Alora: The Portal (32 page)

“We’re leaving right now.” With a click of his lighter, Charles set fire to the wick and flung the Molotov cocktail to shatter at Mo’s feet. Flaming liquid fanned out, splashing onto the floor and up onto all three sentries. Without waiting to see the results, Charles whipped around to chase after the boys. Terrified screams sounded behind him, and he prayed the fiery blockade would be sufficient to stop any pursuing guards. But soon he heard pounding footsteps in pursuit. The footsteps grew closer, gaining on him as the boys pulled away.

Risking a quick glance over his shoulder, he saw two young burly guards a mere twenty-five yards behind him. He grasped the neck of the other bottle and clicked the lighter. A spark, but no flame. Again. Again the lighter flashed, but the flame wouldn’t catch. He moved the Molotov cocktail to his left hand and tried the lighter with his right thumb. At last, it worked.
But his efforts had cost him much of his lead. The warriors were close.

Dropping the lighter, he grabbed the bottle, twisting to throw without breaking stride. He heard the crash and yelling behind him.
No more footsteps.
He picked up his pace again, but the boys were out of sight.

Rounding the bend, he spied them, thirty yards ahead, standing on a stone bench set back in an alcove. Markaeus reached up, sliding his hand across the smooth polished wall, and Charles saw a black opening appear. Haegen dashed inside as Markaeus stood on the bench, motioning with his hand. “Hurry, Uncle Charles! Hurry!”

But Charles heard another set of footsteps behind him. Twisting his head, he discovered yet another sentry giving chase. “Go on!” Charles yelled at Markaeus. Slowing, he reached into his pocket, retrieving the Taser. “I’m almost out of tricks,” he muttered to himself.

He stopped, bending over to hold his knees, as if he were catching his breath. It wasn’t much of an act. With his right side away from the guard, he hid the Taser behind his leg. The guard slowed as he approached, probably nervous after seeing the results of the two Molotov cocktails. Though shorter than Charles, the young warrior possessed massive muscles that flexed and bulged as he lifted his sword.

“I surrender. I’m too tired to run.” Charles puffed out the breathless words.

“Don’t move.” The warrior approached with caution, poised to attack.

Charles froze in his bent position, watching the sentry’s progress from the corner of his eye. Just a few more steps. The Taser had a range of up to fifteen feet, but he’d never fired it at anyone before. He preferred to have his target at close range.

“How did you make the fire? Are you shaman gifted?” The brawny guard moved his left hand inside the fold of his tunic, retrieving a gleaming knife, which he held in throwing position.

Great… he’s got two weapons, and he’s bound to be gifted. I sure hope this works.

Charles straightened, raising the Taser and aiming at the guard’s chest. As the guard opened his mouth to speak, Charles squeezed the trigger. He heard a spark, and his vision blurred. He held out his hands, attempting to balance against a sudden bout of vertigo.

Blinking, Charles attempted to make sense of his surroundings. The corridor was gone. He was inside a strange rounded covering, like a giant opaque plastic dome—taller than he could reach, and the guard was gone. Before him stood a tall, thin woman with board-straight blond hair, whose face was turned to the ceiling while her hands extended out like a cross. Then his eyes focused on a horrific sight. On either side of the stiff woman, Kaevin and Alora were stretched out on wooden tables, chained by their ankles and wrists. Unmoving. Dead. Their faces forever frozen with identical expressions of agony. Alora’s arms were covered in the raw, blistered evidence of her torture.

A sob escaped his lips. “No!” he screamed. “No! No! No!” In two steps he was bending over Alora, cupping her cheeks with his hands and wetting her face with his tears. “No! No! You promised you’d stay alive.” He choked the words out, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead.

Why did I let her go on this mission? I knew something terrible would happen
.

Despite his outcries, the albino woman stood motionless as a statue, but for her lips, which moved in silent muttering. Bitter anger welled inside him. He knew without a doubt this woman was implicit in Alora’s and Kaevin’s deaths.

“You know, I’ve always been taught not to hit a woman. But no one ever said anything about using a knife.” He drew a ceramic blade from his pocket, waiting for her response. Still she remained frozen. He lifted his blade.
It’ll feel good to stab this monster in the heart.
He thrust the blade at her, diverting at the last instant and crying out in frustration.
I can’t kill her when she’s catatonic.

He stepped back, drew his knee up and kicked out. The bottom of his boot impacted her abdomen with a satisfying
thunk
. She folded, tumbling to the floor, making eye contact with him at last. The icy look in her cobalt gaze chilled him to the bottom of his spine.

