Daybreak (79 page)

“There is relief beyond the mountains,” Death murmured. His chin rose to point at the crack inside the rock. “The journey back into life is a short one. The way is easy, a simple river’s crossing. Here … there is only pain.”

Kael was aware of this: already, he was struggling to keep his feet.
 

An endless, burning land stretched before him — beyond it, the thinnest line of peace. Death, himself, warned that he would never be able to reach it. But when he thought of what it would mean to turn back, when he thought of the emptiness that waited in a life without Kyleigh …

Well, it gave him all the strength he needed to try again.

“Fool,” Death whispered as Kael stepped forward.

He fell back into a dogged march, staring straight over Death’s shoulder at the wavering horizon. Though he tried to keep all of his concentration bent on walking, it was difficult not to listen to Death speak.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You have always been a fool. It’s your heart that makes you foolish: you’ve allowed it to rule you completely. When your heart is whole, you speak like a wiseman. But when it is broken, you behave like a fool. It’s Kael the Fool who stands before me, now — a jester and child.”

He couldn’t have cared less what Death thought of him. In fact, his taunts only brought another surge of fire into his blood.

Kael broke into a sprint, every cord of his muscle bent upon the green horizon. He forced himself to run even after his lungs seized up and his legs went numb, even after the heat sent a torrent of blood rushing from his nose.
 

But though his mind was bathed in steel and sharpened upon its task, his body lacked the strength to move another step. His legs collapsed beneath him and his chin struck the ground hard.

Blackness swarmed at the edges of his vision. Every inch of him burned: he felt as if he wore a cloak of flame. But though the darkness teased him with the promise of relief, his eyes stayed open. The pain never faded.

“You are not dead,” Death whispered. He inhaled deeply, the light of his stark eyes flaring brightly. “But whenever I hear the cries of an aching spirit, it is my task to cut its bonds and set it free. I must break it from its mortal shell — otherwise, it cannot escape its torment. I will break your shell now, Kael the Fool, as is my task to do so. But be warned: you will never escape your torment. You will wake in the same fires that devour you now.”

Death drew the sword from across his shoulder and advanced.
 

Kael reached for Daybreak … but the blade was gone. When he tried to imagine a weapon in his hand, he found only another gaping, ragged hole. He had no power. He had no strength.

And all too soon, Death stood above him.

The great sword pressed into his back, just below his left shoulder. “I feel it … that meddlesome, stubborn heart. You would be so much better without it. You could be so much more …”

The sword came down.

Kael cried out when it first bit his flesh. Death drove it in a fraction at a time: he felt it break through every layer skin, every wire of muscle. They snapped one after the next against the sword’s merciless point — each burst wracked him with a wave of pain more terrible than the one before.

Then at last, it struck his heart.

Agony shook Kael’s body as his heart split against the sword. It was a torment no man could’ve survived. He begged for the darkness, begged for the shadows to cover his eyes. Even if all that awaited in the world beyond was a fathomless, burning pool, he would’ve accepted it gratefully. He would’ve thrown himself into the fires rather than have to be awake when Death’s sword struck the middle of his heart.

But he
was
awake. He swore he was awake for half an age as the sword ground into the inside edges of his heart. The darkness hung at the corners of his eyes for an eternity, taunting him.
 

When at last the shadows came, they shuttered his vision for only a blink. There wasn’t any peace inside that flash of darkness. There wasn’t a moment’s rest. Kael woke exhausted and sore, still trapped inside the barren lands.

He should’ve cried out at the loss of his strength, at the fact that he was weaker now than he’d been before. But instead, he smiled.

It’d given him an idea … a mad, impossible idea.

Death crouched before him — except now, he wore Roland’s skin. It was Roland’s swollen fingers that wrapped around the great sword, Roland’s mouth that fell into a saddened frown.

“Go back into the mountains, Kael the Fool. Do not linger here … or I’ll have to break your shell again.”

The thought of having his heart split open a second time was enough to make Kael consider turning back. But his worry faded quickly. In order for his plan to work, he had to survive a little longer; he had to suffer the sword again.

