by Graeme Ing
He laughed. “Such misguided chivalry. Her father double-crossed me. She will not do likewise.”
“The Duke wasn’t a coward like you. He didn’t hold hostages. Let her go. Your feud is with me. You’ve always hated me, as you despised my mother. She was the better necromancer. You fear me because I will become as powerful as her.”
“Don’t taunt him,” Kolta said.
I blew out my anger and glanced at Ayla. For such a strong-willed woman to cower before him was totally unacceptable to me. I had to free her.
Fortak watched me warily. He was afraid of me, and that was the only thing keeping my precious Ayla alive.
Ghostly husks of buildings stretched as far as I could see, distorted, perverted versions of the ones in the real world. How much of the city’s heart had the creature torn out? How much burned while I stood here uselessly? I molded a ball of energy, determined to strike back.
“Give me an excuse to harm the girl,” Fortak said. “Make that foolish act and watch her suffer because of it. Because of you.”
Kolta laid a hand on my arm and squeezed. My eyes narrowed, challenging my mentor, but I let my hand drop.
With a satisfied sneer, Fortak turned and dragged Phyxia to her feet.
“Release the elemental,” he told her. “Let this pathetic, simpering city burn to the ground. Unbind it, woman.”
Phyxia met his wild gaze with calm and dignity, and then shook her head once.
“You should have heeded my warning. I bound it because you were incapable.”
I remembered her words to me in her home:
I’m sorry, sishka. I can only help those who cannot help themselves.
“Do as I command,” he said, “or witness the girl ripped apart. Then your pet, the boy, dies next. Do you want their blood on your hands?”
“It stays bound.”
I whispered in Kolta’s ear. “If you distract him, I can save Ayla. We can do this. We can end this.”
He shook his head. “No, my boy. Fortak is master of The Gray. Always has been. In this place his power is amplified. For every lochtar you kill, three more will replace it. Follow your plan.”
My gaze flicked between him, Fortak, and Ayla cringing among the hissing, clawing lochtars.
I’d underestimated Fortak. He had no intention of letting her live. Why hadn’t he killed both of us already?
Then it made sense. He was stalling. Despite Phyxia’s hold on the elemental, gobbets of fire still rained down into our city. Phyxia sagged in his grasp. He was waiting for her to fail, for the elemental to break free.
Kolta was right. Knee-jerk reactions weren’t getting me anywhere except into deeper trouble. Time to bring in my secret weapon.
I planted my feet firmly and restarted the long and complex Summoning spell.
Fortak snorted. “So it’s Caradan you seek? You’ve no chance of influencing that one.”
Not so much a secret then. I had no doubt he could sense and identify every shred of magic within sight, but it would take more than that to distract me.
He began his own spell. The mists shimmered. Insubstantial phantoms emerged from the gray haze, uttering guttural, rasping noises as if fighting for breath. Most had throats ripped out or skulls caved in, while others had holes torn through their torsos, their flesh and muscle hanging loose, revealing broken rib cages or punctured ghost organs. Their eyes pulsed a lurid green.
Revenants.
I flinched and ducked as they fell upon us, flitting in tight loops around Kolta and me. Where they touched me, my already-blistered skin broke out in lesions that oozed a pus. The stench of decay filled my nostrils. My spell faltered. Damn. Fortak had found the right distraction.
Together, Kolta and I whipped up a Repulsion. The loathsome creatures bounced off the energy field, repeatedly charging and clawing. It wouldn’t hold them for long.
“This is my domain,” Fortak said. “If you’re so determined to die before the girl, so be it, but your death won’t spare her.”
Insanity had finally taken him. He seemed more intent on punishing Ayla and me than carrying out the Covenant’s plan. His plan.
My stomach turned. To The Deep with the Guild oath! I faced him standing tall, and my veins burned with power.
Kolta slapped me hard, jerking my head back.
“That’s what he wants you to do,” he said, his face an inch from mine. “Cast that bloody Summoning, or I will. Stay focused, Maldren. Can’t you see what he’s doing?”
“Oh, Kolta,” Fortak said. “Always the voice of reason. Rationalize this.”
