The Children of Zegandaria - Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov (world best books to read txt) 📗

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO: THE PENDANT OF MARBAS

Emborian remembered his acquisitions when he was rescued. So far he had not relied on outside magical aid. But he realized that the amulet could help him. Agares' ring still stood on his hand, and it was obvious that it would serve its master at least until the latter decided to keep it.

"How great is its power?" the boy wondered, "It must be great."

Then he remembered his guardian's words that he could only call him three times, and on the fourth, according to the contract, his soul would already belong to him. Once already he had come to his aid in the marshes.

The demon had not told him that Marbas provided answers to secrets and hidden riddles. He hadn't trusted him with exactly how many times he could use this acquisition of his, either.

Emborian didn't want to abuse his benefactor's gifts. Though now the demon was probably very angry and was looking for him under wood and stone to settle accounts with his charge.

The young novice had made his way out of the swamps and was trying to get home to Rodwell, but what was his surprise when he came to an invisible wall that he simply could not pass. It wasn't a magical spider web or some sort of advanced hyon web. He just pounded his fists together, but in vain.

No use and he soon gave up. Why did it have to be happening right now? He wasn't on well!

Emborian was trying to be nice and well-mannered, but here he started swearing like a brawler. Just to make you feel expensive! He roared like an ass and mixed memorized incantations with various curses, but that didn't help either.

He slumped slowly to the ground. Now he probably had to stay in this damned place forever!

He pulled out the pendant of Marbas that hung around his neck. And tried to challenge the demon with a thought. But nothing worked. He tried again and again. No effect.

He began to despair. Why was this happening?

He even tried to visualize the elements of the Mark of Marbas. Again to no avail.

Maybe he was expecting some kind of super miracle, and things were different!

He had to spend a rather long and difficult evening. And he didn't feel the sleep overturning him. It was cold and he was as cold as a dog.

Then someone or something touched him on the shoulder. He had reason to be concerned. But sleep continued to hold him in its strong clutches. A black veil lay before his eyes.

The minutes ticked by, and then the hours. Nothing was happening. Emborian slept like a slain man.

Suddenly a little boy with huge angel wings nudged him:

- Get up, lazy boy, what are you sleeping for - you have work to do and lots of it!

Emborian had never heard anyone speak to him in such a brutal menner. Especially since he was also Mag Tu.

- "You must address me as master," the boy managed to say.

- "But where did you come up with that?," the demon laughed, turning his pleasant childish face towards him.

- "I hold your locket," muttered the novice.

- "Technically, yes!," became serious Marbas. "But that's not nearly enough. You also need to know how to summon me in the right way! That will help you! Otherwise I'll just laugh in your face!"

- "But I am Mag Tu," Emborian turned red as a cancer.

- "Magus... but that's a complicated word," Marbas fretted. "You mortals have very difficult names."

Emborian saw that he wasn't going to go out on a limb with him. He wondered what to do - Agares hadn't told him exactly how to summon demons either. It was getting tangled. He realized how little he actually knew!

- "Look, I don't have time to wait for you to figure it out. What is your wish?," seemed to take pity on Marbas.

Emborian was astonished. Clearly things were happening differently now. The demon looked at him questioningly, waiting for some kind of answer.

- "Tell me exactly where I am!," the former Mag Tu pleaded.

- "And that's another matter," Marbas softened his tone. "I might help you this way, though on second thought you don't deserve my mercy, but come on, let it pass from me."

- "This is the purgatory of souls," the demon announced solemnly. "And you are being given a chance to purify yourself of your sins!"

- "And what must I do?," Emborian became quite serious.

- "Honestly, it's too different for everyone," respectfully turned to him Marbas. "What is your case?"

The young man told him about his patience.

- "Well, you shouldn't even be here, you should be straight in the ninth circle," he said in shock. "But you're holding my locket, Aren’t you - I'll get you out. But, remember, this is the first and last time I help you. For every one after that - I'll want something in return."

The failed charmer gritted his teeth to breaking point. She didn't want to answer to him for anything in the world.

- "Good on you," Marbas said playfully, turning to him, "but remember one more thing - luck is up to time. So - let's get started."

The demon concentrated and began to paint strange symbols in the air. His gentle voice became downright shrill and ominous, and then the setting suddenly changed.

