The Nesilia's War Trilogy: (Buried Goddess Saga Box Set: Books 4-6)

by Rhett C. Bruno

  Whitney shook his head. “We just got her back. Find another way.”

  “There’s no other way,” Kazimir said. “Not without one of the mystics.”

  “Then we go back to the tower,” Whitney said matter-of-factly. “We take her back there, and make one of the mystics help.”

  “There’s no time for that,” Teryngal said. “Look around you!”

  The place was a war zone. Dead bodies were piled everywhere, upyr scattered among them, bodies steaming, headless, or hearts cut out. Grimaurs, goblins, dire wolves, Drav Cra, it was as if all of Pantego’s most horrifying things had accompanied Nesilia. In confirmation of this notion, on the far end of the plateau, the air crackled with violent energy, tearing fragments of rock from the walls. Whitney thought he could see the shadows of people on the other side of it.

  “The Lords give their essence so we can end this,” Teryngal said. “Surely, the life of one woman cannot compare. I will rip it out.”

  He bent over her, and Whitney pushed him away. Teryngal swore and went to retaliate, but surprisingly, Sigrid held him back before even Kazimir had to act.

  “Whit?” Her voice was weak, but it was Sora.

  “Sora! Sora, Sora, Sora.” As her eyes slowly flitted open Whitney kept repeating her name like it was the only word he knew. Whether or not he knew other words didn’t matter. He’d waited long enough to be able to speak to her, her name was as good a word as any.

  “Whit, what’s going on?” she asked.

  “Iam’s shog, Sora. Iam’s yigging shog.” He grabbed her and pulled her against his chest. She winced, and he lowered her.

  “Sora,” Kazimir said.

  She looked to him, and terror painted her features. She pushed herself away.

  “Sora, it’s okay,” Whitney said.

  “Like Elsewhere it is,” she spat. “What is he doing here? This is all his fault.”

  Kazimir lifted a placating hand. “And it’s a crime I’ve been punished for more times than I can count,” he said. “Now, we’re here to help.”

  Sora looked to Whitney.

  “It’s true,” he said. “Please, trust me.”

  Tum Tum appeared at his side, Lucindur’s unconscious body slung over his broad shoulder. “I didn’t believe it at first either, deary,” he said. “By Meungor, it’s really you.”

  “Tum Tum?” she said, but her eyes were drawn downward, following everyone's gaze. They widened as she regarded her blood-soaked chest. “This thing?” She tugged at the bar guai.

  “It’s okay,” Whitney said. “It’s all okay. We put that on you. I’ll explain later. I know this is a lot to take in, but I need you to trust me, and I need you to cooperate.”

  Sora continued to study the room, dumbfounded. Then, she spotted Aquira on the ground.

  “Aquira,” she said. She tried to move but couldn’t.

  Whitney rose and trotted to where the wyvern was knocked. He scooped her up, feeling her soft breath and warm scales, and returned to Sora.

  “Is she…”

  “No, she’s breathing,” Whitney said. “She—we all went through a lot to get you back.” He placed Aquira down next to Sora, then turned to Kazimir and said, “Let’s get that thing off.”

  “We are trying,” Kazimir assured him, busy studying it from every angle. Sigrid had now joined him in doing so.

  “Do you remember what happened to you?” Whitney asked Sora.

  She stammered. “I—Nesilia… she.”

  “We can reminisce when there isn’t a horde ready to slaughter us,” Teryngal said.

  Whitney rose and collared the upyr. “You have no idea what we’ve been through, you dead, heartless piece of shog. Six years!”

  “Unhand me, mortal filth,” Teryngal spat.

  “Whitney,” Kazimir said, giving his pant leg a tug. “Whitney, just calm down, and help me.”

  Whitney released Teryngal with a light shove that seemed to do nothing to the immortal being, then rejoined Kazimir on the stone floor.

  “Do you know how to remove the bar guai without destroying it?” Kazimir asked Sora.

  She shook her head.

  “We have to remove it,” Whitney told her, “but it can—” He stopped talking, a thought striking him like hot iron. “Healing… Sora, can you heal yourself? Like that farmer in Bridleton, can you?”

