Eve of Destruction

by C. E. Stalbaum

  And then, with a savage roar that shook the entire forest, Shaedra leapt to her feet and lunged towards Danev.

  He was quicker than he had any business being for a man of his size. Within an instant he’d dropped into a crouch and summoned a shimmering ball of blue fire into his palm. The sphere streaked out and smashed into the charging Vakari, but she didn’t even break stride. The wisps of magic dissipated almost instantly, and now she was halfway to him. Zach managed to swing up his pistol and fire several shots of his own, but those had even less effect.

  And then Shaedra was on top of Danev, flattening him to the ground and growling as she clutched at his throat. He screamed—the sharp, piercing cry from a man seconds away from death.

  Eve brought herself to her feet and extended her arm. Magic flashed at her fingertips, and a crackling beam of scintillating violet light lanced from her outstretched fingers and burned into Shaedra’s chest. Now it was the Vakari’s turn to scream. The blast hurled her from Danev’s body like a spectral finger flicking away an insect. Her body smashed through a willowy tree and split it cleanly in half before disappearing into the darkness.

  Eve released a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. She glanced down to Zach, but his eyes were madly scouring the forest…

  “Impossible…” Aram’s voice whispered into the air.

  Eve spun and tried to track the sound, but it seemed as if it was coming from everywhere at once. She crouched down on a knee, and Zach put an arm protectively in front of her.

  “The Avenshal,” the omnipresent voice breathed. “I should never have doubted it, not from that first moment in the Calio.”

  “Aram?” Danev coughed as he leaned upwards. His face seemed especially pale even in the moonlight. “What are you doing?”

  “My job. The Dark Messiah walks amongst us, and she must be stopped.”

  Danev took a deep breath and waved his hand. A faint gray mist sprayed across the forest, and the air itself seemed to ripple—and then suddenly Aram was standing there, not twenty meters from them, protected behind a glowing shield of Fane energy.

  “Is that all you’ve been doing the past two years?” Danev asked. “Staying close to me to try and steal my tricks?”

  “I was there to make sure you didn’t betray your own people,” Aram said. His cheek was quivering ever-so-slightly; the first pangs of the Flensing must have been gnawing at him.

  Danev frowned. “And it took you two years to figure out that I wasn’t working for Chaval? The Council doesn’t waste resources like that, especially not Eclipseans.”

  “You command considerable resources—or did, once. The Enclave could not afford to have you turn against them, to create a second Industrialist bastion in Vaschberg. They sent me to make sure it didn’t happen.”

  “No,” Danev murmured. “No, there are a dozen other ways they could have done that. They knew that Eve would eventually seek me out, didn’t they? Tara warned us about you in her journal—did she warn them too, years ago? Was she baiting them somehow?”

  “They never told me if she did,” Aram said. “Either way, it doesn’t matter. I’m here now, and I have an opportunity to end this—to end her.”

  “By turning Shaedra against us? That’s a fancy trick.”

  “I had no intention of harming you, Gregori,” Aram told him almost defensively. “I needed to deal with two problems at once—the abomination, and now the Avenshal.” He turned to Eve, and at the same moment Zach lifted his pistol towards him.

  “Another step and you die,” Zach warned.

  The Eclipsean cocked a curious eyebrow. “I understand your loyalty, as misguided as it is. You’re young and foolish, and you think protecting her will win her heart or some rubbish.” He swiveled his gaze to Danev. “But you—I would have expected more from you, Gregori. You understand the threat she poses. You’ve seen it clearly for yourself twice now. She killed those men on the train, and now she harmed a Vakari. No krata could possibly do that. Why do you protect her?”

  “She deserves a chance,” Danev said. “She deserves answers and honesty, neither of which your masters are particularly fond of.”

  “Answers? You have all the answers you need! Look around you, for Edeh’s sake. She is an abomination against the Goddess! She will destroy us all!”

  “Maybe,” the illusionist whispered, “but that’s not for your masters to decide. You can’t kill her for something she may or may not even do. The Enclave is more than willing to pass judgment on others, but for some reason they never find time to judge themselves. Who do you think drove Chaval to where he is today? Who do you think created the poverty and waste that has caused so many to flock to his banner?”

  “This has nothing to do with Chaval or the Dusties,” Aram growled.

  Danev glanced to Eve, then back to Aram. “It has everything to do with them. It has to do with the Enclave and their inability to accept their mistakes. They created the Vakari, and instead of helping them find some sort of peace, they forged them into weapons—into killers. They created Chaval, and instead of realizing the potential of his technology, they condemned all of it along with him.” He took a step forward and picked up his cane. “They ignored Tara, they refused to see her potential and her power…and yet now they’re willing to sentence her only child to death based upon one of her visions.”

  “This is about the future of the Fane—the future of the world,” Aram said, his body nearly shaking. It was more emotion that Eve had ever seen from him—more than she ever thought possible. “This girl will destroy us if we don’t stop her. You believed in Tara’s power, so do something about it!”

  “I do believe in her power,” Danev murmured. “I believe the Goddess granted it to her to change things for the better. And that’s exactly what I intend to do.”

