Anne was mouthing a word, but no sound came out, her shallow breath rasping. Her hand squeezed Nara’s insistently, and she tried to say the word again. A single syllable. Nara couldn’t tell what it was.
Anne squeezed Nara’s hand again, gritting her teeth, then tried to speak, but Nara still couldn’t understand. Her lips were trying to form words, but no sound was coming out. Nara focused harder, and then she saw it.
Cup. She was trying to say cup. How foolish, she had forgotten about the cup Gwyn gave her. Nara pulled the cup out of her pack. Wear marks on it made the cup look ancient, and a strange rune was newly scratched upon its face, one she’d never seen before.
She placed it on the ground in front of her, then looked up to see Kayna’s forces reassembling. What remained of her cavalry was gathering and would charge again soon.
She looked at Anne, who rested her head on Nara’s lap. Anne reached up to touch Nara on the chest. She pushed. Twice. Her mouth moved.
Barely audible, she whispered, “Go,” then closed her eyes and fell unconscious on Nara’s lap, certainly on the edge of death. But there was nothing more Nara could do.
Oh, Anne, not like this!
She tenderly lifted Anne’s tiny form away from the bloody soil, then laid her gently on clean grass several feet away. The vibration of galloping horses got Nara’s attention and she looked up to see that Kayna’s cavalry had begun another charge.
The cup bore a rune—perhaps that would be useful. Nara raced back to the cup and sat on the ground, looking at the rune. Hands on the ground below to brace herself against another dizzy spell, she closed her eyes and pictured the rune in her mind. It came quickly. She flared it.
An odd feeling came over Nara as images flooded her vision. A boy, sitting on a slope, looking over a long valley and a river. He was eating a sandwich. There was a girl nearby — no, she was closer than that. The image became clearer. The girl was sitting right next to the boy on a blanket, having a picnic lunch together. Young lovers? It made little sense. How could a picnic help fight a battle?
Nara opened her eyes, eager to stall the charge somehow. She stood to her feet and took several steps forward. She couldn’t get there in time. She stooped to retrieve an arrow that was sticking out of the ground, preparing to throw it at the lead horse. Perhaps it would stumble and disrupt the charge.
The rune was important, however. Important enough for Anne to insist with what might have been her dying breath. It nagged at her. She was missing something. Summoning the image of the cup’s rune again, she flared it. The odd feeling returned, and images streamed through her mind, but they were different this time. A shop in Fairmont, a man sitting on a stool, working. He was a fletcher, shaping the shaft of an arrow with a whittling knife. The image changed, now that same man was polishing an arrowhead. She looked at the arrow in her hand.
Could it be?
She whirled, looking at the ground where she sat on the earth a moment earlier, her hands on the soil. Sloped ground, with a view of a valley below. A valley with a river. It was the perfect place for young lovers to have a picnic.
The rune read memories. Memories of places. Of things!
Her eyes darted toward the cavalry charge, hoping that it wouldn’t devastate her fleeing troops and that she’d have time to act, despite her lack of strength. She stooped to grab the cup, held it firmly in her hand, then flared the new rune again.
Images of a cavern came to her. Huge, bigger than the one near Eastway. Flowing water, fire weeds, birds, grass. And a classroom. Children at seats. A teacher with wavy auburn hair, drinking water from a cup as she moved about the room.
Come on, Anne, what are you trying to tell me? Teachers and caverns? How can this help?
She flared the rune harder, focusing on the cup in the teacher’s hand. It wasn’t just any cup, it was this cup, the very one Nara held now; the shapes were identical. The woman moved about the room, leading the class in a recitation. No, not a recitation. The teacher was saying single words as she pointed, the children repeating them. Nara focused on where the teacher was directing their attention, following her finger through the blurry image. High on the walls of the classroom were images. Symbols. She focused harder. They were runes!
Nara listened to the words as the teacher pointed. The runes were hard to make out, many designs she didn’t recognize. Then she saw the fire rune and heard the teacher.
