Nyx creates a flame in her palm to attract the phoenix, smiling when the bird jumps to her wrist. “That demented gnome betrayed everyone and she got what she deserved. I promise to let you out of the scepter and separate you from the phoenix. I’ll have to defeat Sutter first.”
“Empty promises from a champion.”
“Why do you have a problem with me being a champion?”
“Because it was one of you who stole my freedom and ruined my bloodlines!” Casandra screams, shaking the nest with her rage. A storm appears overhead and crimson lightning batters the ground, creating fires in every direction. “I spent centuries rebuilding our people. I lost bloodlines to poor training, disease, death, or the misfortune of birthing a non-channeler. My reward was that an insane gnome railing against her destiny sealed me in a scepter. Now all of my work has been destroyed except for you and the chaos elf. Neither of you are much of a consolation prize since both of you have been badly trained. The other one seems to be of weaker blood too. I knew breeding with those fallen elves wouldn’t make the greatest addition, but beggars can’t be choosers.”
“If you’re so concerned with my training then let me beat Sutter and you can teach me how to be a channeler.”
A bolt of lightning hits the ground next to the half-elf, sending a shock of pain through her body and scaring the phoenix away. She dives out of the path of another blast, but a gust of chilling wind catches her. Nyx is hurled across the large nest and lands against the side, which crumbles into ashes. A hand of wood rises from the ground and smacks her across the face, igniting on impact and bursting into blinding sparks. The hair on the back of her neck rises, giving the caster enough time to create a shell and block the barrage of lightning. She remains curled within the shield until the storm stops and Casandra stands over her.
“You can never beat Sutter,” the woman claims, shattering the defensive spell with a gentle touch. “I sense that you have the power, but you’re too damaged. You hold back out of fear of losing control and hurting so-called friends. If Sharne was not there, you would have had a chance against the Ifrit. Instead, you restrained your power and left yourself weak.”
“So it’s wrong for a channeler to worry about hurting innocent bystanders?” Nyx asks as she stands. The ash on her face burns her eyes, but she is too angry to clean herself off. “No wonder our kind was wiped out and forgotten.”
“Watch your tongue, infant,” Casandra angrily snaps before trying to slap the half-elf in the face. Her blow is easily blocked, so she has a fist of solid wind punch the young woman in the chin. “We were a powerful and noble people who wanted nothing more than to live in peace. Our magic made us both feared and respected, so we got our wish. Then those arrogant elder dragons started the Race War to see whose favorite was strongest. They feared the channelers because we had the power to stop them, so they killed everyone except me. That’s the fate of our kind. An unnecessary genocide by creatures we thought were our friends.”
“What did you do?” the half-elf politely asks. With a snap of her fingers, she removes the ash from her body and ignores the scowl from her ancestor. “I remember reading that the dragons were killed by adventurers, but the war continued. Did you have a hand in that and fight in the war?”
“That would be the second betrayal done to our kind,” the elder channeler explains with a tired sigh. A throne appears beneath her, the shimmering gems and polished gold making Nyx shield her eyes. “I led a band of idiotic adventurers who stumbled along behind me as I killed the dragons. Like a child, I expected the war to stop when the great beasts were dead. Instead, it got worse and two armies emerged to battle over dominance. At the time, it proved that most mortals are nothing more than destructive children. So I kept the war going and played both sides until those idiots I called friends toppled me from power. They said it was for my own good, but they were too simple to understand what I was doing. If the world wanted to burn then I was glad to help it along.”
“You tried to destroy the world?”
“I was angry and foolish.”
“Sounds like those people really were your friends.”
“Well they’re dead now, so there’s no reason to dwell on them.”
The awkward silence lingers as the channelers wait for someone to speak. Nyx is distracted by the phoenix strutting around in search of pieces of charcoal hidden among the scattered mounds of ash. She can feel Casandra watching her, but refuses to make eye contact with the woman. The apprehension reminds her of the first week of being an apprentice at Rainbow Tower. In her youth, Nyx was in awe of the power her masters wielded. Now she stands before someone who dwarfs them in experience and magic. The half-elf nervously chuckles when she realizes that the same potential is within her own aura.
