The Arclight Saga

by C. M. Hayden

  “My essence is still very much contained. This is simply a projection, nothing more. Your friend’s body is still outside. If you want her to live, go ahead and finish what you started.”

  “Just a projection?” Kurian said. He walked toward the image of the Warden and up to the key console.

  “What are you doing?” the Warden asked. I was curious as well.

  Kurian’s fingers danced over the key console, and suddenly the Warden practically snarled. Her image flickered hard, and she grasped the air in Kurian’s direction, but seemed unable to do much of anything. “Stop!”

  Kurian finished and hurried back to my side.

  “What did you do?” I asked.

  “We have to go. Now.”

  - 17 -

  Dragonfire

  Kurian didn’t give me much time to think about it. He grabbed me by the arm, and we ran toward the ledge together. As we neared, I realized we were about to jump. Against my better impulses, I followed him over the ledge and we fell freely for a moment. Soon, Kurian transformed into his dragon form. I could feel his body rearranging itself against me, as his flesh turned to scales. As we glided down to the floor, the structure around us began to shake.

  The iron pipes along the walls burst open, spewing noxious smoke into the chamber. The chains overhead rattled. The lights flickered. It was like an earthquake, and I could hear the foundations of the tree creak and crack.

  “We’ve got maybe ten minutes to get out of here,” Kurian said, as he touched down onto the floor.

  “What did you do?” I asked.

  “The Illdricyte the Liat have been gathering for the Magisterium. It comes from the branches of Syseril,” Kurian said. “There’s thousands of tons here, and I turned the reactors in on themselves. Soon, they’ll overheat, taking the tree—and hopefully that monster—with it.”

  “But it said before that the explosion couldn’t kill it,” I said, as we ran toward the exit. Bits of stone and steel were falling from up high, smashing into the ground. I dodged them as best I could, knowing one wrong move would end in disaster.

  “I don’t think we can trust anything she said. There has to be a chance it will work though, otherwise Craetos wouldn’t have made it an option in the first place.”

  We exited into the mist-covered clearing around the entrance. Even with the rumbling of the World Tree behind us, my ears caught the familiar rush of steam and air that accompanied one of the Magisterium’s airships. The Eventide was nearby, hovering a few yards off the ground.

  Around it stood Magister Ross and the four members of Team Cidrin. They’d pulled the altar out of the main chamber and were loading the device into the airship. Kadia and Fenn were nearby too, on makeshift stretchers, being hauled up the side of the ship with a series of ropes and pullies.

  As warders and magisters filed down the rope ladders of the Eventide, Ross was barking orders to them.

  “We need to make a perimeter,” she said to one of the warder-captains. “We’ll start sweeps in groups of four, one magister and three warders to a group. I want—”

  Mid-sentence, she noticed us. At this point, Kurian was in his full dragon form. It must’ve been a startling site for the warders, as they took up a defensive posture around Ross and drew their swords.

  Me and Kurian didn’t get far, however. On the ground beside the dragon pillar, Magister Lao’s body stirred. Tendrils erupted from the decayed flesh, and it propped up in a shamble. There was no more talking, no more threats, Sith-Narosa wrapped its tendrils around Kurian’s arms and legs. Despite Kurian’s new size and strength, he seemed completely outmatched. I held onto him for dear life, by the back of the neck, before I felt an intense heat coming from his scales. His chest and neck began to glow red, and before I knew what was happening, a great burst of flames erupted from his throat.

  The fire ripped through the creature’s flesh like it was made of ice. It cried out with such a hideous scream that I had to cover my ears. I tumbled off Kurian’s back. The creature brought one of its tendrils around and slashed Kurian across the eye, leaving a trail of dark blood.

  “Go!” Kurian shouted to me.

  He and the creature slashed at each other. Kurian breathed fire again, so intense that I could feel the sweat from my skin crackling in the heat and smell the scent of my own burning hair.

  The flames ripped through Sith-Narosa again, momentarily stunning it. Kurian’s eyes met Magister Ross’, and he shouted. “Get her out of here.” His voice was unmistakable.

