The Chaos Crystal

by Jennifer Fallon

  'I'm not going to help you murder several thousand innocent souls as a "gesture of good faith",' Declan Hawkes announced.

  'Why not?' Cayal asked. 'They're out there murdering each other at the moment.' He turned to Elyssa with a reassuring smile. 'Pay no attention to him. He's still operating under the delusion that he's mortal.'

  She frowned at him. 'He's right, though. If we break the ice without warning, a lot of creatures are going to die.'

  Cayal stared at her evenly. 'When all is said and done, Lyssie, do you care?'

  Elyssa barely hesitated. 'No.'

  Warlock wasn't surprised by her answer, but it firmed his resolve. He was done with this; done with these immortals and the intrigues of the Cabal. The very man who stood in the clearing, not twenty feet from where he was hiding — who had now joined their ranks — had recruited him to spy on Jaxyn, and then Elyssa. He'd endangered his family, and done nothing to stop the rise of the suzerain. Somewhere north of the city Warlock's mate and his pups were alone and defenceless while he was here — not saving them from their enemies, but helping them along.

  And if he walked out there and exposed himself to Cayal or Declan Hawkes, he wouldn't last more than a few minutes, because Elyssa would kill him where he stood the moment one of them let it slip — either by accident or deliberate intent — that her favourite Crasii was a Scard.

  But with Cayal here, Warlock realised, for a short time at least Elyssa was probably preoccupied enough for him to get away.

  It took little more thought than that. Without waiting to hear the rest of their plans, and with infinite care, Warlock turned and crept backwards through the snow-covered undergrowth, away from the clearing, away from the immortals who would no longer be allowed to rule his life. As he fled, he discovered a greater sense of freedom than when the Duchess of Lebec had handed him a pardon and he'd walked away from the grim walls of the prison in Lebec.

  CHAPTER 25

  Stellan couldn't bear to imagine how many felines — some of them he'd probably bred and raised himself — were burned in the initial conflagration that announced the start of hostilities between Caelum and Glaeba.

  He'd watched the battle from the vantage of the balcony outside the Ladies Walk of Cycrane Palace before the fires went up, but the sound of so many felines dying had driven him down here eventually, away from Syrolee and her murderous glee, Engarhod's inebriated indifference, and Queen Jilna of Caelum's inexplicable apathy. Although she'd been posturing about how old she was now and how, as heir to the throne, she should be involved in defending her country, Nyah had watched for a short time and then fled to her room, unable to bear the carnage.

  Amplifying his distress even more was the news that Arkady and her father were out there on the ice with Jaxyn. The Glaeban envoy who'd delivered the formal surrender demand earlier this morning had made a point of delivering that message for the former Duke of Lebec. He'd had little time to wonder what Arkady's reaction might have been when she discovered he'd lied to her about her father's death, all those years ago. It was another unforgivable sin, he supposed, in a lifetime littered with them. Stellan could imagine the glee, however, with which Jaxyn had composed the demand informing his former lover that if he didn't surrender

  Caelum immediately and unconditionally, Arkady would be put to death.

  Tryan, of course, had laughed in the envoy's face and told him to tell Jaxyn to go ahead and murder whomever he wanted. Stellan Desean was a guest in this country and did not have the authority to surrender on Caelum's behalf, even if he was so inclined.

  Fortunately, Stellan wasn't there for that particular exchange, and was relieved beyond measure that the decision had been taken from his hands. He knew that with the throne of Glaeba at stake, he couldn't let sentiment get in the way. With the decision to ignore Jaxyn's ultimatum one step removed from him, it somehow made the knowledge that he would have answered no differently, had he been given the chance, a little easier to live with.

  They wouldn't let him take a direct hand in the fighting, of course — his position in Caelum was too ambiguous to allow that — but his plan to disrupt the Glaeban forces had worked devastatingly well. The oil channelled from the tar seeps onto the ice had gone undetected, as Stellan suspected it would. Jaxyn, had he been leading his forces rather than watching them from his decorative platform behind the front ranks with his immortal allies, Arkady and her father — assuming they hadn't been murdered on the spot when Tryan refused Jaxyn's ultimatum — might have realised the purpose of the oil-filled channels. But the Crasii who made up the bulk of his army weren't under orders to notice things like that. They'd been told to march and fight and because it was an immortal who told them to march and fight, they had no choice but to obey. No feline was going to stop along the way to wonder why there was oil on the ice.

