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Thorns in Shadow

Page 25

by Sanan Kolva


  “No.” Lyan stumbled, falling to his knees. “Equinox is not yours.”

  “Look at me, Lyan, Stargazer of Heartshrine Village.”

  The power of the voice slammed him like a tempest. He could no more stop himself from obeying than he could bid the wind be still. Against his will, he raised his head and turned to face the stranger. His mind screamed for help, but no sound escaped his mouth. The stranger tilted up his hat brim. His eyes met Lyan’s. A gasp escaped Lyan, and even that sound cut short as he stared into the depths of madness.

  Chaotic colors swirled in eyes that had no white, no iris, no pupil. Somehow in that maelstrom, Lyan read anger, cruelty, pleasure in causing pain and torment. Cunning. Patience, and a temper poised to fly free at the slightest provocation.

  No. This isn’t possible. You’re sealed away.

  The stranger grinned wickedly. “I’m still imprisoned in the pit where the gods think they can hold me? For now. Only for now. But you, Lyan, you and your actions have brought the time of my release so much closer. And even the gods can’t prevent me from using the bodies of my willing followers.”

  Lyan couldn’t speak, only gasp for breath. How could you read the stars? There are no stars in your prison.

  The other’s smile darkened, growing savage. “I took the stars from you, and look at what lengths you went to have them back. Do you really think I would not find a way to regain them, even in the depths of my prison?!” He loomed over Lyan, then crouched down. “But soon, it won’t matter—I will be free. You can be on my side, or you stand in my path, and I will reclaim my Spear from your soulless corpse.”

  No. Terror held Lyan. He couldn’t turn away from the chaotic eyes, but he would not—dared not—bow. Equinox is not yours, and I will never serve you, Murdo.

  Neither the stranger’s smile nor tone changed. “You’ll regret those words, stargazer. Look to the heavens, and know the truth of what’s coming. Know what you, with your own hands, have begun. See, and know despair unlike anything you have felt before!” Within the mortal body, Murdo laughed. “Ah, and your friends… Yes, your friends.” His eyes narrowed. “Try to speak of this to anyone, to say anything of what you have seen, and your despair will be complete.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I give you the gift of knowledge, Lyan of Heartshrine Village, and the curse of despair.”

  Power coiled around Lyan, suffocating him. Gasping, he tried to call out, but still no sound escaped.

  Murdo’s possessed puppet never broke eye contact with Lyan. “Look to the sky, Spearbearer. See what will happen to your friends if you tell them what is to come—see what they will do, and how they will make their fates so much worse by their actions. Ah, but perhaps the stars themselves won’t tell you enough.” He touched Lyan’s face, spread fingers resting just below Lyan’s eyes. “You will see their fates.”

  Pain stabbed into Lyan’s skull like lightning bolts. He shuddered, but couldn’t pull away. His mouth opened in a silent scream as fire tore through his head and burned into his eyes.

  Fat droplets of blood splattered onto Murdo’s arm, and he hissed a profanity. He jerked back from Lyan and broke contact. Lyan slumped, struggling to understand Murdo’s words through the haze and agony.

  “I must cut our meeting short. This loyal minion has reached the limits of his endurance.” Murdo rose, lifting a hand to the body’s bleeding nose.

  Lyan lifted his head with an effort, bracing himself on hands and knees. Blood streamed from Murdo’s nose and trickled from the corners of his mouth. Flesh shriveled and darkened.

  Finally, Lyan found a whisper of a voice. “I will… find…”

  “This loyal follower?” Murdo finished for him. “No, you won’t. Or, if you do, it won’t do you any good.” The Mad God laughed as his borrowed body climbed onto a crenellation, and grinned wickedly. “Until we meet again, Spearbearer.” With a mocking bow, he stepped backwards, over the edge.

  Lyan dragged himself to the edge of the wall, but when he looked down, saw only darkness. A heartbeat later, the barrier surrounding him popped like a burst bubble. He tried to stand, but the effort was too much. He slid to the stone floor and awareness fled.

  o0o

  Someone shook Lyan’s shoulder, waking him. “Should have known I’d find you out here.”

  Lyan groaned, his head pounding like someone beat on it with a hammer. He tried to remember why, and a chill ran down his spine, but he couldn’t identify the cause of his terror. Like a dream, vague images slipped through memory, eluding attempts to gather them.

  He opened his eyes, and found Kithr smiling good-naturedly down at him. His friend held out a hand. “Sleeping under the stars when there are perfectly good beds?”

  The stars… Again, that chill sense of something terrible and wrong. Lyan looked at the sky, but dawn had chased away the stars. He accepted Kithr’s help up and wavered unsteadily. Leaning against a crenellation, Lyan looked down for reasons he couldn’t explain, only a fleeting memory of something or someone going over the edge. If anything lay among the far-distant rocks, the morning mist hid it from sight.

  “Are you all right, Lyan?”

  He opened his mouth, words on his lips. Then memory pushed into his awareness, and a lie slipped free, safer than the truth. “I think I drank too much last night.”

  Kithr nodded, sympathetic. “Well, there’s breakfast, if you think you can eat something.

  What happened last night? What did Murdo do to me?

  Lyan followed Kithr down the steps. He found no answers to his questions, but one certainty pressed into his mind, undeniable as the sun’s rise. This battle wasn’t over—it had just begun. Murdo moved closer to breaking free.

  And Lyan knew it was his fault.

  The End

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