His bones cried out in protest as he dragged himself to his feet. His legs trembled at first — but it wasn’t long before he’d found his dogged gait.

Death stood from his crouch and twisted the wires of Roland’s beard between his fingers, watching. “I don’t understand it. He usually listens so well to these faces.”

Though it sounded as if he spoke to himself, Kael couldn’t help but be interested. “You’ve spoken to me before? When?” he said at Death’s nod.

“As you slept. Fate keeps a tight hold upon the Veil, and the fall of her die decides the future — while I am banished to the past. But sleep is a curious thing … it brings you close to me. The hours in which the body seals its eyes are precisely the hours in which the spirit is free to roam. You have no idea the thousands of miles you’ve traveled as you slept, or the many haunted realms your soul has crossed. And occasionally, I would join you on your walks.”

Kael was so surprised that he nearly stopped. He’d dreamt of Roland before, of Amos and Morris. At the time, he’d thought the dreams were just a part of his worry.

But now … chills ran up his spine.

“Yes, you’ve been a great ally, Kael the Fool — the single stone that topples my sister’s plans, the pawn who wreaks havoc across the board.” Death’s face twisted into a smile. “She’s tried so many times to kill you … but she cannot cast for your life. No, you will live on until your body finally withers and I come to answer the weeping of your soul. That’s what it means to belong to Death.”

“I don’t belong to anybody,” Kael said shortly. He fought to catch his breath. But each time he tried to breathe in, the sun snatched it away. The horizon was no closer than it’d been the first moment he’d fallen into the barren lands.

When his legs began to go numb and the darkness drifted to the edge of his eyes, he knew what was about to happen. Though he feared the fall of Death’s sword with every ounce of his soul, his chest ached to think of the emptiness that waited beyond the mountains.

It was worth the pain, worth the centuries of torment. As long as he could survive the sword, he would be close to Kyleigh. They would exist in the same world, at least — just an ocean apart.
 

Kael kept his eyes on the horizon as he collapsed again, and imagined that he could see her standing there upon its shores. She shook her head at him. She called him a stubborn mountain boy, and the playful fires in her eyes set his heart ablaze. Soon, he could no longer feel the ache in his legs or the wrath of the sun.

When he imagined Kyleigh smiling at him, he couldn’t feel anything.

But then Death’s sword fell again and the world was wrought in pain. When the darkness finally crashed over his eyes, it hung for less than a moment. Kael woke more exhausted and sore than ever.

He wished he had the strength to laugh, but he settled for a grin.

Death crouched before him, wearing Amos’s frail shape. But the hand that gripped Kael’s hair was strong. “You must leave here, Kael the Fool. Your spirit is weakening.”

“Yes, that’s the idea,” he muttered.

He swore he could almost feel the desperation in Death’s grip as it tightened. “If you continue this defiance, I’ll have to strike your soul again. I
must
strike it — it’s against my nature to let a spirit suffer. But your soul can only bear so much. I fear another blow will send you on —”

“Good. That’s precisely what I was hoping for.”

“I’m not ready to send you, Kael the Fool!” Death snarled, glaring. “You are far too valuable a weapon. I’ll give you whatever you wish: any strength, any power, any throne of men. It’s all yours for the taking — it’s always been yours.”

Kael didn’t care about any of that. “I want Kyleigh.”

Death shoved him away with a growl. “No. Her soul belongs to Fate. Every soul across the earth belongs to Fate, save for yours.
She
commands them. She casts for them.” Death clenched a fist at his head; his stark eyes twisted back to the horizon. “She knows you want that woman …
that’s
why she’s holding her soul at the edge, why she hasn’t sent her on. She means to lure you there. And once you’re inside her realm, I won’t be able to help you. The torment you suffer here will be nothing compared to what you will suffer at the hands of Fate.”

It took all of his strength, more than he thought he had in him. But somehow, Kael managed to drag himself to his feet. “I don’t care. As long as I’m with Kyleigh—”

“Fool!”
 

Death turned and slung his sword into the earth behind him. It split open with a roar. A canyon ripped across the barren lands, all the way to edge of the green horizon. The earth shook for a moment. Kael fought to keep his feet. But half a moment later, the canyon sealed itself shut. The air went silent once more.

