The Chaos Crystal

by Jennifer Fallon

  It wasn't fair, Arkady knew, to think that of either Declan or Tilly. Fear was making her vindictive.

  Tides, it's not Dedans fault. He never meant to become immortal.

  'When will we know it's time to enter the rift?' Arkady heard Arryl asking. She hadn't been paying attention to Lukys's lecture. All those details about focus, and channelling, and the rift and the altar meant nothing to her.

  'You won't need to worry about it,' Lukys assured her. 'Once you're close enough, the rift will pull you in.'

  'What if you don't want to go?' she heard Tiji ask unhappily.

  'Then you need to hang on to something solid, little lizard, or you'll be coming with us to the new world, whether you want to or not.'

  Tiji had nothing more to say about it after that. Lukys issued a few more instructions and the group dispersed to their positions around the chamber. Arkady didn't know why she was certain they'd moved, only that they had. She was surprised they were so composed. Somehow she imagined this

  occasion would be much more fraught, the participants much more edgy and tense. But they seemed quite calm.

  Is that because they've done this before? Or are they really so old, so inured to normal human emotion, that even the prospect of opening a rift to another world isn't enough to ruffle them?

  Arkady wished she could open her eyes. She wished she could see what was happening. For a time, there was silence, and then she heard Lukys ask: 'Are you ready?'

  'Any time you are,' Cayal replied. And then, without warning, Arkady's world exploded into pain.

  Arkady had no idea what was happening to her. She'd thought they hadn't begun yet. She believed she'd never be able to sense the Tide. But she could feel it now.

  The Chaos Crystal, which she assumed was somewhere nearby, was pulsing with a light Arkady could see, even through her paralysed eyes. It burned her retinas; her inability to open her eyes the only thing that saved her from instant blindness. She wanted to scream in agony, although she couldn't pinpoint exactly where the pain began and where it ended, any more than she could identify the cause.

  It seemed as if every square inch of her body had decided to catch fire independently of every other square inch, and simultaneously send messages to her brain screaming at her that she was in flames.

  She tried to cry out, but couldn't move her mouth. She wanted to writhe with agony, but couldn't move her body. She wanted to weep with terror, but couldn't shed a tear.

  Someone else screamed, close by, yelling for Lukys. A woman's voice. One she didn't recognise. Then, through her own pain, Arkady heard Cayal shriek, a

  sound of such torment and pathos that it tore at her soul.

  Just as abruptly, he fell silent.

  Even through the agony, Arkady wondered if that meant Cayal had achieved his aim and if finally, this time, his cries were silenced forever ...

  She had no time to lament his passing, however.

  No sooner had the sound of Cayal's torment faded than she heard Lukys shout something and a moment later, Arkady felt a strange pressure against her mind, as if an intruder was pushing on the door to her thoughts and she had to lean on it to stop them gaining a foothold.

  Suddenly the pain, the prospect of impending death ... all of those things became secondary to survival.

  But not physical survival. Arkady found herself fighting for possession of herself.

  Lukys had lied, Arkady realised, as she fought back with every ounce of strength she owned against the pressure in her mind. He'd lied to Cayal about not attempting to transfer Elyssa's mind.

  Arkady didn't have the time to care if he'd lied about this being Cayal's only chance to die. She had other, more urgent concerns. Because whether or not Cayal lived or died, Arkady was engaged in a life-and- death battle for dominion over her very soul.

  CHAPTER 59

  Declan ran into the palace with Warlock on his heels and, much to Warlock's amazement, nobody tried to stop them. There were supposed to be Crasii in the palace — clearly they weren't guarding it — but he saw no sign of anybody, immortal, human, or Crasii, as he pounded after Hawkes.

  There was no time to admire the immensity of the place, or marvel at its construction. Instead, he followed Hawkes along a confusing series of ice-carved corridors and down a treacherously slippery staircase to the lower levels. They kept on running, past a whole labyrinth of storerooms and then, when Warlock was convinced Hawkes had no idea where he was, they plunged down another set of stairs, lit with a sickly green light, where they ran into an anteroom blocked by a wall of crumbled ice.

