The Cerulean Storm

by Denning, Troy

  Sadira descended toward the crater and saw that the lake of bubbling black goo had evaporated from the basin, leaving the interior as smooth as a glass bowl. In places, the sheen rose almost as high as the rim, reflecting the rays of the blue sun back into the center of the valley. There, the azure beams gathered in an ethereal ball that the sorceress found as disconcerting as the new color of the heavens. As beautiful as they were, blue skies and blue suns had no place above the deserts of Athas. They harkened back to a gentler age, an age that could only be restored by killing most of what now lived on the dusty planet. As much as Sadira longed for a better world, she would not pay the price that Rajaat demanded. She had to stop him.

  As the sorceress circled the basin, cold fingers of apprehension spread through her chest, for she saw no sign of Neeva’s hiding place. The rocks where Rikus had concealed the warrior were gone, fused into the lustrous veneer of the cauldron. Sadira tried to stay calm by reminding herself of Rkard’s strength. The boy was more than strong enough to carry his mother to safety—assuming that whatever had scoured the crater clean had allowed him the chance.

  With an increasingly heavy heart, Sadira crossed to the outside slope of the rim and continued her search. She did not call out. A gentle breeze was blowing toward the city, and it would not do to have it carry her voice across the plain. She could already see that Rajaat’s towering form had left Ur Draxa and was coming toward her, and the last thing she wanted was for him to hear her calling for Rkard and Neeva.

  Sadira landed on the north side of the crater, where a high section in the opposite rim would shelter her from Rajaat’s view. She climbed up to a notch in the crest and deposited the Dark Lens in the nook. She filled the gaps around the orb with dirt and rocks, her magic-enhanced strength making quick work of the task. The sorceress was not trying to hide the Lens so much as prop it up and camouflage it well enough to keep it from being seen at first glance.

  After pausing to look around the area one last time, Sadira climbed up to the rim’s crest. She slowly circled back toward Ur Draxa, scanning the exterior slope of the crater and forcing herself to resist the temptation to call the young mul’s name.

  The sorceress did not know what she would do if the boy had left or had died. She was counting on his spell to do what she could not: exterminate Rajaat. Sadira’s powers, based as they were on the ancient sorcerer’s own magic, would be of little use in the coming battle. But Rkard’s powers were the opposite of Rajaat’s. They were based in the element of fire, while the ancient sorcerer was closely allied with the element of water. If anything could destroy Rajaat, it would be Rkard’s magic.

  The sorceress stepped around a jagged crag, and the ramparts of Ur Draxa came into sight, glowing scarlet and emerald with the brilliant hues of living rockstem. Rajaat had already crossed most of the plain. As he came forward, forks of lightning shot down from his crown to strike at the ground, and torrents of rain poured from his hands. Thunder rumbled from his mouth, and dark, seething plumes of vapor shot from his nostrils. On his heels came a frothing wall of water, rolling across the broken ground and rapidly flooding the whole plain.

  Sadira ducked back behind the crag to prepare for the coming battle.

  “Where’s Rikus?” whispered a familiar voice.

  Sadira bit her tongue to keep from yelling and spun around. Rkard stood a few steps away, crouching behind a small boulder. The sorceress went to his side.

  “I was afraid—I thought you had left,” she whispered, hugging him tight. “Is your mother safe?”

  The boy nodded. “The black stuff started to boil, and we had to move. She sent me up to get you,” he said. “Where’s Rikus?”

  “We’ll look for him later,” Sadira said, standing. “Right now, I need your help.”

  Tears welled in Rkard’s eyes. “Rikus isn’t coming back, is he?” he asked. “He’s dead, just like my father!”

  Sadira kneeled in front of the boy. “We don’t know that, Rkard!” she snapped, grasping his shoulders tightly. “But we have to worry about ourselves and your mother now. Rajaat’s coming, and I need your help to stop him.”

  Rkard looked away and bit his lip, gathering himself together. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Nothing you haven’t done many times before.”

  Sadira guided him toward the Dark Lens, explaining her plan as they walked. When she finished, she made the young mul repeat it twice. The sorceress did not think Rkard would have trouble understanding what she required, for the task was simple, and he was a smart boy. She just wanted to make sure he knew that the plan would work even if she were killed.

