by Sarah Hawke
“So if you don’t even know what the Fount is, I assume you can’t tell us where it is either,” Valuri grumbled as we moved.
“I cannot,” Hestiah lamented.
“Assuming my vision was accurate, it’s not far from the shoreline,” I said.
“In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re on a bloody island. Being ‘near the shore’ doesn’t exactly narrow things down.”
“You’re the one who eats magic,” I reminded her. “Can’t you trace the power to its source?”
“Can a dog find a single piece of meat inside a butcher’s shop?” she countered.
“I don’t know, probably. Are you a dog in this scenario?”
“Oh, shut the fuck—”
“Ayrael must be headed in that direction, and I can still sense her presence,” Kaseya interrupted before Val and I choked each other. “This way.”
As she led us through the city, I did my best to mentally prepare myself for the battle to come. We had defeated Ayrael back in the mountains abount a month ago, and we had defeated several Senosi back in Highwind just a few weeks ago. But fighting them all at once…
Well, it wasn’t going to be easy, to put it mildly. And even if we somehow won and defended the Fount, there was still the question of the Vorsalosian fleet and the army of peasants from Nol Pratos. What in the abyss were we supposed to do about all of that? How were we going to survive the wrath of the Matriarch and the Mosh’Dalar?
As you’re so fond of telling Kaseya, it’s time to focus on one existential crisis at a time.
A cold raindrop pelted my face as we jogged through the market square, and the drizzle wasted little time evolving into a downpour. Even the wind picked up; the gusts became strong enough to catch Kaseya’s ponytail and flutter the long folds of my cloak.
“As far as bad omens go, this one might be a little too on the nose,” I said, shielding my eyes against the rain.
“I thought you said the Fount was somewhere on the shore?” Valuri asked.
“It is.”
“Then why is Red leading us up there?”
I shielded my eyes against the rain and looked up at the long, winding staircase ahead of us. At the top of the hill was an immaculate, splendorous building crowned by four silver spires. It looked remarkably like one of the elven structures I had seen in a painting at Telanya’s estate back in Highwind.
I would have gladly taken a few seconds to appreciate its beauty if not for the corpses scattered about the top of the hill.
“Zor kalah ,” Hestiah whispered. “The moshalim ...”
Even from this distance, their cause of death was obvious. Most of the bodies still had crossbow bolts jutting out of them, and the few that didn’t were lying in rain-diluted pools of blood. Judging from the scorch marks on the steps, they had attempted to defend themselves with magic…and had quickly learned the true power of the Senosi.
“Ayrael is inside the temple,” Kaseya said, her eyes narrowed.
I bit down on my lip. “How many moshalim are normally here?”
“Most will have already been deployed with the fleet or on Nol Pratos,” Hestiah said.
Valuri shook her head. “Why would she bother attacking the temple when she could just go and destroy the Fount? It doesn’t make any sense.”
“No, it doesn’t,” I whispered. What were we missing?
“Whether we stop her here or at the Fount makes no difference,” Kaseya said. “Come on.”
Once we were halfway up the steps, I risked a quick glance towards the northern horizon. The battle on the sea was finally visible from this altitude, though the rolling fog and billowing clouds of smoke made discerning specific details virtually impossible. Brief flashes of light punctuated the fiery detonations of magic, and every once in a while I would catch a glimpse of a burning ship lurching listlessly across the waves. The strange part was that I didn’t see any wyverns. I wondered what they were—
“Look out!” Hestiah warned.
I heard the wyvern before I saw it. A deep, bellowing roar thundered just above us, and I actually lost my balance and toppled onto the steps before I had a chance to glance back over my shoulder. The dragon-like beast dipped low enough that I could actually see into its disgusting maw, and for an instant I thought it might attack us directly. But then I belatedly realized it had already dropped its payload at the base of the winding staircase below. The magically-reinforced troop crate shattered, and several dozen creatures burst out from the wreckage. Not Vorsalosian soldiers—creatures .
