“Connect to the stones, apprentice, and then Hannya and I will link ourselves to you.”
Turesobei glanced at the ring of heart stone pairs that surrounded them along the outer edge of the room, and said a quick, silent prayer—directed not to his ancestors nor any deity but to the wide, mysterious universe itself. Then he breathed deep and opened his connection to all the heart stones. Swiftly, he projected his consciousness into the active heart stones of Autumn, Winter, Spring, and the Nexus.
Once again he stood on an icy plain facing the images of his father, Kemsu, Narbenu, and the Winter Child.
“It is time,” he told them.
“We are fearless,” they replied in unison. “We are ready.”
“Then repeat these names after me,” he said, reciting all of Gyo Roe Syrra’s names.
As they continued to chant the names, Turesobei mentally cast the spell of unbinding to help them remove any remaining claim the Blood King had on their cylinders. Lord Gyoroe could counter the spell and reclaim ownership of the stones, but if all went according to plan, he wouldn’t realize what they had done until it was too late.
“Control of these heart stones now belongs to you, Noboro Torituro. Let's do this.”
“You have our allegiance, and our eternal gratitude, Chonda Turesobei.”
He returned to his waking body to find the Blood King on his feet, flicking his yellow-eyed gaze around the room as he examined each of the heart stone pairs.
“This…this is all wrong.”
Using his connection, Turesobei immediately reversed the polarities of the reclaimed heart stones and spiked storm energy into them.
Eyes flared scarlet, Lord Gyoroe rounded on Turesobei and snarled, “What have you done?!”
Turesobei ripped the circlet off his head and tossed it aside. “I have learned the true nature of sacrifice and I have used it against you, Gyo Roe Syrra.”
The eyes shifted to gray as his brows crinkled in confusion, his true name having completely distracted him. “What—what did you just call me?”
While only Lord Gyoroe could open the door leading into the Inner Sanctum, anyone could leave freely. So Lu Bei seized that opportunity to stealthily zip toward the exit and slip outside. He would warn the others, in case Awasa hadn’t done so already. Then he would get Enashoma and bring her to the Throne Room. Awasa should have telepathically told Enashoma last night that Turesobei had a way of freeing her.
The change began suddenly, with a hum so deep it was barely audible. The glass dome around them vibrated, the floor quaked, and a shivering ache drilled through Turesobei’s teeth and bones. The hairs on his arms rose, then the loose hairs in his braid flared out.
A crackling, blood-orange lightning bolt fired off the active heart stone of the Autumn Realm, boomed right over Turesobei’s head, and struck the active stone of the Nexus. If he hadn’t remained kneeling, the blast would’ve killed him. The bolt didn’t disappear, but instead formed a continuous, crackling energy link between the two stone cylinders.
The Blood King shook his head, the enchantment of hearing his true name having worn off. Then he dived aside as a bolt shot off the Nexus heart stone and struck the active stone of the Spring Realm. More bolts fired suddenly, forming a continuous web of energy, linking not only the active stones Turesobei had communicated with but all of them.
With his eyes rapidly cycling through their colors, the Blood King scanned the heart stones in confusion. Then his eyes narrowed and settled into gray. “I know what it is you have done. A valiant effort, but I can reverse—”
With a sharp pop, cracks spread through the surface of the active Autumn heart stone.
“No!” the Blood King screamed.
A succession of snaps sounded as fractures spread through all the active heart stones. The damage was considerable but not yet enough to destroy the system. Gyoroe chanted a spell to counter the process. Turesobei hesitated. Stopping the Blood King was more important than escaping safely. Wishing he could’ve brought Sumada in with him without raising suspicion, he drew a strip for the spell of heaven’s wrath. But before he spoke more than three syllables, Hannya shoved him away.
“Go!” she whispered.
Turesobei halted his spell, keeping the strip ready, and backed away. He carefully avoided the crackling energy streams. Hannya dashed in and tackled the Blood King, knocking him into the heart stone pair for the Nexus. Hannya cried out as streams of energy blasted them both. When the cylinders struck the floor beneath them, the active stone in the pair shattered, despite all the physical protections the Blood King had placed upon it.