  After helping Rkard find a good hiding place, Sadira climbed a quarter of the way around the crater. When she came to a place where the outside slope fell away in a sheer drop, she stopped. This would be a good place to wait. She could jump behind the crater rim to shelter herself from Rajaat’s magic, while her ebon-skinned body would not be harmed by the plunge to the sharp rocks below.

  Rajaat’s flashing crown appeared above the opposite rim, filling the cauldron with echoes of crackling lightning. The entire basin shook with the power of his thunderous bellows. The ancient sorcerer started to climb, and frothing floodwaters began to whirl around the base of the crater.

  Sadira turned a palm toward the ground, summoning the power to cast a normal spell. As the energy flowed into her body, she pulled a stick of incense from her pocket and watched Rajaat’s head appear above the far crest. His vaporish skin hung from his face in billowing folds, with dark creases that gave him a fierce and sinister appearance. From the size of his eyes and the diameter of his crown, she guessed the ancient sorcerer was about the size of a giant.

  Sadira waited until Rajaat had stepped onto the crest of the ridge, then she pointed the incense at him and uttered her incantation. The end of the stick flared and started to burn. As the smoke rose into the air, plumes of steam began to trail off the ancient sorcerer’s misty flesh. Long gashes and round holes quickly opened, exposing the yellowed bones beneath.

  Rajaat waved a wispy claw over his body and muttered a counterspell. The incense in Sadira’s hand went out, and the steam stopped rising from the wounds on his body. The ancient sorcerer stepped into the crater. When his feet slipped on the slick sides, he spread his arms and floated down the steep slope like fog. He never took his eyes off Sadira.

  “I created sorcery,” Rajaat hissed, stepping across the basin. “How can you think your pitiful skills a match for mine?”

  Rajaat pointed a curved talon at her head. Sadira spun away, confident her plan would work as she intended. Another step forward would bring her foe into perfect position for Rkard’s spell.

  A string of mystic syllables rumbled from Rajaat’s mouth. The throbbing roar of a mighty whirlwind howled over the basin, and a spout of dark clouds shot from the ancient sorcerer’s finger. It streaked toward Sadira, hurling lightning and pounding columns of water at her side of the crater.

  The sorceress jumped off the cliff. The spinning winds hit behind her, ripping the rim into an explosion of broken rock. The storm caught Sadira before she hit the ground and lifted her into a swirling tempest of boulders and water. Lightning bolts stabbed at her from every direction. When they struck, they did not die away but crackled over her body in an endless loop. She was quickly enclosed in a sizzling cage of energy, which flashed twice around the whirlwind and disappeared into the dark clouds. The cyclone sped out across the flooded plain.

  A quarter of the way around the crater, Rkard peered over the Dark Lens and watched the storm disappear. His breath came in gasps, and his heart was pounding so hard his chest hurt, but he forced himself to stay calm and concentrate on what he had to do.

  Rkard turned his gaze into the crater, where Rajaat’s cloud-wrapped figure stood in the middle of the basin. The ancient sorcerer’s shadow lay against the western rim, looking distinctly insignificant. Resisting the temptation to attack—and not at all certain he was doing the r
ight thing—the young mul waited. He did not take his eyes off his target for even an instant and hardly dared to blink.

  Sadira had said that Rajaat would chase her and that Rkard should not cast his spell until the ancient sorcerer’s silhouette fell across the bottom of the crater. It was the shadow they wanted to destroy, not the cloud body.

  Rajaat did not go after Sadira. Instead, he remained in the crater, pulling blue clouds out of the sky and using them to patch his wounds. Rkard watched with an open mouth, more in wonder than fear.

  The ancient sorcerer continued to heal himself for several moments, stopping only when he had covered all the holes on his body. Rkard braced himself for the attack, ready to call on the sun’s power as soon as his foe moved to follow Sadira. Rajaat did not cooperate. Not even glancing toward the distant cyclone, the sorcerer ran his gaze over the interior of the crater, searching for the Dark Lens.

