Author's Note: I do not own anything for the Eddings books. This chapter has been a long time coming. There were a few surprises that…even surprised me…anyway please read and review…

Please, please, please, please…begging, pleading, groveling I'm desperate. Please review.

A Thief In Armor (Arc 2)

Chapter 14: Truth

Anakha.

The man of no destiny, no constraints of fate.

The man who slew dark gods and saved nations.

The man of great strength and implacable resolve.

The man no force in the world had yet prevailed over.

…The man who now lay prostrate on blackened, barren earth feeling every inch of his age…

Sparhawk gingerly sat up, his armor creaking along with his bones in protest. Painfully forcing his body into a half-sitting position, he haphazard a glance at the sky.

It remained an unbroken inferno of lava-bright fames extending into the horizon as far as the eye could see.

"I'm getting too old for this." Sparhawk said grumpily to no one in particular.

The Elenian Champion levered himself to his feet and looked around. He was utterly alone, surrounded by the bleak landscape of charred ground and blazing sky. There were no landmarks, neither man-made nor natural. The rocky ground was uniformly stark with a complete lack of vegetation or growth of any kind.

Resigned, Sparhawk set off in what he hoped was a straight line stumbling a bit as his lethargy dissipated. The Pandion scanned his surroundings and chose a direction at random.

There was no way to tell how long he walked. The set ordinances of time, space, and distance seem to be harrowingly subjective in this desolate landscape. The weary Knight continued to place one foot in front of the other in obstinate determination to find something; anything familiar.

"Doth thou yet tire of thy directionless ambling?"

Startled, Sparhawk turned toward a voice coming from his right. The deep, calm, baritone- voice came from a man that was walking unhurriedly toward Sparhawk. Halting, the Prince Consort waited suspiciously as his hand closed lightly on the hilt of his sword.

The man's features came into focus as he approached. He wore a long black cloak with strange inscriptions embroidered into the trim with silvery tread. Despite the lack of wind, the stranger's long cloak billowed around him as if it held its own awareness.

As peculiar as the cloak was, the stranger's most striking feature had to be his extraordinary eyes. Such a pale grey they appeared nearly colorless, they were made all the more arresting by the dark brows and lashes that framed them.

The pale-eyed man's completely white hair indicated age but his face was unlined and his gait was that of a young man. His expression was composed and firm as he approached Sparhawk.

In turn Sparhawk clung tighter to the hilt of his sword. The stranger lifted an eyebrow, a faint spark of amusement glinting a moment in his eyes before they returned to the serious, stern expression.

"I pray thee, be at ease. I harbor no malice toward thee, Anakha." The man said as he drew to within arms length.

Sparhawk gave the man a curt nod. "You seem to know my name, friend. Would you care to share yours?"

The man waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "My name shall be revealed unto thee in due time, Anakha."

His answer did not sit well with Sparhawk. The Pandion's instinct told him the stranger was hiding something, but he also sensed no immediate threat. Reluctantly, he allowed his hand to slide from the hilt of his sword.

"Well neighbor," Sparhawk said coolly, "I find myself at an impasse. Were you implying that you might know something about this god-forsaken land?"

The pale eyed man snorted. "This desolate landscape in which thou findest thyself is a direct consequence of thy actions, Anakha."

"You know neighbor, you seem to have a knack for being baffling as well as offensive." Sparhawk said curtly.

"It is truth thou hast issue with. It is the truth I speaketh unto thee; no more, no less." The stranger responded with a negligent shrug of the shoulders. Then he turned and began to walk away. "Come then, Anakha. Come unless thy desire is to abide in this fiery land."

Sparhawk had come to the simple conclusion that he did not particularly like his companion. However, his choices at that point were severely limited. With a resigned sigh he set out to follow the pale-eyed guide.

It was more of the same as they traveled, and Sparhawk could make no sense of where they were headed. The Elenian Champion longed to ask his guide about where exactly they were going, but was in no mood for any more enigmatic answers.

