“Alvi get back!” Roth roared, darting forward and snatching her back to the ledge.
Scarlett light bathed the valley walls as the clouds above opened once more. She wasn’t ready. The Hatefire was upon them. Alvani cried out, throwing her hands up as she shoved more Passion into her shield.
Cole, however, was ready. With Varka’s cape whispering hints, he dismissed his Rage and donned his Passion. Slapping his hands against the pearlescent shield, he infused it with his own Passion, strengthening it.
Screaming, the tower of Hatefire collided with the shield. The drain on Cole’s Passion was immediate and rapid. He held on with everything he had, but it wasn’t enough. Under the blinding fire he saw Chiron and Eliza raising their arms, bolstering the shield with their Passion. The load lifted from Cole, but after a few seconds he could feel their Passion faltering as well. As though it had only been toying with them, the tornado intensified, becoming a solid beam of fiery Hatred.
The shield vanished without warning, though so did the Hatefire. Great freezing drops of black rain smacked to Cole’s naked skin, weighing him down with Despair. His heart broke when he saw the rest of his unit similarly affected. Even the elders had their backs bent by the weight of it. The significance of their failure was now painfully obvious to him. Every fat drop of the tainted oil battered his hope and showered him with regret.
Talin’s head rolled back in laughter, only the sound that came was not meant for living ears. Helpless and soaked, Cole fell to his knees as the hellish noise filled him from the inside, overwhelming his senses. He felt himself sinking and slipping into every terrible memory he ever had. He scrambled desperately for the calming center of his mind, but the evil ramblings clouded and blocked his every thought. He was in the embrace of a god.
Weeping on all fours, Cole dared a glance at the others. Each of his unit was prone, possibly dead. The oily liquid flowed and bubbled up their bodies, covering them from head to toe. Flowing from the entire valley, the black tar converged on the ledge, as if drawn to its new victims. Seeing the others succumb to the evil magic ignited a modicum of Cole’s Rage, just enough for him to rise drunkenly to his feet. Chiron and Roth were the only ones still standing. Alvani joined them after wobbling herself upright. Each of the elders maintained a barrier on their skin, keeping the oil from touching them.
Another bolt of crimson lightning flared. Needing no further encouragement, Roth dove for Sorronis.
“Rothael!” Chiron reached for him, but it was too late.
Before Roth’s munisica met their target, thousands of ropey strands shot from the surrounding tar, wrapping him in place as surely as a fly in a spider’s web. Roth thrashed, but the strands bent and stretched with him, halting his progress. His emerald wings erupted from his broad back, slicing through the black web as he spun on the spot. More strands joined the fray and broken fibers found new holds.
Chiron’s hands became a blur as ribbons of flame shot from his fingertips, sailing and wrapping around Roth. When it became apparent the sticky substance wouldn’t catch, the fiery ribbons became snakes of white ice, biting and freezing at the muck.
Roth bellowed through the web. “Don’t waste your time on me! Put a blade to the bastard!”
Changing course, Chiron dismissed the snakes and floated from the ledge. His barrier stretched to a large orb as he levitated towards Sorronis. In each of his hands the sapphire energy gathered in thrumming lumps.
“Leave the boy, Sorronis,” Chiron said, halting over the bony bridge. “You can’t win against us. Despair and Hatred hold no sway over Rage and Wisdom.”
With a roar, Roth threw off the black web, shoving it away with a blast of Wisdom. He stretched his own barrier in a wide orb like Chiron’s, joining him on the bone bridge. Their defiance in the face of Despair sent a surge of Rage burning through Cole. It caught like wildfire, searing the rancid magic as the shroud enveloped him once more in a Master’s Rage. The Despair would have no hold over him either. Rejuvenated, Cole joined Roth and Chiron. His munisica twitched, itching for an outlet.
Sorronis gazed through Talin’s single smoking eye. Billowing smog poured from his mouth as the otherworldly sound keened louder, rising and falling in wailing laughter.
Cole gripped his Rage, wielding it like an ancient weapon. He could feel the haunting laughter echoing in the weaker parts of his mind, threatening to shake them loose and drag them into sickening Despair. His Rage bellowed in return, shattering Sorronis’s taint from his mind as his Wisdom blew a cleansing breeze. Cole withdrew his Passion to his center, protecting it.
