by Dan Neil
“It’s already time?”
“Yes. The beginning of the end.”
The world blurred once more. Within a moment, the young man was kneeling in Greerwood once more. Remy was moving north. The disciple’s anger subsided.
Remy’s been captured. A wicked smile overcame his face. Focusing on the captor, he sensed no one in the area; nothing was near his partner. Remy’s position was changing rapidly—he had to hurry. The Dark Disciple cast temporal haste to double his speed.
—
This can’t really be Remy Crusoe, Keia thought.
Remy Crusoe was a legendary killer—this old man was timid, paranoid, and damaged. She bound him before setting out, but her nerves wore thin after less than a day of dealing with his antics. He cried while he slept and begged while he was awake. She pitied him—almost.
His pleading was constant. “You really should let me go. Please? It’s for your own good.”
Keia rolled her eyes. “That’s not happening.”
“I know you don’t want to—you’re stuck in the past. But you’ll be saving both of our lives! Isn’t that what you want? To save lives?”
“What do you care about saving lives?” Keia shot back. “You certainly don’t care about my life, do you?!”
“I care about mine,” Remy replied. He wildly shook his head and said, “It’s all silent now—the Master, the Master’s gone. Do you know what that means?!”
With heat rising in her cheeks, she turned her head and said, “I don’t care.”
“It means that there’s no time left—no time left for me,” Remy cried. “He’s going to find and kill me—and then he’ll kill you.”
“I’m not afraid,” Keia lied, unwilling to show her fear.
“You should be afraid. You should be terrified! I am. Please, just let me go!”
Keia ignored his cries. He was feared throughout the realm for horrendous crimes. Knowing Remy Crusoe would see justice strengthened her resolve.
Remy struggled mightily against going through portals. He pleaded for mercy with renewed self-pity every time a new one opened. Eventually, it wasn’t worth the effort. Keia had to slow her pace for the old man to keep up. Despite the frustration and fear swirling in her mind, she pushed forward.
“He’s getting closer!” Remy cried out. “Why have you forsaken me, my Master?”
“Shut up!” Keia said, sick of his constant complaining.
“You!” Remy spat out. “He’s going to kill you last; I hope that you realize that. He’s going to kill that other girl before you. You’ll have to watch as he guts your sister.”
“And who is this man? Tell me his name.”
“I’m—I’m not telling you that! No, I’m not telling you anything—giving them any reason to doubt me! I’m—I’m still here, Master!”
Keia grabbed him. “If you’re not going to say anything useful, I suggest you shut up before your shouting brings him to us!”
Once she was done, she shoved him away.
Unfazed, he retorted, “He already knows where we are! Don’t you get that? He’s already coming!”
She scowled. “I know he is! But he isn’t here yet. When he gets here, I might just give you to him and leave. I have more important things to do than babysit a monster like you.”
“There used to be words—words inside to guide me, but now they’re gone—I can’t, I can’t, I don’t know what you’re telling me,” Remy openly wept.
Keia ignored him as he cried for his god, his Master, anybody, to give him instruction.
I don’t know how much longer I can put up with him acting like the victim here.
Night was encroaching on the gray skies. Keia was exhausted, but the entity was drawing nearer. She walked into the night with her captive crying and shouting.
“How—how old were you?” Remy asked.
“What?”
“When we met the first time. All those years ago—how many was it?”
“Eighteen years ago,” she said through clenched teeth. “I was two.”
“And how old are you now?”
Her voice as cold as the air around them, she replied, “Obviously, I’m twenty—didn’t your Master teach you addition?”
A wicked smile broke out on Remy’s face. “Such a young age to die. You were as foolish as he hoped.”
Keia’s face contorted in rage. He was slowing her down and now insulting her, too—she had been far too gentle with him. The rising heat took over.
“Wait, what?” Remy gasped as she dug her fingers into his shoulder. Keia opened a portal and threw him through before following. When they emerged, Remy was screaming and crying face-down in the snow.
“You’re a monster! You’re—you’re evil!” Remy spat out. “Don’t do that again!”