At first Sparhawk didn't realize his companion had paused and nearly walked into the stranger's back. Surprised he had stopped, Sparhawk opened his mouth to ask why. However the pale eyed man held up a hand for silence.

"Behold she cometh." Sparhawk's guide said, raising a hand and pointing at the sky.

Sparhawk looked up to where his companion indicated. Coming toward them was a large ebony-hued creature. A shock of familiarity raced through the Pandion. He had seen this thing, this Onyx, before. Flute had set her animals to battle it only a few nights before.

This time was different. The creature that had attacked Sparhawk's men in the early hours of the morning seemed like a mere shadow of what was coming toward him now.

Sparhawk could see every outline of the Onyx's glittering scales; a sheen of purple and blue shining on the obsidian surfaces.

The face on the end of the snake-like head now had distinct eyes of bleeding red lava. It flew despite only having the stumps of wings. The spot where the Onyx had its throat slit was now wrapped in a sheet of the deepest scarlet the Pandion had ever seen.

With a start, he realized the scarlet sheet was attached to a woman, a woman who was also painfully familiar to him. He limbs were long, languid and tanned. Her lips were full and sensual and her hair a long and glossy black curling against the evocative curves of her body. She rode the Onyx reclined against one of the massive stumps of its severed wings.

"I will deal with this vermin; thou hast not yet come into thy full power." Sparhawk's pale eyed companion broke the Elenian's contemplation of the familiar looking woman.

"My full power?" Sparhawk asked.

His strange guide ignored him. Instead the white-haired man raised his right hand. The symbols embroidered into his cloak seemed to glow. Abruptly, lightning appeared where his hand was; a swirling convergence of incandescent violet light. The light began to solidify into what Sparhawk realized was a massive longsword. It was inscribed with the same strange symbols that were on the black cloak.

The Onyx continued to approach inexorably forward. It closed the distance on the two companions and opened his mouth. A fume of noxious looking gas came out obscuring everything in front of Sparhawk. He waved his hands in front of his face, but the fumes were so dense as to be palpable and they refused to lift.

At that moment there was a bright gleaming and the air immediately cleared. A few feet away Sparhawk's guide dueled back and forth with the large Onyx, his sword tearing away scales as the creature thrashed and continued to pour out its obscuring fumes.

The woman seemed strangely disconnected from the fight and didn't change position even as the Onyx whipped about. Finally, the pale eye man thrust his sword into one of the creature's blazing lava eyes and it shrieked in fury and pain. It disengaged, rising high into the fiery sky.

The woman, however, didn't remain still. As the creature lifted itself higher in the air, the woman stood and dismounted. The grace of her movement was not lost on Sparhawk even as she performed the impossible descent.

She landed lightly on her feet, clad in gold sandals that crisscrossed her calves and tied below her knees. She sauntered slowly toward Sparhawk and his companion while her scarlet gown extended behind her into the sky.

The pale-eyed man turned to Sparhawk. "Beware Echelessa," he cautioned. "She is, above all, devious and seductive; take heed or thou wilt, all unaware, become ensnared in her web of deceit."

Echelessa…Sparhawk narrowed his eyes. He knew this woman--but not by that name.

The white-haired man sheathed his sword, the blade disintegrating in a shower of sparks. His eyes, however, remained wary. "Begone thou accursed creature. Thy presence will not be tolerated!"

The woman gazed at Sparhawk's companion with cold contempt. "Silence, traitor. It is not unto thee I have come." She said; her voice a throaty, sultry song. Breezing past him she halted in front of Sparhawk and smiled. "It has been long since we have seen each other. Yes, Mahkra?"

"Hello Lillias…" Sparhawk said evenly. "It seems you've risen in the world."

"Forgive my deception, dearest Mahkra, but did you not deceive me as well? Always when you were with me it was her you carried in your heart."

