The Godswar Saga (Omnibus)

by Jennifer Vale

  “Not if they’re overrun,” Elade said, her eyes narrowing. “They could still pluck our location from the minds of the others.”

  “They will hold. Kyle won’t let the bloody Crell wipe us out, not after all we’ve been through.”

  “They don’t need to wipe you out; once they realize the cube isn’t there, they’ll pull back.” Elade turned away from the window and glanced back at the other woman. “Once this is over, you’re going to have to explain to me how your ‘resistance’ has survived this long without understanding the power of Crell Imperators.”

  Ria’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “We understand the Crell just fine. We’ve been fighting them for decades while you sit in your fortress half a world away.”

  “And the moment Galvia lost its king, your armies fell apart,” Elade said. “Without Bound of your own, you couldn’t possibly stand up to the throngs of channelers scouring the countryside for you. A small group of rebels might be able to wage a hit-and-run campaign in a city the size of Lyebel, but according to Adar your group consists of hundreds of loyal supporters. The Crell could have wiped you out at any moment, but they haven’t. Why?”

  Jason glanced between the two women. “Uh, this might not be the best time for—”

  “You have no idea what you’re talking about, paladin,” Ria hissed. “This isn’t your fight. You don’t know anything about us.”

  “What I know is that a group of urban guerilla fighters without channelers stands no chance against a swarm of enemy Imperators and even less against a ruthless organization like the Zarul. The Crell have allowed you to survive. Surely you can see that.”

  Ria snorted. “And why in the hell would they do that?”

  “I don’t know…yet,” Elade said. “Tevek suspected that the demons might be causing the Crell so much trouble that they can’t focus on you. If that’s true, the timing of this infestation is quite convenient, isn’t it?”

  “Hold on a second,” Jason stammered. His brain was working again, and he could tell that Elade had been thinking about this for a while now. “What are you suggesting?”

  “There’s a demonic taint slathered all over the docks, including the rebel compound. The aura is faint enough that Tevek couldn’t sense it, but I could.”

  Ria shook her head. “Are you seriously suggesting that we’re summoning demons to fight off the Crell? Are you insane?”

  “Desperate men make desperate pacts,” Elade said with a shrug. “It would hardly be the first time someone in need has called out to a creature of the Void. Besides, it’s painfully clear to everyone that your leader is hiding something.”

  “Of course Kyle is hiding something!” Ria snapped. “We’re not going to tell you everything about our operation just because you came traipsing into our homes with your fancy blue capes. We don’t answer to the Last Dawn, and we never have.”

  “Look, we should really save this debate for a later time,” Jason said, stepping between them. “Right now I’d just like to know how the battle is going.”

  Elade closed her eyes and turned away. “The Zarul sent several squads—the compound is completely surrounded, and Tevek and the others have fallen back to a more defensible position at the center of the base.”

  Jason balled his hands into fists. He should have been there along with the others. Tam and Sel were inside fighting for their lives, and here he was hiding out inside a rundown shack. Hopefully Gor could get there in time to help, and Sarina…he had no way of knowing where she was at all. If the Coats were attacking, though, that must have meant she didn’t find them—or that they had already dealt with her on the way.

  “Adar is wounded but alive,” Elade reported. “The attack seems contained for the moment; I’m not sure the Crell were expecting such a tight defense.”

  “We’re full of surprises,” Ria said caustically, turning to Jason. “Maybe now you’ll understand how badly we need that cube.”

  “Trust me,” Jason whispered, “I do.”

  She grunted. “Then why didn’t you do something about it? You could have handed it over to us the moment you arrived.”

  “That wouldn’t have changed anything,” Jason told her. “Whatever happens here, we’ll need to—”

  “Selvhara has been wounded,” Elade announced, freezing in place. “She may be dead.”

  “What?” Jason gasped, leaping over to her.

  “Tevek is trying to fight off her attacker.” Her jaw tightened and then flinched. “I should be there with him.”

