Bones of the Empire

by Jim Galford

  Chuckling, the skeleton scraped the tips of his fingers on the stone walls. “I did, Estin. I truly did hate your people. Turess gave his empire to one of you out of love rather than rational thought. I had to make her disappear. He died believing she betrayed him, but she never did. Try as I did, I never managed to make her turn on him. Lies and torture could not break her spirit. I ended up having to simply get rid of her. I see that same devotion in many of your kind, and I have no patience for it. When I look in your eyes, all I can see is that bitch, preparing to take what was rightfully mine.

  “That is not why I kill your kind or why I drive my people to do so. Liris believed that we were hunting your people to prevent the prophecy from coming to pass, but even she had no idea. I believe your friend Raeln has shown her what I hid for all these years.”

  Pointing toward the mists, Dorralt went on. “Look into the first hole opened between the realms by my brother. I tore it back open to draw magic through to empower myself. In there you will see the one I used to create all of my children. Life’s blood was required. Her blood created us and it can destroy us. I had you hunted to protect my kind. My original generals could resist your blood, but the younger like Liris cannot. Your people were a threat I needed neutralized before you were used against us. Our enemies would have killed all of your kind to gain weapons against us, had they known your blood was key. I considered it a mercy to strike first.”

  Estin hesitantly moved toward the mists, trying not to get any closer than he had to. With each step, something within the mists became clearer, and the screams in his mind became more real. By the time he was standing in front of the cloud, Estin could both see the person within and hear her screams in his mind, echoed by the voices that were the conduits for his magic. It was as though the mists were amplifying her screams into the heart of Eldvar’s magic.

  A snow leopard wildling hung within, her body shaking violently as the mists attempted to tear her apart and somehow failed. Burns and cuts would flash across her arms and legs, only to vanish a second later in the ever-changing flow of the glowing cloud. Arcing lightning raced around her, even as her fingers, toes, and tail were stretched to their limits, trying to get to anything in the void she occupied. Through the long seconds Estin watched, her mouth remained locked in a scream that never seemed to end.

  “Kharali…or Kerrelin if you prefer.” Dorralt relaxed somewhat at the foot of the stairs. “I needed someone who would be tortured for all of time, whose body would be on the verge of death for centuries. I cast her into the mists and used some very delicate magics to hold her there, unable to die or escape.

  “Though I chose her out of revenge initially, during the century I was trapped here, I found a new use for her. Her blood made the very poison we used to kill everyone in Altis and many other cities. Using it sped my creation of an army, though it left us open to the threat of wildlings’ blood being used against us. It also meant that some of you were immune to the effects. You I can hear in my mind as one of my children, even though the poison never took your life. I cannot control you, but your very existence nagged at the edge of my thoughts. I want you dead, if only because you defy me with every moment you live on. You and I are bound in a sense.

  “Aside from wildlings, the weak-willed who I poison simply die, while the magically inclined become my children. I had long thought I had no use for Kharali, but this proved me wrong. It is also why I have let you live over and over. I needed someone with an equal will to live. I needed someone strong of heart and mind who would never give up and die.”

  Estin’s skin went cold as he put the pieces together. “You’re going to put me in there?”

  “Yes, that is one of my plans, though I actually meant your wife. Kharali’s body is dying despite the way the mists alter time around her. I have perhaps another century or two before she is ripped apart. Now that the magic is tuned to her, I needed another wildling. You came here and presented yourself. You will be the new sacrifice for our magic. It will be you in there for the next millennia. That is why I would not fully exterminate your kind. I needed a few wildlings, and I needed them strong. You walked yourself right to my doorstep, despite the pain I inflicted on you.”

  Backing away, Estin reached for his swords, only to find his sheaths empty.

  “You lost those earlier,” Dorralt reminded him. “You will also find that this close to the mists, your magic will be weakened. Even the dragons will not come down here. Putting up a fight is beyond your ability now, Estin. Down here, you are at my mercy. Even I am weakened by the mists, which is the reason I remain in my tomb, using others’ bodies to travel the world. Until I grow far stronger, this body cannot force its way from the cave without the mists tearing it apart. The Miharon has seen to it that I will not walk the surface again for hundreds of years. Longer, if the dragons keep tearing apart my children.”