"Enough!" The pale-eyed man interjected. "I will no longer abide thy lies. Begone as I command or forfeit the life of thy mighty beast."

The woman called Echelessa hissed. "I will not forget this, traitor!" Turning toward Sparhawk she reached out and caressed his face. "We will meet again, beloved." She whispered.

Backing away, she leapt into the air and was drawn back to her Onyx by the strings of an unseen force.

Sparhawk turned back to his guide. "Neighbor, I think that you need to explain some things."

Part II

The ground continued to shake as Talen stumbled around looking for purchase. "Danae!" he called, scanning the chamber for his petite companion. The young princess crossed the room, her steps nimble even on the shifting ground.

"I believe it's time to leave, your highness." Talen said. Danae's response was cut off by a massive booming, as a section of the steps broke apart and came crashing down. The Pandion grabbed the princess as the rock stairwell swayed towards where the two were standing. Together they backed away closer toward where Listranges lay entombed.

"Looks like were not leaving the way we came" Danae observed, unruffled as she dusted herself off with her free hand. Her other hand was clenched tightly in her shaken companion's, though Talen didn't seem to notice what he was doing.

The major shaking had subsided, but the earth continued to rumble as the after-shocks rocked the room. Talen looked up and groaned. Danae was right; they would not be leaving the same way they came in. The steps leading down the Archprelate's final resting place had broken away in great chunks far too large to span by any normal means.

Desperately, Talen looked around again. The chamber was very old and underground, its walls covered with the strange pulsating silver glyphs. The symbols on the wall had to mean something. Perhaps there was another way out.

Talen pulled his royal accomplice toward the nearest set of silver symbols, tracing them with his fingers. The princess watched silently, but with a slightly amused expression on her face.

Talen scowled. "I don't suppose you could think of a better way out?" he growled.

Danae's eyes grew slightly rounder and her amused expression became even more so. "By all means, noble Knight, I put my royal personage and safety unquestionably in your capable hands!" she said, smiling demurely.

The Pandion thief could think of several things he wanted to do with Danae's royal personage at that moment. He was smart enough not to voice them. Especially since it seemed that the princess was actually enjoying their stint in this over-glorified grave.

He, on the other hand, wished to leave as soon as possible. They had what they came for; the H'va-ken tribe's literary achievements were now tucked under Talen's arm. The thief however, had a jittery feeling in his stomach. Somehow he could feel that something was very, very wrong. Even though Talen knew where he was, more or less, he couldn't seem to shake the feeling of somehow being displaced.

Talen shook his head, he was thinking too much. He was merely under the Great Basilica in Chyrellos, a city he knew as well as the back of his hand. How many years ago had he first started his pick-pocketing career in those dark alleyways, not to mention the more official capacities in which he now served? So why did he feel so edgy?

"Do any of these look familiar to you?" Danae's abrupt question was a welcome distraction from Talen's unease. The symbols she was referring to were in Styric, but the rending was in an archaic style, much older than what Talen was used to using.

The Pandion forced himself to recall the old Styric history lessons, the only time he heard the archaic phrases used. He focused on the dust of Listranges' burial chamber. Talen's classroom had dust too. In his head he went back to his quiet classroom tracing swirls in the dust on the window next to his desk as the Styric tutor lectured the novitiates.

Gradually the words clarified, their elegant cadences returning to the forefront of Talen's memory. The recollections helped. Talen recognized some of the words and was able to puzzle out the gist of the message. If he was deciphering it correctly, it was a spell to 'wake the dust'.

It seemed ominous, but it was a promising lead nonetheless. "Find anything useful yet?" Danae asked. Talen frowned. "There's a spell," he said indicating the symbols. "I'm going to try it."

Danae looked at where he was pointing and her expression turned wary. "I don't think that would be a good idea…" she said worriedly. Talen threw a quick glance at her, his own brows drawn together. "Don't worry princess, the spell isn't complicated…let's see if it does anything." He said and began incanting the spell.

