by J. A. Comley
Kyron snatched it with magic and levitated it in the same way he had the false Star. Instead of crumbling, this half-glowed brightly.
Larkel staggered to his feet, still gasping as the wound in his chest finished healing and his bones reset themselves.
“At least this one is real,” Kyron said. A box appeared in mid-air beside him and he levitated it in. “I will have the other half soon enough.”
Waving his staff, he lifted Larkel off his feet and held him suspended in the air. He dragged Starla forward in her bonds, blood soaking into the ash-green fabric of her breeches and shirt.
“So stupid, to think that you ever could have defeated me.” A white light passed through Starla's bonds and she jerked as if electrocuted, her scream coming out between clenched teeth.
Ditte shifted uncomfortably, his eyes still locked on the place of Trent's corruption. The Baron stood beside him again.
“What are you still doing here? Get what is left of our troops organised. We're leaving soon. The traitors won't get far. Now!” he added viciously, a spell hurling them into the wall beside the door.
A little dazed, the two men scampered through the door without a backward glance.
Kyron turned back to Starla and Larkel and he continued as if there had been no interruption. “Despite your stupidity, Larkel, I don't want to waste your potential. Your great power would be valuable in my service.” Then his dark eyes moved down to Starla. “A Soreiaphin of the Royal blood. Once I turn your amulet to my service, you will pose no threat. You would make me a fine slave. No doubt, you'd last longer than the others.”
Starla's eyes narrowed as she chose a few of the Baron's favourite curses. Her insult was cut short as a black cord wrapped around her mouth. Her teeth sliced into her bottom lip and she tasted blood.
Kyron's whisper froze Starla's heart and stilled Larkel's protests, “But to use you both, I must first break you and then remake you. I'd prefer you to be willing slaves, you see, rather than drodemion.” He lowered Larkel to the ground and bound and gagged him in black cords too. “I have planned the first step on that path already. You see, when I leave my fortress, this cavern fills up, quite slowly at first, with an out-spill of lava from the pit. You two will be in there.” He pointed his staff at a small cage, high above the pit. “The lava won't reach you there but it'll give you a nice view.” His cruel gaze flashed briefly to the cages before settling back on Starla and Larkel's horrified expressions. “You both will watch as these Earth creatures burn to death.” His malicious smile was back, exposing his pointed teeth. Sensing the High Lord reaching for his powers again, he stepped forward and thrust the iron tip of his staff into Larkel's abdomen. “Before you get any more stupid ideas, Larkel,” he added. When he removed it, the point was missing.
Starla's muffled cry was the only sound as the High Lord's eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed at Kyron's feet.
He levitated them both up to the suspended cage as he spoke. “I am going to destroy what is left of this pathetic nation. But don't worry,” he added, releasing them of their bonds as the cage sealed shut. “I will bring back your loved ones. They will serve to break you, too.” He pointed his staff towards the cages and Starla watched in mute horror as their chains soldered themselves to the black, rocky ground. “We will see if you are ready to serve me when I return.”
His malicious grin haunted Starla long after he had left the cavern. She cradled Larkel's still body, putting pressure on his bleeding wound, no longer able to fight the sense of complete hopelessness that drowned her.
Chapter 23
Last Chance
“We have worked through the whole night, Majesty. The final batch of elixirs will be ready two hours before midday, my King,” Markis said, rubbing his eyes against the pink rays of the dawning sun.
The King was standing outside the Hall, nodding and smiling encouragement to the people who were being herded inside. Women with young babies, all children under the age of ten, the old and infirm. Anyone who was too weak, too young or too old to aid in Galatia's defence was entering the bunker beneath the Hall, where they would stay until the battle was over, won or lost.
“Thank you, friend,” the King said, just loud enough for Markis to hear as he continued to wave and smile at his people. “You and your family have done Galatia a great service. I am sorry that you may die so far from your home,” the King added, real regret in his voice.
