by R A Oakes
“If we don’t stop Chen from inheriting Crystal, even Corson won’t be able to fathom the consequences,” Baelfire said.
“Corson has nightmares every night, bad ones.”
“Not like this!”
Aerylln fell silent, content to ride along and enjoy Zorya’s smooth, powerful strides. The teenage girl found the golden haze comforting and thought, Why do I feel good when I’m heading directly towards evil?
At that point, the young woman realized she had no idea what was going on around her. For if she did, Aerylln might have wished she’d never met her horse, her sword and the old wizard.
Chapter 16
Sitting in his great room at The Rock, Lord Daegal was fingering the medallion he wore around his neck. The warlord never took the medallion off, not when he bathed, slept, engaged in battle or celebrated his victories. Never. The medallion was made of polished black crystal, the same type of crystal used to create Aunt Glenitant’s fortress. Encircling the black crystal was a thin band of white gold, which provided a striking contrast.
“So, what do you think, Crystal?” Lord Daegal asked the dark sword. The Crystal Medallion enabled the evil sword to communicate with the wearer anywhere and at anytime, precisely what was happening now. Lord Daegal and Crystal were talking even though one was at The Rock and the other at Glenitant’s castle.
“About what?” the dark sword asked needling the warlord.
“Don’t be impertinent. You know what I mean. What’s happening between Chen and my sister, Glenitant?” Lord Daegal asked trying to keep his feelings of irritation in check.
If the dark sword’s relationship with Glenitant could be described as tolerable, Crystal’s association with Lord Daegal was worse being tedious, filled with mutual suspicion and, at times, hostile. On one hand, having possessed the dark sword for years, Glenitant was tired of it. The old witch was tired of its insatiable evil, tired of its endless demands, and she was even tired of living. Lord Daegal, on the other hand, had envied his sister for years and lusted after Crystal wanting to possess her but unable to do so, as of yet. Lord Daegal craved power and the dark sword exuded it, but the warlord seemed blind to Crystal’s malicious mischief. The dark sword had seen this before. Blind desire, and though she liked it, she also felt the warlord was a fool.
But as much as she wanted to, Crystal couldn’t totally dismiss Lord Daegal. Possessing the Crystal Medallion, the warlord had the one thing Crystal desperately wanted, something she desired over everything else. Literally within his grasp, Lord Daegal had inherited the Crystal Medallion from his father and the dark sword wanted it badly, very badly, as much as the warlord wanted her.
Crystal had always been a powerful weapon, although not as powerful as Baelfire, but that could change under the right conditions. And the most important condition of all was the dark sword and the medallion being reunited. The Crystal Medallion was actually an extension of Crystal herself, much like how Zorya and Baelfire belonged together and shared a deep, mystical bond. However, Crystal believed Glenitant was weak, far too weak to wield the dark sword and the Crystal Medallion effectively. Chen was another matter.
Crystal thought, Chen, glorious Chen! What a pleasure it will be to have the Crystal Medallion hanging from her neck. And what a joy it will be to feel her rage when she grips me.
In the past, the opportunity to be reunited with the Crystal Medallion had never materialized. Until recently, this hadn’t bothered Crystal, at least not overly so, because the dark sword viewed Glenitant as being stupid, coarse and lacking ambition. But with Chen entering the picture, Crystal was increasingly dissatisfied and thought, Glenitant lacks the daring and willingness necessary to take bold risks. Being wielded by an intelligent, determined and fierce warrior woman like Chen would be a welcome relief.
In case the dark sword finally found a way to be reunited with the medallion, Crystal had kept in touch with Lord Daegal. Well, now Crystal wanted it back, and she wanted it for Chen.
To accomplish this, much to her dismay, the dark sword realized she’d need to sweet-talk Lord Daegal. Crystal thought, Just because he wears the Crystal Medallion, Lord Daegal thinks he owns it, when he’s just a caretaker. Only a woman can wield us effectively.
But now, as the dark sword listened to Lord Daegal, she realized there was a chance, a good chance, that she and the Crystal Medallion might finally be reunited.
