Light of the Radiant (The Reckoning Book 2)

by Matthew Ward

  Calm swept over me. If this was the end, then so be it. Azyra had already killed me once. There was no fear in dying a second time.

  "Someone will stop you," I said. "They'll avenge me, and Elspeth, and those you have slain today. Think on that while you build paradise. And when you die, I'll be waiting in Otherworld – we'll all be waiting. You'll suffer a thousand times over for what you've done."

  Azyra traced the point of the blade across my chest. "A lingering death, I think." Resting the tip against my lower ribs, she lunged.

  I cried out as the sword lanced into my flesh, and again as she twisted the blade free. Black blood pulsed from the wound. Agony burned through me. Dark spots floated across my eyes. Had the drudge's arms not been so tightly locked around me, I'd have collapsed.

  Azyra regarded me with amusement, and levelled the sword again. "Once more. Just to be certain."

  The serathi drew back her arm. Behind her, Elspeth urged her crippled body to one last effort. Powerless though she was, the Daughter of the Moon was still a goddess, and she clung to life with the tenacity of the divine. She lurched forward, her fingers closing around the hilt of my sword, a savage smile on her lips.

  A shadow passed over the sun, though the clouds were far below us. There was a shift in the air, like the sudden tension before a storm.

  "GET AWAY FROM MY SON!"

  Suddenly, my father's ghost was there, his spirit brought forth at Elspeth's touch, his face taut with a fury I'd never seen it wear in life.

  When I'd spoken to my father's shade on the Tressian moors, I'd thought him as insubstantial as morning mist. I'd been wrong. Weaponless, he charged straight at the serathi. His shoulder struck Azyra with the force of a stampeding ox, and she went sprawling.

  But though startled, Azyra was far from beaten. Righting herself, she lashed out. Where her blade struck my father's body, it ripped wispy trails through his ghostly flesh. The wounds staggered him as though he were flesh and blood. My father could not hold Azyra at bay alone, far less defeat her.

  But he did not fight alone.

  At Elspeth's call the spirits of my forebears came once more, bearing down on Azyra without hesitation. There were dozens, scores, and they pummelled at the serathi with fists and feet, giving no thought to the wounds she inflicted in return. Pace by pace, the ghosts drove her back across the flagstones to the quietly-lapping waters of the Farsight.

  Here and there Azyra's sword struck so harsh a blow that a ghost dispersed entirely – banished, and perhaps destroyed forever. I felt no sadness as each ghost passed thus – that would come later – only a renewed hope that they might yet end Azyra's madness. I saw Kai Saran to my father's right. But his was not the ghost that most captured my attention. To my father's left, clawing and hammering Azyra with a wildness he'd never possessed, was my uncle Eirac – until moments before, the Hadari Emperor. I'd not known he'd wielded the sword, but then I'd never had reason to ask.

  In life my uncle had been many things, but he had not been fighter. He'd been a temperate man, given to negotiation and discourse, of settling with words that which others would resolve through blood and steel. I'd have never known that to see him then, so furiously did his ghost throw himself into the fray, but perhaps he'd never before been given sufficient cause. He had reason aplenty now. Azyra had murdered Eirac, and thousands of his subjects alongside, and now she sought to kill his nephew. Of course he fought.

  Arianwyn ran to my side, freed from Azyra's magic by my father's intervention. "What just happened?"

  I'd no breath to answer her. The pain from my wounds was overwhelming, and knowing Eirac was amongst the dead had brought me fresh sorrow.

  "It doesn't matter." Elspeth hauled her bloodied body partway upright so that she could meet Arianwyn's questioning gaze. "When I'm gone, their anchor to this world will be lost. It is up to you now, child."

  "I don't understand," Arianwyn said.

  "Only the Radiant can stop her."

  "But I'm not the Radiant."

  "No," Elspeth breathed, "you are not."

  With those words, the Daughter of Moon fell forward, sword falling from lifeless fingers.

  As her body struck the flagstones, it burst into a cloud of silver dust. For a moment, the dust lingered, shimmering in the sunlight. Then the wind caught it, and all that remained of Elspeth were a bloodstain and my memories.

  With her death, the ghosts vanished. Some remained longer than others – my father's longest of all – but, within moments, they were all gone, and Azyra advanced on me to finish what she'd started.

