Firestorm (The Sword of Light Trilogy Book 2)

by Aaron Hodges

  Eric wiped tears from his eyes. “I can’t lose you too, Enala,” he took a steadying breath. “So just stay with me, okay?” his voice cracked, but he reached down to clasp the hilt of the Sword.

  Closing his eyes, he began to pull. Enala screamed as the blade shifted. The sound tore at his soul, but he could not turn back now. Biting back tears, he drew the Sword of Light from her chest. Enala thrashed against the alter as the blade slid clear. Blood began to bubble from the naked wound.

  Enala’s shrieks died away and her head sank back against the alter.

  Holding the Sword of Light in his hand, Eric hardly noticed. He could feel its power as it flowed down his arm, swirling within him, seeking out every dark crevice of his soul. He stood before it like a leaf in a flood, overwhelmed, helpless before its power. Light shone through his mind, a threatening edge to its touch.

  Eric focused on the light, feeling out its power, fighting the lure of its pull. It wound its way deeper, curling around his soul. Within, his own magic rose in response, its blue glow mingling with the pure white – one feeding the other, or fighting for control, he could not tell.

  Then, anxiety driving him, Eric reached out with steely resolve and grasped the flickering lights. The blue of his own magic succumbed easily, but the white reared back, fighting against him. The Sword’s magic turned red hot, threatening to burn his mind to a crisp.

  But Eric had no patience for the unruly force, no time to waste. Threads of power spun from his magic, blue ropes that wrapped their way around the white light. Twisting and turning, the Light fought against him, but he left it no place to go. With a final flash of red, the light settled, trapped in the bindings of his power.

  Opening his eyes, Eric smiled. The Sword glowed in his hand, its brilliance banishing all but the deepest shadows in the temple. The power of the Light, returned to Witchcliffe Island.

  “This ends now, demon,” he swore.

  “You are strong, to overcome the pull of the Sword. Still, it will do you no good now,” reaching down, the demon drew the Soul Blades.

  Eric leaned down and kissed Enala on the cheek. “Stay with me,” he whispered.

  The power of the Sword thrummed in his ears, burning away pain and feeding strength to his limbs. Even so, Eric could not move quickly on his broken leg, and the demon had two blades to his one. He could not let this become a battle of blades.

  The demon’s cloak cracked as it strode towards Eric, a dark grin on Thomas’ worn face. It had fought this battle twice already; both times Eric had been overwhelmed in moments. Even with the Sword of Light, Eric knew the odds were against him.

  Even so, he would fight on. This monster’s terror had to end – here and now. However slim, the Sword at least gave him a chance.

  Reaching down, Eric sought to draw on the Sword’s power. The light fled at his touch, slipping free of his magic. Clenching his fist around the Sword’s hilt, Eric followed the power as it retreated into the blade. There he wrapped its again in his magic and pulled the bindings tight.

  White flames raced along the length of the blade, burning bright as the noonday sun. Heat seared at Eric’s face, far fiercer than any mortal flame. He flinched away, unable to bear it, until the Sword’s magic seeped back into his body. His skin cooled as it spread through his limbs.

  Eric smiled across to where the demon stood watching him. A weariness lurked in its eyes now, a grim smirk on its lips. It held the Soul Blades stretched out towards Eric. He remembered how Thomas had required instruction from the Gods to wield the Sword of Light, and grinned.

  “I’m a fast learner,” he mocked. “Unlike some.”

  He flicked out the Sword and a column of white hot flame leapt towards his foe. Where dragon flame had once been hot enough to drive the demon from Malevolent Cove, the Sword’s fire was fiercer still. It swept towards the demon, stone melting beneath its touch.

  The demon hurtled sideways, a gust of wind carrying it skywards.

  “Impressive,” it growled. “But you are a mere novice, injured and exhausted. You will perish here, boy!”

  Then it fell, hurtling towards Eric with blades extended. Energy flashed within the tainted steel, the green and blue glows reaching out to mix with the white of the Sword.

  Eric raised his arm and hurled another inferno at the demon. It lurched in the air and came on, but Eric was already moving. The winds cast him into the sky. Behind him the familiar vines exploded through the pavement, engulfing the space where he’d just stood.