Markis straightened. “Forgive me, King Eldos, but my wife and I have lived here far longer than we did on Earth. All of our children were born here. Of them, only three have chosen to return to Earth and live out a natural human existence,” Markis said, feeling more awake. “You have given us titles and a place to live. Here, we do not need to hide who we are. This is our home.”
The old King smiled at the alchemist's fierce sincerity, taking in the dark shadows beneath his blue eyes, proof of his tireless labours.
“I am glad you feel that way,” the King said, then took his leave, following the last of the citizens into the Hall.
Markis bowed, then headed back for his home. Makhi Jensula had arrived early the previous evening, apparently on a mental command from Naleiya, passing on a message from Shaneulia to their eldest daughter, Eltara. He thought of the Makhi standing over the still-sleeping drodemion and quickened his stride, anxious to see if any progress had been made.
Prince Niden turned to his grandmother as the last few people walked down the stairs to the bunker.
“How can we expect to even put up a fight, let alone go to war, when all our fighters are exhausted?” Niden whispered in frustration as the King joined them.
His point was emphasised by High Commander Medara entering the Hall and collapsing into her chair at the table, waiting for the meeting to begin. She had been helping to train all the new civilian recruits throughout the night.
Niden shook his head. “All our trained warriors will be too tired to fight and all our untrained warriors can do little more than defend themselves against a single attacker, even when fully awake.”
“Hush now,” the King murmured as a late-comer scurried into the Hall, bowing to the Royals, his little mouth agape. He couldn't be more than six. He was quickly followed by his mother.
The King smiled and motioned her to the door of the bunker, her sleeping newborn clutched protectively to her chest.
Astria placed a hand on her grandson's arm. “It will be all right, Niden. I will give them all the Spirits of Battle.”
Niden's blue eyes opened wide. “But grandmother, they are too many. You would be unable to do anything else.”
Astria smiled sadly. “I no longer have the great power I once did. Kyron's attack weakened me. But I can still do this. Our men and women will not tire or grow faint-hearted. It is the best way for me to spend my powers.”
Niden followed his grandparents and sat down, thoughtfully looking out of the tall side doors. Anxious groups of new soldiers were being given their armour. He stifled a yawn. He had had no sleep, either, insisting on helping with the training. Fear for those who had left for Abyss Valley had gnawed at him throughout the night. That was a secret only those in the Hall at the time knew of. He sighed. They would have to tell Commander Medara, now. Naleiya had kept up a good pretence, sending mental orders and accepting communications.
Niden's hand balled into a fist. She should be concentrating on the dangers around her. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew she would shut off her mental bond when she felt she had to.
He shut his eyes. Behind the fear that coursed through him was also the foolish, groundless hope that they would be successful and arrive back in time for it to make a difference. His greatest hope came from the fact that Valana travelled with them. She was a legendary warrior after all. The Silver Alliance wouldn't exist without her.
General Okano entered the Hall at that moment, his strides certain and lithe. No sign of the sleepless night was evident in his sure movements or his face as
he joined them at the table.
Niden gave a small chuckle. The Aurelian people were trained warriors from birth and were well-known for their incredible stamina. His chuckle grew a little worried at the thought of them with Astria's Spirits of Battle upon them.
“King Eldos,” Okano said, giving a small bow, “we have trained all the children sufficiently well but we will continue until midday. Then we should hide. Prepare for our ambush.”
The High Commander rubbed her eyes. “We should wait for Naleiya before discussing plans,” she said sleepily. “And Queen Zerina and Queen Valana.” Suddenly her voice changed, as if struck by a terrible thought. She turned to Niden, sitting up stiffly.
“They are gone, Medara,” Niden said, gently, not quite able to keep his own worry from his voice. “They have gone to give us the best chance we can hope for.”
Medara collapsed back in her chair, eyes shut. “I knew it. I could see it in her eyes.”
