Unbound

Chapter Seven Hundred And Sixty Seven – 767

Three Days Prior

Gabby sat with her head cradled by silken sheets and impossibly soft pillows. She stared at a ceiling painted to resemble the evening sky, wondering how she had gotten into this mess. Before she’d regained her Mind. Before Imara.

Her memories of that time were hazy. What stood out was a great deal of training interspersed with exceptional violence that curdled her blood to think on. Recent events were easier. She recalled her brother, the man who now went by Felix Nevarre.

She swallowed. Gabby found it hard to reconcile her dorky older brother with the…terrifying man she’d fought.

The man Imara had fought. Gabby wasn't her, not anymore.

She sat up, letting the cool silk sheets pool around her knees as she looked around for the hundredth time. It was the same chamber she’d been given, back when she hadn’t a thought in her head except whatever the Pathless shoved in there. It was wide and circular, covered in gilded details that curled like feathers from the corners of the room. Sconces set with Mana crystals, all gold, filled the place with a dim light that fit the theme of her evening sky ceiling. It was a dome, picked out with silver stars that formed constellations she didn’t recognize.

Imara couldn’t have cared less about the room. She had trained and hunted; she hadn’t had the time for soft mattresses, thick rugs, and deep, cozy fireplaces. Gabby, on the other hand, appreciated it all: the wealth, the comfort…and the threat they represented. The Hierophant had given her the room, and the Hierophant could take it away.

Stop that, she chided herself. She doesn't know you're you. Not fully, at least.

Since making her deal with the gods, Gabby had been keeping up the act. It wasn't a complex task. Imara had been more of a robot than a human being.

Human. She wasn't that either, anymore. Her race was Gigas—some strange hybrid of giant. She pulled up the details, just to remind herself.

Lore: The Gigas were ancient precursors of the giantfolk that now are scattered across the Continent. Possessed of incredible natural Strength and Endurance, they were peerless warriors and stout defenders of all that they claimed. The Gigas are a Lost Race.

Lost Race. Just like him.

Imara had Analyzed her brother back when they’d first fought. She hadn’t managed to break through his protections, but later, in that vault, she had glimpsed something. She remembered it vividly because it had been accompanied by a burst of strange buzzing static.

Nym: The Nym were magi of great power and Skill—but even that could not save them. The Nym are a Lost Race.

Eerie. Gabby shivered. So he picked a wizard Race, and I got a meathead.

She lifted her arms. Covered in simple tunic sleeves that ended at her powerful biceps, they bulged with muscle and even a few errant veins along her forearms. She had abs, for crying out loud. Her stats were also ridiculous, especially her physical ones, though they had deflated quite a bit since the Pathless had been eviscerated. Still, even without the gods riding shotgun in her soul, she was incredibly strong.

Fat lot of good that did me. Turns out, the gods were much, much stronger than her–stronger than anyone. Their brief encounter had convinced her that it was pointless to even attempt to fight back.

Directly.

That’s where things got tricky. Gabby was fairly certain the Hierophant knew she wasn't emotionless, but it was clear that the woman didn't suspect that her memories had fully returned. She had inquired a time or two, but Gabby prided herself on her acting. She'd been in several stage productions in college, and she'd even had a meeting with an agent set up. That was why she'd been celebrating with April out on that yacht before everything had gone wrong.

God. April. I hope she's okay.

Gabby didn't remember much after they’d left the boat. Her brother had saved her best friend then gotten into a fight as a distraction. She'd wanted to go back, but April had been in such a bad way. The last thing from that night that she clearly remembered was the ambulance coming down the street.

The lightning had come only seconds later.

Gabby slapped her own cheeks hard enough to make her vision go blurry. Stop dwelling. Focus on the plan.

Fooling the High Priestess of the Pathless had been surprisingly simple enough so far, though she imagined it wouldn’t stay that way. For now, she just had to follow orders and remain appropriately stoic. That was harder than it sounded. The Hierophant was dangerous and intense, and she wore all of her mercurial feelings on her sleeve. The sheer glee Gabby had felt from her during the executions of the recent rioters had been unbearable.

A sound rustled out in the hall, and Gabby's Perception clung to it as if it were a firecracker going off. Beyond the door, servants were scurrying through the area, two or three quickly passing her rooms on their way to one of the secret passages they usually took. It was unusual to have so much activity in her wing of the Shining Palace. As the Hierophant's secret enforcer, Gabby had so far been awarded a measure of privacy that doubled handily as incarceration.