Specifically, the hulking, ten-foot tall cave trolls common to the Shattered Peaks.
“Oh, bloody hell…” I swore.
The monsters scattered the instant they were free. Half started rampaging through the lower city, apparently determined to inflict as much damage as possible while on a quest for food. The rest charged up the steps directly towards us.
Swearing again, I reached out to the Aether and conjured a thick wall of fire about a dozen steps below me, hoping to block off their path and force them to go around. But apparently they were so hungry—or so stupid—that they rushed through the roaring flames instead. Arrows and crossbow whipped past my shoulder as all three women fired down at the encroaching monsters, and between their deadly aim and my fireballs we severely thinned the herd.
Two survivors pressed on, however, and the pounding rain extinguished the flames searing their flesh. When the first one lurched towards me, I switched up my tactics to account for all the water. Sparks of lightning leapt from my fingertips, striking the beast in the torso and freezing it in place when the electrical current jolted through its limbs. The women didn’t waste any time—the troll quickly became a pincushion of arrows and bolts, and it tumbled back down the stairs in a gurgling heap.
Unfortunately, the last one couldn’t be stopped so easily. It rushed up the other side of the stairs, its disgusting, mottled flesh melting off its bones even as it slashed wildly with its claws. I backpedaled as quickly as I could, but I tripped and fell onto my ass just as it lunged in for the kill.
I shrieked in terror, fully expecting to have my face ripped off, before a red streak burst into the corner of my vision. Kaseya intercepted the troll’s attacks with her shield then flipped away and smashed it in the jaw. After a few surgical strikes with her sword—and several more arrows from Hestiah and Valuri—the beast toppled back down the steps to join its incinerated comrades. The stench of scorched flesh was so vile I honestly wondered if it would kill me faster than overchanneling.
“We have plenty more where those came from,” a voice called down from the top of the steps. “They’re disgusting creatures, but they will serve their purpose. Not unlike the wyverns or the Roskarim.”
I rolled back to my feet and wiped the rain out of my eyes. Ayrael was standing there at the top of the steps, her sword impaled through the chest of another moshalim . She was carrying him around like a hog on a stick.
“You disappoint me again, sister,” she said. “I thought you would be here. With all that you’ve learned, I honestly wondered whether you would defend the moshalim temple or not.”
She jerked her sword forward, and the corpse slid off the tip and toppled unceremoniously down the stairs. By the time it stopped a few feet in front of us, I was finally able to identify the body.
Mosh’Dalar Tanathel.
“No…” Hestiah hissed. “You will pay for this!”
Before any of us could move, she nocked an arrow and fired. Her aim was true; despite the gusts of wind, the arrow streaked directly at Ayrael’s forehead. But an instant before her skull was split cleanly in two, she caught the shaft in mid-air with her free hand.
My jaw sagged. I had seen Valuri accomplish some pretty remarkable feats after she had just fed. Leaping up onto rooftops, sprinting across a street in the blink of an eye, regenerating from wounds that would killed a troll, let alone a human…
But I doubted that even she could have reacted so quickly. We were only
about a hundred feet away, and the arrow had been in the air for less than a second. Even a Sol-Shira monk couldn’t pull that off.
“The only traitors here are the frauds who lived in this temple,” Ayrael said, snapping the arrow in half and tossing it to the ground. “But like all wicked men, their arrogance and complacency will be their undoing. The fires of justice will purge them from history.”
I glanced behind her to the rising column of black smoke billowing out of the temple. Had she really come here first purely out of spite? If so, it might have been our first genuine stroke of luck since we had arrived on the island. We could theoretically stop her before she ever had a chance to corrupt the Fount.
“Betrayer,” Hestiah growled. “The Vaer Tal’Shira will make you pay for this!”
Ayrael snorted. “But when I was born, the Mosh’Dalar claimed that I was the Daughter of Destiny, don’t you remember? Would a true prophet—a true conduit to the gods—have to change his mind again and again and again?”