As Drakeon’s voice spoke the lethal order, Alleraen almost shrieked at his powerlessness. He might as well be back behind the iron gate for all the good he’d done. He’d had the opportunity to accomplish something worthwhile with his life, but he’d allowed his selfish rage to take control. Now two innocent children, who happened to also be soulmates and Stone Clan’s greatest hope of victory, would die because of his mistake.

Jireo threw himself against the impervious dome repeatedly until his skin tore. “I must reach Kaevin. I must reach him. Please, God. I must reach him.” His words turned into weeping.

Inside the fog, Empusa stretched her hands to her sides. Though sound didn’t penetrate from within, Kaevin and Alora could be seen crying out in pain.

Graely pounded at the protective shield with his sword. Again and again, like a mad man. Tears poured down Graely’s ravaged face as he watched his son die. Though his sword bounced off every time, he struck again. Over and over. Even when the children closed their eyes and lay still. Even when Morvaen put his hand on his shoulder and spoke his name.

Every clang of Graely’s sword stabbed Alleraen with guilt. Every teardrop flooded him with shame. He turned his head away from the dreadful sight.

“Look! It’s Charles!” Arista shouted, jumping and pointing inside the foggy dome.

“Who is that?” Alleraen asked no one in particular.

“Charles was Alora’s uncle.” Morvaen kept his eyes focused on the man inside the dome, who fell on Alora’s face, in obvious grief.

“I was her uncle, too.”
I let my niece die out of my own bloodlust. I’ve become as much a monster as my brother.

Alleraen wept.

With tears blurring his eyes
, Alleraen took up the assault on the foggy dome with his own blade. Every blow rebounded, jarring him to the bone, but he used the effort to drive his tears away and gain control of his emotions. Anger, he could deal with. He’d become adept at converting his sadness and grief to anger. Year after year during his confinement, he’d allowed his rage to grow and build and fester until it took on a life of its own. It became his lifeblood and motivation. He felt comfortable as he grasped that thread of anger and brought it back to life.

Apparently unaware of the outside surroundings, the man inside the dome pulled himself up from Alora and wiped his face on his sleeve. His face contorted with grief and rage, he reached inside his garment, removed a white blade and slashed toward Empusa, who remained in her killing trance, face upturned. At the last moment, the uncle deflected the blade. He ran his fingers through his short grey hair and opened his mouth in a silent scream of frustration. With an expression full of hatred and disgust, the uncle pulled his foot up and kicked Empusa in the gut.

Outside the dome, Alleraen joined the rest of the audience in an unbidden cheer, glad to see the uncle’s boot impact the evil woman’s stomach. He watched with immense satisfaction as she crumpled to the ground.

The dome disappeared.

Empusa rose to her feet, directing her fury at her attacker. Her fingers twitched as she pointed her open hands at Charles, who fell to the floor, writhing in pain. Then her mouth opened wide and her eyes rounded. She toppled forward like a conifer tree, Jireo’s blade protruding from her back.

Jireo fell over Kaevin, crying out his pain and anger. “No!” he screamed, his voice already hoarse from his earlier protests. His body quavered as he sobbed.

Calmly ignoring Empusa’s body, Arista moved around the platforms, removing the iron shackles from Kaevin’s and Alora’s wrists and ankles. Charles crawled to his feet, his grief written on his tear-streaked face.

“I’m so sorry, Charles. We were too late.” Graely ground out the words, as bitter tears poured from his eyes. “I should have listened when you argued against the plan.”

Charles turned, embracing Graely, and they wept, clinging together.

Alleraen jumped at a tug on his sleeve. Arista spoke with furrowed brows and authority in her voice. “You should move Alora beside Kaevin. They’re soulmates, and they should be together.”

He thought to object to the action as useless until he noticed her red-rimmed eyes and tear-streaked face. Her grief, along with that of everyone else in the room, was on his head. He would do what he could to bring comfort since he couldn’t undo his mistake.

He tried not to look at Alora’s mutilated arms as he gently scooped his hands under her and lifted her from the table. Cradling her against him, he walked around to the other platform, where Jireo still cried over Kaevin’s body. Jireo made room for him to place Alora’s body beside Kaevin. Arista reached across to put their hands together, a fitting gesture for a soulmate couple united in death.

Arista’s gaze, swollen and red with anguish, was Alleraen’s undoing. He lost his careful control. Turning his head away, he batted his eyes to dry them, but once started the stream of tears would not be stopped. Fat salty drops rolled down his face to splash on Alora’s. He placed a gentle kiss on her cold cheek… the niece he’d never know. Her arm fell off the side of the table and he gently lifted it, folding it across her so the raw flesh wouldn’t be exposed. A wave of dizziness hit, and his knees buckled, making him grab the table to regain his balance.

