Aysgarth touched the pendant around his neck. “Yes,” he muttered. His mood brightened. “If these gifts you have given me are so powerful why not use them to confront this coming darkness?”
Shadow touched his lips again. “Before significant change is possible, first must come the awakening. They are all blind, Corvin. You see how they look at us. How they look at me,” she added.
“Is there no other way? You speak of a war that inflicts total destruction. How can we rebuild something from nothing? There must be another way,” repeated Aysgarth. “Another way to prevent the pain that will be inflicted on you.”
Shadow never answered. She led Aysgarth down the rotunda’s stairs. As they emerged into the pervading moonlight, she let down her hair that was typically worn in a high ponytail. It fell over her shoulders like a layer of silk. She turned. Aysgarth was placed in a trance at the sight of the seductive glance displayed in her catlike eyes. She looked every bit the predator. Her slender fingers slowly loosened her garment’s drawstring. Aysgarth continued staring with anticipation as her hands moved down her chest. Her shoulders slipped out of her robe and she deliberately allowed it to fall only to waist level, leaving Aysgarth wanting more.
“I have come to learn that words alone cannot express my admiration for you,” whispered Shadow. “When others fled at the mere sight of me, you held fast; the action of a true warrior.” She paused. “At the moment of my death, it will be you, Corvin, who holds my heart.”
With misty eyes that betrayed his effort to remain strong, Aysgarth replied, “Is that your attempt at humor?” He pulled her against his lean frame. His hand trembled as he caressed one of her purple highlights. “I will not rest until we are together again.”
Elinor was overcome with emotion as she watched Aysgarth lay Shadow on the ground. Their embrace was visceral, and full of passion. It was the purest act Elinor had ever set eyes on. Lust or want or need was an afterthought. Their union could only be described as oneness—the coming together of two souls. Unbridled sentiment poured from Elinor. The ground shook and the scene of Raven Rock dissipated. Heat originating from her chest traveled outward to her limbs, radiating serene warmth. She no longer felt alone. The void became alive. An explosion of light showered the space with vivid colors and congruent sounds of joy. A bridge formed underfoot, made from bands of light that streamed from the Origin in the direction of the opening that was still visible in the distance. Droplets developed on Elinor’s attire. They multiplied. Her entire being was consumed by them. She felt an indescribable connection to an external force compelling her toward the opening. Nacreous streaks sped past her. Resounding voices declared, “Free him. Return her heart.”
Elinor was propelled through the breach.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Water sloshed over the sides as the birthing pool became colored by lutescent fragments. Bubbles rose to the surface. The central fire pit that had gone quiet with Elinor’s decline in health roared to life, releasing white flames. Candles that had been placed in nooks and hollowed openings rose from their cold confines to float in midair, and then burned lively while upside down. There was not a darkened corner or shadow to be found. Elinor vaulted from the pool, landing next to her polearm, and within striking distance of Simtoren.
He looked in amazement at her transformation. Her green eyes sparkled, bursting with powdery flecks. The dark circles around them and their paltry appearance were gone. Elinor’s afterglow flowed from every part of her body—from her fiery hair and the tiny crevices across her lips to the tip of her upturned nose—creating a fluttering profile that made her seem like a burgeoning flame. As she shone brighter, so too did the space. Energy stored within the pendant that had been increasing with every light-bearer killed reached a climax. The storm outside, and the one inside of Elinor, quieted. Time slowed to a crawl. The fire and candlelight stopped flickering; the surface of the pool became still; algae ceased glowing. Then all available light, even the dead scavenger’s conjured light, was absorbed into Elinor’s pendant.
There was a brief moment of absolute darkness, then the pendant discharged its stored energy. Simtoren was doubled over by the resulting shock wave. Warmth and energy flowed into every opening, creating fluid plumes that wound their way through the temple. Shafts, corridors, paths, and hallways were engulfed. One after another, light-bearers materialized. They rose from the temple’s floors and surfaced from walls. Hundreds of them, wearing the same clothing and looking every bit as alive as Elinor, except for their transparent silhouettes. They gathered around her.
“You have an army,” Simtoren uttered in disbelief.
