The orb reached a new speed, forcing enough pressure through Gabriel to him burst. ‘Is this how it ends? No, I’m not ready.’ He doubled over.
“Stop,” Gabriel said faintly, regained his voice, and repeated, “Stop moving!”
Mikelle stopped instantly, but Nolen made a remark that Gabriel did not quite hear, for his ears became hot as he felt something wet and warm spill from them. From his crouched position, he saw blood droplets forming on the floor.
He collapsed to his side, choking.
“Oh stars!” Mikelle gasped, dropping to the floor. As the pressure threatened to rip him apart, she pulled wrapped her hands around his ears and held him fast.
As soon as the last body stopped moving, the orb slowed and the pressure in Gabriel’s chest eased a touch. He took in a deep breath and opened his eyes to watch the eerie light spinning around them. ‘How long it would take to kill someone?’
“What now?” Nolen asked.
“Air and Water won’t stop it,” Mikelle replied and slowly dabbed her scarf around Gabriel’s neck and chin. “You have three other options.”
Earth slipped out of Gabriel’s chest, this time feeling like a thin knife sliding through skin, and Nolen threw a chunk of the dark stone floor at the orb. It had no effect, and the movement caused the orb to jump for a moment. Nolen turned to Fire and raged bolts at the ceiling. Each passing second drained Gabriel’s energy.
“It is not working, brother,” Kindle said after a handful of moments.
“Spirit,” Nolen muttered. “Mage, I need a good Spirit attack pattern.”
Mikelle ran her fingers through Gabriel’s hair, and the gesture made his mind lapse for a moment. There were a great many Spirit patterns he knew that would kill and destroy. ‘The orb had to be alive in order to give off kinetic energy, so it had to be affected by a doldrums-pattern.’ The doldrums-pattern would render the victim paralyzed for up to an hour, but it was unlikely the Prince knew the pattern, and Gabriel was loath to show him. Many terrible things could be done with such a pattern, and Nolen’s lust for fine flesh was renowned.
“Mage,” Nolen snapped.
‘I have little else to lose.’ “Do you know the doldrums-pattern?” Gabriel muttered.
“You know it?” Tabor asked, a tinge of excitement to his voice. “I thought it was lost an Age ago.”
“Only a Class Eight or higher can manage it.” It took a great deal of strength to dull the sensation down the spinal column. There were different forms of the pattern that varied with each layer. Some allowed the muscles of the face to move, stopped everything altogether, even prevented the heart from beating. If anything went wrong, the victim would be killed. Gabriel had only tried it once. “Please watch closely.”
He pulled the strings from his chest. Each thread felt like thorns ripped through a hole. It was a circular pattern with overlapping rings that formed a sphere glowing in white. Once fueled, it need only brush a person to affect them. When he was finished, he let the strings slip back inside. The orb raced as he moved, but slowed as he lowered his arms.
The Prince took the threads of Spirit, and with little care formed the pattern. Gabriel had never heard of someone turning the pattern on themselves for lack of tact, but Nolen could be the first. That would leave them trapped for an hour.
“Take care not to touch it to yourself,” Gabriel said.
Nolen took some time to form the pattern properly with more instruction from Gabriel, both men moving slowly to keep the orb from spinning. The blood stopped dripping from his nose and ears, and Mikelle had wiped most of it away. The time finally came for the pattern to be fueled, and as the energy slipped from Gabriel down the white threads, he felt faint. It was a powerful pattern that required a great mass of energy, leaving him dazed for several moments. He did not even notice the pattern striking the orb and causing it to stop as if it hit a wall. The light in the room became calm once more. The waning and waxing energy in his chest vanished and he took in a sweet breath.
This time no door opened, but the floor sank slowly, elongating the teal-colored spaces under the orb. As it sank, an arched door became visible, heading back the way they came, leading into black darkness.
They stood carefully, watching the eerie orb, but it made no movement as they rose. Gabriel kept a hand on the wall as he righted, feeling the blood race from his face, and to her credit, Mikelle made no fuss over it.
“Into darkness,” Nolen said solemnly. It seemed so apropos. ‘I never left it,’ Gabriel thought.