Keia lifted him and opened another portal.
“No, please; I don’t like it—please stop! Please—I’ll be good; I’ll be good!”
Keia rolled her eyes, sighed, and ceased her spell. Despite all she’d suffered at his hands, she couldn’t bring herself to be cruel. His pitiable state won against her anger.
“Are you going to tell me his name?” Keia asked.
The man shook his head.
“Why not?”
“He’ll introduce himself,” Remy said, crying. “He won’t pass up the chance to talk to you. I don’t think so, at least.”
Keia’s nose and forehead scrunched up in disgust. “Very helpful.”
“Thank you!” Remy replied. “I try to be as helpful as I can. The Master always knew that. That’s why I don’t understand—why would he do this to me, his faithful servant?”
Keia frowned as Remy’s pathetic display carried on. A question popped into her head.
“This—Master, of yours. Ashuram, right?”
Remy’s eyes widened in fright. “Do not—no, do not speak that name. I spoke too much. Stupid, stupid, stupid! If Master can hear me, I’m—oh, no; can Master hear me? Are you him? Is this a trick? A test?”
Keia’s lips tightened. What happened to this man? What reduced a human being to such a state that he wished for mental slavery?
“Remy, are you okay?”
His response was high-pitched and shaky. “No! The Master is being quiet. He hasn’t been quiet for decades. He’s coming back for me, and you’re here. No, this is not good at all.”
“You aren’t making any sense!”
“No, you aren’t making any sense!” Remy frantically shook his head. “He’s coming for us, and you’re walking as if nothing is happening, as if everything is fine in your little brain. Well, you don’t know what’s going on! You’re out of your depth!”
Somewhere between exhausted, angry, and confused, Keia stopped. After hours of Remy’s constant wailing and misery, she was too tired to go on. She needed a break. Dealing with her captive’s constant paranoia was draining.
Remy protested, “Wh-why are you stopping? We can’t stop!”
“Right—the captive gives orders in these situations. Get real. I’m taking a break,” Keia said.
“No, no, we can’t stop—he’ll find us!”
“Better than another day of traveling with you.”
Incredulous, Remy raised his voice, “What are you saying? Do you hear me? You’re killing us both!”
She met his eyes. “Well, I’m not dying hungry.”
After a meager meal of bread and a tomato, she leaned against a tree and closed her eyes.
First I lose Mar; then, I gain Remy. Just about the worst situation imaginable.
Remy’s wailing made concentration impossible. He was right, too—despite all her training, all her effort, and all her will, she wasn’t anywhere near ready to face this enemy.
Certain death gained speed as it approached. Taking a deep breath, Keia
thought, Is this really how it all ends? Am I ready to die?
She didn’t have an answer. For a moment she considered leaving Remy.
He’d do it to me if he had the chance. He’d do worse. But leaving him—I already had to leave one person to their death. And it’d mean he doesn’t pay for his crimes.
Keia saw Valiance’s Skystone glow brighter. Tears stung her eyes—the shield reminded her of Genievon, of warmth, of all the times she spent with friends and family—of Carter, Aliya, Devin, Gilfried, Jisaazu, Raya, Oliver, Myrddin, Mar, and even Aleister. It reminded her of Myrddin’s words: You can’t have courage without fear.
Keia was afraid, but she didn’t feel brave. She hugged Valiance. It still felt warm after all this time. The shield pulsated, filling Keia with vitality in the face of hopelessness.
She stood. Remy took notice.
“Oh, have you finally learned to value your life?”
“Just walk.”
Soon enough, Remy was back to his normal self. Each step forward was a new complaint.
“We’ve already lost too much ground!” he said. “We may as well just wait for him to kill us. We can’t escape now because you needed food! That’s what makes you humans weak—your reliance on maintaining your bodies.”
“Mm.”
“I hope you’re proud of all your accomplishments,” Remy continued. “Of course, there’s no eulogy, no headstones out here. No, you’ll just be buried by the snow—never to be found. Just like your stupid brother and sister.”
Keia’s eye twitched, and words exploded from her lips. “Shut the fuck up.”
