Ez flashed a tender smile and stroked Jekaran’s hair. “I didn’t tell you that at first, because I wanted you to only have the warning. See, I was afraid you’d turn out like me–a fool. But like the poem says, I just couldn’t tell the difference, not until you actually faced the world.
“You risked your life time and again for your friends without letting concern for your own safety hold you back. Even now, right here, you’re ready to give your life to protect those you love. You’re not selfish like I was. Don’t you understand? You are not a fool, Jekaran. You’re a hero.”
Jekaran broke into tears. “But I killed you, Ez.”
Ezra shook his head of unruly gray hair. “I gave my life to free you from the sword. And even in that I was a fool. For I thought you couldn’t handle its power, but I was wrong. You’re perhaps the only one in all of Shaelar who can.”
“Ez…”
“Now stop belly aching and get up! Use your gift to save yourself and the rest of us!”
Ez disappeared, as did the ball of light hovering above the slave girl. Time unfroze, and the point of the woman’s rapier shot toward Jekaran’s face. But, instead of dodging to the side, Jekaran shot his arm out, grabbed his sword and leapt up and toward the slave girl. Her rapier took him in the chest, just as he ran his sword through her heart.
They stared at each other, both mortally impaled, both silent. Jekaran willed the emerald shards on his blade to life and they exploded into a shine. A rush of energy flowed from the dying woman into the sword, and then into Jekaran himself.
The woman’s eyes focused, the blank look of one controlled by an ego talis disappeared, and a tear spilled down her left cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Jekaran’s healing flesh pushed her rapier out of his chest and it clattered to the ground. The woman closed her eyes, a relieved look on her face as she withered to little more than a skeleton in a dress. The bones fell apart, and Jekaran wrenched his blade out of her ribcage.
He glanced around the room looking for the mysterious ball of light that had heralded the appearance of his dead uncle, but found Kairah instead. She was kneeling on the floor next to the bronze cube, eyes clenched shut and mouth twisted in a grimace of pain.
He ran to her. “Kairah!” When he touched her shoulder, he yelped and snapped his hand back. “You’re burning!”
Kairah nodded, keeping her eyes closed. “It is the ring.”
Jekaran glanced at her hand and found a band of hot white light where the silver ring had been. “What’s happening?”
Kairah shook her head. “We need to get to the Mother Shard.”
Shivara hung in the air raining spears of white light down like judgments from heaven. Jenoc moved quickly, dodging and weaving between the room’s massive marble columns. He flung twin lines of black at Shivara–slices that in reality opened into the abyss of space beyond Shaelar– but she dismissed them with a casual wave of her hand before they could reach her.
She retaliated with a spear of white light that tore through the top of the pillar Jenoc had used for cover. Chunks of marble the size of a man crashed to the floor around him, and the remnants of the pillar wobbled. Jenoc telekinetically picked up the falling column and hurled it into the air to intercept more spears of light. The airborne pillar exploded and Jenoc used the screen of dust and debris to veil his teleport. He appeared in the air just above and behind Shivara and let himself fall, grabbing the oracle and taking her down with him.
Before they struck the ground, a wave of pure force exploded from Shivara, tearing free one of Jenoc’s arms and hurling him back dozens of feet. Jenoc slammed into the chamber wall, and then fell twenty feet to the ground. His bones were knitting back together and his arm reforming before he even stood.
Such a dramatic healing cost him dearly, and once again, his Apeiron store was diminishing at an alarming rate. Even so, Jenoc held so much energy that even half was far more than he’d ever held as an Allosian.
A cage of red lines sprung up around him, but Jenoc countered with a sphere of force that bubbled out from him and dispelled the thin lines of crimson fire. A pulsing ball of black energy flew at him, and Jenoc threw up a translucent purple wall. He gasped when the black sphere passed through his shield without stopping, and he had to teleport out of the way. He reappeared behind Shivara, but she whirled before he could cast and blasted him at near point-blank range.
