There.
Kole turned again, catching a reflection in one of the slabs of blue ice farther along that he did not think belonged to Jenk. He crept toward it, his eyes locked on it, but his attention focused on the one beside it.
He flared one blade to life and launched it before his head swiveled toward the mark. The blade struck and shattered the wall, and as it fell, the image he had only thought he had seen was rendered in all its grotesque detail.
Jenk stepped up next to him, his voice lost as they faced down the great beast. He was red from crown to toe, and his white eyes matched the razor teeth that broke into a wide grin as he took the Embers in. In the place of armor, his chest, forearms and insteps were replete with boney shields, pitted and porous, and his great hands ended in blood-red hooks for fingers.
He laughed, the sound deep and rumbling, though his mouth did not move and his throat did not quiver. Kole’s thrown blade burned at his feet, but something about the image was off. Shifa growled, but not at him, and Kole kept his ears focused on all the sounds around him, listening for the pop and sizzle that would announce the Shadow’s arrival.
Jenk ignited his own sword, the yellow flames dancing in the hall of slabs and mirrors. He edged forward, but Kole switched his remaining blade to his right hand and laid the left on Jenk’s arm.
“Hold.”
Jenk gritted his teeth, but did as Kole asked. “What is—”
The other Ember banged into Kole’s shoulder hard and sent him spinning away. Kole turned to see Jenk ram his burning blade through the sheet of ice beside him, shattering it. It had held an identical image of the laughing red beast who still stood over Kole’s guttering blade. The sheet broke apart and collapsed, but the laughter only redoubled.
As the shards fell, Pirrahn was revealed. Her eyes widened in shock as she gazed into the depths of another mound, not on the demon who stood unmoving farther into the chamber. She stuck her hands out to either side and grew clear Nevermelt gauntlets that ended in sickles longer than Kole’s blades. She crossed them before her chest, her look resolved for the coming fight.
Kole did not want to peel his eyes from the beast that stood above his discarded blade, but Jenk wheeled to meet him, edging closer. Still the beast faced him down, unconcerned. Something was off about the exchange. Shifa did not so much as glance in the demon’s direction. Instead, she spun toward Pirrahn—no, toward the crevice Cress was only just starting to come out of. The hound growled, fur going up in a ridge.
“Cress!” Kole yelled, igniting his remaining blade.
The Blue Knight looked at him, confused, and then his eyes widened as he took in the demon who stood just beyond Kole.
“No!” Kole yelled. “Not there.” He saw the shadow shifting in the slab before Cress like a wraith made of blood. The Blue Knight turned before the end, but it was too late.
As Kole looked on in horror, a great red hand crashed through the wall of ice and caught Cress by the throat. The Blue Knight kicked and the air went milky along the surface of his palm as he tried to call his Nevermelt spear. The demon’s toothy visage followed, its white hair hanging in tangled, greasy threads. The Blue Knights were strong, but that seemed to count for nothing here, as the beast slammed Cress into the back wall and pressed. Cress couldn’t spare enough voice to raise more than a strangled sob, and then his eyes ran red and his nose dripped the same. There was a sickening crunch and he stilled, and the demon grinned, all fangs, and held him there for a moment.
Pirrahn let out an anguished cry as she turned and launched herself at the demon. Shifa matched her, flying toward his red arm, but the demon melted away, fading as if he had never been there at all. His laughter filled the chamber, and Kole saw his leering, demented face reflected in every slab, mound and icy boulder that littered the cave. He turned toward his thrown blade and the image of the demon that still stood smiling above it. Image, because the flames of his blade did not so much as light the red skin or the boney spurs of its armor at all.
“Jenk …” Kole drew it out as he moved toward the other Ember, who spun in slow circles among the slabs.
“How do we find him?” Jenk asked.
Pirrahn fell over Cress as Shifa guarded her. She cradled him, but his head lolled, and soon enough her grief was supplanted by rage. She stood and turned, and then she darted at the shard closest to her that bore the demon’s laughing face and plunged her blade through it, shattering it.
