One sword knocked Victor’s own out of the way. The second came down in what would be a killing stroke.
And then a warpsteel sword inserted itself in the way, saving Victor and knocking Rathri off balance for the first time in the entire fight.
“You shouldn’t have left yourself that open.”
Victor looked up at a strange but familiar face.
“Talinir!”
The Eldani warden smiled and faced the assassin. “You’re not the one I expected, but if you stand against this friend of mine, that’s all I need to know.”
“Then you will fall with them,” Rathri said. He launched forward again.
“Pathetic.”
Volraag took one step and punched Marshal in the face. His half-brother went down, rolled once, and clutched at the bloody wound in his side. His sword clattered away.
“All this time, I’ve been imagining an epic confrontation between the two of us,” he said, stepping closer. “I would win, of course, but it would be a struggle of might and magic.” He looked down at Marshal. “Instead I find you almost dead already and…” He kicked Marshal in the side, eliciting a loud cry. “…my own powers make me almost invulnerable to yours.”
In truth, the invulnerability surprised Volraag. Only recently, practicing with Tezan, had he discovered how to use his Lord’s power as a kind of shield, radiating outward from his body. But even so, he should not have been able to completely ignore Marshal’s attack. The new power absorbed from the Eldani must have made the difference.
He looked up. Tezan waited for him. And others were arriving. Stealing Marshal’s power would have to wait. And yet, if he left him here, one of the curse-stalkers might find him. Volraag felt fairly certain if that happened, their father’s power would come to him. But after everything else that had happened, he didn’t want to take the chance.
Something Rathri said came back to him. He bent and grabbed Marshal’s tunic, prompting a groan. With little effort, Volraag dragged him back up the path, then down the steps into the tunnel.
The tunnels were supposed to suppress magic or something like that. Maybe it would be enough to keep Marshal in place and keep anything else from finishing him off.
“Farewell, brother. Once I’ve dealt with your friends, I’ll come back for you.”
CHAPTER SEVENTY-EIGHT
SERI STEPPED UP onto the platform next to Forerunner. Calu stood just below, about to step out into the glistening portal. On another platform to her left, Tezan, the false king, stood watching. What was he doing here?
Calu stepped into the portal and sank in. He took another step. It looked like he waded into nothing more than a pool of water.
“Why isn’t he going right through?” Seri wondered aloud.
“The portal isn’t fully open,” Forerunner said. He leaned in close to Seri and said in a much lower voice, “He will cross over in just a few seconds, unless you stop him.”
“Why would I stop him?” She answered in the same quiet tones.
“Once he enters the Starlit Realm, your world will be in grave danger.”
“Why are you telling me this? I thought he was your friend.”
“Let’s just say I have grown rather fond of this world in the time I have spent here.” Forerunner’s face suddenly brightened. “Oh! One of the decisive moments approaches. I have someone I must speak to!” He took off on a run around the right side of the portal.
Seri watched him go, then turned back to watch Calu, now waist-deep. How could she stop him? She glanced over at Tezan, still wondering about his place in all this. She blinked, activating her star-sight, and gasped in wonder.
Before, the portal had appeared as a glistening, water-like substance. With her star-sight, it became a whirlpool of endless colors swirling all in one direction. It reminded her of the effect she saw when she and Marshal combined their powers, but on a much greater scale.
She studied the colors. At first glance, they appeared to fill the entire area, but on closer examination, she could see some gaps. Maybe that’s what Forerunner meant about it being partly open. Then to keep it closed, she needed to tighten things up.
She knelt and grasped two of the largest swirling beams of light and pulled. Usually, when she grabbed a beam of magic, it rushed into her. These beams fought back, pulling against her and the swirling portal simultaneously. She held tight, wondering if she were making any kind of difference.
“What are you doing, child?” Calu asked, turning to look back at her. His eyes narrowed.
Victor whooped as he scrambled to his feet. Rathri could not possibly take on all three of them. In fact, he seemed focused entirely on Talinir. Victor took a moment to catch his breath.
He glanced at Ixchel. She nodded at him, then swung around to the left. Victor duplicated her movements in the other direction.
Seeing their motion, Rathri sheathed one of his swords while using the other to deflect Talinir’s swing. He grabbed something from his belt and threw it to the ground. Smoke erupted in a blossoming cloud.
Victor coughed and stepped back.
“Trickery,” murmured Talinir. He held a defensive stance, warpsteel blade aimed at the cloud.
Ixchel hesitated, then dropped back as well.
As the smoke dissipated, Victor saw no sign of Rathri. For a moment, he breathed a sigh of relief, but it caught in his throat as he remembered the assassin’s efforts earlier. His true target. Seri.
“Come on!” Victor charged up the hill.
Dravid gritted his teeth and pulled himself up another step. Only three more to go. He paused to look over the edge.
Seri stood on a platform opposite him. She did something with her hands, but he couldn’t make it out. Calu seemed to have descended somewhere, as Dravid could only see his top half. On another platform to the right, Tezan stood alone. Dravid scowled at the sight of the man who had tried to become king.