Appearing flawless with not a drop of water on her, Elinor stood over Simtoren. “I have a family,” she replied. “More than I can say for you.” Her polearm was lowered against his throat. “Get out of my home!”
Filled with regret, Simtoren swallowed hard. “I swore to watch over you as I would my own flesh and blood. I failed in that duty, my lady. I may not be able to correct my misdeeds, and I dare not ask for your forgiveness.” He took a long pause to admire Elinor. Her afterglow was breathtaking. “Perhaps on this day you will remember my sacrifice as a means to my deliverance. I know now I am undeserving of your affection.” Simtoren found Morbis within the crowd. “For you, my kindred friend. My last act is for you.” He slowly stood as to be nonthreatening. “Go, Elinor. I will hold the line. The Blood Queen and I have unfinished matters to discuss.”
Simtoren backed away while keeping a keen eye on the gathering. The sight of them was glorious. An entire tribe reborn from light. Growing up he had heard stories that light-bearers held the secret to immortality. Like most, Simtoren had dismissed these claims. But as he stood before them at the pinnacle of all they had created, he grasped their true purpose. Light-bearers were not meant to control light, they were the light. Simtoren marveled at how perfect they were; each in their own right a masterpiece of simplicity.
Renowned for their peaceful nature and often mocked for it, light-bearers were considered weak and regarded as poor allies. Why had the other tribes not seen their true nature sooner? Knowing his fate had already been decided, Simtoren reflected upon this as he descended the stairs and ducked through the opening that would take him to his rendezvous with the Blood Queen. “You have finally met your equal,” he chuckled, and then dashed for the lake.
Protected from the storm by a see-through layer consistent with that of fog, Ka΄Phar sneered at Zi’s assault on the horde. Tar fell from the sky in a misty spray, searing their exoskeletons and boiling their innards from the inside out. Zi’s attack left large gaps in the bridge where scavengers had fled below the surface. Aurora-hunters screeched as they burned and succumbed to the water. Those that had made it across clung to roots and gathered on silt deposits, disoriented by the sound of the tree’s profound thumping.
Ka-Phar proceeded to the edge of the lake. She thought about entering the temple to finish off Elinor but reconsidered when saturating light spilled from the Eternal Tree. It poured out and swirled around the trunk in brilliant streams of golden yellow and frosty white. The light gathered momentum and then shot skyward, forming a single flow of intense radiance that slammed against the shroud, creating an opening directly above the tree. Intense sunlight filtered down.
“No!” howled Ka΄Phar. “This is the age of Ka΄Phar! You belong to me now!”
Fire and lightning shot from her hands. When both elements struck the tree, she was forcefully propelled backward. Her hair and dress quickly became drenched by the storm. Mud covered her body. She tried to get up but slipped on the saturated ground. She screamed and pounded her hands against the filth. From her diminished vantage point, Ka΄Phar watched Zi make another pass. Her entire plan was unraveling. Movement from across the lake garnered her attention. Through the relentless downpour, Ka΄Phar saw a Lancian running from the temple, waving his fist in the air, and frantically calling for the Blood Queen. Aurora-hunters swarmed, following the distinct
vibrations of stomping footfalls. Ka΄Phar leapt to her feet. By a flick of her wrist, a tenebrous whirlwind formed to rescue the Lancian from being torn apart.
Simtoren reappeared across the lake and fell from the sky, facedown. He pried himself out of the thick sludge, gasping for air. His bandaged wrist was used in a pitiful attempt to clear his eyes since his other was tightly clutching an object close to his chest.
“Well?” asked Ka΄Phar.
Her curtness caused Simtoren to jump. He glanced over his shoulder. The Blood Queen was disheveled and filthy, but he would know her eyes anywhere; cold, calculating, and ruthless. She was the embodiment of what he imagined evil to look like. But with more pizzazz and a lot less candor. Unsure of himself, he swallowed. Simtoren responded in a shaky voice, “I have it, my queen. The coruscant. As you requested.”
