Mythborn (61 page)

Arek looked down and saw the armored living plates that were Azrael’s covering him, protecting him from head to foot from the gholem’s bone shards. He was dimly aware of the dark angel that his father’s form took, helm and armor of burnt cinder and smoke for wings, but his eyes stayed on the hulking creature that was Valarius. He charged them, a behemoth made for destruction.

A blaze of arrows flew from behind Arek’s leg, fired unerringly by Yetteje.

The creature waded in but Duncan and Arek scattered and Yetteje vaulted up, somersaulting over the gholem’s head. As she fell she fired three more arrows in quick succession into the creature’s back.

Valarius let loose a howl of rage and spun, raising its arms when streaks of silver tattooed a small pattern of explosions around his face.

Arek followed the line back to Brianna, still kneeling, firing her strange weapon at the creature. It made a
zip
sound at each pull of the trigger, sending some kind of explosive projectile at the gholem. They seemed to be doing little good but the distraction gave Arek the time to charge and strike.

Hitting the creature felt like hitting a wall, the impact jarring him to the bone. An elbow smacked down on his back and he shifted, letting the blow glance off a wing. Then he struck a double punch that sent a gauntleted fist into the creature’s face and midsection simultaneously.

Had the creature Valarius had become not been armored it was likely Arek’s tactic would have stunned it. Had the creature only the mindless rage of a gholem it was likely its counter would have been something more mundane. But the creature was armored and not mindless. It gestured and lightning coursed from its hands, striking the young Adept and blasting him backward, his face locked in a teeth-clenching rictus.

Duncan dived in, breaking the highlord’s attention and disrupting the lightning storm enveloping Arek. He too met a brutal counter, matching his prowess against a man who had led the Galadine forces on the field of battle and the elven forces in Arcadia. Armed now with the strength of the gholem, Valarius struck a vicious blow downward, catching Duncan hard on his helm. The helm let out a small cloud of ash and sparks, as if cracking under the might of Valarius’s fists, and Duncan fell in a heap at the gholem’s feet.

Arek shook his head, slowly leveraging himself up, only to see Valarius smashing his bone shard fists into Duncan’s armor again and again. The archmage had collapsed, barely defending himself, and Arek knew it was only a matter of time before one of those fists broke through.

Tej fired her bow but Valarius ignored the arrows as they mostly bounced off his bone plates. Brianna had collapsed again, and Arek was not sure if she was awake or had fallen back into a stupor. He fought to regain his feet, then sent a bolt of pure whitefire into the beast. It knocked Valarius back a step, enough for Arek to see Duncan scramble away, then Tej was there, facing the creature by herself!

“It makes me sick to know we share the same blood,” she said, then let loose with Valor like a goddess of the bow. Her arrows flew like spears of flaming light and Valarius fell back, crossing his arms in front of his body. Then the flames began to spread, each impact snaking in random directions around the creature as Valarius brought his magical defenses to bear. The shield that formed before him deflected Valor’s arrows into small expanding clouds of fire that curved around the gholem’s body. Valarius bent forward, then took step after step toward them. “You betray your own family!” the highlord screamed, advancing with murderous intent upon the princess. “The price for treason is death!”

Arek couldn’t use his whitefire because Tej blocked his way, so he moved forward to intercept the creature.

“Stand steady,” a voice said, and an enormous archangel armored in silver and blue was there, striking Valarius from behind. The silver blades stabbed through the gholem, and as it turned, the new Aeris Lord sliced off a clawed hand at the wrist and kicked the creature back.

“Orion!” cried Yetteje.

“Not exactly, Princess,” the visor popped open and behind it was the firstmark’s clear gaze, his eyes crinkled into a smile. Then Valarius screamed and the visor snapped back down. A storm of lightning was unleashed at the two.

Ash encircled the princess with his wings and tucked her within, careful she did not touch any part of him. The blast hit him with the force of a cannon, throwing him and Yetteje to one side.

Arek watched them fall. The giant figure was not moving but Yetteje had recovered Valor and was crawling to her feet, but moving slowly as if dazed. Just then Brianna was there, pulling the princess down behind some rubble. He looked back at the highlord, whose wrist had already stopped bleeding.

He needs blood to heal, his father’s voice mindspoke. Don’t give him any.

Arek looked over and saw Duncan slowly getting up, his armor cracked and his helm gone. A sudden bolt of lightning caught him in the chest and flung him back and away, the strike so quick his father hadn’t even made a sound.

