by Keri Salyers
I bucked up my courage, intent on finding my standings in this raw deal. “You think I will be your slave because of this?”
“You? Never,” Invyrchal said, tucking his arms around his chest in a very human gesture. “The others who have flocked to your banner though? I can feel your concern for their safety. I could use them against you, you know. It would be sooo easy.”
Ian blinked into existence, his strange eyes confused. “Zofeya?”
“You can have him if you wish. I see it in your eyes that perhaps Sarkkrai brutes are not your only weakness.”
“Leave him alone, Invyrchal. He has nothing to do with this.”
“He doesn’t? You think I allowed him to come with you because he has nothing to do with this? He will be a viable source of power when you need it. Through him you can achieve more but,” he chuckled, beckoning Ian forward. “At what cost? Mages are so fragile inside. The more you rely on his strength, the closer he comes to the insanity that claims all of his kind. I will push you. You will rely on him and… you will end up costing him his life. You won’t care though, once you fully accept that you belong to me, with me. His paltry life will end and with it, any thought of otherwise.”
“If that’s what you think I will do, you are wrong. Dead wrong. I don’t rely on others; I rely on myself.” I lifted my chin in pride.
“Do you? Should I prove to you how much you have been relying on me by taking away my gifts permanently? If I did, you would have no choice but to rely on your… friends. All of them would put their lives on the line if it meant stopping me from destroying an entire civilization, those fools. Harbingers can be burned, Zarhsha beheaded, Sarkkrai eviscerated and quartered, mages driven insane. It would be very… fascinating to see, really. Their powers expand beyond their capability, their minds snap, they unleash chaos on everything. They’re aware of everything but just can’t help themselves. Very engaging. Would you like to witness that? Or perhaps you would appreciate something else from our fine gentleman?”
With an offhanded wave, Invyrchal called forth a twisted winged creature. In a blink of an eye, the creature leapt and knocked Ian off his feet, landing him hard on the ground. From nowhere, it pulled two daggers and began, to my horror, stabbing the mage in the chest. Over and over, up and down. Futilely Ian swiped at the creature, to knock it off him but his hands passed through it like smoke. His body spasmed with each wild stab. He screamed till his voice was hoarse with pain and blood. I watched as the thing discarded the daggers and began to dig into the mage’s chest with its claws. Visceral sounds tore from his throat as he writhed, pinned to the floor.
Death is an ugly and brutal thing to see. There is no tempo change to the dramatic background music. The heroine does not flutter her long perfect eyelashes and put a frail hand to her painted mouth. The shining knight doesn’t arrive in the nick of time to save the day. The credits do not roll, releasing you from the spell and allowing you to breathe once again.
In a moment’s time, I saw a man die. A man who had begun to become important to me. He died like no one should ever die. Not him. Not like that. My eyes burned; I turned on Invyrchal. Screw his rules and screw him. He would pay!
“Like that. Just like that. You will stand there helpless and one by one they will die. Before you make a rash decision, perhaps you should look again.” I did. Ian was gone. There was no blood, no body. “Your friends are as you left them—not where—but still hale and whole. I’ve tasked them with something. Hope you don’t mind.”
“Tasked them with what?”
“Oh, just a little mission of sorts. I had them run ahead but they will need you to catch up soon. Without you…well, let’s just say they don’t stand a chance.”
That got my attention. “What did you do?”
“Ever hear of a grelban?” I shook my head negative. “They’re constructs. Spirits pulled from the abyss for one last taste of life. They are only given a few minutes before the cycle begins. To prolong the time they’re given, they must feed off the misery and suffering of those around them. Devouring these essences causes them to evolve, speeding up their life cycle, driving them to want more and more. At their peak, they are ferocious. At death’s door, they are unpredictable, erratic. Then,” Invyrchal smiled. “Boom.”
“How long?”
“I’d say about an hour. If you can send it back to Lehiras, you can save a whole city block.”
“A portal? You want me to draw on you to send it to Lehiras?” I questioned.