“We cannot worry about them,” Okano said, his voice hardening. His love story with Valana was legendary, too and Niden didn't miss the pain in his eyes. “You and I must ensure our hiding points and rally points are all secure and well-stocked.”
“It is only dawn,” the Commander said, forcing her eyes open. She longed for just an hour or two of sleep.
“The creature said our enemy knows we have emptied the outlying areas. I see no reason for him to wait for dusk.”
Defeated by Okano's sound logic, she gave a reluctant nod. She desperately wanted more time. Time to think, time to sleep, time for the men and women to train more. Time for Naleiya to make it home safely.
A captain of Galatia's Imperial Guard entered the Hall.
“All are assembled, my King,” he said, bowing. He waited for the King's acknowledgement, then left the Hall at a trot, back to his own unit.
King Eldos stood and nodded to one of his personal Makhi. She stood, too, moved behind him and placed her right hand gently against the side of his neck.
“People of Trianon,” the King began, his voice sounding odd as the spell she cast allowed all those within, beneath or outside the Hall to hear him as if he stood beside them, “today our enemy comes. Today we will fight not only for our own world, our own freedom and survival, but for all other worlds too. Kyron will not stop here. His lust for power and destruction will take him like a plague across the universe, until there is nothing left.” The old King closed his eyes, only his immediate counsel able to see his moment of weakness. He took a deep breath, determined to keep his voice level. “As many of you may have heard, our long-lost granddaughter has returned to us. Starla is not only a royal princess, but a Soreiaphin. Half of her amulet is here. She has bravely gone to retrieve the other half with the aid of some of our own volunteers and the help of the Guardians. We must believe that they will make it, that our High Lord shall soon be with us again. We must seize this, our last chance, and make our final stand! We must believe in our victory! We must fight!”
The Makhi dropped her hand and stepped aside.
He sat back down wearily as the battle cry was taken up outside the Hall. Cosmaltians cheering, unaware that their Queen was one of the volunteers he had spoken of. Galatians ready to believe and follow their King. Aurelians ready for battle, as always. He sighed, wishing he could believe in anything he had just said.
Astria stood as soon as he had resumed his seat. She closed her eyes and her wand traced complicated patterns in the air, her lips vibrating in a silent incantation. Soon, the ceiling of the Hall was all but invisible as thousands of shining birds wheeled and dove through the air above them. She nodded to the Makhi.
When she spoke, her voice, like the King's, was audible to all, wherever they were. “People of Trianon, by the consent of your leaders, Queen Zerina, King Eldos and Queen Valana, I shall now gift you all with the Spirits of Battle. They will not harm you. They will merely allow you to fight with no need for sleep or food. They will make your body tireless once battle is joined. They will keep your mind clear and focused. They will bring you courage.”
The Makhi let her hand fall again as the Queen finished and swept her wand out before her. “Go,” she said in her normal voice, “be with those who stand to fight our enemy.”
The glowing birds flew into those sitting at the table and out of the doors into every man, woman and child, imbuing their spirits, minds and bodies.
Completely refreshed, High Commander Medara stood. “With your permission?” She bowed to the King.
The King nodded, and both Medara and Okano strode from the Hall.
An hour before midday, all was in place. Markis and his many children had given each fighter two bottles of elixir against drodemions and three for healing minor wounds. All were hiding in manor houses, outbuildings or the palace, ready to spring their ambush at the King's command.
Each party had an equal number of Makhi and Inagium, in order to maintain mental contact with the main party. The Inagium, spurred on to fight by the return of their leader, were all stilling their minds in preparation to take the form of their Spirit-selves. These, they would have to try and maintain for as long as possible once Kyron's attack began.
In the Hall of Justice, stood the main party, small by comparison to the others. King Eldos and the High Commander stood by with ten Galatian soldiers and Markis, armed to the teeth. Prince Niden stood for Queen Zerina. Her Commander still looked shocked at the news about his queen but he had made his ten captains sure of their positions. They were ready. General Okano and ten Aurelian warriors stood looking eager, his daughter, Thira, among them. They were positioned right in the middle of the ambush zone.