Arek spun to come face to face with the creature that was Valarius, his mind finally clearing from the aftereffects of the lightning storm. A sudden cold clarity, the knowledge that he was still very much in the middle of a fight and not a spectator, hit him. It was a disjointed thing, a disconnection with the events that brought him here, though could recall them all. He knew he’d been in a fugue, the blast had put him in a twilight from which he’d acted out of instinct. His next actions would either mean victory or death for them all.

“I had planned much for you,” rasped Valarius, the grotesqueness of the creature giving Arek the impression he spoke to what had always been the highlord’s true inner self. “I gave you life, protected your mother. I made you a weapon to survive these Aeris demons, and you repay me with this!”

“You aren’t taking your madness to Edyn,” Arek said with a shrug, “no matter the cost.”

“Spoken like a true avatar of my making. Let us—”

“Hold!” Piter’s voice rang with command, a strident battlefield voice unlike anything Arek had heard his fellow apprentice utter before. Around them dark nephilim rose from the floor, surrounding the area. They crowded in, forcing the two combatants away from each other slowly. They moved to surround them, forming two circles, their cold blue gazes hungry.

Piter’s black eyes watched the blood gholem hungrily, then he looked over to Arek, “Well done. You have completed the cycle started with Valarius and destroyed Arcadia.” He tapped his head and said, “Though all things must come to an end.”

Another explosion, this one closer from below, shook the ground. Fire leapt up from the opening they’d come through and the sounds of battle within the city could be heard approaching.

Arek looked at Piter and asked, “Destroyed Arcadia?”

Piter gestured to the black nephilim surrounding them, “Pestilence, disease, the rot you spread upon the Way was the only endgame that mattered.”

Arek’s brows drew together in consternation because something in the shade’s voice had changed. “The nephilim are not new. They appeared here long before I came. The elves, the Watchers, even Cainan knew of them.”

“Yes, but the Aeris, whether Watcher or Fury, were used to fighting them,” Piter said. “Only you could succeed where many before failed, only because Lilyth held her hand.”

Arek shook his head. “That makes no sense. Why would Lilyth bring me here if she knew I could destroy her kind?”

“Oh, did she not get some of what she wanted?” Piter asked. “We are at the end, all cards must be played, all debts collected.”

Arek’s eyes widened. “But I only turned a few—”

“A few here, a few there,” Piter interrupted, “and they in turn did the same. How long before Arcadia itself is turned?”

“W-why would you do this?” Arek stammered.

“Because he wants the Aeris destroyed,” the voice of Valarius growled. The creature turned to look at Piter and said, “I gave him this power, the dark Way. Who are you to interfere, slave? You should be groveling at your master’s feet.” The gholem’s eyes glowed amber with power. “I banish you from Avalyon!”

Although Valarius’s voice rang with power, nothing happened. A slow smile spread across the shade’s face and it said, “I want so much more than you comprehend.” Something in his voice caused Valarius to shift, his bone armor gleaming dully as he faced the dark shade, but it seemed Piter did not care. He looked at the horde surrounding the creature that was now Valarius and said, “Take him.”

The nephilim horde moved forward like an ocean wave, acting as a foe with a single mind hungering for flesh. At the first touch of a dark one Valarius spun in place and smashed the nephilim, then let loose a lightning blast that expanded outward, forcing those around him away. Another white bolt seared a hole through the horde, vaporizing the nephilim it hit, but the darkness flowed in like the tide as the horde reconverged. A third, then a fourth, this last one barely visible beneath the dark mass that covered the blood gholem.

Piter clenched his hand, looking at Arek. “He could have prevailed had you not brought me here. Now he turns to a better purpose.”

Still even more came rising from the floor, biting and ripping as the horde covered the monstrous beast, turning it from blood red to inky black, a new kind of nephilim with unknown limits. The abomination regained its feet, its eyes burning a cold blue as the darkness took over and whatever was once Valarius Galadine was consumed.

Arek was stunned at the suddenness of the highlord’s fall. He blinked, only to be brought back to the here and now by Piter, who had moved closer to him. “Do you see the power of the darkness? It cannot be combated by the Way, for it feasts upon it.”

Piter tilted his head back, taking in Avalyon at a glance. “When I overheard Lilyth planning with Thoth to send you here, I could not believe our fortune. Delivering Valarius was an unanticipated bonus, a crowning achievement. It is fitting he die by the hand of his own creation, no?”

Arek was quiet, thinking about how Piter had demanded to release him. Finally he said, “You certainly timed things right.”

Piter shrugged that off and said, “One must gain their freedom. Lilyth was fond of saying she played the razor’s edge. I did the same, beholding myself to ensure you entered Arcadia. Every step we took together meant life or death.”