  She grimaced but fought through the pain. “Yes, but—”

  Whitney jostled her a bit, placing his hands beneath her shoulders. “We need to take it out. Kazimir can do it, but it’ll leave you bleeding. Bad. You can use that to heal yourself, right? Blood magic. Sacrifice power to get power, just like you told me.”

  “You listened?” she said, her smirk quickly fading. “I don’t know how much I can manage like this. I can feel her. She's still there, pushing back. My head… it…” She squeezed her eyelids and groaned.

  “Sora, please,” Whitney said. “Please, you’ve got to try.” He was begging her now, desperate to stop this madness and possibly have a normal life… with her.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Nesilia is trapped in there. We plan to—”

  “She’s in here?” Sora said, clawing at it again. Fear overcame her in full force. “Get it off. Now. I’ll do it. I’ll do anything. Get her away from me.”

  Kazimir leaned in closer. Whitney knew how intimidating the upyr must have looked to Sora who’d just spent so long cooped up in her own mind. His long, thin fingers and knife-like fingernails edged beneath the bar guai.

  “This is going to hurt,” he said. “A lot.”

  Sora took a shuddering breath. “Just do it.”

  Whitney grasped her hand and squeezed, more for him than her, he knew. She was always the brave one. Then, Tum Tum grabbed both their hands and held steady.

  “Ye’ll be okay,” he promised.

  “One,” Kazimir started. “Two…”

  “Wait!” Whitney said.

  “What is it, thief,” Kazimir said, eyeing him with concern.

  “Are you going to pull on three? Or after three?”

  Kazimir growled, looked knowingly at Sora and yanked. The bar guai tore from her chest, blood literally gushing out. She screamed, and the sound made Whitney's eyes water.

  Kazimir wasted no time with it in hand, standing and moving toward the cliff. Sigrid and Teryngal followed. The cavern shuddered, and some of the lightning crackled overhead. The veil of mist was breaking.

  Sora covered the wound with her hand, and her screams turned to muttering. Blue smoke rose from her chest and hand while flesh stretched, veins mended, and slowly, the wound began to close from her blood magic. Then she pulled her other hand from Whitney’s grip and set it atop the injury as well.

  Whitney didn’t know where to look. To see Sora in so much pain, it was almost unbearable for him to watch, but she needed him. However, Kazimir was about to banish Nesilia forever, using the very beings she’d apparently cursed long ago. A fitting end.

  Whitney decided to compromise, moving behind Sora’s head, holding her while watching Kazimir and Sigrid.

  Kazimir raised his hand to toss the bar guai into the wianu-infested waters when Whitney heard a zip-thunk followed by another. Kazimir faltered, swaying twice before turning. His face screwed up, and as he turned, Whitney saw an arrow piercing his back, the sharp blade poking through the center of his chest. Whitney followed his gaze to the Sanctum’s entrance leading to the Citadel.

  Another arrow soared by in the confusion, gashing Teryngal through the eye. The upyr dropped, his face boiling and bubbling. Steam rose, and he let out a moan that rivaled that of any beast in Pantego.

  “Ye didn’t think I’d just die, did ye?”

  Grisham “Gold Grin” Gale stood in the entryway nocking another arrow into his bow. His clothes were in tatters, his face gaunt and unshaven. He looked like he’d been through Elsewhere and back.

  It all happened so fast. Kazimir stumbled back, an arrow in his chest. His foot met the edge o
f the cliff, and rocks broke beneath his boot. He fell, but caught himself on the ledge with his elbows, still clutching the bar guai.

  “Kazzy!” Whitney shouted.

  “Maker!” Sigrid yelled. She grasped Kazimir by the wrist. They seemed to lock eyes for a moment. She grabbed his forearm, trying to lift him.

  “No,” Kazimir said. “Let me go.”

  “Maker, I can’t—”

  Just then a wianu breached the depths, and its tentacle lashed up, wrapping Kazimir's midsection. Sigrid resisted its pull for a moment, but the beast was exceptionally powerful. Kazimir’s eyes showed a hint of sadness that morphed to shock as the tentacle tore Kazimir in half and Sigrid lost her grip.

  “No!” someone screamed. It might have been Whitney, he didn’t know. He was overwhelmed by it all.

  The bar guai arched upward. Aquira let out a cry, conscious again, and darted for it, but she was too slow. The discs hit the ground, exploded and emitted a shockwave of force that sent Aquira skidding back toward Whitney.