“There’s one way,” Kole said. He dove toward his other blade and snatched it up. He came up slashing, and when the flaming sword passed through the red brute, it merely smiled and faded like a reflection in the surface of a pond.
A pop and sizzle, and Kole spun just in time to avoid the smoky black blade of the Shadow girl. He brought his right blade across his body and saw her purple eyes go wide as she rolled away and burst into a pocket of ink that clung to the pillars and stones. The air smelled of rot and smoke, and Kole ignored the leering images of the red beast as best he could, waiting for the Shadow to reappear.
Kole yelled out as Pirrahn shattered another slab, and another. The demon’s image grew solid in the slab in front of him, shattered it and reached for the Ember with frightening speed. Jenk brought his yellow sword up in a quick strike that had the demon recoiling. Two Nevermelt spears passed through its back and protruded from the front, but came out bloodless as it faded once more.
Pop.
Kole was ready. He saw the light warp atop the tallest mound in the chamber and sprinted toward it. When the Shadow appeared, her eyes showed uncommon fear as she took in his approach. She slid down the back side of the mound, black sword only half formed in her outstretched palm, and fled down the tunnel to the north.
Kole skidded to a halt as he heard another slab crack and shatter behind him, heard Pirrahn roar and then choke out a startled sound. He spun and saw the demon holding her aloft, but Jenk had guessed right this time. The Ember sped in, glowing sword leading, and drove it in. The demon looked annoyed this time as it melted away and let the Blue Knight drop to the cavern floor, where she caught herself and let her gauntlets drop away, splashing the frost with fresh water as she clutched at her throat.
“Go!” Jenk yelled, stalking between the slabs. “Kole, go! After her! She’s his right hand. Get her, and we’ve got something. We’ve got this.”
Kole took one more step toward Jenk, but the Ember chanced a look his way that told him all it needed to. Kole needed to trust him, otherwise the Shadow would dance away again. Again and again, until the world ended.
“Shifa,” Kole said, turning toward the deeper dark of the tunnel. The hound sprinted past Pirrahn, who had regained her feet and was in the process of making her gauntlets once more, and charged past Jenk as the Ember readied for the next attack.
Kole ran as fast as his legs would carry him, not trying to conserve his heat. His blades lit the path ahead, and in the darkness of the tunnel, he saw those lavender eyes smoldering from atop another promontory. Daring him to follow.
Shifa outstripped him. It seemed no matter how fast he was and no matter how much fire he put in his legs, the nimble, bold hound would always reach the end of their present road first.
The tunnel lit bright yellow and gold for a blinding instant. The Shadow shielded her eyes and shrieked and Kole slid. He lost his balance as he turned, frantic. He half expected to see Jenk spitted on the end of one of those red-clawed fists. Instead, he saw the Ember pouring a torrent of yellow fire from the end of his blade into a door-shaped slab, which melted away. He spun and launched a crescent out as he whirled to burn away another of the icy shards, ensuring he could not be taken by surprise. Pirrahn shrank toward the back of the chamber, squinting as she attempted to suss out the next avenue of attack.
“I really need to stop underestimating you, Ganmeer,” Kole said. He meant it to Shifa, but the hound had continued on ahead. He turned and saw her nearly reach the Shadow beast, who was just recovering from Jenk’s blinding
flare. The hound leapt over the shallow mound on which she perched, and the Eastern Dark’s servant just managed to melt away in the darkness that rushed back in like an interrupted wave.
Shifa landed in a slide, her claws echoing atop the ice in the gloom. Kole caught up to her as she regained her balance, and together the two of them flew, boot and paw barely skimming the surface of the ice, which was growing slicker under the focused heat Jenk filled the antechamber with. The tunnel sloped downward for a short spill before angling back up. Kole could see daylight and feel the refreshing kiss of the open air. There was a howl like wind from the demon at their backs, and while there was no further sign of the clever Shadow, Kole and Shifa knew she was there.
If a part of him felt a fool for following the creature so brazenly, the greater part was eager to see what she had in store for him.