  Smiling, Eric allowed the wind to carry him higher. He would not be caught in the same trap twice. His breath came faster as he felt the power flooding his body. It swept through his muscles, washing away all pain, all sensation, leaving him free to tackle the demon. The white of the Sword fed his magic, its unlimited energy recharging his own.

  He lashed out with the fire again, eager to destroy the jungle below. The flames roared as they devoured the demon’s creations. Directing the wind, Eric landed atop one of the pillars and watched as the demon settled opposite.

  It hissed, teeth bared, pale fingers gripped hard around its blades. Thick smoke rose from the temple, turning the space between them black. Eric raised the Sword as the demon disappeared into the smoke. His clothes whipped in the wind as he prepared to take flight.

  The crackle of lightning leant Eric precious seconds. He dove from the pillar as blue fire turned the granite to molten stone. The winds propelled him up through the acrid smoke. He coughed as black soot caught in his throat, then he rose above the burning stench.

  The air hissed as a blade flashed for his face. Eric ducked, dropping a foot, and the sword swept overhead. He lashed out at the demon’s feet but Thomas shot backwards out of range.

  They circled one another, air crackling with energy as they soared higher. Eric drew on the Sword’s power and unleashed a wave of white fire. The demon drew back. Then the blue blade crackled. Lightning flashed and the wind howled as the Sky elements lashed out to halt the flames advance.

  A blast exploded outwards, smashing into Eric and spinning him through the air. He struggled to keep hold of the wind, drawing the gusts into a tighter spiral. Flames flashed and thunder clapped as blue lightning smashed the temple below. He prayed Enala had not been hit.

  Eric looked up to see white fire licking at the demon’s cloak. It beat at the flames, face twisting with pain. Shielding his eyes against the glare, Eric watched its pale flesh blacken and burn.

  It still has no defence against the Light, Eric thought with a smile. If only he knew more about what the Sword could do.

  The demon screamed and tore the flaming cloak from its body. It scowled at him, lightning crackling along the blue blade. A dark green glow came from the other. Beneath, the earth shook with its rage.

  “Is that all you have, boy?” it growled.

  Eric glared back, frustrated by his own limitations. He knew the Sword was capable of so much more than simple fire. The God magic controlled all aspects of the Light. It was capable of feats he could not begin to imagine. But there was no time to learn now. The fire would have to do.

  Across from him, the demon dropped into the smoke and vanished from view. Eric swore, eyes searching the roiling clouds below. The blaze was everywhere now, flames catching at the rotten walls. He could hardly make out the building through the smoke and fire. He hoped Enala was still safe at the centre of the courtyard where the flames had not yet reached.

  Reaching out with his senses, he searched for his foe, for the tell-tale whisper of magic.

  A sudden gust pushed him down as the winds holding him aloft gave way. He fell, tumbling into the acrid smoke towards the distant earth. Panic gripped him, but a few feet above the ground the winds returned and he caught himself.

  As he touched down, vines sprang from all around, their thorny tendrils shooting out to catch his fragile body. The demon charged through the smoke, Soul Blade raised to strike Eric down.

  But the Sword of Light moved
faster. Flames danced out from him, turning the vines to ash and flinging the demon into a nearby pillar.

  Eric grinned as the demon climbed to its feet. Gripping the wind still spinning through the temple, he sent it out in a blast of fury. It caught the smoke and carried it upwards, blowing it from the building and into the sky. The temple reappeared as the wind died away.

  But the demon had vanished. Eric spun, searching the ruins. Its laughter came from the shadows to his right, then left, always moving. He glared around him, chasing ghosts through the empty temple. He caught sight of Enala, still lying on the alter but conscious now, clutching her cloak to her chest. He caught the glint of metal and saw her other hand wrapped about the hilt of Alastair’s shattered blade.

  Stones rattled from behind. Eric spun in time to parry the demon’s blow, energy crackling as the blue and white blades clashed. Then Eric slashed out with the greatsword, feeling a satisfying crunch as the blade caught flesh.

