From Cold Ashes Risen (The War Eternal Book 3)

by Rob J. Hayes

  Josef's eyes darted to mine and I saw something there. Determination. Pride. "This…" He coughed and blood spattered his lips. "Is what… I can do." I realised then that he was healing. Broken bones snapping back into place, mending. Torn flesh renewing itself. His innate Biomancy was healing him through wounds that should have killed him.

  You have never been good at being the shield, Eskara. Let others carry that burden. Be the weapon.

  I saw another kinetic wave coming and met it with my own. The two forces crashed together in an explosion of purple energy that shook the laboratory around us. The Iron Legion was on his feet again, the wound in his side all but gone and the stone covering his fists replaced by metal, solid but moulding to his movements. Several little golems started tearing their way free of the stone floor behind him, each one like a spider the size of a dog, small bodies and barbed legs.

  "Why are you fighting me, Helsene?" the Iron Legion's voice rang out loud, echoing in the confines of the laboratory. "Can't you see what we have done? They can be brought back. Together we can resurrect them all and save this world."

  In my darksight, I saw Coby creeping around behind the Iron Legion. The flames were gone, extinguished when she changed her form. Now, she was a small girl, half my size and wearing nothing but a loose shift as dark as her skin. In her hand she still held the sceptre, our only chance of stopping the Iron Legion. It dawned on me that not all fights could be won with brute force; some were won with guile and misdirection. I had to distract him.

  "You really don't understand the Rand and Djinn do you, Loran?" I pitched my voice to carry, all but shouted the words to cover any sound Coby might make. "They hate each other in a way we can't even fathom. It's written into their very being. You could bring them all back, and they might even work together for a time, but it will not last. It cannot last. In time, they will go back to warring with each other, and it is always those caught in the middle who suffer most. How many terrans died last time during the War Eternal? How many pahht? Tahren, garn, even the mur. Countless deaths." It was an argument he had heard before, I had made before. It wouldn't sway him, but then that wasn't the point. The Iron Legion was beyond swaying with words, beyond reason or doubt. A fanatic beyond anything but the argument of the blade. "There is always another way, Loran. A way that doesn't involve sacrificing tens of thousands of lives to bring back a war that will cost ten times that many."

  The spidery golems flanked the Iron Legion, more and more of them tearing their way free from the stone floor around him. He stood amid them all, his hairless face making him seem surprised. "I do not need your cooperation, Helsene. Like Yenhelm, you can be forced or coerced. The portal must be closed. I will see it done."

  He's lying. A justification he once told himself and now fears to let go.

  I took a step forward. There were nearly a dozen golems between us now, waiting on a multitude of legs. "The portal has stood that way for a thousand years and will stand for another thousand." The truth seemed so obvious to me. "I have seen the creature beyond that hole in our world, Loran. It has no interest in us or Ovaeris. It made the Rand and the Djinn. It separated them, jailed them inside our moons. A monster that powerful… if it wanted to come through, it would do so." Coby was close now, picking her way through the golems behind him.

  The Iron Legion shook his head. "There is no reasoning with you." It is the last recourse of those with no reason to accuse others of being beyond it.

  It took no gesture or signal from the Iron Legion to command his golems. In a moment, they were crowded around him and the next they surged toward me. One of them bumped into Coby, only a few paces from the Iron Legion and he turned just as she leapt at him. They clashed then, but I lost sight of them as I backed away, sending out kinetic wave after wave to knock the skittering golems back. My Arcmancy did nothing against the constructs. Fire, too, did little against their stone carapace. I could knock them away, even separate limbs, but they only reformed and came at me again. And over the swarming horde I could see Coby struggling against the Iron Legion. She had both the speed and the strength to swat him, but it seemed she had no magic save her ability to change form. Silva had been a Sourcerer and a powerful one, but either Coby carried no Sources or could not.

  Josef barrelled into the golems; his broken back already healed. He used no magic and each of the little constructs attached itself to him, tearing into his flesh. He took the wounds with screams of pain and staggered on through them. It opened a small hole in the swarm, and I ran for it.

