The Purifying Fire: A Planeswalker Novel
Page 9
“Yes, I’ve been told. They’re gathering sssstrength,” said Chandra imitating her captor. “I don’t see why they have to gather it here, though.”
The woman nodded. “They are gathering your strength.”
“I thought they were having a little snake dance in my honor.” Chandra scowled.
But Chandra understood. This was dark magic. These strange creatures were sapping her strength. She could feel the direct assault on her energy now that she knew about it.
And they were effective. Considering how exhausted she felt, she suspected they could quickly turn an ordinary mage into a useless husk.
Chandra glared at the telepath. “Your friends tried to read me, and they died for their efforts. Quit while you’re ahead.”
“I can be patient,” the woman said coldly. “You may still be strong enough to resist now. You may even be strong enough to resist on my next visit. But you’re much weaker now than you were yesterday, and tomorrow you will be weaker still. And when you are weak enough, we will succeed. You will not be able to conceal it from me then. I will find out what you did with the scroll.”
“The scroll? That’s what you want? I don’t …” Cold surprise washed through Chandra.
The scroll.
“I don’t know where it is,” Chandra said, baffled by how they couldn’t know this.
“You seem convinced of that, yes. But there are many corners in the mind, many places for things to hide,” said the telepath, her clear blue eyes radiating in the dark of the room. “You didn’t succeed in killing everyone who was in the Sanctum of Stars, you know. Four soldiers survived. They saw you flee into the city streets with the scroll.”
“Uh-huh.” She wouldn’t let herself think about what had happened. Truth be told, she was too tired to think about it, anyway.
“If you want the scroll back,” Chandra said, “why not talk to the man who got it back last time?”
“The Prelate says he’s gone.” It was obvious the woman was only answering because she was curious to see what Chandra’s reaction would be.
“Gone where?”
“I do not question the Prelate.”
“No, of course not,” said Chandra, using the same tone of voice the telepath had used moments before.
“Where is the scroll?” the mage demanded, realizing she was being mocked.
“Why does it matter so much to you?”
“You risked death twice to acquire it. Why does it matter so much to you?’”
“If I tell you where the scroll is,” Chandra said, “what then?”
“You destroyed the Sanctum of Stars, a holy place filled with Kephalai’s most precious artifacts. You killed soldiers, guards, and mages dedicated to its protection. You damaged more than property. You damaged the will of the people of Kephalai. You created a city-wide panic. The death toll has not yet been measured.” The mage’s gaze was hostile. “But if you cooperate now and tell us where the scroll is, your sentence will be lenient.”
“How lenient?”
“You will be executed. Quickly and humanely. Otherwise, we will leave you to the Enervants, and they are not know for their humanity.”
“Well,” Chandra said. “It’s always nice to have choices.”
“If you do not cooperate,” the mage said, “if you force me to wait until you are weak enough for me to probe your mind for the answers we seek, then you will no longer have a choice. We will learn all that we want to know. I, personally, hope you decide to help us find the scroll. The Enervants’ ways are are repellant to me. No one deserves what they have in store for you.”
“All that you want to know?” Chandra said. “What answers are you looking for, besides the location of the scroll?”
“For starters, who are you, and what did you plan to do with the scroll?”
“I don’t really like to talk about myself,” Chandra said.
“Where were you born? Who are your people?”
“And I especially don’t talk about my past.”
The mage looked at her for a moment longer, then said, “It doesn’t matter. Soon, I will know all that I want to know.”
“You won’t find out where the scroll is,” Chandra said truthfully.
“Yes, I will. But, in any event, you have made your choice. I will inform the Prelate: death by slow torture.”
“I look forward to it.”
“I’m sure you do,” she looked at Chandra with what seemed to be pitty. “These guards will remain outside the door should you decide to give us the answers we seek.”
“How will they know when to come in?”
“This one is Dirk,” she said indicating one of the guards. “Call his name, and he will come.”
Only after the mage left the dungeon did Chandra risk dwelling on what the woman had told her.
They don’t know where the scroll is.
It had been in Chandra’s hand when she lost consciousness in the city streets, and she had woken up in captivity. She had assumed her captors had reclaimed possession of the scroll.
There was obviously more to Gideon than she thought. She’d seen for herself that he was fast, that he moved quickly. So he must have had time to conceal the scroll from the soldiers after incapacitating her.
Things were in chaos at the time, after all. Perhaps Gideon had claimed, when turning her unconscious carcass over to them, that she didn’t have the scroll on her, and had planted the notion that she had hidden it somewhere.
Was that why he had let them capture her? So he could make off with the scroll?
I will kill him for this.
The rage felt good. It woke her up, cleared her head, and refreshed her senses.
She focused on her anger, on the fury in her heart at being duped by that man. She berated herself for the way he had taken her by surprise and overpowered her. She imagined him enjoying himself somewhere now, with her scroll, having a good laugh over her predicament.
Because of him, she was chained to a wall in a dungeon and being drained of energy by these snakes! Get mad, this is good. Anger is accelerant. Rage is fuel. Fury is fire.
