Lord's Fall (31 page)

Her gaze fell to his hands. He was cupping something. He noticed the direction of her gaze and held open his fingers. The God Machine sat in his palms, an intensely burning black lotus of Power, eternally renewing itself. She had never seen anything so revolutionary. It was only a sliver of the god’s Power yet it held an essence so pure it could birth solar systems and burn down empires. It was a piece of the engine that drove the universe.

The Machine no longer looked like a crown. It had taken another physical form that spilled out between Gaeleval’s fingers. It took a moment for her to recognize what it was. When she did, her chest throbbed with a ferocious ache.

He held a string of plain, wooden prayer beads.

However he had gotten the God Machine, Dragos had said that the more he used it, the more it would work on him and affect his mind. The beads looked worn. She imagined him fingering the string. Perhaps he had prayed for guidance.

And the longer Taliesin’s item had been held in check, the greater the change it would bring into the world.

“What happened to you?” she whispered.

She had not expected him to answer, but then he did.

“I was summoned to the palace and when I arrived, I found everybody dead,” Gaeleval said softly. “All the attendants. Camthalion’s children, along with their mother. They had been kneeling in the throne room and their throats had been slit. Camthalion was still burning when I got there. He had poured oil over his head and set himself on fire.”

“My God,” she breathed.

“When I looked for the crown, it had vanished. These were on the floor at Camthalion’s feet.” He looked down at the string of beads as he fingered them. “As soon as I saw them I knew they were meant for me. When I took them, I understood that Numenlaur could not continue the way it was. The Elves had been torn apart by ambition and war, and they had been scattered across the Earth on a lie. Camthalion was right, but he did not have the strength to see his vision through to the finish. Our time should have ended long ago. We just refused to see it. We must draw this age of brokenness to a close, unite together one last time and pass on.”

So he intended both empire and destruction. He had such ruined nobility. Something tickled on her skin. She wiped her face, and only then did she realize that her cheeks had grown damp.

“Please, Amras,” she said. “Please try to listen to me. No matter how much conviction or purpose you think you feel, you don’t have to rule anybody. Camthalion was delusional, and now the Machine is affecting your mind too. It isn’t too late for you, and it isn’t too late for any of the others either. Let them go. Numenlaur has been cut off from the rest of the world for too long, but we can help you adjust. Just give me those beads. Let me hold them for you for a little while.”

“I am so tired of being a Guardian,” he said, his voice worn and threadbare with age. His expression held a sadness that could break apart the world.

“You don’t have to carry that burden any longer. You can let go and rest. Let me help you.” She held out her hand.

If she could only get her hands on those beads for a few minutes. If she ran away from everyone and everything as far and as fast as she could go, she could fling them into the nearest ravine or river. It didn’t matter where. Anywhere, anywhere, as long as the Machine was taken out of Gaeleval’s hands and released.

There wasn’t any way to stop the Machine, and she wouldn’t try. She would let it go and it would work its way through the world, enacting the god’s will according to its original purpose. She wouldn’t even say anything to anybody. She could explain what had happened as soon as she got back.

She met Amras’s gaze again. He gave her a small, grave smile and reached for her outstretched hand.

•   •   •

D
ragos never knew what woke him.

It wasn’t the influx of cold air into the tent. If he set his mind to it, he could sleep outside through a howling gale. It wasn’t Pia shifting her weight off him or moving around. After sleeping in the same bed for seven months, they had grown used to each other’s presence in every permutation and position imaginable.

For whatever reason, he stretched and opened his eyes.

The Power of the God Machine continued to blaze in the nearby passageway fire, in the stone that burned but never melted. He could also sense the interwoven defensive spells from the magic users in camp.

Pia was already dressed, her tangled hair knotted on itself in a way that he never could understand. She put her hair up that way whenever she didn’t have any other way to fasten it, and it always fell apart when he ran his fingers through it.

She knelt on the edge of their rough, makeshift floor, holding the flap open as she peered out. He couldn’t see what held her attention. He yawned so widely, his jaws cracked.

“What are you looking at?” he asked, his voice gravelly from sleep.