  The Iron Legion had the measure of Coby now and caught her hand around the sceptre, plucking it from her grip. Before the Aspect could recover, the Iron Legion whisked his hand upward and two pillars of rock, one from above and one from below, snapped together, crushing Coby between them. I could not even see her childlike form anymore, only cracked stone where the two pillars had crushed together. Before I could reach him, the Iron Legion whisked his other hand upward and the sceptre disappeared into the rock above, lost. He had seen through the ruse and taken away our only weapon. He turned to me and released a plume of flames so large it required both hands. I skidded to a halt and caught the fire on my right hand, drawing on my own Pyromancy Source to shield myself from the heat.

  Ssserakis hissed out its displeasure. My horror was not a fan of fire or heat. Given the ferocity of the flames, neither was I. I could feel the skin on my right hand growing uncomfortably hot. But the Iron Legion had made a mistake by releasing such a plume of fire. He had blinded himself. I formed a Sourceblade in my shadowy hand, a spear at least twice of me long, and thrust it forward into the heart of the flames.

  The Iron Legion shouted in pain and the flames gutted out. I leapt forward, not willing to give him even a moment of respite, and slammed my shadowy talons into his mid-section. I would have managed even more, but one of the stone golems tackled me to the ground, slashing at me with sharpened limbs. I wrestled the thing for a moment, tearing it apart with my shadowy hand. Only to find the Iron Legion staring at me, rage in his eyes. He had a hand clutched to his chest, but I could see the wounds I had dealt him sowing themselves shut already.

  The rock beneath me went fluid, only for a moment, just enough that I sank an inch into it, and then solidified again, holding me in place. The Iron Legion took a staggering step forward, blood leaking out between his fingers and from his nose. He was wincing from the pain.

  "I am done playing with you, Helsene!" the Iron Legion roared, blood spitting out with each word.

  I have never been one to let another's anger outdo my own. "You think rock will hold me?" I had no idea how to use Geomancy, but I knew I had absorbed some before the Source rejection almost killed me. I had been using it without realising, bit by bit, to move the fingers of my stone arm. Now I used it to loosen the rock around me just enough to pull free.

  The pillar of rock nearby exploded outward and Coby stood there in the form of a hulking pahht, as big as Hardt and thick with muscle and fur. She roared and leapt forward, tackling the Iron Legion to the ground and savaging him with claws and teeth before he could raise a new defence. It should have been enough. But I'm not sure the Iron Legion still counted as terran. His Biomancy had always been strong, but it had been bolstered by the souls he had stolen from others. All his magic was made stronger by the strength of others. But his Biomancy was not like Josef's, it was not innate. I realised then what I was seeing. Magic mixing together. Biomancy and Chronomancy drawn together to heal wounds that should be fatal.

  The Iron Legion's screams of pain grew louder as he took hold of them with Vibromancy. I clutched at my ears to no avail. Coby's assault slowed and then stopped, the pain of the noise driving her back and then to the ground, her whimpers lost amid the cacophony.

  Ssserakis saved us all then. All sound stopped save for the rushing of my own heartbeat as Ssserakis formed shadowy plugs over my ears.

  I cannot help the others. We must end this, Eskara. How?

  The Iron L
egion's wounds were almost completely healed, but I could see fresh blood leaking from his nose and ears, and panic on his face. He was overtaxed. Holding too many Sources, using too much magic, mixing Chronomancy with Biomancy had only sped the process. He was in mid stage Source rejection. The Iron Legion's abilities were legendary, even back at the academy, his strength to hold off rejection something even the most powerful of Sourcerers could only wish for, but even he had limits. Even he was subject to the laws of our world. And he was nearing his limit now.

  Ssserakis didn't need to hear my words to understand. My horror already knew my plan. I reached out with my right hand and unleashed the Arcstorm upon the Iron Legion. Lightning burst from my fingers and wreathed the Iron Legion. His constructs leapt into the way, piling stone on top of stone to block the attack, but Ssserakis reached out with my shadow and swept them aside. Caught in my storm, the Iron Legion could no longer keep his Vibromancy going and the sound of his amplified scream died away to leave only the new screams echoing around the laboratory.

  Coby had changed again, assumed the form a young terran woman with flame red hair, but she struggled to find balance, the effects of the Vibromancy persisting even once the noise was gone. Josef, finally free of the constructs, struggled to my side. We both knew he couldn't help now, only watch.

