by Frank Morin
“I was starting to worry you might not wake up.”
Student Eighteen was suddenly crouched beside him, looking like she’d been there all along. Her abrupt appearance startled him, and he just barely caught himself from shuffling away. That would’ve been a really bad idea. He was only a couple inches from the edge already.
Seeing her opened the floodgates of memories, and Connor gasped as he remembered his insane rage and the battle in his mind.
“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt all of you!” he cried.
As he thought about it, he realized he had only ever seen all of her personalities together as separate individuals when he had stepped into her mind to help her resurrect Aifric.
Aifric.
As if summoned from his thoughts, she appeared next to Student Eighteen, dressed in her normal Healer’s white robe. She looked healthy, although her smile seemed less brilliant than normal. Her hair was a bit disheveled and she grimaced, rubbing one temple.
“You gave us our worst nineteen-fold headache. It’s taken me and all the girls with healing affinities every ounce of our power to keep us intact.”
Connor breathed a sigh of relief. “So I didn’t kill any of you?”
His own pounding headache was still one of the worst he’d experienced, although it seemed to be easing. He could not imagine handling one almost twenty times as bad. Aifric and her mind sisters were tough.
Student Eighteen said, “It was a near thing. If we had pulled you into our minds first, you might have managed it. Luckily, we invaded your mind instead so you were only destroying our mental projections.”
The news was so welcome that it took Connor a moment to remember something else. “Hey, you stabbed me in the eye.”
She flashed him a quick smile and shrugged. “It was the only option left to us. I’m glad it worked. I don’t want to have to change my name to Student Nineteen.”
That did sound wrong.
She added, “You were about to drive us from your mind, and I doubt we would’ve managed to get back in. It was either throw the stones and take that gamble, or admit to everyone else that we failed and you had to be put down.”
“How does stabbing me in the eye in my own mind possibly save me? And how am I not dead?”
The memory of beating down their mind sisters was painfully clear, but the rest of the experience was still fuzzy.
“You were there as a mind projection too, although far more intimately connected with your own experiences. However, you’re also under the queen’s compulsion, which was insulating you from yourself.”
Aifric added, “The idea was that as long as we didn’t convince you that you were dead, which might have proven fatal even for you, we might be able to trick the queen’s compulsion long enough to spirit you away and help you regain control.”
“What compulsion?” Connor demanded. That sounded very bad. He didn’t feel out of control like he had moments ago. The memory of the queen seizing control over him in Donleavy filled him with remembered horror.
Fears multiplied instantly and he gripped Aifric’s hand. “Did the queen attack again?”
“Do you remember the rage?” She asked.
He did. That mindless rage had blocked recognition of his friends. “Was I really trying to kill you?” His voice dropped to an anguished whisper as he remembered more. “And Verena?”
That thought sizzled through his mind like a blast of diorite, filling him with terrible guilt. How could he ever raise a hand against the girl he loved with all his heart?
Student Eighteen and Aifric together quickly sketched out what had happened in Donleavy, how the queen had implanted that murderous order, and then concealed it from him. Connor listened with growing horror. He shivered to think of Queen Dreokt doing such an evil thing to them. He had not thought it possible to hate her more.
As he thought about the queen and her kill order, he became aware of his body. He was not in it. He glanced around at the magnificent view at the top of the pass and realized where he was.
“We’re in your mind, aren’t we?”
Student Eighteen nodded. “I climbed this peak a few years back. It’s a cherished memory, and one that I hoped was distanced enough from your experience that we could hold you here for a time and shield you from the queen’s influence.”
As soon as she said the words, he felt the connection back to his body solidify, and rage flowed down the conduit.”
“It’s working, but I can feel the rage. When I return to me, it’s going to hit me again, won’t it?”
The two women nodded together, but Student Eighteen said, “When you return, you’ll be aware of what’s going on. That should make a critical difference.”
Aifric added, “And we’ll be there to help. Together we should be able to throw off that compulsion and break you out of that rage.”
“And if we can’t?” Connor asked nervously.
The women did not respond, but just stared at him with a grave expression that told him everything. If he could not beat the queen’s mind bomb, they might not have any choice but to kill him before he could commit mass murder. He appreciated that they were risking their lives to help him, but he ground his teeth in frustration. Their world was so twisted. Friends shouldn’t have to be prepared to kill friends to save each other from worse fates.
Connor shivered to think how close he was right now to that ultimate sacrifice. In his body, he’d fallen completely to the queen’s influence. He needed a way to fight back, or he would die. He didn’t want to take to the grave the guilt of killing those he loved.
“Any idea what I should do?”
Student Eighteen said, “This is beyond our knowledge. You’re the one who’s ascended. You have much more control and power in the mindscape than we do, despite our experience. Being self-aware should give you the opportunity to fight back.”
Aifric said, “We’ll be right beside you.”
“Are you sure that’s wise? You might not survive if I crush you in the waking world,” Connor warned, even though he was deeply moved by their offer.
