Mythborn: Rise of the Adepts

by Lakshman, V.

  Tej cocked her head to the side and looked at the songbirds, not seeing the effect it had on Arek. "I feel like one of those birds."

  Arek looked up and knew what she meant. "So do I, but in my cage, there always seem to be cats." He smiled and when he looked back at her, he was surprised to see she was smiling too.

  Then her gaze grew serious and she said, "The nomad chieftain killed my father, he impaled him in front of me. I want to end his life."

  Arek sat back, shocked by her revelation, then he said, "I am sorry." His mind raced and he added, "But how can I help?"

  Tej gestured with her chin to the blank spot on his chest where his Finder had been. "Your charm. Take me with you. I’ll be ready."

  "First, I’m not going with them, and even if I was... be accused of kidnapping you? Not likely," he retorted, then let out a small laugh at the absurdity of her request.

  Tej pushed past the boy and plopped herself onto the bed next to him, sullen on the edge of angry. "So you’re scared?"

  "Yes, very," Arek said, nodding vigorously, not caring what she thought of that.

  "The king won’t do anything. I’ll already be on the other side and Ash will still parley with your master for your release."

  Arek stared at her, startled at how close she was and that she seemed wholly unaware of her own beauty. As to her question, he also began to think she was slightly crazy. "I don’t even have the charm."

  Tej looked up, her amber eyes glinting. "What if I stole it for you?"

  Arek laughed. "Use the charm and ruin your king’s one chance at breaking the siege? What part of my body do you think he’ll cut off for that?"

  "Cowards always find reasons why something is too difficult. Heroes don’t." Her quirked lips and crossed arms made it clear which part she thought he was acting now. The accusation was plain on her face and stance.

  Arek leaned back into the soft pillows, thinking. This was not at all what he had expected and in front of her, his ability to reason fled. He closed his eyes and took a deep, steadying breath, focusing. As he did so, his thoughts cleared and he said, "Going into the nomad camp is the job of trained warriors. No offense, but from what I saw, your skills aren’t good enough. At best, you’ll hinder any attempt to achieve your own goal."

  He hated being so direct and worried she would leave right then and there. Instead, her face took on a thoughtful look.

  "What do you think I should do?" she asked in a small voice.

  Arek shook his head, not wanting to mention that anyone could open the portal by breaking the Finder. That fact would likely send the girl on a fool’s mission. "I don’t know. I can create the portal. Assuming you could sneak past the guards, you could go in after the king’s men, but for what? It won’t be easy to find who you want. There are thousands of nomads in that camp. Furthermore, the team won’t stick around once they’re done, and there’s almost no way you can be there right when it happens."

  "That’s easy," replied Tej, "we go where all the yelling is."

  Arek looked at her incredulously. "You’re assuming the king’s men can do the job. What if this nomad chieftain is tougher than they think?" He looked directly at the girl and met her amber gaze, adding softly, "I’m sorry, but if your training is an example of the skill of Bara’cor, they are all going to get killed."

  He looked down, not wanting to disappoint this girl. No, this lady, he corrected. Then his mind latched onto what the shade said just before leaving and he decided to redirect her and get some of his own questions answered. "Tej, what’s below Bara’cor?"

  Tej stared back at him, a strange look on her face. It was as if he had somehow acquitted himself well in her eyes, or at least he imagined that’s what she was thinking. Then she shrugged, "Lots of things. The fortress is pretty extensive."

  "But do you know your way around down there?" What Piter had said planted the seed of a plan, but it required someone who knew the fortress intimately.

  "I guess so. Why?" She plopped back down, rolling onto her back to stare again at the canopy and the songbirds.

  "I think there’s something down there, something that might help us defeat the nomads. If we could find it, you may get what you want," he said. It was mostly true, but he had tweaked it a bit to appeal more to her need for revenge.

  Tej sat up and her eyes filled with hope. "A weapon?"

  Arek shrugged, "I’m not sure."

  Tej nodded, then tilted her head to one side with that strange look she had earlier. "You don’t care what I think, do you?"