“Now you’re getting it.” That smile went devious. His eyes of flame slit. “Calling a portal will be very costly if you do not use all the other resources around you. All of them.”
“You are setting me up to fail, yet offering me advice at the same time. What kind of sick game is this?”
“I am in no hurry to claim you. The mage will succumb to what all mages eventually do. Your son will perish in battle as all his ilk do, after committing patricide and ridding me of that unpredictable problem. Your human allies will age and die. The Zarhsha will lose their allegiance with the Pelthocians and retreat back into their seclusion. That will leave only you and me. Eventually, you will come to me.”
I knew all that, but to hear it so plainly put… hurt. They would die. The people I’d come to care about—I did care, there was no denying now—they would all perish. But it would not be because of me. No way. He could limit my powers, curtail my strength, but I was still me. I would always be Darkest Despair—no, I would always be Zofeya Aldridge—and I don’t back down.
Invyrchal took something from his pocket and tossed it at me. I caught it out of instinct. It was a phone.
“I just love the technology here,” he said. “I’ll text you if I need you.” Invyrchal walked back to the desk and picked at the plate of drizzled fruit slices. He’d text me? I looked down at the screen. It suddenly popped up a message. “Did I not mention there’s a time limit?” it read. I get texts from gods, beat that…
When I looked back up, Invyrchal was gone. The office was gone. I was standing on a roof. Was it the roof of Hashida Securities Inc? I wasn’t sure. Pacing to the edge, I put my hands on the low wall and looked over. Night clutched Rutherford tight but just like every metropolis, there was still traffic, still lights and life. There were no large-scale explosions or sirens that one might expect a grelban would attract.
But there was a mage of whom I had a link to. Perhaps not an ideal link but it was something to go on. I was about to leap onto the side of the wall, crouch down dramatically like you see in the movies and employ my “otherworldly senses”, then I remembered I was wearing a costly and rather restrictive gown. But that’s why there are wings, right?
Standing up atop the wall, the wind messing my hair, I purposefully Looked for Ianarius Nalach. I was not sure how to look, where to look or even if standing on a skyscraper would give me any kind of benefit. Closing my eyes, I thought of his—the myriad of purples and blues, the stray swirl of yellow and orange. He didn’t like them, that much was obvious, but I… I sorta did. When you’ve seen what I’ve seen, done what I’ve done, it will take more than a pretty face to turn your head. You already know my fancies lean toward the… different, the dark, the… powerful. I am not easily impressed. But Ian? He was impressive. For all his stodginess, his odd habits and his insufferable self-control… he was a good man. I met so few of those.
Did I feel something toward the north or was it my imagination?
I thought back to that embarrassing rejection at the party. Maybe he just wasn’t interested? I was not a decent person in Lehiras. I only had a handful of days to prove I was otherwise now to someone I had once likened to a boot-licking crony. Maybe…
“They aren’t—were never—special to me. I’d rather our first ti—”
Maybe I was just a bloody idiot who thought too much about herself to shut up for a damn minute and listen to others! From the north, I felt a hint of something. I focused on that direction, seeking out the c
onnection and like a zap of electricity, I felt it. Fear.
~*~*~*~
CHAPTER 12
Even under the stress of the moment, I kept it together enough to not revert to my true form. I was too big, too noticeable. My wings, however, were the only way of getting there without drawing on—I still can’t believe it—a god’s power. Across the roofs, over alleyways and the occasional street, I headed back toward Cedar River. Darkness was a boon, masking my path, but what if someone looked up? What if a group of someones looked up? I had spent a decade hiding who I was so that I could safely and peaceably reside here.
I paused and realigned. Ian was casting; I could feel his concentration. Devi would be with him, I hoped. And Cen. Aw, crap Eleanor. Would they remember to protect her if I wasn’t around? How in Blue Hells was I in the past ten years pretty much alone but now have a whole company of people embroiled in my life, neck-deep in this mess?
