Intertwining Destinies

Chapter 45

The goblin had left the team at the foot of a steep monumental staircase. His mobility contraption would not allow him to roll up the steps to the inner sanctum. While he prayed to Danu that they would be able to put the Army to rest permanently, a part of him was already planning ahead if events didn't turn out that way. He coveted the pair of shiny emerald eyes possessed by the she-elf, with all his heart. Either way, he had something to gain from the outcome of the approaching battle.

Emerald took in all she could of the cavernous space as they climbed the stairs. She could never have imagined the beauty of genuine Bethmooran architecture, had she not been present to see it. The caves she had investigated during her archaeological digs were mere remnants of something that had once been glorious and magnificent. The Golden Army had been a scary sight, but the historian in her wished that she could have taken photographs and documented each and every facet of the underground castle.

She looked ahead and saw Nuada and Nuala proceeding up the stairs. The pair in their black silk clothing looked almost ethereal amid their surroundings. Nuada had earlier explained to her that Bethmoorans wore black and red during wartime. He had worn black for over a thousand years in his pursuit of vengeance, only to realise that the fate befallen his kind, had not been dealt by human hands. It was now up to them as the last of the Bethmooran royalty, to destroy the curse of the Golden Army and salvage what was left of their race.

Liz and Hellboy walked together, a few paces behind the royals. Emerald followed them with Krauss and Abraham bringing up the rear. Her legs were beginning to cramp from the long climb, and half of the staircase remained to be traversed. It was easier to focus on her shortness of breath, rather than to think about who was waiting on the other side.

Maya had told her Sreng's story – of how as a young boy, he had been tortured and beaten into submission, and had never forgotten nor forgiven. He had carried out his masters' every heinous command until he'd found the opportunity to overthrow them. After such a truly sad and bitter past, it remained a question whether he had any compassion left in him. Was he so inured to violence that he could see no other way?

When Emerald reached the top, she was awed by the splendid room revealed before her. The huge circular vaulted ceiling was supported by a continuous series of mighty blue and gold pillars, all etched with Elvish carvings. A mural bearing the Bethmooran crest hung at the far end wall, above what appeared to be a raised stage.

Sreng himself stood high up and alone there, dressed in a tunic decorated with the same motif that Emerald had seen on her scroll's seal. His lips curved in a sardonic smile as he looked first upon Nuada and Nuala. He studied the rest of the familiar faces in the group, before setting his attention on Emerald.

Emerald stood her ground, silently challenging him with her steady gaze. A hint of surprise flickered in Sreng's pale eyes, before he masked it with scorn.

"I will give you one last opportunity, Emerald. Come submit to me, and I will spare your life for the offence of defying me."

"No."

Her denial hardened his frown.

"You are on the wrong side, Emerald. These Bethmoorans, ancient as rocks, are a dying breed. Their race has been cursed, and nothing now will save them. You were to be their salvation but...as you can see, I have the crown." He produced the golden circlet and displayed it to all, then solemnly placed it on his head. Like an instant earthquake, a deep reverberation rumbled through the vast chamber. She whipped her head back when Hellboy yelled, "Crap!"

At their left, the full view of the cavernous Army chamber lay open to them. Steam and dust billowed into the air as the Golden Soldiers reanimated, each mechanical body filled with a blaze of live red current.