“You can’t survive our wrath, hopeless one.” Roth dismissed his shield. The black rain sizzled and evaporated before it ever touched his skin. Even the creeping tar fled from the heat of his Rage. “Give us the boy and maybe we’ll kill you quicker.”
Talin’s head rolled from side to side as Sorronis’s laughter warped into a banshee’s wail. The shrieking vibrated the rain and shook boulders loose from the valley wall. Above them the sky cracked with bloody light as another tower of Hatefire descended. An electric green shaft of light rose to meet it.
Cole turned to see Alvani grunting with bladed hands over her head, a beam of jade Wisdom pouring up from her munisica.
The Hatefire bifurcated and rolled harmlessly around them, striking the mountain of chosen corpses before fizzling away.
Alvani whipped her clawed hands to her sides, screaming at the top of her lungs, “DO IT CHIRON. CAST HIM DOWN!”
Resignation fell over Chiron’s face as he raised his energy-laden hands to Sorronis. The god keened horribly as the bundle on Talin’s shoulder began to rustle and kick. The destructive sapphire magic swelled as Chiron readied the spells for release. The muscles in his arms tensed, but then Chiron paused, his head tilting slightly as his eyes sharpened. He lowered his glowing hands a fraction of an inch.
From behind the Harbinger, another figure strode out onto the bridge. He wore a suit of scarlet, the same cut as Talin’s. The man strode out with a lazy grace, taking in the scene with a look of utter boredom. He was taller than Talin, and carried himself with lazy confidence, entirely underwhelmed by the chaos before him. Cole had a sickening suspicion that he already knew this man.
“There’s nothing left of your Talin.” The man’s voice was derisive and clever, speaking through a smirk that accentuated the odd wrinkles on his face. “Hello, Dark Ones.”
Confusion shook within the iron walls of Cole’s Rage. “Habbad!”
“I told you I would never forgive you, Cole,” Habbad said, hefting a black leather suitcase in his hands. With a lazy flick he summoned a green crystal table and set the suitcase upon it. “You promised me we would save Lexy. You failed of course, but it was necessary. Your failure was the catalyst that transformed both Lexy and me. To this day she serves Sorronis, just as I serve Grotton.”
Sorronis raised Talin’s free arm as the bone nest gave way to a thick appendage made from hundreds of arms and legs. The arm bent and curled, bringing forth the charred body of an impossibly small girl wearing a soiled dress. Lexy hung before Cole’s face. Her unseeing eyes blazed with Hatred as her burnt voice hissed with Despair. Her crisped fingers reached for him, as her little voice fumed with murderous intent.
Cole threw himself into his Rage before the sight could shake him. The creature before him was no longer Lexy, just as the man in the red suit was no longer Habbad.
“Grotton’s taking Underkin for Harbingers now?” Roth laughed. “The King of Hunger must be losing his touch.”
Habbad licked his tongue over his teeth, scowling. “Grotton has yet to grace Aeneria with a Harbinger. Though after I give him the remaining two Unbound and their Passion-whore, I’m sure he’ll crown me as his champion.”
“You know not of what you speak, child.” Alvani readied her own destructive magic in her munisica. “You sorely overestimate yourself if you think you will be more than a trifle to us. Not even Sorronis can hope to match us.”<
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“I don’t mean to match you. I don’t need to.” Habbad pulled a dusty grey feather from his sleeve, stroking it over the leather case. The case snapped open and three ebony needles floated from its depths. They were as long as Habbad’s arm, and danced about his head as if they had a mind of their own. The needles kept darting for the elders, only to be yanked back by a waggle of Habbad’s index finger. He grinned, seeing the revulsion on Chiron’s face. “You know what these are, don’t you?”
“You must be desperate indeed to parlay with the Cold Crows,” Chiron said. Roth and Alvani perked up at the name, eyes widening in alarm. “To whom do the pithing shards belong?”
Habbad’s grin darkened. “They belong to you of course. One for each of you.”
There was a crack as each of the needles broke free from their bonds and shot across the bridge. Faster than thought, Chiron whipped his arms up as the Azure orbs in his hands widened into a broad slab, forming a thick shield. The shards passed through the magic unfazed. Each one found its home, piercing through Alvani’s glowing hands, Roth’s munisica, and Chiron’s fading spell.