The streetlight revealed a vehicle that looked to have had something large land on top of it. The whole front passenger side was crushed. Lucky for us, the owners didn’t have an alarm and apparently the sound of crunching metal was not enough to get late-working Rutherfordians to look out their office windows. Lights were on in some windows, not all looked like the ones left on to keep away potential thieves. I hopped down from the wall, using my wings to slow my fall and inspected the wreckage.
Down the street, I heard a deep rumbling growl followed by a holler that sounded like Cenav. Yep, they’d found Invyrchal’s surprise alright. I ran.
They had contained the grelban in a small city park—good for them, thinking ahead—but it wouldn’t be contained for long. If it thrived off negative emotions like fear and despair; a big city like Rutherford would be a banquet. The grelban had Cen pinned beneath it but before I could gasp in terror, it was bowled off him by a blast from Ian. The mage’s left arm was bleeding but it didn’t appear to be slowing him down. Cen had removed his amulet and no longer looked human but the grelban was his size nearly exactly and steadily growing.
Grelbans were hard to describe as a whole since they never looked the same. Their appearance was based on necessity. They evolved in order to devour, to make their last moment count. In a fight versus a Sarkkrai, a Harbinger, a Pelthocian mage and me? This was going to get ugly. Or had it already? The grelban was looking like a nightmare mixture of scorpion, ape and buzzard. It had six multi-jointed legs, its heavy bulbous torso had long stringy tan hair and the head lacked any eyes, its face completely bald with a mouth that nearly split it in half.
“Mistress.” Devi appeared at my side while I was so caught up staring at the beast. I did not jump in startlement. I vehemently deny the accusation.
“I know how to defeat this thing but I am going to need everyone. Cen! Ian! Eleanor, you too, May The Fel Take It.”
Ianarius was holding off the beast with a shield spell but I felt a touch of relief bleed through our connection. He built up his energy and with a grunt, shoved the grelban off and smashed it under the shield spell like a bug. It clawed and snarled as it was forced a foot into the dirt on its stomach. Nifty spell but it wouldn’t last. In the mere seconds it took for the mage and my son to join me at my side, the grelban sprouted tentacles that began to suck at the spell holding it down like a leech.
“I did not want to leave your side. When you were suddenly gone from my sight—”
“Cen, it’s okay.”
“That fire-creature! I would not have left—”
“It’s okay! Invyrchal,” there was no way to say it but to just say it, “is a god. A Lehiras deity. Ian, this is how he could do what he did.”
The grelban roared, the claws on its front feet finding purchase as it sought to drag itself out from under the spell. Ian held out a hand, willing the spell to hold firm. The monster’s hard exoskeleton gave a sickening crunch but instead of stopping it, the exoskeleton molted. Spikes drove up into the spell, piercing it and allowing the questing tentacles inside.
“We don’t have time. My spell will not hold much longer.”
“It’s a grelban. It’s evolved to eat whatever energies you throw at it—spells, emotion, whatever it can get.”
“If Pelthocian magic will not suffice, then I will need a weapon,” Cen said, his hands clenching and unclenching.
“There’s more. It will keep eating and eating and once it’s full, we better not be anywhere near it because it’s going to explode.” My words had their effect. Two of us without weapons, two of us only able to feed the creature and a human.
“S-so no matter what we do, it’s going to explode and… and kill us all?” Eleanor squeaked out, eyes as big as saucers.
“No,” I said, as confidently as I could. “This thing only lives for about an hour but we are going to overload it—stuff its glutton face—to speed up its life then we are going to shove it through a portal.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re leaving something out?”
I looked at Ian. So astute. I ignored him. “We need to keep it in this park. Do whatever you must to keep it here. Cen, Devi, I need you two to jump in when you see the opportunity. Try to wear it down, injure it. Ian will cover you with spells. Eleanor—”
“I’m not leaving!”
“No, you are not. I need you to stay where we can all see you but stay out of harm’s way. Just by being here, you should be helping fill that things gullet.” I looked away from my determined house-sitter—no, my friend—and back to the grelban. It had gotten free and was eyeing us while it digested the last of its snack. “I will be providing the main course. When it’s time, I’ll call a portal and we shove its ass in!”
