Lincoln

Chapter 4

4

Angling my body, I raise my fiery sword. Before me, Ghost Devak shudders, but doesn’t say another word.

“Last chance, Devak. Why does the Tithe wish to hunt Myla?”

Ghost Devak hunches over, his face twisted with pain. His gaze focuses on a point behind me. “I hear you, my master,” the minster says.

Ghost Devak is speaking to his master, but that’s not me. I quickly scan the hallway. There’s no sign of the Tithe, but that’s no surprise. According to legend, the Tithe only manifests to future effigies. Glad I’m not on the list.

Devak keeps his gaze locked on the point behind me. “I accept the change.”

While Ghost Devak speaks, I stay in battle stance, making no other move to attack. By saying he ‘accepts the change,’ it’s likely that Ghost Devak is about to transform into an effigy, which will be a far tougher opponent. Of course, I could attack his spirit-self before he makes the switch to stone, but that’s not the thrax way. Devak has a right to a fair fight.

And I wouldn’t mind some exercise myself. It’s hard to find decent opponents for battle.

Ghost Devak arcs his back in pain. For a moment, I see him.

The Tithe.

He is a dusty figure in a filthy toga. Sandals cover his feet. His grey hair sticks out at odd angles. Scruff lines his chin. In his left fist, the Tithe holds a chisel made of white crystal. A pale, luminous mallet is gripped in his right hand. A thin layer of fire and light encase both tools.

Magic.

The Tithe sets the chisel against Devak’s spectral chest. With a swoop of his right arm, the Tithe brings down the mallet, driving the chisel deep into the ghost’s body. A flash of white light bursts around the spirit. Tiny pale particles swirl in the brightness. The flare turns more bright, then vanishes altogether.

The spell is cast.

Devak’s spectral frame crouches to the ground. A moment later, bits of pale powder rise up from the earth to fill his translucent body. The white specks swirl throughout his ghostly form. Limbs, hair, eyes, tunic—every part of Devak fills with winding tendrils. The dry scent of plaster fills the air as more of Devak changes from translucent ghost into solid rock.

Moments later, Devak slowly rises to his full height once more. By the time he stands completely upright, the minister appears to be made from white marble.

It’s official. Devak is an effigy.

This new Effigy Devak appears young and fit, with broad shoulders and limbs that are heavily roped with muscle. He still wears his loose tunic, only now he holds a scimitar and small round shield. The minister’s gaze locks with mine.

“I’m sorry, my prince.”

Effigy Devak lunges for me, his scimitar angled toward my throat. I block the attack with my fiery long sword. The minister isn’t familiar with his new and heavier body, so his movements are jerky and slow. The edge of his blade barely comes within a few feet of my neck.

Out in the arena, the crowd roars, falls silent, and then roars again. That can only mean one thing. Myla’s fight has begun. That cheer means someone got in a good hit or two. My pulse speeds.

Who is winning—Myla or her opponent?

I kick Effigy Devak in his chest, sending him falling onto his back. The minister still find his bulky body hard to manage. As Effigy Devak struggles to stand up, I risk a quick glimpse into the arena.

What I see isn’t comforting.

A mountain of a human races for Myla, his hefty arms aiming for her throat. His rough cry echoes in from the Arena floor: “I choooooooke you!”

Alarm rattles through my nervous system. He wants to choke Myla? Not on my watch. Moving my baculum so I grip one in each hand, I prepare to transform my fiery long sword into a bow and arrow. Just the thing to shoot a few blazing missiles into that human’s back.

Unfortunately, Effigy Devak finally figures out how to stand once more. He rushes at me, his scimitar held high.

Myla will have to wait.

I ignite my baculum into a pair of short swords and block his attack. It’s quickly clear that speed remains Effigy Devak’s weakness. My blades connect with his shoulder and arm. Although Effigy Devak may be slow, his body is almost impermeable. I strike powerfully, yet all I do is send stone chips flying. As each hit connects, Effigy Devak doesn’t so much as flinch. Being made of rock, he seems to be beyond pain.

Even so, his stone body gives me an idea. I adjust the grip on my short-swords, ready for a new battle plan. When Effigy Devak next attacks, I block his strike with one of my short-swords. With the other blade, I hack into the growing chip along the minister’s shoulder. We continue this cycle.

Attack.

Counter strike.

Soon, there’s an inch-long line at the juncture between Effigy Devak’s shoulder and neck. A gentle popping sound fills the air.

Perfect.

Effigy Devak notices the pops as well. He steps backward, brushing his fingers along the break on his shoulder line. My opponent knows I’m up to something, he just doesn’t know what that might be.

Fortunately, I manage the stone mason’s guild, along with many others. Over the years, I’ve picked up a few tidbits of information.

