“Don’t bring me back to this dungeon when it’s over,” she said.
“That’s easy. I promise to bring you someplace safe,” Angst said. “Go on.”
“Be my champion,” she said, raising her chin royally.
He hesitated. Victoria had never asked, but like an unspoken agreement, Angst had always assumed he would become the queen’s champion. Victoria would be distraught and furious if he promised to be someone else’s champion. Her feelings wouldn’t be hurt if she didn’t hear him lie. Reaching out with his mind, Angst sensed a mass of armor and bodies approaching fast—Victoria and his friends probably amongst them. They weren’t here yet, and he was desperate for Alloria’s help. With a sigh, he finally agreed. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll champion you. Is that it?”
“Tell me you love me,” she said, looking at him like that crazy neighbor who owned way too many cats.
This one made him take a step back. That wasn’t anything he’d ever lied about. Just how badly did he need her help? “I’ll be your champion,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Traitor,” Victoria said from the top of the stairs.
Angst spun around. A dozen guards flanked her, but worse than that, Dallow stood to her left and Rose to her right. The look of hurt on Tori’s face stabbed his heart, as if this was his last chance to make it right. And maybe it was. Everyone else looked at him like he was as crazy and dangerous as Alloria. They waited at the top of the steps.
“Quit looking at me like that. I’m no traitor,” he snapped at his friends. “I let you see my future, Tori. You know what I’m planning. I’m going to fix all of it.”
“Your choices at Prendere could also split Ehrde in half,” Victoria said, her voice quivering with worry. “I’ve seen that future of death and chaos. The risk is too high. I can’t let that happen.”
“You’ve got to believe in me,” he pleaded. “I can do this. I can set everything right.”
“I believe in you,” Alloria said. She leaned against him, placing a hand on his chest.
“Shut up,” Angst and Victoria said.
“The war’s over,” Victoria said, raising her hands to hold off the soldiers gathering behind her. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that your family and friend are gone, but there’s nothing you can do—”
“The war isn’t over,” he shouted. The anxiety that typically gnawed at his belly took a bite between his shoulders. The pinch made him wince, and his head jerked to one side.
Now they really were all looking at him like he’d gone mad. And maybe he had, but it was too late to stop. Tori held her arms out like she was holding back the tide. Rose pushed past and drew the twin blades of her foci, Jormbrinder.
“I think we could stop you,” Dallow called out. “I may not be Al’eyrn—”
“I don’t think I am either,” Angst said. “Not anymore.”
Rose and Dallow glanced at each other. Dallow’s eyes went white, and he began muttering something in Acratic.
“Stand down,” Victoria shouted.
“There’s too much at risk if he escapes,” Rose said, her face flushed and her voice strained.
“You said you would be my champion until he’s ready,” Victoria snapped. “That means you do as I say.”
Rose crouched low, ready to leap at Angst and Alloria.
“Please, Angst. I’ll offer you anything to stay,” Tori said. “What do you want?”
“I want my family back,” he said, choking down his grief. “I want Hector and Faeoris back.”
“That’s not possible,” Dallow said.
“It is. We both know that’s possible at Prendere,” Angst said. “I’ll set it all right, and I’ll get them back. All of them.”
“Please don’t do this,” Victoria said. “It’s wrong.”
“I’ve been doing it wrong this whole time. That’s why everyone keeps dying,” Angst tried to explain, unable to keep the desperation out of his voice. “This is the only way. I have to go back and fix it. I have no choice!”
“No,” Dallow said. “Angst, you’ll destroy Ehrde, or you’ll die, or both. We’ve talked about this.”
“We’ve got to leave,” Angst said under his breath to Alloria. “Will you help me?”
“Say it,” Alloria said haughtily. “Say you love me.”
His heart sank. It would be a betrayal to utter those words. He’d only said them to maybe a dozen people in his life, and she hadn’t been one of them. He hated her for trying to kill Victoria. Out of desperation, she’d attempted to kill Rose and Dallow too. It was wrong, but there was no time to argue. Saying those words felt like another sacrifice, but what would one more cost him?
