The Destroyer Book 4

by Michael-Scott Earle

  “You destroyed everything, Kaiyer!” Malek screamed at me. My armored hand closed around his throat and his next words were lost. I thought about ripping the Water out of his body, but I wanted to see him struggle for air while I squeezed the last bits of life from him. His hands pried at my gauntlet and he reached for his dagger. The blade stabbed impotently at the screaming skulls etched into my armor.

  Alexia fell upon my arm from above with her sword cleaving downward. My focus on Malek should have cost me the limb, but again I was saved by my armor. The blade could not penetrate the skull-encrusted plates, but the impact of her blow numbed my arm for a second and Malek twisted out of my grip and sprinted away while Alexia spun her twin swords at me.

  She was an amazing swordswoman and wielded her trademarked set of blades with a ruthless efficiency. She was a chaotic fighter and often faded in and out of melee range with an acrobatic flip of her body. Though we had not sparred together often, I could anticipate her moves.

  Her swords aimed both high on my shoulder and then low toward my groin. My shield was large enough to deflect both, and then my mace swung around to smash her hip into liquid. She spun back away from me and flipped up into a handstand on her left hand. The blonde woman flicked her right fingers and my shield slid in front of my face to block the four darts that she had perfectly aimed at the eye holes in my screaming skull armor.

  She bounced to her feet and I feinted a mace strike. She was too far out of range anyway but she took the bait and raised both of her swords to parry the attack. My right leg swept from her flank and my shin made contact with the side of her left knee. The joint there broke and she tumbled to the ground.

  Thayer had clawed his way from the ruins of the building under which I had buried him and emerged from the dead with a scream of rage and a deadly swing of his blade aimed at me. My right arm almost broke when I caught the blow and my boots slid back across the smooth stones of the roadway.

  His mouth was covered in foam and his tunic with blood and ash. His sword strikes came in a frantic volley of attacks that I could do little more than block, and he succeeded in positioning himself in front of Alexia.

  Thayer could not keep up his frenzy for long. He was strong, and he was fast, but I knew his magic would not allow him to recover quickly enough from the stress he was causing himself with his rage and speed. I could not reach past him to finish Alexia, and he protected her just long enough for her leg to heal. She rose and both of them came at me, their swords and eyes hungry for vengeance.

  Their blades simultaneously sought holes in my defense, but there were none. What my shield could not block, my weapon parried. What my mace could not deflect scraped harmlessly off of my screaming demon armor. After half a minute of frenzied attacks, their blades had done nothing but sing their song of disappointment.

  Thayer had exhausted himself. He had not kept up the robust training regimen and discipline that he had during the war. His swings left his flank exposed. I slammed my mace into his ribs. He smiled as soon as I took the bait and dropped his weapon to grab my elbow. My left arm was tied up by his body and Alexia threw herself onto my shield.

  Malek jumped down from the roof of a burning building, aiming the point of a lance at my face. I let go of my shield and flipped over Thayer’s back before Malek’s spear could hit. I lifted the bald man over my shoulders and bent my body backward to smash his bare head into the cobblestone street. His skull cracked with his spine and shoulders. He released his grip on my arms as his body went limp.

  Malek screamed something at me and then thrust his spear at the right side of my stomach. My armored hand deflected it slightly, but his aim was true and the point of the weapon slammed into the left side of my muscles. The armor held against the point, but the handsome man’s thrust was strong and I felt a few of my ribs crack from the impact.

  They healed before he could manage another strike.

  My mace swung out and Malek’s right arm shattered like glass. I kicked at Alexia. The woman rolled away from the attack, but she left my shield behind. I slammed my foot on the edge of the heavy piece of metal when I brought my leg back. It sprung off the stone tiles of the street and my hand grasped the leather straps to secure it back into the bulwark’s rightful place on my right side.

  I felt the power from Gorbanni’s magic cascade down the street. It washed over me like a warm bath and the flames obscured my vision for a few seconds. I jumped away from the heat and realized that it had given Alexia a chance to grab Thayer and sprint away from me.