Nolen stepped in first, standing in the faint light the orb cast within the new ward. Gabriel followed, not sure what to make of the wards thus far. They tested agility, skill, and education, but the wards did not stop them, which made him wary.
As Tabor stepped in, the door closed behind him, casting them it pitch darkness. The room had an odd sour smell, and as Tabor’s boots echoed around the room, Gabriel could tell they were in a vast area. Nolen wasted no time twining Fire into his hands, and he lofted bright light above them.
The ground was rocky and dirty. A rat skittered out of the ring of light to their left, but they couldn’t see any discernible formations. The ceiling was high, and the walls far off in the darkness. The smell of ammonia hung around them as they stepped forward.
Nothing but the sound of their muffled footsteps reached them until Nolen suddenly spun and looked behind him. “Did you hear that?” he whispered. No one had, so he continued on quietly. He spun again. “Which of you called my name?” he asked, looking first at Kindle and then Mikelle.
The women looked at each other. “Neither of us,” Kindle replied. “There is no—” she began, but Mikelle suddenly jerked her head up.
“Lambs lights,” she whispered in Arconian, a phrase Gabriel had heard her utter in curses before. Her mouth worked silently; her eyes fixed on something they could not see.
“Gabriel,” said a soft voice behind him. He knew it; he would know it anywhere. He spun around to see her. “Gabriel,” she whispered, her voice between a breath of air and an echo. Robyn dressed in silken white robes that were transparent and opaque at the same time, yet revealed nothing of her pale white skin. It was too blanched to bear a heartbeat. His heart caught as he looked down at her, smiling with her long hair flowing as if caught up in an unseen breeze. Behind him he heard Tabor run into the darkness, and Kindle gave a sharp scream, but he was powerless to move.
Robyn looked lovely as ever, a crown of sparkles about her head that glittered in the firelight as she moved closer to him. “I thought you would never come.”
‘This cannot be real,’ his subconscious told him, but he willed it to be so. “Am I dead?”
She tittered, something he rarely saw her do. She was never a gay girl, forever steeped in seriousness and duty. “You are, my love, at last.” He willed his hand to feel for the Castrofax, but he could not move more than a few inches. “They are gone, you are free,” she smiled, stepping ever closer. He felt weak, cold, and drained, but seeing her image gave him a touch of hope he nearly forgot he could have.
“How?” he whispered.
“You are dead,” Mikelle stated to someone in her native tongue. “I saw to it myself.”
“Does it matter, my love? You are here with me now,” Robyn replied, reaching a hand out to him. She paid no attention to the people behind him, though he heard Kindle weeping on the floor. “Come,” she said faintly. “Come with me.”
He found himself stretching a hand out to her. She was but a few inches away when he saw the all too familiar copper band of damnation around his wrist. He jerked his hand back, looking at the Castrofax wristlet. “I am not dead.”
Robyn looked a little displeased. “No, not yet. But soon. Very soon.” Her soft white appearance changed but she still stepped closer, forcing him back a step. Her crown shimmered and fell about her shoulders, scattering around the floor. Her hair shortened and became shorn off on one side. The concaves of her eyes darkened black. Her cheekb
ones and collarbones became all the more prominent as her skin split, crackled, and burned. Steam lifted off her and to his horror, she reached out her left hand to him. It shrank and shriveled until the bones were exposed. They turned to dust, blowing away in the unseen wind that lifted her shorn hair into a haunting stance. It was exactly as he remembered her.
“You did this,” she whispered, her lips swollen and split. “You were my protector, and look what you let happen.”
He lifted his hands and took another step back. Behind him someone scuffled in the dirt, Kindle still sobbed a man’s name, and Tabor off in the blackness shouted.
“Robyn, I never meant—I tried to—I could do nothing.”
“You tell yourself. You still have your strength. Had you come with me when I asked, I would still be among the living.”
It was something he told himself a hundred times before. He stepped back again into the ring of firelight. Robyn turned a shade of orange as she walked closer, her lips pulled back in a snarl.
“This isn’t right,” Mikelle said, close behind him. “This isn’t possible.”
