King Of Souls (Book 2) (56 page)

Ronan clenched his jaw as searing pain flared along his legs. He channeled spirit into his and Rika’s shields pushing away the remaining flames.

Rika flew at wild angles as fire and smoke streaked from her right wing.

“I’ve got you!” Ronan channeled healing magic across Rika’s back and wing. He turned the weaves inward restoring the flesh on his burned leg.

Rika rolled onto her stomach leveling off her flight pattern.

Three dragons appeared twenty yards ahead. The largest dragon bore scales of dark blue.

“Shedu!” Ronan pointed ahead.

Overhead, lighting flashed and struck Ronan’s shield opening a fist-sized hole.

A blur of green shot by, and the jade dragon’s bright green scales appeared beneath Rika’s left wing.

Ronan channeled spirit into his shield while reinforcing Rika’s bracing her for another impact.

Rika pitched right, and the jade dragon roared missing her exposed stomach by an inch. High-powered air currents rippled in the jade dragon’s wake sending her tumbling through the sky.

Braids of blond hair streaked by as the sorcerer riding the jade dragon passed an inch below Rika’s wing.

With a blur of red, Ronan swung his sheba blade and caught the sorcerer’s shoulder slicing his arm free of his body.

The sorcerer screamed, and blood sprayed from his mangled stump. Red mist showered the shaman seated behind him. The sorcerer’s eyes rolled back in his head, and his body slackened before he slipped into unconsciousness. The jade dragon rolled, and the Obsith caster’s body jerked sideways.

The sorcerer slipped from the crystal saddle, and his right leg caught in a web of burlap straps. He jerked to a stop bouncing from the dragon’s plated flank. Blood sprayed in the dragon’s wake while the sorcerer’s limp body flailed in the wind. The jade dragon shook from side to side trying to shake loose the sorcerer but only tangled him further.

Ahead, a half-dozen lightning bolts flashed before slamming into Ronan and Rika’s shields. Long jagged rips and smoldering cracks opened across the shield’s flickering surface.

Ronan channeled his dwindling power into their shields. Exhaustion, like a dark fog, settled over his mind. “We can’t keep this up Rika.” He spoke over the whistling wind and roaring dragons swirling around them like a den of angry serpents. “You have to go faster. Trace is there.” He leaned forward and pointed over her shoulder. “He’s riding the dark blue dragon.”

A roar and another thundering boom sent shock waves through Ronan’s shield as a dragon’s talons raked his shield near his head.

Ronan channeled more energy into his and Rika’s shield, and a wave of dizziness washed over his mind before fading.

Rika pushed forward trailing a long stream of purple smoke from her smoldering tail feathers. Two dragons crisscrossed behind her, and snapped their jaws shut missing her by six inches.

Ahead, Shedu appeared arcing above three smaller dragons standing between Trace and Ronan.

“That’s it Rika. Fly straight for those three dragons,” Ronan said. “I’ll take care of them.”

Rika loosed an ear-piercing screech. She darted forward setting an unwavering collision course for the three hovering dragons.

Ronan channeled a deep trough of energy, and an enormous blue orb appeared before him hovering just above Rika’s head.

Lighting crackled from the sorcerers riding the three dragons and flashed toward Ronan.

As the sorcerer’s lightning bolts struck Ronan’s shield he willed the spirit orb forward. He guided it toward the center of the sorcerer’s defensive line.

The front-facing lightning attacks opened deep cracks in Ronan’s shield. Six more bolts connected from above and behind. More lightning attacks split open Rika’s shield, and blue smoke curled skyward.

Eight smoking holes stood open in Ronan’s shield dripping molten globules of spirit.

Ronan tightened the grip on his blade and focused on the massive spirit orb hurtling toward the enemy casters. He found the threads that bound Elan’s magic and the thin blue cord of energy attached to the orb’s center. With a mental nudge, he split the orb into three separate spheres. He directed each toward the sorcerer’s defending Trace and Shedu.

Ronan felt a sledgehammer’s weight smash the center of his back. The impact pushed air from his lungs, and a sharp flare of searing pain erupted across his back.