“What did you say?”
“I said, shut the fuck up!” Keia yelled, so angry that tears were prickling her eyes. “I don’t care about you, Remy. So shut your mouth before I break your fucking jaw! You took my parents from me—my chance at a normal life. Isn’t that enough? Do you have to be such a pest now? You’re the reason he’s going to catch both of us—because you aren’t brave enough to walk through a fucking portal! I have half a mind to leave you to him! So unless you want to say something that isn’t crazy, stupid, or both, just shut your fucking mouth and walk as fast as you can!”
Remy whimpered and fell silent for an hour or so. Droves of lifeless gray trees flew by. Keia was unable to even enjoy the silence; fear kept her on edge.
Finally, Remy whispered, “He’s here.”
Keia readied Valiance and drew her wand. The Skystone glowed intensely, as if trying to reassure her. However, she was too nervous to be assured of anything.
“No!” Remy said, “No! I can feel it! He’s here!”
He screamed as the mental pressure crushed at his mind. Remy collapsed into the snow.
“Come on! We don’t have time!” she urged. “We need to go!”
As Remy’s shrieking worsened, she winced. He was scratching at his skin until he drew blood. Then, he tore out handfuls of his hair.
Keia stared on, horror setting in. I’m fucked. I’m going to die right here.
Her eyes scanned the tree line, searching for any movement. Something rustled behind her, making her jump.
Remy shrieked, “Mercy! Mercy!”
A violent humming sound filled the air as his cries were silenced. Keia turned.
The figure from her nightmares was before her: a young man in black clothing. His hair was dark in color and medium-length. He wielded a sword of twisting, fiery shadows. His skin was gray with fierce, fanatical eyes, starved for some creed Keia knew not. He stood over Remy’s dismembered, rotting corpse.
“It’s you,” a cold but familiar voice erupted from him, “after all these years. It’s really you.”
The Dark Disciple’s presence was like a rush of foul wind up the back of her neck, bringing ancient whispers into her ear; the magical pressure he radiated was crushing, constricting her chest. His power surged outward, covering everything around it. Even standing before him put Keia off-balance. Her hands shook as she pointed her wand at the Dark Disciple, who smiled and walked toward her. Before she cast a spell, he raised his gauntlet, upon which a stone glowed. Keia’s wand shattered in her hands.
Yelping, Keia grabbed Gaheris’s wand and tried to cast telekinesis, but it sputtered out. With Valiance, she cast a wind burst, but the figure was unaffected. She cast a portal with Ziel, but before falling through, he caught her with telekinesis and dragged her back out.
Keia still had Gaheris’s wand pointed at him—she tried to cast something, anything to slow him down. It was too late. He covered the wand’s tip with his palm and smiled knowingly. “You don’t have to fight it. We both know how this ends.”
A spell circle lit up on the man’s gauntlet, and Keia’s backup wand dissolved in her hands. She tried to raise Valiance but was immobile. Shadowy tendrils erupted from his gauntlet and encircled Keia, trapping her in endless darkness. Everything went black as the void swallowed her.
Chapter 45
The Battle of Bottleneck Pass
Day 14 of the Season of Life, 1020 YAR
Scipion woke and went for his usual morning walk. He quenched his thirst from the River Leiesna and filled a deerskin bag. He had slept poorly, expecting to be ambushed by his opponent in the middle of the night, but the attack never came. The Scorpion Knight returned to his camp and walked amongst his soldiers as they rose from their sleep and prepared for the coming fight.
The encampment was mostly silent and contemplative, with many praying to their respective gods for good fortune. The soldiers ate what might be their last meal and adorned their armor and weapons. Archers gathered their arrows and tested their bowstrings, while swordsmen sharpened their blades. Zel Ilear’s cavalry spoke soothingly to their steeds and fed apples to the horses as they were armored.
It all happened in slow motion around Scipion, who was equal parts nervous and confident. The sun’s heat beat down on them, and the smell of sweat pervaded their ranks as each man and woman took swigs of water.