  “Yes, you should,” Ria said. “The cube is ours, and we can protect it here just fine.”

  Jason glared daggers at her. “Would just you shut the hell up for one minute?”

  He turned back to study Elade, whose face was tensed by otherwise unreadable. Sel couldn’t die. Not like this, in some pointless skirmish because he wasn’t there with her…

  Gor had been right about the cube all along. They should have handed it over to Heist. Jason hadn’t even known what the hell it was, but if he had just given it over they would all be safe right now. At worst, he could have just let that Shadow take the damn thing. They would probably still be in Taig partying, or maybe even here in the middle of the city. It wouldn’t matter—they would be rich and free, without a care in the world.

  Sarina would have been furious, and Sel probably would have been too, but they would have gotten over it. Most importantly, they would have both been safe right now. This wasn’t their war and never had been. An Asgardian had no business fighting over Galvian soil, and with the death of Jason’s father Selvhara should have gone home a long time ago.

  Why the hell had he even dragged them to Lyebel in the first place? He knew something like this would happen; every time he stepped back into his father’s world, death and tragedy swiftly followed. A decade ago he had lost his mother and most of his friends. A few years ago he had even lost his father. And all of it was from this stupid war that refused to go away.

  Jason glanced down at the satchel in his hand. He imagined himself handing it over to Heist, and he shook his head. Given the same choice right this instant, he still would have held onto it. No matter what else happened, he couldn’t allow the Crell to get their hands on it. Not now, not ever. The war for Galvia might have been over, but he couldn’t just hand Torsia over to them on a golden plate…

  Elade’s body suddenly went rigid. Her eyes moved as if she was looking for something inside her head, and then she froze entirely.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  She turned her head to face him. “Tevek is gone.”

  ***

  The elysian sprawled meekly across the floor as Kroll backhanded her across the face. Separated from her bond, she was little more than a feeble old woman. It sickened him to think that someone so frail could have had such awesome power bequeathed to her. She was a parasite leeching off the grandeur of others.

  “This is the last time I will ask,” Kroll said. “Where is the cube?”

  She babbled some elysian gibberish at him, and he reached down and clutched her by the throat. He slammed her into the wall, holding her up before him with his left hand. She feebly attempted to wriggle free, but Kroll merely scoffed and hefted up his sword. With a quick slash he sliced open the front of her robe, then placed the tip of his blade at her bare stomach.

  “I can kill you instantly or leave you to bleed out on the floor,” he told her. “It’s your choice, witch.”

  “The cube isn’t here,” the Imperator behind him said, stepping forward from his cover. His brow was creased in concentration. “A small group of rebels slipped away a few hours ago to hide it in a different safe-house.”

  Kroll’s eyes narrowed. “Where?”

  The other man focused his gaze upon the witch as he telepathically scoured her mind. “A small shack on the northern end of 29th street.”

  “Excellent, Kroll said, smiling. “Get moving: I’ll order the reinforcements to meet us there.” He focused on his
link with Sovereign Damir, and through her he reached out to communicate with the rest of his team. The cube is at a safe house on 29th street. Secure the area and wait for me—do not engage. Suppression teams, begin pulling back one at a time, but slowly. I don’t want them following.

  He received a slew of confirmations before turning back to his prey. “You could have saved yourself a lot of pain by cooperating earlier,” he told her. “Now I’m afraid you will have to suffer.”

  Kroll slid his blade through her belly. She lurched forward reflexively, blood leaking from her gasping lips, and he twisted the weapon to ensure that he left behind a slow but ultimately fatal wound. Once he was content with his work, he slid the blade free and dropped her body to the floor.

  He turned back towards the doorway and waited. He needed to get moving, but there was still one piece of unfinished business left before he did so. Stepping behind one of the overturned cabinets, he knelt down and waited for his bait to attract his next victim.

  Less than a minute later, a set of heavy footfalls bounded into the room, and Kroll heard an exasperated gasp following by the clattering of armor against the floor.