Another rumble came from below and Volraag launched into the air. Had he killed Marshal, then? Before Volraag landed, a hand grabbed Dravid’s shoulder and he whirled to find himself looking up at Forerunner.
“This is the moment, Dravid!”
“What are you talking about?” Dravid put the point of his crutch onto the next step.
“I told you you would have a choice to make. That you could choose what would be restored to you. This is it. You must choose, and choose now!”
Dravid pulled himself up to the step. Two more. “Why now?”
Forerunner released his shoulder and pointed first toward Calu. “It all comes down to right now. While Calu struggles against Seri to move through the portal, his magic spreads throughout it. All you have to do is cross this platform and slide down into it yourself.” He paused for dramatic effect. “And your leg will be healed.”
As easy as that? Dravid put his crutch onto the next step.
Forerunner pointed back down the steps. “Or the other choice. What do you want: your leg or your purpose?”
“How is my purpose down there?” He pulled up again. Only one more step to the platform.
“Volraag has left Marshal to die. And he will die.” Forerunner tilted his head. “Unless you go back to him.”
“What can I do?” Dravid put his crutch onto the platform.
“You can save him. You have the power. And you’re the only one who can.”
“Why don’t you go save him?”
Forerunner glanced back. “My purpose is here. Yours is there. Or here also. It’s your choice, as I said.”
“That’s—”
“That’s the decision you must make. I never said it would be easy. Choose, but choose swiftly. Your healing or your purpose. What will be restored to you?”
Dravid stared at him. He looked down at Calu, then to the right where Volraag landed next to Tezan. Everything was happening too fast. How could he possibly make this kind of decision now?
Forerunner began to run back around the platform. “Choose now!” he called back.
>
The portal was so close. Only a few steps and Dravid could have his leg back. Then maybe he could turn and run back down to Marshal… No. If he had learned anything from Forerunner over the past few weeks, he knew he spoke the truth now. He had to choose. Healing for himself or life for Marshal. And if he saved Marshal, then helping him, a man he didn’t even like, would become his purpose in life?
His crutch shifted.
From his hidden vantage point, Kishin saw what none of the others could, so focused were they on their individual tasks and desires. He had to act now.
He leaped out onto the walkway directly in front of Forerunner, who skidded to a stop. The flamboyant man, shocked to see him, nearly lost his balance. Kishin ignored him and raced in the opposite direction, toward the eastern platform. “Theon grant me speed,” he whispered.
Seri concentrated on something, holding her hands out apart. Calu, in the center of the portal, began to manifest some kind of beam of golden light in his hands. Volraag grabbed Tezan’s shoulder and pointed at Calu.
All of these things Kishin noticed, mostly through his peripheral vision. His focus lay just beyond.
He grasped the staff with both hands near one end and planted the other on the stone walkway. He vaulted over Seri, who stared at him open-mouthed. In the air, he shifted his grip and brought the staff swinging forward.
He landed on the platform with a shout.
Rathri’s descending sword slammed into his outstretched staff only inches above Seri’s head.
Marshal moaned. His face felt wet. Why? It took a few moments to realize he lay on the stone path in the tunnel. The wetness came from his own blood, pooling around him.
In all of his journeys, with all the wonders he had seen, he never thought it would end like this. Volraag was right. Pathetic.
He failed everyone. Mama. Nian. All of his squad. Dead now. And what hope did the others have against Volraag without him? Victor. Seri. If not dead already, they would be.
Aelia told him he had a purpose in this life. This was it?
A tear rolled off his cheek and hit the pool of blood. A tremor radiated out from it.
He still had his power. But not much else. He wouldn’t last much longer. Any attempt to move now would only make him bleed out even faster.
He tried directing a burst of power upward, hoping to signal the others somehow. But the magic went nowhere. Something about the cave blocked it? That seemed to fit with his luck. Nothing worked. No hope.
But he released power a moment ago. Down. Into the ground. Another idea came to him. An idea born of madness. It could destroy him and maybe everyone else. But it might just destroy Volraag.
Marshal let his eyes slip closed, but did not let himself slip any further. He knew if he did, he would be gone. Power flowed out from his body into the ground. Tremors radiated outward. Further and further he let his power spread in an ever-increasing radius.
In his mind, Marshal put words to the power. “Magic. Magic is here. Come.”
“Come,” he whispered.
Varion had been a horrible father. But Volraag had learned one important thing from him: when an unexpected possibility appears, seize it.
The strange man—Calu—had threatened him, but now appeared trapped within the portal. And now he manifested some kind of magical spear? He glared at Seri, whom Volraag had not seen arrive. “Release me!” the stranger shouted at her.
So many others. A hooded man with a staff ran in front of the other stranger who called himself Forerunner. Rathri appeared out of the jungle to the right. The cripple stood on the western platform. But only one mattered at the moment.
Volraag pointed to Calu. “Tezan. He bursts with power. I want it.”
Tezan nodded and reached out.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-NINE
DRAVID SURPRISED HIMSELF. The choice wasn’t that difficult after all.
He turned and began to descend the stairs as fast as he could.