He waved a hand and hundreds of revenants surged against our Repulsion. We were done for.
Fortak chuckled in a gravelly voice as the revenants careened against our Repulsion, desperate to rip us apart.
“Resourceful,” he said. “But it would be more entertaining if you fought each other too.”
The gray mists darkened and clumped into thick, black tendrils that spread out along the ground and meandered like snakes toward us.
“Master.” I reached for Kolta. “The smoke…”
“I know, I know. Finish the Summoning.” He zapped Dispel after Dispel against the horde of revenants.
Our shield was already buckling. A revenant bit Kolta’s leg and he stumbled. Boils bubbled beneath his skin, spreading to his foot. His clenched jaw and grimace said it all.
How could I abandon him for the sake of the spell? What use had Caradan been? Kolta had stood by my side while none in the Guild had. I stepped closer and thrust my shoulder under his armpit. He returned a weak smile. I couldn’t hold the Repulsion anymore. The smoke poured in through invisible cracks in our magic. I cast a Cleansing Shield tight about us.
Damn Fortak! He had all the cards, driving us on the defensive. There had to be a way to fight back.
“That isn’t smoke from the elemental,” a voice, crisp and clear, said across the guttural cries of the revenants.
Kolta and I spun around. I had to blink to believe my own eyes, certain this was more of Fortak’s treachery.
Masters Semplis and Wampor strode out of the smoke, ushering black wraiths before them. At their signal, the dark creatures ripped into the revenants, tearing them into gobbets of tissue that piled high on the ground.
Semplis acknowledged me with a nod. I’d never been so pleased to see him.
“Neither it nor its smoke can exist in The Gray. It’s a trick. We have little time. Do what you have to do.”
I had the backup of three masters. Anything was possible. Tension fled my body like a cast spell. My gaze drifted toward Ayla but Kolta stood pointedly in the way. His softened eyes met mine. He was proud of me. I felt strong.
I nodded. No more distractions. I restarted the Summoning, tuning out the ruckus of the spirits battling around us.
“Don’t be a fool,” Fortak said. “I warned you that I’d take from you everyone you love.”
He gestured with one hand and the lochtars surged upon Ayla, screeching with delight. I lost sight of her beneath the tangle of spirit limbs, flowing dresses and billowing hair.
She screamed and screamed and wouldn’t stop.
The thumping, rapid pace of my pulse threatened to tear me apart. My stomach seized and my vision blurred, filled with tears. I wanted to run to her but I’d committed myself to the spell. This was my last chance to save the city. My fists clenched and I punched the air. Hold on, Ayla, just hold on. If only she could summon the cling spirits, but Fortak had taken away her only protection by bringing us here.
“Unbind my elemental,” Fortak screamed at Phyxia. “You can save them all. Submit to my will and they can live. Damn it, woman.”
He broke down in a fit of coughing.
Ayla’s endless shrieking ripped a hole in my heart. I fell to the ground, oblivious of the masters, wraiths, and revenants around me. Why weren’t they helping? Send the wraiths against the lochtars.
Save Ayla! I can’t lose her. Not now.
Car
adan was the key. I was the key.
I uttered the final words of the Summoning ritual. Binding magic tugged at my life force. A brooding menace hung at the end of that bond, intent on devouring me.
You promised the end of my curse. Caradan’s words echoed loud in my mind.
Aid us, I thought back. If my promise proves false I submit to your wrath. But first you serve me.
Thunder boomed in my head. I serve no mortal.
A necromancer can never show weakness. I pinched the bond, threatening to sever it.
Serve me now or Fortak wins and you are damned for eternity.
No answer.
I looked around me. Kolta and the others huddled inside a protective ring of wraiths that tore and shredded endless waves of revenants pouring out of the mist. Phyxia stood beside Fortak, doubled over, her ears crumpled back against her disheveled silver hair. Arms folded, his eyes sparkled as he watched every jab, every strike of the lochtars against Ayla’s spasming body.
“Ayla. I’m coming. Hold on.”
I stumbled toward her, sucking magic from my core and flinging it carelessly at the lochtars—raw power, no cohesive spell, over and over. Still, she screamed.