  “Maeleon have mercy,” a deep male voice breathed. “Hold still…just hold still.”

  Smiling, Kroll leaned around the corner of the cabinet. The ongoing battle was easily loud enough to muffle his movements, and he extended his hand and reached out to the Aether once more. The paladin’s Aetheric tethers slowly became visible, and Kroll squeezed his mental fist about them…but then stopped. More than anything in the world, he desperately wanted to face the legendary Tevek Dracian in combat. He wanted to kill the other man blade to blade, man to man, until he cowered and begged for mercy.

  But Kroll knew he didn’t have time for such indulgences, not with a divine spark so close within his reach. There was far too much on the line to risk a real battle with this man here and now. He would just have to settle with a quick kill.

  “Run,” the witch croaked.

  Dracian shook his head in confusion. His hands glowed with blue light as they touched her body and tried to heal her wounds. “What?”

  “It was a warning,” Kroll said, standing. “You should have listened.”

  Dracian snapped his head up at the new voice, but he was too late. Kroll severed the Aetheric tethers linking the paladin to Maeleon, and then he watched in delight as the mighty Highlord of the Last Dawn collapsed to his knees in shock and pain.

  “For what it’s worth, I would have rather cut you down in broad daylight, old man,” Kroll whispered. “But I suppose killing you over the corpse of your elf whore will have to suffice.”

  Thrusting out his hand, Kroll hurled another shockwave of force across the room.

  The paladin responded reflexively, lifting his arm—and the shield he no longer had the power to summon—in order to deflect the blast. Instead his elbow snapped and buckled backwards, and his armored body crashed through the wood wall and tumbled out into the darkness. He bounced twice off the cobblestone road before finally sliding to a halt and remaining motionless.

  Pivoting back around, Kroll leapt out the hole on the opposite wall and sprinted off across the city. He still had a divine spark to retrieve.

  And another paladin to break.

  ***

  Kyle Adar clasped his fingers onto the overturned table and desperately tried to drag himself back to his feet. The unmistakable sounds of combat still rang clearly in the next room; swords clashed, bolts fired, and Tam tried to fend off the Crell with his magic. But even with a renegade sorcerer on their side—even with the Highlord of the Last Dawn fighting in the next room—they were still rapidly losing ground. And if he and the others met their ends here, the war that had consumed their homeland for over a decade would finally be over. Galvia would be lost.

  Adar chuckled bitterly between coughs. The situation couldn’t be more absurd. Fate had finally delivered them a weapon capable of turning this war on its head, and they might not even live to use it. Worse, Ethan was the one responsible for baiting the paladins into Lyebel in the first place, and now their very presence was preventing him from reinforcing the compound with demons. Even the Zarul wouldn’t have been able to contend with a swarm of the vicious Void-spawned creatures. The irony was thicker than the smoke slowly building up inside the compound.

  But Adar wasn’t about to give up. Not yet, not while he still drew breath. Eventually he managed to hoist himself to a half standing position, and the pain receded to the point where it was at least bearable. He had taken two hits just a few minutes earlier, and he would have been dead if not for his armor and Tevek’s swift ministrations. The paladin had used his healing magic to stabilize everyone he could before he’d dashed off to reinforce the southwestern side of the compound. Now it was up to Adar to hold the line until Tevek and Selvhara got back.

  Biting his lip against the pain, Adar reached out and swept up his crossbow from the floor. He took a moment to reload the bolt cartridge and then dragged himself back towards the adjacent room. He peeked around the door frame, being sure to stay low, and appraised the situation.

  The room’s eastern wall had been almost totally destroyed. The few remaining planks were immolated in flames, and smoke freely billowed out into the cool night air. The rebel defenders had all taken cover behind whatever they could find, from tipped-over shelves to thick wooden crates. Bolts stuck out of virtually everything, including the half dozen corpses strewn across the floor. The battle seemed to be at something of a standoff; the initial rush had been repelled, and now the attackers were firing periodically into the room at anyone who tried to leave cover. The rebel teams on the street should have had the attackers pinned in a crossfire by now, but they were likely under attack themselves—or possibly already dead.

