Choice

by Gary Stringer

  It didn't pose a problem for long, however, as the dark elf channelled raw magic energy at the real Bernice, disrupting the illusions and knocking her flying to land a good distance away.

  “Damn!” Bunny swore. “That's my favourite trick!”

  “Children's tricks!” Z'rcona mocked.

  “Always worked before,” Bunny complained, petulantly. “Not against me it hasn't! Y'know, Her Divine Excellency was most displeased with me after you took that hourglass. I only wish I had the power to cause you as much pain as I felt when she punished me. As it is, this will have to do.”

  A red shroud of magic engulfed the sumorityl and seared into her flesh. Bunny screamed in agony, her pain fuelling her anger and bringing forth the vampiric side of her nature. She gave herself over to it, praying she could bring herself back from the edge when this was over. It would help to shield her against the pain, allow her to endure more and survive. Then she made a run for Z'rcona, but the dark elf had powers that she couldn't hope to counter. Bunny put all of her strength into it, but it was like wading through quicksand. She managed to close some of the distance, but then she was completely stuck, though she kept on straining. She had to keep trying. She could see that Z'rcona's strange power was costing her. The dark elf tried to hide it, but Bunny's vampire senses could tell Z’rcona was struggling to control that much power. If her magic should falter for just a moment, Bunny would be at her throat and this time there would be no kissing.

  Jayne was full of feral ferocity, slashing at her attackers with her twin scimitars, the curved blades often cutting inside their guard, negating the longer reach of their swords. As Bunny looked on, one of the two died, not from any single thrust, but more of a death of a thousand tiny cuts. The sumorityl wouldn't have been at all surprised to see the half-orc skin the other alive.

  Hannah was, not unexpectedly, more than holding her own against the Dark Knight, Linarceo Leonis. Her fighting style was as much an art as it was an act of defence. Her mithril sword, which Bunny had herself found in the Marina Fells Mine, had already penetrated her foe's armour once. Bernice was a little surprised there wasn't more blood in evidence, but she was confident her Knight in shining armour would rectify that soon and come to her aid.

  It was Rochelle who was the true revelation. Since joining the party in Avidon, she had carved out a niche for herself as a student of magic, researcher and philosopher, but she was also a druid - a mage with the Life Calling in the Secret of Water. And she was a trained fighter who knew how to take care of herself in a scrap. That was why she favoured her green leather, rather than traditional mage's robes. Eyeing up her attackers, she whipped out a pair of long daggers from her boot tops and balanced them loosely in her hands.

  She instantly assessed her enemies as bullies. They were used to intimidating people with their size and had obviously picked on what they thought was the weakest target. Well, there had been plenty of bullies in Avidon and she knew just how to handle them. They expected her to run away or cower in fear, but instead she ran straight at them with the pace of a sprinter. If that surprised them, then her next move had them completely bewildered. As she got close, she threw her daggers harmlessly high into the air and the two thugs made the classic mistake of watching the knives, not the girl. The blades flashed in the sunlight and Rochelle cast a simple spell to make her enemies’ eyes more sensitive to bright lights, effectively inflicting blindness. It would only last a moment, but it was long enough.

  While Rochelle did not agree with the philosophies of the Hand of Darkness, she did take on board the combat style they taught. In a battle, druid magic was a low priority, so she would probably not have the luxury of a Catalyst to allow her to cast complex spells, but simple, low-cost spells could be highly effective when used as a diversionary tactic.

  And she wasn't above using a few dirty tricks to save her life! Like a deadly gymnast, she somersaulted over the random swipe of a sword and landed softly behind her enemy, where she dropped to one knee and deftly caught her knives, plunging them into the kidneys of the nearest man. He dropped to the ground writhing in agony, but Rochelle spared him no thought as the other, sight recovered, sought to bring his sword down on the gnome's head with a two handed blow. Crossed daggers blocked the strike as she swung one leg around to trip him onto his back. Both warriors ended their lives with one of Rochelle’s daggers in his heart.