Ronan struggled to breathe as the sky pitched and spun leaving him disoriented. He clung to Rika’s saddle as he drained precious fading energy from his reserves. He restored a wafer thin shield around them both.

The putrid stench of scorched flesh mingled with black smoke curling from Ronan’s back.

“Rika…” Ronan clung to that single word, and he willed his body the breath it needed to endure a moment longer.

Rika screeched and teetered to her right side while thick purple smoke curled just beneath her left wing.

She’d taken a hit, but Ronan couldn’t tell how bad. “Stay with me Rika,” he said, but the words sent a fresh wave of agony pulsing through his upper back. He craned his neck upward and squinted through a deepening fog of creeping blackness.

The three dragons defending Trace had vanished leaving a clear path for Ronan and Rika. The emperor, appearing fresh and unmarked, raised his arm and waved off the dragons protecting him.

Six dragons broke off their attacks and circled above and below Rika leaving Trace alone.

Pain washed over Ronan making the act of breathing an exercise in torture. He needed to channel healing magic, but the mere thought deepened the darkness edging his vision.

“You don’t give up easy, do you boy?” Trace said. “That’s an admirable trait, but as you can see,” he spread his arm across Freehold’s crumbling skyline, “ you wasted your energy.”

Ronan pushed himself up, and crippling pain flared across his back. He channeled a faint trickle of healing magic and directed it deep into Rika’s body giving her left wing some relief. “Why are you doing this? How could so much destruction possibly benefit you? You can’t take the magic. It doesn’t work that way.”

Trace raised a bushy eyebrow. “Oh? So you know how it works? You interpreted Gabriel’s original notes and brought forth magic into the world? Is that it?”

“I know —”

“You know nothing!” Trace glared down his nose while contempt oozed from his face. “I unlocked Gabriel’s puzzle,” He flattened his palm against his chest. “I showed Elan and Lora how to structure soul energy. I showed them how to harness the human soul giving the spheres life. Now I’m the only one willing and able to combine the power of all three spheres.”

“To what end?” Ronan said. “Clearly we’re no match for you. You don’t need the power.”

Bellows of mocking laughter rolled from Trace’s throat, and he shook his head. “How I long for your naivete, but I can’t go back in time. I can’t erase what I know, and I don’t have the time nor inclination to give you a proper explanation.”

“Time for what?” Ronan said.

“As if you could understand, but I’ve lost my patience.” Trace thrust both palms forward, and a river of fire raced forward hurtling toward Ronan and Rika.

Fire swept over Ronan and Rika’s shields eviscerating the thin spirit shield without mercy. Flames sprang to life torching Ronan’s tunic while Rika screeched her wings set ablaze.

Rika peeled away from the emperor avoiding a flurry of lightning attacks from sorcerers overhead. Thick smoke curled skyward, and she fell unable to preserve flight.

Ronan clung to Rika’s back and pulled on the last drops of power he had left to give. He channeled a mixture of shield and healing magic over their bodies.

The flames died morphing into a greasy trail of black smoke marking their free fall toward Freehold burning below.

Ronan fought against blackness creeping across his field of vision. He clutched the edge of Rika's collar with his fingertips and held tight.

Weakened by fire, the straps securing the leather pack to Ronan’s shoulder snapped. Elan’s Sphere fell free and disappeared into a billowing smoke cloud over the Laborer’s District.

Confusion numbed Ronan’s mind. He held Rika’s collar? Traced had knocked her from her eagle form. Had she died? As they plummeted, Rika’s body felt like dead weight beneath his grip. Ronan’s stomach dropped overwhelmed by the sickening sensation of falling.

“No!” Ronan’s face went numb, and his adrenaline surged. Using his last shred of stored enhancement energy, he pulled Rika into his arms. He cradled her body while they plummeted toward the smoldering palace district below. Ronan channeled spirit drawing from an inner well that had run dry, but he had no choice.

A thin shield sputtered to life surrounding them both in its protective cocoon.

Flecks of blackness spotted Ronan’s vision, and he fought back nausea and encroaching darkness.

An odd blanket of green leafy ground cover and deep snowdrifts flashed by and fifty feet below, the palace came into view. Ronan and Rika crossed over the citadel’s burning hulk belching fountains of black smoke skyward.