I had never needed to rally the troops or give speeches to the Sarkkrai forces but I think I did well. They mulled it over and to-a-one nodded agreement. Sure, I neglected to mention Invyrchal’s threat about drawing too much on him, or his having an impact on my magic at all but that wasn’t anyone’s concern but mine right? Girl has to have her secrets—especially when they are as crippling and devastating as mine.
Cenav jogged left, Ian to the right. My son looked as confident as he always did. This was merely another step in getting stronger, another step closer to confronting his father and taking the reins of their people. He would kill someone who was still—as much as he shouldn’t be—important to me. Perhaps even two. War was part of Sarkkrai philosophy. Cen would take that desire for conflict right to the Pelthocian door step; he would be confronting Ianarius Nalach that day, who would unequivocally be standing at the forefront.
Ian looked determined, his jaw was set and those strange swirling eyes of his were dark. Determined, but not without apprehension. The lion’s share of his trepidation was probably not even about his own safety. I wanted to reach out and touch that mind of his, sample those feelings—was some of that worry for me?—but I couldn’t resist tampering with his concentration.
Devi was watching me very carefully. Despite his lack of magic, his sense of perception was top notch. Then again he was a Harbinger. He knew I was hiding something, in a whole different way than Ian, but unlike the others Devi would never question me. “Be safe, Devi.”
The Harbinger inclined his head and turned away, already moving at a fast clip. Eleanor stepped up to my side, her white-knuckled hands clasped above her breasts. Unlike my other associates, she wasn’t trying to hide her fear. No, my friend in her pretty blue dress wore her fear right out there on her sleeve, so-to-speak.
The fight was on. My quick-moving assassin produced two long knives from his sleeves—silly me for not thinking he wouldn’t be armed—and charged in before the grelban could focus on just one of them. Cen, not to be outdone, circled around and made a grab for one of the insectoid legs. With a yank, he unbalanced the beast enough for Devi’s knives to find purchase in the grelban’s face and neck. It roared and shook them off, bulldozing into Devi with its heavy shoulder. The Harbinger’s place was filled by a shearing energy spell that burst up from the ground like spikes, th
e intense piercing sound almost as painful as the spark of light.
The spell bit through the beast’s plated chest as well as its jawbone, knocking segments of bone and teeth flying in a sickening spray. Cen had taken hold of one of its segmented limbs again, this time ripping it completely off.
The grelban screeched in pain and anger, its voice taking on a gurgling sound as blood from its facial wounds leaked into its mouth. My team was on their feet, hale and whole; I began to think Invyrchal had overstated its power.
And that’s when it proved me wrong. It’s back arched, its spine chunking up and widening into wicked spikes. The spine burst out from its hind end, becoming a lashing tail which it put to immediate use by knocking Cenav back and into a tree. With a wet shucking sound, its mangled jaw bone fell off and was replaced by a bisected maw that slavered a green liquid. It shook itself like a dog and the mess that Ian had made of its chest reknit. The leaking stump of its missing leg sealed and withered.
I was right; physical wasn’t going to be effective enough. As the beast scampered past the consecutive blasts sent by Ian, I centered my own energies. I sent out a tendril toward the grelban, testing. Unexpectedly, the moment it got close enough the beast latched onto it and sucked it up like linguini. Hungry bastard. For stabilities sake, I sank to the ground and placed my hands in my lap. It just wouldn’t do to get dizzy and fall on my ass right now.
The grass was cold and slightly moist. You owe me a dress, sparky. I steadied myself mentally and physically then I opened the floodgates. Screw that campfire! He can’t dictate how I run my life! If I have access to his great and all-powerful magics, let’s just see how much I can pull. This is my world and I would not be pushed around! I siphoned the energies, pooling them till just the right moment. When the grelban lost its footing, its hideous eyeless skull bouncing off the sod, I threw out the hook. It snatched at it greedily. Cenav had an improvisational weapon made of a bench pole; Devi timed his own strikes in between the Sarkkrai’s heavy slower swings.