Footsteps stilled, and a presence lingered. Someone knocked.

Gabby quickly schooled her face to impassivity and spoke. "Enter."

A nervous servant in white and black stepped in, bearing a tray laden with food. "Your evening meal, my Lady."

Gabby remained silent for a moment as the servant set up a stand to place the wide golden tray upon. More rushed past the door, looking frantic.

"What's happening?" she asked, keeping her voice gruff.

The man started. "Ah, the Hierei have returned, my Lady. Sooner than expected, with the Hierophant gone." He strained to read her face, and whatever he saw made him pale. "Forgive me, my Lady, I should not comment on such things."

Gabby stopped herself from chewing her lip. She had known the Hierei were returning, just as she had known that the Hierophant had sequestered herself for the last two days for reasons unknown. Gabby had planned for it. The Hierei, those that remained, had been ordered to return to the Shining Palace in light of the Pathless’ murder. It would be her one chance to speak with them, alone.

"Leave me," Gabby commanded.

The servant said nothing more, only bowed and fled as gracefully as he could, closing the door with a sharp click.

Gabby waited an excruciating thirty seconds after the door latched to approach. She pressed her ear to it, straining her Perception. It wasn't as good as her Strength and Endurance, but it was solid. She heard nothing.

This is it. Go!

The door opened easily, neither locked or warded, and the wide halls outside were empty. Not even the servants still scurried about, and that was for the best. Gabby moved swiftly through the inner portions of the central tower, her strong legs propelling her like the wind across thick Dwarven rugs. She had just passed the third marble statue of a Human Paladin killing an Orc when she heard voices echoing unpredictably through the rooms ahead. She sped up, not quite running.

She was on a timer. Before the Hierophant left seclusion, Gabby had to speak with the Hierei. They were the powers in Amaranth outside of the High Priestess, commanding the various orders and great portions of the city itself. She needed to convince them that Felix Nevarre didn't kill the Pathless, no matter what their leader or the gods insisted.

If they believed her, she might be able to undercut the gods’ plans.

The voices grew louder, so much so that she expected to find them around the corner. Yet they were not, and she slowed to a stop, stymied for a brief, agonizing moment.

Wait. The servant passages!

Her Perception easily picked out the slight grooves of a hidden door nearby, as well as the slight, shadowed gap beneath a conspicuous sconce. Gabby tugged on the light fixture, a hidden latch clicked, and the door opened on well-oiled hinges. Several liveried men and women jumped at her abrupt entrance, but they moved silently out of her way as she slipped into the passage, before scurrying off in terror.

Gabby scowled. She didn't like feeling that. Her Affinity stat, recently unlocked, was useful at times, but mostly it had been nightmarish. She felt dirty for invading people's privacy and terrified that people could invade hers. She had spent a lot of time controlling her own emotions since, locking her Spirit down until it cramped. It was so hard, but she was getting better at it, fast. Unbound learned quickly, they said.

A noise, metal and abrupt, tore through the hall. Gabby approached the nearest servant’s glass—enchanted to be a two-way mirror, it was no more than two inches across and a foot tall. She peered through.

Beyond was a sitting room, well-appointed, filled with built-in bookshelves of dark wood, a fireplace, and a selection of overstuffed sitting chairs. The fireplace itself was shaped into a pair of faceless figures, both of them dressed much as the priests. They were extending their hands toward the center, where a symbolic sun radiated lines of stone up into the ceiling.

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It was a common motif in the Shining Palace, a depiction of the Pathless's servants bringing light to the world. Two white-robed priests were seated in the high-backed chairs, while a third paced before the empty mantle. A metal tray lay at her feet, tea and crockery spilled across the carpet between the three.

“Damn the Pathless," the woman said. Quist Setti, the Hierei of Bos’Vaan, stalked the chamber. Golden lights sparked across her fingers, and her thin face was even more pinched than usual. "How could He abandon us, now, when all was going to plan?"

"The Pathless did not abandon us," said a tall, strapping man with dark skin and a lavender sash across his white robes. Lar Kodal, Hierei of Andiva and Tavan. "What we felt was death, and that could not have been of his own choosing."

The elderly Kellis stared into the glass knob of his walking cane, as if contemplating a distant mystery. His face was sagging more than what Gabby remembered. Though Imara had been an unfeeling hulk without concern for social niceties, Gabby recalled him only ever being kind.

