by Lakshman, V.
The men of Bara’cor held the other side of the gate, but the king was pressed against the shimmering field, clearly unable to enter. Arek changed back to his normal form and Duncan followed suit. A groan from his right revealed Brianna tending to Ash, who had also changed back to normal.
It took a few moments to check on everyone, but soon they were all gathered near the gate. Duncan seemed to be most injured, followed by Ash and finally Yetteje. Upon closer inspection Arek realized the bolt that had pierced Brianna was gone, and he guessed either she, or whatever magic she used, must have pushed it out.
“Is the gate shut?” he asked Duncan.
The archmage cleared his eyes and scrutinized it, then nodded. “Both ways. They can open it if they sacrifice another elf, but only into Arcadia. We’ll need blood to open a way back.”
Yetteje breathed in then asked, “Arek, are you all right?”
Arek looked at her and smiled. Something within him, something clean, answered, “Yes, for the first time, I think I am.” Then he added, “I just wish we weren’t about to die.” The smile she returned made him feel elated, and he resisted the urge to simply hug her right then and there.
The firstmark rubbed his head, then looked at Arek and Duncan without emotion. When his eyes got to Yetteje however he said, “I’m happy you’re unharmed, princess.” Then he rose with a groan and motioned for Yetteje to follow. They went closer to the shimmering field, looking at the king.
When they neared, King Galadine said, “Sparrow says the gate can be opened from your end.”
“How?” Ash asked, surprised. He looked at Yetteje, a cautious smile on his face.
There was a pause, then the king said, “Sparrow sacrifices herself, opening the gate again and one of our elves will come through. Then that elf will sacrifice himself and open the gate from your end.”
The party was stunned, but as Ash’s smile faltered Yetteje spoke first. “No. You can’t.”
A voice from behind them said, “You will fail. Only true sacrifice can make blood magic work.”
They turned, only to see King Mikal Galadine slowly step into view. He looked down on the body of Israfel and Gabreyl, his son and great-grandson, then back up at Duncan. He stepped forward and said, “Valarius was wrong—a man possessed with an incessant need for retribution. I’m the one to blame. I caused much harm and ruin for you, Duncan. We were friends once. I would bring some kind of peace between us.”
At that Sonya appeared, looking forlorn but desperate. She rushed over to Arek, looking him up and down without touching him. “You should know I sent you to Edyn for your safety. I never expected you to return and would have counted myself lucky if I had never seen you again, so long as you lived.”
“Why didn’t you come with me?”
Sonya’s eyes softened and she said, “I could not…”
“She was in love with Valarius, son,” Duncan’s tired voice still managed to drip with spite. “Your mother chose him over us.”
“You dare question my—”
“And she died at Valarius’s hands for that love,” said the elven king sadly. “You argue at a time when it is unseemly.”
Stunned, Arek said, “He… killed you?”
Sonya looked down, then nodded slowly. “True sacrifice was needed to send someone to Bara’cor to realign Lilyth’s gate. I was given up for that.”
Arek shook his head, unable to come to grips with all this. He squeezed his eyes shut, then said, “There’s a lot I want to ask you.”
“Later,” she promised, then brought herself visibly under control. She looked at Mikal and said, “What do you want?” Then she was quiet, her eyes downcast, as if in desperation she feared to say anything lacking more propriety.
Mikal knelt next to the body of his son, then looked up at Duncan and said, “Let me offer myself as sacrifice.”
There was a quick murmur of surprise, but Duncan’s expression didn’t change. When there was no answer, Mikal continued, “You cannot know the years I have spent in regret. I welcomed the death you offered me in life, Duncan, but my misery did not end. Valarius summoned me from death to his bidding and once again I saw myself wreaking havoc upon you and yours. This is where we end our journey, righting that wrong. I always wondered—”
Two things happened simultaneously. A black blade appeared, erupting out of Mikal’s throat in a shower of blood, the strike so sudden and vicious it caught everyone by surprise. And something whizzed by with a coppery flash and Duncan fell back as a torc snapped around his neck. The archmage sat down heavily, clutching at his throat ineffectually as the torc nullified his connection to the Way.