  Estin searched the room for anywhere he could go. Without the stairs, the only other way out was the well far above. Taking that as his next possible option, Estin leaped at the wall, caught the rough stones with his claws, and climbed as quickly as he could. He made it no more than ten feet before boney hands closed on his tail. They yanked him off the wall, slamming him to the floor hard enough that he nearly blacked out.

  Rolling as fast as he could to avoid Dorralt’s hands, Estin scrambled away as he nearly brushed the mists. Getting to his feet, he rounded on Dorralt, summoning all of his strength in a rush of magic. He unleashed what he intended to be little more than a burst of healing energy, meant to injure undead. Instead, Estin’s hand erupted with light and heat that nearly blinded him. A roar like that of the dragons outside filled his mind, drowning out the voices of the spirits, as the magic lit the room.

  Holding his ground, Dorralt stopped the entire blast with his skeletal hand, forcing the magic to split around him. Huge sections of stone crumbled to ash behind him, but he did not budge. The bones of Dorralt’s fingers dissolved in the magic. After several seconds, the spell fell apart, and Estin stumbled, exhausted. For all the power of the dragons, Dorralt was still too strong.

  “Your friends are almost here,” Dorralt said, coming forward quickly to hoist Estin off the ground by his neck. “I want your wife to see you put into the mists. The first few seconds are exquisite, as your heart stops beating. She will…”

  Shouts came from nearby. Chuckling, Dorralt hurriedly walked to the edge of the mist and held Estin up beside it, close enough that they burned and froze his back and tail. Despite the pain and his best efforts, Estin could not manage to budge Dorralt’s grip on him. All he could do was pull his tail close to his body in an effort to keep it away from the mists.

  “Hello, Feanne,” Dorralt said, shifting enough that Estin could see her standing at the foot of the steps beside Raeln. “Stop right there and have the others do the same. I have been down here long enough that I find talking preferable to battle.”

  Feanne froze where she was. Raeln moved off to one side of the steps and Yoska the other. Estin struggled even harder, knowing he was about to be used as a pawn against his own friends and family.

  “Let me explain how this is going to work,” Dorralt continued, moving Estin a hair closer to the mist. His entire back sizzled and ached as the sparking cloud clawed at him, trying to rip both his magic and his life from him. “Estin here is going to help me, and you are not going to interfere.”

  Feanne laughed and stepped forward, spreading her fingers as she readied herself to attack. “Give me a reason why I would let you hurt him.”

  Wordlessly, Dorralt shoved Estin fully into the mist and pulled him back out. In that moment, Estin’s heart skipped several beats, and his whole body burned as though he had been dragged through a bonfire in the middle of a snowstorm. He shook uncontrollably, no longer able to force himself to keep clawing at Dorralt’s hand. He could only hang limply from the man’s hand and struggle to breathe.

  “You cannot kill me,” Dorralt explained, pointing at Raeln a
s he spoke. “The wolf has likely told you how to kill our kind, and I can assure you that it will not work, at least not quickly. Given long enough, you might manage to use a wildling’s lifeblood against me and bring me down. I have more than enough time before you can reach me to shove your mate into the mists. Without my protection, he will be consumed by them. With my help, he can survive at the edge of the mists for years. He will be in agony, but he will live.

  “I have watched you through many eyes, Feanne, and I know that your love of him will keep hope alive that you can find some way to save him later. You will let me do this, or his neck will break and he will be cast into the mists to be torn apart. You cannot save someone who is dead or dying elsewhere, just as you could not save your son. Consider that a lesson in crossing me. You will allow me to inflict the worst imaginable agony on the one you love because you believe you will succeed in the end. You will let me put Estin in the mists.”

  Feanne’s expression hardened immediately, but she grabbed Raeln’s wrist and pushed him back toward the steps. “Stay by the stairs. This is between Dorralt and I now. My family has been threatened. I want no one else entering this cavern.”