  Aram shook his head. “Then you are a fool. And for that, you will die along with her.”

  The explosion of magic was so fast, so intense, that Eve barely had time to blink before the entire world exploded in light. An invisible shockwave hurled her backwards and she tumbled across the grass, wincing as rocks and broken branches cut through the back of her dress. She shielded her eyes and glanced up to see Aram and Danev still twenty meters apart, glowing like twin stars set against the night sky. They exchanged volley after volley of magic, from brilliant bolts of light to scintillating spheres of orange-white flame, but every assault deflected harmlessly off their protective shells and dissipated a moment later.

  Eve had long wondered what a battle between two archmagi would look like. Fictional tales of battles between stalwart Enclave magisters and desperate Defilers had always seemed too grandiose, too exaggerated, to be real. Their battles would rage for hours and scorch the landscape black around them, and only through a superhuman feat of endurance would one of them ultimately prevail. It wasn’t unlike the swashbuckling tales Zach had always enjoyed as a kid, where a duel between fencers would last for pages and pages before someone finally struck the killing blow.

  She had always assumed that in the real world, a duel between powerful magi would be just like an actual fencing duel—a few thrusts and parries at best, quickly followed by a killing blow. No drama, no witty repartees, just a quick and dirty exchange of steel and blood.

  Apparently, she had been wrong. It was almost mesmerizing to watch these two men command such awesome power, and she could appreciate more than ever why the torbos feared them so much. These men weren’t even Defiling, and yet they exchanged spells that could have razed an entire village.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw Zach scouring the grass trying to find his fallen pistol, and it shook her from her reverie. She had no idea what she could do, but she needed to try something. Sooner or later the Flensing was going to cripple both men, and judging by the strained looked on Danev’s face, it was probably going to be him.

  Eve pulled herself to her feet, and just as she did so Aram spun to face her. He extended a hand towards her, and another
searing flash of light nearly blinded her as a crackling torrent of electricity erupted from his palm. She instinctively brought her hands up in front of her, fully expecting to keel over in pain…

  “Stay down!” Danev called, and a whip-like cord of energy lashed out from his arm and intercepted Aram’s spell. A wave of heat washed over Eve’s skin, and she dropped to a knee and tried to squint past the brilliance.

  Next to her, Zach had found his gun. He took aim quickly and fired—but suddenly Aram was no longer there. He had vanished completely, and Zach took a deep breath as he madly swept his eyes around to track the Eclipsean—

  And then Aram was on top of them. He appeared out of the shadows, his body still glowing with magical energy, and with a hard, clean sweep of his leg, he sent Zach flipping over backwards. Eve’s gasped as Aram turned to face her, now only a heartbeat away, his eyes flashing angrily as he summoned a spell to finish her once and for all.

  The Fane exploded to life around her. A spell formed in her mind and erupted from her fingertips. It wasn’t anything so dramatic as what she’d done on the train. There was no fire, no clouds of ash—only a quick flash of light that sent Aram stumbling backwards. He glanced down at himself in disbelief as his armor of spells vanished. He was no longer glowing like an all-powerful mage—he was simply one man standing alone in the darkness.

  Eve saw the fear in his eyes, but just as quickly she saw the fanaticism crush it back down. He believed she was the Avenshal; he believed that she had to die. And so he roared like a wild animal as he threw himself on top of her—

  And another dark shape collided with him and pinned him to the ground. Aram screeched in protest, but it was too late. Eve caught a single glimpse of an auburn mane glistening in the moonlight, and then nearly wretched at the sickening crunch that followed only seconds later. She turned away and dropped to a knee.

  Zach took a staggered breath as he pulled himself up next to her, his gun pointed straight at the Vakari. His hand quivered so much she thought he might drop the weapon, and for a long, aching moment, nothing happened.

  Finally Danev made his way over to them, leaning more on his cane than usual. He was almost panting, and he clutched at his arm as if it were on fire. His eyes were bloodshot, and the veins on his neck looked like they might rupture at any moment.

  “We can’t stay here,” he rasped. “More will come, and soon.”

  “What about her?” Zach asked.

  Shaedra’s eyes rolled back in her head as she sat straddling the corpse, and Eve couldn’t immediately tell if the other woman was being wracked by pain or pleasure. Eventually she seemed to return to her senses and tilted her head back towards them.

  “We go to Cadotheia,” she said softly. “And we wait for Maltus.”

  Zach grunted. “And why should we trust you? You tried to kill us.”

  “I am…sated, for the time being. Eve undid the spell he placed upon me.”

  Danev raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you know he could do that? I figured you’d be keen on all the Enclave tricks.”

  “The magisters don’t tend to share that type of power with just anyone, and certainly not a mere Eclipsean,” Shaedra replied. “Apparently he was special.”

  Eve slowly brought herself to her feet. Her limbs had started to ache now, too. Perhaps they had been this entire time, but she’d been able to block it out. But Flensing or not, Danev was right. They couldn’t stay here.

  “We should get moving,” Eve said softly.

  Zach raised an eyebrow at her. “Just like that? Don’t you want to finish her off?”

  She glanced to the Vakari. “She just saved my life.”