  "What did Elspeth mean?" I gasped. "It makes no sense."

  "Yes it does." Rising, Arianwyn kissed me. "Forgive me, my love. Our time was too short."

  The ghosts had hurt Azyra. The wounds she'd suffered fighting Adanika had reopened, and she was limping badly. None of it quelled the madness in her eyes, which burned every bit as brightly as before.

  "Get out of my way!"

  Arianwyn stood her ground. More than that, she was calm. "No. You've killed too many today, you shan't claim another."

  "And you're going to stop me?" Azyra halted, her lips twisting into a mocking smile. "Did you really think I'd help you hone skills to the point that you were a threat?"

  "That doesn't matter. I promised I'd see you dead for the evils you've wrought. I'm a daughter of the line of Trelan. I keep my promises."

  Arianwyn's head fell forward. Golden light blazed across the Farsight. She threw her head back once again and swept her arms outward. Her eyes glowed with light, and she rose aloft on a great pair of golden wings. It was a scene straight out of legend, fit to cow the bravest man with its terrible majesty.

  She was Arianwyn no longer, but the Radiant.

  "The mortal surrendered to me, Azyra." No longer was the voice Arianwyn's. It possessed power it had lacked before, an edge of the divine. "She begged me to take total control, and made only one demand in exchange. That I destroy you." The Radiant paused. "I agreed."

  "No, please!" shouted Azyra. "It was for you! It was all for you!

  "It was for yourself." The Radiant's voice grew angry. "You did it out of your own petty dreams. Look around you! Look at what has become of Skyhaven, of the serathi! My murder, I could have forgiven, but it is long past time that you were punished for the rest."

  "You are not my mother," Azyra screamed, picking up my sword and brandishing it at the Radiant. "You are the girl, playing a role. My mother would never speak to me thus."

  "I am sorry, Azyra." Radiant's voice cracked, torn between anger and disappointment. "Goodbye, my daughter."

  Azyra let loose a great shriek of rage, as what little sanity was left to her shattered like a pane of glass. She leapt at the Radiant, my sword already hacking down to strike her tormentor.

  The blow never landed.

  When Azyra was yet a pace away, the Radiant brought her hands together. A beam of golden light struck the serathi head-on. Azyra shrieked in agony. For a moment, she seemed to hang in midair. Her skin blackened, charred, and boiled away into ash. Her feathers crackled as the fire consumed them. The light from the Radiant's hands pulsed once, and blasted Azyra's body into dust. Only my sword remained. It splashed into the Farsight, the waters hissing and bubbling.

  The Radiant landed heavily a few paces ahead of me. "Release him."

  The drudge complied. I wished he hadn't, for I found I could no longer support my own weight. I collapsed with a grunt of pain.

  "It is over, Edric Saran," said the Radiant. "I promise you, I will honour Arianwyn's sacrifice. I will make whatever amends I can for what my children have done."

  I didn't care. The Radiant's words, though spoken kindly, opened a floodgate of bitterness. Arianwyn was gone. Nothing else mattered. She'd gone, and that her body still walked and talked before me only made the loss harder to bear. I wouldn't be long for the world myself, unless my wounds were seen to, but I couldn't bring myself to care. Arianwyn was gone.

  The g
round beneath me trembled. For a moment, I thought the Light of the Radiant had been unleashed again, but this was something else.

  "The Heart of Light has been destroyed," the Radiant announced.

  Jamar and Koschai had completed their mission then, if too late. They must have felt even worse than I.

  Without warning, the stone beneath the Radiant's feet cracked and shifted. With a shriek, she clasped her hands to her temples.

  "No!" she moaned. "This cannot be! It's not fair!"

  The Radiant's wings beat in an attempt to bear her aloft, but they faded and she fell to the ground. A golden halo flickered and sparked about her like an angry flame. "This body is too weak," she moaned.

  She staggered drunkenly, and the tremors increased. The golden aura burned brighter and brighter. I watched with alarm as the skin of the nearest dead serathi started to burn.

  The basin of the Farsight pool cracked and splintered, its waters boiling away. To my left, a huge section of the platform sheared off and felt away into the clouds, taking with it the dreaming drudge who still stood upon it. A chasm opened up and spread towards me. I tried to kick myself away from it, but my legs wouldn't respond.

