Glyphbinder (9 page)

“Aryn!” Kara shouted. “You put those damn things out!”

A long curl of flame lashed at them from Aryn’s finger. Sashia screamed. Kara shoved the other woman aside and reflexively slashed a finger. She took the dream world as everything slowed and caught Aryn’s strike in a watery globe of Life. Had he gone insane?

Kara then realized she could no longer feel the warm glow of the square. It always felt warm, and that warmth always protected her. It protected everyone, yet that warmth had vanished.

The air had gone cold. Someone yelled a warning. The other initiates had noticed the duel and now they were scattering, shouting, as Sashia pushed herself up on hands and knees.

Sashia glared at Aryn. “You almost hit me!”

Aryn tossed another flame. Kara grabbed Sashia and pushed hard with her legs, throwing both of them into the cover of the fountain. Flame slammed into the stone border with a loud hiss.

Sashia’s eyes went wide. “Why’s he doing this? What’s going on?” Her chest heaved and she clutched Kara like a drowning woman.

“Stay down!” Kara shouted. Then she stood and ran from the fountain as she took the dream world once more. With luck, she could lead Aryn away from anyone else. As she scribed another Hand of Life, she caught sight of the blood-red glyph in Aryn’s head.

Madness. Human madness. Aryn had been glyphed like the graybacks, compelled to attack her. How was that even possible?

“Aryn!” Kara backed away with her Hand of Life floating before her, waiting for his next glyph. “Wake up! Take charge of yourself!”

“You’ve ruined everything!” Aryn scribed blood glyphs faster than she had ever seen, faster than she could, and his hands burst into flame. “You’ll burn now. Burn!” He charged her.

Kara focused on the ground ahead of his charge and ignited her Hand of Life. Ice crackled out in a wide slick and Aryn slipped when he reached it, going down hard on his back. Kara scribed eight more glyphs as fast as she could, Hands of Life mixed with Fingers of Breath.

Gouts of water splashed from the fountain and slammed into the ground, growing into an icy prison. A few idiots were gawking at the duel, standing instead of running. They were going to die.

“Get out of the square!” Kara shouted. “All of you, get out now!”

Kara’s cell exploded, and that got the gawkers running. Shards of ice rained down as Kara scribed two more Hands of Life, ready to counter Aryn’s next strike. Ready for anything.

Sera dashed into the square, running for Aryn with her teeth bared. She tackled him. The two of them tumbled into the fountain.

“You stupid oaf!” Sera flailed at Aryn as they struggled in the water, splashing and huffing. “Stupid, stupid, stupid!” She pulled Aryn up by his drenched collar. “You’ll be expelled!”

Aryn’s fist crackled with flame as Kara’s world slowed to a terrifying crawl. Aryn slammed one flaming fist into the tip of Sera’s chin, which, along with the wave of heat that came with it, tossed her out of the fountain like a rag doll. Sera smashed into the tiles and rolled several times before she stopped moving.

She wasn’t moving at all.

Kara howled and launched a Hand of Life at Aryn’s head, clenching her fist as it formed into a tight ball of ice. Aryn shattered it with a Finger of Heat and stumbled from the fountain’s pool, hands twisting as he sent more blasts of flame her way.

Kara tossed her body over the barrage with a Hand of Breath, flipped in midair, and scribed on the way down. A wave rose in the fountain and slammed into Aryn, knocking him down in the pool.

Kara’s skin tingled and her body trembled as she slid to a stop at Sera’s side. She had already burned a great deal of blood and found it difficult to pick out tiles, to tell them one from the other. It hurt to breathe, but that didn’t matter as she cradled Sera’s body. Sera’s charred face was almost black.

“Don’t be dead,” Kara whispered. “You can’t be dead.”

“Kara!” Aryn rose, splashing through the fountain and toward her with his fingers burning anew. “I’m going to kill you!”

Flame consumed Aryn’s hands, then his arms, and Kara felt a hole open in her gut as she stood and scribed two more Hands of Life. She couldn’t kill Aryn. He was just a pawn!

Aryn bared white teeth, narrowed his eyes, and spread his burning arms. The tiles under his feet crackled and bent. All the air around him heated like an oven.