Whatever this thing was, it said it made sure he entered Arcadia. It was obvious it had used any means at its disposal, fear, carefully placed words, lies, threats, anything to achieve that goal. A moment passed, then two.

Finally Arek said, “And now what?”

A slow smile spread on Piter’s face, behind which such malevolence shone it caused even Arek to take a step back. The shade grew, becoming taller, larger. It did not grow to the height of the Ascended but somehow seemed more imposing in its stature.

The dark figure who was once Piter looked at them all and said, “Unraveling the blackfire has made you of little use to me. However,” the black eyes blinked once slowly, like a reptile’s, “I am not without mercy. You did me a great service, so I leave Arcadia to you for however long it lasts.”

Arek watched, reviewing all he knew of the shade. He’d started subservient and acidic in his hate, but nowhere near this powerful. Now he sounded different, more menacing, somehow
older
.

“You’re not Piter.” Arek said, little things coming together all at once. The fact that Piter did not remember any specific details prior to his death, or the clumsy way in which the
combat trained
apprentice had handled Brutus and his men. Arek’s eyes narrowed and he knew it was the truth.

The shade shrugged and smiled. “Does it matter? The deed you were created for has been done, the cycle is complete, the game has come to its end. Your nephilim now multiply, destroying the Way wherever they go. Soon they will overrun Arcadia, and only Edyn will remain. Cainan will carry your blight to the known world.” Then Piter gestured and his remaining nephilim along with the silent, massive hulk of the dark Vengeance descended into the floor.

He looked at them all with his black liquid eyes and smiled. “The blood gate has closed. I judge you have two days at most before you too are consumed and return your essence to the Way.”

“Where will you escape to?” asked Arek.

“What need have I for escape?” countered the dark shade. “You cannot defeat what you do not comprehend.”

With that, the figure disappeared and the hall grew still, somehow feeling darker and less alive. Scattered about lay the survivors of the party, sitting atop a wooden city set ablaze.

Hand of Justice

Do not let those who capture also judge.

The chase makes their blood hot and their rage swift.

-
          
Argus Rillaran, The Power of Deceit

S
ounds could still be heard below, now even closer, the sounds of fighting and mayhem. Something was driving its way up, causing Arek to look for Duncan. Once he found his father he gently shook him, happy to hear a groan, then he turned his attention back to the gate. The thing that had masqueraded as Piter had said it was closed. Before he could take a closer look his father gasped, struggling to rise, so Arek helped him up, scattering a bunch of magehunter torcs that lay about from the first attack by the elves. They made a hollow ringing sound, like cheap jewelry and Arek cursed the sight of them.

The men of Bara’cor held the other side of the gate, but the king was pressed against the shimmering field, clearly unable to enter. Arek changed back to his normal form and Duncan followed suit. A groan from his right revealed Brianna tending to Ash, who had also changed back to normal.

It took a few moments to check on everyone, but soon they were all gathered near the gate. Duncan seemed to be most injured, followed by Ash and finally Yetteje. Upon closer inspection Arek realized the bolt that had pierced Brianna was gone, and he guessed either she, or whatever magic she used, must have pushed it out.

“Is the gate shut?” he asked Duncan.

The archmage cleared his eyes and scrutinized it, then nodded. “Both ways. They can open it if they sacrifice another elf, but only into Arcadia. We’ll need blood to open a way back.”

Yetteje breathed in then asked, “Arek, are you all right?”

Arek looked at her and smiled. Something within him, something clean, answered, “Yes, for the first time, I think I am.” Then he added, “I just wish we weren’t about to die.” The smile she returned made him feel elated, and he resisted the urge to simply hug her right then and there.

The firstmark rubbed his head, then looked at Arek and Duncan without emotion. When his eyes got to Yetteje however he said, “I’m happy you’re unharmed, princess.” Then he rose with a groan and motioned for Yetteje to follow. They went closer to the shimmering field, looking at the king.

When they neared, King Galadine said, “Sparrow says the gate can be opened from your end.”

“How?” Ash asked, surprised. He looked at Yetteje, a cautious smile on his face.

There was a pause, then the king said, “Sparrow sacrifices herself, opening the gate again and one of our elves will come through. Then that elf will sacrifice himself and open the gate from your end.”

The party was stunned, but as Ash’s smile faltered Yetteje spoke first. “No. You can’t.”

A voice from behind them said, “You will fail. Only true sacrifice can make blood magic work.”