Slowly, Mikal fell forward, his blood splashing the inlays and pooling at their feet. As it did so, the gate flashed once and turned into the color of blood again. The shimmering curtain cleared and they could see the king’s party plainly, peering through their side of the portal though they could not pass into Avalyon without a meaningful sacrifice of their own.
Arek stood there, unable to reason out what had happened. He looked down at Mikal’s body uncomprehendingly, watching as the light of life left the elven king’s eyes.
Then a voice said, “I thought he’d never shut up.”
Kisan shimmered and then stepped into view, addressing the group. “I’ll make this simple. Yetteje, Ash, Brianna—go through. Arek, you and the red mage stay here.”
Arek stepped forward and said, “The blackfire is gone.”
“It’s true, I swear it,” Brianna concurred. “I was able to heal the part of—”
Kisan held up a hand and said, “These two are staying, not because they’re a danger to Edyn, but because they’re murderers.”
When Brianna looked at her in shock, the master arched one eyebrow and continued, “The red mage killed hundreds, perhaps thousands to gain what he wanted. He bargained with the demon-queen at the expense of Edyn’s safety and directly caused the deaths of all those we know and loved.”
Yetteje’s eyes darted to Arek’s, and she flinched at the directness of Kisan’s accusations. Tej took a step back.
“You promised to kill me by your hand before all this was over, remember?” Duncan said.
The archmage was speaking to the princess, and in all this mayhem they’d just faced was it any wonder she’d forgotten? The expression on Tej’s face said as plainly as words how survival had trumped any thoughts of vengeance, but now that coin was turning.
Duncan dropped his eyes. “Your charges can be justly laid at my feet,” he said simply. Then he looked up at Kisan and said, “But Arek has done nothing. Take me, but let him go.”
Kisan turned her attention to Duncan, acid in her voice. “Nothing, red mage? He killed an innocent boy, my son Piter, but circumstance stayed the lore father’s hand.”
Her eyes strayed to Arek but did not look directly at him, as if the very sight of him sickened her. Into the air she said, “I told Silbane you’d not escape justice for Piter, no matter whatever else may happen. Now, with the blackfire gone, I’m free to follow the new lore father’s sanction. The truth is I’ve been looking forward to this for a while.”
Kisan’s gaze wandered over to Silbane’s body and her eyes seemed to soften a bit, then she turned back to Arek, “But your crimes do not end there. At his worst, he was worth more than a thousand thousand of you. Yet you never appreciated the man he was, not when it mattered. Your actions forced my hand. I also lay the charge of Silbane’s death at your feet, apprentice.” The way she said the word, it sounded like a curse.
Kisan stepped forward, changed form to her full armored height, and pitched her voice so the king could hear. “Pull those you love back before it’s too late. Anyone left here will be trapped, and if they try and help these two, will be killed.”
The king’s voice sounded hollow and distant but his order was clear: “Ash, get the princess out now!”
Ash began to move but Yetteje countered, moving closer to Arek and the group. Her expression mirro
red her words. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“You’re not taking her,” Arek added. He looked at the firstmark and added, “We’re staying together.” He noticed Tej nodding, and a small part of him swelled with pride. She wanted to stay too.
Strangely, the firstmark gave up more easily than Arek expected, instead turning to face Kisan. He moved forward deliberately and said, “What you do with Arek doesn’t concern us, but the red mage is ours. As you’ve said, his crimes against Edyn are many and unforgivable, and he will stand trial for them before the King of Bara’cor.”
Kisan shook her head, “A trial? Not good enough.”
“He’s torced. Believe me when I say he will pay for every death he caused.” The firstmark took a step closer to Duncan and met Kisan’s gaze unflinchingly, “But he stands under Bara’cor’s aegis. Stand in my way and you and I fight again.”
