by M. R. Forbes
Eryn drew back at the force of it, her loss of control and the damage she had caused. She stumbled to the side, her eyes running heavy with blood, her head spinning. She waited to feel the weakness that came with the change.
It didn't come. It was the reactor, the resonance that had fueled her retribution. She had lent so little of her own power to it compared to the horrifying results.
She hadn't used it. It had used her.
The mountain quaked beneath the dragon's assault. The stone platform crashed into the ground deep below them, the echo matching the beast's bellow.
"Worm," Spyne said, renewing his attack on Oz. He faked to the right and then moved left, bringing his heavy broadsword up and into the juggernaut's head. The metal man shook on its feet, helmet partially caving in as it fought for balance, dropping its sword and catching itself on the wall. Spyne pressed the attack, barreling into the juggernaut, shoving it harder against the wall, then backing up to swing his sword again.
Lean arms wrapped around Eryn, tight but almost tender. Worm's face rested next to hers as they both watched the fight unfold. She squirmed, trying to get away, finding his strength unbelievable for his size.
Spyne hit Oz again, the sword creasing the helmet further. The glow in Oz's right eye disappeared.
"Oz," Eryn cried. She couldn't believe they had come so far, only to fail. Only to die at the hands of General Spyne and his Historians.
Oz shifted at the General's next blow, catching it on the side and swinging back around, cuffing Spyne with its hand. The strike sent him tumbling away.
"It is coming," Oz said. It began stumbling towards her, legs groaning with each step. It bent when it reached its massive blade.
Spyne was on his feet again. It was a blow that would have killed most men, and should have at least left him unconscious. He growled as he charged the juggernaut.
Oz saw him coming, turning with the blade, raising it to deflect the attack. Spyne slammed his broadsword hard into the weapon, so hard that he knocked it aside. He brought a booted foot up and pushed it into Oz's chest with every bit of his power.
The juggernaut stumbled back from the force, fighting to regain its balance. Its hand reached out, finding only air as two steps back took it to the edge of the empty space, to where the platform had fallen when Eryn stopped using her magic.
It's foot found only air as well.
Then it was gone.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Eryn
"Oz," Eryn screamed as the juggernaut vanished. She renewed her struggle against the painted man's hold, but he was too strong for her to break free.
A crash rose from the depths a dozen heartbeats later.
"You son of Heden. I'm going to kill you," Eryn cried, her eyes locking onto Spyne.
The General stood motionless, staring at the hole, ignoring her. His lips moved silently for a moment, and then he turned to face her.
"Kill me? No." He retrieved a rag from his waist and used it to rub the rust from his blade before he sheathed it. Then he walked over to her.
The mountain rocked again.
"That thing might kill me," Spyne said. "If it figures out how to get in. Not before you are dead. Once and for all."
He moved close to her, his eyes running from toe to head. "I haven't seen a wizard's garum in hundreds of years," he said. "Not since Genesia." His grin was mocking. "I always thought they looked better on women with curves." He reached out, pressing his hand to her breast. "You're barely more than a girl. More like a boy."
He moved his hand lower. Eryn tried to kick him, but he caught her leg and pushed it back with his other hand. "No. Not a boy. They call you the Whore, you know. Is it true? Are you?"
"If you're going to kill me, be done with it," she said.
He took his hand away, stepping forward and grabbing her hair. "I said are you?" he screamed into her face.
She didn't react. If he were trying to scare her, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
"You're a strong one, I'll give you that," Spyne said, his face inches from hers. "I don't believe you're a Whore. Talon was always the best of us. He would never disrespect the memory of his wife that way. Not like I have."
"He's lying to you," Eryn said. "Jeremiah is lying to you. The promise is a lie."
Spyne's face flattened at the name. "Jeremiah?"
"Yes. It's him, isn't it? The one who cast this world to darkness after the war."
Spyne seemed confused, almost broken by the name. His eyes darted back and forth. "Jeremiah," he said again.
"It was all for control. The promise is-"
A heavy hand smacked her in the face. Her head turned to the side, she bit her lip and fell silent.
"Shut up," Spyne said. His hand wrapped around hers, wrenching open her fingers and pulling Talon's blade from her. "The orders were to destroy the One Zero and kill the Whore. The One Zero is a mess of broken gears after that fall." He lifted Talon's sword. "As for you."
Eryn refused to look away, refused to close her eyes as he shoved the blade towards her stomach. She felt strong arms lift her, turn her aside, and then release her, throwing her to the ground before she even knew what was happening.
She looked up just in time to see Worm slip inside Spyne's guard, his dagger digging into the General's neck. Blood poured from him as his eyes narrowed with anger, and he tried to bring his sword up against his attacker.
Worm kicked it aside and then reached out, grabbing Spyne by the front of his fur doublet and lifting him with impossible ease.
"Worm?" Spyne gurgled. "Why?"
A blank face was the only answer he received. Then Worm threw him from the edge of the space to join Oz in the depths of the reactor.
Eryn took a step back when Worm turned towards her, the bloody knife still in his hand. She tried to see past him, to find a means to escape. She could throw herself down the shaft after Oz and Spyne. She could try to use her magic to slow her descent. Had Oz finished preparing the subroute? Could she use it to escape?