  “And so we arrive at an impasse,” Dorralt muttered, turning his attention back to Estin. “Care to talk her out of the stupidity I assume she will attempt next?”

  Estin smiled and looked past Dorralt, knowing things were about to get ugly, as stealthy shapes slipped along the wall to either side. A good death meant dying for what he believed in, for his family and friends. This would be an exceptional death if he had seen those figures in the shadows properly. One of them should not have been walking around, but Estin was well past questioning anything.

  “No. I’ll let her do whatever she wants,” he managed to choke out, smiling. “You’re going to die, Dorralt. With or without me, she will kill you.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Lost”

  The explosion of raw energy from the ghost-wolf’s cry shattered the magical barrier around Dorralt, knocking Raeln and the others back a few steps. Before he had even regained his balance, let alone thought about what to do next, Feanne slammed into Dorralt’s side. She caused him to stumble enough that he narrowly missed crushing Estin’s skull with his fist.

  Furious at himself for faltering, Raeln ran for Dorralt, while Estin fell to the ground and scurried away, trying to get out from underfoot. Dorralt shouted something at Estin, but Raeln ignored it. He reached Dorralt as he raised his hand high, the air condensing into white-hot magic around his fingers. He aimed another punch at Feanne’s head as she was trying to get her feet under herself.

  Grabbing Dorralt, Raeln lifted him off the ground and threw him against the nearest pillar, disrupting his spell and drawing his attention away from Feanne. With the strength Raeln had come to expect from the Turessians, Dorralt shoved Mairlee aside as though she were nothing greater than anyone else in the courtyard. Then he ran at Raeln and drove him back into the wall of the courtyard.

  “Still playing games as the tough leader, Raeln?” Dorralt asked, motioning toward Yoska, who had tried to rush him. The gypsy choked and fell, clutching at his throat. “I saw what you did to Liris. Did you think you would be given a chance to do the same to me? I will not be made a mockery of by a dog. Werewolf blood is not pure enough to harm me.”

  Raeln kicked out with his right leg, buckling Dorralt’s knee. Before Dorralt could regain his footing, Raeln threw himself onto the ground and swept both of Dorralt’s legs with his own. Dorralt fell with a pained grunt. Mairlee and Feanne lashed out at him, trying to intercede between him and Raeln.

  Twisting on the ground to avoid the Feanne’s claws and Mairlee’s magically flaming fists, Dorralt tried to point at Raeln, only to have his aim thrown off by Feanne. A flicker of dark energy flew past Raeln and struck Yoska, who had just managed to get to his feet. Convulsing as blood ran from his nose and ears, Yoska dropped like a stone.

  Snarling, Dorralt swept aside the two women and sat up. “That spell was aimed for you. A shame, really. Until his heart stops, I cannot cast it again. That bought you seconds, Raeln.”

  Rolling to his feet, Raeln punched Dorralt in the face, though Dorralt did not budge and Raeln’s hand went numb. He quickly switched to his other hand, slashing Dorralt’s face with his claws. The wound sizzled and blackened, but Dorralt simply glared at him, apparently unconcerned.

  “I’ve had enough of this,” Dorralt said. Magic wrapped itself around Raeln and yanked him away from Dorralt. At the same time, he could see everyone else in the courtyard hurled backward. Dorralt got slowly to his feet and touched the ragged cuts on his cheek that had not yet healed. “Clever dog for figuring that out, not that it matters. I suppose this means it’s time to kill you all before the mists arrive.”

  Nearby, Feanne somehow managed to free herself of the magical bonds and dropped to her hands and knees. With a snarl, she began changing, her body shifting rapidly and growing. Her eyes flared bright green as she bared her teeth.

  “No,” Dorralt said, looking over at Feanne. Abruptly, her change halted and began to reverse. Feanne screamed as she curled into a ball. “My brother was not the only one to figure out how to prevent that. Without the power of the Miharon behind you, I doubt you have any chance of that working. Your master took that power back.”

  Dorralt raised his hand and closed his eyes with a self-satisfied smirk, pointing at Feanne with what Raeln assumed to be another deadly spell’s preparation. Then, blinking, he stared up at his hand.