  Jayne's other opponent, meanwhile, had proven to be more skilled than the other. The half-orc was unable to break through and one risky move had been rewarded only by a deep gash in her left side. Rochelle saw this and threw one of her knives with deadly accuracy. The warrior was alert to the danger and avoided the missile, but in doing so he opened himself up to Jayne's scimitar attack. A heartbeat later, he too was dead. Jayne collapsed from shock and blood loss, and Rochelle ran to her side to heal her. Even with a Catalyst, a druid’s abilities were limited for those with only Life Potential. Without a Catalyst, the best Rochelle could manage was a spell intended to heal light wounds: only cuts and bruises, nothing this bad. Fortunately, it was enough to stop the bleeding, but the half-orc lapsed into unconsciousness and would likely remain so for some time.

  Hannah was still locked in a tight battle, but Rochelle was worried that interfering in her Knight friend's complex manoeuvring might disrupt her rhythm and do more harm than good. That left Z'rcona as the sole remaining target.

  Despite her pain, Bernice was defiant in a uniquely Bunny-like way.

  “You call this torture?” She demanded. “When I lived with vampires, we called this a slow night! I'm bored! If you can't turn up the power I think I might just fall asleep!” She was desperately trying to think of anything she could do to provoke Z’rcona. She thought if she could just make the dark elf angry enough, goad her enough, she might lose control of the magic. Alternatively, if she used more power, Bunny thought she might use it up faster. The drawback to that, of course, was more pain, but Bunny could live with that if her plan worked - `live` being the operative word.

  “You’re making a mistake, you know,” Bunny taunted her torturer.

  “You're the animal that's being tortured, and I'm the one doing the torturing. I'm not seeing a mistake on my side!”

  “You’re torturing me in revenge for beating you before,” Bunny pointed out. “Doesn't Niltsiar have some kind of rule against personal revenge?”

  “Doesn't apply in this case.”

  But Bunny kept pressing. “Why, because you're special? You’re nothing, Z'rcona!”

  “Shut up!”

  Bunny had been told to shut up before and it had no more effect on her now than it ever had in the past.

  “You think you're so superior? Well you are! You're a superior slave!”

  “Shut up!”

  “Congratulations!” Bunny jeered. “You must be so proud!”

  “Last chance: shut up!”

  Bunny teased her in a singsong voice. “You’re gonna get punished! Ner ner ner ner ner!”

  Z'rcona’s eyes flashed as she turned up the power and this time Bunny really did shut up, gritting her teeth against the pain. “My job here is to secure the area and remove any obstacles,” the dark elf said, menacingly. “He r Divine Excellency has other things to take care of first, so until she arrives, there's no reason I can't have a little fun. Don’t worry about me: killing you won't upset my Mistress' plans. Now stop talking and start screaming! In fact, I'll make a dealwith you: the longer you scream, the longer you live.”

  Z'rcona turned up the power even more until Bunny could do nothing else but scream. But she'd learned something. Niltsiar wasn't going to be here for a while, so if they were quick they might still have a chance. She was rather proud of getting that information out of the dark elf.

  If there's one thing I can do, Bernice thought, smugly, it's wind people up! Rochelle committed herself to action. The dark elf was powerful and the druid couldn’t imagine what she could do to hurt her, but nothing ventured, nothing ga
ined. Druid combat spells, while not especially powerful, had a way of disguising themselves as healing magic. As such they were able to `sneak past` magical shields. Thus druids could often succeed where more powerful mages would fail. Without a Catalyst, she had only one shot at this, but thanks to Ganieda she had a greater range of options than before. Decision made, she cast the Paralysis Spell at Z’rcona and threw her remaining dagger at her, but it disintegrated along the way and Z'rcona conjured a dozen knives that flew back at the gnome. Rochelle squealed and dived to the ground to avoid them.

  To cast that spell, however, Z'rcona had been forced to take power from the field of magic that was holding Bunny, releasing her grip a little. It didn’t reduce the pain, and wasn't enough for Bunny to break free, but it was a step in the right direction and Z'rcona didn't seem to be able to build it up again just yet. Bunny's moment would come, she was sure of it. She just needed to endure a little bit longer.