Turesobei could never have explained how, but he sensed the souls within the stone moving on toward the afterlife.
The crackling energy streams ceased, as did the hum, but it was replaced by a high-pitched whine.
Unharmed, Gyoroe threw Hannya off him and drew a bronze spell strip. While Hannya stood up, Turesobei sprinted toward the door. If Gyoroe directed the spell at him, he wouldn’t make it.
The whine reached eardrum-splitting levels, then abruptly ceased. A moment later, a series of booms rocked the Inner Sanctum as all the other active heart stones exploded.
The shockwaves knocked Turesobei flat. Fragments ricocheted around the room, and a thick cloud of dust billowed out.
Chapter Seventy-Six
As Turesobei picked himself up, he spotted a hand-sized cylinder fragment nearby, a piece of the active heart stone of the Autumn Realm. The souls, and thus the power, of the heart stones was departing, but if he escaped with a fragment, then he could be certain the Blood King couldn’t access any residual kenja by patching all the stones back together.
He dived for the fragment, and a spear of flames hurtled through the spot where his chest had been. He grabbed the stone and rolled to his feet across from the Blood King, whose face was locked into a maniacal snarl.
Turesobei swallowed. This was it. He didn’t stand a chance of dodging another attack. The Blood King was too fast. Either the blast would kill him mercifully or incapacitate him so that he could endure centuries of torture.
But suddenly, Hannya sprang out from under a pile of rubble, expanding into her Earth Dragon form, and attacked the Blood King.
“Go!” she howled.
Turesobei jammed the piece of the Autumn heart stone into a spell pouch, shoved the door open, and sprinted out into the Workshop. He ran as fast as he could, knowing Hannya would only last a few moments at best against the Blood King. His plans might be ruined, but his personal power would remain undiminished.
He raced up the stairs leading out of the Workshop. Each step seemed to take forever, and he could feel their chances of escape slipping away with each moment that passed. He darted into the Throne Room.
Enashoma, guarded bravely by Lu Bei, awaited him on the dais. Terror filled her eyes as she slipped her robe down past her waist and turned her back to him. Turesobei didn’t miss a beat. He had mentally rehearsed this a thousand times over the last week. With one palm on the back of her neck and the other at the base of her spine, he cast the spell Nalsyrra had taught him and spoke the name Gyo Roe Syrra.
The silvery collar and the attached chain melted out from Enashoma’s neck and back and turned solid again. The collar unlocked. With a sigh of relief, Turesobei pulled it free and tossed it aside.
Enashoma spun around, pulling her robe back onto her shoulders, then placed a hand on the jade throne. “Defend us.”
“What was that about?” Turesobei asked.
“You’ll see.”
They ran down the steps and across the room. Savage roars and tremendous spell blasts echoed out of the Workshop. It sounded like a full-fledged battle being waged behind them. But when they reached the hallway, an eerie silence fell.
As they ran out into the courtyard, Enashoma asked, “Is he coming?”
Her answer was a whoosh of air as the Blood King teleported into the space right behind them.
Turesobei’s compa
nions—armed, armored, and packed for travel—were ready to go. Motekeru, Rig, Ohma, Zaiporo, and Iniru had already raced up the steps to the gate platform. For some reason, however, Awasa and Kurine lingered on the ground near the steps. It would be like Kurine to wait on him, even if it wasn’t part of the plan. Not that it mattered with the Blood King here and active. Turesobei would never have time to open one of the gates. It was over.
He spun to face the Blood King and his murderous eyes.
“Go, Shoma!” Turesobei yelled as he backed steadily away.
Sneering, the Blood King spoke a word…then frowned as nothing happened.
“I disarmed the death chain you placed on her, Gyo Roe Syrra.”
“Why do you keep calling me that?” he asked.
“Because it’s your true name.” He flicked his gaze back and saw Enashoma race safely past Kurine and Awasa and up to the platform. “And because it distracts you and makes you mad.”
The Blood King flicked his hand, and a wave of concussive force knocked Turesobei flat—his head spinning, his throat bruised.