Danae interrupted him. "I really do not...Talen you had better stop."

Talen rolled his eyes. "Your highness," Talen said with exaggerated patience, "Please let me handle this. Last time I checked I was a Master of the Secretes, while you can't even read Styric. Besides," he said, giving her his best smirk, "…where's your sense of adventure, princess? Would you rather stay here and keep Listranges' corpse company?"

Danae was furious. Dropping his hand, (which Talen belatedly realized had been wrapped around hers the entire time) she lifted one imperious finger and prepared to tell him exactly what he would not do.

Before she could draw breath, Talen hastily finished reciting the entire spell.

Nothing happened.

"Well that didn't work." Talen said as he moved to the next set of shining glyphs. Talen opened his mouth to incant the next set of spell when he was suddenly interrupted by a dry, rasping whisper. Talen and Danae looked at each other and both turned around slowly.

"Deeeee…ssseeeee….craaaaa……"

To Talen's total astonishment Listranges, the old dead Archprelate, was sitting up within his sepulture attempting to communicate. His mummified corpse was little more than bones thinly covered with cracking, leathery skin.

"Deeessseeeeeecraaaaaaatorssss!" the thing wheezed, its rasping voice similar to sand rubbing slowly against metal.

As if Talen's day was not going badly enough, the long-dead corpse of Listranges vaulted toward the Pandion as if he were a living breathing acrobat. Shoving the H'va-ken tribe book at Danae, Talen unsheathed his sword just in time to counter Listranges' first strike.

"Desecrators!" Listranges said in his rasping, dusty voice. "Thieves of the most holy! You will pay for this blasphemy!"

Talen parried another wild strike. "Where did this old windbag get a sword?" he yelled.

"How should I know?" Danae demanded as she backed away from the struggle going on in front of her. Talen gave Listranges a swipe of his own, but the corpse seemed unfazed, it didn't even bleed. Talen ground his teeth in frustration. How were you supposed to kill something that was already dead?

"Vile heretic! Your bones will rot as your soul burns in damnation for all eternity!" Listranges cried.

Talen felt an all too familiar fury begin to build in him again. "That was a bit over the top, you rotting, despicable, piss-poor excuse for a holy man."

The Pandion Knight tossed aside his sword and quickly formed a spell. The incantation fell perfectly from his lips as his rage cleared away every distraction. Listranges literally flew apart as Talen's flawlessly manufactured whirlwind ripped the corpse to pieces.

"Nicely done." Danae commented, an odd note of sincerity her voice. Her face expressed cool approval.

Suddenly the air was filled with the sound of moaning voices and shuffling feet. Talen and Danae looked up. Hundreds of mummified corpses were beginning to descend the steps from above. "Don't worry…" Talen said nervously. "They won't be able to get past the gaps."

However, to Talen's horror, the corpses didn't even try; instead they simply fell to the ground far beneath the stairs. Many of the corpses were mangled by the fall, but several came down unscathed. Talen summoned the whirlwind again, but there were many corpses to deal with and more coming.

As a corpse attacked Talen from the side the Pandion's concentration slipped and the whirlwind died. The young Knight was soon overwhelmed. Though he had been able to get his sword, the weapon was largely ineffective against the undead creatures.

"Talen! Over here quickly!" Danae called from across the chamber.

He kicked the nearest undead and ran over to where the princess was gesturing frantically. After confirming that Talen was coming, Danae turned back to the glyph's she was staring at and began chanting a complicated Styric phrase.

Thunderstruck, Talen halted in the middle of his flight and dropped his sword.

"YOU KNOW THE SECRETS?!" Talen screamed.

"I never said I did not, if you recall, Talen." Danae responded calmly.

"What the hell! Who…"

Danae interrupted, "Now is not the time Talen! I will explain later, I promise."