  Hawkes swore savagely for a moment, punching the wall with his fist.

  'Can't you use the Tide to break it?' Warlock asked, examining the barrier closely. Unlike the finesse that had gone into creating the rest of the palace, this crude but effective wall seemed to have been created by bringing down a part of the ceiling. It wasn't done magically, Warlock surmised. The ice was jagged and rough and piled in a heap against the opening.

  'I think the Tide will just make things worse,' Declan said, frowning. 'If all those immortals channelling the Tide above us can't crack it, this much closer to the crystal ... I don't like our chances.'

  Tides, all that magical power they're so enamoured with, and they can't do a damned thing useful with it ... Then we're going to have to break it down the hard way.'

  'What do you mean?'

  'This barrier wasn't magicked into existence using the Tide, Hawkes. They sealed the chamber the hard way, with pickaxes.'

  'How could you possibly know that?'

  Warlock pointed to the tools lying on the floor near the foot of the stairs. There was a pickaxe and a crowbar, both partially buried under the ice, as if they'd been abandoned in a hurry. 'Just a hunch.'

  Hawkes swore again and scooped up the pick handle, jerked it free and tossed it to Warlock, before turning his attention to the crowbar. 'We don't have much time.'

  Warlock couldn't argue with that. Even he could feel the vibration down here, and not only because they were channelling the Tide. The ground was actually shaking.

  Whatever they were doing inside that chamber, Hawkes was right about one thing — it wasn't looking good for anyone on the outside.

  He slammed the pickaxe into the ice, pulling away chunks of it, as Hawkes worked the crowbar free and began to do the same. The wall resisted their attempts to dismantle it, however. Every inch of progress they made was hard fought, every inroad they made into the ice, seemingly not enough to do any good.

  Warlock soon lost track of time. He had no idea how long they hacked away at the ice. His shoulders burned and his hands had begun to blister before the light changed a little on the other side and they were rewarded with some hint their efforts were not in vain.

  The ice, where it was thinnest, had taken on a decidedly rosy hue.

  Panting with exhaustion, Warlock lowered his pick- axe and bent over for a moment, trying to regain his

  breath. The ground was no longer trembling; it was fairly shuddering.

  'We're nearly through!' Hawkes exclaimed, raising the crowbar for the final blow that would break through the wall.

  'Wait!'

  Mid-blow, the spymaster hesitated and turned to look at him. 'What's the matter?'

  'What's going to happen when you break through?' 'I don't know.' 'Good plan.'

  Hawkes lowered the crowbar and stared at him. 'Got a better idea?'

  Warlock nodded, drawing in deep breaths of the icy air. 'You can probably withstand whatever we release when we break the wall, but I won't.'

  Hawkes thought about that for a moment and then nodded in agreement. 'You're right. Get out of here. I'll break it down and go in.'

  'To do what?'

  'Whatever it takes to end this,' Hawkes said, a little impatiently. 'Tides, Warlock, you're having doubts about this now?'

  We have the will to do whatever it takes, Boots had said to him back in Hidden Valley, to see as many immortals as possible pe
rish in that rift when they open it.

  What if it really does destroy Amyrantha in the process?

  He remembered her eyes shining in the darkness. Think of a future where your own children are destined to betray you to the suzerain, Warlock, and then tell me you wouldn't rather see an end to this world than wait for that to happen.

  Warlock blinked way the memory and looked Hawkes in the eye. 'I have no doubts, spymaster. I know exactly why I'm here. I'm coming with you.'

  'Then let's finish this thing,' Hawkes said, raising the crowbar. 'Get down.'

  Warlock did as Hawkes suggested, crouching down behind the rubble they'd hacked from the wall. Declan slammed the crowbar into the ice twice more, and the wall split open.