“You cannot make me any more angry than I already am,” he seethed, one eye shifting between scarlet and yellow while the other turned gray. “And you will feel the brunt of that anger played out upon your every nerve for a hundred thousand years. Yet it will be nothing compared to what I will do to those you love.”
Suddenly, Kurine leapt over Turesobei’s prone body to stand, fists clenched, between him and the Blood King. What was she doing?! Raising his spell strip, Turesobei sat up and tried to yell—to tell her to run away—but his voice was no more than an indecipherable whisper.
“You will not harm my love!” With her feet firmly planted, she pointed a finger at the Blood King. “Not now! Not ever!”
The Blood King laughed mockingly, as he stalked forward. “You are damned, Chonda Turesobei, if this foolish girl is your savior.”
And he laughed even harder when Kurine tossed eight pebbles out onto the ground, each one gray with a different spiral color pattern.
“Truly damned, for she has lost her mind.”
“Kurine?” Turesobei croaked hoarsely, his voice starting to return.
She turned her head. Her emerald eyes, filled with tears, looked deeply into his. But it was not his name she spoke.
“Awasa,” Kurine whispered faintly.
As Turesobei struggled to his feet, a dark form flashed past him. He could only stare dumbfounded as Awasa leapt in and plunged Fangthorn into Kurine’s back.
The black sword tore all the way through and pierced her heart.
Chapter Seventy-Seven
Time froze.
Turesobei tottered on wobbling knees…fumbled for words…struggled to breathe…and in that silent, eternal moment…wanted above all else to understand why.
Why would Awasa do this to his beloved?
Kurine’s emerald eyes and golden hair began to glow. Her snowy fur, outside of the crimson stains, shined brighter than it ever had before.
Awasa twisted Fangthorn and ripped the blade free.
Kurine staggered, but her gaze remained fixed on Turesobei.
He shook his head. A nightmare…the Blood King’s spell had knocked him unconscious, and now he dreamed of terrible, senseless things. Kurine…Awasa…it couldn’t be real.
Please, please let it be a dream.
Massive currents of kenja, visible as a haze even to the naked eye and humming a mournful tune, swirled through the courtyard. Kenja poured from the flowers and trees, and it gushed from the streams and ponds. It danced free from the wings of butterflies and birds. It leaked down from the false sun, and it sprang up from the earth upon which Kurine’s blood dripped. And the ghosts of a thousand departing souls, newly freed from the heart stones, hesitated on their way to the Shadowland, hovering expectantly in the air.
The Blood King stood, silent and still, as surprised as anyone else.
The spiral-marked pebbles rose into the air, glowing like bright, vengeful suns.
Then Kurine sagged into Awasa’s arms.
Blood pooling in her mouth, Kurine uttered one final word, a word that blossomed into a pulse of energy that sent all the pebbles quavering, a word that inexplicably brought the Blood King to his knees.
“Love,” Kurine choked.
And the last spark of life faded from her eyes.
Awasa let go and Kurine sank, lifeless, to the ground.
Turesobei cried out and stumbled toward Kurine, repeating her name.
But Awasa grabbed him by the arm and pulled him towards the gate platform.
“Run!” she yelled at him.
Turesobei fought her. He had to reach Kurine. There had to be something he could do. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as it looked. Maybe he could preserve her again and find another way to bring her back.
The Blood King looked up from Kurine and locked flaming eyes onto Turesobei. He stood and brandished the bronze spell strip. Then a large serpent made of jade crashed into Gyoroe’s back and knocked him down. The spell strip fell from his hands.
“Sobei, we have to go now!” Awasa shouted. “Please, we can’t do anything for—”
As the serpent wrapped around the Blood King, the pebbles exploded.
The shockwave threw him and Awasa tumbling back toward the platform. When he rolled to a stop, he immediately sat up and looked for Kurine. But billowing clouds of smoke obscured everything, even the Blood King. Turesobei jumped to his feet, but before he could even start to go back for Kurine, Lu Bei zipped down and grabbed him by the collar.
“Master, you have to open the gate,” the fetch urged, his voice halting and clipped. “Quickly now. We don’t have much time.”