  Ross sprinted toward me, and she wrapped her arms around my torso.

  “Let’s go, Kyra,” she said, dragging me along.

  I tried to pull free of her. “We can’t leave him,” I said, struggling. “Let me go.”

  When she showed no signs of letting up, my impulses took over, and I punched her square in the face. Her spectacles shattered and fell to the ground. I’d used far too much templar in the punch, and had she been an ordinary person, it might’ve killed her. Instead, she staggered back and fell hard, her mouth and eyes coated with blood. I’d made a terrible mistake, but I didn’t care. While Kurian held Sith-Narosa at bay, and with Ross temporarily out of commission, I retrieved my inscriber and got to work.

  No, I couldn’t fight with Kurian. But I had another idea. I sprinted around the battlefield in a circle, writing long runes directly into the stones on the ground. They were sloppy, they were rushed, but they’d have to do.

  My inscribing was punctuated by huge plumes of fire and smoke, and the two titans nearby trying to rip each other apart. Finally, I finished. It was the largest enchantment I’d ever tried in my life. If it were smaller, and I was at my best, it would’ve been simple. But it was fifty times the normal size, and I was exhausted.

  “Kurian!” I shouted, momentarily grabbing his attention. “Get out of the circle!”

  Kurian seemed to understand. He pressed the monster into the dirt, and sent a jet of flames directly through its torso. Every time he damaged it, however, it simply grew larger and more hideous. Very little of Magister Lao’s body was left. Nevertheless, it was stunned. Kurian took to the air and hurried out of the circle of runes.

  I pressed my hands to the runes and tried to focus despite the assault on my senses. I put every bit of my templar into activating the enchantment, but it was no use. I was spent.

  “I need your help,” I shouted to Kurian.

  Kurian swooped down, and he returned to his human form. His eyes scanned the enchantment, then looked up at the creature. Sith-Narosa had recovered and was shambling toward us. There was no longer any semblance of humanity left in it. It was simply a mash of flesh and eyes and teeth intent on murdering us.

  Kurian pressed his hands to the circle of runes. They flashed, momentarily, but did not activate.

  “I can’t do it,” Kurian said, panting.

  I took his hand in mine. “Together?” I said.

  Kurian’s eyes caught mine. “Together,” he repeated.

  We placed our hands to the runes, and they glowed like the sun. Everything in the center of the circle went up in a great hiss of steam, and all the moisture was drained from every blade of grass, every pool of water, and the creature screamed as it became a dry husk and crumbled to dust.

  Kurian turned to me with an overjoyed look on his face, but I was already out of it. I couldn’t stand, let alone speak, and I felt myself fall backward onto the ground.

  The last thing I remember were his eyes, those beautiful amber eyes, staring down at me. I felt him lift me up, and in that moment, I knew I was safe.

  - 18 -

  Explanations

  When I awoke, I knew exactly where I was. I could feel it in the gears grinding behind the walls, in the faint smell of oil in some nearby room. I was home. The Magisterium.

  Specifically, I was in the infirmary. It was a place I was all too familiar with, as injuries were an unfortunately common occurrence for an artificer. I’d broken two ribs last year in Magister Su
llen’s templary lessons, and the Artificium could be a veritable death trap. Even if you were careful, cuts and scrapes were commonplace.

  What I was not ready for was my father and Magister Ross standing near my bedside. Ross had bandages on her face, and she didn’t look particularly pleased. They didn’t seem to notice I was awake.

  “Incinerated?” my father said.

  “The entire village, Your Majesty,” Ross said. “At least two hundred dead, a dozen or so of them artificers. The World Tree destroyed. Our best source of Illdricyte in ruins. We may never recover from this. Kurian has already admitted to it.”

  “What’s to be done with him?” my father asked.

  “That’s up to you, sire,” Ross said.

  A familiar voice called from the doorway to the infirmary. It was calm and cool but carried the weight of command.

  “In fact,” Antherion groused. “It is not.”

  In all the time I’d been at the Magisterium I had never seen Antherion outside of the Conservatorium. Based on the reactions of Ross and my father, they hadn’t either. Antherion was in his human form, his wings tucked neatly behind his back.

