Ignoring RaCorren, the first colossal dark creation moved past the Valen, walking on its hands, pulling the body and its maimed useless legs behind it.
The Valen man slipped a broad sword from his back sheath, chopping the weapon’s width into the colossal arm above the elbow. The creation shuddered but kept moving. “Everyone with a blade weapon aid me! Defend Sarra’esiah!” he roared.
Heaving forward, the colossal crawler moved ahead another hand’s reach, gaining half the distance to Crystalyn.
The gigantic foot of the towering creation descended, slamming into the column. The base crumbled, shifting close to her head. Jagged cracks appeared along the column and covered her in a white dust that stuck to the black tarry substance from the dark creation. The great foot ascended.
Scrunched beside her, Long Sand shifted slightly, glancing through the gap between the column and rubble. “The stone cannot take another hit. We have no choice except to fight our way past. Can you run?” he asked tersely.
“I think so,” she replied. Until she slid out from under the column, she had no way of knowing for certain.
Hastel arrived at the crawling creation first. Working on the opposite side of the Valen, his muscular arms swung with synchronal precision. As one axe bit deep, the other rose and then fell as the twin side of the half-moon chopper ascended again. His broad shoulders glistened with the sweat of his exertions, and splotches of the tarry substance coated his brown kell vest and bared arms before long.
Joined by a nomad and his scimitar, RaCorren and the warrior took turns hacking at the gigantic creation in the same place.
Long Sand slipped out from under the pillar, taking her by the hand.
The one-legged creation lunged forward as Hastel and the other two cut through its arms. Sliding forward with an inhuman effort, the colossal head slid beside Crystalyn. Losing momentum, its burlap-textured skin rubbed her shoulder.
The colossal foot of the other Dark Creation slammed into the column. A sharp crack rent the air.
Long Sand tugged at her hand.
The heavy white marble fell in two halves, the upper torso of a lovely woman taking Crystalyn’s place she’d been a moment before. The sand reader had barely pulled her to safety.
The dark creation had not been as fortunate. Lying unmoving, the huge head was buried under the thick column. An image of yellow-orange eyes fading from the loss of the spark of life flashed through her mind.
From where she lay, Crystalyn formed her absorption symbol, combining it with the air elemental one under the heading wrathful aggression, which she’d read in the black-lettered Tiered Tome of Symbols. Flowing with liquid-like consistency, the black-and-white pattern hovering above her converted to a radiant gold. Snaking outward to a triangular point, it swirled into a raging cyclone containing thin fragments of gold.
Blowing into the descending foot, the golden tempest flew upward, spiraling partway up the leg before fizzling out and dissolving. The black crystal heated in her hand, and her throbbing hand ached all the way to the bone. Crystalyn moaned from the pain and weakness it caused her. The golden symbol had drained her of much energy.
Atoi appeared from out of the shadows of the barracks, dashing under the withdrawing leg.
Shredded and oozing streams of black goo, the dark creation supplanted its damaged leg beside its intact limb and stooped to a pile of rubble. Arrows sank into its back, fist-sized balls of white detonated all over it, and thick green vines entwined around its legs, crawling toward the waist.
Long Sand lifted her upright. “If you are well, Clan Savior, I shall join the battle of destroying the final abomination.”
“Go for the eyes, the spark of life there needs extinguished,” Crystalyn said, wincing. Her left hand ached. “Trenton may have the best shot at it with the orb.”
Atoi slid to a stop beside her. “The Dark Citadel soldiers are attacking.” The little girl ran to the foot of the broken column, peering around it. “They are many,” she said.
Spread in a line spanning the width of the courtyard, the dark-armored soldiers marched. The black dragon stalked behind, a beast towering as high as the dark creation.
“Gather to me, Sect Leaders!” Long Sand shouted as he joined Atoi at the downed column.
RaCorren strode up to her. “I shall rally my people and bring them to the Dark Child. There, where the Child waits, is a good place to make a final stand. Will your one-eyed companion survive?” he asked, giving a nod back the way he had come.