They were in a different and completely unfamiliar place.

The young man tried to look at it, but Marbas stopped him.

- "Don't break our agreement!," he squeaked, and disappeared for a moment into the Heavens, riding his dragon.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE: THE MUTANT SAMIONTS

They were small and tiny creatures that Mark thought he had exterminated, but that wasn't quite true. There were still a few survivors. And right now they were gathered around Emborian. They were going to attack him at any moment.

- "Ertufo Di Zilo Res," the mage shouted in desperation, striking them all with a maddening orb lightning bolt.

Their half-baked bodies flopped around like chickEns on a wing. The sorcerer was amazed at the powers at his disposal.

He turned around, and behind him was the laughing Archmistress.

- "Who are you?," he hurriedly asked Emborian.

The fat man was awash with laughter. It was obvious he was some particularly important bird. There were many bodyguards around him. Well-trained and armed to the teeth, keeping a watchful eye on their master's life. A few mutants were also seen around him. They meekly and carefully stood at the ready for some order of his.

Emborian hastened to bow. His head bent almost to the ground.

- "You are fortunate, strange one," the herald cried with dignity to the Archist, "His Excellency will be kind to you today. You have slain some of his finest warriors. And all alone."

Now he looked closely at the Archistratus and noted the jewels that hung on it. He was covered in gold!

The Archmistress ushered Emborian into his ornate chambers and he was able to enjoy an indescribable luxury he had never seen. The Archmistress lived in a way that was accessible only to the supreme Om Gur Nal. Somewhere in the long corridors of his mansion, Emborian began to sense, and later to distinctly sense, a clear demonological activity, which, however, he dared not reveal to him.

The young man allowed himself to be guided by his gracious host and listened to his all too sparing words. He realised something terrible - the Archmistress was more bound to Hell than even himself!

He pleaded with him to help him, but the lord only agreed on one specific condition - that Mag Tu's sect cease to exist once and for all, or else come under his direct control. Either of these two options was absolutely acceptable.

- "Death will come when I decide," the Archmistress snapped, "I absolutely do not want some demons telling me when I should die!"

Emborian was mortified. This was bordering on suicide.

- "Aren’t you afraid of what will happen to your soul?," he wondered.

- "Hell has given me enough proof of its existence so far," he uttered sadly.

- "I just want to ask you how deep this whole thing really is?," puzzled Emborian.

- "Too much even!," the Archist added cautiously.

- "What is Hell to you?," the novice asked.

- "Hell they say is limited and too narrow," the Archistratus began, "but I would describe it as varied, or to put it another way, too specific in its visualisation for any one of us. I mean, you can always see things you never dreamed of. I even think the demonic forces want us to think that even if we go to Hell, we'll pass the meter. That's not the case at all."

They both felt the whiff of death around them.

- "I'm sure they can hear us," Emborian slurred.

- "I don't think so," the lord challenged him, "things are different in Hell, and deep down I'm sure we're in for big trouble. And where is Kazuk Mon, your teacher?"

- The youth swallowed his tongue with fear - he did not know what to answer. He tried to divert his host's attention from this topic.

- And the mutant samionts were... bean business. If they weren’t I'd never have met you.

- "You're avoiding my question," the Archist reminded him.

- "Well, no," the novice tried to maintain his dignity, "I'm saying that to get here, I had to remove every obstacle in my path and kill Kazuk Mon."

The Archpriest froze and stood like that for some time.

- "Young man, you seem to be an excellent servant of Hell," he laughed thunderously.

The young man did not feel particularly flattered by the praise thus laid out - never mind that it was coming from the Archistratus. It was all actually going in the right direction perhaps.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR: UFUR GAN

The planet Ufur Gan was in a strange place in the galaxy. It was several hundred parsecs away from Zegandaria, which was to say next to it. The people there had long been in the business of mining various poisons that were used in coups to overthrow the government.

Bite was the most famous kind of poison, extracted from a serviid ogre, an animal resembling a striped snake with a greenish-gold color.

It provided the planet's livelihood. And so it was for years. The fact that many of Ufur Gan's children had never seen anything beyond their home planet was not to be underestimated. It was a real tragedy, because they were growing up with a brainwashed mind and a warped view of reality.

Ufur Gan was quite impressive -