The Book of Deacon: Book 03 - The Battle of Verril

by Joseph Lallo

  The possessed form of Lain stepped quickly back and twirled the weapon in a sequence of wide loops, building speed as it went. Soon the tip was fairly hissing through the air. Ether stalked toward him. With carefully calculated timing, Epidime directed an attack at the shape shifter. A clang of steel echoed off of the walls as a blow powerful enough to chip away at Ether's stony form met its mark. She recovered quickly and continued to move toward him. As the weapon clashed again and again, Ivy watched, her mind ablaze as she fought the metal grip

  She felt fear, anger, desperation, hatred. None of them would do. Anger would bring pain, and possibly death. Hatred . . . no, never again. Fear took the place of the other emotions, but this too was no good to her, and she did her best to bury it down. There was only one thing that could help her now. She knew what she needed to do, but she didn't know how. It had happened once before, if only she could remember . . .

  Expert timing and inhuman speed had landed countless attacks on Ether without so much as a single blow being returned. Her rocky form was striped with cracks and lacerations and the repeated strikes with the crystal had reduced her strength to nearly nothing. The shape shifter needed relief, needed to escape, but she knew that any other form would be instantly struck down or, worse, squander the last of her energy and leave her a helpless drifting mind once more. Epidime sensed this, raising the intensity of his attacks. When victory seemed certain, he began to highlight his attacks with mocking taunts.

  “Remarkable creatures, these malthropes. I've seldom encountered such boundless stamina. And after days of starvation and torture, as well. Truly a wonder, and truly a shame that very shortly they shall be extinct,” Epidime said with a grin.

  He rained blows upon Ether, the battered creature no longer strong enough to mount a defense. As he raised his weapon to deliver what would surely be a final blow, a blaze of white light filled the chamber. The sudden outburst proved distracting enough for Ether to fall clear of the strike, collapsing weakly to the ground. Epidime turned to the source of the blaze, shading his eyes against its intensity.

  There, amid the groan of straining steel and the creaking of stone, was Ivy, immersed in a pure white aura. Her eyes, now piercingly white, fixed on Epidime. There was no anger, no fear, just iron determination in her expression. Only once before had she managed such a transformation. Driven only by duty, she'd achieved it in her escape from the fort that had nearly claimed Myranda's life. With the strength brought by her new form she'd levered her feet free and now stood with them planted on the wall, pushing with all of her might against the failing grip of the metal tendrils that coiled about her arms. Her clothes rustled in the arcane wind that seemed to surge from her in all directions. Steadily the writhing steel tentacles began to lose their grips.

  Epidime turned his focus to this new threat, directing his will to the failing restraints as he charged at her. The iron grips tightened, causing Ivy to falter and crouch lower to the wall. The charging halberd bearer was mere steps away when the stone that anchored the tendrils finally gave way. Ivy uncoiled and cannoned into the form barreling toward her. The pair became a tumbling tangle of flailing limbs and brilliant light. Drawing upon instincts and training deep within Lain's mind, Epidime shifted and angled his body with each roll. Finally, planting his feet on Ivy's midsection, he launched her off of him and rolled to his feet in a single, fluid motion. Before his eyes Ivy pivoted in midair, landing in a dead run.

  The dark wizard had scarcely the time to admire the poetry in motion he'd witnessed before he was forced to ready his weapon. What followed was a true sight to behold. Two minds, each rivaled only by the other in acuteness of the senses and sharpness of the reflexes, engaged in the most unusual of battles. Epidime knew not what to think. Ivy was attacking, but she wasn't. In motions both graceful and awkward she was bobbing, weaving, lunging and diving. Now she reached toward the retreating halberd, now she backed away. She seemed to have no interest whatsoever in striking Epidime himself. It was not until she finally succeeded that Epidime understood her goal.

  Ivy's fingers closed around the shaft of the halberd, grasping the weapon just below Epidime's own grip. Steadying herself, Ivy attempted to tear it away from him, but it would not move. Epidime contorted Lain's face into an out of place, sinister grin once again. There was a flare of light within his crystal and the whole of the halberd seemed to darken. It had been black before, but now it seemed to devour the light around it until it was little more than a shaft of pure, ebony midnight. The surface was cold, an agonizing, sizzling cold that burned and bit at Ivy's hands, but her grip would not relent. She stared into his eyes, through them, into his soul. Epidime stared back at her, his madness in Lain's eyes.