“Your friends will be killed by Sutter,” Casandra casually mentions, snapping Nyx out of her thoughts. “They have less of a chance than you. The gypsy will put up a fight, but she’s not experienced enough. You need raw power to defeat an Ifrit without years of experience. I’m sure you want to save them.”
“Send me back to them!”
“Only if you defeat me,” the elder channeler says as the throne dissolves. She walks to the middle of the nest and faces Nyx with her arms crossed. “I told you during our first meeting that I would ask you a final question. Now is the time for it. Do you think you have the power to defeat me?”
Not waiting for an answer, Casandra unleashes a swarm of fiery snakes without moving a muscle. Caught off guard, Nyx can only sprint and dive away from the spells, using a compact wind spell to repeatedly bounce back onto her feet. She ducks a blade of lightning and plunges her hands into the ground to send a wave of wooden spikes toward Casandra. The attack shatters against a shield that takes the form of a prismatic fortress. With a piercing whine, spears of light rain down on the half-elf who bursts into a pile of ashes. A gust of wind whips around the burning nest, creating a thick curtain of gray. Fireballs launch from random directions, each one bursting into smoke on the barrier. A shower of acid pours from above, but it sloughs around the glimmering fortress and melts through the nest.
With a tired sigh, Casandra has a blast of hurricane-strength wind push the ash away, which reveals Nyx hiding a few feet behind her. The half-elf is knocked back by a geyser of scalding water, her skin burned by the unexpected spell. Pressing her advantage, the more experienced channeler repeatedly hits her enemy with jets of water and spinning clubs of ice. Growling in frustration, the younger caster flings metal javelins at Casandra. The woman does not move an inch as the projectiles snap against her shield, even when one of them is aimed perfectly at the center of her forehead. Bored and disgusted by Nyx, the slender woman has the ground behind the half-elf flip and smash her like an insect. She is mildly surprised when her battered opponent crawls out of the wreckage and collapses in a gasping heap.
“You’re like a cockroach,” Casandra says with mild amusement. She moves for the first time since the battle began, extending her arm for the phoenix to land. “I was afraid that your pitiful training had wasted your talent. Channeling is our life and magic is our most precious tool. You wield it like a child’s toy with all your running and jumping around. Though the other one is worse in that respect. I had such high hopes for you, but it seems the ways of mundane casters are too engrained in you.”
“Trinity and I are evenly matched,” Nyx states as she slips her hand beneath her to rub her aching stomach. She gets on her hands and knees, but cannot push herself up any further. “I have more magic power, but she beats me in hand-to-hand combat. So don’t talk like either of us are weaklings.”
“Who needs physical training when you have magic?”
“I wondered why you didn’t move during our fight.”
“Channelers don’t need motion to cast spells.”
“What if we lost our magic?”
“It would be like losing all of our limbs.”
A bolt of green energy fires from under Nyx and str
ikes Casandra’s shield with a crackling burst. The channeler’s smile fades when the projectile shatters her barrier and cuts across her side, sending a shock of cold throughout her body. She attempts to revive the defensive spell, but nothing happens even when she resorts to gestures and words. The sound of Nyx standing brings her attention to the simple crossbow in the half-elf’s hand.
“You idiot!” Casandra shouts at the approaching caster. “Channelers can’t use magic items that they didn’t design. The foreign aura temporarily locks our powers. Now neither of us have our magic.”
“That’s not really a problem for me,” Nyx states as she drops the weapon and cracks her knuckles. “Unlike you, I can function without my magic. You never dodged my spells and it was very easy to stop you from slapping me before. In all of your years, Casandra, you never learned how to really fight.”
The phoenix caws and flies away as Nyx rushes forward, a victorious grin already on her face. She nails Casandra in the nose with a punch that sends the woman reeling back. Following up on her advantage, she knocks the channeler on her back with another running punch to the chest. Nyx waits for the woman to stand before grabbing her by the ears and headbutting her back to the ground. Remembering that she was hit while she was down, the half-elf returns the favor with a stomp of her heel to Casandra’s stomach.
