“How long do we wait?”
“Until someone loses. If that’s Tyrion, fine. I’ll just make sure he doesn’t get out alive. If that’s Matthew and the others, I’ll be the dagger in the back that puts and end to our mutual enemy,” said Chad.
George was shocked. “What if he kills them while we’re sitting here, playing it safe?”
“We aren’t playing house, boy,” bit back the hunter. “We’re betting our lives. Hopefully we’ll be able to tell who the loser is before it gets that far, but there’s no guarantees in this game. People are going to die. If that pisses you off, fine. I really don’t give a shit, because I’ll probably be dead before this is all over anyway. If you don’t like it you can spit on my grave. But until I’m dead, I plan on doing my best to make sure I kill that fucker first.”
“If he tries to hurt them, I’m not going to sit still and wait,” warned George, his face serious.
“That’s exactly why you’ll be over there,” said Chad, pointing at the opposite side of the field. “So you can’t fuck things up for me. If you jump in and I think it’s the right time, I’ll help you, but I don’t expect that much luck. More likely you’ll just get yourself killed.”
Chad opened his pack and pulled out a waterskin. He took a long drink before continuing, “My advice to you is to wait until you see me start. If things look good, you might be able to do some good. If not, you should use those magic powers of yours to vanish and start running. Either way, I’ll probably be dead.”
That brought George up short. “Dead?”
The hunter shrugged, then spread his hands outward, indicating the wide field they were in. “This isn’t the best place for a sniper. What do you think will happen once I reveal myself? Hopefully Tyrion will be dead, but there’s a fair chance whoever is with him won’t be. Once they spot me they’ll bring the hammer down.”
Stubborn as ever, George refused to give in. “That won’t happen. We’re not alone. I’m sure Matthew has something planned.”
Chad took another drink, wishing for perhaps the hundredth time that it was something better than water. “Don’t count on other people’s plans, boy. It never works out. If you really want to help, wait until I start, then do something big. Create a big enough distraction and I might be able to keep shooting long enough to kill more of them. Hell, maybe I’ll even survive.”
George remained quiet for a while, thinking. Then he asked, “Is that what you really think?”
Chad looked up from the grass, his eyes meeting the young Baron’s and holding his gaze. The look in them chilled George to the core. “No. Starting a shooting match in the middle of an open field with no proper defenses is the most foolish thing I’ve ever done in a life full of foolish decisions. If I had any interest in living, I wouldn’t be here.”
Chapter 43
A cool breeze drifted across the field, though in comparison to the mountains it was almost warm. Gram looked around at the others. He was in the last group to have come with Karen, and although it had taken her less than a span of minutes to carry everyone there, using multiple trips, Matthew and Irene were already getting ready.
It was happening too quickly.
Gram looked at his mother. “I don’t like your plan,” he told her. “At least let me stand beside you. If something goes wrong, I can stop it.”
Rose gave him a calm glance. “It won’t work if you do that. My life has to genuinely be in danger.”
“Then let one of the others do it,” he countered. “There’s no reason it has to be you. If he would come for you then he most certainly would come for one of his own children.”
His mother raised one brow. “And if it went wrong? Of everyone here, I’m the most expendable. This thing they’ve created needs all four of them.”
“Moira,” said Gram, ignoring his inner shame.
“You mean Myra,” corrected Rose.
“Whatever,” he growled. “She’s not needed for it to work and she’s one of his children.”
“He’s right,” said Myra, listening from behind them.
Rose glanced back at her. “Shush, girl. If things become as dangerous as Lynaralla foresaw, you’ll be needed to defend them. This is the only thing I can do. Let me do it.”
Sir Cyhan was standing a few feet away, fully armored and with a heavy crossbow in his hands. Alyssa stood next to him, likewise armored and carrying the enchanted spear she favored. Forgoing the use of the crank, the veteran warrior set the steel bow using only his gauntleted hands before placing a quarrel in place. “I don’t like it either, Gram,” he announced. “But it was your mother’s idea and Matthew agreed to it. Together they’re smarter than the rest of us put together. I don’t see an alternative.”
Gram felt a tremor of fear run through him. Desperate he turned back to his mother. “Let someone else do it,” he begged. He gestured to Cyhan. “Give it to me.”
The older knight looked at him cynically. “Don’t be a fool. No one here believes you could do it.” He let his eyes roam across the others. “Certainly, none of them could. Besides, if it goes wrong and she dies, who else could bear the blame?”
Alyssa spoke up, “Let me.”
Sir Cyhan laughed darkly. “Do you want your future husband to hate you? Would you be the woman who killed his mother?”
Rose glared at the massive knight. “You’re not helping. No one is dying. At least not from this. He’ll come.”
Karen was biting her lip. “But how? I can travel anywhere in the world with a thought, but even I couldn’t stop a crossbow bolt with that little warning.”
“He can, and he will,” said Rose confidently. “He’s already done as much three times before. Once for me, once for Matthew, and again when Myra was thinking of killing herself. I won’t to pretend to understand how, but I know he can.”
Matthew addressed them from the background. “We’re ready.”
“Where do you want me to stand?” asked Rose calmly.