They turned, only to see King Mikal Galadine slowly step into view. He looked down on the body of Israfel and Gabreyl, his son and great-grandson, then back up at Duncan. He stepped forward and said, “Valarius was wrong—a man possessed with an incessant need for retribution. I’m the one to blame. I caused much harm and ruin for you, Duncan. We were friends once. I would bring some kind of peace between us.”

At that Sonya appeared, looking forlorn but desperate. She rushed over to Arek, looking him up and down without touching him. “You should know I sent you to Edyn for your safety. I never expected you to return and would have counted myself lucky if I had never seen you again, so long as you lived.”

“Why didn’t you come with me?”

Sonya’s eyes softened and she said, “I could not…”

“She was in love with Valarius, son,” Duncan’s tired voice still managed to drip with spite. “Your mother chose him over us.”

“You dare question my—”

“And she died at Valarius’s hands for that love,” said the elven king sadly. “You argue at a time when it is unseemly.”

Stunned, Arek said, “He… killed you?”

Sonya looked down, then nodded slowly. “True sacrifice was needed to send someone to Bara’cor to realign Lilyth’s gate. I was given up for that.”

Arek shook his head, unable to come to grips with all this. He squeezed his eyes shut, then said, “There’s a lot I want to ask you.”

“Later,” she promised, then brought herself visibly under control. She looked at Mikal and said, “What do you want?” Then she was quiet, her eyes downcast, as if in desperation she feared to say anything lacking more propriety.

Mikal knelt next to the body of his son, then looked up at Duncan and said, “Let me offer myself as sacrifice.”

There was a quick murmur of surprise, but Duncan’s expression didn’t change. When there was no answer, Mikal continued, “You cannot know the years I have spent in regret. I welcomed the death you offered me in life, Duncan, but my misery did not end. Valarius summoned me from death to his bidding and once again I saw myself wreaking havoc upon you and yours. This is where we end our journey, righting that wrong. I always wondered—”

Two things happened simultaneously. A black blade appeared, erupting out of Mikal’s throat in a shower of blood, the strike so sudden and vicious it caught everyone by surprise. And something whizzed by with a coppery flash and Duncan fell back as a torc snapped around his neck. The archmage sat down heavily, clutching at his throat ineffectually as the torc nullified his connection to the Way.

Slowly, Mikal fell forward, his blood splashing the inlays and pooling at their feet. As it did so, the gate flashed once and turned into the color of blood again. The shimmering curtain cleared and they could see the king’s party plainly, peering through their side of the portal though they could not pass into Avalyon without a meaningful sacrifice of their own.

Arek stood there, unable to reason out what had happened. He looked down at Mikal’s body uncomprehendingly, watching as the light of life left the elven king’s eyes.

Then a voice said, “I thought he’d never shut up.”

Kisan shimmered and then stepped into view, addressing the group. “I’ll make this simple. Yetteje, Ash, Brianna—go through. Arek, you and the red mage stay here.”

Arek stepped forward and said, “The blackfire is gone.”

“It’s true, I swear it,” Brianna concurred. “I was able to heal the part of—”

Kisan held up a hand and said, “These two are staying, not because they’re a danger to Edyn, but because they’re murderers.”

When Brianna looked at her in shock, the master arched one eyebrow and continued, “The red mage killed hundreds, perhaps thousands to gain what he wanted. He bargained with the demon-queen at the expense of Edyn’s safety and directly caused the deaths of all those we know and loved.”

Yetteje’s eyes darted to Arek’s, and she flinched at the directness of Kisan’s accusations. Tej took a step back.

“You promised to kill me by your hand before all this was over, remember?” Duncan said.

The archmage was speaking to the princess, and in all this mayhem they’d just faced was it any wonder she’d forgotten? The expression on Tej’s face said as plainly as words how survival had trumped any thoughts of vengeance, but now that coin was turning.

Duncan dropped his eyes. “Your charges can be justly laid at my feet,” he said simply. Then he looked up at Kisan and said, “But Arek has done nothing. Take me, but let him go.”

Kisan turned her attention to Duncan, acid in her voice. “Nothing, red mage? He killed an innocent boy, my son Piter, but circumstance stayed the lore father’s hand.”

Her eyes strayed to Arek but did not look directly at him, as if the very sight of him sickened her. Into the air she said, “I told Silbane you’d not escape justice for Piter, no matter whatever else may happen. Now, with the blackfire gone, I’m free to follow the new lore father’s sanction. The truth is I’ve been looking forward to this for a while.”

