Kirheen shrugged, her eyes shifting to the tall Orgol standing at her side. “I was on my way to find you when they snatched me off the streets. I remember what you told me about them, so I didn’t attack. They said they knew where you were. Samira, your chest…”
“Why are you in the city? Why aren’t you with the others?”
“Because when that temple blew up, I figured something had happened to you! The ship is wrecked. We’re stuck here and there were more soldiers heading towards the ship when I left.”
“We’ll help you,” said one of the Orgol. She stepped out of the group, her long strides bringing her before Samira. Her eyes were dark, a swirling mixture of blue and purple. There was a gentleness to her gaze, her eyes filled with a wisdom Samira had fought to protect. “You’ve returned. We’ve long awaited this day.” The Orgol spoke with a strange reverence that made Samira go cold.
“What do you mean?”
The Orgol tilted her head, her long braid swaying with the movement. “You fought for our freedom before. And now you return to free us again.”
“I-I…oh gods.” All those years the Orgol had been waiting for her to return, thinking that with her power she’d return and free them. Instead, she’d stayed hidden away on Sharmir, the Orgol only a distant thought in her mind. And now she was back, and the hopes of an entire people rested on her shoulders. “I’m so sorry… What is your name?”
The Orgol smiled, her eyes kind. “Shava. You hesitate. Perhaps you did not know. There are more important matters now though, aren’t there?”
Samira nodded. “Yes, Shava. There is a man in Korinth that would see harm come to those without powers. We must stop him. I swear to you, if I survive this, I will return to free your people.”
“We never doubted you. We’ve taken some action on our own, years of work done in secret, in silence. They think our kindness a weakness and so they do not look close enough to see.”
“To see what?”
Shava smiled, her eyes twinkling. She turned away from Samira, parting the Orgol to reveal a hole in the ground. “Tunnels. We’ve built tunnels. Years of work. We can get you close to the docks, right beneath their noses.”
“This is incredible. How did you all manage this?”
“We had a friend, Keha’ro. Young. Idealistic. He’s taught us so much, giving us some semblance of independence. There is a change happening in him though, a power growing. We can feel it, even now. He fled the city. You…if you can, please find him.”
Naree’na looked surprised. “I know him. He’s a good kid.”
Samira exchanged a glance with Kirheen. “Seems this might be who we’re looking for. Shava, we’ll find him, but we must leave now. Just keep your heads down. I don’t want any of you hurt for this.”
“We will. We’ll remain in the shadows until your return.” Shava knelt next to the hole dug into the earth. The glow of torch light filled the cavern below. “Lithel is below. He’ll guide you to the docks. Stay safe, all of you.”
Samira nodded to the Orgol, stepping to the hole in the ground. There was no ladder and so she lowered herself into the hole, dropping the rest of the way. An Orgol stood holding a torch, his large eyes glowing in the shifting light. Much like the others, he looked upon her with admiration. It was unnerving.
Kirheen dropped down next to her, grunting from the impact. “Samira, I hate you for making me wear this,” she groaned, clutching her sides. “I can barely breath in this damned dress.”
“Well, I say if you’re going to piss of the Korinthians, you might as well do it in style.”
Naree’na was the last to drop and she surveyed the tunnels ahead, hand on the hilt of her sword, ever the soldier. Samira wanted to trust her, wanted to believe that after all this time her former lover could still care for her. But she’d been betrayed before. She’d not make the mistake of letting her guard down.
“Lead the way,” she told the Orgol.
“Yes, Savior. This way,” he said, voice echoing in the tunnels. “Stay quiet. We pass beneath open ears.”
The tunnel was low and winding and after a short while, Samira felt her shoulders and back groaning from the strain. The Orgol leading the way was bent low, almost crawling, but he made no complaints. He dutifully led the way, eyes focused on the darkness beyond.