The humongous creation had managed to lift a heavy marble depiction of a planet resembling Astura, cradling it in his arms. Hastel chopped with wild abandon at the shredded leg. “He can take care of himself,” she said. “As you collect your fighting force, have your archers and Users attack each of the enemy’s flanks. If you can get them to create pressure, it will remove some from us, while I regain strength.”
RaCorren executed a brief bow. “As you say, Sarra’esiah,” he said. Turning, he ran into the darker area at the front of the row of barracks, giving the creation a wide berth.
Slowed substantially, the creation limped toward Crystalyn carrying its heavy round payload.
A glint of something shiny in the shadowed courtyard hallway entrance behind the creation caught Crystalyn’s eye, the steel of a bared weapon. Before she could sound the alarm, skirmishes broke out at the barracks. The enemy had crept in behind, cutting off any hope of escape.
Her people were doomed.
Following her, they’d left their homes and loved ones, trusting her to keep them safe. She’d repaid them by leading them all to a dark place where they would die. Every death would be on her blasted incapable hands.
The mere thought of it made Crystalyn angry. If they were to die, she’d go out with a boom, giving it her all. They would not perish for nothing.
With her mind clear with what she must do, Crystalyn visualized the absorption symbol with its many crosses of white and stretched it over her. Picking up a fallen warrior’s shield, she slid it over her right arm and strode on. Having the symbol’s source taken out with an errant arrow wouldn’t do.
Preparing as she walked, Crystalyn strengthened her barrier, looking over her shoulder. The last creation limped toward her, the sphere hugged to its immense chest. Ignoring the swords hacking below, the vines seeking to tether or pull it down, and the arrows quilled on its burlap-textured skin, the yellow-orange eyes fixed on her as it came.
When the colossal creation raised the ball of marble slightly, Crystalyn judged it close enough and broke into a run.
She’d barely made it beyond Atoi’s lookout spot beside a mound of rubble before missiles and cones streaked toward her. Crystalyn placed the shield in front of her, leaving enough room to see past it with one eye. The Dark User’s power struck her barrier at mid-point.
A throbbing migraine caused her to wince, dulling the pain in her hand. She’d reached her limit of symbol use. Creating more would drain her life. But did it matter? She would give those who came with her the best chance at survival.
Her companions, her followers, her people, shouted at her with urgent voices, but Crystalyn tuned them out, keeping an eye on the last colossal creation with a quick glance behind. The thing had gained. Reaching deep inside, Crystalyn picked up her pace.
An image of Jade grasping her hand flashed through her mind causing her to long for her sister with a fervency that surprised her. “Together we are stronger,” she clearly heard Jade say somewhere close. Startled, Crystalyn glanced around. Or, had she imagined it?
A bolt of red lightning crashed into her absorption symbol, bolstering her head throbs and drawing through her aching hand with an intensity that staggered as she moved forward.
Behind, the creation stomped past the barrier of rubble, past her friends, moving fast for it, even with a limp.
Not far ahead, dark-armored soldiers advanced, many rows deep, their movements unordered in places. Ch
oosing an ordered group in a direct line with the dragon, Crystalyn dashed forward, running at top speed, glancing over a shoulder.
Without slowing, the dark creation heaved the marble sphere when she did.
Waiting until the last moment, Crystalyn adjusted her shield, dashed sharply left, and ran in front of the first row. Pikes held at the ready banged against her shield edge, jarring her shoulder.
A wide swath opened up at her heels as the sphere bounced into the front row.
Skidding to a halt, she reversed direction, dissolving her symbol and installing a new one, the absorption for a physical barrier. Then Crystalyn charged after the ball.
The marble sphere rolled through soldiers, crushing or throwing their mangled bodies to the sides, opening a path to the dragon without much loss of speed. The dragon dodged nimbly to one side.
The massive marble ball ground onward, its momentum carrying it smashing into the gate wall where it bounced once and rolled to a stop. A great crack raced upward, knocking several Users from atop who stood too close to the edge.
