It isn’t long after I continue on my path that I begin running into more bands of warriors, many of them locked in fierce combat with groups of demons. I help where I can, jumping into the fray and wielding the Grandmaster’s Sword, but always I urge them to fall back to the Conclave and set up a perimeter there.
The work of marshalling the troops doesn’t take long. As soon as officers see my efforts, they take to joining me, fanning out in all directions to recall every soldier and citizen they can find.
True to the words of the retreating Nightingales, I soon stumble across balors wreaking havoc across the city. They reduce entire buildings to rubble and clear the way for more troops to get through. Eventually, it gets to a point where I too need to retreat, falling back to the Conclave and the rest of the gathered military of Tarsynium.
So few now remain, I think to myself dejectedly as I once again approach the towers. It seems that now, we only have a fraction of what we started the siege with.
By my estimations, only a few hundred defenders remain to protect the thousands of citizens huddling in the midst of the towers. The Nightingales, rangers and knights have set up a hasty perimeter along with the mages, but it is nothing spectacular.
I doubt it would even hold for an hour.
Suppressing my anguish, I hold my head high as I approach the outer ring of troops. They all dip their heads in deference upon seeing me.
These people need a leader, I think, noticing their forlorn expressions. They know they are about to die. The least I can do is try to lift their spirits.
Taking a deep breath, I open my mouth not really knowing what I should say.
“Soldiers of Dunmar City and Tarsys,” I begin, addressing them all and lifting my voice high. “Men and women of Tarsynium, hear my words. Today, we stand not as Nightingale or kingsman, ranger or mage, but as one – one people, one host, one army. We fight for our families and our children, for our very lives and everything that we hold dear.”
The air is silent as I speak, every man, woman and child hanging on my words. It is a strange feeling, speaking to the crowd. I know that not everybody in the Conclave can hear me, but for those within earshot, my paltry speech seems to have something of an effect.
Hope begins to glimmer in their eyes.
I continue, pacing before them. “The R’Laar will not allow us to surrender. They will give us no quarter. Their mission is to kill every last human on this world and drain it of its resources. It’s what their kind does.” Pausing, I take a breath and raise the Grandmaster’s Sword into the air. “But that doesn’t mean that we have to lie down. It doesn’t mean that we give up. We can fight to our last breath and make them pay for every drop of human blood that is shed!”
A handful of soldiers let out a ragged cheer, but the rest simply remain silent.
“Never give up, defenders of Tarsynium. Never surrender. Fight, and the Light itself will fight with you!”
With that, I turn to face what will likely be our last fight, hoping that at least some of the troops have been emboldened by my words.
Demons have already begun to emerge from the broken buildings and streets converging on our location. A sea of glowing eyes looks hungrily back at me, the gorgons, darkhounds, hook horrors and other monstrosities forming ranks on the street directly across from the Conclave. It is a motley assortment, a fearsome array of creatures thirsting for our blood, but for some odd reason I feel nothing but peace.
If this is to be our end, then it will be an end worth remembering.
The soldiers around me shuffle nervously, their shields up and their weapons held ready. No archers shoot at the demons and no mages cast fire.
It feels as if the entire city is holding its breath.
The R’Laar halt on the other side of the street, waiting as if for an order to attack. There are hundreds of them, thousands even. They seem to have completely filled the city to capacity.
Suddenly, their ranks begin to part, admitting a single demon to step out into the street and face us. He is a large gorgon, taller than any other I have seen, and he is decorated from neck to foot in black, spiked armor, a massive ebony sword held in his hands. His skin is a milky white and his dark horns curve up like an enormous crown. Red eyes like glowing embers sweep over the crowd and his mouth turns up into a hateful sneer.
Asmodeus, the Prince of Darkness himself, has come to deal the final blow.
“Tremble before me, puny mortals,” he booms, his deep voice echoing off the high stone towers. “The time of your salvation has come at last!”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Zara
Oh, Light! This is it!