  Hannah was tiring. She didn't know how much longer she could keep this up and her opponent was cheating. At first, she thought he was just exceptionally resilient, but then she began to suspect his endurance may not be natural. His agility, too, seemed impossible for someone in so much heavy armour. Despite this, she had managed to use her technique to create a gap in his defences on more than one occasion, but he steadfastly refused to bleed. This time, at last, blood spilled from his wound, but a calm, misty look replaced the fire in his eyes and the wound closed. Magically.

  “Thou art no Knight, sir!” She accused him. “Knights art forbidden to use magic!” “Thou callest that magic?” he returned. “’Tis but the least of what I canst do! Let me demonstrate.” With that, he disappeared, only to reappear behind Hannah an instant later. Hannah spun around but she couldn't possibly be fast enough to avoid the sword that was already in mid swing. A partial deflection saved her from decapitation, but the blade still collided with her helm. For a moment, it was like a temple bell had rung inside her head, and then she passed out from the concussion.

  At the first sign of Hannah's plight, Rochelle picked up one of Jayne's scimitars and ran to defend her friend, but she got there too late and Hannah was already out cold. At a gesture of the renegade Knight's hand, the blade flew from Rochelle's grasp and the gnome was convinced she and Hannah were about to die. Instead, a wall of fire sprang up in front of them, which then spread in a circle to trap them within a cylindrical cage of fierce flames. Magical flames that used magic as an inexhaustible fuel source. Only magic or the death of the caster could extinguish it.

  “You'll keep,” said the man, dropping the archaic speech. “Looks like I’ve got other things demanding my attention.” “Awww,” said Z'rcona to Bunny in mock sympathy. “Now who's going to save y -?” but she was cut off when a charging Linarceo knocked her through the air. Only her superior elven grace landed her cat-like on her feet. The ground where she had just been standing was hit by a powerful combined blast of a lightning bolt, a jet of toxic gas and acid spray from the jaws of a trio of dragons: Callie, Brash and Loric, flying in formation.

  Linarceo Leonis was hit by the full triple impact, but when the smoke cleared and the dust settled, he was standing there still, unhurt and unharmed.

  Chapter 27

  Eilidh and Phaer had returned by this time, having done a complete circuit of the Maelstrom without finding any hint of a Gateway to the Well of Life. Part way around, however, they had found something they hadn't bargained for. Waiting for them was Toli who, though she looked in bad shape, was recovering with great resilience. She was in the company of a Catalyst and the Master of Dark Magic, Drizdar.

  The Supreme War Master had taken no hostile action and done nothing to prevent their reunion. Eilidh observed that incredible levels of Life energy flowed around him in the magical equivalent of a whirlpool, predominantly in the red part of the magical spectrum. For Master Drizdar, perfectly normal.

  He was in control of the situation, his plans having experienced nothing more than a minor bump. In fact, he had quickly decided it was better this way. Granite had been a loyal and capable servant of dark magic - he had served his purpose - but it had always been Eilidh who was going to hand him the source of all magic, albeit indirectly. In a way, the hobbit magician had done him a favour by effectively cutting out the middle man.

  Eilidh’s first concern was for her friend, Toli. She was shaken from her ex perience, and it would take her some time to come to terms with killing Granite the way she had. She didn’t regret her actions, but killing someone was a not a thing to be taken lightly. It was a terrible thing to do, no matter how justified, but given time, if they got through this war, Toli assured her friend that she would eventually lay her ghosts to rest.

  When Toli quickly explained what she knew of Granite's betrayal, Drizdar mildly objected as if it were merely a subject for a Council debating session. “Ah,” he said, raising a finger for emphasis. “One man's traitor is another man's hero. Granite Longbeard was a servant of dark magic - a fact he declared openly in accordance with the regulations of the Council of Magic. Therefore, his first loyalty was always to me.”

  “Actually,” Eilidh disputed, “his first duty was to Prime Magus Gamaliel, irrespective of his Alignment.”

  Drizdar conceded the point as a technicality but also reminded her that in wartime, anything that advanced the cause of winning the war, fell under the jurisdiction of the Supreme War Master. “Destroying Niltsiar is the key to winning the war, control of the Well of Life is the means of achieving that and therefore the mage in control of this weapon of war should be the Supreme War Master by right of law.”