After what felt like eternity in the dark, they reached a ladder. The Orgol handed his torch to Kirheen and quickly scrambled up the rungs. He halted at the top and there was the scraping sound of rocks being moved. The smell of the sea drifted in, carried on currents of hot air.
Dropping back down, the Orgol took the torch, motioning for them to climb above. “Close now. Tread carefully, Savior. Until your return,” he said, nodding to her. His hand rose to his chest and he bowed deeply.
Samira returned the gesture. “Thank you. I will return when this is all over. I promise. Kirheen, up.”
Kirheen gave the Orgol a nod, hands gripping the ladder. She disappeared above and Naree’na followed. Samira moved towards the ladder but the Orgol reached out, long fingers brushing against her bare shoulders. He looked frightened and filled with a grief that Samira could feel through his touch.
“Save us all, please,” he said.
“I’ll try, old friend. I’ll try.”
He nodded and allowed her to pass. The ladder creaked as she ascended, the smell of the sea growing stronger, the breeze hotter. She crawled out of a concealed tunnel not far from the docks, her hand and knees scrapping against rocks as she pulled herself out into the open, struggling to keep her barrier in place as she stumbled to her feet.
Nearby, crimson and gold could be seen, flowing armor and the gleam of swords. A flash of red light shot across the broken remnants of their ship, colliding with a barrier that was weakening by the second. Samira glanced to Naree’na. “Can you stop them?”
Naree’na looked concerned. “I will do what I can, Samira, but I’m not the head of this beast. Some may listen, but I might be forced to stop them by other means.”
“Just do what you must. I’m trusting you.”
CHAPTER 30
Keha’ro huddled in a cave, knees pulled tightly to his chest. His head was swimming with song, with feeling. The others were close, so close, but he still couldn’t determine who meant to help and who meant to harm. The closest of them was the darkest, a melancholy melody ringing in his head, grating against his nerves.
“I don’t like this,” Ril said softly. “We should move.”
“It’s too late,” Keha’ro replied, knowing the truth of it in his very bones. “He’s close. Surely you sense him too.”
“I do, friend. I do. And I am afraid.”
“As am I.”
Sand shifted, footsteps bringing a mysterious figure closer and closer to where he sat, silent and still as a mouse in the eyes of a hawk. Each second passed slowly, his power churning uneasily. From the shadows of his hideout, he could see waves of dark sand blown about by the wind. Someone was moving towards him, his image blurred by the rising heat. Light robes fluttered in the breeze, hiding features from his seeking eyes.
All too soon, the figure was at the edge of the cave. He ducked down, stepping inside, eyes squinting to see in the dark. “There you are,” the man said. He strode forward and when he was a mere foot away, he sank down in the sand, legs folding beneath him. “Do not be afraid,” he said, his voice like smoke.
“Who are you?” Keha’ro asked, his pulse quickening. The man reached up, pushing back the hood of his robe. He was fair skinned, his hair black as a raven. Strange eyes bore into him, a mix of green and gold, a foreigner from a faraway land. “What do you want?”
He tilted his head. “My name is Elfrind. I was once the prince of Taverin.”
“I’ve…heard of you. They’d said you were-”
“-dead. No, not dead. Lost. For so long I slept, this power slowly dying within me. And in all that time, I kept hearing a voice, His voice commanding me to bring an end to the
time of the powerless, to see this senseless dance stopped once and for all. Do you feel it? Do you hear his call?”
Keha’ro’s heart fluttered in his chest, a nervous bird denied freedom. Elfrind, the dead prince of Taverin, was sitting across from him. Only he wasn’t dead, he was very much alive and brimming with power, power just like his. “I’ve heard nothing.”
Elfrind nodded. “You haven’t been awake long. It’s no wonder. Perhaps with more time…but we have so little of that.” A pale hand rose, palm facing upwards. In the center of it, a small circle opened in his skin and out came a coiled thread, black as the sand beneath them. It swam in the air above his hand and as he looked closer, he could see streaks of color, pinpoints of faint light. “This is what is within us, what we were meant to have. The others don’t know what this means, what we were meant to do. They do not understand, and they will try to stop me.”