  Purple Fire danced down the path of cobblestones and melted the bricks of the homes and structures near us into a greenish soup. Alexia bore the muscular bald man on her back and she slid around a corner, carrying her burden away before my magic could rip the life from both of them.

  Shlara’s Rest was burning green, orange, and purple now. Smoke filled the air like a noxious blanket and the city echoed with the screams of its inhabitants trying to flee from the ravenous spread of my flames. I had killed tens of thousands of humans and O’Baarni, but I did not care. I wanted them all to feel my anguish over Iolarathe’s death. They should have just let us go. Malek should have just given us the Ovule and let us leave this world.

  The Ovule.

  My anger suddenly stuck in my chest like a block of ice. I did not need to kill them. It would change nothing. My daughter was trapped and I needed to find an Ovule and save her, not waste time with futile revenge.

  Malek shoved his spear at me and I knocked it aside with my shield, let my mace slide from my hand, and then slammed my armored head into his skull. The blow knocked him backward and I yanked the spear from his unconscious hands. Then I spun on my back foot and threw the weapon toward Gorbanni. It skewered him in the stomach before he could twist away and he collapsed back on the burning street with a yelp of pain.

  I flipped the mace back into my hand, scanned the rooftops for signs of Thayer or Alexia, and then set off running through the torched streets. My mind was clear now and I regretted the moments of insanity that had cost so many innocent lives. All that mattered now was doing what Iolarathe could not.

  I headed toward Malek’s estate.

  Chapter 41-Kaiyer

  I gasped awake and frantically examined my surroundings. I was cold, wet, and exhausted. My eyes adjusted to the darkness and my mind grasped at the present through the fading fog of memories of the destruction I had wrought upon Shlara’s Rest.

  My daughter was on this world. But I had been banished.

  Tears filled my eyes and I could not contain my sobs. They came unbidden but after the first few racked my body I didn’t try to hold them back anymore.

  I could still smell their blood and hear their screams.

  But the smell was fresh. The smell was not a memory. The screams were here. Voices shouted in the distance. My hands were covered in blood. My body was covered in blood. The reek of shit, organs, and rot surrounded me.

  The floor of the room was thick with Elven corpses.

  They were like a twisted jigsaw puzzle, bent and broken bodies filled every possible space. A faint glow permeated the stones of the Radicle, just enough to reveal the black, green, and red armor of the dead Elvens. None moved. Was the empress dead? Fehalda? Vernine? I could not remember anything that had happened after Telaxthe sent me through the Radicle.

  I expanded my hearing and picked up pieces of a frantic conversation outside of the temple. Elven voices were coordinating a defensive perimeter around the structure.

  In case I tried to escape.

  I did not remember killing all these Elvens, but there was no other explanation.

  I exhaled with mixed relief and tried to find a dry spot on my tunic to wipe my bloody hands. I felt immense relief that I was still on this world, still conscious and alive. I just had to find the right Radicle and I could awaken my daughter.

  If Nadea knew her name.

  That and escape through the hundreds of Elvens guarding this Radicl
e. I glanced at my hands again and another memory buzzed into my brain like a hummingbird. I had worn the armor in Shlara’s Rest. I had worn it when I attempted to rescue my friends from Castle Nia. When Telaxthe used the Ovule, I saw my armor on my hand just before my vision faded to white.

  I heard a woman’s voice commanding troops outside. It sounded like Fehalda, but my headache made it hard to discern the voice or her words. Booted footsteps clomped above me and I realized I had little time to devise a plan before I would be attacked again.

  I tried to remember what I had done to summon my armor, but the familiar pain returned to my skull, as it always did when I thought of certain parts of my past. It never accompanied thoughts of the war or my life with Iolarathe. It came when I recalled the magic that existed beyond the common magic of the Elements.