  The walls of fire that shot up when Elyssa ignited the oil-filled channels had panicked the Glaeban forces

  so comprehensively that it took hours to get them back under control.

  And therein lay the problem. They were under immortal control. A human army, or even a Crasii army commanded by humans, had a degree of free will not available to these creatures who were magically compelled to obey their masters. In a thousand years, no war had been fought like this. No battle had been engaged in living memory where the combatants didn't have the option to withdraw in the face of unthinkable carnage.

  Jaxyn had numerical superiority, to be sure, and he was using it like a sledgehammer. Despite the dead, despite the burned and wounded Crasii crying out for help as their compatriots stepped over them to claw their opponents to death, the magically-compelled army just kept on coming.

  It sickened Stellan to watch the slaughter. His disgust was made even worse by the knowledge their own Crasii warriors were similarly compelled. Ranee and Krydence were down there on the ice, sending rank after rank of felines into the fray — felines who had no choice but to do as their immortal masters commanded. The Caelish had human soldiers in reserve, but Stellan couldn't imagine that any mortal man with his wits about him would willingly advance into the bloodbath taking place out there on the ice, once the smoke cleared and the battle engaged.

  It was easily the worst day of Stellan's life, and given some of the things he'd been through recently, that was really saying something. As the sun began to dip below the palace turrets, the battle raged on as it had relentlessly for the better part of a day, with little progress on either side. Jaxyn's forces kept corning; their own forces had somehow managed to hold them off. But they couldn't hold them off for much longer and their human reserves were already reduced by

  almost a third due to desertions by sensible men who could tell a lost cause when they saw one.

  'How long does Lord Krydence estimate we have before we must use the rest of the human reserves?' Stellan asked the messenger sent from the front lines to the palace. Stellan had intercepted him on the way there, in the hope of getting some intelligence not filtered through Syrolee's optimistic faith in her son's ability to prosecute a war successfully. The poor creature looked ragged, but he was here under immortal orders and probably would have scaled the outside walls of the palace to deliver his message, had he been told to do so.

  'Less than an hour, your grace,' the canine informed him, shivering in the chilly wind, even though he was running to keep up with Stellan as the duke hurried through the twisting Cycrane streets toward the command post. 'Lord Krydence says that unless the Glaebans intend to stop at sunset, by midnight Cycrane will be overrun.'

  'Tell Lord Krydence we understand his dilemma and will send reinforcements as soon as possible.'

  Maybe, he added silently to himself. If I can convince Tryan to release the human reserves.

  Stellan couldn't understand why the immortal hadn't done that yet, which was much of the reason he was on his way to the command post.

  The canine bowed and ran off in the direction of Krydence. Stellan, feeling utterly helpless, shouldered hi
s way forward through the press of human troops and wounded felines until he reached the building Tryan had chosen for his vantage to command the battle. He couldn't understand how this fight had gone on as long as it had without calling up their reserves. Their forces should have been utterly decimated long before now.

  He took the steps of the wooden building two at a time, surprised to find Tryan alone on the balcony of the wharfside brothel he'd selected as his headquarters.

  'Ah, Desean, come to watch the fun?'

  'It's a massacre out there, my lord. Can't you do something?'

  The Tide Lord shrugged. 'Do what, exactly?'

  Stellan frowned; he gripped the balcony, feeling the cold seep through his leather gloves. It was even worse from here. He could smell the blood and the smoke and hear the screams of the dying. He could even make out Jaxyn's observation platform, but he was too far away to identify individuals, so he had no way of knowing if Arkady or her father were still alive. Glancing down, Stellan saw several wounded felines he'd noticed on the way here, heading back out onto the ice. 'I don't know ... something?'

  Tryan looked at Stellan oddly for a moment and then shook his head in wonder. 'Tides, you know!'