“Leave her alone. Don’t do this. Phyxia, please help.”
She met my gaze but did nothing. Damn her and her kind.
One of the lochtars swam toward me. Yes, take me, not Ayla. Its petite but arthritic hand slid effortlessly into my chest, tightening around my organs. It was as if a thousand pins pierced my heart. It beat erratically and then stopped. My legs buckled. I couldn’t breathe, but I vowed not to die, not while Ayla needed me. I cast Dispel right into the lochtar’s face and she exploded into a cloud of gray particles.
I fell prone, gasping for air. My heart restarted with a violent shock.
Twenty feet separated me from Ayla. I crawled toward her. Her body arched and flailed as the lochtars swarmed over her. Her screams had turned to an inhuman wail.
“Look at her,” Fortak said. “Daughter of a Duke? All I see is a traitorous scum getting what she deserves.”
I tried to throw more magic at the lochtars, but only a dull ache remained in my gut. I crawled with no idea what I could do if I reached her. I just didn’t want her to die alone. “Hold on,” I wanted to tell her, but no words came out.
“Yolanda!” Caradan yelled.
A seething cloud, black as the darkest crypt, materialized between Fortak and me. It expanded from nothing, coalescing into a vague human form forty feet tall, towering above us all.
“What have they done to you?”
It stamped one foot and a blast wave raced outward, pushing back the gray mist for a hundred feet in all directions. Its impact obliterated every lochtar, revenant, and wraith, grinding them into ash that fell like snow. Ayla slumped to the ground, unmoving. The total silence was unnerving.
Fortak stumbled backward, mouth agape. His dilated pupils and hoarse, raspy breathing betrayed him. If I lost everything now it would have almost been worth it to see his disbelief.
“How did you do this? I…”
I scrambled to my feet and smoothed my Guild robe, brushing off the ash. “You’re finished Prime Guildmaster.”
Freed from the revenants, Semplis and Wampor sprinted forward, hurling spells against Caradan. Their magic fizzled against his hazy, undulating form.
“No,” I said, reaching for them, trying to swat away their raised arms. “It was he that I summoned. He fights with us.”
I hoped that was still the case.
“I am the greatest Prime Guildmaster that ever lived,” Caradan said. “How dare you.”
He stamped his foot once more and a second wall of energy pulsed through me, almost sweeping me off my feet. Energy sparked between the masters as they hastened to erect a shield, but too late. Caradan’s own spell tore into them, lifting them high into the air and carrying all three of them, Kolta too, away into the darkness. The mist swallowed them and their wailing cries diminished, giving an indication of the distance he had hurled them.
Fortak, Phyxia, Ayla, and I remained. I peered at the gigantic Caradan. Thankfully the binding magic still burned within me, but I didn’t feel like testing the control that I had over him.
“Yolanda, I’m sorry for what I did to you.” He crossed to Ayla in two ten-feet strides. His night-black form writhed and morphed between human and wraith. “I can’t bear this torment inside me. I miss you. Tell me you forgive me.”
“Caradan,” I said. “The elemental. Save the city.”
“She’s mine. I stay.”
“No,” I said, trying to appear strong while inside I wanted to pee myself. “Our bond demands you obey me. Destroy that creature.”
He raised his maul-like arms above me. A powerful suction tugged me toward his seething cloud of a body—a promise of eternal blackness.
“Do not test your fragile bond,” he said.
“Kill it for me…my lord,” Ayla whispered.
My heart skipped and I choked for breath. Thank the Gods. She still lived.
Caradan said nothing, simply tapered into an arrow and arced high into the sky. He penetrated the firestorm of the elemental and vanished within its bulk. No sound from the real world reached us here in The Gray, but I imagined the elemental roaring with pain. It drew in on itself, twisting, contorting, desperate to evade the wraith that burrowed within.
I rushed to Ayla, fell beside her, and gathered her into my arms. Wicked purple welts covered her body and she twitched uncontrollably. I kissed her repeatedly. Her lack of response stabbed me like a dagger. A tear dripped from my face onto her lips.