  “Remove the evil weapon and it will release your friend, eh? A clever realization. I wouldn't have thought one of your surging transformations capable of such an epiphany. Intriguing. Blue is fear, red is anger, but what is white? Is it hate? Is it love? Is it an emotion at all? Or have you somehow learned to control what we've done to you? Only one way to find out, I suppose,” he mused as the pair struggled against one another.

  The crystal flared again. Instantly the burning in Ivy's hands was joined by a pressure on her mind, an unwanted influence trying to work its way in. In its natural state, Ivy's mind would have been simple to enter, but there was nothing natural about the state her mind was in now. It was consumed by a singular, pure, all-encompassing purpose. A will hard as diamond poured energy from her. Epidime fought the current, pouring more and more of his will to the task.

  “You may be able to resist me now . . . but you cannot keep this up for long, can you?” Epidime managed to taunt.

  Suddenly Ivy lurched forward. Lain's body and Epidime's mind had been fully committed to keeping Ivy from pulling away the weapon. Now she was pushing. Before he could compensate, Epidime found himself running backward to keep from falling. He withdrew from her mind to probe for Lain's instincts once more. Just as the perfect counter maneuver surfaced, time ran out. The pair met the wall with crushing force. Lain collided with the narrow section of wall beside the entryway. A heartbeat later Ivy collided with him. The wind rushed from his lungs, but he did not release the weapon. Suddenly Ivy buckled to the ground as even through her clothes the burning of her mark became visible.

  “Lain is still a Chosen. Every action against him is a knife in your own back!” Epidime gloated.

  The blazing white aura about Ivy had faded somewhat, but still she held firm. As The Mark finished meting out its punishment, she climbed to her feet and resumed her tug of war on the halberd. Epidime staggered a bit before he managed to mount an effective resistance again. The general opened his mouth to issue another taunt, but something interrupted him. Something tightened about his waist with crushing strength. He looked down to see a bundle of muscle and gleaming red scales pulled taught around him. A glance over his shoulder revealed that he'd let his attentions stray too far form the task of controlling the metal vines. Myn had managed to bend and rend enough of them to snake her tail through, and now it was locked about him with every ounce of strength the dragon could muster. She didn't understand what was happening, but she didn't need to. The only thing that mattered was getting her friend away from this place, and she meant to do it.

  The dragon pulled in one direction, the malthrope in the other. Lain's body dangled off of the ground, bones creaking and tendons straining. Epidime split his mind between the tasks of augmenting Lain's failing muscles enough to maintain his grip and summoning a spell that would end the meddlesome dragon. His joints popped and twisted, sending a shudder of pain through Ivy and Myn alike as their actions took their toll on a fellow Chosen. The hesitation was enough of an opening for him to launch the spell, a ball of crackling black energy, at the dragon. He watched with morbid interest as it streaked through the air. A shimmering wall manifested in the path of the destructive spell, dispersing it. At the same time Epidime could feel his fingers being levered open by an unseen
force. He turned his head and spat a string of placeless syllables, words never before uttered in this world but nonetheless understood for the profanities they were. Myranda was standing, free, with her staff in hand.

  With Epidime's mind otherwise occupied, Myranda had managed to escape from her restraints. Now she focused all that she had into loosening Epidime's grip. For a few long moments the only sounds were the crackle of bones and the stifled agony of Myn, Ivy, and Myranda as they incurred the wrath of their marks. Finally Lain's fingers opened. Ivy was thrown back, the weapon hurling from her fingers. As Lain's body fell motionless from Myn's grip, the halberd took a wild, clattering path across the ground, screeching to a stop. A moment later the crystal flared and it launched itself toward them. The heroes braced themselves. There was an ear shattering clash as the weapon struck something.

