His Final Secret

by M. R. Forbes

  "If your orders are to kill me, then try to kill me."

  "Oh, I don't need to try too hard. I know you think the Carriers will protect you. I know you've gained control of them somehow. One word, Talon, and I can burn you to ash where you stand. That is why you wanted her to steal my rings, isn't it? Because you already know that? It was stupid of you to announce yourself. It was stupid of you to even come here."

  "You keep speaking instead of killing me. Perhaps it's because you know that you can't."

  Olmas' eyes hardened. He raised his hand. "I can, Talon, and I will. I want to know why you're here. What are you looking for that causes you to forfeit your life so easily? You were always smarter than that. What do you know, that I don't?"

  Talon laughed in reply. "So, that's what you're concerned about, is it, Olmas? That I know something you don't? I know many things you don't, Overlord. Foremost among them is that the cure for your Curse has been destroyed. There is no more, and there will be no more, ever."

  Olmas flinched, just enough that Talon could see it. "No, that isn't possible."

  "You don't believe me? I have the Carriers at my back. The very things created to protect the cure. I've been to the Refinery. General Kwille is dead at my hand. The cure is no more, Olmas. The Curse will kill you." He turned his head to look at each of the gathered Mediators. "The Curse will kill all of you, in time."

  Acolytes and Mediators both began to murmur to one another. Overlord Olmas raised his hand. "Enough. He is trying to frighten us, to talk his way out of this. Nothing he says can be believed. There is a reason he's called the Liar."

  "It's true," Wilem said. "I was there."

  "So was I," Delia said.

  Olmas whispered something, and both Delia and Wilem's heads drooped, their bodies falling limp and unconscious.

  "Wizard," the juggernauts said in Talon's mind. "Wizard."

  "This is why you came, General? To spread lies through Edgewater?"

  "No. I came to kill you and burn the Academy to the ground. I thought I might have to hunt you down. At least you've made it easy for me."

  It was Olmas' turn to laugh. "Defiant to the end, are we?"

  "Not defiant. Certain. He is lying to you, Olmas. He is lying to all of the Cursed. It doesn't matter if you believe me or not, that doesn't change the truth of it. The cure is gone. Whether you kill me or not, his control will fade with the lives of his Mediators, and a new Empire will rise. Whose side do you want to be on when that happens?"

  Olmas was still and silent. He stared at Talon as though he were truly considering his options. The Mediators behind him fidgeted. Were they waiting for their Overlord to make his decision or making a decision of their own?

  The soldiers above them were motionless, their arrows held steady. They had no idea what Talon was speaking about. They had no idea what the Mediators were truly capable of. Talon knew Olmas didn't want to show them if he could avoid it.

  "No more cure," Olmas said, barely loud enough for Talon to hear it.

  "Yes."

  Talon had come to kill the Overlord. He had never considered his words might sway him or any of the other Mediators. Even if they did decide to attack, he took their hesitancy as an important sign.

  Olmas smiled then, the smile of a kind old grandfather. "I'm an old man, General, older than even you know and long past my time in this world. These Acolytes behind me are young, and they need guidance to learn to control their power. They need a cure to survive. Even if I believe you when you say the cure was destroyed, I believe that he is the only one who can restore it, or create a new one."

  Talon clenched his teeth, moving his hand to the hilt of his sword. Olmas was old. Too old to see the writing on the wall, or to understand that the world was going to change.

  "He won't live long enough to have the chance."

  Olmas' hand began to raise. To use his magic? Or to signal the archers? Talon started lifting Kwille's blade from scabbard, and at the same time sent a command to the juggernauts to press closer to him, to use their armor as protection from the arrows.

  The loud bang of a door slamming open to their left froze them all in place.

  "Hold," a rough voice bellowed. "Olmas, you old shit, make no move on Talon Rast."

  General Spyne approached them as if he were the guest of honor at a party.

  "He is mine."