  "Run!" I hissed the word. Lightning still arced between my outstretched hand and the Iron Legion, spasming in pain as his magic mixed inside to heal the damage I was doing him.

  Josef shook his head. "I'm not leaving you."

  I managed to glance his way. "He's suffering from rejection. Get away while you can." We both knew what final stage Source rejection did to a person. It was bad enough with only one Source inside, but the Iron Legion could apparently carry ten and the mixture of such magics breaking down within the body was likely to be… explosive.

  I felt frustration. It wasn't mine. That's enough, Eskara. Get us out of here.

  I shook my head. Lightning still arced from my fingers, striking the Iron Legion and causing him to spasm in pain. "I can't give him the opportunity to find Spiceweed."

  You'll die this close.

  I had no reply to that.

  Fire, sound, rock, metal, lightning, kinetic force, portals, constructs, emotion, the Other World, life, time. Rumour had it the Iron Legion could carry ten Sources inside. For once, the rumours were not equal to the truth. Twelve types of magic, the Iron Legion carried, and when final stage Source rejection took him, they all broke down at once. It was an explosion of magic unlike anything the world had seen since the War Eternal. Forces that had no business mixing. Wild energies that could not be contained. Magic in its rawest form, that even the Rand and Djinn do not fully understand. And at the last moment, before the Iron Legion died and took me with him, Josef threw himself in front of the blast.

  Chapter 37

  How to explain that detonation of magic? It was chaos. It was light and noise, heat and cold, joy and sadness. It fragmented time and happened across all realms at once. Both the roof and the floor caved in, and there is seemingly no end to that hole. Perhaps it goes all the way through, a bottomless pit ten of me across leading to the other side of the world. The storm that rages in that hole is as much mine as the Iron Legion's, I think. I put everything I had into it, the full force of the Arcstorm inside of me. I all but emptied myself of that fury, but I couldn't help but keep the smallest part back. My eyes no longer flashed like a raging storm, but like distant lightning caught behind a blanket of clouds. The detonation was madness in its rawest form. It should have killed everything within that ruined city. It would have, if not for Josef.

  Like me, Josef had been changed by the Iron Legion's experiment. On some level I could never understand, and by a process that will always be a mystery to me, we could absorb magic. By throwing himself in front of me, Josef took the brunt of that magical discharge and absorbed it into himself. The forces must have been terrible, tearing him apart inside, but his innate Biomancy sustained him through it, kept him alive. Sometimes I think it would have been kinder if he had died. Some fates are worse than death.

  Is he dead?

  I was staring at Josef, slumped over and not moving, but I knew who Ssserakis meant. "Yes." The hole in front of us, sparking with a storm was proof enough of that. Never before had any Sourcerer broken down so violently. It left a strangeness to the place. The walls between realms were thinner there, and I could feel things pressing in on our world. I turned from that feeling and knelt over my friend.

  Josef was slumped over on hands and knees, his face hidden and pressed to the ground. The clothing on his back and been burnt away and his skin seemed wrong. It was like something in a constant state of flux, unable to decide what form it should take. One moment it appeared flesh, and the next it was rough stone, then translucent so I could see blood pumping beneath the surface and bones and organs. I will admit, I was afraid to touch him, of what it might do to him and to me. I took solace in the fact that he was alive. I could see that when his skin went clear, his heart was pumping. He was alive. Yet he did not respond to his name. When I finally gathered the courage to touch him, I shook him a little and his skin was like ice, then a few moments later like fire. He was struggling for control of himself, locked in a battle with his own flesh. An eternal war he is ever on both the winning and losing side of.

  Where is the Aspect?

  I found Coby in a similar state to Josef, though she was conscious. I could tell by the anger. A section of the roof had collapsed nearby, and she was pressed up against it, knees drawn up and arms hugging them. A young woman, willowy with skin as dark as any I had ever seen. She was entirely hairless and her face… It is difficult to describe, but she was featureless. It was not that she had no eyes or mouth, but that there was nothing to distinguish her at all. Just a moment after seeing her, I had already forgotten what she looked like. Fair to say it was disconcerting, perhaps more for her, than I. Silva once told me that Coby's curse was that she could be anyone she wished, but nobody could see her true face. Well, the Iron Legion's explosion of magic took that from her. With Silva dead, I think I was the only one who could claim to have seen the real Coby.