I reach for my source crystal and immediately begin channeling, pulling in energy and uttering the words of power. “Darian magna va!”
A large radiant shield materializes in the mouth of the tunnel, shimmering like a wall of light and preventing the rest of the darkhounds from coming through. “Owyn!” I call through gritted teeth as I work on holding the spell. “I need you!”
To my side, the darkhound that had killed Stefan lashes out with its claws, clipping Sira in the leg and sending her tumbling to the ground, screaming.
“Taflegryn golau!” Vargus bellows, shooting a radiant beam at the demon and blowing a hole right through its middle.
Sira pushes herself to her feet, choking back a sob.
Owyn races to my side, bow in hand and arrow nocked. “Hells,” he curses, glancing down at Stefan’s bleeding corpse. “We must have missed something in our search. I’m so sorry, Zara.”
“Don’t worry about that,” I reply, still straining to maintain my shield. “Right now, we need to focus on keeping them out so that we can prepare the spell.”
He grunts and motions for the wastelanders. They come immediately to his side, weapons ready.
“With Stefan gone, we are going to be hard-pressed to channel enough power to create the artifice,” I continue, squeezing my eyes shut against the stress. “That means we need you to hold them back alone. Can you do that?”
He sets his jaw and nods in determination. “We’ll do our best.”
“Good. Let me know when you are ready.”
The four of them jump into action immediately, rushing to find a large boulder and then rolling it in front of the tunnel entrance. It does not cover the entire opening, but it still presents a major obstacle for anything trying to get through.
Once the boulder is in place, they back away and prepare their weapons, the youths hefting spears and Owyn drawing his bow.
“Ready,” he says, aiming down the shaft of his arrow.
I release the spell and let the source energy drain out of me, the wall of light flickering and then completely fading from existence. The darkhounds, teeth bared, jump at the narrow opening at the top of the boulder, trying desperately to claw their way through.
Owyn releases his arrow, catching one of the beasts in the eye while the wastelanders stab up with their spears, prodding the darkhounds back into their tunnel.
Letting out a long, tired breath, I turn back to the other mages, who are gathering near the source crystal and deferring to Vargus’ leadership.
“My fellow mages,” he declares, source crystal glowing in his hand, “the time has now come for us to complete our mission. We have done all we can to prepare ourselves – Seeker, we now look to you to get us going.”
Every eye turns to regard me as the mages look to be directed. Some of them carry themselves with emotionless stoicism, while others appear visibly shaken. Mostly, though, the air seems thick with apprehension, the unknown looming before us like the specter of death itself.
Steeling myself, I put my mind to the task at hand. “First, we must cast spells to stabilize the crystal so that it doesn’t fracture in our attempts to create the artifice. Then, each of us must channel as much source energy as we can possibly hold – push ourselves to the edge of our very limits. When we feel that we are ready, we must then link ourselves
together to combine our power. We’ll only have one shot at this – one mistake could spell disaster. Once the link is formed, I will place my hand on the source crystal and speak the words of the spell. At that time, it should start to glow red. Once this occurs, the bond has been formed. We can retreat to a safe distance and detonate the bomb. Any questions?”
I look around, but everyone shakes their head. They’ve heard this plan before. They know what to expect.
“Alright,” I say at length, feeling my stomach start to twist in anxiety. “Let’s get started.”
Several of the mages, those most adept at casting protective warding spells, begin stabilizing the great source crystal with words of power. Their spells shimmer around the crystal, causing the air around it to bend as if with tremendous heat.
Then, with everything in place, we begin to channel.
Each of us pulls out our talismans and begins the process of filling ourselves with source energy. I can feel the power course throughout my entire body, surging from the top of my head down to the very tips of my toes. It feels exhilarating and terrifying all at once, the raw energy rushing through my veins like streams of lightning, making my skin prickle all over with goosebumps.