She groaned, and he shifted her arm to make her more comfortable.

Wait… she groaned?

“She’s not dead!” He yelled out.

The room erupted with shouts.

Kaevin labored to take a breath against the heavy weight compressing his lungs. Forcing his eyelids open, he saw a man’s face, blue eyes framed with a mass of dark auburn hair, hanging in curly masses that blended with his beard. A smile bloomed on the face as it jostled in his vision, and he felt the jarring of motion. Though he ought to fight against the Water Clan warrior who held him captive, he barely had the energy to hold his eyes open.

“You’re awake? Well met, Kaevin. I’m Alleraen. I’ve volunteered to carry you and Alora, and I don’t intend to let my brother get his hands on you again.”

“Brother?” he croaked.

“My brother, Drakeon. Or Vindrake as you know him.”

Kaevin tried to understand his words through the muddle in his brain. Recognizing the weight on his chest as Alora, he relished the pressure, despite the effort required to breathe. He had only one compelling thought. “Is someone nearby? Someone called Jireo?” His voice sounded raspy to his ears.

“I’m here, Kaevin.” Jireo’s face appeared, bobbing beside him. Kaevin realized they weren’t simply walking, but running down the passageway. Yet Alleraen didn’t appear winded, though he bore both him and Alora in his arms. Were it not for the bouncing steps and the rapid passing of the cavern walls before his eyes, Kaevin could have imagined he was standing still.

“Jireo… our bond tells me… you’re in grave danger.”

“As are you.” Jireo’s laughter rang out, echoing against the walls of the stone corridor. “I expect we’ll both be in serious danger until we’re long gone from this cavern. Yet I can hardly complain, as I’ve already seen you die and return to life once today.”

“I’m certain Kaevin and Alora were never truly dead.” Alleraen twisted his lips to the side, clearly bemused.

“I’m quite certain they
were
dead. Kaevin and I are defender-bonded. I knew the moment his life left his body.”

Alora and I were dead?

“Impossible,” Alleraen replied, and Kaevin was inclined to agree.

“Something happened to reverse the shaman’s death curse. Or perhaps it reversed because Charles interrupted before it was completed.”

“It matters not if we don’t escape the caverns with our lives.” Despite his dire words, Alleraen’s expression was unworried. On the contrary, he seemed calm. Perhaps even happy.

As they skidded around a corner into a broader corridor, Jireo yelled out, “Glare it! Sentries ahead… coming this way. How much farther to the exit?”

“We’re close to the alcove, but they’ll engage us before we’re all able to get inside. Arista needs time to seal it behind us.” Alleraen yelled over his shoulder, “Graely! Trouble ahead.”

My father’s here?

Graely appeared, jogging beside Alleraen. “How many?”

“Ten of Vindrake’s men to our eight,” Alleraen answered.

“We’ve only six as we can’t count Alleraen or Charles,” Jireo reasoned.

“Let me fight. I’ve only a few broken toes.” Kaevin cleared his throat and opened his eyes wide, trying to look strong.

His father’s half-grin seemed strangely gruesome on his bruised and bloodied face. “Kaevin! You’re awake! I’m afraid Alora’s too weak for us to separate you, even for a moment.”

Kaevin recognized the truth of his father’s words, sensing only a feeble connection to his soulmate.

Alleraen whipped to his left. “Here! In this alcove. To open it—”

“I’ll open it!”

Kaevin rejoiced to discover Arista was alive.

“Graely! Have you got any more firecrackers?” Charles pulled up beside Graely, Jireo and the other warriors who were preparing to make a stand.

How did all these people get here? Has it been three days already?

“I’ve no more of the noisemakers, Charles. Have you any of your own?”

“No, but I’ve got one last trick I didn’t lose when Alora transported me.” He pulled out a large pouch from the pack on his back and flung the contents, bouncing and clattering, toward the oncoming Water Clansmen. The contents of a second sack followed quickly behind the first. A blanket of small balls rolled down the corridor. The foremost sentry stepped on some of the objects and his feet flew out from beneath him, sending him toppling to the ground. Another and then another tumbled this way and that, arms flailing to land with heavy thuds on the stony cavern floor.

“What was that?” asked Graely.

“Marbles,” Charles answered.