I know exactly what will happen next.

While Effigy Devak checks his shoulder, I risk another look at the arena floor and grin. Myla got her massive opponent down onto his belly, and she’s used her tail to confine him. And by ‘confine,’ I mean Myla hogtied the human’s wrists and ankles behind his back.

Brilliant.

“I beeeeeat you,” she calls out.

My smile widens. This woman.

In my own battle, Effigy Devak lowers his hand from his shoulder. Clearly, the minister is giving up on figuring out my plan. Instead, Effigy Devak rushes at me again. Evidently, his idea is to wear me down with attack after attack. Not bad. Eventually, I should tire while Effigy Devak will remain stone. Then once that happens, all the minister needs is one good strike and it could all be over.

Only Effigy Devak doesn’t understand stone mason’s guild. Big miss.

This time, when Effigy Devak attacks, I allow him to press his blade closer to my neck.

Six inches.

Three inches.

Two.

All Effigy Devak’s concentration stays locked on the distance between his scimitar and my throat. What I do next only takes seconds, but each movement is crucial. Fast as a heartbeat, I extinguish my second short sword and setting the doused silver rod into the waistline of my jeans. After that, I pull my dagger from its holster on my thigh and jam the blade into the tiny break on Effigy Devak’s shoulder.

Now that blade has become a make-shift splitting wedge.

Using my unlit baculum as a hammer, I slam onto the dagger’s hilt, driving the weapon deep into Effigy Devak’s stone body.

The minister lurches back a few yards. More popping sounds fill the air. Effigy Devak stares at me, his all-white eyes wide with confusion.

“What’s happening?” he asks.

Honest questions deserve accurate replies, even in battle.

“The pops are internal breaks.” One might think rock would split with a loud boom. Not always. The strongest material can give out the tiniest noise before shattering.

Sure enough, long cracks fan out from Effigy Devak’s shoulder, spreading across his body.

“You’re lying,” says Effigy Devak. Raising his sword, the minister runs toward me once more. He doesn’t get more than a few steps before his body shatters. One moment, there’s a stone Effigy Devak. The next, a pile of white rocks line the ground. Perfect.

I nod once to myself, a decision made. I shall increase the wages for the stone mason’s guild. They earned it today.

One large rock rolls down from the top of the pile. Effigy Devak’s head. The minister’s eyes open and focus on me once more.

“The ultimate countdown has begun,” intones Effigy Devak. “I am number four. Three more after me, and we are done.”

“What do you mean?”

“I must now return to my master. Look for me again.”

Did he say to look for him? I’d rather the minister fully answer my questions for once. The pile of rubble trembles in place, including Effigy Devak’s head. After that, everything transforms into white particles that cascade into the ground.

Battle over.

With Effigy Devak out of the way, I can return my attention to what’s really important.

Namely, Myla Lewis.

Turning, I scan the arena once more. Sadly, Myla’s no longer visible. The Great Scala, Maxon Bane, has now appeared. I wonder if my girl has moved to another access passageway like mine. I’d like to think she’s still near, even I can’t see her directly.

Ah well, it gives me a chance to watch the Great Scala at work. Maxon Bane is the only being who can transfer souls to heaven and Earth. He’s also thrax, so my family keeps tabs on him. Not that there’s much to do. Maxon Bane’s had the same ghoul guards for eight hundred years now. They keep us informed on the Great Scala’s health as well as the fact that Maxon Bane also hates visitors. In fact, this is the first time I’ve seen Great Scala at all, let alone witness his work.

Maxon Bane summons igni, which are tiny lightning bolts of power that move souls. The small streaks of light whirl into a massive column that reaches into the ground. Seconds later, the igni’s brightness turns red. That can only mean one thing. The soul of Myla’s opponent is being sent to Hell.

Sounds about right.

The evil soul vanishes along with the igni column. More ceremony follows as the Great Scala departs the Arena. I try to focus on the details, but my thoughts keep returning to Effigy Devak. Only three more before the Tithe does … something? What? And why is Myla Lewis part of this plan? I’m not sure how long I stand there, but eventually my thoughts become broken up by a familiar sound.

Another ghoul portal is opening.

Soon Walker stands beside me again. Like always, he jumps into news without any greetings. “Minister Devak is dead. Your parents had to cut their trip short and request your immediate return. I’m here to offer transport.”

“And I’ll take you up on that offer. I’d like to see my parents. I’ve news of my own.”

Walker tilts his head. “Anything you want to share?”

“Can you tell me everything you know about Myla Lewis?”

“Regretfully, no.”

“I see.”

Walker doesn’t know it yet, but my friend will share his secrets about Myla. And I’ll solve this mystery of the Tithe as well. If it could threaten Myla, then one thing is certain.

I will track it down.