At the edge of the cavern, Owyn and the wastelanders continue to fight off the darkhounds. They stab and they thrust with their spears, poking the beasts back into their hole from behind the boulder. Several of the darkhounds manage to get their claws through, taking deserpate swipes at the defenders, but none of their attacks are effective.
For the moment, the threat seems to be contained.
The amount of source energy within me begins to feel painful, and I can tell that I have almost reached my limit. Judging by the consternation on the faces of many of the mages, I can tell that they are experiencing the same thing.
With the bond, we’ll be able to combine all of our might, I think to myself, sweat beginning to bead on my forehead. I doubt any of us have ever felt such power before – Light, please bless that it does not overwhelm us.
“Okay,” I command, my voice tight from the exertion, “when you are ready, begin making the bond. Clasp hands with the mage nearest to you and form a circle!”
The mages begin to slowly close in around the crystal, reaching out and taking each other’s hands as soon as they are ready.
I am about to head over and join hands with my fellow mages, when an unexpected noise ruins my concentration. It sounds like wood snapping and a painful yelp, and when I turn to investigate, I can see that a darkhound has come from yet another tunnel. The demon has been caught in one of Kanik’s traps, the metal teeth of a mining tool biting into its leg, but behind it, I can make out the shapes of many more glowing red eyes.
“Owyn!” I cry, refocusing my magic. “Behind us!”
My husband turns and curses, leaving the wastelanders to keep holding the boulder while he goes to put down this latest treat.
“Fos lasair!”
Magefyre leaps from my fingertips and shoots into the second tunnel, igniting the darkhounds within in a fiery conflagration of blue light. The beasts howl and whimper, turning and fleeing in the other direction, but I know that it is only a matter of time before they are back.
Light – they’re going to overwhelm us!
“You go back to the mages,” he says, coming up to my side, bow raised. “I’ll take care of the darkhounds.”
“Are you going to be alright?” I ask, wincing as my head begins to throb.
“Of course,” he replies with a crooked grin. “It’s what I do.”
Nodding, I return my focus to the source crystal and the mages gathering around it. All but Vargus have joined hands, their eyes closed with concentration as the air around them ripples with raw power.
“We must hurry!” Vargus urges as I approach. “Some of them are on the verge of collapse!”
Sure enough, several of the mages, particularly the most elderly among us, look shaky and pale as they stand there, hands linked with their colleagues. The strain of holding so much source energy appears to be taking its toll.
Without replying, I begin pulling in more power, filling myself to capacity as quickly as I can. The rush is both exhilarating and nauseating, my stomach twisting in knots as my heart begins to flutter. Finally, when I feel that I cannot wait any longer, I grab Vargus’ hand and take my place at the front of the chain. The amount of source energy being channeled is overpowering – the strength of it almost obscene. As my skin touches his, I feel that I could obliterate an entire city with a single word, the raw strength of the combined mages greater than anything I have ever experienced before.
Focus, Zara! Now is not the time to go mad with power!
Gritting my teeth, I shuffle toward the source crystal, the other mages following my lead.
The sound of fighting fades into the distance behind me – all I can hear is the constant thrum of energy pulsing in my ears.
Reaching out my free hand, I place it on the smooth surface of the crystal and enter a sort of trance, a strange, alien sensation completely washing over me. My awareness grows, blooming within my mind and expanding to the size of the entire cosmos.
In an instant, I can literally feel the stones around me, the plants and the continents and the seas of the world seemingly at my fingertips. It is awe-inspiring and terrifying all at once, a personal connection to the whole of Byhalya forming within my soul. Unlike the Heart of Light, this pillar of source crystal, tall and unbroken, is connected to the very bones of the earth, a physical manifestation of the magic that created everything in existence. Touching it while holding this much source energy is like touching creation itself, a conduit opening up in our minds and spanning the width and breadth of eternity.
Around me, mages cry out in pain, many of them retching on themselves or on the floor of the cavern from the shock. They cannot bear the majesty of our connection with the crystal, but I pay their suffering little mind.