“Aysh,” the woman said.
The children echoed. “Aysh.”
The teacher pointed toward the sound rune, “Ni-shma.”
“Ni-shma.”
She pointed at the earth rune. “Uf-fhal.”
“Uf-fhal,” said the class.
The runes have names!
Nara threw the cup down, flaring speed and running for the cavalry just as they approached the rearguard of her retreating army. As she ran, she screamed, “Uf-fhal” and flared earth as hard as she could. The ground shook with each of her footfalls as if she were a giant smashing the earth with a hammer. It was asking for orders, shouting obedience in time with her steps. Far greater power than she had ever felt before from the earth, and it asked for none of her energy, using only its own. Incredible! She commanded it, the ground rose, and she was upon a roiling pillar of rocks and dirt, racing toward the enemy riders. She called to the soil of the slope, and it collapsed under the cavalry, burying them, aborting the attack just before impact with her fleeing army.
Nara turned, looking down at Kayna’s still-approaching troops. One against almost three thousand. Weakness in her legs reminded her that most of her strength was gone, but now she wielded a new weapon, her favorite, and mastery of it requiring none of her own strength now that she knew its name.
She reached down and ordered the earth to yield some of its own power, to fill her spirit with the strength she knew it had, but it refused. It would go where she willed and change its shape as she commanded, but its spirit was its own and would not be shared.
It might be enough. Her friends needed to escape, and there was a Queen that needed to die.
She told the earth to carry her forward, and it obeyed.
36
Cataclysmos
Mykel dropped his staff and set Sammy down in the middle of the pass as several hundred men, soldiers, and horses galloped past him in full retreat. Nara had cleared the way for their escape, but as he looked around, she was nowhere to be found. Was she leading the retreat or staying behind to stall the enemy?
Sammy breathed but still slept, a large red mark from Mykel’s strangulation still around his neck. As he examined his brother, it was clear that Kayna’s magic had twisted the boy. Not just making him grow, but altering his shape. His eyebrows weren’t even, and his jaw was now pronounced. Oddly, Mykel now realized how much Sammy looked like Pop. But Pop was never this big.
Sammy was supposed to be dead. They had been wrong, somehow, and finding him this way was a curse in itself. He lived, however, and Mykel was grateful. Thank Dei for that. But Sammy was changed in such a horrible way, no longer the delightful boy who ran about the woods and blushed when he was teased. He was a rampaging monster and had violently attacked Nara. He could have killed her, even though they had been friends. Kayna had changed more than his body, somehow teaching him a hatred for Nara. His mind had been twisted and when he awoke, that anger might resurface. Mykel couldn’t leave Sammy without first knowing where Nara was.
“Where is she?” he asked of soldiers that ran by. “Nara. Where is she?”
They continued their retreat.
He flagged down a mounted spearman. “Where is Nara?”
The man pointed back to the battlefield.
She was still fighting. Alone. Without her Guardian by her side.
He grabbed the staff and took a last look at his broken, twisted brother, angry at himself for not having been in Dimmitt to defend him. He then turned and broke into a full sprint for the battlefield.
Kayna rose to watch the rout, Nara’s f
orces in full retreat through the pass. As Kayna’s cavalry made a charge to end the enemy, however, the ground erupted, and most of her cavalry were completely swallowed up by the earth. Gone. It was just that fast.
She squinted to see a lone figure on the slope. It was Nara, red hair blowing in the breeze as she rode a pillar of rocks straight at the royal army. Curse Dei!
Nara’s charge was fast and straight, directly toward Kayna and her troops. Brave girl, but she couldn’t take that many.
Moments later, the ground beneath Kayna’s infantry sprouted sinkholes that sucked soldiers down by the dozens. Columns appeared under the archers’ feet, launching them into the air. The entire slope quaked in chaos, shifting, rising and falling at the whim of her sister. Rocks came up to the surface, then fell, churning the earth, sucking in her army and crushing, then burying hundreds of royal troops.