Jenoc flew backward, but this time slowed himself before impacting a marble column by molding gravity below and behind him. He landed on the floor, threw his hands forward, and twin spears of light, identical to Shivara’s favored attack, exploded toward the oracle. Her eyes widened and she quickly wrapped herself in translucent green energy that absorbed the spell.
“You learned that spell just from watching me cast it?”
Jenoc kept his hands up, readying several more spells. “I am a quick study.”
“You are indeed the prodigy everyone claims you to be.”
“This cannot go on indefinitely, Shivara. One of us will eventually run out of Apeiron. Skill with spell-casting will not decide this fight.”
“I agree. But you will not outlast me. I have an Apeira well’s worth of stored energy. Surrender now, and I will let you join with me, Jenoc.” Shivara reached out a hand. “Be my consort and I will teach you wonderful secrets, and not just spell-casting techniques.” She smirked.
Rage within begged Jenoc to strike out, but he struggled through the impulse, and clung to reason. Attacking Shivara outright wasn’t working. She was far more skilled in spell-casting as well as using Moriora for him to hope to best her.
Kairah.
He focused on his sister, picturing her smile as she proudly gifted him the worthless geode, a treasure that became the most valuable of all his worldly possessions. Jenoc’s thoughts began to clear, and he was able to analyze the situation in his familiar logical way.
He cast a spell of his own design, one that he’d often used on fellow Allosians in the synod to gauge their receptivity to his proposals. It was a minor mind probe, one Jenoc had crafted to be nearly undetectable. It wouldn’t penetrate the target’s mind, but would get close enough to perceive feelings, attitudes, and intentions. He’d compared it to listening at a door when trying to teach it to Kairah.
Shivara narrowed her eyes, and Jenoc tensed. Only if a spell-caster knew what to look for would they be able to detect Jenoc’s light psychic touch. A breathless eternity passed, and when Shivara didn’t react, Jenoc exhaled softly.
A stream of impressions floated into Jenoc’s mind. Shivara was obsessed with the ascended being Kairah had mentioned. The image of the man with metallic gold hair was ever in the forefront of her thoughts, and she was increasingly worried that he would abandon her.
Beyond that was a surprising amount of mental and emotional discipline, so much so that Jenoc couldn’t see past her psychic barriers, at least not without pushing harder which would alert Shivara. But those walls of discipline were weakening and bulging like a failing dam holding back a flood.
Jenoc moved away from Shivara’s psychic wall, and gently sifted through more of Shivara’s unguarded thoughts. She was sincere in her offer to accept him, but they would not be equals. He would be her servant. After outliving all her loved ones, Shivara was lonely and wanted a companion. That need had become twisted and was the impetus behind her keeping mindless slaves about her. But she wanted more than just playthings. A thousand years of life and secrecy had made Shivara desperate for an intelligent companion.
Shivara was vain and prized her survival above all else. She wanted power, and despite her claims to the contrary, the intensity of her despair, and her weakening barrier of mental discipline convinced Jenoc that she was already quite mad. A desperate idea began to take the shape of a plan.
Kairah.
Jenoc retreated from Shivara’s mind, lowered his hands and straightened. “I know when I am beaten.”
A satisfied, and triumphant rub
y-lipped smile spread across her face.
“You are impressive and beautiful, Lady Shivara. I do not wish to die, and so I will accept your offer upon one condition.”
Shivara’s smile disappeared. “You dare dictate conditions to me?”
Jenoc bowed his head. “Perhaps I should have phrased it as a request.”
Shivara lifted her chin, suspicious eyes studying Jenoc. A spell similar to his light mind probe fluttered against his consciousness, and he quickly sealed up his true intentions behind an iron façade of resignation and selfish intrigue. Apparently, it fooled the false oracle, for she retreated from his mind and smiled again.
Shivara walked toward him. “Very well, Jenoc. What is this condition?” She stopped three paces in front of him.
“That you spare my sister.” Jenoc’s jaw tightened as he detected another subtle scan of his thoughts. “Instruct your servant to allow Kairah to leave in peace.”
“And if she goes to the synod?”
“They are no threat to you, no threat to us. Can we not come out of the shadows to openly rule Allose?”