  Rkard touched his hand to the sun-mark on his forehead, not trusting the strange blue orb in the sky to supply the magic he needed. He considered casting his spell at that moment, before his enemy’s glowing eyes could fall on the Lens. Then he remembered what Sadira had told him about how the sorcerer-kings had imprisoned the cloud, only to be attacked by the shadow a few moments later.

  “Rajaat isn’t like us. He doesn’t give form to his shadow,” she had said. “It shapes him.”

  Rkard studied his foe’s shadow more carefully. From the other side of the Dark Lens, he could angle his spell to strike the silhouette where it lay now. Hoping this small change wouldn’t ruin Sadira’s plan but seeing no other way to do as she had instructed, he crawled across the hot surface of the Lens to the other side. He would have gone around the bottom of the orb, but it was so big that he would not have been able to see Rajaat—and no matter what happened, he was determined not to take his eyes off his prey.

  Rajaat locked his eyes onto Rkard’s face and stepped toward him. Although the boy could still see most of Rajaat’s shadow, one flank and part of a leg were hidden behind the sorcerer’s body.

  “Give me my Lens, filthy child,” Rajaat growled. He gestured at the Dark Lens with a clawed finger.

  The young mul pressed his palm to the warm obsidian and cast his sun-spell. Rajaat’s eyes flared white, though the boy could not say whether it was with alarm or anger, then a ruby light flared deep inside the orb.

  Rkard did not expect what happened next. The Lens flashed scarlet, then searing red flames spread over the surface. The boy cried out in alarm and backed away as the Dark Lens erupted into a miniature version of the crimson sun.

  Neeva heard a booming voice from inside the crater. “I created sorcery,” it said. “How can you think your pitiful skills a match for mine?”

  The warrior looked up. From her hiding place on the uphill side of a boulder, she could see both Sadira and her son. The sorceress stood on top of a small cliff, about a quarter of the way around the crater rim from where Rkard hid with the Dark Lens. Neeva could not see the speaker, though she felt certain from what she had heard that it was Rajaat.

  A string of mystic syllables rumbled from inside the crater, then Neeva heard the throbbing roar of a whirlwind. Sadira jumped off the cliff. Her feet had barely left the rim before a dark cyclone ripped it apart. A ball of lightning formed around the sorceress as the spinning winds swallowed her up, then the storm raced away over the flooded plain.

  “No!” Neeva gasped.

  The warrior pushed herself up, bracing her back against the boulder. The effort of standing made her cold legs ache to the bone, while the small of her back felt like someone had plunged a burning dagger into it. Still, Neeva was thankful that she could stand at all. When her son had cast his healing spell on her at sunrise, it had taken a long time for the feeling to return below her waist, and she had begun to fear that her injuries were too serious for him to repair.

  Leaning against the boulder, Neeva turned to watch the cyclone, hoping to see what became of Sadira. Instead, she saw a gaunt and bedraggled figure pulling himself from the floodwaters. Even from twenty paces away, she could see that he had a hooked nose and a long braid of gray hair.

  “Tithian!” she hissed.

  The king looked up the hill toward Rkard, whose attention was raptly fixed on the crater basin. Not even pausing to gather his breath, Tithian rose and started up the slope on trembling legs.

  Neeva grabbed a fist-sized rock and, gritting her teeth against the pain, took her first step across the slippery hillside. Rkard had told her that it was risky for her to walk, but with Tithian on the loose, she knew it was more dangerous not to. The warrior managed half a dozen steps before the king glimpsed her and stopped.

  Tithian faced her and sneered, turning his palm toward the ground. “I thought you’d be dead by now.”

  Neeva braced her feet and threw the rock in her hand, aiming for the throat. Tithian ducked, and the stone struck him in the temple with a sharp crack. The king dropped to the ground. Though it was possible the blow had killed her target outright, the warrior knew better than to count on that. She hobbled over to her prey and found his eyes rolled back in the sockets. She grabbed a large stone and raised it over his head, taking no chances with the treacherous king.