Ronan crossed a dozen feet over the citadel’s roofline and twisted so his rear end might take the brunt of impact. He squeezed Rika’s limp body tight giving her all the protection he could muster.

Ronan clenched his jaw and pressed his eyes shut as his body slammed into the ground.

The dragons’ distant roars came muted beneath towering walls of snow circling Ronan. The spirit shield surrounding his and Rika’s bodies had disappeared, shattered by the raw impact.

Ronan blinked afraid to move. Had he died? An odd sensation of warmth surrounded his body. He dared to glance downward and found a billow of raven dark hair spread across his chest. He’d managed to hold onto Rika, but she hadn’t yet stirred.

He moved his right arm and pain rippled from his elbow through his back and along his right leg. Ronan drew on his energy reserves, but found only stark emptiness.

Despite the pain throbbing in his arm, Ronan pushed himself up. He groaned as agony rolled over him like a pitch-black summer storm. His breaths came sharp and quick leaving behind shallow plumes of steam, but he kept one arm locked around Rika afraid to let her go.

Trace’s fire attack had reduced Rika’s clothing to tatters. Bright red blisters covered the skin along her arms and legs. Deep cuts ran along her stomach, and her right eye had swollen shut.

Ronan bent forward and placed his ear above Rika’s bloody swollen lips.

Rika’s labored breathing came in short shallow pulls. In another few minutes, even Elan’s magic couldn’t save her.

With a shaking hand, Ronan eased away a thick lock of hair splayed across her cheek. He clipped it behind her ear the way she’d done a million times. “That’s better isn’t it?” He said, his voice trembling.

Rika didn’t respond.

Ronan reached for Elan’s magic and felt his power stir but lacked the fuel to drive it. He’d give his soul to save hers, but he didn’t know how. Maybe Sir Alcott had seen him fall from the sky. His magic could save her. “Hang on just a little longer Rika, and I’ll find us help.” Ronan looked around him searching for any sign of life.

Behind the citadel, a small cemetery reserved for the Order’s fallen commanders sat nestled in a grove of oak, alder, and elm. Ronan had landed inside a deep snowdrift resting against a polished headstone.

He recognized the oversized gravestone standing beside his right hand. Ronan ran his shredded leather glove over the epitaph carved into the headstone’s granite face. He didn’t need to read the words, he’d written it himself.

The words read, ‘
One great man who changed the world
.’ Beneath the epitaph, the name ‘
Patron Tyrell
’ stood etched in granite. Ronan had chosen granite for his master’s headstone. Granite embodied strength under pressure just like Patron Tyrell.

“Thanks for breaking my fall Master Tyrell,” Ronan said. “You’ve always been there for me. Even now.”

No sound broke the silence except for the whistling wind. It carried hints of smoke drifting from the citadel’s burning wreckage.

“Why can’t I do the same for the people I love?” Ronan pulled free his glove and ran his thumb over Rika’s nearly frozen skin. “Master Tyrell, do you remember when I told you I loved her?”

Ronan bent and pressed his lips against Rika’s forehead. “Well, I haven’t told a soul, but I had a ring made for Rika. And before you ask, I went to Master Goodie’s shop. Don’t worry.” A dull ache throbbed inside Ronan’s chest as he gazed into Rika’s face. “I planned to ask her hand in marriage the night of the season’s first big snow.”

He pressed his lips together fighting off a rising wave of grief. “She’s never mentioned marriage, but I know how she feels about family. We had such plans.” His voice cracked over the final few words.

Ronan pulled Rika into his chest and wrapped his arms around her body. He slipped free the tattered remains of his heavy wool cloak and covered Rika’s body. Using a light touch, he pressed his cheek against the crown of her head and held her close. Ronan closed his eyes and exhaled releasing a slow pain filled breath. “Rest, my love. Rest.”

The wind stirred again. The fragrant aroma of orange blossoms replaced the expected stench of burning wood and plaster. Air, warm and welcoming, drifted over Ronan’s face. A moment later, it flitted away replaced by winter’s cold grip and the bitter smell of charred wood.