Cole watched helplessly as the needles buried themselves in each of the elder’s chests. Their spells flickered and munisica faded as their bodies went limp, leaving the scene in quiet darkness as Chiron’s white light vanished. As if waiting for the moment, the sticky black tar shot from the surrounding rocks, holding their bodies in midair. The elders didn’t appear dead, but something was very wrong. Each of their faces drooped with hopelessness and their eyes scanned that which no one else could see. Roth’s shroud receded entirely as his Rage failed him.
Cole’s own Rage demanded that he dive for Habbad and rip him to pieces, though his Wisdom held him in place. There was no telling what Habbad was capable of.
“I’m sorry Cole, but I don’t have one for you. I guess you aren’t as important as we thought.” Habbad strode forward and pushed Lexy aside. She lashed out with little fists as she disappeared back into the floating island of Chosen. “They’re not dead, not yet anyway. Wouldn’t want to spoil my gifts for Grotton.” Habbad closed his eyes as snarling thunder echoed from the sky above. “Ah, yes. The Lord of Hunger arrives at last.”
Cole leaped back onto the ledge, careful not to land on his unit, who all lay prone and still. The sticky rain had crept up over their bodies, covering them in black tar. Above him the bloody clouds split, revealing a speckled starscape and something immense descending to greet them.
A snarling swarm of rust fell into the valley, swirling into a thin spire as it quickened. Habbad raised his arms and threw his head back. “Come to me Grotton! Take your Harbinger and bring Hunger back to Aeneria!”
Cole backed away to the valley wall. If that thing really was Grotton then his Rage would spell certain death for everyone here. But he couldn’t relinquish it, he needed the shroud to protect him from the oily rain. He had to think of something quick.
The ruddy essence of Grotton charged like a runaway locomotive. Cole felt naked and exposed, as if he were a field mouse at the mercy of a winged predator. The rusty mass halted above the ledge, bobbing back and forth as if it couldn’t make up its mind. Cole dared not move, hoping it wouldn’t sense his ripe Rage. He watched Grotton’s churning mass with unblinking eyes, realizing the cloud was actually made of thousands, if not millions of tiny faceless mouths. Each one had a bundle of teeth the color of orange mold, which they used to tear and eat each other. A tendril broke free from the swarm, inching closer to Habbad.
“Grotton, I embrace your Hunger,” Habbad cried, grinning from ear to ear.
The tendril shivered and recoiled, as if stung by something cold. It wormed its way away from Habbad, toward the elders.
Habbad’s face twisted, desperate and confused. “No, no, no, I’m right here! Take me now!”
The rusty arm poked its way curiously over Roth. A few of the tiny mouths jumped free and set themselves on his bare skin, drawing blood and a breathless moan from the Bonebreaker. The orange cloud ceased its roiling as the tendril took greater interest in Roth. It tickled its way up his neck, reaching the corner of his lip. Without warning, the cloud shot for Roth as the tendril surged down his throat. The swarm howled as it took on the sole purpose of getting its entire mass within Roth’s body.
“NO! IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE ME!” Habbad wept, falling to his knees. “AFTER EVERYTHING I DID FOR YOU! YOU PROMISED ME!”
Roth’s belly swelled to fantastic proportions as the last of Grotton forced its way into his mouth. Steam rose from his skin in a whining hiss as his stomach began to recede.
Habbad gathered himself, rising with a handful of fire bubbling between his fingers. The magic swelled as he aimed it for Roth.
A bolt of Hatefire screamed through the air and smote Habbad in the chest, sending him spinning like a toy over the bone bridge to the valley floor. Sorronis uttered a haunting moan, ignoring all else as he walked Talin’s body over to Roth’s, his free arm outstretched as if embracing a forgotten lover.
The Bonebreaker thrashed, becoming more coherent as the strands of tar fell from him. Roth’s naked feet met the bridge as he stood swaying. Chiron stirred as well, eyes finally returning to the present.
Chiron’s head flopped to face Roth, his voice feeble and hollow: “Rothael.”
Roth gripped his hands over his stomach, which was now as large as the whole of his body. “Chiron, he has me. Get them out of here.”
Chiron uttered a rasping groan. “I’m afraid I can’t.”
Roth strained, his munisica flaring and receding repeatedly. He grimaced as he found Alvani, bound and barely breathing. He looked back to Chiron, face heavy with defeat. “We were fools, weren’t we?”