  'I beg your pardon?'

  'You sneaky little bastard,' the immortal said, his eyes narrowing. 'You know who we are, don't you? That's what you're asking. Not if I can think of some brilliant military tactic to save the day — you want to know if I can do something with the Tide.'

  Stellan debated denying the accusation, or pretending he didn't understand. Then he realised how futile that would be. He met Tryan's eye and said evenly, 'Well, can you?'

  'We are doing something with the Tide, Desean. Why is it, do you think, that we still have an army after almost a full day of this fighting?'

  'You're helping them by using Tide magic?' Stellan asked.

  The Prince Consort shook his head. 'We're bringing them back to life using Tide magic. Only ever works with the felines, for some reason, and you can't go on doing it indefinitely. But I believe that's where the idea that felines have more than one life comes from.'

  Stellan stared at him in horror. 'You mean you're resurrecting the Crasii to make them fight?'

  Tryan nodded as if it was nothing in the least bit remarkable. 'The problem, of course, is that Jaxyn's doing exactly the same thing with his felines. This could go on for days, you know, before one of us gets tired of it.'

  Stellan was speechless. Tides, those poor creatures.

  'Oh, don't look at me like that,' Tryan said. 'They're only animals, Desean. You'd not rather have me killing the good citizens of Caelum over this, would you?'

  Stellan didn't know what to say. Nothing in his experience had prepared him for this. 'Isn't there something else — something less cruel — you can do?'

  'Of course there is, but Jaxyn would just retaliate in kind and we'd be no better off than we are now. How long have you known who we are?'

  'Since before I left Glaeba.'

  'And you never said a word. I've underestimated you, Desean.'

  'People often do,' Stellan replied with a helpless shrug. 'Why can't you do anything to stop this butchery? There are a half-dozen of you here and only two or three immortals on Jaxyn's side. Surely you can overwhelm them?'

  Tryan considered Stellan for a moment before answering. When he did speak, he was much more forthcoming than Stellan expected. 'Of the half-dozen of us here, Desean, only my sister and I can wield the sort of power needed to put an abrupt end to this conflict, and we'd have to do it before Jaxyn realised what we were up to.'

  'Do you fear he has spies among us?' Stellan asked, wondering if Tryan knew about Scards like Warlock.

  But apparently the Tide Lord didn't fear mere mortals. He shook his head. 'He can feel us on the Tide, and I suspect the only reason he's limited himself to regenerating his felines up 'til now is because he can sense that Elyssa isn't close by, so he's in no danger of us teaming up against him.'

  Stellan was confused. 'So you command the Tide and yet your powers cancel each other out? Where's the use in that?'

  Tryan shrugged. 'I share your frustration, your grace, but believe me, unless we can take Jaxyn by surprise there is nothing to be gained by calling down the full force of the rising Tide, unless you plan to be lord and master of a graveyard once the battle is won. Clearly, you know something of us, but you need to understand that our power is elemental. I can't magically increase the size of our army, or make better weapons appear, but I can easily call up a wind that would blow Jaxyn's army back to Glaeba. Such a wind would likely kill our people and flatten Cycrane in the process and cause a natural disaster in somewhere like Stevania, on the other side of the world. But if you really want me to try ...'

  'So there's nothing you can do,' Stellan concluded, turning back to watch the fight. Tides, is there anything worse than the sound of a dying feline? Other than hearing her dying over and over again?

  'There's plenty I could do,' Tryan said. 'Just nothing that won't make things worse.'

  'So ... what? You're just going to let him win?'

  Tryan seemed unconcerned. 'He hasn't won yet, Desean. We still have our human reserves to throw into the battle. Once we take the fight to the streets, Jaxyn may find the going a little tougher.'

  Tryan's casual disregard for the feline lives already repeatedly lost this day left Stellan filled with impotent rage, not to mention a sense of futility that had nothing to do with this battle. The sick notion of making dead creatures fight on and on notwithstanding — even if a miracle occurred and they managed to carry the day — Jaxyn had brought the fight to Caelum. Stellan's main concern was — and always had been — the security of the Glaeban throne.

