and her pronouncements guide all of elvish society. But I doubt her authenticity. It’s just myth and superstition.”
Bolas sat back, finally comfortable in the heat.
“Not anymore, it isn’t.”
JUND
If you’re lying about this, I’ll kill you,” said Sarkhan. “You know that.”
Rakka grinned, her sharp black teeth meshing into one another. “If I were interested in your death, I’d have left you under a pile of rock.”
Sarkhan and Rakka rested on the top of a volcanic cliff overlooking the green, jungle-choked channels below. The stones were like cut glass. Sarkhan’s gloves were sliced through in a dozen places, and he wasn’t looking forward to examining his boots. They had taken a circuitous route up the mountain, avoiding cascades of lava that poured over outcroppings at regular intervals and fell hundreds of feet to red-hot pools. As they climbed they passed cooled lava tubes, many of which showed signs of habitation: simple tools, broken pottery. Who would live among dripping lava, up on the high cliffs where dragons flew? On every world he had seen, it was the same thing, thought Sarkhan. What cosmic crime had goblins committed that they occupied the worst point on the food chain everywhere he went?
As they climbed, Rakka’s feet caught the nooks in the volcanic cliff easily and regularly. She was more nimble than she looked. She was full of surprises, Sarkhan thought grimly.
“Don’t worry,” said Rakka. “You’ll see. You’ll be impressed. He’s just your type, trust me.”
“I didn’t come all the way to this place to be ambushed by more