“Crystal, you might enjoy having Chen for a master,” Lord Daegal said.
“Oh?”
“Well, temporarily. For a long time, I’ve wanted to have you here with the Crystal Medallion and me. You know that don’t you?” Lord Daegal asked.
“I have always wanted to be with the medallion,” Crystal said, and then thought, But not with you.
“Well, Glenitant has never been too smart, but she wields your power well enough to keep me from coming to rescue you,” Lord Daegal said.
“Oh, I so wish you would,” Crystal said hiding her distain and forcing herself to flatter the warlord. But Crystal was thinking, I’m not going from a lackluster idiot like Glenitant to a crude thug like Lord Daegal.
“Although Chen is a deeply disturbed young woman,” Lord Daegal said, “she wouldn’t know how to use a sword like yourself to your fullest potential. She’s too inexperienced.”
She could learn, Crystal thought. But the dark sword held her peace and said, “It would be nice to finally come into my own. I wonder if there’s really anyone who can take me there?”
“I might be able to,” Lord Daegal said.
“How?”
“If Glenitant should die, Chen would inherit you for herself. However, Chen is inexperienced and her power wouldn’t be nearly as great as Glenitant’s. So, it’s very possible that I could rescue you.”
Crystal had no intention of living with Lord Daegal, but she continued to listen as the warlord asked, “Could you provoke Glenitant and Chen into fighting each other?”
“Easily, what would be hard is keeping them from each other’s throats.”
“If Chen could defeat Glenitant, I’d attack Crystal Castle with as many warriors as necessary to discourage Chen from putting up any resistance. If I showed up with several thousand men, I could defeat my niece even if she tried to use your power.”
“I’m looking forward to your arrival,” Crystal said honestly but not for Lord Daegal’s reasons.
Instead, Crystal was thinking, If I can get Chen to kill her aunt, then we’ll have Crystal Castle for ourselves. And if we defeat Lord Daegal’s army, then the Crystal Medallion can join Chen and me. With Lord Daegal defeated, there’s no one else who could challenge our power. The whole region would be ours.
And that was a very real possibility, but Crystal’s plans were about to be disrupted by an old wizard, a horse, a teenage girl and her sword.
Chapter 17
Depressed and discouraged, Chen was sitting in Crystal Castle’s great hall in front of an enormous fireplace watching the roaring inferno with her wolfhound, Zenkak, lying at her feet. He was a brutish, vicious beast and leader of the pack. The other wolfhounds brooded as well but kept their distance from Zenkak and their master. The ground nearest Chen was the lead wolfhound’s personal domain. None dared challenge him. Zenkak’s volcanic, hair-trigger, explosive temper matched Chen’s. As it was, pools of flaming, red lava poured into the huge wolfhound’s hostile eyes. To him, carrying a grudge was a badge of honor. Anger and survival was one and the same thing.
His master’s mood was no better. She glared down at the animal at her feet. Zenkak felt Chen’s rage and found the sheer depth of her dark spirit dangerously reassuring. He gave a low, threatening growl of approval. The hairs stood straight up on the other wolfhounds’ necks. They knew that for their pack leader being angry was a pleasure. It was something that he savored and enjoyed. Zenkak was a natural born killer. Chen was no better.
Aunt Glenitant had the misfortune of walking into this atmosphere of gloom and doom. At first, the old
witch liked it. That is until she became its target.
Chen stood up, walked over to her aunt and said, “Give me the sword.”
If the future could be collapsed backwards to a crucial, transforming moment that defined history, this was it.
“Come and take it,” Aunt Glenitant said, her voice dripping with venom.
Chen advanced on her aunt with a total disregard for anything other than getting her hands on Crystal. Glenitant was a very frail, thin woman dressed in a drab, gray robe, but when she drew Crystal from her scabbard a malignant evil leapt out of the dark sword. The two women facing each other had embraced hatred for most of their lives, and it was in their blood, but Crystal was worse than both of them put together.