Shivara took another step closer. “Why the sudden change of heart?”
“Because I am beaten.” Jenoc made sure to decorate that thought as a deception Shivara could easily detect.
“You’re lying.”
Jenoc released another carefully manicured thought as though he’d been trying to hide it. “You are now my only hope for wiping out the humans. If the only way I can have my vengeance is by joining you, then so be it.”
Jenoc stared unflinching into Shivara’s green eyes, and it took all his effort, skill, and subtlety to remain confident and mask his true intentions.
“My, my. You are single minded, aren’t you?” She gave a throaty chuckle. “I could find other applications for that.”
Shivara’s mind probe retreated and she slinked forward and put her arms over Jenoc’s shoulders and clasped her hands behind his neck. She looked at him for a beat, and then passionately kissed him. Jenoc kissed her back with twice as much ferocity, pulling her into him so their bodies pressed together.
One of the many ways Jenoc excelled in spell-casting was his natural talent and command of the Second Discipline–elemental. He could cast faster than anyone in the history of the College of Disciplines, and early on in his arcane career had broken dozens of records. It was almost an automatic thing for him, the time between his aura flaring and the manifestation of the spell nearly instantaneous. It made him difficult to defeat in caster duels, as his opponents were always caught off guard when he wove the elements.
His solution was basic, and underwhelming, and truth be told he had gleaned the idea from prince Raelen’s aerial attack on his army hours earlier. But Shivara wouldn’t be expecting something simple from Jenoc, not after he’d impressed her so. His only reservation was that he wasn’t certain if Kairah had gotten away. His concentration wouldn’t let him cast his mind out to find her. She’d had a strong head start and was cunning. She would have gotten out, he told himself, though it brought little comfort. Now was his chance, and if he didn’t take it, Shivara was certain to murder both he and his sister. Jenoc didn’t have a choice.
They broke their kiss and Shivara licked her lips. Jenoc smiled and let his psychic guard down. Shivara’s eyes widened, but it was too late. A supernova of red fire engulfed them both as it exploded outward.
Jenoc’s final thought was of a beaming young girl proffering a geode to him.
Kairah registered the explosion just as the red inferno erupted through the walls. Instinct took over and she grabbed Jekaran by the hand causing him to hiss in pain at her burning touch. With her other hand, she touched Jekaran’s sword on the ground beside them and cast. A transparent, glass-like sphere encased them, shielding them from the firestorm roaring all about. Then in a flash of white light, they vanished.
Raelen raised his forearm to shield himself from the heat. An explosion of red flames, not unlike the fire produced by the flare kris now borne by Maely, ripped out of the top of the tower.
“Kairah!” Maely screamed and clenched tighter to Raelen’s forearm.
The tower crashed down in a storm of white dust and flying pieces of stone. A globe of light produced by Karak shot into the air above, pulsed, and a bubble of blue energy engulfed them. It deflected several large chunks of debris and remained until the demolition was complete and the dust settled.
The globe of light that had protected them floated down and hovered in front of Karak’s reptilian face. “Fey girl gone, aka.”
Raelen gently disengaged himself from Maely and made sure she was balanced on her good leg before he took a step toward the mountain of rubble. “Jenoc, too, is dead then?”
It wasn’t the end he’d hoped to have administered to the warmonger himself, but Raelen supposed this was justice enough for the horrors Jenoc had wrought. Seiro dictated that vengeance was acceptable only as it also served justice. Anger at wrongs was the sign of a noble soul, but to lose one’s self to hate was destructive. Though disappointed, Raelen found that he was also relieved. He’d been skirting that line. It was probably for the best that Jenoc had not died by his own hand.
Gryyth. Tenets of Seiro were so completely enmeshed in his relationship with the Ursaj that thinking of them dredged up his yet unexplored grief. He wished his friend were with him. Raelen hadn’t realized how much he relied on the Ursaj for comfort and confidence. It was like losing Saranna all over again.
“Uska, not dead. Fey girl gone, aka.”
“She got away?” Maely asked.
“Ssk. Have to find, aka. Stop Eater, aek.”