  There, twisting and shaking to get free, was the halberd. Locked about it were the crumbling fingers of Ether. Powerful arcs of black magic were surging from the weapon, splashing against her stony form and pushing back the others. The shape shifter staggered to her feet and took a few unsteady steps before a thick bolt of power shattered one of her legs. She dropped to the ground. The failing glow that was her eyes shifted about the floor. Finally she gripped the halberd with her other hand and with one final heave, lurched into the channel carved into the floor.

  There was the crackle and scrape of stone on stone as she plummeted down the narrow crevice, but Ether's grip held. A moment later the bundle of stone and weapon was driven deep into a thick, molten flow. The halberd shuddered as its metal took on a brilliant glow. The air buzzed about it one last time before it was swallowed by the liquid stone. The still faintly flickering form of Ivy strode to the edge of the channel and peered into the glowing depths. Assured that her task was complete, the transformation released her and she collapsed to the ground, eyes still faintly open.

  “Wha- What?” she panicked, struggling against restraints that weren't there.

  Myranda rushed to her and pulled her away from the edge. Ivy slowly realized that something had happened.

  “I . . . Did I do something?” she asked, climbing shakily to her feet.

  “You did so much,” Myranda said, helping her. “But come, we need to help Lain and get him out of here.”

  The mention of Lain's name shook the cob webs from Ivy's mind. She hurried to his side, but skidded to a stop.

  “What is happening?” she cried.

  There was the sickening pop of joints pulling back into place on their own amid sudden jerking motions. He was rising to his feet unnaturally, seemingly hanging from unseen threads that pulled him upright with little concern for things like gravity or balance. The writhing of the metal tendrils near the door began anew, forcing Myn further into the narrow tunnel. Lain's head lifted and his eyes opened. An awful, impossible smile came to his face.

  “No . . . It isn’t possible!” Myranda said in horror.

  In a blur of motion Lain's fingers were about her neck, closing with strength they shouldn't have. He lifted her from the ground.

  “You are to be commended. I took up the halberd centuries ago. No one until now has been able to destroy it,” he said.

  Myranda tried to put her mind to a spell but he sent her crashing to the ground with a vicious throw. With the wizard dazed, he raised his hands to finish the job. Ivy dove onto his back.

  “You can't be Epidime!” she cried.

  A pulse of magic threw her from his back. He turned and stalked toward her, the greater threat. The same darkness that had encompassed his weapon now seemed to be pooling about his hands, trailing from them as he walked. He grasped at the air and Ivy suddenly felt a crushing force about her. She was hoisted into the air and held before him. Slowly, he paced toward the channel of lava with her.

  “A weakness is a useful thing, Ivy,” he said calmly, as though to a student. “Once those who would destroy you discover it, it is all that they target. It makes people predictable. They rely upon it, expend all of their energy on it. I don't have a weakness, so I provided myself with one.”

  With his other hand he willed Myranda into the air.

  “It is just as well you destroyed it. In the years since I selected the halberd I've been through the minds of hundreds of warriors skilled in thousands of other weapons. In truth I was beginning to feel constrained. In the future I shall have to select something more benign. A medallion, or a ring, perhaps.”

  Myranda's eyes slowly came into focus. She raised her hand, only to have it pinned down again. The blow had dizzied her, but already her senses were returning. She focused her mind on Lain. Not the body, but the soul within. Epidime was on the surface now, a greasy black slick in her mind's eye, staining Lain's form with his influence. Far behind it was the tiniest flicker of the soul she knew. She reached out to it.

  “No, no, no. That will not do,” Epidime scolded.

  With a flick of his fingers Myranda was hurled to the center of the room, bouncing painfully against the spire that had held Lain. She fell, barely catching the scalding hot edge of the channel. Instantly there came a crash strong enough to shake the walls, then another. Epidime turned to find Myn throwing herself against the entryway. Cracks were creeping along the walls. What remained of the metal vines were little more than twisted, useless lengths of metal. With one final heave she shattered a piece of the wall away, charging into the chamber. The dragon pounded past Epidime and skidded to a stop at the edge of the channel, scooping Myranda to safety. She then turned to Epidime, a look of betrayal in her eyes.