“What is that?” Keha’ro asked, leaning closer. He was pulled in by curiosity, by fear.
“Keha’ro. Stay away from him.”
“The answer for this world, for the problems that have plagued us for too long. People without powers hate and fear us. They do not have the ability to see into our minds, to understand what we are and so they burn. They kill. They destroy. They were a mistake. They were never meant to exist.”
Keha’ro shrank back against the wall of the cave, eyes narrowing. “Ril, what is he talking about?”
“I…don’t know. I don’t like this, Keha’ro.”
“You’re afraid. You do not understand,” Elfrind said, his gaze piercing, swirling with sadness and disappointment. “She was also afraid. In the end I was forced to take, but I ask you to give willingly.”
“Give what? What are you talking about?”
The strange substance flowing above his hand was growing in size, swirling in lazy circles. “Your power. You all have this gift, but none of you understand it, not as I do. The world must be cleansed and to do that, I must have more. This is only the beginning.”
Keha’ro shook his head. “You’re mad! You are talking about people, anyone without powers. You’d destroy them all?”
“You misunderstand,” Elfrind said. There was an edge of desperation in his voice, his pitch rising. “I do not want this, but this is what Zekar desires. Would you deny a god? They were not meant to be here, and the balance has been tipped too far. I have no choice, not anymore.”
“You’re insane! I won’t help you. Many of my friends don’t have powers. My friends. I would not see them harmed, any of them, not by a monster like you.”
A shadow flickered over the prince, the shadowy substance in his hand condensing into a ball. “Don’t say that. Don’t. I need your help. I’ve heard his words for so long. You don’t understand. I can end this all. I can make them all see. I can make you see.”
Keha’ro rose, his power flaring to life along with his fear. Ril was growing hot within his arm, a coal burning beneath his skin. Elfrind watched him rise, his disappointment almost palpable. “Please, it does not need to be this way. Sit down, let me explain. Let me show you.”
“I’ve no interest in what you have to say. Please, just go away. I don’t want any trouble with you.” A sound escaped Elfrind, a gasp that turned into a sob. His shoulders shook, and he raised a trembling hand to hide his face as he wept. “Please, I don’t want any trouble. Just leave this place.”
“I’m sorry,” Elfrind moaned, rising to his feet. The dark substance broke apart and swirled around his hand, the movement becoming more chaotic. His eyes were orbs of sorrow and darkened tears cut a line through the dirt on his cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”
Keha’ro tried to react but it felt like everything happened in slow motion, impossible to stop. It was futile. Elfrind’s hand shot out and the dark substance shot towards Keha’ro. It slammed into his chest, pinning him against the wall of the cave. Rocks dug painfully into his back as the corruption coiled around his limbs and no matter how much he struggled, there was no freeing himself.
“Keha’ro, I can’t help you. Not against this. I don’t know what to do,” Ril chimed in his head, his voice panicked. His fear ignited with the words, growing into an inferno as Elfrind stepped closer. He was mere inches away and he raised a hand, resting it against the crystals protruding from Keha’ro’s chest.
He gave one final struggle, fighting against the bonds holding him. He was hopelessly overpowered and as fingers splayed across his crystals, his whole world turned to fire.
CHAPTER 31
Tomias ducked, a wave of red energy sizzling through the space his head had occupied just seconds before. He could feel it crackle, the energy kissing the back of his neck and making the hair on his body stand on end. At his side, Mirin grunted, expending the last of her strength to erect a barrier between themselves and the angry soldiers. Tomias tried to add to it but his skills of conjuration were shoddy at best, and he was already feeling the drain on his powers.
They wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer, not with the soldiers bearing down on them with such ferocity. He turned his head, looking to his red-haired companion in hopes she’d come up with a miracle solution. Trista was bent over a mortar, furiously grinding together the last few plants in her arsenal. Barog knelt over her, periodically looking up to make sure they weren’t about to be destroyed by stray arcs of power.