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Talon

  Talon stared at Spyne as he walked over to stand between him and the Overlord, noting the metal splinters in his neck. What had happened to his brother?

  "General Spyne," Olmas said, giving him a slight bow. "It is a night for impeccable timing, I suppose."

  Spyne's eyes bore into the Overlord. "Hardly. I've been tracking Talon for weeks."

  "Alone?" Olmas said. "Where are your Historians?"

  "Dead," Spyne replied.

  Olmas' wrinkled face paled. "All of them? Including the painted one?"

  Spyne's face twisted in anger. "Yes," he hissed. "It's none of your concern, Olmas. I came for General Rast." He turned to Talon. "Brother."

  "Spyne." Talon met his gaze. He tried to remember the last time he had seen the leader of the Historians. Fifty years, at least. He looked no different. Then again, neither of them did.

  "I was about to have him killed," Olmas said.

  "Yes, I know," Spyne replied. "I'm in charge now." He turned his attention to the soldiers above them. "I am General Spyne, and my orders are second only to him. Stand down and return to the barracks."

  A murmur rose from the soldiers, but they remained in place.

  "Stand down, by Heden, or I'll kill every last one of you!"

  "General," Olmas said, "I don't know if that is wise-"

  "Are you questioning me?" Spyne said, his hand lashing out and taking the old man by his flabby throat.

  "I'll kill you," Olmas whispered.

  "Will you?" His eyes found the Mediators. "Will you come to rescue your Overlord, and defy his General?"

  None of them moved. Spyne let Olmas go. The Overlord put his hands to his neck to rub it. The soldiers circling the rotunda were beginning to file from the room.

  "Spyne," Talon said. "The cure is gone. Destroyed. The-"

  "I don't care, brother," Spyne said. "It means nothing to me. The promise-"

  Talon shook his head wearily. "Again, the promise. Feng, Clau, Kwille, and now you. The promise is a lie."

  Spyne's face changed then. From anger to the slightest of smiles. Behind him, Olmas was raising his hand, the blue gem on his finger beginning to glow.

  "I'll kill him myself," Olmas said.

  Spyne swung back around, his sword, no, Talon realized, it was his sword, appearing in Spyne's hand faster than he could believe. It arced back and around without slowing.

  "I know," Spyne said, even as the Overlord's head and body fell separately to the ground.

  "Traitor!"

  The shout rose from behind the Mediators, where the Academy Headmaster was standing. "Traitor!"

  Everything turned to chaos.

  Arrows began to fall from the balconies above. One caught Spyne in the shoulder, and he growled as he yanked it out with his free hand.

  "That son of a whore."

  Talon quickly scanned the Mediators. Some were in motion, raising their hands to summon their magic. Others were trying to run, to escape the coming massacre.

  "Kill the wizards that are using their magic," he ordered the juggernauts. "Do not harm the ones who are running."

  He brought Kwille's sword free and stepped towards the Overguard that were holding Wilem and Delia. "Any Mediator that surrenders will not be harmed," he shouted, his voice echoing across the space.

  Then the tide of violence swept over the room. The juggernauts tore into the Mediators, blue bolts and red fireballs smacking into their armor and dissipating harmlessly as they grabbed the wizards and broke neck and spine.

  The Overguard dropped their charges and drew their swor
ds to confront him. Spyne roared from their rear, stealing the attention of one and evening the fight.

  An arrow landed in Talon's calf before he could engage the Overguard, cutting through muscle and dropping him to one leg. He stole a glance up to the balconies, where more of the soldiers were filing back in, unsure of what was happening but following the lead of the rest.

  "We need to do something about those archers," Talon said, forcing himself back to his feet in time to block the Overguard's first attack.

  Spyne launched his assault on his quarry, matched sword to sword on the first few efforts before his blade slipped past the soldier's guard and sunk into his chest. He held himself close to the Overguard while a pair of arrows smacked off the man's armor.

  "Already taken care of," he said. A moment later the first of the archers thudded on the floor around them.