Maely frowned. “Wait, I thought Jenoc was the Eater.”
An explosion erupted from within the mountain of rubble, and Raelen had to duck to escape a chunk of white rock crushing his head. The dust settled around a solitary figure; blackened so severely that he looked like a three-dimensional shadow. Although his back was to them, Raelen could see that a quarter of the top of his head was missing. Smoke billowed from his burnt skin as he surveyed his surroundings.
He turned his head in their direction and stopped. A single dot of green glowed where his one eye should’ve been. Then an aura of the same-colored energy outlined the figure, and a spread of tendrils launched at them.
Raelen leapt in front of Maely and deflected three of the ghostly tentacles. The others struck at Karak like vipers, but vanished upon contact with his scaly bronze skin. White teeth appeared on the creature’s burnt face in a parody of a smile.
“My Prince,” it rasped.
Divine Mother, it’s Jenoc! Burnt beyond recognition, but there was no mistaking that condescending voice even through its hoarse tone.
“Jenoc,” Maely gasped.
Jenoc began to trundle down the mountain of debris, green tentacles reforming and floating all about him.
“Maely!” Raelen shouted.
The girl raised the flare kris and pointed the blade at Jenoc, and an explosion of red flame engulfed him. They were so close to the blast the intense heat scalded Raelen’s skin. The fire faded but Jenoc remained, outlined in that same green energy, it swirled about him like a shield. His blackened skin began to crack, and then smooth, color returning to parts of his face.
Maely raised the red steel sword again, but Raelen grabbed her wrist. She looked up at him, eyes wide. Raelen shook his head. “He’s somehow absorbing the talis’s magic and using it to heal himself.”
Jenoc resumed shuffling toward them. “You have proved a clever adversary, My Prince. I admit, I underestimated your tenacity and resourcefulness.”
There was something wrong in Jenoc’s voice. It was not the rasp that had disappeared when he healed himself, but the way he said his words. His self-possession and aura of purpose were gone, and although he’d always been an enemy, now he seemed a dangerous predator. He was injured, feral, and insane.
Raelen charged, batting away two striking tendrils and leaping at Jenoc. He spun i
n the air and cracked the monster across the face with a hand–the one missing fingers. Flakes of the man’s charred skin sloughed off his face, and Jenoc staggered backward. Raelen followed up with a knee to the stomach, and then threw both hands forward with open palms and struck Jenoc in the chest. Raelen heard ribs crack, and the monster flew into the mountain of rubble. He watched the pathetic creature writhing, and realized that his rage and hate for the man were gone. All he felt was a sick pity for Jenoc, and an obligation to put him down like a rabid dog.
Jenoc laughed as he rose and threw a burnt hand out with a bolt of green lightning that arced into Raelen. The blast burned through his thigh, and he went down. Maely screamed, and Raelen rolled onto his side to see her. Jenoc was shambling toward Maely who was tripping and trying to run.
She blasted Jenoc with another red flare, and Raelen couldn’t blame her, but like before Jenoc shielded himself with his green magic and further healed himself; though he was still horribly burnt and disfigured. Raelen struggled to stand, but his upper leg spasmed and he collapsed.
Pain is as the wind and I am the ancient tree.
It can blow and blow against my bark, but I do not bend.
It took all his physical strength and power of will, but he managed to rise. He longed for the transference band and the Ursaj level of stamina it provided, but even if Gryyth were still alive, it would be useless while he wore the emerald shard that protected him.
Jenoc closed on Maely, green tendrils reforming and snaking toward her. “We’re not finished, Pariel!” Raelen shouted in hopes that he could divert the monster. But Jenoc ignored him. He was intent on killing Maely, probably so he could drain her life and use it to fully repair his body.
Raelen hobbled forward as fast as he could, but he wouldn’t reach Maely in time.
Sharp pain shocked Maely’s broken leg as she tried to run. She tripped, and the impact from her fall drew a scream from her lips. Jenoc loomed over her, tentacles of translucent green energy spreading out from his chest and back, making him look like he had the wings of a twisted angel.
The Lure of Fools Page 91