  The ground split away beneath me. Strong fingers locked around my wrist. I looked up with surprise to see that my saviour was the very drudge who'd held me captive only minutes before. Without a word, he shifted his grip, hauled me higher and carried me to the edge of the Farsight. Or, more accurately, what was left of it.

  Perhaps half of the platform had tumbled away, leaving only jagged causeways of shattered stone. At the centre of the largest, the Radiant keened mournfully, her arms thrashing in pain. I could barely make out her features, so bright was the light around her. She shrieked again, and Skyhaven shifted beneath me. In the distance, buildings toppled and fell. Whatever was happening, wasn't just happening here.

  There was a beating of wings behind me, and Adanika at last arrived. She did not come alone. Zorya's hands were locked around her wrists. The serathi lowered her to my side before diving forward again towards the Radiant.

  "What's happening?" My emotions felt muted again, and I knew that couldn't be a good sign.

  [[The Radiant has been dead for millennia, and was reborn with insufficient preparation,]] said Zorya. [[She has forgotten how to control her power. She is panicking, and it is making things worse.]]

  "What about Arianwyn?"

  Zorya offered no response.

  Adanika knelt before the Radiant. "Mother, calm yourself. You are destroying Skyhaven. You have to release the power."

  The Radiant burned brighter. "No! You seek to destroy me as you did once before."

  Adanika extended a hand. "I am not the same as I was. Trust me. Let me help you."

  "Away with you, traitor!" A bolt of golden light shot from the Radiant's fingers, blasting Adanika from her feet. She'd have flown clear of the railing and into the skies beyond had Zorya not grabbed her.

  Adanika was a horrific sight. Her left arm and one side of her face were burned and blistered. She winced in pain as Zorya steadied her. Deeper in the remains of the Farsight, the Radiant screamed and fell to her knees. Skyhaven shuddered in sympathy.

  "She will not listen to me," Adanika sighed. "And I cannot find it in my heart to blame her."

  "She has to be stopped," I said. "She'll bring Skyhaven down on what's left of Tregard."

  "I will not destroy her. Not again." There was an apology in Adanika's voice, but also a resolution that would not be questioned.

  "She has to be stopped!" I cursed the injuries that stopped me acting directly, though I'd no idea what I could have done.

  [[She will be stopped,]] Zorya announced. [[I will speak with her.]]

  "And what if she won't listen?" Adanika demanded.

  [[She will be stopped.]] Zorya strode across the trembling causeway.

  The Radiant turned as the sentinel approached. Her fingers kneaded at her temples, and her body shook with effort.

  "Zorya, is that you?"

  [[It is, goddess. I am here.]] Wisps of smoke rose from Zorya's shoulders as her clothes began to burn.

  "What is wrong with me, Zorya? Why does it hurt so?"

  [[You have lost control. You must yield, or you will destroy us all.]]

  "I cannot go back into darkness again. I cannot! I refuse to be a whisper in another's mind any longer!"

  [[It is necessary.]] Zorya crouched, taking the Radiant's hands in her own. [[You must believe me.]]

  "You have always stood by me, Zorya," the Radiant pleaded. "Help me now."

  [[I can do nothing. You must surrender the power, otherwise you will destroy everything you touch, including the body you now control. Relinquish the power, and there is hope that you will rise again. Cling to it, and there is only death for us all.]]

  The Radiant stared at Zorya.

  Beneath us, Skyhaven shuddered and heaved.

  "Very well," she said at last. "I will do as you ask."

  All at once, the tremors stopped. The brilliant halo and the golden wings faded away. The Radiant collapsed forward, and Zorya gathered her up into. Turning, she reverently made her way back across the causeway, and laid the body at my side.

  [[The Radiant has retreated. Arianwyn's mind and body are hers.]]

  Tired elation swept through me. "You mean Arianwyn's not gone? She's not dead?"

  [[She is not. If the Radiant had remained in control longer, perhaps, but no. Souls rarely pass all at once, and Arianwyn's is stronger than most.]] The pitch of the sentinel's sing-song voice did not change, but I nevertheless sensed she was proud of her adopted daughter. [[The Radiant is still within Arianwyn, but she no longer controls her.]]

  "Then it's truly over."