“If we fail, the queen’s going to kill us all anyway. We can’t lose this battle, or we’ll lose the war. Let’s not lose.” Student Eighteen rose and extended a hand to haul Connor to his feet.
He wrapped an arm around each of their shoulders in a quick group hug. “Thank you. Let’s go kick the grumpy old lady out of my head.”
21
Nicklaus the Brave
No sooner did he think it than the landscape around them snuffed out like a Solas lantern. Connor blinked as he returned in a rush to the natural world. He again lay on the ground, sealed to the earth by Evander. Trees were waving slightly in a soft breeze overhead, and the sky was brilliant blue, with only wisps of clouds. It was simply too nice of a day to die.
Aifric, who had been crouching over him, slowly collapsed to the side. Her face looked pale, her skin a little clammy and cold, as if she had pushed herself beyond her natural limits. She was breathing fast and shallow, but had not woken up.
The rage was still there, coiled in his mind, and it struck like an avalanche, sweeping away his conscious thoughts. It was like a firestorm of hate that snuffed out any other purpose besides destruction.
It eclipsed his determination to fight it, and he howled with a primal need to kill. His body convulsed as he fought the restraining earth. He tried to tap slate, but Evander had stripped off his boots, leaving him bereft of power stone.
He still had soapstone and he embraced it deeply. He seized a small pond nearby and yanked the waters out of it. Forming the water into a hundred spears of ice, he hurled them across the park in a flood of deadly rage.
Someone screamed, but most of the water was deflected high and away by a shield of air. He couldn’t tell if it was generated by a Petralist or by a cursed Builder. He drew water back to himself and drove it into the ground. Surrounding himself in a protective cocoon, he broke contact with earth and lunged to his
feet.
The huge Sentry stood barely ten feet away, dark eyes fixed on him. The female Builder flanked him on the left, the blond woman on the other side. Walls of earth erupted around the perimeter of the park, rising to thirty feet and enclosing them all in.
Good. The Builder would not be able to easily escape him this time. He ripped a tiny piece of marble off of his necklace and shoved it under his tongue. The wild euphoria of fire swept through him instantly and he smiled. It fit his need perfectly.
The women were shouting at him, but he couldn’t seem to hear them. Rage boiled in his ears, blocking sound, and his mind was filled with a howling cacophony of snarling voices, driving him to destroy the hated Builder now.
He took a single step toward her and started raising his hand to unleash his elemental wrath upon her. The giant Sentry slid forward to intercept him, but the Builder motioned him back. She was vulnerable, exposed, and he would destroy her.
“Connor, I love you,” she said simply, her big blue eyes locked on his, her expression earnest. He was still tapping chert, and the connection to her mind snapped into place.
Verena.
That link to her speared through the raging torrent of fury drowning out his thoughts and reached his true core. At that gentle, but powerful touch, he awakened and recognized that his thoughts had been buried under the avalanche of the queen’s will. Verena’s love wrapped him in a thing, insulating blanket that helped him separate himself from the rage, while her unbreakable determination to save him renewed his strength.
Connor remembered everything, the mind battle with Aifric, the truth she had shared about the queen’s mind bomb, and the horrible truth that he had been about to snuff out the life of the woman he loved more than life itself.
The connection lasted for only a second before the murder rage severed it and inundated his mind again with boiling fury. His hand rose again, and crimson flames appeared, wrapping it with the threat of painful death.
This time, Connor recognized what was going on. That contact with Verena had snapped him out of the first shackle. He knew what was happening, but although he fought against the queen’s compulsion, he could not stop it.
“Beware,” the giant warned, pulling Verena back.
“He was there for a second. I felt it,” she protested with tears in her eyes.
Connor tried to scream, “I am here!” but lacked control over his voice. He fought the compulsion with all his strength, but couldn’t regain control. He was trapped within his own mind, a passenger shackled inside himself and swept along on the worst living nightmare imaginable.
With growing horror, he felt himself embrace both water and fire and unleash it toward Verena. An incandescent spear of mixed elements erupted from him, aiming for her heart. Evander deflected it aside with an eruption of earth, but Connor swept it back around toward her back.
Tears were sliding down her cheeks now, but she activated a shieldstone, deflecting the elements aside again. Locked in his mind prison, Connor howled with frustration, but he could not break free and take control.
Just like the last time the queen had taken over his mind.
Just like porphyry had consumed him the first few times he unleashed it.
The similarities were unnerving, but he’d beaten porphyry. The queen’s murder rage was like a living thing, a monster with a thousand claws driven into his mind. Each claw held another shackle the bound his will.
The thought seemed to give the rage monster tangible form in his mind, and it coalesced into a black nightmare with dozens of eyes like pits of midnight, and claws burrowed into his brain.
Connor recoiled, but couldn’t escape. It was like a thousand ticks grasping his mind and sucking at his will, while pouring in hate to replace what it stole. It was disgusting and horrifying, and so very powerful.
