by C. L. Wilson
Den bent down to grab Ellie, then hesitated when she moaned and her eyelids fluttered. “She’s waking up.”
“She’s got enough sel’dor in her now to be no trouble to us. Pick her up. I’ll open the portal.” Nivane yanked the long, wavy-edged Mage blade from Father Bellamy’s back and dragged the exorcist’s crumpled form to the far side of the room.
He gave a short laugh and glanced back at Den. “The Guardians are so used to pocket-sized bits of flesh, Bellamy will be quite a banquet for them.” He jabbed the Mage blade deep into the dead man’s chest. The large, dark crystal in the pommel of the knife flickered with ominous red lights.
Nivane backed several paces away from the body, and Lauriana heard him murmur something in a foreign tongue. The dead priest’s body began to smolder. A small black pinprick formed in the air above. Dark shadows swept out of the small opening, hissing and circling around the body.
Ellysetta cried out at the sudden familiar sensation of ice spiders crawling over her flesh. The feeling was much stronger than ever before.
“You see?” the Mage whispered. “You can feel it, can’t you? The darkness in your soul. The great gift I gave you when you were still a child in your mother’s womb. Open yourself to it, girl. Embrace it.”
«Do not heed him.» A strong voice, familiar yet not, penetrated her consciousness. A man’s voice. «Don’t grant him access to your soul. He uses your fears to hold you here when those you love most need you. Look at the truth he hides from you.»
Faint light penetrated the shadows enveloping her. The Solarus stretched out below her, as if she were perched above the chamber looking down through a tinted glass.
“You!” the Shadow Mage hissed. “You will regret your interference.”
Ellysetta cried out at the sight of Selianne holding Mama at knifepoint. Greatfather Tivrest lay sprawled on the marble floor, a knife protruding from his back. Den was hefting Ellysetta’s own limp body over his shoulder.
And Father Bellamy…
The exorcist was obviously dead, his mouth open in a soundless scream. Above him, a dark shadow widened like a gaping maw.
In the swirling shadows, Ellysetta caught frightening glimpses of wild eyes, gnashing teeth, and wide, bloody mouths. She watched in horror as the priest’s body was torn to shreds before her eyes. Flesh peeled back from bones. Blood sprayed up in unnatural red fountains. Bones splintered and turned to swirling white powder. Clicking, hissing, slurping, the demons consumed every last scrap of Father Bellamy’s body and soul. In seconds, all that remained was a shredded red silk tunic, sucked dry even of bloodstains.
Above the remains, the dark hole widened rapidly and formed what appeared to be a doorway leading into utter blackness. The demons pulled back to frame the doorway, hissing, their formless shapes undulating like deadly shadow snakes.
The second exorcist, Nivane, motioned, and after a brief hesitation, Den walked towards the drowning blackness of the portal. Weeping, Mama stumbled towards it as well, prodded forward by the knife in Selianne’s hand.
Ellysetta heard what sounded like a muffled groan, and a sudden sharp pain in her chest made her cry out.
“Listen to me, girl.” The High Mage’s voice was back, but where there had been crooning seduction, now there was cold command. “Everyone you love has betrayed you. No one is coming to help. They’ve all abandoned and reviled you. You are alone. Your struggles only postpone the inevitable. You cannot hope to stand against me.”
The oppressive weight of his will pressed hard against her own, urging her to give up and let the inevitable happen. She wavered on the knife’s edge of surrender; despair washed over her in steady, unrelenting waves. She was no warrior, the despair whispered. She had neither the skills nor the strength to defeat him.
«No, child,» a second voice urged. This time, it was a woman’s voice, throbbing with encouragement. «Do not heed him. The ones you love are near. Your mate is with them. They fight for you. You must not surrender. If you let the Evil One claim you, your mate will die, and without him, nothing can prevent the Evil One from destroying your soul. Fight him, child. For your mate. For your soul. Fight him for all the lives he has destroyed.»
«Ellysetta! Shei’tani!» Rain’s call flared across her senses, a bright, warm light blooming in the icy darkness.
The pain of the exorcism and betrayal had driven her here, to this shadowy realm. The High Mage had kept her distracted, filling her mind with doubts, playing on her fears. But now, revitalizing energy filled her, a wellspring of renewed hope.