  The wave of energy sent Sigrid staggering to the ground. She looked up toward Gold Grin and snarled, “I should have devoured ye when I had the chance.” She crawled forward, her hands scraping through the bar guai’s broken shards without care. Raw energy swirled all around them and through her. Her eyes flickered, and she stopped moving.

  “Silver-tipped arrows,” Gold Grin said, showing off the gilded teeth for which he was named. “Took ’em from me own ship you lot left floatin alone to be picked clean by any brigand. The Reba is always prepared! Ye never know when ye’ll need to slay an upyr.”

  Whitney looked back to the pirate king, stunned.

  Tum Tum laid Lucindur down. He glanced back and forth between Gold Grin and Kazimir, then cracked his knuckles.

  “Ye traitorous, no-good, rotten…” He continued like this as he stomped toward Gold Grin.

  “Ye know,” Gold Grin said, “I liked ye, dwarf. But our business is concluded.” Then he fired another arrow, and it caught Tum Tum in the shoulder.

  Tum Tum looked down in disbelief, swearing as blood seeped from the wound.

  Whitney was too confused and flustered to even process it all. They’d left Gold Grin to die, but for all his being a braggart, he truly was a pirate deserving of his renown.

  “Get away from the love of me life,” Gold Grin demanded. “Ye thought ye could leave and I wouldn’t find her? I’ll always find her. Stole a Panpingese fisherman’s ship after me traitorous crew untied me and followed ye right here. They didn’t get to come for the ride, but ye fools made it too easy.”

  Stepping down into the cavern, Gold Grin beheld Sora. Her chest still bled, but she’d managed to stem the worst of it and now clung to consciousness while Whitney held her tight.

  “By all the gods, me love. What have they done to ye?” Gold Grin asked. “Ye couldn’t handle her lovin me and decided to take her out, did ye Fierstown?”

  Tum Tum, still swearing, snapped off the arrow.

  “Aye, that’s it, ye big, ugly fruitcake,” Tum Tum said. He raised his warhammer overhead with both hands. He grimaced and groaned from the pain in his shoulder, but didn’t stop. Bringing the hammer back all the way, he launched it forward with all his dwarven strength.

  Gold Grin was too focused on Sora to see it coming. The weapon smashed into his chest and crushed the pirate king against the wall.

  Tum Tum then collapsed to one knee, clutching his wound.

  “Well, I didn’t expect that.” The voice was feminine and came from the general direction of where Kazimir had just been gruesomely murdered.

  Whitney turned toward Sigrid and the broken bar guai. The voice came from Sigrid’s lips but didn’t belong to Sigrid.

  “Nesilia,” Whitney whispered.

  The bar guai’s energy continued to swirl around her as she stood, gaze moving from side to side like she wasn’t sure how she’d gotten there.

  Licking blood from her lips, moaning sensually, she turned to Sora and said, “You foolish mortal. You could have been a goddess.”

  She stalked toward them, and Sora cringed. Whitney drew a dagger and held it toward the upyr, though, he knew it was no longer Sigrid. Her black, soulless eyes were no more, now they were something else altogether..

  “Get away from her!” he yelled, thrusting the dagger forward. Sigrid grabbed it, letting it slice through her flesh. Then, she pulled her hand away and watched as it healed. A grin straight out of Elsewhere spread across her face.

  “I think I’m going to like this,” she said. “Don’t resist, girl. I’ll show you exactly what you want. It starts with them.” She took one more step, and Whitney stabbed again, but the blade met only air as Sigrid suddenly vanished. He searched from side to side and saw her nowhere. He knew how fast the upyr could move, but he hadn't even seen a blur.

  “Where’d she go?” Sora asked.

  “I… I don't know,” Whitney answered, still looking around the room.

  “Whitney, we got to get out of here!” Tum Tum yelled.

  He rushed over and hefted Lucindur with one arm, fighting through the pain. He nodded toward the Sanguine Lords’ magical veil that had been protecting them, which was now gone. Nesilia’s followers were still slowly trickling out, as confused as anyone and without the will to fight any longer.

  The cavern continued to crumble, rocks smashing on the plateau and into the sea. The wianu remained in a frenzy, likely feeding on an upyr they’d despised for so long.