They were waiting for Makhi Jensula, who had been asked to come here, where he was to be informed of the High Lady's absence and her mission. He would then be commanded to take her place. Prince Niden looked over at Markis again. The alchemist had said that Jensula was busy with something very important. What it could be at a time like this, Prince Niden could not guess. Still, he welcomed the pause. Now, as they waited for the Makhi to arrive, they also waited for all those in Abyss Valley.
Queen Astria was in the bunker below, needing to be out of the way to maintain her concentration and fuel her Spirits of Battle. Still, she had managed to form a Vision Mirror in the Hall. Through it, those in the Hall could see the Royal City and a few kilometres of surrounding wood or sea.
Together they stood, awaiting the inevitable arrival of the Destroyer.
***
“I am so sorry,” Starla whispered, the acoustics of the cavern carrying her voice to those in the cages.
“Don't beat yourself up,” Lua said, trying to sound cheerful. She didn't really manage it.
“It isn't your fault,” Raoul added, his tone clearly implying that he was still blaming Larkel for everything he didn't like here.
Starla bit her tongue to stop an angry comment. Raoul was hurting.
“It is no one's fault but Kyron's,” Gaby seethed. She was a little more like her old self now that Beky's corrupted form was no longer in sight. Though her eyes were harder, and her voice more bitter, Starla was glad that she was still fighting, however futile it might be.
“But I brought the amulet here. I risked everything. I was supposed to save Galatia. Now Kyron has one half and he's—” Starla trailed off, new tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Your plan could've worked if Ezira hadn't swapped your amulet for a fake,” Fey fumed, the Demilain Creator's actions a personal insult.
“You did all you could,” Father Joe soothed. He wasn't entirely sure he understood everything that was going on here, but he owed it to her to be strong, to give her hope. She was like a daughter to him and it pained him to see her so broken.
“Don't cry, my love.” Larkel's voice was barely more than a breath.
“Larkel!” She couldn't believe he was awake. His wound was still bleeding, slowly. “I thought you were going to—” She bit her lip. “You didn't move at all. You were barely breathin
g. And the wound, it won't stop bleeding.” Her tortured emerald eyes filled with tears.
Larkel lifted himself painfully so that he could face her. She refused to stop putting pressure on his abdomen.
Without warning, he pulled her to him, kissing her deeply. He had had no idea that such a strong bond would be formed when he first met this woman, but he knew now that he needed her more than anything. And that need may have been doomed from the start.
When his lips finally released hers, his arms constricted her against him before she could read the fear in his eyes.
“Kyron has trapped my powers within me.” He drew a breath in through his teeth. “I cannot free them without my staff.”
“You can't heal yourself?” Starla looked horrified, pulling away a little. She had thought he was simply drained but would be able to regenerate enough power to seal his wound before he bled out.
“I … I am not sure that Kyron intended that.” He gave her a lopsided smile. “I think a piece of his staff broke off in the wound because I tried to shield after he struck me.” He looked at her squarely, now. “I need your help.”
“My help? I don't know how to heal, or do anything,” Starla stammered, then she looked down at the blood, slowly seeping through her fingers and inhaled deeply. “What must I do?”
“Open your connection to me,” Larkel instructed. “Good. Now, search my memories. Yes. There! That one.”
Starla watched Larkel's memory. In it, he was just a boy of ten. His father, dressed in the High Lord's robes, silver circlet of office on his head, was standing in front of him. Between them lay Naleiya. She was cradling her left arm.
Starla nearly lost hold of the memory as she noted that Naleiya looked no different than she did now. Nearly a thousand years older than Larkel, she was fully grown here. Larkel chuckled and then winced. Starla focused on the memory.
Starla could make out some glass splinters in the bleeding gashes there.