  The demon stumbled, its growl echoing from the temple walls. The face of Thomas constricted, grey lines creeping through the pale skin. Burns scorched his flesh and as Eric watched, dark shadows began to creep beneath his skin.

  “Enough!” the thing that had been Thomas hissed.

  Fear caught Eric as the demon surged forward, faster than thought. Instinct screamed for him to move, but his broken leg caught beneath him and he tripped. Eric shrieked in agony as the demon’s blade drove into his stomach. A deathly cold hand grasped his throat and pulled, dragging him further onto the blade. He gasped as the demonic steel tore into him.

  “Goodbye, Eric,” the demon’s lips pressed against his ear. “Say hello to Antonia for me.”

  With a casual smirk, the demon shoved him to the ground. The Soul Blade slid free, its dark green glow flickering in the sunlight. The Sword of Light slipped from Eric’s hands, scattering across the tiles. Sparks of flame burst from the blade with each bounce.

  The Sword’s magic fled Eric’s body. Without it, the pain returned to strike him down. A chill spread from his stomach and the same dark shadows he had sensed in Malevolent Cove reached out to claw at his soul. The edges of his vision blurred and he felt hot blood pooling beneath him. He clutched at his stomach, struggling to stem the bleeding.

  Rubble crunched beneath the demon’s boots as it walked towards the Sword of Light. Sheathing Jurrien’s blade, it reached out to pluck the Sword from the broken ground.

  “No!” the demon swung at Enala’s cry.

  As it turned, the shattered remnants of Alastair’s blade took it through the eye.

  Eric gaped, staring at Enala’s heaving body. She collapsed back to the alter, the last of her energy spent with the effort it had taken to hurl the blade. A convulsion tore through her, lifting her body from the hard stone. Blood bubbled from her lips and spread across the alter beneath her. A gurgling groan came from her chest.

  Beside him, the demon screamed. The sound tore at Eric’s ears; it’s shriek like a hundred nails on a chalk board. He fought through the sound, through the pain in his leg, through the chill spreading from his stomach as his lifeblood leaked away. This was his chance – if only he had the strength to take it.

  Clenching his fists, Eric fought back against the shadows clinging to his soul. He gathered the last of his courage and lunged for the Sword of Light. His fingers scrambled at the hilt, pulling it to him, though he had lost the strength to lift it.

  The Sword ignited at his touch, feeding new strength to his dying body. Its power burned through him, extinguishing the shadows of the Soul Blade. The pain faded until it became just a dull throbbing within, a distant reminder of his impending death. Drawing on the Sword’s power, Eric stood.

  The demon staggered across the temple floor, blindly clutching at the broken sword still piercing its skull. Dark magic flashed about it, shadows racing around its warped body to vanish into Alastair’s blade. Some part of Alastair’s enchantment still held. Yet Eric could already see the shadows gaining power, as more and more escaped the clutch of the sword.

  Eric had no idea what the demon was trying to do, but clearly the blow had not been fatal. It was distracted though, and that was all he needed.

  Stepping up behind the demon, Eric raised the Sword. Energy blazed from its depths, not flames this time but a pure white light which cast the shadows from the demon. It started to turn, must have felt the gathering power, poised to strike it down.

  Eric swung the Sword with all his strength. The Sword blazed as it sliced through the creature’s cloak and pierced the body beneath, the body that had once belonged to the king of Trola. A blood curdling cry bellowed from the twisted mouth. Then energy erupted from the Sword, engulfing the demon and cutting off its final scream.

  The light spread across the old king’s body, raising red welts wherever it touched. The demon shuddered and a gasp echoed from the pale lips. The head slumped, then turned to look at Eric.

  Eric stumbled backwards as he glimpsed the demon’s eyes. Hazel had replaced the black, and the man from Antonia’s vision stared back at him.

  “Thank you,” Thomas’ words whispered through the temple.

  Then light exploded from the blade, engulfing them both in its power.

  Epilogue

  Enala dragged herself across the broken floor towards Eric. She locked her eyes on the young Magicker, fighting back pain, struggling for breath. Her chest gurgled with each gasp, as though filled with liquid, as though she were drowning in her own blood. Fire burned in her heart and sleep beckoned, it’s cool depths offering sweet relief.