The light was blinding white as they broke the space from cavern to open sky. The ground grew rough, Kole’s boots breaking the crust of frost and salt as he raised one arm over his eyes. He felt Shifa press her side against the front of his knees as he came to a quick stop. She growled, adjusting quicker than he could.
Kole blinked away a few tears and the frozen wind dried the rest as his vision cleared. He pulled his arm away but kept his blades lit, pulling some of the fire from his legs and feeling it flood back into his chest. He sent it down the veins of his arms and felt it tingle the tips of his fingers. The flames along the Everwood lengths responded, lapping up the renewed energy from his hands and going from orange to amber with flecks of red.
They found themselves in a miniature valley. The walls rose on three sides. Kole might have been able to clear the top and reach the surface of the frozen sea with a running start, but even that would be a near thing. The borders of the edged bowl were white and glittering. It looked like snow, but Kole felt the sting as the wind kicked the salted dust into his eyes, where it gathered around the red rims and settled there in a paste he had no time to clear.
The sky was bright. Brighter than it had been just a short time before, and Kole chanced a look to the west, where the tails of the gray storm clouds Linn had conjured or called could be seen racing away. The air was damp with their passing, but already the icy air was drying it out.
“You Embers sure are easy to lead.”
Kole hadn’t seen her, but now that he heard her voice, he saw the little beast’s diminutive profile sitting atop the wall directly ahead of him. She was black as midnight, shining like oil in the light of day. She sat like a child might, with her feet dangling over the edge, kicking in the wind. She watched him with interest, her lavender eyes switching to Shifa and back up again, as if she couldn’t decide which of them was the bigger fool.
“What, then?” Kole asked. “Show me the great trap you’ve laid.”
“You’re in it,” Shadow said. “Am I not threatening enough?” She smiled or sneered, her too-white teeth showing sharpened edges that Kole did not think had been there before.
“You don’t mean to fight me,” he said. “Not here. Not ever.” He let his burning blades fall a bit lower at his sides.
She pressed her palms flat into the frost and leaned back, kicking her legs up higher. “No, no. I suppose not. There you have me.” She looked up at the sky and then fixed her eyes back on him, all thought of mirth fleeing under the weight of her dark hunter’s intent. “Doesn’t change anything. I have you here, and here you will stay, brave Valley hero.”
Kole was growing impatient. He rolled his eyes and meant to say as much, but then she spoke.
“Unless …”
He watched her. Shifa stepped away from him and began to pace, her nose working at the air, no doubt sniffing out the ambush the Shadow intended to lay.
“Unless what?”
“Unless you give thought to joining with us, that is.”
“Joining with your master, you mean.”
The Shadow shrugged. “Call him a Sage. Call him the Eastern Dark. Call him Ray Valour or all manner of names besides.” She smiled. “Call him the winner in this conflict. For that is what he is soon to be.”
“Not if we have anything to say about it.”
“And what do you have to say?”
Kole frowned. He heard another shout echoing from inside the tunnel, felt another current of heat that had made it all the way through and caught the wind in the salt valley.
“Do you truly think the Frostfire Sage has your best interests at heart, and those of your fellows?” she asked. “Do you think she’ll truly be able to stop what’s coming.”
“The World Apart,” Kole said. “What your master called.”
“Who better to put it back?”
Kole had no answer. He swallowed and cursed himself for it as he saw those purple orbs flash in recognition. This one missed nothing.
“What’ll it be, then?” she asked. “Join with your once enemy against one you’ve yet to make and save the world you so cherish, or burn it all away?” Her smile dropped, and now her look verged closer to hate. Kole did not think it was meant for him alone. “I could not care less. Truly, I could not.”
“How bold of you. How brave.”
“Bold and brave,” Shadow mused. “Coward and craven. The former belong to heroes. The latter to those who survive them. I know which I intend to be.”
“And what of your master? What of the Eastern Dark? Has he truly had a change of heart? Does he truly regret his war upon the lands and all the people in them, upon the Sages and their ilk?”