  "No. . ." Arek stated truthfully. He found her alluring, and outright lying to her seemed somehow wrong.

  The princess continued to stare a bit longer, then smiled and stood up. "Refreshing." She stooped to grab a pair of boots sitting unnoticed at the foot of his bed. "Put these on. They look like something from the medics, probably soft."

  Arek caught one, the other smacking him in the face. He almost yelled, but her laughter gave him pause. Plus, the boots were soft and filled with a cotton fluff that when laced tight would serve as a nice bandage.

  "What happens when I have to change these?"

  "Like I’m going to know you that long," she replied. "All right. I don’t know the fortress that well, but I know someone who might."

  "Who would that be?" asked Arek.

  A voice from a shadow near the door spoke then, startling them both.

  "Me," said Niall as he stepped into view.

  REBORN

  You must give away any thought of surviving.

  Enter each battle as if you have already died,

  And your time here is merely borrowed.

  Embrace this, and you will act without fear.

  —Kensei Shun, The Lens of Shields

  Scythe watched the image of Silbane in a small water bowl. Beside him stood Hemendra, not at all happy to be in the Redrobe’s tent. The watery image showed their captive, still secured to the pole in the tent where they had left him.

  "You take a great chance leaving him alive," stated Hemendra.

  "I would hazard the world, this army, your life, even the pathetic lice on your skin, to ensure my plan’s success. I leave nothing to chance."

  The words came out almost normal, betrayed only by a slight tremble at the end. The nomad chieftain had spent enough time with Scythe to tell when he was teetering on the edge of a violent outburst. Usually these ended in the death of a nomad or two, like the skinning of the two scouts.

  Hemendra didn’t think too deeply over this. The mage instilled fear, and Hemendra gained respect as a result. Still, the man was dangerous and in Hemendra’s opinion, only the Redrobe’s power and promise to help breach Bara’cor’s walls had kept him alive this long. He scowled, but said nothing. Gutting him would be simple, when the time came.

  "Patience, Mighty U’Zar," said Scythe, smiling.

  The chieftain gave a mental start, knowing this man could read thoughts. He cursed his lapse. Scythe’s voice reverberated in his head, echoing, this man is dangerous.

  He let out a forceful sigh, then said the only thing he could, "We both still have our uses."

  Scythe locked eyes with the nomad chieftain and a small twitter escaped his lips. "Indeed." Then he looked away and back at the watery image of Silbane.

  The voice that came next out of Scythe’s mouth had a different tone, one now filled with tactical confidence and military demeanor. "Only two things can happen at this point. Either Silbane uses his Finder, or his apprentice does. I have set the portal web in place."

  "And you think this unseen web will work?"

  Scythe flicked the water’s surface and the image collapsed in a dozen ripples. They quickly died, as if the water were made out of something thicker, and the image returned. Now Hemendra could see purple lines crisscrossing the tent, filling the air around Silbane like a strange spider’s web. "If the portal opens, it touches one of these lines. That will not only summon me, but lock the portal open until I can decide what to do
."

  Hemendra smiled and said, "Giving us a way into Bara’cor." The massive warrior looked at the Redrobe with a grudging respect. "A good plan."

  Scythe ignored the chieftain’s compliment and said, "I attend to the great dragon. See that I am not disturbed."

  Hemendra nodded, backing out of the tent along with a small contingent of guards. He went to choose a small group of elite warriors for the difficult task of entering Bara’cor. In case the Redrobe’s plan worked, he intended to have a team ready to enter the great fortress and take her from the inside.

  * * * * *

  Scythe went outside and then to a tent near his own, moving with purpose. He had had the warriors transfer the body of the dragon to this place. It afforded more privacy for what was to come next. He entered the tent, his eyes quickly adjusting to the gloom, and made his way over to the iron circle upon which the great dragon-knight’s body lay.