Angst turned to face her. He looked into Alloria’s eyes and said, “I love you.”
“No,” Victoria said with a gasp.
“Take me wherever you want, honey,” she said, planting a kiss on his cheek.
“Don’t do this,” Victoria cried.
“It’s the only way,” Angst said. He reached out with both hands, grasped at the air in the room, and pulled.
Victoria, the guards, and his friends all clutched their throats as he drew air from their lungs. He didn’t want to kill them, just steal enough so they would pass out. The accusing look in Tori’s eyes was heartbreaking, but shouldn’t she have known better? She’d seen his future and known this could happen. She’d trusted him too much. Guilt washed over him as everyone collapsed to their knees—everyone but Rose.
“You forget, old man,” she said with a determined glare. “I’m Al’eyrn now.”
“I didn’t forget,” he said. “Old friend.”
“We aren’t friends,” she shouted. “Not if you’re doing this.”
Rose blurred toward him. There was a loud crack as he anchored her foot to the stone floor. She screamed and slammed hard against the prison floor, the daggers flying from her hands.
“Gross,” Alloria said at the bone jutting out near Rose’s ankle.
“It’s a bad break, but she’ll only be down for a few minutes,” he said, releasing Rose. “Deep breath like you’re jumping in a lake. You won’t like this. I don’t.”
“I hate you,” Rose shouted, rocking back and forth, clutching her foot.
“So do I,” he said before nodding at Alloria.
She took a deep breath and pinched her nose. Rose glared at him, and he tried his best to apologize with his eyes. Hers didn’t forgive. With a gasp, he wrapped his arm around Alloria and, just as his gamlin had taught him, they dove into the ground like it was water.
2
Tarness waited in the ice cave, staring at the enormous burlap sack he had dragged for miles. He asked himself the same questions every day. How deep in was he? Could he still use this situation to help his friends? Was it even possible to escape this trap?
After six months with the Nordruaut, Tarness had come to only one conclusion: he hated the cold now more than ever. He despised the “summer” in northern Nordruaut even more than Unsel winters. The cold was as relentless and tiring as Angst’s flirting. Maarja had assured him that southern Nordruaut was warm enough for farming. He’d playfully argued that they must be farming icicles. She hadn’t found that funny, another reminder that he hadn’t quite grasped Nordruaut humor. But it was so cold he felt bad for those crops they’d planted. If he’d been a seed in that field, he would’ve lived just to spread himself on a southern wind.
Despite the cold, he enjoyed being in the company of Nordruaut. They liked big meals with generous amounts of cold ale, and they were an efficient people who left nothing to waste—even their attitude toward sex was a little too practical, as if the cold had numbed most of their passion. At the same time, he couldn’t complain about quantity over quality. Maarja was voracious, and now more than ever, he needed that link to his humanity.
There was still much about them he didn’t understand. Their jokes, their drive, and their internal struggle to be hunters or warriors. They took all of it in a matter-of-fact
stride that was slowly methodical and more evenly paced than he’d ever experienced. It always surprised him how inclusive they were. They seemed to trust him implicitly, which often left him with deep pangs of guilt.
Seven months ago, Tarness had died. He’d helped save his friends Hector, Dallow, and Rose by tossing them like ragdolls into a mage city just before the doorway shut. After telling Hector to thank Angst for the adventure, he was alone, in a blizzard, at night without Dallow’s protective shield. Tarness had collapsed to the snowy ground and leaned against the barrier that separated him from his friends. The inevitable didn’t take long. He remembered all of it too clearly.
The fear of facing Death had rushed through him and was gone, leaving him ready for whatever came next. He’d done the right thing, something heroic. As the Nordruaut would say, it was a good death. But when time stopped, it wasn’t Death who came to visit.
“Freezing is a terrible way to die,” said a man in a high-pitched, nasally voice. “Almost as bad as drowning.”
Tarness forced his eyes open to see the blurry image of a tall, awkward-looking man. He hovered over an unmoving blizzard. An aura of gray light surrounding him, purging color like graymowl trees.