  Tithian’s hand suddenly shot up, directing a brilliant flash into the warrior’s eyes. Neeva’s vision instantly went white. She slammed the stone down and heard it clatter harmlessly off the ground. The warrior went into a blind-fighting pattern. She pivoted away from the last place she had seen the king and circled her hands in front of her body, frequently changing directions to prevent her enemy from predicting where the gaps would appear.

  A cruel chuckle sounded at Neeva’s side. Sweeping her arm around in a circular trapping motion, she stepped toward the sound—then stumbled and nearly fell when her lethargic legs did not respond as she expected. The warrior felt Tithian’s hot breath on the back of her neck and realized that he had used a spell to throw his voice.

  Expecting to feel the bite of a dagger blade in her kidneys at any moment, the warrior arched her stomach forward and swung her head back. She heard a loud crack as her skull smashed the king’s nose, then she felt his arm drape across her shoulder. He had been trying to cut her throat. Neeva drove her hand up inside Tithian’s arm and forced his wrist away from her neck. She bent forward, pulling him over her back, and heard him land in a heap in front of her.

  Neeva tried to raise her foot to stomp the king’s head but succeeded only in sending a fiery pang of agony shooting through her leg. Tithian clattered across the rocky ground, rolling or crawling away, and the warrior lost track of his exact location. Gray spots were beginning to appear in the white glare of her vision, but she still could not see. The king stopped moving and fell silent. Neeva felt sure that he was preparing a spell, but she had no idea of how to avoid it.

  She heard something rising out of the water, then Rikus’s voice shouted, “Dive roll, quarter right!”

  The command called for a maneuver they had used during their days in the arena together, and Neeva knew exactly what it meant. She threw herself forward at an angle, crashing into Tithian’s soft midsection before she hit the ground. The king cried out in surprise. She heard the hiss of mystic energy discharging into the air, then she came down on top of his body.

  The air left Tithian’s lungs in a sharp grunt, but he did not stop fighting. Neeva felt him pull both arms out from beneath her body. She raised her arm to block the right one, assuming it held the dagger.

  “No, left!” Rikus called. By the sound of his voice, he was almost upon them.

  Neeva could not switch blocks, so she rolled toward the king’s left arm and pinned it beneath her weight. She brought her hand down and found his wrist, then gave it a sharp twist and heard the hollow pop of a bone coming out of its socket. Tithian cried out in pain, then smashed his right hand into his attacker’s back and shoved her off.

  Neeva heard him scrambling away, then found the dagger on the ground where h
e had dropped it. Her vision was now growing clear enough that she could make it out as a gray blur lying on the black smudge of the ground.

  Tithian began to run up the hill toward Rkard, as Neeva could tell by the sound of the rocks clattering beneath his feet. At the same time, she heard Rikus’s heavy steps charging up from her other side. Neeva took the dagger by the blade.

  “Knife, Rikus!”

  Neeva flipped the dagger into the air, angling her throw so it flew toward Rikus hilt-first. An instant later, the weapon came hissing back above her head. Tithian screamed, but she did not hear him fall.

  “Damn!” Rikus snapped, stopping at her side.

  Neeva felt the mul take her arm and pull her up. Terrible pains shot through her legs as her weight returned to them, but they did not collapse beneath her. She also discovered that she had recovered her vision well enough to see the mul’s face. He looked as haggard and weary as had Tithian, with beads of water running off his body and dark circles beneath his eyes.

  “I’ve been trying to catch Tithian since Rajaat flooded Ur Draxa, and now he’s disappeared again,” Rikus said.

  Neeva pointed toward the Dark Lens. “I doubt it,” she said. “He was trying for the Lens when I attacked him.”

  The mul’s face went white, then he started up the hill at a sprint. Neeva followed more slowly. Each step was a struggle, but she was determined not to wait idly by while Tithian took the Lens.

  A few steps up the slope, she confirmed her suspicions. A trail of blood led toward the Dark Lens. Neeva looked up, preparing to call a warning.

  She did not have the chance. Her son had crawled over the Lens to the other side and was staring into the basin, his attention consumed by Rajaat. The ancient sorcerer’s crown of lightning showed above the top of the Lens, but that was all Neeva could see of him.