“You can still surrender, sister,” Kaseya said as she dragged her eyes from Tanathel’s corpse and slowly ascended the steps one by one. The rain pattered against her blade and washed the last of the troll’s blood from the tip. “You know we have the power to defeat you.”
“And I have the power to destroy your friend,” Ayrael countered, gesturing towards Valuri. “The Mark of the Huntress is more than just a gift of power—it is a pledge of duty and obedience. But unlike those who wear the tan-ratha collar around her necks, we serve a worthy mistress.”
She opened her hand, and Valuri shrieked in pain and collapsed onto the steps. The glow of her tattoos changed from bright green to a dark red, and her arms began convulsing like she was possessed.
“Jorem!” she cried out. “Jorem, I….arrgggh !”
When I reflexively lunged forward, Ayrael thrust out her sword.
“That’s close enough,” she warned. “I would rather not damage my mistress’s prize any more than absolutely necessary. I want her face and body intact when we hang her from the Castarium ramparts.”
“Ayrael, listen to me,” Kaseya pleaded. “We know the truth about Lysara and Zalheer. We know all about the Fount and its power. The Matriarch mistreated you.”
“‘Mistreated ?’” Ayrael hissed. “I was betrayed , sister. We all were! We still are!”
“Lysara will answer for her crimes,” Kaseya said. “So will everyone else who helped her conceal the truth. But you can’t seriously believe that destroying Nol Krovos is the answer.”
“You really don’t understand yet, do you? The Inquisitrix isn’t going to destroy Nol Krovos—she is going to save it. She is going to save us . The blood of the moshalim will spill across the island, and it will wash away the sins of the Matriarch and the Mosh’Dalar and every other monster who has lied to us for generations!”
“You are mad,” Hestiah hissed.
“And you are ignorant,” Ayrael snapped back. “But that’s all about to change. The purification has already begun. The true power of the Fount will be unleashed, and this world will be changed forever.”
A terrified knot twisted in the pit of my stomach as all my sneaking suspicions—all my nightmare scenarios—finally congealed into a single horrible realization.
“Escar’s mercy,” I breathed. “You weren’t the one I saw in that cavern. You weren’t the one attacking the Fount.”
Kaseya frowned. “Jorem?”
“Ayrael isn’t alone,” I said, struggling to swallow the rising lump of terror in my throat. “The Inquisitrix…she’s here too, isn’t she?”
Ayrael smiled. “Even if you kill me, you’re too late to stop the reckoning. Nol Krovos will be cleansed, and our abandoned sisters will have their vengeance.”
“I don’t understand,” Kaseya whispered. “How will collapsing the Three Corridors help anyone? How will it cleanse anything?”
“You will find out soon enough, sister. I promise.”
“Get to the Fount,” Valuri rasped, still paralyzed. The red glow of her tattoos seemed to be growing more intense by the second. “She’s just trying to stall us!”
“I’m not leaving you behind,” I insisted. “Not this time.”
Ayrael lifted her sword in a mock salute. “You have no idea how much I’ve longed for this moment, sister.”
“We shall take her together,” Hestiah said. “Just like back in Vorsalos.”
“No,” Kaseya said, shaking her head. “You need to get a message to the commanders on the shore. Tell them to send every warrior they can spare to the guard the Fount. Whatever the Matriarch brought with her won’t be enough.”
“But—”
“Go,” Kaseya insisted. “We’ll catch up with you soon.”
Hestiah paused for a moment, but her respect for her friend eventually outweighed her hatred of Ayrael. After tossing a final glance at both of us, she rushed back down the steps and disappeared into the city.
“The Tal’Shira sisters, reunited on Nol Krovos at last,” Ayrael sneered, twirling her weapon. “Come. Let us embrace destiny together.”