  “Nesilia, she—” Whitney began.

  The warlock, Freydis, called out, “Stop retreating, cowards!”

  “It doesn’t matter!” Tum Tum said. “We gotta go.”

  Whitney realized how right he was when a rock shattered only a few feet away. “Sora, get up!” He helped her to her feet, then scooped up Aquira and they limped toward the entry back into the Citadel.

  Whitney glanced down at Gold Grin, who was slumped against the wall with the hammer on top of him. He looked confused and scared, like he’d just woken from a nightmare.

  “What’d I do…?” he muttered.

  Whitney thought about stopping, helping him, making the pirate king join them. Gold Grin had been manipulated by Nesilia, after all. It wasn’t all his fault, was it? But Tum Tum shouted for Whitney to hurry, not even bothering to take his beloved hammer. With all their injuries, they had no spare arms to help the mad pirate king.

  “I’ll destroy all of you!” Freydis screamed behind them.

  Whitney left Gold Grin and helped Sora through the threshold and into the long tunnels toward the Citadel. A vine broke through the floor, grabbing his ankle. A moment of panic overcame him, and he saw and heard dire wolves snarling as they raced for the door. Sora bit her lip, then pushed free of Whitney and turned. Stretching her arms, she cracked her neck, then screamed. Fire leaped off her shaky fingers in a steady stream, melting the very stone around the door. It collapsed, closing them in and severing Freydis’s magic The vine shriveled and relinquished its grip on Whitney. The dire wolves barked and scratched at the other side, but for now, they were safe.

  Despite everything, Whitney couldn’t help but marvel at Sora’s abilities. “You’re back,” he said softly.

  “And we need to go,” she said.

  This time, she took his hand and pulled him along, seeming reenergized. He still needed to help her after a few strides, but he was certain: Sora was back.

  With Aquira cradled in his left arm, Sora holding his right, and Tum Tum just ahead of them with Lucindur over one shoulder, they fled back through the Citadel as fast as they could. Wianu cries echoed like mournful thunder, stone broke, and thousands of years of history crumbled all around them.

  Nesilia had survived due to Whitney’s mercy in not killing Gold Grin at the Red Tower. And the pirate king arrived just in time to end Kazimir for good, all because of Whitney’s decision to drop off Gentry and the others in Glinthaven. Because of him, the Dom Nohzi and their eternal lords were eternal no longer.r />
  But Sora was back.

  Sora was alive.

  XXXVII

  The Redeemer

  The inside of Rand’s mouth bled. As he listened to this Sir Lucas Danvels try and explain everything that had happened, he couldn’t help but chew at his gums and lips. All the lies and deception. He’d trusted Torsten more than anyone, and he’d lied straight to his face. Said his sister was dead. He’d lied, like Valin Tehr lied. Now, he had this young whelp of a Shieldsman lying, too.

  It seemed that in the exile his life had become, only the witch, Oleander, had been truthful. At least she’d been honest about what she was.

  “Sir Langley, are you listening to me?” Lucas asked.

  Rand bit deeper, the taste of iron fresh on his tongue. “I’m tired of listening.”

  “I was there. I saw her, or what Torsten said was her. I’m still not sure if he heard clearly. There was so much chaos when the upyr attacked. But her hair was white as snow. Her eyes were black. She looked Breklian, if anything.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Rand said. “Torsten lied.”

  “Not to him. If that really was her. If she’s an upyr now… then you must know, that to the Vigilant Eye, she is dead.”

  “She’s not dead if she’s walking!” Rand snapped.

  “Not alive either. I didn’t know your sister, but the woman I watched that day was a ruthless, savage killer. She took blood to her lips. I thought the stories told by soldiers around campfires were just that... stories. They’re not.”

  “I don’t care what either of you thinks she is. If she’s alive, then I must find her. I’ll get through to her.”

  Lucas slid closer to the bars. “Sir Langley, I studied all the texts on the upyr and Dom Nohzi in the Glass Castle, and even beyond. They place those tomes beside entries from ancient priests on demonic possessions, next to writings on the Culling and necromancy. Every single one of them says that once a person is kept from the afterlife and transformed into an upyr, they lose who they once were. Bloodlust overwhelms them.”

  “How?”

  “How what?”

  “How are they transformed?” Rand demanded.