Kaevin saw another Water Clan guard slip and fall before his vision narrowed and darkened. Aware of Alora’s strength ebbing away, he struggled to shift her limp body on top of him until her head fell back on his shoulder. He craned his neck up to press his lips to her cheek and whisper in her ear. “We’re together now, Alora. With you, I’m not afraid to die.”

Alleraen watched with admiration as Arista used her gift on the hidden alcove door without needing to know which stones would cause the lock to pop open. She hopped from the bench, intent on joining the others in the fight, but Charles, Graely and Jireo were already running back.

“Go! Go!” Charles called out. “The marbles knocked most of them down.”

Alleraen tensed as four sentries had made it past the rolling balls, but were quickly cut down by Morvaen, Naegle and Worster. The other Water Clan warriors were struggling to their feet, only to slip and fall again. Then Alleraen’s eyes locked with those of a tall man with straight black hair, standing in the rear behind the bobbling guards.

“Drakeon.” He spat the word under his breath, like a curse.

As if he’d heard his name, Drakeon pulled his lips back in a haughty smile, lifting his sword and pointing it in invitation.

Yes, I’ll fight you, Drakeon. This time I’ll kill you with the first swing of my blade.

“Alleraen? Are you not coming?” Arista stood on the bench, poised to enter the hidden passageway, staring with accusing eyes.

Alleraen glanced at the burdens in his arms. Alora appeared so fragile, with her pale face and bluish lips. Kaevin lay beneath her, once again unconscious. Yet Alleraen already knew what his decision would be.
There’s more than one way to defeat you, Brother… and more than one way for you to defeat me. I almost lost everything earlier today, and I won’t throw away my opportunity for redemption
.

He stepped onto the stone bench with one last look at Drakeon.
Another time, Brother.
As he moved inside, Arista closed the door behind them with a clank that resounded up the long stairwell to the surface.

“We mustn’t stop.” The compulsion struck Jireo once again, frantic and building. Dread pounded inside his head like a deep drum. He could hardly hear his own words as they left his lips.
Surely this time, I’ll die with Kaevin. I can’t possibly bear to watch it happen again.

“I’m only following Graely’s orders, Jireo.” Alleraen stood, waiting patiently for someone to help him lay his burdens on the ground. “We’ve traveled far, and everyone is exhausted. Even I must admit my arms are fatigued and cramping.”

“No, you don’t understand. Kaevin’s dying; they’re both dying. My defender bond is compelling me to do something.”

“You’re certain there’s no mistake this time?”

“There was no mistake the last time. I promise you, Kaevin and Alora were truly dead.”

“He speaks truth, though you don’t believe it, Alleraen. I knew when my son’s lifeblood no longer flowed.” Graely moved to help relieve Alleraen of his human burdens. Alleraen dropped to one knee as Graely lifted Alora’s limp form and eased her to the ground, placing a rucksack under her head. As Alleraen laid Kaevin beside her, Arista slipped in, like a shadow, to put their hands together.

“You’ve put them the wrong way; this is Alora’s burnt hand,” Arista fussed.

“It doesn’t matter. Neither of them can feel pain at the moment.” Jireo spoke in a gruff tenor. Yet when Arista surged against him, crying, he blinked back tears of his own. “Graely. I’m sorry to say this, but I feel the press of the defender bond again.”

“We’re still two day’s travel from Laegenshire. Do you believe they can survive that long?”

“I don’t believe they can survive this day.”

“Then, we must wake Alora. She must transport them to a healer.”

“Let me try to wake her.” Charles knelt beside Alora, speaking into her ear in gentle urgent tones. Ten breaths later, with no response forthcoming, he looked up with forlorn eyes.

“Perhaps I can rouse Kaevin, and he can wake her.” Jireo crouched next to Kaevin, calling out in a louder voice, while attempting to duplicate the desperate emotion that seemed to have called them to him during the Laegenshire battle. “Kaevin! Wake up, Kaevin!”

After a moment Kaevin’s eyes blinked open, and he gave a weak smile at the circle of anxious faces. “Thank you all for your valiant efforts. Alora and I are happy to die together, surrounded by those we love.”

“No! Why will you not try to live?” Jireo wanted to slap Kaevin for his benign acceptance.

“Alora’s body is fighting a losing battle; I feel her pain and her weakness. She’s drawn on our bond until I am equally weak; my head is pounding. Though our time is short, I’m eternally grateful to be free from Vindrake’s hand.”

“Jireo!”

“Darielle?”

“I’ve seen Alora and Kaevin through Graely’s eyes; he wears my sightstone. Laethan wishes to ask if Alora and Kaevin can transport to Laegenshire.”