It took a moment to realize that the painful battering of sleet had stopped. He could breathe, and the freezing air didn’t burn his lungs. Not only had feeling returned to Tarness’s fingers and toes, but all of his pains had been washed away. What would that cost him? No one had the power to stop a storm as if holding firm the hands of a clock. No human could do that and take away his pain at the same time, not even Angst.
“Magic,” Tarness said with a grunt.
“Vivek,” the ageless man corrected, his eyes peering. “Or Dark Vivek, if it frightens you more.”
“Sure.” Tarness shook his head.
“I’m surprised you recognized me,” the man said. “You’re smarter than your friends give you credit for.”
“Sometimes, but not always,” he said with a sigh. “What do you want? I’m trying to die here.”
“You’re doing a fine job,” Magic said, brushing snow off his sleeves. “I’m here to keep that from happening.”
“Like I said, what do you want?” he asked.
“I can keep you alive,” the man said. “But I need your help.”
“I won’t betray Angst,” Tarness said firmly.
For barely the tick of a clock, the onslaught of raw blizzard and the madness of dying returned. All that numbing pain closed in like a sheet of darkness, and then it was gone. His heart raced with fear and he took a stammering breath.
“Well?” Magic asked.
Tarness stood, dusted off what snow he could, and stepped forward until he was within head-butting distance. “Is that it?”
“What?” Magic asked, incredulous.
“I was already dying,” he explained. “Continuing to die isn’t exactly a threat.”
Magic’s eyes went wide, and he stomped several times in a tantrum. Tarness barked out a laugh. He wished his friends were here to enjoy the scene.
“Humans are so frustrating,” Magic said.
“Feeling’s mutual,” Tarness said defiantly.
The Dark Vivek eyed him up and down before taking a deep breath and letting it out with a sigh. Dusky circles under Magic’s eyes and shadows along his cheeks made the element seem tired.
“As I said,” Tarness frowned and jabbed a finger at Magic’s chest, “I won’t betray Angst.”
“Will you betray Unsel?” Magic asked, staring down at the threatening finger. “What about Ehrde?”
“What are you talking about?” he asked.
“Will you allow one man to destroy Ehrde?” Magic asked. “Even Angst?”
“Of course not,” Tarness said.
“Angst is going to break Ehrde in half,” Magic said, pushing Tarness’s hand away. “You’re his best friend. You may be the only one who can stop him.”
Magic had to be lying. Angst would never harm Ehrde. All he’d ever wanted was to protect it. But Aerella had said Angst would go crazy, and now that his friend had bonded to two foci, who knew what he would do? His friend needed help now more than ever—something a dead Tarness would be unable to do.
“I don’t believe you,” Tarness said, staring at the morsel of hope. “But I won’t let Angst, or anyone, destroy Ehrde.”
“Then take this ring,” Magic said, a ruby ring in his outstretched hand, “and you will live to protect those you love.”
“Fine,” Tarness said, swallowing back the bitter taste of bile and self-reproach. He grabbed the ring and placed it on his finger.
“Excellent,” Magic said, placing it on his finger. “Because you will be Ehrde’s last line of defense. You could save everyone.”
He didn’t feel like the ‘last line of defense’ with a frozen bag of body parts at his feet. Anger, frustration, and guilt were his unfortunate sources of strength. That power was enough to forge his way through the cold and complete Magic’s tasks. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to escape this trap.
Alone, surrounded by glassy ice, he tugged at the ring for the hundredth time—literally the hundredth time; he had counted, desperately hoping there was some magic behind that number.
“That still won’t work,” Magic said. “I won’t let anyone I save remove their ring again. Not after Alloria gave hers to Angst. You know this.”
“Yeah,” Tarness said in frustration. “But I’ll still try.”
“I thought you wanted a foci to yourself,” Magic said. “So you could be a hero, like Angst.”
“What?” Tarness asked.
“Consider it a poor man’s foci,” Magic said. “Which is appropriate, since I gather you’re poor.”