  If these Tide Lords opposing Jaxyn were unable to protect Caelum from him, how were they supposed to help Stellan take back Glaeba?

  'You do realise that it was Jaxyn who caused the Great Lakes to freeze?' Stellan said to Tryan, deciding to try a different tack. 'How is it he did that and you couldn't feel him using the Tide?'

  'Because he was very very careful,' Tryan said. 'We'd have felt it if the lakes froze overnight, but they didn't. It took weeks. If Jaxyn was responsible for it, he was disturbing the Tide as little as possible in order to make it look natural.'

  Stellan wished now that he'd confessed sooner to knowing the truth about the immortals. Perhaps then he could have said something about it. He might have warned Tryan and Elyssa that his contacts in the Cabal knew Jaxyn was responsible. Maybe then they could have done something to halt the freeze. Or melt the ice. Stellan didn't know enough about Tide magic to speculate what they might have been able to do, only that he probably should have said something.

  'Are you sure there's no way to melt the ice?' he asked.

  'Not quickly,' Tryan said. 'And unless you took him by surprise, Jaxyn would find a way to retaliate.'

  'But if two of you working together are more powerful than —'

  'Then he won't try to fight us head-on. He'll do something else, like make the brains of every man in Cycrane explode out of his ears or something equally harrowing — something we'd have to stop melting the ice to counter. Tides, do you think we're like magicians from some children's story who stand there hurling lightning bolts at each other?' Tryan laughed sourly. 'If it were that simple, why would sorcerers need mortal armies to fight their battles for them?'

  Stellan had been wondering the same thing. He gripped the balcony railing in frustration, a little

  surprised to feel it trembling through his gloves. Tides, how much of this carnage is my fault? he wondered.

  Oh, Arkady, have I killed you too, with my ambition?

  The trembling increased. Stellan registered that fact about the same time that Tryan suddenly looked up, his expression confused and more than a little worried. 'What the ...?'

  The immortal never got a chance to finish his question. Without warning, a crack boomed across the ice, so loud it sounded like the world had been
sundered in two. For a moment, even the fighting stopped. And then Stellan saw what had caused the sound and gasped — a large fissure had appeared in the ice without warning or any logical explanation.

  Down on the ice, Krydence and Ranee had the wit to call their troops back as soon as they realised the ice was about to go, but Jaxyn, further from the action, couldn't see what those higher up could see. The cracks spread like a virus, spider-webbing across the ice sheet, which seemed to be growing more translucent by the second.

  'What's happening?' Stellan called to Tryan over the shout of panic engendered by the sudden orders to withdraw. The felines that had — until a few moments ago — been trying to claw their opponents to death, were now slipping and sliding on the bloodstained ice, trying to reach the shore. 'Is it Tide magic?'

  'It's Tide magic, all right,' Tryan agreed, yelling to be heard over the ruckus. 'But it's not Jaxyn who's wielding it.'

  'Then who?'

  Tryan must have known the answer, although he seemed disinclined to share it with Stellan. The immortal started cursing savagely.

  And then the ice gave way.

  For a time, even Tryan's curses were overwhelmed by the sound of breaking ice and the screams from

  thousands of drowning felines. Stellan stared at the lake in horror. The cracks were spreading faster now and opening up to reveal the icy black water beneath, no longer needing magic to sustain their progress.

  'Arkady!' Stellan cried, but it was a useless, futile cry, lost amid the screams of dying Crasii.

  With alarming speed, the splintering cracks reached Jaxyn's sledded podium. A few seconds later, it tipped into the freezing water, taking all its occupants —human and immortal — with it, into the dark icy depths of the Lower Oran.

  CHAPTER 26

  It was evening before Arkady was game enough to stop. She ran — or rather stumbled — over the rough terrain for most of the day.

  Fear of pursuit shredded her nerves. Every snapped twig, every unexplained sound in the woods, had her jumping in fright. Even after almost a full day on the run, she still couldn't quite believe she'd managed to get away — or her good fortune that Jaxyn had appointed a Scard who happened to work for the Cabal to watch over her.