Kisan’s gaze wandered over to Silbane’s body and her eyes seemed to soften a bit, then she turned back to Arek, “But your crimes do not end there. At his worst, he was worth more than a thousand thousand of you. Yet you never appreciated the man he was, not when it mattered. Your actions forced
my
hand. I also lay the charge of Silbane’s death at your feet,
apprentice
.” The way she said the word, it sounded like a curse.

Kisan stepped forward, changed form to her full armored height, and pitched her voice so the king could hear. “Pull those you love back before it’s too late. Anyone left here will be trapped, and if they try and help these two, will be killed.”

The king’s voice sounded hollow and distant but his order was clear: “Ash, get the princess out now!”

Ash began to move but Yetteje countered, moving closer to Arek and the group. Her expression mirrored her words. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re not taking her,” Arek added. He looked at the firstmark and added, “We’re staying together.” He noticed Tej nodding, and a small part of him swelled with pride. She wanted to stay too.

Strangely, the firstmark gave up more easily than Arek expected, instead turning to face Kisan. He moved forward deliberately and said, “What you do with Arek doesn’t concern us, but the red mage is
ours
. As you’ve said, his crimes against Edyn are many and unforgivable, and he will stand trial for them before the King of Bara’cor.”

Kisan shook her head, “A trial? Not good enough.”

“He’s torced. Believe me when I say he will pay for every death he caused.” The firstmark took a step closer to Duncan and met Kisan’s gaze unflinchingly, “But he stands under Bara’cor’s aegis. Stand in my way and you and I fight again.”

“I’ll kill you again,” she stated flatly.

“Perhaps, or perhaps Arek will realize this is his one chance and side with me. You’ll face all of us and jeopardize getting no one.” When Kisan didn’t immediately answer, Ash took a breath and said, “Agree, and we both walk away with something we want.”

Arek spun to look at the firstmark, the expression on his face one of surprise. “You think I’m just going to let you take my father?”

Yetteje remained silent, her eyes wide with indecision. The murderer of her father was also Arek’s father, and she clearly did not trust herself to speak.

Ash flicked a glance at Arek and said, “I already beat you once by myself. Now you’ll be facing both me and Kisan. You’re good, but unless you’ve learned something new in the past few days, you’re not
that
good.”

“I’ll stand with him, Firstmark. Would you fight me too?” Yetteje, coming to a sudden decision, asked simply.

Arek looked quickly between the two, stepping back toward Duncan. “You’re not taking him,” he said as the white armor of Azrael flashed into being, surrounding him like a second skin in its protective embrace.

Ash shook his head. “Arek, the man is responsible for the deaths of
thousands
. He needs to pay for those lives.” He looked at the princess, “He killed your family. Don’t stop me.” The firstmark had drawn his blade too.

Kisan edged out to her left, flanking Arek. “If you have any honor left, you’ll agree to my judgment peacefully.”

“Do something!” Sonya cried to Duncan.

Arek looked at Yetteje and then his father and said, “I’m not going to let anyone kill us.”

Kisan slowed, then put one black blade point down in the ground, considering. After a few heartbeats she said, “I have to admire your pragmatism, firstmark. Well played.” She paused, her eyes flicking back and forth as she blazed through the possible outcomes, then she said, “Very well, Duncan is yours, but if he’s alive in a week, I’ll kill everyone left in Bara’cor.”

Normally such a threat from anyone else would be considered idle, but Arek knew it was very real. The master was exceedingly dangerous, but Kisan wasn’t going to get her way. He wasn’t going to allow it. He drew both his blades and his wings curved forward protectively in front, “Take a step toward us and we’ll see what new things I’ve learned.”

Kisan stepped forward as if daring him to act, looking at Arek like a black angel of judgment. She rose to her full height and said, “For the murder of your name brother and fellow apprentice Piter Winterthorn, and for the murder of Master Silbane Darius Petracles, I sentence you, Apprentice Arek Winterthorn, to death.”

Arek let the words roll over and through him, her verdict delivered with such finality it brooked no argument except absolute guilt without reprieve. For some reason he did not care, his mind watching and calculating distances and timing. A calm had stolen over him, a temperance he was not normally used to. Then a movement caught the corner of his eye and he flicked a glance, only to see his father walking slowly toward the portal.

“Father?” Arek said, now swiveling his head and backing up, trying to keep him and Kisan in view. “What are you doing?”

Duncan looked back at him, his features drawn and tired. Now that the immediate threat of Valarius had ended, the frantic energy that had sustained him was clearly gone. Add to that his severance from the beneficence of the Way and the man looked worn and haggard, physically healed from most of his torture but still nowhere near recovered. Duncan hadn’t paused at Kisan’s decree, but kept marching single-mindedly for the gate.