"What we should be asking is not why, but how," he said, looking up from his cane. "The Pathless was not an elemental nor an Urge. He was a god. There is no question of that. Who or what could snuff out his Divinity?"

Gabby, for all her stage training, knew an entrance line when she heard it. She swiftly undid the latch and stepped into the sitting room.

"Who indeed," she said.

Acting is level 101!

Kodal jerked his head around from his chair, frowning as he made her out, while Quist's hands flared with golden light that spiraled up across her biceps and shoulder as she glowered in her direction. Kellis, for his part, simply watched her with concern."Unbound,” Quist snapped. “Returned as well? I cannot imagine why. You were a disgrace on the battlefield, I heard. Thousands of faithful dead, due to your blunders."

"I followed our god's Will. It was He that failed in the end."

Kodal stood, his fine features crowded into a scowl. "Watch your tongue, Titan—”

“No, let her speak," Quist gestured imperiously. "Come, sit, tell us of this failure."

Gabby did not approach any further, nor did she sit. She was taller than them by several feet. And it was this fact alone that gave her strength to stare them all down. Internally, all she felt was nervousness, so intense she could throw up.

"The Pathless sought out the death of Felix Nevarre. We fought upon the plains of Pax’Vrell, and the Pathless…fell. Felix Nevarre defeated Him."

"Impossible,” Kodal muttered.

“It aligns with what I’ve heard,” Kellis said to the man. “Have you not gathered the whispers yourself? Does your order lack ears?”

Quist clucked her tongue. “Indeed. None of my own survived that field, yet rumors swirl like locusts. The Paladins are already calling him Nightbringer. Superstitious fools.”

“I…cannot believe a mortal faced down the Pathless and lived, let alone won. It defies the very System itself!”

She shrugged. "Impossible or not, the truth cannot be denied. He fell to Nevarre, and perhaps he would have died to him…had there not been interference."

Quist frowned. “What interference?”

Gabby couldn’t answer that. “Nevarre did not kill the Pathless,” she repeated.

“Yet he died,” Kellis said slowly.

“He did. What could possibly kill a Divinity?”

“Only—” The priest’s jowls shook, and his eyes widened. “Only another Divine.”

"Impossible," Kodal said again, and this time, anger rumbled from him like a waking volcano.

“What proof do you have of this claim?” Quist demanded.

Gabby opened her mouth, but no sound emerged. The Oath tightened her chest, preventing breath from forming into words. She couldn’t speak on what she’d seen in that lightless place where the gods were trapped.

“There is no proof!” Kodal shouted, standing so abruptly his chair catapulted away from him. “The gods are bound by their nameless blasphemy. They could not do such a thing!”

Despite the pain, Gabby couldn’t let that lie. She forced her jaw open. “The gods—”

"The Remnant King is dead," boomed a powerful voice, loud enough that all of them winced.

Gabby nearly staggered, her Oath snapping her mouth shut once again. No, she's not supposed to be here yet!

The far doors opened, and a slender woman of indeterminate age strode through, carrying a pale staff and clad in a white gown brighter than the Hierei’s vestments. A silver diadem shone from her brow, beneath waves of pale hair flecked with gray. Above a face that once looked somewhat between twenty and fifty, but now bore a fine network of lines across her brow and at the edges of her wide mouth.

Ocalla Marzul, the Hierophant. She looked at them all, her face inscrutable.

"The Night we've long feared has come."

As one, they dropped to their knees, and Gabby was swift to follow.

"Glory be to the Hierophant,” they intoned.

"Glory is not my aim," she said, stepping forward and lifting Quist back to her feet. The others followed. The Hierei was dumbfounded, as if she'd just been touched by the Divine. "Now, we are only concerned with survival.”

“What does this empty creature mean, your Eminence?" Kodal asked. "How could the old gods be free?"

Gabby watched the Hierophant cautiously. She had hoped the woman would remain in seclusion for another few hours at least, long enough for her to convince the priests. One wrong word from their leader, however, would ruin it all.

"Not free. Their chains still bind them, but their influence has grown greatly. Imara speaks the truth. She was there as the gods divided the Pathless amongst themselves, gorging on his Divinity like jackals."

The weight of her words was like a slap in Gabby's face, and her heartbeat quickened in her veins before she forced it to slow.

She knows?