“How would you like to go, blue eyes?” Robyn asked, a term she only used when she taunted him. “Would you have it slow and unending, or merciful and quick?”
‘But it already is slow and unending,’ he thought. She smiled in a grotesque fashion.
“Slow and merciless it is,” she whispered.
‘I did not say that out loud did I?’ He creased his forehead and took a step back. Something broke under his heel, and he looked down to see a bone sticking out of the reddish dirt. “Are you going to kill me?”
“You know the answer.”
“You’ll find me very resilient.” He still backed up. Robyn tittered again.
“Something is drawing them,” he heard Nolen say behind him. Somewhere in the darkness Tabor gave a loud cry. “A door!”
“I think…I think there’s something in here with us,” Mikelle said quietly, her back almost against him. Nolen pulled more threads of Fire and shot them into the black with a howl of anger.
“I hope your last words will be an apology,” Robyn said, so close to him now. He bumped into Mikelle, halting his retreat and felt Kindle grasp his ankle. Robyn reached out and grabbed hold of his throat in a movement so quick he did not realize what happened until he tried to inhale.
“Gabriel? Nolen—” Mikelle began when suddenly everything went dark. The cold grip of Robyn’s good hand was still on him as he stumbled forward into the darkness. He would have been pulled away had Kindle not had a sturdy grip on a strap of his boot. At that, he nearly wrenched her shoulder out of its socket. He grabbed for Robyn’s arm but could not find it in the darkness. In fact, the more he scrabbled, the more he wondered if there was anything there at all. He sucked in a pinched breath and knew whatever was attacking him was real.
Someone threw an arm around his shoulder and one under his arm, gripping the center of his chest as they pulled him back. It was too strong to be Mikelle or Kindle, and it was most assuredly not Nolen, leaving Tabor. The man pulled him back several feet, and Gabriel could collect himself.
“Can you stand?” his rescuer asked as Gabriel gasped for breath. The deep, calm voice was familiar—but it was not one of his companions. Adrenaline raced through him in a panic, but the arms wrapped around him were sturdy and nonthreatening. There was a scent about the man that reminded him of a campfire, smoky, earthen, and welcoming.
“Who?” was all Gabriel could manage as the man dragged him backwards.
“I never left you, son. Were I fearful of your future, I would have abandoned you long ago.”
The familiar line tickled Gabriel’s memory. The king-like man in the hall of Kilkiny said the same thing eons ago. It was not possible for him to be here, too. “Who are you?” Gabriel whispered in a reverent tone.
“You know,” Arding answered. He stopped and released Gabriel, keeping hands on him to ensure he could stand like a father would aid a toddler.
The word came to Gabriel from nowhere, issued forth without restraint, born without thinking: “Fire.”
“What did you say?” Nolen’s voice snapped out of the darkness.
“Use Fire,” Gabriel repeated. “It’s drawn to the light!”
“There’s a good lad,” Arding’s voice whispered as he released his grip on Gabriel’s shoulder.
A ball of light appeared to Gabriel’s right, blinding him for a moment. Nolen hurled the fire into the darkness, illuminating the cavern as it flew. It landed in the center, and smoky, misty specters slowly stepped out of the black and into the ring of light, watching them with hollow eyes. Of the king-like man there was no sign, but Gabriel was not alarmed. The smell of smoke still filled his nostrils.
“Glad to see you are not wasted enough to dim your wits,” Nolen muttered as he marched past in a proud air. Mikelle and Kindle followed, the little Princess clutching the pale Mage who looked alarmed and angered. Both were dusty and Kindle had streaks of soot across her face that was lined with paths her tears had taken.
The fire cast just enough light to guide them to Tabor who stood in a doorway and beckoned them forward. With every step they felt bones crack under their boots.
“Quickly now,” Tabor said, ushering them in. “Bleeding unearthly this place is.”
The door was square with a straight lintel in old fashion and unadorned, and the small hall they rushed into was plain with smooth walls. A door stood on the far end, and Gabriel found himself in front, so he quickly forced it open with a great deal of shoving.