Her mood softened. “Oh Simi,” she said. “I couldn’t have planned this any better if I had tried.” She cackled. “I wanted the light-bearer not only to drain her power, but to take back what rightfully is mine. She’d be dead already if not for my sister’s little intervention. Then she escapes with the coruscant, only to deliver it to you.” She laughed again. “My backup plan. Oh, Simi, it’s perfect.” She reached out her hand. “I’ll take that.”
“You will let us be, as promised?”
“Well, of course I will. We had a deal, didn’t we?”
Simtoren could tell by her smirk that he was being toyed with. He knew the look well. Slowly, he turned to face Ka΄Phar, struggling on his knees with only one hand for balance. Behind her, his failing eyes tracked a blurry orb high in the tree as it exited the trunk. He knew in his bones that Elinor was on the move.
“Why, Simi, you’ve gone and lost a hand. A hand that bleeds is a hand in need.”
Simtoren refused to accept Ka΄Phar’s help. “I can do it myself.” He was stalling.
“Fine, have it your way. Be a man if you must.” Ka΄Phar impatiently hovered. “Did you know,” she continued, “you’re the last Lancian? You and the little one have something in common.” She rolled her eyes. “The last light-bearer and the last Lancian. How poetic. I’m rather touched by the sentiment of it all.” Ka΄Phar grabbed Simtoren around the neck and hauled him to his feet. She snatched the object out of his hand and then spun him. He was held from behind in a choke hold. “Thank you for this, Simi. Unfortunately, the girl must die. But what do I do with you? You can be rather useful at times. How about it, Simi? Would you like to be my pet again?”
Simtoren had played his part. He hoped he had given Elinor enough time to escape, or to formulate a tactical plan to defend the temple if she so chose to. After all, she now had an army on her side. Her plans may have been unclear to him, but Simtoren understood he would die a better man than he would have if he had chosen to do nothing. Or worse, if he had followed through with his original intent. Dishonor and guilt were at the forefront of his thoughts. They surged to the surface. His eyes glazed over while his life replayed in a flurry of emotional recollections. Every decision made, every promise broken—no matter how trivial or significant—each had played a part leading up to the moment at hand. Simtoren’s body shook. But instead of tears of remorse, he burst into laughter. Loud, uncontrollable laughter.
Ka΄Phar seethed at his rebuke. “Have it your way. I’ll take great pleasure in your death. It will be slow, and painful. You remember what it felt like to be a raven, don’t you?” She pursed her lips, finding joy in recalling Simtoren’s screams when she had tossed him from the window. “Dwell on it while I deal with your little lover.” She shoved Simtoren to the ground. Ka΄Phar unraveled the cloth wrapped around what she believed to be the coruscant. Her eyes bulged when she saw that Simtoren had provided her with an everyday, plain-looking, good-for-nothing hunk of stone. Two words had been hastily etched across it. Sea Wolf.
The wretched cry released by Ka΄Phar brought a comforting smile to Simtoren’s face. He closed his eyes and folded his arms across his chest. In a raspy voice he decreed, “With the light from our souls and the blood in our veins, we will hold the line. They will crush, they will drown, they will burn in our wake. For we are ravens of the rock, wolves of the sea. There will be no surrender, nor compromise, nor—” He never had the opportunity to finish.
Using a fistful of hair, Simtoren was yanked to his knees by Ka΄Phar. Her fist penetrated his back, severing his spine, and punched through his chest. Held in her hand was Simtoren’s still-beating heart. She squeezed and whispered in his ear, “This one will do.” Simtoren was already dead when his limp body hit the soggy soil. In style, Ka΄Phar strutted away, leaving Simtoren’s corpse to the scavengers.
On her way to the shoreline she glimpsed the aftermath of Zi’s destruction. Her attack on the Eternal Tree had ended in utter failure. Dead scavengers bobbed on the surface and the ones that survived were swimming in every direction, away from steaming carcasses and drowning aurora-hunters. Movement on one of the tree’s upper branches caught her eye. She looked closer. The presence of a vivid afterglow was a clear sign that Elinor had managed to regain her abilities. Ka΄Phar’s plans had been thwarted on multiple fronts. Like her nemesis, Ka΄Phar too had had enough. She crouched and, in a fierce burst of rage, her body lurched upright and her hands shot forward, generating a wave that surged toward the tree.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Like at Brim Hall, extended exposure to sunlight irritated Elinor’s eyes. She watched the storm’s threatening clouds parting around a shaft of light that was encircling the Eternal Tree. Within it, a protective zone had been created, free of wind and rain and slashes of dramatic lightning. A fierce struggle was occurring where the shroud collided with the beam. Static discharge crackled overhead from electric arcs that prevented the breach from collapsing. Bright flashes and plummeting fireballs suggested two equally imposing forces that were competing for dominance.