There was only one way to find out.
She made it three steps before the painted man had his hand on her wrist, his grip unbreakable, his strength unbelievable. Between that and his immunity to magic - it was as if he were a juggernaut in human form.
Eryn spun around to face him, struggling against his grip. He was calm and steady, holding onto her but not making any move to attack. The knife slipped from his hand and returned to the floor.
He doesn't want to kill me.
She stopped fighting.
"What do you want from me?" she asked him, struggling to hold herself together. A few minutes of chaos had stolen all of her companions from her. Again.
She was alone.
Again.
No. She wasn't alone. Not exactly.
She wasn't sure which was worse.
Not yet. By Amman, not yet. I'll fight with every breath I have, and see them all again in His arms.
He didn't say anything. The mountain shook again under the force of the dragon.
He pointed up towards it, and then back to the corridor.
"I'm not going anywhere with you," she said.
He looked down at the knife.
"Then kill me."
His body heaved a sigh. He pointed at her, and then himself, and then the knife. I saved your life.
"Why? Why did you save me? Why did you let me escape in Varrow? What is it you want from me?"
He pointed towards the reactor again.
"There's a dragon out there," Eryn said. "We can go down. There's another way out." If Oz had prepared the subroute, perhaps it would deliver them to Talon. He wouldn't fail the way Spyne had.
He shook his head, pointing more forcefully in the other direction. Did he know what she was up to?
She looked into his eyes. They were intelligent eyes. Not wild. Calculating, and surprisingly warm.
"Can you speak at all?" she asked. Oz and its limited vocabulary had been hard enough to d
eal with.
He shook his head. He bent down and picked up the knife, wiping it clean on the leg of his pants. Then he held it out to her.
"You're giving me your knife?"
He nodded.
"Why?"
He shrugged.
She reached out with her free hand and took it. He let go of her wrist.
"I have a feeling that you don't need a weapon to kill me, and you'll always be able to catch me if I try to run."
He shrugged again, though a small, boyish smile teased its way into the corner of his mouth.
"Amman, I hope this is part of Your plan for me," Eryn said softly, looking towards the corner where Loshe had been before her fires reduced him to dust.
She reached up and wiped the tears from her face, forcing herself to be strong, pushing the sadness back. They would never survive, never succeed if she succumbed to hopelessness.
"Lead the way."
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Talon
It took Wilem two days to recover. They waited in the forest outside the Refinery, keeping him hidden in the bramble while he slept off the damage the Curse had done.
When he woke, he woke with a start, shouting Eryn's name.
"Calm yourself, my boy," Talon said. That he had woken with her in his thoughts was a good sign to him. "You're safe."
"Talon," Wilem said, looking around. "Where are we?"
"Near the Refinery," he replied.
"The Refinery?" He smiled. "We made it." He paused. "I don't remember much after we attacked the Carriers."
Talon sent a command to one of the Carriers, bringing it into their hiding place. Wilem's face turned to panic when he saw it, and he began trying to back away.
"Be still, my boy. It won't hurt you." He reached under his shirt and lifted the control stone. "This one is ours."
Wilem calmed immediately. "The Carriers are juggernauts?"
"Yes. They were called four zero, back when I created them."
"You made them?"
Talon nodded. "It seems that I did, many years ago. After the war against the Shifters. Back when the promise was still poisoning my mind."
Did I know what he was doing to Aren? I pray that I didn't.
Delia appeared from around the juggernaut and into the space. She smiled at the sight of him. "I heard you shout," she said. She was holding a waterskin, and she held it out to him. "I'm happy you're awake."
"Thank you." His smile was weak. "And for the water." He took it and drank. "What of the cure?" he asked when he was done.
"Gone forever," Talon said solemnly. His mind returned to Aren's face, frozen in torment. "General Kwille. One of the Nine. He was waiting inside. He destroyed everything to keep me from taking it." His face was even at the lie. It was a painful one to tell. Not because he cared for his companions to know the truth. Because it forced him to think about what he had done.
Murderer.
What choice did I have?
"Did you kill him?" Wilem asked.
"Yes. Too late."
"How many are left?"
"Eleven."
"You used one on me?"
"Yes."
He glanced over at Delia, his expression turning to one of guilt. "Why?"
"I need you in this fight. The cure may be lost, but he won't tell the Mediators that. They'll use their magic as they always have, and then they'll die."
"If I use my magic, you'll need to give me more of the cure."
"That depends on how much you use. We are in a bind, Wilem. I may need your power. I may need to ask you to sacrifice yourself to save the Empire."
"And I'll do it. Whatever you ask of me. Without the cure, without the Mediators, it is only a matter of time before his power will begin to erode."
"Don't be over-confident. His armies are still vast, and while the Mediators will die, the Cursed will die as well. If we want to save the lives of the people of the Empire, we need to confront Jeremiah. To put an end to his reign and work towards finding another cure for magic."