  There were plenty of weapons among the corpses, so I grabbed a sword and a metal shield. I jumped clear of the bodies and landed at the foot of the stairwell. It was a quick sprint up the stairs and I crouched down so I could have a bit of cover while looking out of the Radicle.

  I heard armor moving around outside of the shrine and the room was darkened in shadow for a half a second. There were eight of them and they wore the black armor of Fehalda’s warriors. From my position I could only see fifty yards beyond the doorway before the trail turned out of view.

  “Telaxthe!” I called out. There was an immediate silence.

  “Telaxthe!” I called again. I had not seen the empress’s body downstairs, she must have escaped. They would have protected her at all costs.

  “What do you want, Kaiyer?” Fehalda’s voice bounced into the room, she was farther up the path to my west.

  “I need to discuss terms with Telaxthe.”

  “Terms of what?” Fehalda asked.

  “Surrender.”

  “You are surrendering to us?” Her voice sounded sarcastic.

  “Or you may surrender to me. I will not wear my armor. I need to return to the castle.” I doubted Telaxthe would agree to any sort of parlay with me after what I had done, but I had to try.

  “No, Kaiyer. There will be no negotiations. My sister was correct to banish you. This Radicle will be your tomb.”

  “I want peace. Please, let me speak to her.” I sighed in frustration and wondered if there was another exit. Could I make it to Nia before the empress’s army?

  Even if I could, the castle would be filled with Elvens and it would be difficult to reach Nadea, especially without murdering more of Telaxthe’s people. Even if I found her, I had no reason to believe she knew my daughter’s name, I only had the vague hope that Iolarathe had communicated it to her, finally, in a dream. Even if we knew her name, we would have to find the correct Radicle while evading the Elvens. Bringing my daughter back here would expose her to danger. We would spend our lives in hiding. It was no life for a child. But it was a life. There was a chance, however small, that it would work. I had to try. I had nothing else.

  “We did send you through the Radicle. You returned a few minutes later, and then you set about killing us. You can see why we do not trust your promises of peace.”

  Her words slammed into my throat like a punch to the esophagus. I did not recall experiencing the magic that sent me to the other world and I certainly did not remember returning a few minutes later.

  “So what is your plan? Send more warriors in here to kill me? They will fail. I do not want to fight you anymore, but I will defend myself.”

  “We will continue until we succeed. Once we have ended you we will hack your body to pieces and burn them separately. We will spread your ashes across this world. You will not return from that death.”

  “My generals could not kill me.”

  I knew now why they called me the Betrayer. There was something else that swam beneath the surface of my previous life. A truth my dreams knew but my brain did not yet fully understand.

  I looked at my scarred left hand. My magic was strong and my willpower was even stronger. I could not save Iolarathe, but I had the power to atone for my sins by saving our daughter. My friends had not stopped me, they had only delayed me.

  I watched as the armor formed around my hand.

  Or maybe the armor was what really lay beneath my skin. My own bones. I had once been a man, but now I was something else. I was the ghost of Kaiyer’s intentions and now I would live forever. It did not matter. The armor, my shield, and my mace were as much a part of me now as my own bones, heart, and soul. I called them to my flesh and they formed from their resting place. The pain of their embrace chilled me for a moment, but then I felt the familiar warmth of purpose and power they brought with them.

  Eight black-armored Elven warriors ran into the room. The first four carried short spears, shields, and had swords at their hips. The last four carried stout crossbows. Their coordinated push into the shrine was seamless and fluid. At once the four with melee weapons attacked, while the pair of crossbow-wielding warriors unleashed their bolts.

  I stepped backward down the stairs and raised my shield to block the bolts. They hit it at an angle and ricocheted off of the stone walls of the Radicle. My arm went numb with the impact of the projectiles. Someone gasped in pain but I did not have time to see if one of the bolts had found a new target before the spears were upon me. The stairs were wide enough to allow three of them to stand abreast, and they formed a shield wall to prevent me from working around them.