“Over there,” said Matt, pointing to a spot about twenty yards distant before gesturing to Cyhan in the other direction. “If he stands over there, it will put the device squarely between you.”
Even Elaine was nervous, though none of them could see her. Her voice emerged from what seemed to be empty air. “Are you sure he can’t sense it?” she asked.
“Can you?” asked Matthew.
“No,” answered Elaine immediately. “But even if he doesn’t detect the trap, he might not appear where you want him to.”
“Anywhere in this twenty-yard spread will work,” said Matt. “Though the middle of it would be best. I don’t think it will matter, though.”
“Why do you say that?” asked Karen.
“Because I think he’ll want to do this,” said Matthew, absently rubbing the back of his metal fist against his tunic, as though he might polish its perfect enchanted metal. It was a sign of his nervousness. “If he can discover something like one of us being in danger, I think he’ll also be able to figure out what we’re doing. If he shows up in the wrong place, I’ll try to explain it to him.”
“If you get too close to him you’ll die,” announced Myra. “I don’t think he can control the power. That’s why he hasn’t come back to us.”
“Enough,” said Rose. “Let’s get this over with.” She spoke with her usual confidence and authority, but inwardly she worried that she would lose her nerve. She folded her hands in front of her to prevent them from shaking visibly.
Karen disappeared, taking Elaine with her to wait at their chosen vantage point, while Matthew, Irene, Conall, and Lynaralla moved apart to their assigned positions at the corners of an unmarked square, thirty yards apart. All of them strengthened their shields. Once they were ready, Cyhan lifted his crossbow, sighting carefully along it at Rose’s chest. He had practiced carefully over the past few days to ensure he could strike true. The heavy bolt would not miss, and if things did not go as planned, he would at least make sure that Rose did not suffer as she
died. It would pierce her heart and end her life with as little pain as possible.
Gram and Alyssa stood over a hundred yards distant, too far away to intervene, as the big man’s finger hovered over the trigger. The tension in the young knight was palpable as he watched. Alyssa’s hand was on his arm, but it did little to ease the strain of his muscles as he fought against himself and his own urge to stop the proceedings. “I can’t watch this,” argued Gram, his eyes fixed on the scene. “I’ve changed my mind.” He took a step, beginning to move forward.
Alyssa’s hand was firm. “Trust her…” The words were only half out of her mouth before a sharp clack rang out as the crossbow fired, and then everything happened at once.
Two men’s voices rang out, screaming in fear and denial. One was Gram’s, but the other came from a newcomer. Beside Gram and Alyssa stood a man with a massive frame, easily the size of Sir Cyhan or Gram himself. The stranger was clad in full-plate armor and carried a great sword that Gram knew instantly, for it was his own. The enameled breastplate bore the arms of the Thornbear family.
All of this registered in a moment of blinding pain, for a pillar of black flame had appeared on the field, standing precisely between Rose and Sir Cyhan. The heat it radiated was not heat at all, but a searing pain that dropped Gram, Cyhan, Alyssa, and the newcomer to the ground, writhing in agony as they began to die.
Only the four wizards remained upright, barely. Matthew and the others were protected by the strongest shields they could create, but even that was not enough, and one by one they fell to their knees as they struggled to complete their task.
***
At the edge of time, in a place that wasn’t a place, I watched the crystal that held the universe slowly crumble, and I was helpless to stop it. My pain was gone now, and even my emotions were largely numb. Nothing mattered.
Sleep was what I wanted, the blissful release of dreams, where I could forget this life and all that had gone wrong with it. I fought to stay awake, for I knew what sleep would mean, though with each passing moment it seemed less important to me.
A bell rang, a tiny chime within my awareness that rose in pitch as it went on. I failed to understand it at first, but eventually my mind began to pay attention. The vast diamond world before me sprang into focus, and I realized the sound I was hearing was coming from a point inside it.
Rose.
In an instant, I saw her, standing on an open field, as death crept toward her. If I approached, it would likely kill her, but if I did nothing her death was certain. My family was there, watching with strange expectation, so I borrowed a small slice of eternity and searched their thoughts and memories. In them I found hope. My son had done it; he had found the answer. A small feeling of pride ran through me, washing away the sadness that accompanied the knowledge that I would never be able to tell him or the others how proud I was of them.
There was one small problem with their plan. Rose was too close, and with nothing to protect her my presence would turn her to ash. I had a solution, however, and as gently as I could, I twisted the space around her, sending her to safety.
That taken care of, I appeared, compressing myself down to a size that could stand on the field where they wanted me. I fought to contain my power, and largely succeeded, but it was still too much for them to survive for long.
In a timeless moment I looked on my loved ones, and tears of fire ran down my cheeks to see the pain I caused them. I wanted to speak, to tell them how much I loved them, but I feared the sound would destroy them, so I remained mute. Besides which, my time was far too compressed; they couldn’t understand me, and if I allowed myself to remain for more than a few seconds my mere presence would be their deaths.