  All around the courtyard, the binding magic began to collapse. Turess, Mairlee, and even Alafa—who Raeln had not realized had managed to slip into the courtyard—pulled free. Raeln pushed past the invisible ropes holding him. Even Yoska sat up, wiping blood away from his face as he struggled to catch his breath.

  “Something wrong?” Mairlee asked as she got up, brushing her long grey hair out of her face. “Perhaps you forgot that even you have limits. Your minions seem to be getting a little tired on the battlefield. There are so few of them, thanks to the Miharon.”

  Leaping for Dorralt, Raeln managed to punch the side of his head with one hand and claw his ribs with the other. Dorralt winced and backhanded Raeln, knocking him onto his back. Before Raeln could roll to his feet, Dorralt slid him across the courtyard with a flick of his wrist, putting twenty feet or more between them.

  Dorralt sighed as he created magical flames in his hand, examining the smoking wound on his side from Raeln’s blood-covered claws. “Tired, yes, but they have far more to spare. There are, after all, almost a hundred of them and only a few of you here. I will manage.”

  “Now!” Mairlee shouted.

  Immediately Feanne rolled to her knees and howled. A second later, Mairlee added her own shrill cry, and the shadowy Miharon let out his own howl. The sounds echoed through the temple, quickly answered by animal cries in the distance.

  Dorralt laughed for a moment before his eyes went distant. He let his arm drop and the flames fade away. “You clever bitches. A simultaneous attack on all of my children in the region. You mean to starve me of magic?”

  Laughing softly, Mairlee walked across the courtyard. The others closed in, forming a tight circle around Dorralt. Raeln got off the ground and then remained still, trying not to draw Dorralt’s attention from Mairlee. Dorralt gestured at her, but Mairlee walked right through the magic as though it were no more than a breeze.

  “Use your magic all you want,” she said. “Ilarra found your weakness, though she didn’t know it. You are bonded to your children as surely as she was to Raeln. Each of them aides you, while their deaths merely deprive you of power. For you, power is life. You can pull magic to yourself and let your children die. Each of them that crumbles will weaken the whole. Should you leave the magic with them, you cannot hope to stand against me. You have no good option left, Dorralt. Who is a match for a dragon now?”

  Before Mairlee reached him, Dorralt looked between the temple’s pillars,
where the mist whirlwinds had gotten far closer. Raeln was willing to bet they were tearing at the outer parts of the temple. As he watched, a few black stones like those used in the temple’s construction flew up into the mists, bursting into flame as they went. He swore he saw a few human-sized bodies fly away as well, but he tried not to think about that.

  “You are absolutely correct, dragon,” Dorralt said, turning to face Mairlee. He bowed graciously as he backed away, keeping some distance from Feanne, Mairlee, and Raeln. His path took him more toward Turess and Alafa, who had done the least to slow him. With them, Raeln could see Yoska, who appeared to be recovering, sitting up and searching for his dropped weapons. “Who is?”

  With a rush of wind, a shadow near Dorralt formed into the shape of a man and stepped between Mairlee and Dorralt. It hissed and shifted, intercepting Raeln as he inched closer to Dorralt’s side. The ghostly figure appeared to be a Turessian. His tattoos glowed faintly as he lifted his hands to do battle with Mairlee using magic, keeping his gaze on Raeln.

  “I would like you to meet Oramain,” Dorralt announced. “I believe Estin has already met him, as has my brother. The rest of you are in for an interesting surprise. After On’esquin, he was the next I created. He gained immortality even before I did.”

  Mairlee roared at Oramain, unleashing a torrent of flames from her fingertips. The flames passed harmlessly through him, and he sent bolts of lightning back at her, forcing her to give up on her spell to deflect the blast. The two let their spells fade, and Mairlee prepared another. Oramain lashed out at her with tendrils of darkness from his fingers, which burned her forearm badly, forcing her to retreat several steps as he advanced.

  “Oramain,” Dorralt said, looking over and smiling at Raeln, “do me a favor and bring back some fallen allies. I want to see this courtyard filled with familiar faces. Make sure the wolf has someone to play with.”