Gotim's Arc

Chapter 7 of 7

Morning had not yet reached the ridge when Gotim felt the seam of his cave part. He turned from the flat shelf where the key lay and found the incubus already inside. Chao DeVoid had earned this favor. Days ago he had given Gotim fire to burn a wraith, and fire had its price. Now the primordial stood with his staff in hand, the swirling orb at its head throwing pale light across the black walls. He did not knock. He did not wait to be asked. "The key," Chao said. "The devil's key. I've come for it." Gotim did not move toward the shelf. He measured the incubus the way he measured everything. "You gave me fire. I owe you a debt. I did not promise you that." "You promised a favor. This is the favor." Chao's black eyes did not blink. "The original. Not talk." Gotim lifted the key from the shelf and held it in his palm. Its horned crown caught the light. Molten lines ran down its shaft like veins. He had made it from the bearer's own medallion, and he did not yet know all it could open. "What do you want it for?" "That's mine to know." "Then it stays mine." Gotim closed his hand. "A key that opens forbidden doors, given to a man who won't say which door. I've watched too many wrong hands reach for power they can't hold. I won't add yours." Chao's jaw tightened. He said it fast, the way he said things he hated saying. "There's a throne buried in the cold. It grants mastery over desire. The old gods want it. They've decided it won't be me. I mean to reach it first." Then the shutter came down. "That's all you get." Gotim heard truth in it. He also heard a hunger old enough to break worlds. He crossed to the forge in the corner, its obsidian face seamed with molten light, runes glowing along its rim. "I'll make you a copy. From this fire and this shard. If it works, it's yours." "A copy might not open the throne." "Then we test it before you leave." Chao considered. He wanted the original and knew he would not get it. "Make it. It opens what I need, or the debt stays open." Gotim laid the key against the forge and drew shadow into the flame. The molten seams brightened. A second key rose from the heat, cooling from red to black, its horns curling like the first. He handed it over. Chao pressed it to the swirling orb of his staff. The orb flared. A thin door opened in the air, then closed. "It works," Chao said. He pocketed the copy. "Debt cleared." He left through the seam. Gotim looked at the original still in his palm and knew he had kept his ally and armed a rival for the same buried power.