Kara ignited both Hands of Life and tossed the largest wave she could summon. It slammed Aryn against the central spout of the fountain so hard she heard his head crack. He thrashed and flailed, screaming like a madman.

Kara’s hands worked feverishly as she focused on the water around Aryn, mixing Hands of Life with Fingers of Breath to chill the air. First, she trapped Aryn’s legs. Then, she trapped his burning hands. It took all she could muster to keep her fragile ice from breaking. Only Aryn’s head remained above water now as he howled and twisted, shouting her name.

Kara fell as her ice shattered, as Aryn thrashed free. The water around him was boiling — he was boiling himself alive — and he simply didn’t care. He wanted her dead. The man controlling his mind wanted her dead, and Kara couldn’t stop him.

“Sleep,” Sera whispered. “Make him sleep.”

She was alive! Sera was alive! Then Aryn burst from the fountain and rose on a pillar of flame, skin red and blistered from the boiling water. Suspended in a tower of swirling fire, he closed his eyes.

The tower that lifted Aryn thickened and grew, a whirlwind growing into a tornado. The water in the fountain boiled. Aryn was going to burn up the entire square with the Soul of Heat.

Kara knew Aryn had never been anywhere near this strong. No one in Solyr could even approach this power save Elder Tyrel, and he led Solyr’s Firebrand school. Sera was right.
Sleep.

Kara scribed that simple glyph, not once, but six times strong. Twin vortices of flame coursed toward them along the lines of Aryn’s outstretched arms as Kara ignited her glyphs. Her blood evaporated in a fever, knocking her to her knees beside Sera, and she knew then she could scribe nothing else. She simply lacked the blood.

As Kara clutched Sera and forced her eyes up, the tornado that held Aryn buckled and twisted. The flames coursing toward them burned away. The flames spinning about Aryn roiled and grew, a perfect vortex whipping itself apart in a frenzy of flame.

Only then did Kara realize what she had done. Aryn had fallen asleep, yes, but that didn’t do anything to the flaming tornado beneath his feet. The elegant rivulets blew apart in waves of superheated air and flame. The outer ring crackled toward her, searing her skin as it came.

Kara wished she could hug her mother one last time.

Something slammed into her — Byn slammed into her — and he threw his body over theirs. Flame consumed them, but Kara didn’t burn. She wondered if her flesh would simply evaporate.

Fire rolled past them, breaking apart as it sputtered into nothingness across the central square. Byn rolled off her, moaning, as Kara pushed to her feet. Still in one piece. Still with all her skin. Had Byn somehow stopped those flames? How could he do that?

An impact like a heavy fist slammed into her chest. She recognized it as it curled around her heart, as the beast glyph of Osis paralyzed her. Her legs buckled and her arms flopped out. She fell back and hit the tiles of the square so hard she saw spots.

A glimmer of starry nothingness leaned over her, and she recognized the stars and constellations as astral glyphs. A Skywatcher! Only the strongest Skywatchers could make such combinations, and they used them to travel instantly over short distances along a pattern mirroring the stars.

The astral glyphs concealed a mage. A battlemage. The same Tellvan mage that had sent those graybacks after her in the woods, the same mage who had glyphed Aryn and sent him to kill her. He had hidden, waited, as she and her friends spent their blood and lives fighting a distraction. Now he planned to burn her alive.

The mage dragged her to her feet. Kara felt thick hands on her arms as a horrible smell overwhelmed her nostrils, a smell like fish rotting in the hot sun. It made her gag and choke. Strange new blood glyphs appeared in the air, drawn by the mage’s invisible finger. Astral glyphs, for travel. Not heat.

This man planned to abduct her, and the thought of what he might do to her made her thrash in his iron grip, thumping and biting at his arm. Would he erase her memories, like Trell’s? Would he scribe a demon glyph and feed her soul to the Underside?

A shadow with a slick black ponytail slammed into Kara and the battlemage, mussing the battlemage’s blood glyphs before he could complete them. Kara tumbled to the tiles, still paralyzed by Osis, but she was free. Mercifully free.

“Trell!” Kara screamed. “Be careful!”