  He walked close, inspecting it with a clinical eye. The warriors had left the circle resting upon a table at waist height, making his inspection easy. Satisfied there was no other injury, the mage straightened the dragon-knight’s head and neck, then reached behind and in one fluid motion, ripped the arrow from the base of the skull.

  It released itself with a wet pop, the arrowhead covered in a black, oily liquid that stank of sulfur. The mage dropped the arrow and waited, but not long.

  A sudden gasp tore through the dragon-knight and his eyes opened wide, glowing with yellow light like two miniature suns. Scythe could hear bones snapping back into place, muscle and sinew repairing itself. Dragons, he knew, were notoriously difficult to kill.

  Smiling, he motioned and the great iron circle lifted into the air, suspended by his power alone. He turned it so the dragon-knight faced him and said, "I welcome you, Lord Rai’stahn."

  Rai’stahn looked at the mage, golden eyes calculating. Scythe knew the strength was returning to his limbs, but Silbane’s prana locks were still in place, limiting his power.

  "Mortal, thou are not my equal. Release me, or suffer."

  Scythe held up a forestalling hand. "All in good time, my lord. First, I would know the purpose of your visit."

  The dragon-knight strained against his bonds, but was held tight, his armor and scales fused to the metal circle behind him. With his prana locks in place, breaking free would be impossible. He turned his full attention to the mage and recognition dawned on him.

  "It has been some time, my lord," Scythe said, "but my quest remains the same."

  Scythe felt understanding flood Rai’stahn’s mind. "Bara’cor, then, is still thine objective."

  "Yes, though your presence and, Silbane’s, bodes ill. The timing is not ideal." A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "And as you know, timing is everything, is it not?"

  The dragon-knight ignored the bait and simply replied, "We do what we must."

  "We do indeed, my lord. We act when our actions will have the most effect." He paused at that, then added delicately, "The Isle came under attack."

  * * * * *

  At the utterance of those words, Rai’stahn felt a sudden panic for his hatchling and closed his eyes, searching. He easily located the Isle and the multitudes of bright sparks that existed in and around there, the brightest being his child. The Isle seemed untouched, but the great dragon knew his demesne as only a lord of his people would. While many lived, many had passed on, their sparks extinguished. With shock, he realized the mortal spoke truly. "More than just Themun."

  "Why did you hazard their safety?" asked Scythe.

  The dragon ignored him, still searching the vast world. He then saw the spark he was looking for and sent out a silent call.

  "You left them undefended, to escort a mage and his apprentice here. None would have dared move against you, but you left an opening. Why?"

  He felt Scythe trying to reach into his mind, and slammed down a wall of psychic energy, shutting him out. Frustration washed across Scythe’s features and he said, "Must you insist on plain speech? Can we not parley directly?"

  "Sharing thoughts with thee hath not been earned, mortal." He put emphasis on the last word, the entire situation serving to frustrate him to greater degrees. First Silbane, now this. He also cursed Sovereign, who was clearly responsible for this attack. The great dragon knew Sovereign would not yet move against the dragons, but against others… harm had come to his people through his slight lapse.

  Scythe looked away, then pulled up a stool and sat down. Perhaps a wisp of the dragon’s anger leaked out, for he said, " Silbane lives."

  "Until I am released."

  "Why?" Scythe asked. "Why did you attack Arek? Can he truly disrupt the Gate? Is my quest in danger?" As he spoke, a kind of hunger seemed to take over, his questions spilling into one another as if they fought to get out and be heard.

  Rai’stahn said simply, "Release me and thou wilt see."

  Scythe shook his head. "Not until I know exactly what is going on." He pulled out a short knife, wickedly sharp and curved, designed to butcher an animal. "I cannot compel you, my lord. We both know this." He looked down and another voice from him hissed, "Nothing really dies."

  He stood stock still, as if reliving a memory. Then with a start he looked up, his pale eyes going from a distant stare to the here and now with an almost audible snap. "It took you only a few moments to heal from the arrow wound."

  Rai’stahn did not answer, merely looking at the man with his golden gaze. Mayhap achieving his quest would be best for all the worlds, he mused.