Kaseya charged before I could stop her. She flipped up onto the platform at the top of the stairs, somehow keeping her balance despite the slick, rain-covered stones. The ringing clash of their swords echoed off the walls of the smoldering temple, and sparks sprayed from the enchanted steel. Ayrael countered the assault with practiced ease, forcing Kaseya back onto the defensive almost immediately. But as they whirled back and forth, it quickly became apparent that they were more evenly matched than when I had first seen them duel back in Highwind. For all her strength and speed, Ayrael was no longer an invincible juggernaut; Kaseya had an answer for every thrust, every parry, and every feint. My previously untrained eye recognized several of the Dal’Rethi techniques from Zalheer’s stone. Her dizzying dance was the perfect embodiment of feminine power. Apparently she was an even faster learner than I thought…or perhaps the stone was an even more effective teacher.
Having already watched them duel twice before, I knew how easily I could become mesmerized by the fluid, deadly grace of their movements. But I had no intention of settling this with swordplay. Reaching out through the Aether, I focused on my bond with Kaseya and tried to identify the weaknesses in Ayrael’s defenses—
“No!” she yelled, leaping away from Kaseya and thrusting out her hand. Valuri shrieked again, and her body began convulsing as if she were being electrocuted. “No more cheating, sister. If you wish to face me, you will do so alone.”
Kaseya retreated a few steps before she glanced back over her shoulder. “I will handle her, Jorem.”
I forcibly dragged my eyes away from Valuri’s pained grimace. “You can’t be serious.”
“This is my fight,” Kaseya said, shifting to a two-handed grip on her sword. “It always has been.”
“Dammit, Red,” Valuri hissed through clenched teeth. “Don’t be stupid.”
“It’s not stupidity,” Ayrael replied, her lips curling into dark smile. “It’s amazonian honor.”
Val growled under her breath. “Same fucking thing.”
I shook my head and bit down on my lip. No matter how much Kaseya had closed the gap with her sister’s skill, in the long-term she was still no match for Ayrael’s Fount-enhanced strength and speed. I couldn’t let her do this, but I also couldn’t risk anything happening to Valuri. I needed another option…
And I found it resting upon the temple steps.
“You want to do this without magic? Fine.” I shuffled down the steps and retrieved a sword from one of the fallen amazon warriors. “But I’m not going to let you fight her alone.”
Kaseya and Valuri both looked at me like I had completely lost my mind. Ayrael looked at me like a little girl who had just opened her birthday present.
“You never told me your Maskari was a warrior,” she said, snickering as I awkwardly gripped the blade and stepped up onto the platform.
“He’s full of surprises,” Kaseya
muttered. I could feel her concern through our bond, but I did my best to send soothing thoughts in return. They were all bullshit, of course—I was fucking terrified. But apparently it was time to put the powers of that Dal’Rethi stone to the test.
“As one,” I said, standing shoulder to shoulder.
Kaseya smiled. “As one.”
We moved. It would have been a laughable exaggeration to claim that I knew what I was doing; I basically rushed forward and wobbled the sword in front of me in the hopes it would keep Ayrael from spearing me through the heart. The blade was a lot heavier than I’d imagined, and I was a lot less coordinated than I’d hoped. I had no right swinging a dinner fork, let alone a three-foot wedge of serrated steel.
But somehow I survived the first few seconds. Ayrael sensed my obvious weakness, and she slashed and thrust in my direction at every opportunity. I managed to parry or dodge her attacks, however, and each time I did so she left herself exposed. Kaseya scored a series of minor nicks, enough to draw thin lines of blood on Ayrael’s bicep and waist—at least until her Senosi regeneration kicked in.
Still, the fact that I had been useful at all was nothing short of miraculous, and it wasn’t until I had survived a few more attacks that I realized my feet and hands were acting almost completely independently of my body. I didn’t consciously know what I was doing, but somehow I was mimicking the maneuvers I had seen in the stone. I wasn’t fighting to win—I was fighting to protect and support my partner. I was fighting like I was a part of a team.
Mas’Kari.
The elven word echoed through my head as I lunged forward, piercing Ayrael’s armored skirt and drawing another line of blood. Flames were roaring out of the temple windows now, and the billowing curtains of black smoke had started burning my lungs. Yet somehow, I still felt more energized than ever before.