  But she could not give in. Not while Eric, not while her brother, lay dying.

  She crawled on. Flames flickered nearby, their heat washing across her broken body. Smoke drifted overhead, but where she lay the air remained clear. A crash came from nearby as another part of the roof collapsed, the orange flames consuming the crumbling ruins of the temple.

  Closing her eyes, Enala pressed on.

  Rubble ground against her skin, but she hardly felt it – sensation had long since fled with the lifeblood trailing behind her. All that remained was the slowing thud of her heart, the searing in her lungs, the slow suffocation of her body.

  It seemed an eternity had past when she finally reached his side. He lay amidst the ash that had been the demon, body bleeding and broken. She stretched out a hand and grasped his arm. His eyes opened at her touch. He attempted a smile, but it came out as a grimace.

  “Enala,” he croaked.

  “I’m here. You did it, Eric, you beat it.”

  His eyes closed again as he groaned. “That’s something at least.”

  Tears blurred in Enala’s eyes – not for herself, but for the sight of Eric lying there dying. She remembered Inken, the kindness she had given Enala, to bring her back from the madness. She remembered the love the two shared.

  Enala shut her eyes. She had nothing and nobody left in this world, but Eric had someone who loved him, a future after all this. She could not bear to watch him die.

  Gritting her teeth, she squinted through the smoke, searching for something, anything. Her eyes swept the burning courtyard, catching on the Sword of Light. But the Sword was no good to them now – the Light did not encompass healing powers.

  Then Enala noticed the dark sheen of the Soul Blades. Somehow they had survived the conflagration unleashed by the Sword of Light. They lay in the rubble, discarded. The green glow of Antonia’s sword danced in her eyes, drawing her in.

  Antonia was the Goddess of the Earth, and the Soul Blade held all the power that entailed. Enala vaguely remembered the little Goddess, from when she had retreated into a catatonic state. Earth magic could heal – Antonia had healed them all on that dark beach so long ago.

  Summoning the last dredges of her strength, Enala started to crawl again. The Soul Blades were close, but the distance could have been miles for all it mattered to her. She was dying. She could feel the last of her life bubbling from her chest, strangling her every ga
sp. Agony swept through her body, but she persevered.

  Reaching out, Enala wrapped her fingers around the leather pommel of the Soul Blade.

  Antonia, help us! she screamed in the confines of her mind.

  There was no answer, only the gentle ebb and flow of light from the sword.

  “Please, Antonia,” she whispered, fading fast. “Help us.”

  Still nothing happened. A sob tore through Enala. She struggled for another breath, but found herself choking, drowning. Tears poured from her eyes as she strained for one last mouthful of air. Heat radiated at her back and the air shimmered, the fire coming closer. Even so, a cold was spreading through her limbs. She could no longer feel her legs.

  Enala clutched the Soul Blade tighter, dragging it across the tiles. The Goddess was right there, so close, so powerful, yet it seemed she was helpless to aid them.

  In desperation, Enala reach out with her mind, the way Eric had explained while they meditated. Darkness blurred the edges of her vision, the light fading from her eyes. With a final push, she reached outwards, seeking the Goddess.

  Enala felt the last sensation of her body fall away. She drifted up into the air, floating aimlessly.

  Is this death? she wondered.

  Yet there was the Soul Blade, glowing with a brilliant green light edged with black. Trapped within was the one being who could save them. Dead or not, Enala had to try. Staring at the sword, she stretched out an arm. Her spirit fingers sank into the cool metal and she dove deeper, throwing caution aside in her desperation to reach the Goddess.

  Antonia, help us! Her cry rang out across the spirit plane. Please!

  Enala shivered as a force rose at her words, brushing against her soul. At its touch, she was flung back from the blade. Crashing into her body, sparks flew across her vision. The pain returned, and the desperate need for air.

  Then a gentle warmth blossomed around Enala, spreading from the arm that still clutched the Soul Blade. A light grew around her, expanding to encompass Eric, until they were both surrounded by a dome of energy. Its power bathed their broken bodies, seeping deep into their skin, seeking out the wounds within.