The enemy force closed in around Crystalyn, raining blows on her barrier. Jagged cracks appeared with a quickness that worried her, only to have them stop the next moment.
Gasping for breath, she’d reached the dragon.
Preparing her golden cyclone symbol, knowing it to be the last of the power she had in her, perhaps even kill her with the drain. But she had little choice. Crystalyn half-turned, gauging the distance to the thing behind. With luck, she could include it and the dragon within the area of her symbol’s effect.
The dark creation thumped through the soldiers, kicking and smashing them as it followed a path beside that of the marble boulder.
An enormous force slammed into Crystalyn wrenching her from the floor. Blunt force crashed into her side, stopping momentum.
Blackness bloomed.
HORRIBLE CHOICE
Garn gazed at the fighting force below with increasing frustration. The thing controlling his daughter and his commanders had wanted to give the order to attack the invaders not long after the black dragon had dropped him within their midst. He’d argued against involvement as they battled the gigantic creations the Alchemist had created.
The being that inhabited his daughter had taken his advice, at least part of it. The thing had moved the Citadel soldiers to the courtyard while Crystalyn had fought the creations. One of the creatures still stood, bent over a pile of rubble. Garn worried since he hadn’t seen his daughter in some time.
Now his soldiers, no its, advanced in rows along the courtyard, those groups without officers moving with precision.
Garn’s heartbeat accelerated as his oldest daughter sprinted out from behind one of the pillars the invaders had pulled down for cover. Crystalyn ran toward the Dark army. What was she doing?
Close behind her, the colossal creation threw a massive green and blue stone ball before its advance.
Crystalyn had run from danger into worse peril. Garn wanted to ask it for the dragon’s aid, but there was no time.
Slipping nimbly to the right, Crystalyn somehow avoided the front row of Dark soldiers. Then she vanished behind a wall of metal shields. His concern deepened until he noticed her running behind the great ball as it rolled through the regiment rows.
The black dragon sprang to the side. The marble ball rolled past, banging into the gateway, and seven Users fell to their deaths. Garn barely noticed. His daughter had turned to face the creation following, forgetting the danger so near. Knowing she wouldn’t hear from this distance, he vaguely heard someone shout look out with his voice, as he ran toward her.
The dragon whipped around, its great reptile tail catching his daughter in the side. As if nothing more than a doll made of rags, Crystalyn thudded into the gate wall a partial story high and then slid to the floor in a heap, unmoving.
Racing down the grand stairway, the fear in the pit of Garn’s stomach for his eldest daughter accelerated his heart and constricted his throat. His practical mind nagged no one could survive such a blow.
A group of five from the Dark Regiment, the controlled ones, captains all, spread out to bar his way at the bottom. Barely slowing, Garn’s great sword disposed of two. He shouldered between the two as they fell and raced on.
With its left fist, the creation pounded on the dragon’s head. The beast had clamped its great jaws upon the right arm.
Giving them ample room, Garn hugged the wall. Making it to the crumpled form of his daughter, he dropped to one knee, checking her pulse. At first, he found none and feared the worst; his heart hammered in his chest. Calming his fears, he slowed the thumps of his internal organ until they faded beyond detection.
Then, though weak, he felt the pulse he hoped to find at her neck.
Standing, he turned, a shout for healers dying at his lips. It stood near, wearing his youngest daughter’s body. Flanked by three dull-eyed, slouching generals, the translucence of the smoky barrier glinted around it still. A glance upward revealed the twelve mages grouped in front of the grand stairway.
“Again, you abandoned your post,” the creature inside his youngest said. “The Over Mind wishes you flogged for each episode at our private quarters once the enemy is eradicated.”
Elated, Garn barely heard. “Some of the Users maintaining your barrier will have the healing ability. Command them to aid me, quickly. There is not much time left for her.”
Jade’s emerald eyes regarded his oldest. “This offspring of yours has no use to the One Mind, quite the opposite. Request is denied.”