Chiron gave him a shaky smile. “Of course we were.”
Roth let out a grating chuckle before doubling over. He landed on all fours upon the bone bridge, munisica snapping wide as he roared. Sorronis crouched, rubbing Roth’s back encouragingly.
Chiron’s head rolled towards Cole, peering at him with heavy lids. Maintaining his Rage, Cole took a step towards his Master, unsure of what to do.
Chiron’s ancient song strummed into Cole. A weak smile stretched over the elder’s face as he spoke a single word into Cole’s mind: “Varka.”
“I can’t!” Cole pleaded as Chiron’s song began to fade. “Master I can’t do this alone! Fight it! Stay with me!”
Chiron’s lips parted, looking as if he were about to speak. His eyes snapped wide, suddenly clear and lucid. Bolstered, Cole took a step towards his Master, only to be halted by a blast of Wisdom. There was a loud crack and a puff of emerald smoke, and Chiron was gone. The strands of black tar searched the open air where his body had been.
Cole took another step. His Rage screamed louder, demanding action. His Wisdom scanned for an answer, anything that might present even a hint of help, but none came. His instincts took hold, melding with his Rage. Inaction would kill him more quickly than anything else. Roth was still fighting Grotton, but he wasn’t gone just yet. That left only Sorronis. Grasping his Master’s Rage, he threw a leg back and kicked off the valley wall as hard as he could, shooting off like a bullet.
The impact with which his munisica met Talin’s body would have shattered any known material, though somehow Talin’s body held fast. Cole and the Harbinger tore from the bridge out into open air. Cole dug his claws in, squeezing Talin with all his might, ignoring the muffled cries that came from the bundle of rags. When the force of his impact carried them as far as it would, Cole commanded his Wisdom to fly them farther still. Varka’s cape snapped over his back, bending the magic to the perfect tune for Cole’s mind. The air rippled and exploded around them as they accelerated beyond the speed of sound. Cole crushed Talin with enough force to cut through Morthainian glass, though somehow the Harbinger’s flesh remained whole and hard. Cole urged his Wisdom on, aiming to take Sorronis as far from Grotton as possible. He might stand a chance against one god, but two was out of the question
. Roth would make an unstoppable nightmare of a Harbinger.
Cole’s Rage demanded more, so he gave it more. They were out of the valley and over the ocean, far enough from anyone he cared about. He also acknowledged a savage part of him wanted to see what he was really capable off. Giving Talin one more fruitless squeeze, he roared as he cast both him and Sorronis towards a small rocky island.
Cole stopped himself in midair as Talin struck the stone with the force of a small bomb. Cole let himself freefall to the island, scanning the hail of debris. His munisica crashed into a boulder, sending a shower of sparks and chips flying. He leaped from rock to rock towards Talin’s crater. He wouldn’t give Sorronis a second to recover.
Cole dropped into the crater, which was twice as deep as he was tall. Thick dust filled the briny air, obscuring his view. His ears pricked as a rustling came in the crater’s center. Cole summoned a gust of wind, clearing the dust away. Black fist-sized rocks undulated at the bottom of the hole. Cole leaped once more, clearing the debris with raking swipes of his ebony blades.
A crimson hand shot from the loose rocks, snatching Cole by the wrist. The fingers elongated and sharpened into wicked claws as they crackled with sparks of Hatefire. The hand crushed and tugged. Cole yanked but the claws wouldn’t break. They hurt.
A head covered in ruby bladed hair emerged from the rubble. Sorronis blazed with a world of Hatred through Talin’s fiery eye. Cole balled his free hand into a massive spiked club, bringing it down on Talin’s head with a hammer blow.
The air between them broke with a thunderous report, sending Cole flying away in a cascade of broken rocks. He steadied himself midflight, completing an awkward backflip before crashing onto solid rock.
Sorronis emerged from the crater, his short steps making much more noise than they ought to. The suit had been torn from most of Talin’s body, exposing a blood-red shroud that covered every inch of his skin. His hands and feet were of the same color, only they were warped into munisica twice the size of Cole’s. The bundle of rags he carried had somehow survived the trauma. It kicked and smoked as it squealed in agony. Cole was somehow wearier of the bundle’s contents than the approaching Harbinger.
Saving The Dark Side Book 2: The Harbingers Page 49