  "Don't look at me!" Coby hissed. Even her voice seemed oddly indistinct. A monotone drawl, instantly forgettable. "I can't change with someone looking at me."

  I looked away. Yet when I looked back, she still had not changed. Coby hugged her knees and rocked back and forth, and I'm certain I heard her sob. I can understand that. All her defences had been stripped away and for the first time in her life she was forced to be herself. It was, perhaps, made worse that she suffered that way in front of someone she hated.

  Now would be a good time to rid yourself of another enemy.

  I shook my head. "There's no sense in hating the dead."

  I don't understand.

  I crouched down near Coby, making certain not to look at her. "Will you be alright? Will it wear off?"

  Coby drew a sharp intake of breath. "I don't know."

  I pulled on the ties of my jacket and slipped my arms from its remains. It had suffered during the battle and was torn and singed and stained with blood and sweat, but it was all I had to give. I held it out to her, and Coby snatched it from me. She didn't thank me.

  "I have a favour to ask you," I said.

  Coby snorted. "You aren't forgiven. You killed my sister."

  "So, did you." I couldn't keep the anger from my voice. Blame and hate we both shared and misdirected. A cycle neither of us could escape as long as we lived. "So did your mother. It doesn't matter anymore, Coby."

  What are you planning, Eskara?

  "When you recover. Take Josef with you, please. I don't know what's wrong with him, but maybe Mezula will."

  "Why should I do anything you want?" Coby snarled the words.

  "Don't do it for me. Do it for him. Josef had nothing to do with Silva's death, he never even met her." An odd thing to realise just then, but my best friend had
never met the woman I loved. I wished they could have. I have a feeling they would have gotten on well. "And if it helps, I'm sorry, Coby." I've never been very good at apologising, but that one felt right. "I am truly sorry."

  I moved closer to the hole and the storm that raged within it. So close, I could look down into the depths and feel the charge pulling at my hair. I closed my eyes and swayed there, feeling the call of the void. Maybe it was Lesray Alderson's lasting curse, or maybe I have always felt the desire to end it all. To take away the pain and the suffering. To just stop.

  Step back.

  My eyes snapped open and I realised I was leaning over the edge, nothing more than an errant breeze away from toppling. I lurched back a step and drew in a ragged breath. I was readying myself for what was to come. Building both my courage and my determination.

  What is this, Eskara? I will not allow you to kill yourself.

  "Can you feel it, Ssserakis?" I asked. "The world is thinner here. Closer to the other. Can you feel your home?"

  I can always feel it. It pulls at me. Steals my thoughts. You cannot understand the constant pressure trying to tear me in two. I must cling to you to remain here or the pull of my world will destroy me.

  "I feel it too. Is it because of you that Sevoari feels more like home than my own world?" I was stalling, afraid to take the next step. Scared of saying goodbye.

  Are you saying you can take us there? Can we return home?

  Us. When had Ssserakis stopped thinking of itself as separate? When had I? The ancient horror had been with me for so long now I sometimes struggled to tell our thoughts apart. We had escaped the Pit and made our way to Ro'shan. We had brought Kento into the world and grieved at her loss. For a time, I thought Ssserakis had no connection to my children, but the lie of that was obvious. Ssserakis had grieved for Kento even when I refused to. Together, we fought against Silva and then threw every last bit of ourselves at Aerolis. It had not been Ssserakis' grief that had driven it into a frenzy in our struggle against the Djinn, but the horror had reacted to my pain. We raised an army together, and my horror had suffered for my time down in the Red Cells as surely as I had. It was not physical torture that pained it, but the agony of separation. I had tried to spare Ssserakis my torment, but only provided it with its own by keeping us apart. My second child, Sirileth… I sometimes think she is as much Ssserakis' daughter as my own, she certainly shares many of the horror's traits. And finally, our struggle against the Iron Legion. I could not have managed without Ssserakis. In all the events great and small, ever since the Pit, Ssserakis had been there with me. Support, advice, strength. The horror had given me all three in surplus.