Trell and her abductor went to the ground in a tangle as Kara took the dream world — she had only just remembered mages concealed by astral glyphs shone there, bright as the sun — but she saw no mage. He had escaped, probably using more astral glyphs. New pins and needles poked Kara as Osis uncoiled from her heart.

Trell scowled as he rose, casting about with his hands for the mage, but when he looked at her he stopped and nodded. It was like he could read her mind, like he knew that mage was no longer a threat. Shaved, dressed, and uninjured, he looked like an entirely different man from the crazed person who had come upon her at the Thinking Trees. Not bad looking at all.

Kara tried to rise and couldn’t. Trell helped her up. He felt warm and strong.

“Byn,” Kara rasped. She pointed.

Together, she and Trell limped to where Byn was curled in a fetal position, a few paces from Sera. The air smelled like tar and burning ash. As they neared, Byn opened his eyes and sat up. Ash covered his skin, but he did not appear to be burned.

“Olden’s shell.” He stared at his ash-covered hands. “I knew it, but I didn’t think it would actually work.”

Kara pushed off Trell and landed on Byn, wrapping her arms around him with a tiny cry. Memories flooded her mind. Byn’s wide grin as he taunted her from across the tavern. His howl as she steered their small schooner into the high waves of the Northern Sea. She had known Byn since they were children and losing him now, thinking about his body burned to ash, made her feel like retching. She hugged Byn tight and didn’t let go.

“Sera.” Kara gulped as she remembered. “Sera’s hurt.”

“I’m fine,” Sera said. Kara looked up, still clutching Byn, and found Sera sitting beside them, hands pressed to her face.

“Are you hurt?” Kara demanded. “Look at me!”

Sera lowered her hands, fingers freshly cut. Her skin was wet, peeling, and red, but it was not charred. Somehow, despite the pain she was in, she had already fixed her own face.

“I can’t feel my face,” Sera whispered. “Do I still have my face?” Her eyes were wide and wet.

Byn hugged her and Kara hugged them both. “You’ve still got a face.  A beautiful face. We’re okay.”

“Kara?” Trell said. “The elders approach.”

Kara focused on others, on the world. It was hard with her head swimming and her body cold. She had spent a lot of blood just now, and her body didn’t like that. She would need a transfusion if she wanted to finish out the day anywhere other than a bed.

Dozens of initiates, all gazing at the carnage, had re-entered the square, led by Journeymage Talbot. He nodded when he saw her, his jaw clenched, but he did not approach. Kara heard splashing from the fountain and turned to the water, a chill clutching her as she imagined Aryn rising again.

Aryn hadn’t risen. He bobbed face up, limbs splayed out. Sashia struggled toward him, waist deep in the steaming water. Her uniform was soaked and ruined. Was that woman insane?

“Get away from him!” Kara managed to stand, did so without anyone’s help, but before she could attempt to walk, Senior Mender Landra rushed past her in a flash of flowing white robes.

Landra leapt over the fountain’s border, nimble as a fox, and then she ran right across the water toward Aryn. Ice crackled beneath her feet as Kara stared and gawked. She had not known you could use the Hand of Life to do that.

Strong arms grabbed Kara’s shoulders and forced her around. She gasped, fighting, but then she saw Elder Halde and all fighting stopped. He was here. He could protect her.

“Are you hurt?” Halde’s eyes were wide.

Kara nodded. That battlemage had come so close to taking her away from Solyr, away from her friends. Away to where, to what?

Death was part of life. It might be harsh, even painful, but she knew her life would end. As with all who died in the Five Provinces she would then stand before Order and Ruin, plead her case and accept her judgment. Afterward, she would rejoin the Five.

Being taken by some mad mage was different. It meant torture. In the days of the All Province War, death had been far from the worst fate for captives of the Metla Tassauns. They, and the Demonkin mages they served, had fed many souls to the Mavoureen.

“Sera.” Kara pulled another worry from her muddy mind. “She’s burned. Aryn hit her—”

“We are taking care of everyone,” Halde assured her. “Even Aryn. Now focus. Calm your mind. Tell me what’s happened.”

Kara listened to him. She focused. She recounted everything that had happened from the moment she met Sashia in the square to when Sashia went after Aryn’s floating body. After she finished, Halde squeezed her arms and let her stand.