Kishin drew his sword just in time to deflect Rathri’s second attack. His brain struggled to comprehend. Looking at the assassin felt like looking into a twisted mirror of what he had been not long ago. All he had heard about a second leper assassin was true somehow.
“A staff, Kishin? Really?” The leper’s voice rasped as if every syllable were painful. Kishin’s own curse had never been that bad. At least he had kept his voice.
“How do you know me? Who are you?” Kishin yanked back on his staff at the same time his opponent pulled back on his sword. The two came apart and both assailants stumbled.
“I am what you could never be. I am the god of death.”
Kishin spun the staff, being careful not to hit Seri. As the leper ducked, Kishin slashed low. Somehow, his opponent dodged between the weapons, stabbing forward with both of his own swords. Kishin brought the staff down in time to deflect them both, but the blades came within an inch of his face.
“You are no god,” he growled.
“When you bow to me as your life’s blood drains, you will know the truth.”
Chaos surrounded Seri.
Out of nowhere, the pilgrim leaped over her and saved her life from the assassin. Volraag joined Tezan and now they…
Seri’s star-sight showed her an unexpected horror. Just as Calu had been about to throw a magic-formed spear at her, Tezan reached out. As she had seen him do back on Zes Sivas, he pulled at Calu, siphoning his power. A thick beam of golden light erupted from Calu’s chest and rushed into Tezan. The spear dissolved.
Tezan’s other hand shot out. The power flowed from it and into Volraag, who lifted both fists out to his sides in exultant pleasure.
Should she let Calu go? Forerunner said their world would be in danger if he went through. But if Volraag gained all of Calu’s amazing power, wouldn’t that be just as bad? The strain of holding the portal began to tell. Her arms vibrated. But so did everything else. A low tremor shook the ground.
She looked up to see Forerunner rejoin her. “What should I do?” she cried.
For the first time since she had known him, Forerunner’s face showed real fear. “I don’t know,” he whispered.
Victor stumbled on the first step. Was it his imagination, or was everything shaking? Ixchel took advantage of his mistake and rushed past him. Talinir came right behind.
“Marshal!” Victor shouted.
Kishin parried another attack, then used the momentum to strike back. Even though he had not fought with a staff in years, he wielded it well enough as a secondary weapon to keep his opponent on his toes. And he needed every advantage here. It did not take long to realize this assassin equaled him in martial prowess. He might even be better.
Out of the corner of his eye, Kishin saw Volraag’s flunky with arms outstretched. And Volraag seemed to be glowing brighter with each moment. That could not be good.
“Somebody stop him!” Seri screamed behind him.
Stop who?
“He is giving Volraag more power,” Forerunner said. “I don’t know if he can be stopped.”
Anyone could be stopped.
Kishin spun around the assassin, intending to swing the staff at Volraag’s companion.
The leper dropped one sword and grabbed the staff. He sneered at Kishin.
“Not like that.”
Dravid sat and slid down the final steps into the tunnel. Marshal lay unmoving in a large pool of blood. Already dead? No. The ground still shook beneath them. It had to be Marshal doing that.
Now what? Forerunner said only he could save Marshal. But how? Dravid ran his hands through his hair. What could he do?
Forerunner and Calu healed people. Dravid had absorbed some of Forerunner’s power. Could he do the same? He pulled himself next to Marshal and considered. He knew how to create semi-solid items of magic. That didn’t seem to be of much use here.
A movement caught his eye. He turned and stared in horror as a curse-stalker approached the stairs leading to the tunnel entrance. It looked down at the two of them. A h
iss escaped its lips.
A second curse-stalker appeared beside the first. Its twin tongues flipped out a few feet, as if testing the air, then returned to its mouth. It took a step down toward them.
Kishin pulled on the staff. Rathri pulled back.
He shot a glance at Tezan and Volraag. Volraag’s tunic tore apart. His muscles were growing!
Seri whimpered.
Footsteps approached on the stairs, but they would not be soon enough.
The choice belonged to Kishin alone.
Dravid felt for his power. He might be able to hold his own against one curse-stalker, but not two.
The ground rumbled again. Marshal kept releasing steady pulses of magic. Why? His power summoned these creatures right to them!
The curse-stalker put its foot on the top step, hesitated, then pulled it back up. The other one looked all around at the tunnel entrance. Then both of them turned and disappeared in the other direction.
Dravid realized he was holding his breath and let it go. He turned back to Marshal. By now, his hand glowed with the familiar warmth of the golden power.
When Forerunner healed Dravid, he held his hand over the wound. Dravid reached out and held his hand over Marshal’s wound. Blood continued to ooze out of it, but very slowly. Was that good or bad?
Dravid closed his eyes and focused. What did he know? When using the magic of Antises, a mage needed to focus on the vibrations emitted by all things. Trying to channel magic into a living thing involved sensing the life within that thing and focusing the magic in between it. Yet now he wielded a different magic, one he didn’t fully understand. He didn’t want to channel between life; he wanted to preserve life.
Still, focusing on life might help. Except Dravid had never mastered that ability. Seri could do it; her skills far exceeded his. Why wasn’t she here?
Until All Bonds Are Broken Page 39