But that tangible form gave Connor something to fight. He grappled with it in the silent vault of his mind, but couldn’t seem to grasp its claws to pull them free.
“I will rip out you,” he growled, but while he struggled to figure out how to resist it, his body continued to fight Verena and Evander. Elemental fire and water swept around them again and again, deflected by earth or Builder shields. Shona even leaped into the fray, trying to tackle him. Connor seized her with intertwined elements and threw her away so hard she smashed through a tree.
The blow infuriated her and she ripped the tree out by the roots and advanced again, holding it like a club. She growled, “I’ll knock sense back into your head, Connor.”
“I’m surprised you’re not encouraging him,” Verena said as she ducked another elemental barrage.
“Don’t be petty,” Shona chided.
Verena scowled, but turned back to Connor, who was busy deflecting a barrage of earthen spears from Evander.
“Connor, wake up!” Verena shouted.
“We are running out of time. We must contain or destroy him,” Evander said.
“Don’t you dare hurt him. I’ll figure it out,” she said.
I’m the one who needs to figure it out, Connor shouted as he struggled against the rage monster controlling his mind. He tried seizing his affinities, hoping to block it from using them, but again it defeated his best efforts. He fought it with every bit of willpower, but he simply wasn’t strong enough.
Queen Dreokt had wrenched away control over his mind with terrifying ease in Donleavy. How could he defeat her now?
He didn’t know.
Evander’s attack was little more than a delaying tactic. Connor was grateful for that, but how long before he grew tired of the fight and simply entombed Connor a hundred feet below ground? The thought of getting squashed to death terrified him, but hurting Verena was scarier. He found himself starting to hope Evander didn’t hesitate much longer.
As the rage monster forced him to launch his elements at Verena again, they were blocked, but from another source. Nicklaus soared over the earthen wall, gliding on fiery wings like ones Connor had taught him to build. The rage monster in Connor’s mind focused on the boy with terrifying intensity, and although Connor fought it with all his strength, it attacked the child with a vengeance.
Flames and water speared toward Nicklaus from every side, overwhelming his defenses and sweeping in, as if to incinerate him and rip his limbs off. He screamed in fear, but activated a powerful shieldstone. It became visible around him as the rage monster surrounded him with elemental fury, tearing at the shielding, trying to break through.
“Evander, help him!” Verena shouted.
Earth buckled under Connor, crashing him to the ground, but somehow the rage monster kept up the blistering attack against the boy. Evander might destroy Connor’s body, but the rage monster would commit murder anyway.
Connor screamed and fought desperately, imagining his mind like an arena where he wrestled against the blob-like rage monster. He threw himself against it, tearing at its claws and gouging its many eyes, driven by fear for Nicklaus. For a second, the new approach seemed to work, and the elements battering Nicklaus’ shield wavered.
In that second, Nicklaus swept them aside. He hovered in the air, using a quartzite block as a thruster, and lifted a small figurine high. It was a piece of sculpted soapstone. Through the red haze of fury, Connor felt a new kind of fear. What was the boy planning?
His young face set with determination, Nicklaus declared, “You’re sick, Connor. This is going to hurt, but I hope it helps.”
All of the waters scattered around the earthen prison where they fought rippled and crashed inward toward Nicklaus. Still wrestling with all his might against the rage monster, Connor felt his affinity senses, as if from a great distance. He clearly sensed when Nicklaus tapped soapstone. The boy’s will blazed like lightning in Connor’s mind, temporarily driving back the rage monster.
Connor started to grin. Whatever Nicklaus was doing, it was working!
Waters gathered under the boy, forming a tall column that stretched down to the ground. He laughed
with pure, childlike thrill.
Then Connor felt the soapstone rebound against Nicklaus. It felt like the affinity exploded against the boy, and the air boomed with thunder. The concussion blasted Nicklaus higher, somersaulting over and over as his terrified scream echoed between the buildings. The sculpted soapstone tumbled from Nicklaus’ nerveless fingers as his limp body began to fall.
“Nicklaus!” Verena screamed. She rounded on Connor with such an expression of rage, if he had been in control of himself, he would have started running.
He was so shocked at the unexpected event that the rage monster tackled him, pinning his limbs with its claws and restraining him by its sheer mass and size. It seized control over him again and trussed him with bands of hate. He sensed its deep satisfaction that it was succeeding at its mission.
What had happened to Nicklaus? Connor didn’t understand it, and that terrified him. Had the rage monster somehow struck him down without Connor feeling it?
Shona cast her tree club aside and ran to catch Nicklaus before he struck the ground. Verena marched toward Connor, her expression as determined as he had ever seen. The rage monster shoved claws deeper into Connor’s mind and forced him to strike at her again with water and fire, but Evander deflected his strikes away.
Verena walked through it all, never slowing, never looking away, her stride implacable. She said evenly, “Connor, I will reach you. I will save you. Or we will both die right now.”
22
Sometimes It Takes a Village
Connor would not allow Verena to die. He screamed and fought, seeking for any additional fraction of strength he’d overlooked before.