Light flooded in, making them blink as they stepped into the new room. It was hewn out of the rock they were buried under. A green light cast off the ceiling in a manner resembling glow worms, and Gabriel remembered the night Mage Shayleen laid a similar pattern. He wondered if they were related patterns as he walked in, but he moved his attention to the ground, for something shifted and crunched under his boots. A fine white powder lay under his feet, but he could not tell what it was.
“Can someone explain what just happened?” Kindle asked, visibly shaking as she dried her eyes. There were red scratches around her neck, but Gabriel could not tell if they were her own doing.
“I believe we experienced a Void ward,” Tabor answered, stepping in. His coat was torn at the shoulder, and there was red dust over his trousers. The door closed behind him.
“You cannot be serious,” Kindle replied. “Void is a myth Element.”
“Far from it,” Mikelle stated. All but Nolen turned to look at her. “On the crossing from Arconian to Anatoly, your stately friend the ‘Warden of Gray’ used it,” she replied with a glance at the Prince.
“Void mainly deals with mental and physical afflictions.” Tabor began. “I have heard it said that Void keeps one foot in death and half a step in life. In order to use it, one must be partially if not wholly in the spirit world, though it has been many a year since Void was used. Did you know Void Mages could once sprout wings and fly with Air Mages? I digress. I believe what we saw in there was a reflection of our memories, and nothing can do that but Void.”
“They were drawn to the light, thus drawn to us.” Gabriel muttered. “I did not know specters could take solid form.”
Nolen snickered. “Oh, they certainly can. I was unaware they were drawn to light though.”
“He looked exactly as I remembered when—when I found him,” Kindle whispered and put a hand to her lips.
Mikelle walked up to a large flat bowl in the center of the floor. A pile of silver flecks floated in what looked like oil. Nolen stepped up beside her to peer into it.
“Someone tell me what this is.”
Kindle ran a finger in the white powder, sniffed it, and took a taste. “Soda powder, I think. The servants use it on laundry day.”
“Why is it on the floor?”
“Figure out what is in that bowl, and we’ll have a better idea.” Mikelle stated, peering into it. She lifted a flake out of the oil an
d ran it between her fingertips. “There are no skeletons in here,” she observed.
“I can hardly see a bleeding thing in this light,” Tabor said, looking in the cracks for the semblance of a door.
Nolen turned away from the bowl on the floor as Gabriel crouched to look at it. There were chunks and flecks of every size in it, each with striations running down the sides. He picked one up and held it between two oiled fingers.
“Do you recognize it?” Mikelle asked.
He shook his head. It could be many a metal, and since metal was difficult for lower-Classed Earth Mages to manipulate, nobody could ever teach him. “It’s not silver or iron.”
“That’s a start.” She straightened and dropped her flake in the bowl. “There is water underneath us. Can you feel it rushing?” Gabriel shook his head.
“So why would soda ash and some metal be here?” Kindle whispered to his left. “In a room with no door….”
“Light me a source, will you?” Tabor said, one hand on a crack in the wall. Gabriel felt the sharp sensation of Fire ripped from his chest, leaving him breathless, and a flame added its bright light to the calm green above.
“Is it wise for us to be lighting fire after what just happened?” Mikelle stated, folding her arms.
“Why do you not leave the thinking to the men, hum?” Nolen replied, holding the ball of fire aloft.
‘I’m not so sure it’s a good idea either,’ Gabriel thought, watching the fire ripple in Nolen’s hand, though he dare not say a thing. The fire gave a spurt, a sign Nolen did not know what he was doing, and several sparks floated to the ground. As soon as they touched the white powder, the room went up in a great spark with a roar that lasted but a moment. It left them singed but unharmed, burning the white powder in two blinks of an eye.
Gabriel stood instantly and felt the worse for it, sucking in a deep breath that could not be attained. ‘What is this?’
Kindle pulled a sleeve over her mouth as she inhaled, and Mikelle shot Nolen a sour look as she coughed. “What was that?”
Gabriel was already deep in thought, back to the days when Mage Dagan taught him the properties of Earth and its many resources. ‘Soda powder…is also called soda ash I think, and when ignited…creates?’
Breaking Stars (Book 2) Page 17