  Talon risked another glance up.

  Oz was on the highest balcony, the juggernaut obvious at a distance by his size and form. It drove through the bowmen, grabbing them and throwing them from the platform as if it were tossing flowers from a basket. The soldiers on that level again tried to retreat, pushing one another in an effort to reach the doors furthest from the juggernaut.

  The second Overguard had looked up as well. He stopped suddenly, dropping his sword.

  "I surr-"

  Spyne's blade pierced his heart through his back.

  "Too late," he said, wrenching it back out.

  Talon reached down and pulled the arrow from his leg. "Halt," he ordered the Carriers through the control stone. The ranks of Mediators had been decimated, leaving only a handful who had fallen to their knees and ducked their heads when they couldn't find a path out.

  The eight juggernauts paused and turned towards him. Their armor was covered in blood. Above on the balconies, the remaining archers had decided they preferred survival to loyalty.

  "Where did you come from?" Talon asked, facing Spyne. "Where is Eryn?"

  "Alive, I think. It appears all of the Empire is ripe with treachery."

  "You think?" Talon stepped forward, his face inches from Spyne's. "What do you mean you think?"

  Spyne shoved him back with a large hand. "My man, Worm, ambushed me, cut my throat, and threw me down a reactor shaft. He took her."

  "Took her? Where?"

  "I don't know."

  "If he harms her-"

  "He won't harm her. No. I saw the way he was looking at her."

  "You saw? You are the last-"

  Talon realized that while they were arguing, the soldiers and Mediators were both waiting on their fates.

  "We'll deal with this later." He motioned to them.

  Spyne cleared his throat before stepping forward. "All of you, the Academy is now under the control of the rebellion. You have two choices. Swear fealty, or die."

  There was silence in the room. Talon stepped ahead of him.

  "Mediators, I know about your Curse, and about your power. I know the lies you have been told since you were children, and the lies you've been told about me. Two of his Generals have turned against him, with an army of human-made creations, men animated by the Curse, called magic, and metal that he wants none in the Empire to see. He doesn't want you to know the glory of what came before. He doesn't want you to live that glory again."

  None of them dared call him a liar after what had just occurred.

  "Soldiers," Talon continued. "You fight for him, but do you know why, besides coin in your purse and food in your bellies? You do his bidding while living in fear of his reprisal. No more. Join your Generals, and together we will end this tyranny. Overlord Olmas is dead, along with his senior Mediators and his bodyguards."

  There was a short pause, and then a few of the soldiers began to clap. It began to spread across those who remained, and the clapping changed to shouts and whistles and stomping feet. Oz moved through them, breaking the rail and jumping down to the floor.

  "It is pleased to follow First of Nine," it said.

  "I am pleased to see you again," Talon replied.

  "What do we do now?" one of the Acolytes, a young boy, asked.

  "Spread the word," Spyne said, raising his voice to a shout. "Go to your comrades, tell them what has happened here. Tell those who remain loyal to him that they have twelve hours to flee Edgewater or arrive here to fight for it. Tell them that General Spyne, General Rast, the Mediators, and the juggernauts are waiting to be their executioners."

  A few of the soldiers moved towards the door, looking down before exiting the rotunda.

  "Do you think that will work?" Talon asked.

  "There are no good soldiers left in his armies, brother. He has a strong force here, but the main armies are still returning from Elling. I'm sure you already know that."

  "I do."

  "Talon?" Delia's voice was soft. She was on her knees, and she struggled to rise and stay steady. Wilem had woken from the magic slumber as well and was pulling himself up.

  "I'm sorry, Talon," Wilem said. "I didn't think they would know."

  "It wasn't your fault. In any case, it has worked out for the best. Whether or not an army approaches the Academy, Edgewater will be in the hands of the rebellion by morning."

  "Amazing," Delia said. "Taking the Empire's capital in one night. Has anything like it ever been seen before?"

  "Not likely," Wilem said.