“This is pathetic,” Nyx admits as she recovers her crossbow. She fires another bolt that grazes the other woman’s leg, making sure their powers stay locked for a bit longer. “All I have to do is shoot and pummel you into pulp. You might have stronger magic than me, but that means nothing once you lose it. Trinity can do this too, so I guess we’re not as weak as you thought. Now surrender or I’ll kill you.”
“Then you and your friend will burn in the volcano,” Casandra feebly threatens, touching her broken nose. “Without me, you won’t be able to return to your friends. Not that you can beat Sutter anyway.”
“Send me back and I’ll show you what I can do to that Ifrit,” the half-elf growls, fire running through her hair. She has the flames dance along her arms and coil around her body, the display mesmerizing the channeler. “By the shocked look on your face, I’m guessing your magic is still gone. I’ve lost my powers a few times in my life, so maybe I’m better at regaining them. Now do as I ask or I’ll take my anger out on you some more. I might even give you a taste of your own medicine since I have my magic back. Those were some interesting spells you hit me with, so I wonder if you can handle them without that pretty shield.”
“What do I get if I help you?” Casandra asks, cringing when the champion comes closer. “I have no body thanks to Nuerin. The phoenix and I are one, so being free from the ruby means I’m stuck in Helgard. How is that a way to live?”
“Then be my guardian and mentor. Teach me about who and what I am,” Nyx gently whispers as she kneels next to the bloodied woman. “If you want a place for our kind then I’ll gladly let that be Helgard. After cleaning the volcano up, I’ll have to continue traveling with my friends and you will be in charge. Summon those whose powers are connected to you and create a new city for channelers. At the very least, you can turn my temple into a school for those that share your blood. You have my blessing, but first you must send me back to Sutter.”
Casandra sits up and the phoenix lands on her head, healing her injuries immediately. “I still don’t think you can beat him.”
“I beat you. Just get my friends out of the way and I’ll show you exactly what your bloodline can do.”
*****
The battle raging on top of Helgard has been brutal and one-sided. Luke is partially transformed and unconscious near the stairs after being struck by a fire storm, the elemental resistance of the spirit naga the only thing that saved his life. Delvin is sprawled a few feet away in a small indent made from when Sutter hurled him clear across the volcano. Sticking out from beneath him is Fizzle’s twitching tail, the drite having cushioned the warrior’s fall. Halfway down the volcano, Timoran struggles to climb back to the top with a groaning Dariana tucked under his arm. His face and chest are covered in blood from several gashes, which make it even harder to climb up the craggy mountain.
The only champion left standing is Sari, her dress torn and her skin covered in smoking bruises. Gasping and sweating, she faces Sutter who is already healing from her latest series of water spells. Pulling moisture out of the air, the gypsy covers herself in ice armor and grows a lance out of her arm. She charges and aims the weapon for her enemy’s chest, but he casually puts his hand in the way. The lance pierces his skin, turning his palm white and covering it in frost. Wincing in pain, Sutter pushes his hand down the weapon until he catches Sari’s fist. She is unable to escape as the Ifrit shatters her armor with a condensed burst of flame. Covered in sweat and nearly out of magic, the gypsy collapses to her hands and knees.
“You’re rather impressive for a partial blood,” Sutter admits, melting the lance and examining the frost-rimmed hole in his hand. “I expected the barbarian or the spirit channeler to be the biggest challenge. Then again, none of you had a chance and I’m simply playing with you now. The only one who is allowed to leave is the drite, but he seems determined to die with the rest of you. I never knew those creatures were so loyal.”
“We’re only trying to weaken you for when Nyx gets back,” Sari says in a strained voice. She is driven into the ground by a vicious stomp to her back. “I know she’s still alive. Dariana would have felt her die.”