She didn’t respond to him, although he saw her lips move. She wiped her face. Was she crying? He sat up, angling his head to better look out the flap. That was when he heard her whisper, “Let me help you.”

There was nobody outside. Nobody that Dragos could see, at any rate. There was only the wind and the fire, and the magic users’ spells.

Along with the Power of the God Machine as Gaeleval wielded it.

Dragos roared and lunged at her, slamming his own Power down in a shield around her.

She shrieked, spun and kicked at him. “Stop it!”

He grabbed her shoulders and shook her, wild to yank her out of whatever she was experiencing. “You’re dreaming,” he said harshly. “Snap out of it.”

“I know I was dreaming,” she shouted. Her eyes swam with tears. She hit him in the chest with the back of her hand. “I almost had him.
Dammit
, why do you always assume that you’ve got to stomp in and save the day?”

He sat back on his heels, astonished by the violence in her reaction. “You were dreaming,” he repeated. “And Gaeleval’s using the Machine again. What did you mean, you
almost had him
?”

As they stared at each other, shouts came from the direction of the bluff. He hissed, grabbed her chin and looked deep into her eyes as he sent a spear of Power into her. Her back stiffened and she gritted her teeth, but evidently she recognized what he meant to do, for she bore with it. As soon as he was convinced she wasn’t controlled, he pulled out.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said, digging her thumb and forefinger into her eyes. “Just go.”

The sound of running footsteps approached, along with a ripple of reaction through the camp. “Put your armor on,” he told her. He rolled to the edge of the tent and planted his feet just outside the flap. Just before he shoved to his feet, she grabbed his arm and he paused.

“If you can, try not to kill him,” she said quickly. She looked hard into his eyes. “Gaeleval is a victim too.”

Bloody hell.

The reaction came closer as people shouted to each other. He gritted, “Pia, I don’t know that we’re going to have a choice.”

“I know,
I know
. Just try.” She searched his expression. “Trying is enough.”

He nodded and expelled a breath. “I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all I ask.” She leaned over and kissed him quickly. “And I’m sorry too.”

He hooked an arm around her shoulders and crushed her to him for an all-too-brief moment. Then he shoved out of the tent and rose to his feet.

Outside, the night had begun to pale, and the scene looked dirty and washed out. In contrast the light of the individual campfires, along with the larger fire still blazing in the passageway, looked garish and unsatisfying. The encampment had churned all the snow in the surrounding area to mud, and it had frozen into solid brown chunks of ice. If the temperature got over freezing that day, the ground would turn into a filthy soup.

Bayne walked toward him. Despite the sentinel’s bulk, he was light on his feet and dodged nimbly around those who stood in his way. As soon as the gryphon laid eyes on him, Bayne said telepathically,
The Numenlaurians are starting to climb the bluff. Looks like Gaeleval has kept back the strongest and healthiest. He’s sending in his battle fodder, and that includes the kids. There’s too many to take prisoner, but I don’t think any of us have the stomach to cut ’em down. They look bad, Chief.

Dragos wanted to spit fire. What a cluster fuck. Even if they took the enthralled Elves prisoner, they didn’t have any place to hold them.
Get back to the bluff and issue a no-kill order,
he snapped.
If you can, focus on taking the kids and knock the rest of them back when they reach the top. Then if the falls kills anybody, it’s on me.

Bayne spun on his heel and loped away.

Dragos had to find Calondir. They could not continue to stay in this frozen state any longer. Whether Amras Gaeleval was a victim or not was beside the point. He was too dangerous, and he was causing too much damage. They had to stop him.

He strode to the heart of the Elven camp. “Get Calondir,” he said to the first Elf that came toward him. The Elf took one wide-eyed look at him and spun away. Moments later, Calondir shoved out of a tent and hurried toward him, buckling on his sword as he approached and followed by Ferion and a few others.

Dragos told the Elf Lord in a preemptory tone, “Gaeleval slipped past our defenses. Somehow he got to Pia in a dream, and he might have gotten to others. Now he’s sent Numenlaurians to scale the bluff. I’ve told my people to knock them back for now, but there’s no more time to fuck around. We can’t put this off any longer. We have to go after him, Calondir.”