  "Wilem, take the Overlord's rings and staff. They're yours now. You and Delia are to see to the Acolytes. Make sure they are cared for." Then he sent a command through the control stone. "Clean up this mess."

  The juggernauts began to move, bending to scoop up the dead and carrying them from the room. There were still at least three hundred soldiers on the balconies, but they made no move to resume the fight.

  Talon turned to Oz. The juggernaut had been in bad shape when Talon had found it. It looked much worse than that now. "You have some explaining to do."

  Spyne growled. "More than you realize, Thomas."

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Eryn

  Eryn moved past the soldiers outside the tent, ignoring their questioning glances and the way they fell silent as they took notice of her. Her heart was pounding a sharp rhythm in her ears, her body warm and cold from the power pulsing through it.

  She had felt the rage before, back in the Washfall mines when she had seen what he did with his slaves. It increased tenfold when she threw the flap of the tent aside, her eyes burning from the sight of the female prisoners spread out across the floor of the space, each of them with at least one soldier around them or on top of them. At the front of the room sat an older man in ircidium armor. The General, she was sure.

  "Mediator?" the General said on seeing her. "I had thought he had ordered all of his Cursed-hunters back west? There are no Cursed to find in Elling. Not anymore."

  The words only served to increase her anger. She struggled to manage it, to keep the magic under her control. She had killed Loshe with it because she hadn't been strong enough.

  She walked towards him. The soldiers around her paused in their actions, and every eye turned in her direction.

  "Mediator?" the General asked again.

  "Whores?" she growled then, feeling every part of her body quaking with the magic. If she used too much, she would be near death once more. She had to stay careful. She had to stay under control. For her sake, and for theirs. "You want whores?"

  The General rose to his feet. He was tall and handsome. "How I run my army is none of your concern, my Lord. It is good for the morale of the men."

  And the burning, raping, and murdering that happened outside of the camp wasn't enough for them?

  Eryn stopped walking, the hood of her cloak shifting as she glanced at the scene around her. Some of the women had tears in their eyes. Others had come to accept their new place in life.

  She noticed the minstrels positioned behind the General now, standing in the shadows. They had stopped playing when he had spoken, to make his words more
easily heard. Her heart found a new rate when she realized she knew two of them.

  Robar and Sena.

  Alive.

  "If whores are what your men desire," she said, the words coming slowly as she held against the pressure that threatened to explode from inside. She lifted her hands to her hood, taking the edges and lowering it slowly. "A Whore is what they will have."

  The General opened his mouth to say something. An order for his men? A warning? A cry of fear?

  It never escaped him.

  "Ignatus," Eryn whispered, unleashing the power at last.

  A dozen magical bolts crossed the distance between her and the General. The ircidium armor he wore deflected most of them, but it only took one to spear him through his open mouth and explode out the back of his head. Dozens more of the missiles appeared at Eryn's sides, launching from her and striking the soldiers. Some of the women screamed while others rushed to grab the swords as the soldiers fell dead around them.

  The men waiting outside heard the screams and began to rush into the tent. Eryn whirled on them, her eyes burning with the magic. She held her hands out to them and whispered, and more of the bolts flowed forth and struck them.

  An alarm began to sound right outside the tent but stopped only seconds later.

  The next one into the tent was Worm, a bloody knife in his hand.

  "Free the minstrels," Eryn said coldly as she walked towards the front of the tent. There was an entire army to deal with outside.

  Worm stared at her for a moment before moving to the back of the tent. One of the women approached Eryn from her right. She was naked and bleeding, her eye bruised and her lip cut. She had a sword in her hand.

  "I was there," she said. "In Elling with you and Silas Morningstar. I thought you had abandoned us."

  "No. We never abandoned you. The rebellion is growing in the west, and I'm on my way to kill him. I'm sorry."

  "Don't be sorry, my Lady. Sorry won't bring my family back."

  "Or mine," Eryn said.

  The woman nodded. "Kill them. Kill them all."