  Ross didn’t greet him kindly. “You should speak to your king with more respect,” she said.

  “With respect,” he said, holding on that last word for a while, “he is not my king. Nor is he Kurian’s. If the boy is to face charges, it must be in Castiana with his kin, not here.”

  I finally spoke up, my voice felt thick and the words didn’t come easily. “Dad. Please, Kurian saved me.”

  My father came to my side and ran his hand along the side of my face. “Kyra, don’t try to move.”

  I pulled myself up anyway, propping my back onto the bedpost. “Kurian is the bravest person I’ve ever met. He fought that creature; he saved me twice-over.”

  My father looked back to Ross. “What did the boy call it? Sith-something.”

  “Sith-Narosa,” Antherion said. He sounded surprised, as if this was the first he’d heard of it. I’d never known the dragon to be surprised about anything, ever.

  “He didn’t tell you?” I asked.

  Antherion shook his head. “I can see why he wouldn’t.”

  “But he destroyed it. I was there, it crumbled to dust.”

  Antherion looked at me like I was a simpleton. “No, child, an evil like that can’t be destroyed by any means we here possess. By now, my kin will have quarantined the area; they won’t allow the Magisterium to continue harvesting Illdricyte there.”

  “They won’t allow us?” Ross said, affronted.

  “No, they will not,” Antherion said sternly. “If a single dry sliver of that creature survived the explosion, it can reconstitute itself.”

  “How long would that take?” I asked.

  “Impossible to say. Centuries at least, I’m sure.” Antherion didn’t sound too convinced of his own words.

  Ross touched my father on the shoulder. “Your Majesty, we can’t allow the dragonkin to dictate what we do.”

  “If you’ve got another recommendation, I’m willing to hear it,” my father said.

  Ross sighed hard, and brushed some of the hair from her forehead. “I don’t.”

  My father shrugged. “Very well. Return Kurian to his kin. Do it personally, my old friend.”

  “He must be punished,” Ross interjected.

  My father looked at me. I didn’t say anything. He let out a long, drawn-out sigh. “Very well.” His eyes met mine as he spoke. “Kurian is hereby stripped of his rank and title. I attaint him and banish him from Endra Edûn and all lands under my rule for the remainder of his life.”

  “Dad, please,” I said, leaning forward so fast it felt liked my stitches were going to come loose.

  “And,” Ross added, gesturing at the bandages on her face, “there’s still the matter of your daughter’s assault on me.”

  “I didn’t mean to hit you…” I bit my lip. “…that hard.”

  “Of course not,” Ross said, looking expectantly at my father.

  My father hesitated, seeming to mull it over. He looked at Ross and smiled. “Amelia, I’m sure you’re misremembering. I’m certain my daughter would never strike a superior officer.”

  Ross grimaced. She knew what he was getting at. “I suppose I could be misremembering,” she said hesitantly.

  I stood up from the bed with a fierceness that surprised even myself. “No,” I said.

  “Sit down,” my father said.

  “I struck her. I deserve to be punished,” I said resolutely.

  My father’s voice softened a bit. “Kyra, this isn’t something you need to worry about. I’ll handle it.”

  “I don’t want your protection,” I said. “I’ll accept my punishment.”

  Ross raised an eyebrow. “And if that punishment is a court martial and expulsion from the Magisterium?”

  I looked down at my feet and shuttered. “Then I accept it.”

  Magister Ross looked surprised. “I see.”

  My heart fell in my chest. What would I do without the Magisterium? This was my life. I hated being in court. I hated being in the palace. This was where I belonged.

  My father looked expectantly at Magister Ross. “Very well. Punish her as you see fit.”

  Ross decided quickly. “As of now, you are on academic probation,” she said. “During this time, you’ll remain an artificer and serve under me, at my discretion. You will not be permitted to trial until such a time as I deem it appropriate.”

  I felt hope swelling inside of me, and I fought off the urge to smile. Another few years as an artificer. I could do that.