Rain. He’d come back.
“Do not listen to those foolish creatures!” the Mage cried. “You cannot stop what is happening. Do not fight it. Let yourself go.”
“No!” she shouted defiantly. The shadow world fell away in a dizzying rush. Her senses flooded back to her, nerves howling, sel’dor burning like live coals embedded in her flesh.
She woke screaming.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Shrouded by the long, wild mass of her hair hanging in her face and blinded by pain, Ellysetta struggled to find her bearings. Den had slung her over one beefy shoulder, with no regard for the way his every motion drove the sel’dor needles deeper into her flesh, scraping metal against bone. Eight searing needles, each one topped by a voracious, evil crystal, fought to consume her blood and soul.
She hung on to consciousness by will alone. If she let them take her into the Well, she—the person who was Ellysetta—would never return.
«Ellysetta! Shei’tani!» Rain’s call pierced the fractured shields surrounding the Solarus, and she almost wept with relief. Never had a sound been so welcome.
“We’re out of time. Get her into the Well, now!” Nivane cried.
Den sped up, rounding the corner of the altar table. Ellysetta’s hair dragged across one of the velvet-topped marble benches. And there, still open, its evil implements winking in the bright light of the Solarus, sat the exorcist’s leather case.
Her hand shot out. Her fingertips snagged the corner of the case lid, and she yanked it towards her. Half a dozen needles spilled to the floor, but she managed to snatch up a handful of the torturous implements before she lost her grip on the case.
With every ounce of strength she possessed, she drove the razor-sharp points into the back of Den’s leg.
The butcher’s son howled and dropped to his knees, spilling Ellysetta onto the floor. She landed hard. Her head cracked against the marble floor with enough force to leave her dizzy.
“Scorching thrice-damned slut!”
Ellysetta forced her eyes open. Den Brodson was sprawled on the floor nearby, his torso twisted around as he tried to pull a handful of needles out of his leg.
“Don’t pull those out, you fool.” The pale-haired exorcist snapped the order. “You can’t enter the Well bloody. You’ll drive the demons into a frenzy. Sel’dor wounds don’t bleed as long as the metal stays in the flesh.” Muttering a curse, Nivane started towards Ellysetta. “I’ll get the girl,” he barked. “Selianne, get the mother into the Well.”
Mama. Ellysetta caught a glimpse of her mother’s tear-stained face and the knife at her ribs. Ellysetta yanked the gag out of her mouth. “Selianne, no!” She scrambled back as Nivane approached. “Don’t listen to them! Fight them! Don’t let them use you for evil!”
“Don’t waste your breath,” Nivane sneered. “She traded her soul to the High Mage’s apprentice, and through him to the High Mage himself. And now, my dear, it’s time for you to renew your own acquaintance with the great Master Maur.”
Her fingers ripped at the sel’dor needles at her hips and thighs. The needles fought extraction, causing excruciating pain as she pulled them free. One…two…by the third, she was screaming. She flung the needles away and reached for another.
“Foolish girl. Do you really think that will help you?”
“You can’t take me into the Well bloody, can you?” she countered raggedly. “And without sel’dor, my wounds will bl
eed.”
Nivane reached for her leg. She kicked out, but he grabbed her ankle and yanked her towards him. “True. But that just means I get the pleasure of piercing you myself.”
She kicked again, catching Nivane’s jaw with the edge of her foot. His head snapped back, and blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth.
“Petchka!” His fist shot out. Pain exploded across the left side of her face, and the force of the blow sent her skidding backwards across the slick marble floor and halfway under the altar table. Her hands tangled in the bloody folds of Greatfather Tivrest’s robes, and her fingers brushed against something hard and cold.
The scepter.
Tivrest’s crystal-topped scepter, which he’d used to generate the five-fold weave around the chamber.
She was a long way from understanding the intricacies of magic, but she’d spent a lifetime reading Fey tales and Fey poetry. Crystals were objects of power. If Rain could close a demon portal by smashing the crystal that summoned it, it only stood to reason that smashing the scepter’s crystal would destroy the five-fold weave it had created.