  “You saved your own life,” Shaedra said, standing. Most of her clothing had been burned away, and she reached down to pull off Aram’s vest. “I just hope now you’re willing to listen to me.”

  Eve swallowed heavily. Maybe the other woman had been right all along. Maybe she did need to learn to control this.

  “Perhaps I am,” she whispered.

  “What?” Zach stammered.

  “We can debate this later,” Danev interrupted. “We should get what we need from camp and head out. The Enclave might have more assassins nearby.”

  Zach stared at Eve, his blue eyes wide, then finally sighed in resignation.

  “Fine,” he muttered, glaring at Shaedra one last time. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “That’s the best I can do for now,” Jack Polard said as he finished weaving the last of his healing spells. “You’ll be sore for the next week, but I don’t think there’s any permanent damage. You were lucky.”

  Amaya grunted and leaned upwards. Her shoulder still ached, but that was a step up from throbbing like it had just been smashed by a hammer. In the end, her pride had suffered the biggest blow. Requiring the healing skills of a mage was bad enough, but having to rely on this weasel just made her skin crawl.

  Still, she probably should have considered herself fortunate that Polard wasn’t so petty as to try and harm her after how badly she’d humiliated him a few days ago. She mostly attributed that to a healthy fear of his employer rather than any sense of good will, though.

  “Good work, Jack,” Chaval told him with a smile, his hands clasped behind his back. “I’m glad to see your skills are as sharp as ever.”

  “Your men give me plenty of practice these days,” Polard murmured.

  “Leave us alone for a moment, if you don’t mind.”

  Polard glanced once to Amaya before curling his lip and shuffling out of the room. She glared at him all the way until the door closed shut behind him.

  “It’s never wise to anger your doctor,” Chaval said, a touch of amusement in his voice.

  Amaya grunted and hopped off the table. They were in the out-of-the-way makeshift infirmary Polard used to mend the crippled workers the factories so regularly dumped on him. It wasn’t much to look at, but the unassuming décor was intentional. Chaval didn’t want the public at-large to know about all the accidents, and he similarly felt it best if the wounded themselves couldn’t distinguish exactly where it was they’d been treated. It was just another thread in the grand illusionary tapestry that bound the Industrialists together.

  “You look pleased, so I assume you received good news from the men on the train,” she said, stretching both her arms experimentally. She probably had two-thirds of her movement back already, which was all the more impressive considering a mere hour ago she’d had somewhere around zero. Polard was good at what he did, she would give him that.

  “Yes and no,” Chaval said. “The mercenaries we hired are all dead or sitting in prison cells.”

  “You sound traumatized.”

  He smiled faintly. “They served their purpose. The heist made the evening paper yesterday, and today the local media has been abuzz with speculation. Plenty of witnesses saw our magi friends nearly destroy the train.”

  “I assume the reports have conveniently left out the fact that it was in self-defense?”

  “Details are such fickle things,” he said flippantly. “The official story is that during an attempted heist, a group of concealed magi nearly destroyed the train and indiscriminately killed its passengers. The local constable has put out a warrant for their arrest.”

  She pursed her lips and wondered idly if the warlords back in Talam had ever had as much control over the spread of information as Chaval did here. Probably, she guessed, but she’d been too young and naïve to notice it. Now, after serving under Chaval for only a few months, she had an entirely new perspective on the nature of power…

  “So DeShane did escape?” she asked. “What about the others?”

  “All of them survived, as far as we know. Reports are mixed, but most of them suggest they were wounded. Either way, it’s largely immaterial. They’ll make their way back here soon enough.”

  “You really think they’ll just turn around and hike back? I would think they’d bury themselves somewhere in the
wilderness.”

  He shook his head. “To what end? They’ll have to surface eventually, and Danev will know that my eyes will be watching the roads and major settlements. Vaschberg is too far a hike on foot, and he’ll have trouble reaching any of his people to call for help.”

  “I just find it hard to believe that they would walk right back into your hands.”

  “They don’t have a choice,” he said. “After DeShane’s rather public performance, word of what happened will reach the Enclave soon if it hasn’t already. They know all about the prophecy, just as we do. They won’t wait to get involved.”

  “So Danev might figure they’ll be safer here,” she reasoned.

  “Exactly. They are trapped between me and the Enclave, and knowing Gregori and his distaste for the latter, he’ll choose the evil he thinks he can reason with.”

  “All right, so what do we do?”

  “Right now we don’t have to do anything,” Chaval told her. “They will come to us, and while they travel, young Evelyn’s mind is no doubt trying to cope with what she has done. She has tasted power, and perhaps even more importantly, she has taken lives. Nothing quite changes someone as much as when they kill for the first time.”

  Amaya nodded in silent understanding. She occasionally still had nightmares about her first kill, though admittedly less and less as the years went by. She had only been fourteen at the time, and the clan elders had sent her on a “training” mission into a rival village. She had shown up in tattered rags claiming to be separated from her parents, and her eventual mark had been an old widower who had lost his own children to famine. He had kindly taken her in with the unique and special warmth of another wounded soul, and she had betrayed him. At times she could still feel her knife sliding through his flesh and his choked off whispers as he gasped for breath…