“Only if she was paying attention,” the Ifrit points out while he stares at the molten lava below. He curses when a blast of water hits the back of his head. “Persistent little guppy. I’ll make sure to kill you.”
Another jet of icy water strikes his face, causing Sutter intense pain and temporarily blinding him. He hears the sound of someone moving to his right and throws a quick haymaker in that direction. Instead of missing or feeling Sari’s body crumple against his fist, the demon hits an open palm that stops his attack. The arm connected to the hand shudders enough to prevent the intruder from striking Sutter’s exposed side. His eyesight returning, the Ifrit stares at Timoran who is standing over Sari and still holding Dariana.
“Impressive,” Sutter hisses, letting his arm drop. He lunges to bite the warrior, but is knocked away by the barbarian using Dariana to hit him on the chin with her feet. “Now you’re just getting desperate.”
“You said you would not hold back and neither will we,” Timoran claims as his legs tremble. “As Sari said, we are only giving Nyx time to return. All of us know she is still alive. We do not have to be telepaths to sense that.”
“Part of her magic is in each of you. In that case, I want to get her attention. The question is which one of you three would make the perfect bait.”
Flames erupt around Sutter, which forces Timoran to back away. The barbarian draws his great axe in time to block a bolt of fire, but the impact jolts his weakened arm. The lesser demon has the advantage since his opponent is unable to use both hands without dropping Dariana, the silver-haired woman barely conscious. Flinging fireball after fireball at the warrior, the Ifrit drives him toward the outer edge of the volcano. The barbarian slips on the edge, which gives Sutter a chance to snare him with a rope of flames. A flick of the lesser demon’s wrist sends Timoran and Dariana flying across the volcano where they land and remain among their unconscious friends.
Sutter roars when Sari slaps him across the stomach with a hand of ice. She gets to her feet and hits him again, refusing to be used as bait for her friend. They each grow elemental armor with the Ifrit becoming burning stone and the gypsy covering herself in thick ice. Neither holds back and each crushing blow echoes for several miles. Chunks of flaming rock and melting water fly in every direction, exposing their bodies to the barrage. When Sutter manages to hit Sari in her defenseless side, she screams and collapses to the ground. Crying and writhing in agony, she presses her icy hands to her burning skin while the Ifrit tears off the remnants of her arm
or. He picks her up by the head and she screams at his painful touch.
The volcano rumbles and the lava rises to the edge of the mouth where it turns into a violent whirlpool. Sutter tosses Sari to the side when he sees Nyx emerge from the middle of the molten rock, an orange phoenix perched on her shoulder. The half-elf sends her new pet to the far side of the volcano where it creates a portal of violet fire that spits Sharne onto the ground next to Delvin. Cracking her blood-covered knuckles, Nyx walks across the lava with her hands out to collect the natural flames. With her eyes locked on Sutter, she steps onto solid ground and her feet burn the stone.
“Sorry about making you wait, but I needed to have a chat with my new guardian,” Nyx calmly says, holding out her arm for the phoenix. The bird licks at the fire in her palm, cooing in delight. “Let my friends go back into Helgard and I’ll give you the fight you want. No holding back for either of us.”
“I still think you’re dependence on fire makes you an inferior opponent, but I agree to your terms,” Sutter states with a stiff bow. There is a hungry glint in the lesser demon’s eyes as he licks his lips. “Though most of them are in no condition to move. In fact, I think this injured sea beast is the only still conscious.”
“Easily solved,” the half-elf replies while she walks past the Ifrit. Reaching down to her injured friend, Nyx helps Sari to her feet and delivers an energizing spell. “Get to a couch once you get everyone downstairs, little sister. You go too, little phoenix.”
The gypsy gives her a hug before racing along the volcano at an incredible speed. With enhanced strength and her injuries numbed, she lifts her friends and carries them downstairs one at a time. The phoenix watches from the edge of the volcano, following only when the gypsy has Fizzle in her arms. A thick layer of ice grows over the stairway entrance, releasing a faint column of vapor.
Sleeper Of The Wildwood Fugue (Book 7) Page 40