  Their spears danced out in a synchronized routine and I lost ground while I tried to deflect the long strikes with my shield and mace. This group was exceptionally skilled and I wondered if Fehalda had trained them specifically to fight me.

  But they were no Alexia, Gorbanni, Malek, or Thayer.

  After a few of their strikes, I got the rhythm of their tactics and found a hole in their pattern. The woman on my right was slower than the other two and she was having a problem working the spear back against the curve of the stairway. Their strategy was sound as long as they could maintain their uniform wall and push me back with the spears. I guessed that once I reached the bottom of the stairs the crossbows would have an opportunity to punch holes in my body. I knew my armor was strong, perhaps it was close to indestructible, but a wound crossbow bolt could dig into several feet of stone and I did not want to risk testing the strength of my armor while my life hung as collateral.

  My foes pushed another cycle of their spear thrusts and I leapt up a step instead of retreating. The woman’s eyes betrayed no surprise and I wondered if the entire strategy had been a feint. She could not pull her point back around quick enough and I smashed my mace into her exposed arm. The bones shattered under her armor and then I spun my body around to slam my screaming shield into the Elven in the center. It meant that I briefly turned my back to the first woman, but she would have to drop her spear to pull out the sword at her hip.

  The middle Elven flew to the side and smashed into his partner. The fourth was in the back of the trio and I predicted he would make the poor decision of trying to thrust his spear into my right side instead of falling back up the stairs a few steps to ensure that I did not get to his crossbow support.

  My guess was correct.

  I thrust my hips back and bucked into the spear woman behind me. It pushed her up against the wall and I felt her right hand close around the shorter left horn of my helmet. It was another risky movement, but the spear intended for my stomach grazed harmlessly past and I dug the tip of my shield against the back of the man a few steps above me.

  Then I pulled my right arm inward and thrust my hips forward, pushing the man across me and down the stairs into the other two Elvens. They fell into a tangle of armor, shields, and short spears for a second. I kicked the ass of the nearest Elven and they all tumbled down the winding steps. The woman hanging on my back tugged at the horn on my helmet and I felt her other hand drop her shield. She was going for a dagger, so I slammed my head back into the wall once, twice, and a third time before I felt her armor smash and her skull
split with a wet pop.

  The crossbows were at the top of the stairs and I heard the twang of their bolts being released before I could summon magic to incinerate them. I did get my shield up in time, but the impact of the projectiles shattered the bones in my right arm and knocked me down the stairs.

  We were almost to the bottom of the steps, so I did not fall far. I was fortunate that the Elvens below me had not set their spears or even gotten to their feet. I landed on the three like a falling boulder and heard one of their spines snap.

  Then I killed the other two with quick swings of my mace.

  I heard the crossbows reset up the stairwell and I realized that trying to assault them from my current position would be suicide. Instead I filled my body with Earth and unleashed my purple and green Fire up the stairs. It filled the spiraling corridor like a chimney of lava and four voices screamed before they died.

  Eight Elvens dead. Only a few hundred left.

  The steps had melted under my Fire and were still cooling from the hot liquid glass they had become. I should not have used my magic in such close quarters, but it would have been even more treacherous to fall back and try to defend the stairwell from below. I had few choices.

  My prospects were grim. I did not feel the same surge of infinite power as I had in my most recent memory. I needed a better plan than just killing small groups of warriors and hoping Telaxthe would run out of troops or grow weary of sending them to die. They would never accept my surrender now, and the more corpses I left piled at my feet, the less likely it would be that they would believe my promises of peace.

  “Telaxthe!” I shouted out again once I made it to the top of the stairs. “Stop sending your people to die. I want peace.”

  “Shut up and die, Kaiyer!” Fehalda screamed. I ducked back down the stairs and the room filled with enough fire to roast an entire dragon. The heat was intense and though I was not in the direct path of their magic, I would have burned to a crisp had I not been able to pull some of the energy from the flame and fill my own body with power.