“I’ll kill you again,” she stated flatly.
“Perhaps, or perhaps Arek will realize this is his one chance and side with me. You’ll face all of us and jeopardize getting no one.” When Kisan didn’t immediately answer, Ash took a breath and said, “Agree, and we both walk away with something we want.”
Arek spun to look at the firstmark, the expression on his face one of surprise. “You think I’m just going to let you take my father?”
Yetteje remained silent, her eyes wide with indecision. The murderer of her father was also Arek’s father, and she clearly did not trust herself to speak.
Ash flicked a glance at Arek and said, “I already beat you once by myself. Now you’ll be facing both me and Kisan. You’re good, but unless you’ve learned something new in the past few days, you’re not that good.”
“I’ll stand with him, Firstmark. Would you fight me too?” Yetteje, coming to a sudden decision, asked simply.
Arek looked quickly between the two, stepping back toward Duncan. “You’re not taking him,” he said as the white armor of Azrael flashed into being, surrounding him like a second skin in its protective embrace.
Ash shook his head. “Arek, the man is responsible for the deaths of thousands. He needs to pay for those lives.” He looked at the princess, “He killed your family. Don’t stop me.” The firstmark had drawn his blade too.
Kisan edged out to her left, flanking Arek. “If you have any honor left, you’ll agree to my judgment peacefully.”
“Do something!” Sonya cried to Duncan.
Arek looked at Yetteje and then his father and said, “I’m not going to let anyone kill us.”
Kisan slowed, then put one black blade point down in the ground, considering. After a few heartbeats she said, “I have to admire your pragmatism, firstmark. Well played.” She paused, her eyes flicking back and forth as she blazed through the possible outcomes, then she said, “Very well, Duncan is yours, but if he’s alive in a week, I’ll kill everyone left in Bara’cor.”
Normally such a threat from anyone else would be considered idle, but Arek knew it was very real. The master was exceedingly dangerous, but Kisan wasn’t going to get her way. He wasn’t going to allow it. He drew both his blades and his wings curved forward protectively in front, “Take a step toward us and we’ll see what new things I’ve learned.”
Kisan stepped forward as if daring him to act, looking at Arek like a black angel of judgment. She rose to her full height and said, “For the murder of your name brother and fellow apprentice Piter Winterthorn, and for the murder of Master Silbane Darius Petracles, I sentence you, Apprentice Arek Winterthorn, to death.”
Arek let the words roll over and through him, her verdict delivered with such finality it brooked no argument except absolute guilt without reprieve. For some reason he did not care, his mind watching and calculating distances and timing. A calm had stolen over him, a temperance he was not normally used to. Then a movement caught the corner of his eye and he flicked a glance, only to see his father walking slowly toward the portal.
“Father?” Arek said, now swiveling his head and backing up, trying to keep him and Kisan in view. “What are you doing?”
Duncan looked back at him, his features drawn and tired. Now that the immediate threat of Valarius had ended, the frantic energy that had sustained him was clearly gone. Add to that his severance from the beneficence of the Way and the man looked worn and haggard, physically healed from most of his torture but still nowhere near recovered. Duncan hadn’t paused at Kisan’s decree, but kept marching single-mindedly for the gate.
Over his shoulder he said, “If I stay, you die. If I go, you may die. Do us both a favor and kill that woman, Arek. Rescue me before it’s too late. You know how hospitable the Galadines can be.”
“No!” Arek surged forward but Kisan was there, blocking his way with blades poised. She stabbed twice but Arek rolled quickly and then faded back to a stance. Kisan seemed content to wait, moving backward slowly and covering the red mage’s retreat as Duncan and Ash made their way to the portal to Bara’cor.
Yetteje fired two arrows without hesitation, both of which were deflected by Kisan’s blades. The master looked at the princess and said, “Do not think yourself lucky. I spared you despite my instincts.” She then looked at the dwarven woman and said, “Take the princess and leave.” No doubt she looked at the weapon in Brianna’s hand, for when the dwarven woman caught that look she quickly holstered it and held up her hands.