Talen had no time to finish his question. The corpses continued to multiply and they had caught up with the Pandion. He picked up his discarded sword and batted away the nearest few. Swiftly, he ran to where Danae standing.

To Talen's amazement the wall in front of Danae was sliding aside, revealing another set of steps. Could Sparhawk have taught his daughter the Secrets? Maybe, but why wouldn't he have told me? Danae slipped through and disappeared up the flight. Talen followed her, unfortunately, so did the massive horde of undead corpses.

"It there a way to close this wall?" Talen called up.

"Absolutely not!" Danae yelled down. Talen muttered a few choice oaths as he redoubled his efforts to race up the stairs. Fortunately, it was straight upward, but Talen could hear the rasping undead close behind.

Sephrenia? No she has barley been in Elenia…a few visits here and there, nothing long enough to teach such advanced spells to her…

Talen continued to climb on and on, pausing every so often to send a nasty offensive spell barreling down behind him. "How long do these stairs go?" Talen asked, breathless from running, fighting and spell-casting. He could not even see his companion; she was too far ahead. Her voice floated down. "Just keep climbing! The undead can only go so high!"

It seemed Talen was not far enough up. He stopped suddenly as a stitch in his side flared in pain. His mind was reeling. How does she know about the undead? Who could have taught her all this?

The thought was interrupted as an undead dressed in battle gear lunged at Talen. The agile thief stepped aside and kicked the corpse back down. I should ask Aphrael-- she would know. Talen continued to run up hoping that eventually the undead would give up their pursuit.

Aphrael…It was probably Aphrael herself who taught Danae. She and Flute have met before.

Suddenly, Talen stopped on the stairs as an overheard conversation floated back to his memory. Khalad and Berit had been arguing about Danae.

For some reason Berit was comparing her to Flute; pointing out their similar habits, mannerisms, even looks. Khalad, having the impatience of a new preceptor with more important matters to be concerned, had promptly assigned Berit a new mission and kicked him out of the Chapterhouse. Talen had no idea why they were arguing about the goddess and the princess being similar but now…

Now he knew.

"Oh hell." Talen said in a small voice. He looked up the stairs and back down. For a long moment he considered heading back down and trying his luck with the undead minions. No, first he wanted answers.

The young princess was right, as the rasping voices behind had grown fainter. Talen continued climbing as he clutched a stitch in his side. The Pandion thief glanced around. Imperceptibly the stairwell had begun to grow less dark, and became even brighter further up the stairs.

Talen finally caught up to his companion at the top of the stairwell.

Danae's head was tilted back as her fingers wove intricate gestures; silvery glyphs shimmering in the air above her head. Talen leaned against the wall and slowly sank to the floor as further evidence of the truth blasted away any lingering doubts.

"You said you would explain." He said softly, half to himself.

"Later Talen, please, I'm trying to concentrate." the princess said as she continued to manipulate the air above her. Finally she dropped her hands and a spider crack zigzagged through the ceiling. The middle suddenly started chipping away and sunlight streamed down onto the staircase.

Overhead pieces lifted away until there was a small hole with warm light pouring through.

Danae dusted off her hands and turned to Talen. "Could you lift me up please?"

Talen stood and walked silently to Danae. She studied him. "Are you alright Talen?" she asked.

"Yes, my lady."

Danae tipped her head to one side and tried to look into Talen's eyes. He avoided her gaze and instead lifted the petite princess. She took a hold of the outer edge of the hole and pulled herself through leaving Talen alone for a moment.

The Pandion took a breath. The overwhelming emotions assailing him made him feel dizzy; anger, hurt, betrayal. The past few days had their rigors, he had barely slept for nearly two nights and he spent the last half an hour fighting things that were already dead. Everything seemed like a surreal nightmare, one from which he wished he would wake up from.

Danae… Aphrael…they really were the same person.

Talen looked up. He was sure, but he wanted…

He wanted to hear it from her.