“Do not speak as if you hold them in high esteem,” Shadow said, going so far as to laugh. “You, of all people.”
“What do you know of me, little beast?” Kole felt his blood go a bit hotter. He didn’t try to stop it. The Shadow’s eyes twitched down to his hands, no doubt marking the way the fire bled red.
“I think there is a lot of him in you,” she said. Her voice changed. It was subtle, and it might have been a trick or simply a mistake on his part, but Kole thought she sounded wistful, however brief.
“Who?”
“Rane.”
Kole did not speak. What could he say to that? Shadow watched him, seeming disappointed.
“Death, then,” she said. Her chin tilted up and she looked at something, someone, off to the side. Kole saw twin figures move up on either side of the bowl, standing with long, blowing hair. They were slender, but he left the details to the side, his attention still fixed on the Shadow.
“You can’t trap an Ember, Shadow,” Kole said. “You can only give him what he desires. The others might not want to admit it. Ganmeer, fighting that red beast in the gloom. Ve’Gah, battling your master and his lackeys. Rane, before the end. But the Embers were made to do one thing, and do it well. In truth, we’d be much better at ending the world than saving it.” He shrugged. “But we don’t always choose our lot.” She smiled, but Kole matched it. “You think I jest.”
“No, Kole Reyna,” she surprised him by saying. “I only think that I like you, and I look forward to seeing how it all ends.” She stood without effort, and Kole noticed how none of the salt or frost clung to her inky skin. She was all eyes, this one. “I do hope you’re left standing. The others of whom you speak, and those in the Valley core, clinging to the white rock and the moss along the lakes and streams. They have your spirit, but you’ve got something they do not. May you find it before the end.”
Shadow stepped away. She addressed her companions, but never took her eyes from Kole. “He’s all yours. Do yourselves a favor and make it quick. I’ve seen what happens when one thinks an Ember’s fire spent.”
Kole watched her turn toward the east. Her look, which had been light, turned grave. Kole listened and thought he heard thunder rack the sky, echoing along the bottoms of the clouds far above.
“Where are you from?” Kole asked as his would-be killers stepped over the lip of the ledge on which they stood and slid down into the bowl, trailing a glittering spray of dust that made misty rainbows in the s
un.
“You know,” one of them said, and the other, who looked very much the same, smiled. “Your world would call us strangers, and yet here we are, and with pleasure.”
Kole frowned. His heart picked up its pace.
“Landkist,” he said. “You are Landkist, from the World Apart. That fool went calling again, brought you in to do his dirty work. Did he run out of slaves?”
The slender, snow-white twins with pink eyes looked askance at once another. The male shrugged. “Call us what you will, Son of Fire,” he said. “Your Worldheart is strong, to bless you so. Strong, and foolish.” Kole frowned, confused.
“We come to save,” the female said.
“You are on the wrong side,” her brother intoned. It sounded as if nothing could give him more joy. “Your world is doomed. The Sages do not know this. They believe they can stop it, or use it to further their selfish ends. They cannot, and they, too, will die.”
“And what of you?” Kole asked.
“We are here to watch the convergence,” the female said. “And to kill Him, when he comes through. He ruined our world. He will do the same to yours, but he will pay for it. This we promise you.”
“You are on the wrong side,” the other said.
“Hearing that a lot, these days,” Kole said.
His blades had cooled, burning a faint yellow that was lost in the haze of the afternoon sun. It made diamonds in the frost below his feet. He poured in the heat he had held back and the fire changed, the waves along the Everwood lengths growing more jagged, speeding along like rivers, and the color changed, growing darker and more orange. He pushed it to red, and the reflections in the frost now leered up at him like rubies, or like droplets of blood.
The twins were well controlled. They did not react to the change in heat or to the sound of cracking as the thick permafrost began to groan and split beneath their feet due to Kole’s vibrant aura. Instead, they stepped back and began to circle. Shifa stepped away from Kole, already panting in the wash of heat.
The Frostfire Sage (The Landkist Saga Book 4) Page 58