Elinor scampered along a snaking branch while keeping a watchful eye across the lake. The woman had left Simtoren in a heap and was crouched by the shore. Then she released a horrid screech. A distortion from her hands struck the surface, creating a groundswell that started small and then swiftly became a wall of rising water. The wave swelled to the same height that Elinor ran at. She considered turning around to take shelter inside the temple, but then reconsidered when she looked back and saw how far she had already come; she would never make it back before the wave struck.
She frantically searched for a means to higher ground. Below, aurora-hunters were creeping up the trunk and nearing several openings to the temple. Elinor was disgusted at the thought of them getting inside again. She ducked under one of the voluminous flowers that was no longer spinning and then gazed ahead. The farther she ran, the thinner the branch became.
Light-bearer. Harness your power.
Is the voice another one of the woman’s tricks? thought Elinor. She was concealed from view by the approaching wave. The woman could be anywhere. Elinor’s initial instinct was to ignore Aysgarth. That quickly changed however when she saw her kin exiting the temple in droves. Like her, they seemed to be enraged by the presence of aurora-hunters. They swarmed like bees protecting a hive, hacking with their polearms in a coordinated strike. The sight of light-bearers on the offensive gave Elinor pause. She reconsidered Aysgarth’s words.
Since their first dreamlike encounter, Elinor had sensed Aysgarth was trustworthy. They seemed to be on the same side in a Kalloire where allies had become a thing of the past. There had been no sign of the child or the ancient one. From Elinor’s perspective, the Ma΄Ranie had likely been wiped out by the woolȧrook, and Aysgarth and Zi were all that remained of the living. She had come to believe there were other survivors, but had no idea where to begin her search. At least with Aysgarth she knew where to go. It was no longer a matter of whether Aysgarth was alive or not; Elinor had already accepted he was. But her connection to him remained unknown.
Elinor slowed her pace as his voice resonated in her mind: Harness your pow
er. Aysgarth had spoken those same words when she had been drowning in the lake. She recalled that prior to the scavenger rescuing her the water had turned brighter, and then was followed by a strange vibration. It was remembering that vibration, combined with her recollection of what she had done to the woolȧrook that gave Elinor the answer she was searching for.
As she emerged from her reverie, Elinor realized she was no longer running. Her hands were clutching her polearm that had been extended as if she was preparing to defend herself. The sight of so many warriors protecting their home was a source of great inspiration. Her heart swelled. To her, the temple had been but a brief respite from a hostile and dying land. But to those that had already departed, it must have represented so much more; a sanctuary as Asnir had intended. Elinor didn’t understand the presence of the light-bearers or how it was possible, but the magic that was on display proved that the impossible was nothing more than a frame of mind.
She planted her feet and faced the looming surge. As she did when summoning fire, Elinor closed her eyes and focused on her pendant. Her body relaxed and heat spread outward from her chest. A numbing sensation rippled through her arms. Elinor’s eyes snapped open. Her afterglow fluctuated. And then, with a forceful grunt, she placed one foot forward while simultaneously thrusting with her polearm.
Potent energy moved outward in a curved distortion and slammed against the wave. There was a violent collision, followed by a spectacular flash that resulted in a sweeping shock wave. With the wave’s dissipation, scavenger and aurora-hunter carcasses that had been caught in its path dropped out of the sky. Those living were momentarily stunned by the reverberations of the impact. A rainbow formed over the tree from descending mist that drifted into the light; storm clouds dispersed. From across the lake Elinor saw the woman leering at her with a look of disgust.
Shadow Kalloire Page 18