She tried to grab the scepter, but Nivane pulled her out from under the altar before she could get a good grip. She screamed as he plunged an exorcist’s needle back into the bleeding wound at her hip.
«Mama!» Her body arched in torment as sel’dor punished her use of Spirit. «The archbishop’s scepter! Smash it! Hurry!»
“Brodson, you sniveling porgil,” Nivane snapped, “grab those needles and get over here. Help me plug her wounds.”
From the corner of her eye, Ellysetta saw her mother break free of Selianne’s grip and lunge towards the archbishop’s body. Lauriana grabbed the scepter and lifted it high.
As she brought it smashing down towards the unforgiving marble of the altar, Selianne snatched the scepter from her grasp and gave a brutal shove that sent Lauriana sprawling. Her head cracked hard against the edge of the altar table, and her body crumpled to the floor, where she lay motionless.
“Mama!” Ellysetta tried to crawl to her aid, but Nivane still held her ankle and Den was limping towards them, gathering the needles she’d pulled out of her body as he approached.
A cold smile curved Selianne’s lips. “A worthy effort,” she said, but the voice that issued from her lips was not her own. “What strength you possess, to weave such powerful Spirit despite the amount of sel’dor in your flesh. I daresay twenty rings will not be enough to hold you. My master has done well indeed.”
A loud thud boomed through the Solarus as something rammed hard against the door. The door shuddered and began to give way. Selianne—or rather, the creature controlling Selianne—cast a backwards glance.
“Nivane, Brodson, have done with your fumbling. Bind her remaining wounds tight. Even with the scepter’s weave intact, it won’t be long before the Fey break through. I am coming to you now. Bring the girl to me in the Well!”
Ellysetta glimpsed what looked like glittering stars moving in the darkness of the Well of Souls. As the lights drew closer, she realized the stars were actually reflections off the collection of jewels fastened to the sash of an Elden Mage. He was approaching the Solarus.
There was no time left. She turned back to Selianne. The awful, mocking black eyes stared back at her from her friend’s face.
Ellysetta’s teeth clenched, and her muscles drew instinctively tight. Waves of torment shuddered through her as she reached for her magic. Please, gods, help me.
“Smash the scepter, Selianne!”
Every needle in her flesh shivered, and each tiniest tremble sent bolts of discordant energy stabbing through her body. The threads of her magic, never cooperative to begin with, bucked and fought her will only to unravel helplessly as sel’dor worked its evil. Screaming in torment, Ellysetta redoubled her efforts. She could feel the barriers in her mind rebelling against the call, restricting the flow of her power even as sel’dor punished her for the attempt.
Writhing, she shrieked aloud, “Gods help me!”
She felt a tiny snap, like a soap bubble popping on the skin. An ephemeral wisp of cool, sweet, tingling magic breathed through her. An unfamiliar thread, untouched by the bane of sel’dor, throbbing with power.
She seized it, formed it, and thrust it into Selianne’s mind with a dagger-sharp command.
Selianne’s head reared back. Black eyes flickered, darkness fading to bright, familiar blue. Horror and confusion were etched upon Selianne’s face. “Ellie?”
“Smash the scepter’s crystal, Selianne!”
“Ellie…I…” Selianne put a hand to her head. Already her eyes were darkening again.
“For the gods’ sake, do it! Quickly!” Ellysetta pushed the compulsion deeper, only to reel back in sudden terror and comprehension as she brushed against Vadim Maur’s familiar evil, gloating consciousness.
Excellent, wonderful girl, he hissed.
She had a split-second image of a pale, triumphant face and glowing silver eyes. A voice murmured words in a tongue she did not know. A phantom blade plunged deep into her chest, piercing her heart with ice. She shrieked in denial as the terrible dark descended upon her.
Lauriana stirred. Dazed consciousness returned, girded with nauseating pain. Dear, sweet Lord of Light.
She heard Ellie’s voice cry out, “Smash the scepter, Selianne! For the gods’ sake, do it! Quickly!” And then she heard a terrible scream. Ellie’s scream.
Lauriana’s eyes snapped open.