“If it’s a foci,” Tarness said, “why can’t I use it to kill you?”
“Maybe you aren’t the man Angst is,” Magic said, peering at him. “Ooh, did I hit a sore spot?”
“Maybe,” Tarness said, doing his best to let the slight roll off. It hit a few bumps along the way. “But I like being Tarness, I like Angst being Angst, and you’re not good at making foci. If you were, I’d have killed you with it already.”
“No, I can’t make foci like the Mendahir,” Magic said with a grimace. “But I can imbue an item with enough power to keep you alive. Without it, you will complete your visit with Death.”
“So you’ve told me,” Tarness said. “But making foci isn’t the only thing you’re bad at, is it?”
“What do you mean?” Magic said. His browless frown was more than little creepy.
“All your plans fall through. All of them,” Tarness said, calmly. “Even these rings don’t work like they’re supposed to, or Angst wouldn’t have saved Alloria. You’re a crappy element.”
Magic’s eyes flashed black, and dark clouds formed around his hands. Light from the cave vibrated as the element took a deep breath. Tarness’s stomach churned as he closed his eyes and stuck out his chest.
“Kill me and end this,” Tarness said. “Fuel Angst’s anger, so when you do battle, he makes it hurt that much more. I’ll rest easier in death.”
There was a fizzle, and a pop, and a sigh that made Tarness open his eyes. Magic shook his head and lowered his hands.
“In the beginning, I always won,” Magic said. He waved his hands and muttered something until the cave was gone.
They stood in an enormous grassy field surrounded by mountains. Animals unlike any Tarness had ever seen roamed freely in peace. Giant white butterflies danced in the sky, swooping down to touch unicorn horns with their antennae feelers before soaring up. Schools of flying, golden fish swarmed around silver dragons as if polishing them. There were rainbows without rain, blue trees that grew on floating islands, and pinpricks of light that made his eyelids heavy. It was all a beautiful madness.
“Every two thousand years, it was either Water or me,” Magic said. “When I won, my Ehrde was a world of beauty, with creatures you couldn’t imagine. Some so beautiful
, you would go insane just to look at them for more than a glimpse.”
“I don’t see any humans,” Tarness said.
“Exactly,” Magic said, waving his arms until the scene was gone. “There were no humans in my Ehrde. No place for them. I didn’t create them, nor have I ever dealt with them, until Angst.”
“That’s why you hate us,” Tarness said.
“Hate you?” Magic asked in surprise. “I don’t hate you. I just don’t get you. No matter how hard I try to understand or fit in, humans don’t make sense. My Ehrde is a sensual portrait that’s a reflection of me. Your Ehrde is a wooden bucket of smelly children, muddy dogs, and fried chicken. They are nothing alike. I’m not a bad element. I’m a bad human.”
Tarness struggled as his well-structured common sense was tossed aside by the dawn of creation and other stuff. “What do you want from us, from me?”
“The winning element receives one wish, for lack of a better term, at the end of every battle,” Magic said. “And that prize is given to the winner at a place we refer to as Prendere. But it’s more than just a wish—it’s a cornerstone of creation. If a human…if Angst were to acquire that gift or accidentally let someone else acquire it, the consequences could be devastating. Angst could inadvertently destroy Ehrde, or split it asunder, or turn it into mead.”
“Or save all humans from the element’s agendas for the next two thousand years,” Tarness retorted, even if he didn’t quite feel it.
“It’s possible,” Magic said. “But despite his bravado, Angst isn’t an element. Which is probably a good thing. From what I’ve learned, his Ehrde would contain nothing but beautiful women.”
“And they’d all have large breasts,” Tarness said, laughing.
“I’ve tried something with you that I’ve tried with no other human, ever,” Magic said.
Tarness looked at him quizzically.
“Reason,” Magic said.
“Why?” Tarness asked.
“As I’ve said, I don’t understand humans, and I don’t necessarily like them,” Magic said. “But I don’t hate them. I don’t even hate Angst. I’m just afraid of what he’ll do.”
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