  A wave of intense heat exploded out of the small opening, filling the outer chamber with a fierce red light, melting away much of the debris they'd dislodged. Hawkes was thrown back onto the stairs behind them with the force of the heatwave, landing with a crack that sounded horribly like the noise of his backbone breaking.

  The ground was shaking even harder. Hawkes screamed out in agony. If his back was broken, it was also healing again, and it was exceedingly painful.

  Ignoring Hawkes — he was immortal, after all, and would recover — Warlock staggered to his feet and managed to climb up the slick ice to the opening and look into the chamber. A moment later Hawkes joined him. Unharmed.

  Together they gazed through the opening into the swirling, hellish nightmare that was the ice cavern. It seemed as if the very air in the cavern was a spinning red hurricane, like blood swirling down a drain.

  It was hard to make out anything precisely. There seemed to be figures evenly spaced around the chamber. Near the altar in the centre there were several more people Warlock couldn't immediately identify. One of them — a naked male — lay at the foot of the altar and appeared to be either unconscious or dead. There was a woman curled on the floor beside him, and behind the altar, standing with his arms held wide, a white-haired man Warlock guessed must the legendary Lukys.

  Then he spied another creature cowering in the shadow of the altar. Warlock would have sworn it was a chameleon Scard if he didn't know better.

  For a moment, both Tide Lord and canine were too overwhelmed by the sight before them to react to it, but then something moved on the blocky altar in the

  centre of the room. There was a woman lying on it, her back arched so fiercely they could see her face from here, screaming in such torment it made Warlock's soul bleed to hear her cries.

  Beside him, Hawkes went rigid.

  'Tides,' he said, 'that's Arkady.'

  CHAPTER 60

  Hawkes was clambering down the ice and running across the chamber before Warlock could stop him. He cursed under his breath and scrambled after him, certain no good could come of charging into such a maelstrom without any forethought, and trying to interrupt the proceedings.

  Warlock couldn't feel the Tide — not the magic of it, at least. But he could see it, or this hellish manifestation of it, filling the circular chamber with its sinister, swirling red light. And it terrified him.

  Declan Hawkes reached the altar ahead of Warlock and pulled Arkady from it. That's when Warlock realised Elyssa was there too, lying on the floor, staring blankly at the ceiling as if she had no notion of what was going on around her.

  At Lukys's feet lay another unconscious woman, next to the body of a rat. The Immortal Prince lay on his side on the floor by the altar, naked and apparently dead, but still holding on to the glowing red skull, which pulsed with a deep, crimson, malevolent light. Crouched in the shelter of the altar was Tiji, Hawkes's little pet chameleon, wearing a thick fur coat and a look of abject terror.

  Lukys tried to stop Declan from rescuing Arkady. Warlock ignored that scuffle to concentrate on the source of the trouble — the Chaos Crystal.

  He turned to Tiji, wondering what she was doing here; hoping she knew what was going on.

  'How do I stop it?' he shouted, hoping she could

  hear him over the howling wind that tore around and around the chamber.

  'I don't know!' she shouted back. 'Just don't drop it! If you drop it, you'll kill everybody!'

  That was good enough for Warlock. That's why he was here, after all. If Cayal was dead, then the others could die too. He glanced across at Hawkes, but he was too busy struggling with Arkady and Lukys to notice what Warlock was up to.

  We have the will to do whatever it takes, Boots's voice echoed in his mind, to see as many immortals as possible perish in that rift when they open it.

  What if it really does destroy Amyrantha in the process?

  Warlock stared at the crystal skull, its red eyes glaring at him. Tides, can one creature make such a decision on behalf of an entire world?

  The answer was there already, waiting for him to ask the question. Think of a future where your own children are destined to betray you to the suzerain, Warlock, and then tell me you wouldn't rather see an end to this world than wait for that to happen.

  He needed no further urging. Determined and filled with a sense of complete rightness, Warlock snatched the crystal from Cayal's unresisting fingers and rose to his feet. The movement caught Lukys's eye.

  He shoved Declan away and lunged for Warlock, screaming: 'Noooo!'