Wilem's face was grim. "All of these years, Talon. He has lied to me, and to everyone. Save your cure for Eryn. She is the face of the rebellion, the champion for the Cursed. I'll die to help you, and to protect her, I swear it."
"I believe you," Talon said, and even in his mind he did. "We need to get moving." He held out his arm, and Wilem took it to pull himself up.
"Where are we headed?" he asked.
"Edgewater."
Wilem's fear was visible. "Edgewater? Talon, there are only three of us. We were fortunate to avoid Edgewater to reach the Refinery. What has made you decide to even attempt to go there?"
Talon pointed back towards the juggernaut. "I have eight of them under my control. These are not one zeroes like Oz. These are the last that were made. The most advanced, the most durable and intelligent."
Wilem took slow steps over to the Carrier. It looked more like a human wearing armor than a machine. He studied its face. There was nothing behind it.
"I am quite certain that Overlord Olmas doesn't have enough soldiers remaining in Edgewater to bring them down," Talon said.
"He doesn't need to destroy them. Only you."
Talon smiled. "I'd like to see him succeed in that."
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Talon
They left soon after, pausing only to allow Wilem a chance to clean himself and gain some strength. They had only one horse that Talon had found wandering nearby, and so Wilem and Delia rode together on it while Talon jogged alongside. His experience in the Refinery had left him feeling exhausted, but now that they were moving again he felt a new lightness in his step, a fresh burst of energy born of his renewed sense of purpose.
First Edgewater, and then the Empire.
They retraced their steps, going back to the east towards Gilspie, moving at as quick of a pace as they could manage. The eight juggernauts followed behind them, their heavy frames shaking the earth and raising a cloud of dirt and dust in their wake that could likely be seen from miles distant. The army was small but impressive, glittering in the light of the sun and casting moonlight in the darkness of the night.
They paused next to a small pond at the end of the first day, making camp by aligning the four zeroes around them in a circle. The juggernauts were able to see in the darkness, and would sense the magic of any wizard who approached.
Talon sat within their protection, a small fire in front of him. His eyes were closed, his mind searching for some kind of peace in the chaos. Meditation had always been a powerful ally.
Tonight, it was his enemy.
Every thought turned back to Aren. Every effort to find calm became a burning rage. So much had happened since he had started to remember. So much death and loss, pain and suffering. It echoed within him, a horde of darkness pushing back against the light he was trying to attain.
Murderer.
The word battered at him, over and over again. It was becoming so familiar that he didn't hear it in different voices anymore.
He only heard it in his own.
He growled as he shoved himself to his feet.
"Are you well, Talon?" Delia asked. She was already standing, her knife out and her brow sweaty. She had been practicing the strange martial art that Dal had taught her. "You've been running all day. You should rest."
"There is no rest for me," he said. "No relief. The nature of this war has changed, my dear. It isn't just a war against him now. It is a war against time."
"You mean Eryn?"
"I mean all of the Cursed." He looked around the camp. "Where is Wilem?"
She pointed south. "He went down to the pond to bathe." She smiled. "I was riding with him all day. He needed a good scrub."
Talon struggled to find pleasure in her humor. "He did," he said flatly.
Delia stood silent and uncomfortable for a moment. "Are you hungry, General?" she asked. "I set a few snares out. I can go and check on them."
"I don't need to eat, but you an
d Wilem do. Go on and check them, if you will."
She started to turn and then paused. "How does it work?"
"How does what work?"
She smiled, her pretty face darkening with embarrassment. "You, I suppose? The magic? A thousand years. I can't begin to imagine it."
"I don't know how it works," Talon said. "I can tell you that such a life is a boon to no one. All of us who have defied the nature of this world have served only to twist it, and at the same time become twisted with it. It is a pain that I endure for all of the Empire. For what I have helped create. It is a pain I shall only be rid of when he is gone, and I can be reunited with my love in whatever life follows this one."
"You're going to kill yourself?" Delia asked, surprised.
He hadn't given it any thought. Only in the moment did he recognize the truth of it. "I will find my brothers, those of the Nine who may remain. I will end their lives, and then I will end mine. The darkness of the past must be returned to it, so that the future, you and the generations that follow you, can rebuild the Empire free of our poisonous touch."
Delia stared at him, unsure of what to say. Then she nodded. "I'll go and check on the snares."
He watched her vanish silently into the trees. He considered sitting once more, deciding against it. Instead, he lifted Kwille's sword, getting a feel for it. It was lighter and more narrow than his own, better for stabbing than slashing. He snapped it through the air a few times, smiling at the feel of it.
Different, but still a good blade.
If he were going to kill the rest of the Nine, he would need to be prepared.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Talon
He lost track of time within the motions of his workout. The shifting feet, the fluid arms, the swishing of the blade as it pierced the air. He wasn't the best swordsman of the Nine. That had been Clau. Or perhaps Feng.
They were already dead.
It wasn't an interruption of sound that brought him out of his trance and back into the world. Rather, it was the absence of it. He came to an abrupt stop, his muscles sore but energized, his arms glistening with sweat. He surveyed the camp with hawk eyes. The eight juggernauts were all in position, facing away from the space. No warnings had been raised.