The Scorpion Knight found Echo Moniz and told him to reach the mages. Their part would be crucial. Scipion wanted them to meditate before battle, for Mathieu had told him that it strengthened their ability to use magic.
As Scipion walked the camp, he came upon Matalo, Zel Yano, and Zel Daved. They ate heartily of spell meat around a fire and drank coffee.
Matalo waved and stood. “Ho, Scipion!”
“Ho, Matalo.”
“Today is the day we show the world they need not fear men like him.”
Scipion replied, “And show them we will.”
Matalo placed a hand on Scipion’s shoulder and met his eyes. Apparently, he was satisfied with what he saw, for he smiled proudly.
“We truly are like that meteor,” Matalo said quietly.
Scipion nodded as Matalo went back to his breakfast, then said to Zel Daved, “Tell your soldiers to eat well and then form them up. We need to be ready soon in case he attacks early.”
“Yes, sir,” the Valkhar replied. “I assume our patrols didn’t find anything last night?”
“I doubt he could rally his army for an attack after their march. They must have been exhausted,” Scipion said. “They did not have the advantage of magic to aid them, neither in food nor travel.”
Scipion left them to their breakfast and found Eritar grazing amongst the Rolling Plains. He whispered in the horse’s ear and stroked its neck. He led her back to camp and adorned his armor, finishing with his helm of Grythos Steel. He wore the same heavy armor as Zel Daved’s Valkhars—a simple steel breastplate over a layer of cloth. He was already sweating as the sun rose over Bottleneck Pass. Scipion then put a special breastplate and helmet on Eritar.
He made sure to give her a carrot to nibble on before the battle, whispering, “There you go. Eat up. You need to be fast today, girl. You’ll get another one after we’re done.”
He
looked at the ground and closed his eyes. A prayer to the nameless old gods of the trees, rivers, hills, and mountains escaped his lips. “To the gods of Madros Relia,” he whispered, “give me guidance in leading. Give me wisdom to know what is necessary and the strength to do it. Give our horses speed and our soldiers courage. Let these lands no longer fear men like Anton Day, or Black Heart, or even Bhothar.”
When he looked up, he again saw the Woman; when he blinked, she was gone. He shook his head in quiet frustration and mounted Eritar.
Now’s not a good time to lose my damn mind.
Upon trotting back to their encampment, he studied the army manning their wall. There was a duality in the air; confidence and anxiety hung over the troops. The soldiers looked on as Scipion rode to the front of their ranks. Zel Ilear, Zel Yano, Zel Daved, Matalo, Douglas, Denna, Echo, and all of their men stared as he pulled Eritar to a halt.
Scipion dismounted and pulled a few blades of grass from the ground. He turned and loosened his grip, allowing the grass to be taken by the wind.
“I want each of you to see how beautiful these lands are. I want you to take in the smells, the sights, the gifts these lands have bestowed upon us. Look, there is the River Leiesna, and over there, the Madros. Take it in, all of it. The men we are about to face say that these lands are theirs. What do you say?”
His army shouted a resounding, “No!”
“These are men who tortured and murdered the innocent to make a point. Men who enslave our brethren and work them to death for profit! These are men who would gladly see these lands reaped and our bodies desecrated. I know you all care for your lives; there is no better spur to victory than that. But do not forget what is at stake, either. Madros Relia, the Gift of the Mother, is preyed on by men like Anton Day. It is not just that they do not deserve these lands, but also that these lands do not deserve them. Fight for the soldier beside you, and they will fight for you. Together, we will purge this evil from our home!”
Scipion was met by a round of cheers. He raised his sword and used his commander voice.
“Oathsworn! To your positions!”
Zel Ilear led the cavalry into attack position. Zel Daved followed with his standing Valkhars to meet New Dawn’s frontal attack in the fortification’s narrow opening. Echo led his archers to the raised platforms, and the other infantry gathered behind the wall to act as reinforcement to Zel Daved’s forces if necessary. Zel Yano and Denna stood with the Valkhars on the front lines, ready to die if need be. Douglas Hari was on the wall with the archers, comparing arrows with the bowman next to him.