  Scowling, Adar tried to glance through the doorway’s smoke but couldn’t discern a damn thing outside. He waved a hand to try and get Tam’s attention, and the blond man eventually nodded in recognition and dove behind a nearby table. His face was covered in soot and ash, and a small ball of Aetheric flame simmered in his palm.

  “Can you get a light out there?” Adar asked. “I can’t see a bloody thing.”

  “Trust me; I’ve tried,” Tam said back, wincing as another volley of bolts pelted his cover. “But their Imperators are countering half my spells.”

  Adar swore under his breath. As if they needed any more evidence proving the absolute necessity of acquiring their own channelers. The Crell outside could freely coordinate their forces, while the rebels were stuck blind and deaf inside their own base Even if they did somehow manage to survive this siege, Tevek was going to see through their little charade as clear as day. He would understand that the rebels couldn’t have possibly held out this long against the Crell without some kind of assistance.

  Distantly, Adar almost wished that Ethan would have sent in his demons for defense regardless of the risks. At least then they could hold off the Crell and try to reason with Tevek.

  Adar flinched as the last wooden support column by the besieged doorway finally buckled and collapsed in a flaming heap. At this point, the smoke was growing so thick he probably wouldn’t have been able to see anything even in broad daylight. The Crell recognized that just as surely as he did, of course, and another volley of bolts splattered against his cover. A few seconds later, a swarm of dark, lightly-armored figures leapt through the hole in the wall.

  Grimacing, Adar picked the closest target and fired. His shot pierced through the man’s right shoulder and dropped him to the ground. The other rebels followed their commander’s lead and squeezed off their own shots. Two more attackers crumpled beneath the unexpected salvo, but the three Crell who survived immediately struck back: their hands flashed with magic, and a barrage of shimmering violet orbs streaked into the room and exploded. Adar winced at the choked-off screams of his people, and he pressed himself flat against the floor.

  The room became a surreal tempest of brilliant light and
thundering explosions. Tam flipped out of his cover and retaliated with spells of his own, and between the smoke and the clashes of magic, Adar could barely even make out what was going on. Between the deafening blasts, he swore he heard another chorus of panicked screams, and out of the corner of his eye he saw a few of the Imperators leap back out into the street to avoid Tam’s flaming fury.

  But even an Unbound was no match for so many opponents. Even as the young man hurled death from his fingertips, a pair of wayward bolts whistled through the air and stabbed into his chest. He half-yelped, half-screamed, and the magic on his fingertips vanished as he collapsed to the floor in a limp heap.

  It was then, as Adar helplessly watched Tam crumple, that he knew it was over. His life, the Resistance…everything. It had been over for years now, in fact, ever since Ashenfel had fallen and King Whitestone had been slain. Ethan had sold them all on a lie—a lie that somehow, some way, they could win back their country from the Crell.

  But they couldn’t. A nation was only as strong as its Ascendant, and theirs was gone for good. Adar had known it all along, but he hadn’t been able to admit it to himself until just this moment.

  Hissing between his teeth, he leaned back against the closest wall and tossed his crossbow to the floor. The Crell channelers crept towards him, their hands still burning with magic, and Adar wondered distantly if being disintegrated would hurt as badly as the shots he had taken earlier…

  And then suddenly a blood-chilling roar bellowed from somewhere in the darkness outside. Adar’s breath caught in his throat, and the Imperators whirled around in unison to confront this new threat. The billowing wall of smoke parted, and a hulking figure that looked like the malformed union of a demon and a tiger leapt inside.

  Terrified and flat-footed, the Imperators stood no chance against the raging chagari. Gor ripped them apart with his claws like a great cat pouncing into a herd of sickly gazelles. In the span of a few seconds, the battle was over. For now.