  “Ah, Myn. You bring an interesting mix of emotions to Lain's head. Surprise, relief,” Epidime said, eying the gashes the creature had suffered in her attempts to enter. “Concern. I wouldn't have thought the old assassin capable.”

  Myn was growling, though the word was not conceived with a dragon in mind. It was a sound like distant, rolling thunder. It was a sound that shook the earth. Epidime dropped Ivy unceremoniously from his grip.

  “Well, Myn, what will it be?” Epidime said.

  Myn took a few significant steps toward him, placing the stricken heroes behind her.

  “You know, I have the greatest respect for dragons. They have minds capable of great wisdom. Far greater than most mortals, given the time to develop it. Unfortunately the assortment of instincts that keeps you alive in the wild is, alas, ill suited to understanding abstract concepts. You thus cannot be blamed for your failure to grasp why your beloved Lain has begun to act so strangely. Nor can you be expected to realize that standing between a wizard and his target is a worthless and foolish gesture,” Epidime explained slowly.

  Myranda and Ivy cried out simultaneously. Myn turned to see waves of black energy burning around them like dark flames. She turned back to find Epidime volleying a pair of attacks at her. As the crackling energy splashed across her scales, blistering them in a way that no fire could and wracking her with pain, the part of her that would not allow her to hurt Lain was finally pushed aside by a far more fundamental instinct. In a blur of movement Myn pounced on Lain, pinning him to the ground beneath a massive fore claw. Her talons curled over his shoulders, cleaving the stone on either side of his head. Instantly she felt the burn of divine punishment surge outward from The Mark on her wing.

  “Cruel, isn't it?” Epidime wheezed. “The Mark punishes you for disloyalty to the cause, and in doing so has made you helpless. As I said, it is the rules of the game that have beaten you.”

  A flex of his mind lifted Myn into the air and launched her at the spire in the center of the room. She shattered through it and slid to a stop on the opposite side, writhing in pain. Lain's body rose from the ground and alighted on his feet.

  “Now I am afraid it is time to . . . “ Epidime began.

  There was a new rumbling now, one that made the growl of the dragon seem like a kitten's purr. The whole mountain was shaking. Without the spire in its center, the circular channel was nothing more than a pit, and from within it ca
me a glow like the fires of hell. It grew brighter, and the rumble louder, until the very ceiling seemed ready to collapse. There emerged from the pit a massive form, glowing like the inside of a kiln and throwing off a heat to match. It was Ether. A few minutes immersed in the molten lifeblood of the mountain had brought her a strength she'd not known for thousands of years.

  The shape shifter climbed out of the hole, stooping to fit in the chamber. The floor beneath her feet melted and boiled. Her eyes, brilliant golden pools set in a radiant crimson face, turned to Epidime, who stepped toward her.

  “Resilient little things, aren't you? This is all very impressive. What will you do now? Kill me? I do hope so. It would destroy you, and after this demonstration I must say I am not sure how else to achieve it,” he taunted, stepping so close that the heat that poured off of her was beginning to make his fur scorch and smoke.

  Ether moved cautiously away from him, but he pressed closer. The black fire continued to plunge the others into mind searing agony, and soon began to roil across the body of the slowly recovering dragon. The shape shifter had never been so powerful, and yet had never been so helpless. There was nothing she could do to stop his magic from doing its work without hurting or killing Lain. Epidime stepped closer still. The bandages on Lain's chest began to smolder, blacken, and fall away. Beneath, there was the glint of gold.

  Lain's face wore a look of arrogant satisfaction as he brought up another cascade of black fire to torment Ether's massive form. Deep in his mind, Epidime knew that the easiest, most certain way of destroying Ether was to coax her into destroying a fellow Chosen, but doing so may take time and the others could not be allowed to escape, so he turned his attentions to them. The spells were doing their work, dark flames sapping what little strength they had left, but these were durable creatures, resilient and resourceful. The magic had always been quite enough in the past, but not this time. No matter. If magic alone was not enough there were simpler ways. He approached Ivy and picked up a stone that had been dislodged from the ceiling. He raised it. He brought it down.