Garn leapt, drawing from his sheath as he did. The tip of his great sword rested in the small of his daughter’s neck before he could change his mind about what he was doing. As one, the three generals drew long swords and then lumbered toward him. “Call them off or I plunge this through her throat,” he snarled.
Though it did not give a flick of the hand, nor say a word, all three generals froze. “You would slay your remaining progeny? The Over Mind believes you now use deception. The One Mind will not provide aid to your fallen offspring,” it said.
Gripped within the sounds of the carnage happening at the front lines, the fierce battle between dragon and creation, the sizzling bolts of Dark and Light exchanged from both sides, it came to Garn he had a horrible choice to make. Destroy one of his children for the unlikely success of saving another.
How could he take the chance of losing both daughters, one by his own hand?
How could he not?
TRUE CLAN
As Seonid, the last of the master healers left the bedchamber, Deonna stuffed another pillow behind the small of Crystalyn’s back. Declining the offered brush the woman held in a tray with a wave of her hand, Crystalyn grabbed the hand mirror and raked her deformed hand through her hair, pulling it in place with decent results. No healing yet had been able to straighten the curls from her fingers, fingers that may forever remain locked around an unseen object the shape of the black crystal candle. At least, according to the string of Dark User master healers that had come and gone throughout the day, the digits on her left hand would remain deformed. Perhaps when she’d healed a day or two, Crystalyn would attempt her own brand of deep healing from the inside out. Though she couldn’t wait long or any of the melted ligaments improperly repaired would heal too short and she’d have to live with the mend. She’d give it a go soon. After all, the only healer’s capabilities she trusted fully were her own.
Once satisfied with her hair, Crystalyn put down the mirror and glanced at head mistress Deonna. “Let them in, I’m ready,” she said, even though she wore only the silky, semi-sheer nightdress the healers had put on her. Crystalyn hadn’t the strength to change.
“Are you certain of this, Do’brieni?” Broth asked, lying in his customary place on the floor beside her bed. “Another twelve bells of rest shall help you mend.”
“I know, you would benefit too, my Do’brieni, the healers told me your
wounds were as dire as my own. But I can’t wait to hear everything that happened.”
Another thick strand of usually immaculate hair poked through a bun too loose from neglect as Deonna lowered her dull blue eyes. “Yes, my lady,” she said. Turning away, the head mistress shuffled toward the antechamber, her movements stiff and jerky as if her arm and leg joints pained her.
Perhaps arthritis had finally caught up to the crotchety old woman, Crystalyn thought. Oddly, Deonna had not shown any of her former sauciness. In fact, the woman had been quite docile during the frustrating ordeal of getting her ready for this morning’s meeting. Such clumsiness from the woman had come as an unexpected and unpleasant surprise.
Crystalyn put the matter from her mind. Since she’d woken from the deep sleep required after a near-death healing, Crystalyn had spoken to no one but the head mistress, the healers, and Broth. Today, her family and companions waited to speak with her. Why was she so nervous?
Her dad and her sister strode inside the bedchamber first, Jade going to the maiden vanity with its round gilded mirror and plush stool for a place to sit.
Charging across the room, her dad wrapped his strong arms around her shoulders, giving her a fierce hug. “Careful,” Crystalyn said with a fond laugh. “I’m still breakable.”
“I know, Seonid hissed a warning to keep the visit short and go easy on you, but I’ve missed you,” her dad said, speaking into her hair. Giving her a final squeeze, he backed away.
“I’ve really missed you too, Dad. And, look at you. You seem seasons younger, how?”
He shrugged, a roguish grin flashing upon his smooth face. “Flow potions and unparalleled exercise,” he said with a flourish. Then, his tanned face clouded with concern. “But that is for another visit. The real question is, how are you feeling? I nearly lost you.”
Crystalyn covered her left hand with her right, hiding the deformity, the blatant imperfection upon her youth. “I will mend, mostly. The rest that refuses is nothing I can’t handle. What happened? I only recall making it through the rows of Citadel soldiers, little else after.”
Beyond the Dark Gate Page 46