She had to escape. Death by slow torture was no way for a planeswalker to die. More to the point, she couldn’t hunt him, she couldn’t get revenge on Gideon, if she died here.
A big boom would go a long way toward solving her current problem. But even with the reassuring glow of rage coursing through her now, she knew there was no way she could summon that kind of power. Not until she recovered from the sapping sorcery of the Enervants. And she’d only start recovering once she got away from them.
She had to act now. Immediately. The longer she was in their custody, the weaker she would get.
Chandra closed her eyes and focused on her breathing, concentrating, centering herself on the rage. She embraced the anger, nurtured the hot thirst for retribution. With each steady inhalation, she felt her tenuous mana bond become a little stronger, a little more within her reach. With each inhalation, she felt power coil firmly within her.
She targeted her attention on the seventh Enervant. He had moved to the side of the room where he was reaching into a box. From it he pulled what seemed to be a black, wriggling string. It was about a foot long and thin. He held it out with one hand and came close enough that Chandra could see that it was actually a snake.
“What are you going to do with that?” she asked.
The Enervant’s eyes seemed to glitter in response.
“It’s going to take more than that to crack me.” Chandra was trying to put up a brave front, but, truthfully the snake was terrifying. Suspended by its tail, it moved purposefully, as though it was slithering toward the ground, its sharp head intent on reaching a target. The Enervant held the snake higher and pinched it again beneath his other hand. He slowly drew his hand down the snake, stretching it taut. When he got to the head and let go, it remained as straight and stiff as a splinter of wood.
The black wizard held it out again, showing Chandra what he had done, perha
ps taunting her with it, the dim phosphorescent light reflecting sickly in his eyes.
“Now we begin,” he said with obvious pleasure.
Chandra steeled herself, not knowing what to expect. The Enervant went to her right hand and inspected it for a moment, his tongue flickering gently from his mouth. Chandra balled up a fist in response, but in retrospect it was the wrong thing to do. The creature leveled the straightened snake at her knuckles, placed its head directly between her index and forefinger, and pushed. The thing’s head cut into her flesh easily, burning with a pain more intense than anything she had ever known.
Chandra screamed as the entire snake went into her hand, its form bulging beneath her skin as it began to slither up her arm. The pain was like nothing she had ever known.
“DIRK!” she screamed as loudly as she could. “Get in here now!”
Without any further promting, the two guards entered the room. “Get this thing out of my arm,” she cried. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
The guard called Dirk gave the command to the Enervant to do as she said. He produced a knife and made a small inciscion just above the snake’s head, which emerged without prompting. The Enervant took hold of it with his withered nails and pulled it out, spilling blood and interstitial fluid heedlessly. Both guards’ faces went ashen. Chandra was sure the one behind Dirk was on the verge of fainting. For her own part, the only thing that kept Chandra conscious was a fury as pure the heart of the volcano. But she knew she could not let this show. Instead she let her head drop as though she’d fainted.
The guard called Dirk collected himself. “Well, out with it, then. Where’s the scroll?” When Chandra didn’t answer he nudged her, but she still gave no response. “Get some water,” he told the other.
Dirk unshackled her right wrist and let her wounded arm hang. Although it was throbbing, Chandra didn’t feel like there was lasting damage. She remained motionless with her head hanging until the guard came back with a pail and ladle. At that, Chandra raised her head weakly and looked at the guard. He held the full ladle out to her and she cupped the bowl in her hand, bending her head over it as though to drink, her hair falling around it to obscure the ladle from view.
Chandra focused her rage on the water and called on her power to heat it. Within seconds, the small amount of water had come to a boil, and she threw it into the guard’s face, blinding him and scalding his flesh. He stumbled back into the Enervant, who dropped his knife and fell back, disrupting the path of the other enervants. The effect was immediate. Chandra could feel her strength returning, her power blossoming like a flower at the base of her skull and racing out to her extremities.
When the fire came to her like this, it was as if time slowed for Chandra. Everything around her moved in slow motion, while she was able to think and move freely. Even as the others in the room were still trying to make sense of what was happening, Chandra grabbed the knife on the ground with her free hand and used it to pry the shackles on her left arm loose. Before the Enervant knew what was happening, she had released herself and was on top of it, driving the knife into his neck in the soft spot beneath its jaw. The snakeman went slack like a bag of grain.
She turned to deal with the other soldier, but he was was on his knees like a penitent, pleading for his life. Chandra ignored him and shifted her attention to the remaining six Enervants.
They were hissing noisily, their heads weaving and bobbing on necks that were much longer than they had originally seemed. They were moving to surround her, but Chandra noticed they were regulating their spacing and their movements were synchronizing again. She sensed they were trying to begin another ritual to drain her of her power. She had to act fast.
Chandra realized she was sweating and panting. The brief use of her power had already tired her far more than it should have, thanks to the Enervants’ work. Searching for one act that would affect six adversaries, Chandra called on her remaining power to produce a sheet of fire between herself and the hissing snakes. As she had hoped, it halted their advance toward her.
However, they were still between her and the door. Not only could they prevent her escape, they could also leave the room and summon help. Fortunately, they were wholly focused on her, and they were obviously unwilling to pass through her fire. She needed to move quickly, though, before they were able to act in concert again to sap her strength.