Fortak watched me, his expression masked. I wanted to damn him, curse him but no words could do my anger justice.
She stopped twitching. I gave her a gentle shake but she hung limp like a child’s doll. I put my cheek to her mouth. Did she breathe? I couldn’t tell past my own trembling. I held her tight, stroked her hair, and freed the strands stuck to her blood-streaked face. I prayed that she knew I was there.
Hold on, I beg you. Don’t leave me.
The sky brightened as Caradan rapidly shredded the elemental. The fires in the city had diminished, but I had no cause to celebrate, not at the cost of Ayla.
Fortak whirled and grabbed Phyxia by her wrist, so hard I expected to hear her dainty bones break. She didn’t flinch.
“This is your fault,” he said. “You had this planned all along. Your kind disgusts me.”
He withdrew a serpentlike blade from his robe, seized her from behind, and brought the blade to her throat. A thin bead of blood trickled down her flawless neck. Even then, she offered no resistance.
“Last chance,” he whispered into one of her tall ears. “Unbind my elemental or I will slice off your head, inch by inch.”
He panted rapid breaths and his nostrils flared, yet his blade on her throat was rock steady. She raised her head to look him in the eye. Gray flecks drifted calmly around her irises. Then her skin shimmered like a heat haze. It turned darker and then erupted into flame. I held my ground, but Fortak cried out and leaped back. His knife tumbled from his hand and he nursed his blistered arm. Her whole body blazed but she remained unharmed by the heat. Her long hair had transformed into a flaming torch, yet did not burn. Scorching heat radiated from the inferno of her body.
“What are you doing?” Fortak asked.
I jerked my gaze upward. The tattered remnants of the elemental spiraled down in a tight vortex around her and into her.
Fortak fell to his knees, his unburned hand reaching for her, his eyes wide and feral.
“You fool,” he said. “You think you can consume that thing? I dare you. It will devour you from within and your death shall free it.”
The man was completely delusional. If she lost that battle of wills then we all lost. His control had failed long ago and it was all too obvious that hers was failing too. Visions of Malkandrah gutted to rubble flashed before my eyes, its people incinerated and flocking to
The Gray as angry revenants, forever haunting the ghostly ruins. I imagined the pitiful wailing of women and children in my head.
“And now I’ll deal with you.” Fortak had regained his footing and took a stride toward me, arm raised, fingers splayed. Incredible magic tore from his fingers and enveloped Ayla and me.
A low, rumbling moan sounded from everywhere at once. Something shoved me from her and I winced as her head thudded against the oozing, brackish ground that mirrored the plaza cobbles in the real world. I came up onto all fours, staring into the face of a demonic creature as it materialized above her still body, lying atop her like some perverted tantric ritual. It bellowed at me, drenching me in hot, slimy drool.
Kristach! An Incuba.
Then it drank from her life force, breathing deep and sucking it from pustules that formed all over her skin before bursting with sprays of gunk. The sparkling, purple substance spiraled up into the thing’s mouth. The slurping, smacking noises made my stomach lurch.
I tried futilely to shove it aside, but even incorporeal, it remained as firm as a rock. My Dispels had no effect. More potent spells were impossible—my gut growled, empty of magic. I pummeled it with my fists. It paid me no attention.
No more. It ended now.
I snatched my dagger from its sheath and advanced on Fortak.
“Stay back,” he said.
Not a chance. I marched up to him and glanced at Phyxia one step behind him.
The last of the elemental disappeared into her. Her gaze met mine and the streaks in her irises whirled faster than I had ever seen. Pain tortured her face, distorting her timeless beauty. Blisters etched along her arms. What had she done?
“All that is left is your choice,” she whimpered.
Time slowed to a crawl. She’d used the same phrase in the plaza earlier. No, then she had said “choices.” My heart thumped in my chest and blood surged into my brain, delivering clarity. My gaze dropped to the Ashtar dagger in my hand.
Choose.
Kill Phyxia and with her the elemental: the city is saved but Fortak lives and my darling Ayla dies.
Kill Fortak: Ayla lives but the elemental breaks free and the city is consumed.