Some of Kayna’s elites charged forward, but many of her soldiers broke ranks, having no way to move or attack when the ground they depended on had now become their enemy. Cowards! But Nara was no normal enemy. She commanded the earth beneath their feet today, and it was obeying her.
Kayna refused to lose her army over this. Or her crown. Curling a lip in frustration, she rose with the air, calling to a sergeant nearby, and pointed behind the platform at the string of prisoners. “Keep them close to me,” she said. “Looks like I may need them.”
Nara’s first wave of attacks fell upon the front lines, sinkholes and churning earth killing many and confusing others. There was no time for lamenting the lost lives—she was up against an entire army herself, with little energy left in her spirit. If she could delay them long enough for her own army to escape, this would be a worthy effort.
Anne had faith in her and believed that Nara was the only one who could defeat Kayna. Now Anne was dying herself, on the other side of this battlefield. Sammy was misshapen and had been turned against her and Mykel. Children from across the Great Land had been captured and tortured. If she failed, the darkness would persist.
Nara was the only hope for an end to the horrors. She wouldn’t give up yet. Not when there was any chance of ending this fight with a win. She wielded the name of the earth, and although weak, she wasn’t out of strength just yet.
Directing the pillar that carried her to the right, she blocked the passage of any remaining horsemen from slipping around toward the pass. Then she realized—she didn’t need to block them herself; she could let the earth do it. She willed it to be, and a giant pit, hundreds of feet across and a dozen feet deep, appeared on the slope between Kayna’s army and the pass. Let them detour around that!
Again, she focused her attention on Kayna’s army, which was in disarray and confusion. Many more were fleeing. They may have held the battlefield for a while, but they didn’t seem eager to stay. Nara stopped advancing, hoping they would all retreat, only to be disappointed when she saw Kayna engage. Up from her platform the Queen rose, followed by a man on horseback leading a string of dirty, emaciated prisoners. Fuel for their mistress. Nara should have figured as much.
Nara had no such energy to draw from, but she had complete command of the earth, which now required almost no strength from her. “Uf-fhal!” she said again, flaring earth and reasserting her mastery over her best weapon. She hoped it would be enough.
Kayna came close, floating about twenty feet above the pitted slope, matching Nara’s height on her shifting pillar of earth. Nara was now eye-to-eye with the source of the Great Land’s troubles.
“I should have killed you when I had the chance,” Kayna yelled.
“And I you.”
Then half of the prisoners collapsed, writhing and shrinking, their life force sucked into Kayna from almost a hundred feet away without her even glancing at them. Nara used sight to discover that Kayna’s body was decorated with cepps. Rings on her fingers, bracers on her arms, and greaves under her dress shining so brightly they all had to be made of coral. Like the king’s armor.
Nara attacked first, sending a pillar of rock straight up at her sister, but Kayna easily dodged. Kayna was not vulnerable to the unstable earth that had scattered her army. She floated above it all, and Nara now realized how different this fight would be. Nara’s success had depended on her enemy standing upon the earth, but earth couldn’t touch Kayna. And Nara didn’t have the strength to attack any other way.
Wait. Yes, she did.
Behind Kayna, a thirty-foot wall of earth rose, then Nara flared the fire rune, screamed “Aysh” and let a torrent fly.
The power of fire, when its name was called, dwarfed any destruction Nara had ever seen before—a raging inferno erupting from her fingers toward her hated sister. It launched Kayna backward to impact the wall with a thundering sound that sent her into the dirt barrier, the crushing impact making a thunderous noise.
But Kayna had protection flared and recovered a moment later, a gust of wind sustaining her flight as she moved away from the earthen wall. She must have shielded herself from the fire with a gust of air, because her dress was only partially burned, now tattered and smoking. Her skin was scorched in places, raw and red, including her left shoulder, where the damage extended deep into the bone. Some of her hair was gone, burned away, but the health rune flashed, and Kayna’s body became whole once again, her face now twisted in a snarling rage. A gust of air launched the Queen forward.