“I think we’re staying,” the dwarven woman said softly.
Arek closed his eyes, knowing what his life had already cost. When he opened them Brianna’s look of concern told him she knew too. The patch on her neck was glowing green and pulsing steadily as she met his gaze with empathy. Then she glanced at Duncan as he neared the portal.
“Father, don’t!” he yelled. The need to act seized him and he looked around for any solution, his mind doing what it always did when facing real combat. Time slowed and his awareness expanded. Every minute detail became clear to him.
The firstmark’s grip tightened on his father’s arm, the man’s calloused hands making a scratching sound on the worn cotton of Duncan’s sanguine robe. Arek heard the sound of metal on leather and recognized it as Brianna’s weapon being drawn again. He could feel the air disturbed as Tej pulled back on Valor. He could feel Kisan’s indrawn breath in response to them all. He even saw the half-smile his father gave him, a look filled with regret and remorse. This is not happening again.
He would not let it. He would not lose another he loved to Kisan, no matter her rank or power. He stepped forward, his form illumed with argent power, and said, “I said, NO!”
Whitefire exploded in a conflagration around Arek that rivaled the sun itself. It caused everyone to fall back with arms raised to shield their eyes. Both Kisan and Ash took defensive stances, however their actions were not necessary. They expected Arek to act with anger, but he did not. Cold calculation ruled his mind, a gift from his dead master.
Those surrounding Arek blinked, clearing their eyes, then looked to each other first to see who had been the target of Arek’s fury. Yes, he’d often acted rashly in the past, but now some measure of his master, some part given had tempered him, like an alloy forged from different metals. Arek was no longer just Arek, but an instrument made, unmade, and remade by the greatest wielders of the Way, born of their shaping.
His focused blast incinerated Mikal where he’d fallen, burning up the blood that pooled and fed the portal. It disappeared, vaporized in the blink of an eye, and the shimmering curtain clouded over, closing the exit from Arcadia to Bara’cor.
When Kisan noticed what had happened, she cursed and exclaimed, “Are you crazy? You’ve sealed your own escape!”
Arek thought about what Piter had said, then looked directly at Kisan and said, “I closed that door because I’m not letting you get away. I am Arek Illrys, son of Duncan and Sonya Illrys, and a true Adept of the Way. For the murder of my master, Silbane, I sentence you, Kisan Talaris, to death.”
The Dragon’s Offer
Dip
lomacy: the art of letting someone have your way.”
- Argus Rillaran, The Power of Deceit
Sai’ken moved quickly, angling upward at incredible speed. Tunnels sped by in a blur, but her destination was a room near the centerline of the peak, a place where she would make her final offer. She could sense the guardians moving toward her, their power displacing the Way as clearly as a thrown stone created ripples in water. It was not hard to follow their progress, nor feel a slight trepidation as they neared. After all, she was not a Rai and combat held no fascination for her.
She burst through the last set of corridors and into the wide open space she’d sensed before. The builders and adepts had served their purpose, getting her into the mountain before Sovereign acted in earnest. Now her skills as a Sai would be tested to their fullest.
She found a comfortable spot and curled up, tucking her nose under her hind leg, and waited. It was not long before four guardians, then eight appeared, hulking brutes standing as tall as her father in dragon form. They had rock skin, roughly hewn from the mountain and given life by Dawnlight. Their eyes burned yellow, like the molten fire of the earth.
A dark form appeared, slowly coalescing in the chamber. It moved forward, becoming more real as it stepped down a set of stones to come before her. Her dragonsight could see what a normal person could not, that the thing before it had grown into a man-shaped creature with a crown upon its head. She looked to the left and right and saw herself surrounded now by guardians, each a mirror copy of the one next to it. She watched them, knowing any move she made would only result in her death. Already the tunnel exits had closed. There was no escape unless she won it through diplomacy or guile.