As the smoke clouds thinned, portals like the realm gates shimmered into being. And out of them stormed rock warriors, chanting knobs, crab-kagi, storm drakes, the giant ape kagi-ga, a wizard’s simulacrum, and more. Every guardian they’d fought—big and small—poured out from those portals. His face a blank slate, the Blood King stared in shock. His arms were still pinned by the jade serpent.
None of it made sense to Turesobei’s grief-stricken mind. He felt lost. Nothing in the world made sense anymore. None of this could be happening. “How—?”
“I’ll explain later,” Awasa said. “We need to go!”
“But—Kurine. I’ve got to get to Kurine. She needs my help. She’s—”
“She’s dead, master,” Lu Bei said, tears streaming down his amber cheeks. “You must let her go. You must take care of the others.”
“If you don’t get us out of here and quickly,” Awasa said, pulling him along, “then the rest of us will soon be dead, too.”
He stared at them blankly. “But Kurine…”
Awasa slapped him. “Damn it! Open a gate and get us out of here! Now!”
Turesobei allowed her to shove him up the steps to the platform.
Iniru met them halfway down, grabbed his hands, and tugged him along. “Hurry! There’s something wrong with the gates! They’re vibrating!”
“Worse!” Zaiporo called down, his voice trembling. “Cracks are forming in the stonework!”
As Turesobei stumbled onto the platform, Motekeru said, “The gates are unstable. We have little time left.”
But all Turesobei could do was stare numbly at them and think of Kurine, until Enashoma took him into her arms and gripped him tight. “Sobei, I’m so sorry, but…but you have to carry on. We need you.”
He gazed into his sister’s soft, tear-filled eyes and nodded. “Yes…of course…I’ll…I’ll get you out of here, Little Blossom.”
“Sobei, we need to take the Spring Gate,” Zaiporo said, with an odd expression on his face, and Awasa agreed with him.
Not questioning why they wanted him to take the gate for Spring instead of Autumn, Turesobei nodded as he gathered his composure—enough to do what he must.
The gate to the Winter Realm shattered. Then cracks snaked through the gates to the Autumn, Forest, and Cloud rea
lms. With the passive stones rendered inert and the active stones shattered, the magic that linked the gates of the Nexus to the realms was fading fast. Of the gates that could take them to Okoro, that left only Spring and Summer, and the latter, thanks to an angry Lord of Monsters, wasn’t a good option.
It didn’t matter why now. Spring was their only choice.
Down in the courtyard, a furious battle raged. Guardians howled, chanted, and roared while a sequence of attack spells thundered and flashed. Then a stone object shattered with a sharp pop.
“The jade serpent’s gone,” Enashoma said.
Fully waking up to the moment at last, Turesobei realized how desperate things were. He stepped up to the Spring Gate and droned the spell out while Lu Bei chorused along with him. The gate shuddered as a small crack formed at the top and crept downward. It missed the all-important runes by a few inches. The structure—for now at least—remained stable.
The shimmering portal opened with a flash. The stonework trembled, and an array of micro-fractures spread across the surface.
“Go, go, go!” Iniru shouted.
Enashoma, Zaiporo, and the hounds raced through. Iniru looked at Turesobei and hesitated, but Awasa shoved her into the portal. Before Awasa could step in herself, a sudden whoosh distracted them.
Behind them, bloodied and bruised, the Blood King teleported onto the platform, snarling like a savage wolf enraged. With a bronze spell strip in hand, he started to speak. But then Motekeru, his eyes lit up with a fury rarely seen, opened his mouth and unleashed the full might of his hellfire.
The blast knocked Gyoroe to the platform’s edge, burning away his clothes and blistering his skin. No normal Kaiaru could have survived such an attack, but the Blood King did. He remained more than capable.
Awed by the fiery display, Turesobei and Awasa hesitated instead of diving into the portal to escape. Their failure to do so had doomed them. Turesobei cringed as the Blood King again started to speak, needing only one word to unleash his might. There was nothing he could do to counter the spell, and they’d never make it into the portal in time.
The First Kaiaru Page 37