“Is that what I think it is?” Tomias called over his shoulder, the smell released by the pulverized plants making his nose wrinkle.
“If you mean ‘is this going to blow up and make a bunch of smoke’ then yes, that’s exactly what this is,” Trista shouted back. She carefully funneled the mashed plants into a vial. A little water was added to the mix and Trista had herself a rattling vial, the contents bright red and ready to burst. “Drop it!”
Mirin dropped the barrier, allowing Trista space to chuck the volatile vial of herbs across the wrecked ship. As promised, the vial burst on contact, exploding and sending bitter plumes of smoke over the soldiers. Obscured from view, they took the break in attacks to retreat further back, putting as much wreckage between themselves and the coughing soldiers as space would allow.
“You need to work on your barriers,” Mirin hissed, checking a wound on her shoulder where energy had sliced clean through her robes and the skin beneath.
“Well, I’m sorry, they didn’t teach me that in the School of Sanctuary!” Tomias shot back.
“That’s because Nyson was a damned fool.”
“Finally! Something we can agree on!”
“You’re a fool too,” she snapped.
His retort was cut short as a figure appeared in the smoke nearby, much closer than should have been possible. “H-hey! Look!”
He tried to form a barrier, his face falling in defeat as it sputtered to life only to disappear again.
“You really are bad at that, my friend,” Barog said, kneeling beside him. He held a blade in his right hand, ready to face whatever approached through the smoke.
“I’m out of practice.”
“Whatever you need to tell yourself,” Trista snorted.
The figure solidified, no longer just a ghostly apparition in the haze. Kirheen stumbled out of the fog, one hand covering her face. She looked like she’d been through a whirlwind, her beautiful dress torn. Despite how disheveled she looked, she appeared unharmed. His heart resumed beating. “Kir?”
A sputtering cough greeted him. “I’m guessing this was Trista’s doing?”
Tomias grinned. “What gave that away?”
“The noise. The smoke. That very pungent plant smell.”
“Guilty,” Trista said, wiping red paste off her hands with Barog’s shirt. “Did you find Samira?”
“Yes, she’s fine, but I can’t say the same for the city. The place is a mess.” Kirheen cast a glance at Mirin, positioning herself as far away from her as possible. “The soldiers will be dealt with, but we’ve got bigger problems. Elfrind is out there somewhere and he’s getting clo
ser to what he seeks. We’re on our own with this.”
Tomias closed his eyes, let his power reach out. The song was faint, but it was there, a mingling of sounds far out in the desert. “What is the plan?” he asked, opening his eyes to look at Kirheen. “How are we going to stop him?”
Kirheen shook her head. “I’m not sure. I don’t want anyone involved that can be hurt. Samira and I, we can stand against him and survive, but if he gets more power, I don’t know that we’ll be enough.”
“I know you want to do this alone, but I think you’ll need our help. We all know the danger, but we also know what will happen if we don’t stop him,” Tomias said, his eyes not straying from hers. He knew the cost better than anyone, what would be lost if they failed. Elfrind would have the power to destroy everything if left unchecked. They could either do something to stop him, or watch the world suffer, and what was the point of living with that on his conscience. “I’m going with you. We’ll put a stop to this together.”
“Only if it’s absolutely necessary. We’ll try and stop him on our own, but I won’t risk you unless things really start to look dire.”
“Then let’s get this over with,” Mirin said, rising to her feet. Her hand was streaked with blood and Kirheen glanced at the gaping wound on her shoulder, her expression torn between concern and indifference. Mirin briefly met her gaze, her face devoid of emotion, and turned to tend to her wound.
A sound of a scuffle rang out from the other side of the ship, still obscured by clouds of smoke. An eerie silence followed and then two figures approached through the fog. Tomias positioned himself in front of Kirheen and readied his mind.
The Allseer Trilogy Page 85