All I can do is marvel at my newfound understanding.
It is wondrous. It is beautiful.
It is perfection.
“Zara,” Vargus croaks to my side. “You must... cast the spell! Do not... let it consume you...”
His words are like a faint echo, distant and easy to ignore, but something deep within me struggles against the overpowering sensation emanating from the crystal. It screams for me to do the right thing. You must speak the words! Everyone is depending on you! Do it now!
Finally, almost painfully, I murmur the words of the spell, my voice sounding quiet in my own ears. “Cuir a-steach a ‘chlach seo le cumhachdan sònraichte. Thoir dhomh an cumhachd seo. Tionndaidh an uidheam seo a-steach do bhoma. Sgriong mo naimhdean.”
As the words roll off my tongue, the source crystal begins to darken, fading from a deep blue to an angry, violent red. When the spell is complete, the whole mine seems to be coated in blood, the swirling patterns of light almost intoxicating.
Using every ounce of self-control I possess, I scream and tear my hand away from the crystal, severing the connection and finally releasing my tenuous grasp of the source energy. This causes all of the mages around me to collapse, their limp figures falling to the ground like rag dolls.
A wave of dizziness overcomes me and I drop to my knees, squeezing my eyes shut and trying desperately not to pass out.
I almost lost myself for a moment, I think, fighting back the urge to vomit. I almost jeopardized everything...
The nausea soon passes and I open my eyes, finding several of the other mages getting shakily to their feet.
“Did it work?” Sira asks, her hair askew and her face streaked with tears.
I glance over at the source crystal and shiver. “Yes,” I reply hoarsely, pushing myself to a standing position. “Yes, it worked.”
Several of the mages remain on the ground – whether unconscious or dead I don’t know – but the rest begin muttering to each another in astonished tones, some even offering prayers to the Light.
The call from Owyn shakes me out of my daze and forces me to look over to where he and the wastelanders fight desperately on the far side of the chamber. Yari and Vas have both abandoned the partially-blocked tunnel to help Owyn fend off the darkhounds pouring out of the second one. More than a dozen of the beasts lay dead at their feet, but they still seem to be losing ground.
“Zara! We can’t hold off much longer!”
Cursing, I leap into action, picking my talisman from off the ground and motioning for the mages to follow my lead. “We need to get out of here!” I cry, ignoring my pounding headache. “Come on! We mustn’t wait any longer!”
Vargus, Sira and the others begin sluggishly trying to wake the mages laying prone on the ground. None of them respond to their proddings.
The thought of leaving them behind tears at my heart, but the rational part of me realizes that there is no other way. “Leave them!” I shout, forcibly grabbing Sira by the arm and pulling her away from stiff form of Edith. “We are about to be overrun! Come on! Let’s go!”
“She’s right,” Vargus says, shaking his head tiredly. “We need to get out of here now!”
Owyn buries his hatchet into the skull of one of the darkhounds, then glances over his shoulder at us. “To the back tunnel! We’ll follow you!”
With that, we begin frantically making our way to the exit, leaving those who had fallen behind. Owyn and the others begin inching their way in our direction as well, a flood of darkhounds following in their wake. With no one defending the boulder, the demons easily push it aside, and even more begin coming through, their growling barks echoing throughout the cavernous mine like a deafening chorus.
A few of the mages, those who still have the energy to channel, lob fireballs and bolts of energy at the darkhounds as they flee, killing some but not many.
Their numbers are just too great.
Light almighty, I think as the first of the mages begin making their way into the tunnel. There’s so many of them!
As Owyn and the others close the distance between us, fighting off demons as they go, Vas unexpectedly trips and falls screaming to the ground, the darkhounds tearing him apart limb from limb. It is a horrible sight, but one that I cannot dwell on. The only thing in my mind is making sure Owyn gets back to me safe.
Prince of Darkness Page 27