Calondir studied him with an inscrutable expression. Then the Elf Lord said abruptly, “I understand.” He said to the others, “As heartsick as this makes all of us, we must find where he is keeping our people and concentrate our efforts on them. After that, we will help who we can of any Numenlaurians that survive.”

“None of this is going to come easy,” Dragos told him. “Bayne said Gaeleval’s keeping the strongest back and sending out battle fodder to climb the bluff. Your people are the strongest. They’re certainly the healthiest. That means he’s holding them close. They’ll be wherever he is, because they are his best defense.”

The hollows around Calondir’s eyes grew deeper as his face tightened, but he nodded. “Above all else, we have to make him stop using the Machine. Will you allow me to ride with you once more, so that we can hunt him together?”

He ground his teeth. “Yes, of course, but we must do it now.”

Calondir turned to Ferion. “Keep the fight defensive, and don’t hesitate to do what you have to do to protect yourself.”

“Yes, my lord,” Ferion said. He said very low, eyes pleading, “But I would come with you.”

“No, Ferion,” Calondir said, just as quietly. “You are my heir. You know that we do not fight together.”

Dragos had had enough. They were idiots if they hadn’t already said everything they needed to say to each other before now. “Get out of the way,” he said to those that hovered nearby. As soon as they were out of the way, he shifted and expanded. The dragon looked down at the Elf Lord. “Come.”

Calondir leaped onto his back, and Dragos unfurled his wings. He took one moment to look over the encampment for one last glimpse of Pia. She was just outside their tent and tying on a cloak, and she paused as she caught sight of him. She looked calm.

She blew a kiss subtly, pressing the tips of her fingers to her lips and releasing them a few inches toward him.

The dragon smiled. Then he crouched and launched into the air. When he had cleared the trees, he wheeled and flew toward the Numenlaurian army in the valley.

•   •   •

P
ia watched Dragos soar into the air. She fought the panicky compulsion to call out to him and try to coax him into returning. He wouldn’t, nor should he. Talking to him now would only distract him from what he needed to do.

Eva and the psychos stood in a circle around her. She turned her attention to them. They watched her, ready for orders.

“I have no idea,” she said irritably, unintentionally echoing what Dragos had said the night before. She looked at Hugh. “Except for you. You need to stay with me and be ready to shapeshift at a moment’s notice. If Dragos or one of the sentinels gets hurt, and I tell you to take me to them, you will take me. No hesitation.” Eva had started to protest, and Pia turned to stare the other woman down. “No arguments, no back talk.”

Eva’s face compressed. She looked ready to explode. “Jesus Christ and all his hairy-assed apostles,” she hissed. “Hugh can only carry one person at a time.” She turned to Johnny. “Find me another avian fighter who’s strong enough to carry me, and make it snappy.”

He looked from Eva to Pia, backed up a few steps and whirled to spring away.

Pia rubbed her face. Most of the camp had raced along the path to the bluff, and the noise level had increased from that direction. Shouts and curses echoed as sharp as gunshot reports against tree trunks. She pinched her nose. The sounds dug into her gut and strung out her nerves. It was even harder to listen to because she couldn’t see what was happening.

“Crossbow,” Eva said quietly.

She threw up her hands.
“Fuck you.”

Despite her reaction, she spun and reached into the tent for the crossbow and the bolts. Then she hesitated as she contemplated her pack. She hadn’t been able to eat the night before and she hadn’t eaten this morning either. Nerves might have her stomach tied in knots, but she also felt lightheaded and hollow.

She spat out another curse, snatched up her pack to find a protein bar, tore it open and jammed it into her mouth. With the way her luck had been going lately she was probably going to hork it all back up again, but she had to try to get some nutrition down.

When she turned around, Johnny jogged back on the path from the bluff. A large familiar figure ran beside him.

Graydon.

Another shock rippled through her as she caught sight of Graydon’s expression. His face was set in such savage lines, she almost didn’t recognize him. Pia broke through the circle and ran toward him, her heart in her throat. “Is everything all right?”