  “What about Fenn and Kadia?” I asked Ross. Had my wit not been so addled, their safety would’ve been the first thing on my mind.

  This seemed to unnerve Ross, and she took her glasses off and wiped them with her sleeve. “Both will live. However, Kadia may never truly recover. Her wounds are deeper than the flesh. As for Fenn—”

  Almost on cue, I heard Fenn’s nasally voice call from one of the alcoves on the other side of the infirmary. “Excuse me!? I’m dying here. Could I get a nurse? I survived being stabbed by a monster, but I can’t get a second blanket? It’s freezing.”

  Ross looked briefly in the direction of his voice. “He’ll survive.”

  “He was surprisingly brave, near the end,” I said.

  “So I’ve heard,” Ross said appreciatively. “And, when he settles down, I’ll inform him of the honorable citation he’s to receive for valor.”

  After we spoke, Antherion, Ross, and my father left to talk amongst themselves.

  An hour later, the door stirred again and Kadia’s sister, Vexis, entered. She was the spitting image of Kadia, and when she passed me, I saw there were tears in her eyes.

  A man was with her. He was so old and haggard that he looked only a few steps from death. He wore a white doctor’s robe and walked with a crooked black cane. He didn’t speak, but I felt his eyes darting around the room. There was something unnerving about him. Something wrong.

  Vexis saw me and hurried to my bedside. She didn’t bother with any preamble. “They told me my sister’s hurt. Have you seen her?”

  I hadn’t, actually, but moments earlier I’d seen several of the nurses coming in and out of one of the private rooms down the hall. I stood, finding it reasonably easy despite my stitches, and walked her and the old man to the room.

  It was dark inside, with only a few candles lit near Kadia’s bedside. She looked tiny laying there. Frail. She was shifting in her covers, almost thrashing. Sith-Narosa had been inside her body for a very long time, and she was lucky to be alive, but its influence had left its mark.

  When Kadia’s eyes met her sister’s, she seemed to calm, slightly. “Vexy,” she said brightly.

  Vexis came up to her bedside and hugged her with a relieved sigh. “Gods below, you’re okay.”

  “They’re coming,” Kadia whispered. “Coming, coming, going.”

  Vexis pulled away
and looked at her sister. There were scars along Kadia’s arms and legs where the creature had burrowed into her, and she was rubbing her hands up and down the stitches she’d gotten, in a frantic motion.

  “What are you talking about?” Vexis asked.

  I looked into Kadia’s eyes. The girl I’d known was gone. Something had cracked in her mind, and all she could do was sway and chant.

  “Snakes in the skin, you know?” Kadia said rhythmically. “Under the trees. Under the woods. It never ends, does it? There’s so much darkness.”

  There were tears in Vexis’ eyes as she suddenly realized what was going on. She put her hand to Kadia’s cheek. “It’s okay, sis,” she said. “I’m here.”

  - 19 -

  Goodbyes

  It wasn’t hard to find Kurian. Truthfully, there was only one place he could really be.

  When I entered the Conservatorium, I heard the sweet flutter of music coming from one of the enormous willow trees near the northern groves. When I found him, his eyes were closed, his hood was up, and his fingers were gliding across the strings of his half harp. He sang with such soft sweetness that I couldn’t bear to interrupt him. When he sang, it reminded me of how I felt that day in the Ghostwoods.

  When he noticed me, he pulled his hood back. I expected him to be upset, but his eyes lit up like he’d never been happier. He set his harp down next to his sword and practically tackled me into a hug.

  “I was so worried,” he said, momentarily lifting me off the ground. “They wouldn’t let me see you.”

  “You were worried?” I said. We broke our hug, though our hands lingered together while we talked. “You were the one fighting a monster. I’ve never seen anything like that before. You’re incredible.”

  Kurian was beaming. “Antherion’s taking me back to Castiana.”

  My expression dropped. “I heard.”

  Kurian ran his hand along the side of my face. “Listen, Kyra, I couldn’t have transformed without you. Thank you.”

  I ran my hand through my short hair. “Oh, sure, anytime you need someone to fall off a ledge, I’m your girl.”