Fighting exhaustion and struggling hard to call forth more power in her weakened condition, Chandra spread her arms, then uttered a short spell that Mother Luti had taught her. She simultaneously clapped her hands together as she stared hard at the six wizards, keeping them all in focus. Her sheet of fire sprang around them like a trap, coiling to encircle them.
Their menacing hissing grew panicky as the fire closed in on them. Chandra clasped her hands together and squeezed hard, commanding her flames to embrace and consume her enemies. As the giant hooded snakes and their robes caught fire, their bodies writhed frantically. They clawed at each other, and their gaping jaws opened wide in agony, exposing their terrible fangs. The stench was unbelievable, and Chandra found it somehow disturbing that they didn’t scream or make any noise beside that tortured hissing.
The burned soldier was still howling in pain, and the cowed one wept, openly terrified. The Enervants were still alive, but writhing in their death throes as the flames consumed them.
With her captors all but vanquished, Chandra fled past her fatal fire and out the door of her cell. Fortunately, the soldiers had left it unlocked when they entered.
Beyond the door was a narrow corridor that led in two directions. She looked to her right and could see a dead end. She had no choice but to go left. When she reached a corner, she was spotted by two soldiers standing guard in the intersecting hallway.
“Prisoner escaped!” one of them cried.
She ran straight into them, hurtling her full body weight at them before they could unsheathe their swords. Her best chance of staying alive now was to planeswalk out of Kephalai, and she needed to conserve what was left of her power if she was to enter the æther. She knocked one of them against the wall as hard as she could, and stomped on the other’s stomach when he fell. Hoping that would at least slow them down, she ran onward.
She saw a stone staircase at the end of the corridor where four more guards waited.
Behind her, the soldiers she had just knocked down were shouting, “Prisoner escaping! Prisoner escaping!”
The soldiers she was approaching clearly heard. One of them, at the top of the stairs, shouted this same phrase through the bars of the door up there and called for help.
Another of the soldiers guarding the stairs saw her and warned her in a loud voice, “Within moments, thirty soldiers will come through that door! Surrender now!”
He was wrong. It didn’t take moments. He had barely finished speaking when the door opened and armed soldiers began pouring through it.
And, if anything, he had underestimated their number.
Chandra turned around and ran back the way she had just come.
Fortunately, the two soldiers she had just knocked down hadn’t expected her to turn back and trample them again. This time their feeble interference barely slowed her down as she dashed past.
Chandra knew she couldn’t deal with all those reinforcements. As Gideon so obviously had understated, she had made herself conspicuous. She had to assume this was just the first wave. Now that the alarm had been sounded, the Prelate’s entire army would be devoted to keeping her a prisoner or dispatching her. And in her current condition, they would succeed—not immediately and not without pain, but they would succeed.
She didn’t have time to search for another way out of the prison. There might well not be one. And even if there were another way out, she had no chance of evading dozens of soldiers while she looked for it.
Her only remaining choice wasn’t a good one, but at least there was a chance she would survive.
She turned a corner and ran
back to the large cell where she had been held captive. Behind her, she could hear the footsteps, rattling swords, and shouts of a lot of soldiers.
In front of her, blocking the door to the cell, were the the two original guards, the coward supporting Dirk. When the coward saw her, a new look of horror washed across his puffy, sweating face.
“Out of my way!” Chandra snapped as she moved forward. They might have fully obliged had she not reached them before the two could move, shoving them to the floor outside the door.
Once inside she slammed the door shut. No lock on this side. Of course not. Dungeons were built to lock prisoners in, not to lock soldiers out.
A fetid cloud of smoke hung in the cell. The Enervants were dead, but their smoldering remains filled the room with an odor so foul Chandra could scarcely bear to breathe.
Coughing as the smoke and stench assaulted her, Chandra pressed her back against the door and heard heavy footsteps approaching. She had only moments now. A short controlled burst of fire welded the door to its jam. It wouldn’t hold for long, but it would have to do.
She concentrated with all her might as she forged a path to the æther. The soldiers were pounding on the door, but Chandra was able to reach the meditative state she needed. Breathe steadily and regularly. At her first glimpse of the void, she hurled herself recklessly into it.
Behind her, on Kephalai, two guards—one an emotional wreck, the other gruesomely burned—would insist they had seen her enter the chamber. Their account would be dismissed as attempt to cover up incompetence when she wasn’t found inside the cell. Nevertheless, there would be a thorough search of the whole prison, and that would take time. In the end, they’d never know how she had disappeared. And when the Prelate received the report of Chandra’s escape, she’d only be able to guess what had happened. In any case, without the mage who had followed Chandra back to Regatha last time, they’d never find her. She was out of their reach the moment she entered the æther.
Which wasn’t the same thing as being safe.
Chandra fell through a tunnel of flame. And, having had no time to prepare herself for planeswalking, she was unprotected from the raw, red, furious force of this fire. It scalded her so brutally that she cried out in agony, feeling it burn through her flesh, her blood, her bones, and sink into her soul with angry, destructive heat.