  "How long would it take if I cut you apart, burned you to ashes, and spread those to the four corners of Edyn?"

  When the dragon-knight didn’t respond, Scythe smiled and said, "It could be hundreds of years before you revived. What will happen to your daughter who nests on the Isle? Perhaps, someone will pay her a visit, too?"

  At the threat to his hatchling, Rai’stahn surged forward and an animal roar tore from his throat, "Thou dares!"

  * * * * *

  For his part, Scythe did not move, his face inches from Rai’stahn’s fanged teeth. The events over the many years of his long life had slowly deadened him to most things. He saw the dragon’s outburst in a detached way, as if someone else watched through his own eyes.

  No, not deadened, a voice gently reminded. Your suffering has shielded you, and brings you ever closer to your beloved. With that, even the dragonfear washed over him like a cool breeze.

  He exhaled once through his nose, then said, "Tell me what I wish to know or I will do as I say and see if your hatchling can be forced to mate with dogs. She will suffer every single day, for years, just as I have. I promise you." He kept his gaze locked on the golden eyes of Rai’stahn. "Test my word."

  In a contest of wills, one did not attempt a dragon. They were implacable creatures suffused with power, their very essence made from the Way. They were power incarnate, living gods who still walked this world. Normally, a single man would be devoured both mentally and physically for daring such an affront.

  However, there was nothing normal about Scythe. He had suffered, lost, and fallen far from a place where any semblance of normalcy still reigned. Fear required one to have something to lose, and Scythe had nothing. He would make good on his threat and the great dragon was too weakened to stop him.

  Scythe did not say anything more, holding the dragon’s molten gaze in his own pale one, his eyes never wavering. In the end, the conclusion was inevitable. He would win and they both knew it.

  The dragon-knight stared, but a sulfurous sigh escaped from his lips. A moment later, Rai’stahn was the first to look away. "Do not believe thy threat will go unanswered."

  Scythe could almost feel the dragon’s will collapse. "To do so would be foolish." He stood, waiting, the dagger slowly tapping on his thigh.

  Rai’stahn’s lip curled, revealing his fanged teeth. His golden eyes narrowed. "Very well. The boy is more than he seems."

  "Obviously," Scythe said curtly, then asked, "bu
t can he truly disrupt the Way?"

  The dragon-knight shook his head. "He doth not disrupt it. He consumes it. He draws the Way unto himself, depleting all around him. I felt mine own strength ebb as we flew here."

  "The Gate cannot be threatened!" Scythe’s jaw worked, his teeth grinding as he felt the panic begin to build again at the idea of his life’s work at harm. It was his only chance. He could feel his emotions well up, threatening to spill over again into that place where he could do nothing but watch. He did not like that person, it was not who he really was.

  Just when the force of memory became almost too much to bear, he heard the dragon say, "Release me and thy Gate will be safe. I will kill the boy."

  Scythe spun and faced Rai’stahn, a blanket of calm serenity stretched tightly over his mental conflagration. He took a careful step forward, as if treading lightly to avoid breaking his precarious hold, "Why?"

  "The boy cannot be suffered to live. He continues to absorb power from the very air that surrounds him and will eventually destroy any who harness the Way. He must be eradicated, or he will be the death of us all."

  The simple statement hit Scythe with an almost physical force. His mind whirled through the logic, like planks, toppling each fact in a quick line. That would include all the Elder Races: dragons, dwarves, even those who were born with Talent. It would make everything, Scythe involuntarily gasped, mundane.

  "Thou sees the danger."

  The calmness continued its hold, as the analytical part of Scythe’s fractured mind now turned its attention to the problem of the great dragon. "If I release you, you will kill me." He said this with no emotion, a simple statement of fact.

  "Will that not help your life’s work?" asked the dragon, seemingly mocking the mage.

  "If I am to recover them, I must pass through alive, else I would have ended this accursed existence long ago."

  The dragon-knight shifted, then said, "My hatchling cannot live in a world where this boy lives. Our interests are aligned. I can put aside thy words."