  Eilidh hated to admit it, but he did have a strong legal case - it was open to interpretation, but that was a moot point now. According to the rule of law, after the war, if they survived, the Well of Life would cease to be a weapon and become an Ancient Magical Artefact. As such, it would be under the jurisdiction of the Prime Magus, but it was no stretch of the Catalyst's reasoning to work out that Drizdar would immediately challenge Gamaliel for leadership. With the extra power Drizdar would have gained, and the political kudos for having brought victory to the people of Mythallen, Gamaliel couldn't possibly win. At that time, then, Drizdar would once again be in legal control of the Well of Life. Dark magic would rule unopposed for a very long time thereafter.

  Drizdar had manipulated key people and events to use the war for his own personal gain, and the worst thing was, Eilidh knew that she would willingly hand over the Well of Life to this elf. He wouldn't need to take hostages, he wouldn't need to kill people, he wouldn't need to threaten her. She would giftwrap it for him if he wished, and why? Because it was better than Niltsiar. Life under the rule of dark magic with nothing but the tiniest spark of possibility that one day, perhaps millennia in the future, the balance might shift; versus total annihilation and destruction of everything forever. The choice was despairingly simple. She hated it, but reality was reality and wishing wasn’t going to change it.

  And so she had returned with her new `companions` to the starting point in her circuit of the Maelstrom, where it seemed all hell had broken loose. Z'rcona invoked her magic to cause a massive explosion right in the dragons' path. Loric flew straight through it with his Stone Shield active and Callie executed a fine set of complex aerobatics to avoid all but the very edge of the disturbance, barely enough to warm her scales. Brash wasn't so well off. Bronzes were good flyers, and Brash especially so, but he knew he couldn't avoid flying through the flames, so he chose the best angle and fastest speed he could and braced himself. He bellowed in pain as the fire seared his flesh and when he was through the other side, his wings were ablaze. He took himself away from the Maelstrom as far as he could, before crash landing in a cluster of trees where he passed out. Callie rushed to his side and took on her elven form. She may be the Elder Dragon of Air now, but she was still Revered Daughter Calandra, Cleric of Patrelaux. As such, then, she prayed and in the merest moment, she felt the radiant warmth of the Father o
f Light flow through her and into Brash. Any residual flames died and Brash's wounds began to close, but his wing membranes were in tatters, effectively grounding him. They would grow back, but it would take time. Until then there would be no flying for the young bronze Brash - Callie could sympathise with that better than anyone.

  “Dear gods!” Phaer exclaimed. “That's Z'rcona! How the hell did she do that?” The onslaught of dragons may not have gone to plan, but they had distracted Z'rcona, giving Bunny all the time she needed. She still hurt like hell but the dark elf was going to hurt a lot more. The sumorityl didn't waste time on subtlety or finesse. She just charged, intent on pure unadulterated violence, her vampiric form in complete control, totally unleashed. Some aftereffect of the Z’rcona’s magic prevented her from calling on her vampire speed, but she could still run pretty fast when she wanted to.

  Z'rcona saw her coming and frantically extracted power from the Maelstrom as Niltsiar had taught her. There were no thoughts of torture in her mind anymore. This was a simple race: if Bunny won, she would sink her teeth into Z'rcona's neck; if Z'rcona was faster, her magic would kill the sumorityl on the spot.

  “You know this Z'rcona?” Drizdar asked Phaer.

  “She’s my cousin,” Phaer replied.

  “And Niltsiar's agent,” Eilidh added. “Dead agent,” Drizdar corrected. He reached out with his magic, snatching Bunny and tossing her like a rag doll to land at his feet. And only just in time as Z'rcona had won the race, shooting some kind of dark anti-lightning from her hands.

  “Stay out of this!” The War Master warned the sumorityl. “You don't know what you're dealing with!” Z'rcona was confused for a moment about where her prey had gone, until she saw an elf in blood red robes striding– or rather limping – towards her, menacing and deadly, with his Catalyst in tow. She took a sharp intake of breath - she had been warned about this one. Seeking to get the first strike in, she cast a bolt of raw magic against him, thinking to destabilise his Life Store, but his Catalyst changed the essence of the magic, converting it Life and Granting it to her Master. He shot a fireball at Z'rcona, who shielded against it and so their battle was begun.