  Warlock stepped back, out of his reach, and raised the burning crystal skull over his head and then, with every ounce of force he could muster, smashed it into the floor.

  For a moment, nothing happened. The skull didn't shatter. It simply bounced a few times and then rolled to a stop at the base of the altar where it wedged under the lip of the plinth.

  Warlock stared at it, more than a little disappointed. He glanced at Tiji, who seemed just as puzzled.

  And then, above them, the swirling red vortex began to narrow, contracting to a point above the altar. Warlock stared at it in fear.

  Was this the rift to another world the immortals had been talking off

  Tides, have I opened it by mistake?

  As if in answer to his silent question, the wind picked up, the sound of it howling through the chamber. Cracks appeared in the roof and on the polished permafrost beneath Warlock's feet. Warlock grabbed Tiji by the arm and dragged her away from the black maw that was growing in the centre of the red vortex, sucking everything to it.

  Those nearest the vortex weren't so lucky; it swallowed them like a hungry monster. Lukys, Cayal's inert body, the woman lying at the base of the altar near where Lukys had been standing a moment ago. Then Hawkes lost his grip on Arkady and he vanished as well. Warlock shielded his eyes, turning away from the gluttonous whirlpool that was indiscriminately devouring everything in its path.

  Averting their faces from the maelstrom, Warlock and Tiji tried to flee the sucking power of the rift, but the shaking ground was starting to split. Above them, the ceiling cracked even wider, exposing the chamber to daylight.

  Breaking the chamber open did nothing to stop the vortex; nothing to halt the relentless forces dragging Amyrantha into ruin. Some of the immortals in the chamber ran toward it, some seemed frozen in place. But whichever direction Warlock looked, the world seemed to be breaking apart.

  'Tides, you stupid dog,' Tiji shouted at him as the floor began to give way. 'What have you done?'

  He never had a chance to answer her. The floor cracked open beside him and, without warning, the little lizard Scard was gone, swallowed by the yawning chasm that had opened beneath her.

  Warlock stared after her in shock, the dawning realisation that this really might be the end of everything, suddenly settling on his shoulders like the weight of the world, as if it had decided to rest there for a moment on its way to complete annihilation.

  Panic filled Warlock, temporarily paralysing him. He needed to close the rift, he realised, but had no idea how. He needed to put an end to that vortex; the sucking whirlpool was tearing Amyrantha apart.

  He glanced at the pulsating Chaos Crystal, the engine driving the vor
tex. On his hands and knees, Warlock crawled back toward the altar, back toward the crystal skull that lay jammed beneath it, spewing out the rage of the universe and venting it on his world.

  It took every bit of strength Warlock owned to reach the altar; more strength than he thought he possessed to free the crystal while resisting the pull of the rapidly expanding vortex that swirled overhead, swallowing everything within its reach.

  Finally jerking the crystal skull free, Warlock held it up. With a final silent apology to Boots, he closed his eyes, certain that if he'd achieved nothing else here today, he was going to create the future Boots wanted from him — a future where no child of his would ever be subject to the whim or the orders of an immortal.

  Then he opened his hand and let it go.

  The vortex swallowed the Chaos Crystal whole.

  Warlock felt nothing after that.

  CHAPTER 61

  Stellan felt the cavern go and staggered back across the ice to escape the collapsing ceiling of the underground chamber. He had no notion of what might be happening down there, only that it involved forces he couldn't begin to imagine.

  With the ice shuddering beneath him, Stellan ran for the slight rise overlooking the palace, hoping it was far enough away to escape the worst of the damage. He wasn't sure if Declan and Warlock had succeeded in their attempt to stop Lukys opening the rift, but he was certain they'd done something dire. The palace itself seemed to be moving now, and for some reason, heavy dark clouds were gathering overhead, bellowing with thunder and streaked with jagged lightning.

  Kinta managed to scramble free beside him and together they made a run for it. It was hard to tell, with the thunder above them and the screaming wind emanating from the underground chamber, if any of the others had managed to get clear.