Her daughter lay on the Solarus floor, weeping brokenly. Blood smeared her gown where she had yanked out half a dozen of the exorcists’ needles in defiance of her attackers, but her fierce resistance was over.
Sel’dor manacles clanked against stone as Nivane and Den grabbed Ellie’s arms and hauled her to her feet. She dangled limply between them, her head lolling forward on her neck.
“Time to take you home, girl.” A man Lauriana didn’t recognize stepped out of the gaping black portal into the light of the Solarus. He was dressed in long, flowing scarlet robes, a sash studded with sparkling jewels tied round his waist. Memories of childhood lessons and picture books filled with illustrations of evil magic wielders gave her a name to put to the stranger.
Elden Mage.
“You’ve led my master on a long chase all these years,” the Mage said, stepping closer to Ellie. “But your days of hiding are over.” He nodded his head at the men holding Ellie. “Get her into the Well,” he commanded. “Primages Severn and Gobel are leading the Black Guard not far behind me. They’ll keep the Fey off our heels. Selianne, bring me that scepter.”
“No, Sel.” Ellie groaned and lifted her head with obvious effort. “Don’t do it.”
“Obey me now, girl! Remember your sweet Cerlissa.”
Selianne began to tremble. Darkness swirled in the young woman’s eyes as awful blackness battled to consume her.
“Don’t listen to him, Sel!” Ellie urged. “Remember Father Celinor’s teachings. For children of the Light, there is always a choice. Fight him! Don’t let him use you for evil.”
“Selianne, obey me!”
Lauriana gazed through the tangled veil of her hair, gauging the distance between herself and the scepter. If she were quick—and if the gods were kind—she might just be able to reach the scepter and smash it before the Mage managed to kill her.
She accepted the prospect of her death without flinching. Ellysetta was her daughter, her beloved first child. Everything she’d done, she’d done out of love, to save Ellie’s soul. Lauriana would willingly lay down her own life to keep her daughter safe.
She closed her eyes and gave a small, fanning wave. “Adelis,” she murmured softly, “help me right this wrong. I’ll pay whatever price you demand, but please, Bright One, grant me the strength to save my child.” She took a breath, gathering courage and drawing her legs up beneath her. She would have only one chance at this.
A powerful boom rocked the Solarus door on its few remaining hinges, and the Mage glanced t
owards it. Taking advantage of his brief distraction, Lauriana scrambled to her feet and lunged. Her fingers closed around the round head of the scepter.
“Mama, watch out!” Ellie cried.
Lauriana glanced up just in time to see the Mage fling a globe of blue-white magic at her. It came fast. Too fast to dodge.
Selianne lunged towards Lauriana, but instead of attacking her, Selianne pushed her out of the way. “Madame Bari—” Her voice was cut off abruptly as the blue-white light consumed her.
Lauriana cried out in horror as Selianne literally dissolved before her very eyes.
“Fool!” the Mage spat. “Idiot!” A second globe of magic gathered in his palm.
“Mama!” Using her captor’s grip as anchor, Ellie screamed and kicked out with both feet. She caught the Mage behind one knee just as he released his magic. The deadly Mage Fire went high, scorching the air over Lauriana’s head and exploding harmlessly against the magic-fortified wall behind her.
With desperate haste, Lauriana smashed the scepter against the marble floor.
The crystal shattered.
The Solarus door burst inwards with a thunderous crash. Rain Tairen Soul and Ellysetta’s quintet leapt through the Solarus doorway, swords bared, magic blazing.
Never had Lauriana seen a more welcome sight.
“They’re coming, Ellie! The Fey are—” Her cry broke off as a sudden sting set fire to her chest and a wave of weakness swept over her. She looked down, half expecting to find a smoldering hole in her chest. Instead, a dark, jeweled dagger hilt quivered inches from her heart.
“Stupid woman.” The Mage swept out one arm, and Lauriana went flying. Her body smacked hard against a column to the right of the altar and crumpled in a broken heap.
“Mama!” Ellie cried out, lunging against her captors’ grips.
“Nivane, damn you!” the Mage shouted as he flung a roiling, blue-white ball of Mage Fire across the room to halt the Fey’s advance. “Get the girl into the Well now!”