As the dark sword arced out of its scabbard much of the light from the roaring fire was sucked from the air. Its warmth turned to a coldness that pervaded the room. The darkness seemed to be alive. It poured itself onto the ceiling, over the walls and onto the floor. Chen felt evil rising in the room. She felt it covering her feet, then her ankles, and then it crept up her legs.
The evil was so dark, deep and all pervasive that it even seemed to surround itself in its own cloak of darkness. Darkness within darkness. Evil cloaked in evil.
For the first time in a long while, Chen felt fear. Her reaction was instantaneous. She attacked that which she feared.
As she made a headlong rush towards her aunt, Chen drew her own sword. It wasn’t magical, however a woman who cared for little else but herself wielded it. Her selfishness gave her strength and focus.
Glenitant had thought Crystal would defend her personally, but she was wrong. There is nothing good in anything truly evil. A dark spirit feeds even on those whom it favors and draws closest to itself. And so, brimming with excitement, Crystal said, “Hey girls, let’s have some fun!”
Caught up in the moment, Crystal forgot that she loved Chen. All the dark sword could see was an opportunity to use two people consumed with anger and spite. For Crystal, there was nothing like inflicting a deeply disturbing experience on some deserving victim. In this case, she had two of them, and Crystal couldn’t have been happier.
Chen swung her sword at Glenitant with all her might. But the dark sword easily parried the blow and countered by hitting Chen with a powerful energy surge hurling her across the room. The dark sword wasn’t taking sides, Crystal simply wanted time to arrange the fight on her terms.
“Put me down, Glenitant,” the dark sword commanded.
“What?” Glenitant asked in surprise.
“Put me down.”
“No!” Glenitant said alarmed at the prospect of facing Chen by herself.
Realizing the old witch would never let go of her, Crystal began growing heavier and heavier until the dark sword weighed over 100 pounds. At that point, Glenitant had no choice but to let the sword fall to the floor. Glaring down at her traitorous weapon, the old witch asked, “Now what am I supposed to do?”
“Use one of the swords hanging on the wall,” Crystal told her.
On the far side of the room, feeling a bit bruised and shaken, Chen scrambled back onto her feet. Glenitant shuddered while watching her executioner slowly and deliberately coming closer as if stalking her prey. Then, to the old witch’s surprise, Chen stopped in the middle of the great hall wearing a shocked expression.
Glenitant quickly became equally shocked when a wave of energy emanating from the dark sword swamped the old witch flooding her body and making her feel stronger and younger than she had in years. Examining her arms, legs and waist, Glenitant realized that she didn’t just feel young, she was young.
“I thought I’d make this a fair fight,” Crystal said.
Twirling her sword in her hand, Chen circled her adversary sizing up her aunt who was now around her own age. Then blood lust filled both of the women, and they leapt at each other swords flailing. Glenitant felt the joy of battle once more. It had been so long. It was as if a long, lost lover had returned.
Glenitant swung her weapon at her niece’s head, but Chen ducked, pivoted on one foot and kicked her aunt squarely in the chest knocking her back against a table. Instantly taking the hilt of her sword in both hands, Chen swung her weapon high over her head bringing it down with such force that the warrior woman might have cut her aunt in two if Glenitant hadn’t jumped to the right dodging the blow.
Chen’s sword cut deeply into the wooden table, so deeply that when the warrior woman tried to free it, the blade wouldn’t budge no matter how hard she tugged. Seizing this opportunity, Glenitant struck with blinding speed, forcing Chen to drop to the floor. What saved the warrior woman’s life was the wooden bench next to her. The tip of Aunt Glenitant’s sword sliced into the wood almost splitting the board, but not quite. As Glenitant yanked her sword free, her niece rolled under a table trying to get away. Auntie, unable to recall the last time she’d fought this well, was thrilled with her newfound youth.
Running to the wall closest to her and sizing up the weapons display, Chen chose a double-bladed axe. The warrior woman swung the axe while spinning around in a circle cutting through the air, and she kept letting the weight of the axe pull her. Chen twirled around faster and faster building momentum. To stop the spinning, Chen held onto the axe tightly while letting it fly high over her head and bringing it down hard onto the black crystal floor biting into it and sending sparks flying.