"You seem surprised, Imara. While Oaths may bind you, they cannot blind me. The gods tipped their hands when they took you. They couldn't have if they had not also taken the Pathless. Their laws forbid it.”

“Ouranic laws. You know them."

The Hierophant smiled. Gabby became aware of the Hierae, staring with horror at the pair of them, but Kellis more than most.

"How could this happen?" the old man asked.

"The Trackless One overextended himself. He faced down Felix Nevarre in the Rimefangs and lost a piece of his power for his trouble."

"Nevarre," Kodal snarled, and Quist's eyes flashed with golden light. For her part, Gabby tried not to feel pleased.

"Yes, Kodal, you were right all those months ago," the Hierophant said, her face downcast. "We should have scoured him from this world from the start.”

“Your Eminence, we only acted with the information we had, and how could we have known that he would prove to be such a mighty foe?"

"Mighty," the Hierophant said, her lips twisting into a sneer. "Yes, when the Pathless once again faced down the upstart of Nagast, he did so at the front of a great host of the faithful. Priests, Paladins, and Inquisitors working together to face down the heretics in Pax’Vrell. Yet he faltered."

The Hierophant looked at Gabby, and she forced herself to meet the woman's gaze. It felt like she was being scoured herself, stripped bare layer by layer by an intelligence that Gabby couldn't comprehend. It lasted only a second, but she wanted to gasp for breath at its end.

Acting is level 103!

"Our greatest failed, and the Pathless was struck down by treachery. By Unbound."

The Hierae gasped, almost in unison.

"Titan—" Kodal snarled.

“No. Imara was laid low herself. This was the work of another.”

“Nevarre,” Kellis said, his voice faint. Kodal looked dumbstruck.

"Yes, and two others. The Minotaur and the Delven are both at his side. Together, they've claimed Pax’Vrell and several other territories. They are building an empire, just as the demons of old."

Quist sucked in a sharp breath. "Three Unbound. What of the others?"

"That is our highest concern now," the Hierophant said, "and our first task."

Kodal, Quist, and Kellis placed their palms over their sternums in a gesture that Gabby faintly remembered as a religious pose.

"Speak, and we shall obey," they all said in unison.

"For now, the gods are aiding us, for they wish us to collect the remaining Unbound for their purposes."

"What of the ritual?" Quist started to ask before the Hierophant cut her off.

"We will capture the Unbound. The gods have already located them for us. Our greatest challenge will be to reach them before Nevarre can do so himself."

“Demon or not, he cannot possibly move as quickly as our people.”

“The Autarch cannot be underestimated. He travels fast and appears in unexpected locations. We must be faster.”

"Where must we go?" Kellis asked.

"So eager," the Hierophant said, smiling at the old man. "I'll not send you alone. Alone, you could be taken and destroyed, as Mivun was. By the grace of foresight, I have saved many of our faithful from the ravages of our god’s death. We will require them for this effort. How many remain of our orders?"

"Sixteen thousand Paladins," Quist reported.

"Twenty-three thousand Inquisitors," Kodal rattled off.

"Thirteen thousand Priests," Kellis finished. "However, more stragglers reach the outskirts of Amaranth each day. Few are whole."

"Fractured core spaces or not, we can make use of them," the Hierophant said. "All of us have a part to play."

What is she planning?

The thought sent a burning sensation sweeping through her, indescribably cold and scorching hot, baking her bones even as they were frozen solid. The pain traced across Gabby like twisted fingers running through her spine and down her limbs. It was her Oath, and it was far worse than simply silencing her.

It doesn’t like this plotting. She could almost see it, like a silver thread that coiled around her limbs before leading off into the heavens. The strings of a puppet.

Quist pursed her lips, unaware of Gabby's agony. "I do not mean to doubt your Eminence, but I must ask, will even these numbers suffice against three Unbound?"

The Hierophant placed a surprisingly wrinkled hand on the woman's bony shoulder. A wave of relaxation flowed across Quist’s Spirit. She sagged, her pinched face loosening into something resembling ease.

"These plans have long been in motion, and though the path has grown thorny, we can do nothing but ascend.” The Hierophant smiled kindly. “Will we be enough? That is the wrong question.”

“How many can we save from what is coming?” Kellis said.

“Indeed. Our purpose is to save our people. That has not changed. The Night comes, children. The moons will rise, and we must be ready for the cleansing that follows."