One presence was strange, though. Standing beside Gram and Alyssa was my old friend, Dorian Thornbear. Why is he here? Had I done that? Was he my final farewell to Rose? I had no knowledge of such a thing, and it seemed cruel. He would surely vanish as soon as I did, but then again, perhaps he would last long enough to give his own family a proper farewell.
As I eased my grasp on time, it began to flow slowly, like syrup. The crossbow bolt that they had used to summon me vanished into dust before it could reach me, and then golden walls began to grow up around me, sealing me into another dimension, a place where I could no longer threaten them.
As the golden cube solidified and became complete, I couldn’t help but admire it. My children had created something beyond belief, an enchantment that could annihilate even a true god, so long as he kept himself still enough for it to work. They did well, Penny, I told myself, wondering if she could hear me.
And then it activated.
***
Almost as soon as it had started, the pain was gone, leaving Gram gasping with relief. Raising his head from the ground, he assessed the situation. A shining gold cube stood between the four wizards, who were now locked rigidly in place, their arms outstretched as they poured themselves into their work.
Gram could see Sir Cyhan was struggling to his knees, the crossbow on the ground beside him, but Rose was nowhere to be seen. That alarmed him, but he needed to get on his feet before he could do anything. Turning to one side, he looked at the woman beside him. “Alyssa, are you…” He failed to complete the sentence though, as something hard slammed into the side of his head, knocking him sideways with enough force to cause his vision to go black for a second.
When it returned, it came with the sound of steel ringing against steel. He must have lost consciousness, for he was already halfway to his feet, Alyssa’s strong arms beneath his as she lifted him up. “We have to help him!” she shouted.
“Help who?” asked Gram, still rattled as his eyes began to focus once more.
“My father,” she replied, stepping away from him and lifting her spear. Then she added, “He’s losing.” Her voice was tinged with disbelief.
Gram understood when he took in the scene before them. Two armored knights were battling close by, blades flashing in the sun. One was Sir Cyhan, wielding one of the sun-swords Mordecai had created many years before, while the other was the newcomer, bearing what appeared to be Rose’s Thorn. It was impossible.
“I’m hallucinating,” muttered Gram, looking down at himself. He still wore his armor, the armor that was a part of the sword Matthew had remade. Speaking the command word, he summoned the weapon itself and it appeared in his hands, an exact match for the sword the stranger held—with one exception. His sword had a massive ruby set in its hilt, his father’s heart, and it was pulsing with red light in a way that he had never seen. The light thrummed with a fast and steady beat, as though it had come to life.
With a strange sense of wonder, Gram touched it with one hand, and even through his armor he could feel its heat. Numb with shock, he looked up at the man who was steadily beating his way through Sir Cyhan’s defenses. “Father?”
Chapter 44
Cyhan fought in a way he hadn’t experienced in years—for his life. There was no room for thought or strategy, for his foe was faster than thought, stronger than strategy. Cyhan knew him intimately, for they had been friends, and sometimes enemies, in the past.
He had been the better during their last great confrontation, only to lose because Dorian was willing to sacrifice himself for victory. But that was no longer the case. Cyhan was older now, and the pains from a lifetime of violence were set in his bones. Despite the dragon-bond, Dorian was stronger, Dorian was quicker, and his swordsmanship was just as it had always been, a thing of perfection.
Cyhan couldn’t see his old friend’s face because of their helmets, but he knew what it must look like, for he could feel the rage in his enemy’s sword as it broke through his guard, again and again. Even when his counters met it perfectly, Dorian drove through them, slamming Cyhan’s own blade into his armor.
As always, Cyhan improvised, but on an open field he had few options and Dorian anticipated every feint and ploy, turning them against him. Cyhan was losing, and though he was clad in
enchanted armor, he knew it would fail against the power of Dorian’s strikes if one were allowed to connect without being robbed of some of its force.
Cyhan had been in thousands of sword battles, but he felt something new. He was afraid, for now, unlike the past, he wanted to live. The reason for that will to live was charging in to help him, as Alyssa brought her spear in line to drive Dorian away from her father.
Her form was flawless as she performed a lunge thrust with the spear, aiming at Dorian’s hip, where the point could find purchase and deliver its power without slipping away, but it failed regardless of her skill. Dorian’s knees bent, allowing him to use his breastplate to deflect the deadly thrust while his sword continued on, uninterrupted until it slammed into Cyhan’s shoulder, tearing through the metal and cutting deeply into the flesh beneath.
Without hesitation, Dorian whipped the blade back and spun in reverse more quickly than even Alyssa could anticipate, as he drove the pommel of the great sword into the face of her helm. Stunned, she fell backward, and even as she fell, she saw death coming for her. The sword had gone up and was sweeping down again in a powerful full strike that would cut her in two if its effect on Cyhan’s armor was anything to judge by.
It was stopped by an identical blade, when Gram’s Thorn interposed itself. Both blades went downward under the force of Dorian’s blow, until they hovered in the air just above Alyssa’s neck. “Stop!” screamed Gram.
“You were dead the moment you tried to protect a man threatening my wife,” came Dorian’s voice, its sound hollow and metallic from inside the helm he wore. And then Thorn swept up in a backswing that threatened to take Gram’s head from his shoulders.
Transcendence and Rebellion Page 36