Nara raised a rock wall to stop Kayna’s charge and give her time to send another burst of fire, but Kayna flared chaos and the wall fell apart. An instant later, Kayna was upon Nara, a hand around her arm, squeezing like a vise and spinning.
Supreme strength, far greater than Sammy’s, swung Nara toward the ground, but Nara flared protection just before impact. The collision took the breath out of her, and she was dizzy, unable to focus. She looked up just in time to see fire coming down from the heavens.
Again, she flared protection and also summoned earth to block the attack, but the earth was too slow, flames hitting her before the barrier could intercede. Her clothes singed and skin burned, even with the protection rune active. Kayna had so much strength, powered by coral cepps and devoured souls, her might was greater by far, and using protection had depleted Nara’s meager reserves even further.
Pain from the burns racked her body. She flared health and moved away on a pillar of earth. Movement caught her eye. Mykel was racing through the pit that blocked the pass. He leaped out of the depression and onto the slope, running directly for Kayna.
Kayna turned to follow Nara’s gaze.
“So, your lover comes to save the day, does he?”
Nara shot flames at Kayna, but just as she did so, Kayna flared motion without even looking in Nara’s direction, launching Nara into the air hundreds of feet away. The wind whistled through her ears as she fell, but before colliding, she transformed the earth below into soft dirt to ease the blow. It was still hard enough to twist her right forearm unnaturally on impact. Nara cried out as the pain burned hot.
She grabbed her broken arm with the other hand and pulled it straight with a scream, then flared health to knit the bone. Just a bit, not much—she dared not use all of her energy. Her legs grew weaker, and her vision blurred again. Looking up, she saw Kayna’s form high in the sky, silhouetted against the rising sun. Watching.
Struggling against the fatigue, Nara rose to her feet. Her legs would not run for her, so she commanded the earth again to propel her, high toward Kayna once again. But before she could finish her approach, a giant rock flew through the air and struck Kayna, knocking her sideways.
Mykel was throwing huge rocks at the Queen, screaming as he did so. Boulders far larger than a man’s head catapulted toward Kayna, most of them missing his target. Such strength he spent in his effort, but it was the only way he could attack her. Just then, beyond Mykel, Nara saw a large figure running at a full sprint for Mykel.
Sammy.
Struggling to focus her vision, Nara put up an earthen wall to block him, but Sammy charged r
ight through it, tackling Mykel and knocking the staff far from his reach. Arms locked about Mykel in fury as Sammy beat on his brother with thunderous blows and Nara could see Mykel’s protection rune failing.
Motion out of the corner of her eye alerted Nara and she turned to see Kayna flying on the wind toward her, chaos flared. Nara threw up an earthen wall, but it disintegrated. She flared protection, but it shredded.
This was it. This was the end.
Even the name of earth would not defeat Kayna. The name of fire had done no better.
But she hadn’t tried sound.
Sound, you are the key, I know you are, she thought. What was your name?
Then she had it. Ni-shma.
She flared the sound rune and called, “Ni-shma!”
The power of sound’s name being uttered propelled Kayna backward, forcing her to steady herself in the air.
Again, Nara flared the rune, screaming ever louder, “Ni-shma!” The ground shook with the power of Nara’s twice-amplified voice, columns of rock in the landscape below shattering with the power she uttered. An avalanche crashed down in the pass, thundering and building as if bowing in obedience to the power of her voice. So much power in the names!
Power that might change everything.
Her thoughts turned to earth. So many times, she had flared the earth rune, and it was a friend, a willing partner. She’d shaped it, coaxed it, let it ease the pain of her headaches or asked it to carry her strength to Mykel as he fought. But when she asked for it to yield her its energy, it refused. Time and again, it said no. Things were different, now. She had the name of earth, and she had the name of sound, and she could use one to command the other. With power in her voice, Nara now flared the earth rune with all her might and screamed with her very soul, “UF-FHAL!”
She heard a giant crack, and the spirit of the earth broke open.
The Godseeker Duet Page 53