  Despite everything, I felt curiously peaceful. The pain of my wounds had all but faded, and I was so desperately tired. I was dying, but Arianwyn would live. That would have to be enough.

  "Not quite," Adanika warned. "Arianwyn needs you, and your people will need a leader if they are to survive."

  I grimaced. Didn't the serathi realise how close I was to death?

  Zorya looked sharply at Adanika. [[You are resolved to this?]]

  "I am. I do not have the right to lead our sisters. Ysella was correct. I have fallen from grace. My recent actions do not wipe away past betrayals. I am tired. This will be my penance. It will give my death meaning, and the serathiel's mantle can pass to one more worthy."

  [[Not all mortals bear this gift well.]]

  "I know, I have seen it for myself," Adanika allowed.

  Calda. She was talking about Calda. "Death is better than madness," I objected.

  Adanika shook her head. "There was always darkness in Calda's heart. Irina did not create it. You have a proud heritage, Edric Saran. That legacy will protect you."

  I tried to speak, to ask her what she meant, but darkness crowded in, and I could form no words.

  Adanika pressed a single perfect finger to my lips. "Goodbye, Edric Saran," she said quietly. "We shall not meet again."

  My eyes fell closed, and did not open for a long time.

  Fifteen

  Even in the wake of disaster, my people were determined to celebrate the rise of a new ruler. So it was that less than a month after the death of Eirac Saran, a vast crowd gathered in the moon-cast shadow of the Sanctuary of Silence.

  Despite the midnight hour, it was almost as bright as day. Hundreds of bonfires and thousands of torches blazed in the darkness. The Empire's surviving warchiefs were present, their household guards arrayed in polished armour beneath banners of every colour and hue. There were also soldiers, farmers, merchants, blacksmiths, physicians, priests, stonewrights, carpenters, artists, engineers, scholars; the rich and the penniless alike. None were forbidden on this night of nights, and many had travelled from the outer kingdoms of the Empire to bear witness.

  I daresay the usual pickpockets, hawkers and tricksters were at work amidst the throng, but they weren't my concern. Indeed,
the royal guardsmen scattered throughout the crowd would have taken a dim view of me taking any action.

  Since the time of my great-grandfather, new Emperors had been acclaimed at the Temple of Ashana in the heart of Tregard. That building, like so many others, had been destroyed by the Light of the Radiant, and the counsellors of the Golden Court had decided this older site of worship would serve in its stead. The centre of Tregard was still a blackened ruin and would take years to rebuild, if indeed any could bear to make the attempt. It was a rare family that had not lost kith or kin during Azyra's attack, and it was of no consolation that the Light of the Radiant had left little in the way of bodies to be buried.

  The Sanctuary of Silence wasn't a true temple, not to my mind. It wasn't even a building, but rather a circle of alabaster monoliths, set about a long, straight stair terminating in a broad stone dais. The monoliths glowed brilliantly in the starlight. And when the moon was full, as it was now, the spectacle was little short of otherworldly.

  I confess, there was something reassuring about the place. I didn't know how long it had stood, or who had built it, but it was old. Legend told it had been fashioned from a meteor of moon rock, cast across the heavens by Ashana herself. I'd scoffed at that tale when younger, before Great Powers had crossed my path. Now, I wasn't so ready to disbelieve. Indeed, I could well imagine that the delicately carved stones hadn't been fashioned by mortal hands at all, but by Ashana – or by her daughters.

  A burgeoning moon stared down from the midnight sky. Ashana watched over this coronation as she had done all others for generations beyond counting. I spared a glance away from the cheering crowds, and gazed upwards. What would Elspeth say now, if she saw me? She'd probably have called me a fool, but I found that I missed her anyway. I hoped Ashana had permitted her wayward daughter to return home at last, that she hadn't truly died at Azyra's hands, but I didn't know the truth of the matter. Perhaps I never would.

  I, at least, was alive – truly alive, no longer eking out the damned half-existence of a fallen. Adanika's final gift had bound my body and soul as one. She'd given me a second chance at life in place of her own, and I still didn't know how I felt about that. I was glad to be alive, but the cost of it sat ill with me. There was also the fact that I felt perhaps a little too alive, but I tried to put that down to the contrast between the undead thing that I'd been, and the living man I was now.