And he set out.

“You’re a wastrel,” Death growled as he collapsed again. “If any other man had been given half your powers, he could’ve done twice as much.”

“Crevan is dead. The Kingdom is free. My companions are safe. I’ve done all I meant to do,” Kael muttered into the dusty ground. “Maybe I haven’t done it as well as you’d like, but I’ve done it well enough. Now … let’s get on with it.”

The sword came down.

An eternity of pain, a flash of darkness, and Kael woke once more.

Back and forth they went: Death shrieking while Kael fought on. Every bite of the sword weakened him further. After the sixth time it fell, he could do no more than crawl.

Kael dug his fingers into the cracked earth and dragged himself along on his belly. The grit scraped his flesh, left blisters across the pads of his fingers. The sun spat its fire upon his head.

All the while he fought, Death sat upon the ground before him. He wore Noah’s skin, now — the body of the sandy-haired boy who’d been killed in the Endless Plains. Though he knew it was only Death, Kael’s heart still lurched when Noah’s head fell into his hands.

And Death must’ve heard it. “Oh, that heart! That cursed heart! I used to laugh when it drove you into battle, when it scattered all of my sister’s plans to the winds. Fate thought that
she
would be the one to bring about the Kingdom’s reckoning. But you left her nothing to cast for.”

“What do you mean?” Kael grunted as he dragged himself an inch.

“There was supposed to be another war — a second great wave of strife in the Kingdom that would turn all eyes upon Fate. But that didn’t happen did it?” Here, Death gave him the faintest smile. “No, every time Fate went to move her pieces,
you
were there to scatter them across the board. It didn’t matter how many armies or rulers she controlled, or how she tried to hurt you — on you went, marching to the stubborn beat of your heart.

“I don’t know what exactly my sister had planned. She guards her secrets jealously. Still, I know that Midlan wasn’t supposed to fall today … I doubt if it was ever meant to fall. But because of you, because of the paths you chose, Fate found herself pitted against a force she simply could not defeat.”

Kael slowed as his limbs began to tremble against the heat. Blood coated the tips of his fingers. “What … force?”

Death smiled again. “The rise of a new Kingdom. Wildmen who’d had their powers awoken, giants who’d been given hope, shamans with their families made whole, pirates with a strong captain to lead them, a halfhawk who’d been set free, a battlemage given a second chance — and a whole host of mercenaries snared by an apple sauce,” he added, with a roll of his eyes.

“All this came to pass because a boy from the Unforgivable Mountains climbed down to meet them. He saw them at their lowest points, and he lifted them up. Never mind that he was powerful, because his
power
didn’t bring them to the fortress today. It was his heart …” Death shook his head, his stare turning upon the clear blue sky. “And now, his heart will end him.”

Kael wasn’t sure if he believed all of that. He didn’t think he’d done much of anything to save the Kingdom. In fact, he could think of several times when his companions had saved
him
.

But he supposed none of that mattered, now. He closed his eyes as he felt Death’s sword against his back. He hoped this would be the last time it fell.

“Your soul cries out to me, Kael the Fool. I have to end its weeping. But if my sister shows you mercy, if she sends you back into the living realm, you would do well to remember the day you were born. Remember that you belong to me.” His hands twisted about the sword. “In time … perhaps you will see it for the gift it was meant to be.”

“Kael!”

Tears poured down his face the moment he felt Kyleigh’s arms around him. His eyes were still black with pain, but he would’ve known her voice no matter how badly he ached.

There was a bed of soft, cool grass beneath him. It eased his burning skin. By the time Kyleigh pulled him into her lap, his pain had all but vanished. “I never thought I’d see you again,” he murmured, pressing his face against her neck. He was afraid to open his eyes — afraid that if he did, the dream would end.

Kyleigh laughed and held him tighter. “Is that so? Well, I always knew you’d come for us.”

“As did I,” another voice whispered.

He opened his eyes when he felt something heavy scrape across his legs. It was a dragon’s white tail — one that wrapped Kyleigh and Kael in its embrace and dragged them in against a warm, scaly chest.