Glancing at the young woman halfway across the room, Chen smiled, no longer recognizing her. The warrior woman had forgotten it was her aunt. Entering a state of unknowing, a state of being free of conscious thought, Chen even forgot her own identity. She no longer knew her own name. Locked in a fight to the death, her life was stripped down to the fundamental basics of skill and speed. Only if she survived and rejoined the ranks of the living would her name and personal identity matter. Until then, thoughts were an extra step in the fighting process that she could ill afford. But being totally blank like an artist’s white canvas, nothing stood in the way of spontaneous action.
Flowing with deadly creativity, Chen turned fighting into an art form.
Feeling inspired, the warrior woman spun around, sprinted towards Glenitant swinging her double-bladed axe over her head and bringing it down forcefully at her petrified aunt who, once again, barely sidestepped the attack. Deflecting the axe with her sword, Aunt Glenitant felt a sharp pain in her wrist as the sword was knocked out of her hand and went spinning across the polished floor.
Now it was Glenitant’s turn to run to a weapons display, and she selected a lance. It was a long wooden pole with a razor sharp bayonet on the end. She and Chen circled each other once more. Glenitant poked the weapon at her niece seeking a weakness and found it. She could make repeated thrusts while Chen was unable to swing her heavy axe fast enough to constantly fend off the lance. Glenitant’s weapon found its mark piercing Chen’s thigh.
Glenitant twisted the lance and shoved it deeper into the wound. Chen looked down and saw her own blood. It had a nice, bright color to it, Chen thought always ready to pay herself a compliment deserved or otherwise.
Forgetting about life and death, Chen analyzed the situation in an instant. Glenitant was taking too much satisfaction in her momentary success, focusing only on her lance and the wound in Chen’s thigh. It was a deadly mistake. Chen exploited it.
Never underestimating your enemy is an axiom of war Chen always remembered. And what Glenitant underestimated was Chen’s ability to accept pain. Great pain.
Chen inherited her tolerance from her mother, who died some years ago, but had gifted her daughter with a capacity to accept a high level of discomfort.
The young warrior woman recalled a story about her birth and how her mother had gone into labor without telling anyone and continued working about her chambers until almost fully dilated. When Chen’s mother finally informed her maidservants of her situation, she only had to push six times before her daughter came into the world. Her mother was up and walking around only four hours a
fter giving birth. Chen being born premature with life hanging in the balance had sent adrenaline pumping though her mother’s system causing her to pace the halls. But the baby girl fought back from the brink of death and had been fighting ever since.
When only ten years old, one of Chen’s teachers had told her mother that she’d never before seen so much anger in a girl this young. To which Chen’s mother had responded, “It runs in the family.” And it did.
As Chen looked at the lance stuck in her thigh, she figured it couldn’t hurt as much as childbirth. So, gritting her teeth, she took a knife out of a boot and threw it at Glenitant catching her in the left shoulder. Her aunt dropped the lance, and Chen yanked it out of her leg. Then with surprising agility for someone having a gash in one leg, Chen jumped at her aunt pushing the knife deeper into her shoulder. Next, hauling back a rock-hard fist, Chen punched Glenitant in the face breaking her nose.
Grimacing a little, Chen stuck her fingers into her own wound to staunch the flow of blood. And she paused for a moment, thinking about a young woman who had once been a member of her personal guard. This warrior woman believed in the superiority of females in battle declaring that after experiencing childbirth, there was little else a woman had to fear.
None of the women in Chen’s personal guard had children at that point, but the argument made sense. A sword or a lance cutting into one’s body makes a smaller wound than an eight-pound child ripping through a woman’s flesh, so men simply weren’t as prepared as women to face pain. Chen’s friend had never tired of making the point, badgering and baiting the castle guards over the issue.
I miss that girl, Chen thought wistfully. I wonder where Corson is now?
The black leather panther, which is what Chen most resembled when angry, turned her attention back to Glenitant who had succeeded in pulling the knife out of her shoulder without fainting.
