Page 95 of The Deathless One
This man was neither of those things, but he defied all reality by looking straight into Elric’s eyes.
“Ah, I see the confusion,” Callum said before gesturing to the mirrors covering the walls. “The runes. It’s not necessarily that I can see you very well, or even that I’m hearing your voice directly. But those runes reveal what is hidden, and with so many of them surrounding you, they bounce what they see and hear out into the room.”
How? This man wasn’t a witch, so how did he have his hands on such powerful magic?
Callum stepped a little farther into the room. “I might not be a witch myself, but I have met quite a few of them over the years. A little lie here and there convinces them that I have an indirect way to speak with their patrons. Convincing them to give me their magic was rather… easy. Hope, you see. It turns people into fools.”
Elric ignored the man, who was trying to goad him. Instead, he closed his eyes and set his awareness into the mirrors. Which one of these had been made by those who had once worshipped him?
“What are you doing?” Callum asked.
There it was. Only two mirrors had been created by his followers, but that was enough to make a statement. With only the slightest flex of his powers, he drew on their magic and sucked it back into himself.
With a harsh creak, the mirrors bulged, the image of Elric’s form warping before the glass suddenly exploded. Shards flew out into the room, scattering along the floor and striking the walls. Only a few pieces hit Callum, but his enraged shout was satisfaction enough.
A banging hand thundered on the door. “Boss? You all right?”
Callum glared at Elric, bleeding from multiple places. Though he had somehow shielded his face, which was a shame. Elric still watched with pleasure as the man pulled a long shard of glass out of the back of his right arm, a perfect strike. The piece glistened with bright red blood and something yellowing along the edges.
“I’m fine,” Callum growled. “The god in the room is just a little unruly, and hasn’t yet realized the situation he’s found himself in. But he will.”
To his credit, the Butcher of Grimoire Rise said nothing else. He just walked to the couches and took a seat, then waved an imperious hand toward the other couch as though Elric was simply an honored guest.
He had no intention of giving this man any energy in the slightest, so Elric stayed where he was, looming over the other man with a sneer on his face.
Callum tried to wait him out, but Elric was no trembling young girl. He was kind to Jessamine because she was his nightmare, and she was well and truly part of his soul now. But this man? To Callum Quen, Elric was the Deathless One. And he would be treated with the respect due to a god.
“I see you have no intention of speaking with me,” Callum finally said, leaning forward and bracing his elbows on his knees. “But you have to understand. I have been searching for you for a very long time.”
“I am a god,” he replied. “All you had to do was pray.”
“It’s not that easy, though. We both know that.”
“Isn’t it? A sacrifice here and there, the devotion of a truly loyal follower, these are basic asks. Your kind have forgotten that the gods used torule these kingdoms, and without us, you have fallen apart.” Elric spread his hands wide. “Plague, murder, mayhem. All of it came after my brethren were lost.”
Something dark flashed in Callum’s eyes. “So you don’t know, then?”
What?
He tried not to let his confusion show, because he sensed this was a pivotal moment. If he played his cards right, it would seem like he knew far more than he did. “A magical malady isn’t that hard to see, and it’s certainly easy enough to follow back to its source. You have not discovered a weakness of mine, merely that you are incapable of believing that a god could know so much.”
“Then you know why I’ve been searching for you.”
Elric could puzzle it out. If the Butcher was looking for Elric’s book, then he needed a spell that could not go awry. A spell that only a god in chains could conjure.
“You want me to cure you,” he said, the shot in the dark landing well as Callum winced. “But you want more than that, and we both know it. The cure is merely an excuse, a front to make yourself feel better about what you really want. You want power, as all men do. Trapping a god will not give you that.”
“Will it not?”
“No,” Elric growled. “You have hope for yourself, Callum Quen, and I promise you that hope is unfounded. The moment I escape from this trap, and I will, you’ll finally understand true pain.”
“I have felt pain.” Callum stood, although he was still shorter than Elric and therefore the movement didn’t give him the advantage he so desperately sought. “What do you know of pain as a god? I have watched people I loved die horrible deaths. I have felt the pain of loss and anguish, a loneliness so deep that you could not fathom the need inside of me to fix it. I will do anything to destroy everyone who stands in my way. And you are going to be my weapon.”
“I am no one’s weapon.” Elric was rattled by the man’s words, though.
These were the same words he would have said once released from thistorment. Callum was a mirror image of himself, much younger and much weaker, but still…
So this was the ploy.
