The Arcane War

by Tam Chronin

  Byrek set the book aside and held the girl by the shoulders, bending slightly to look into her eyes. "Who is gone? Who do you want me to tell?"

  "It's her brother," she was nearly in tears. "Naran. He was sitting outside. I saw him. They took him, just now. Please, tell Mistress Tennival. She—"

  He didn't wait to hear the rest of what the girl had to say. He didn't pause even to think. "Go in there. Interrupt the damn meeting. Tell Aral I'm going to go save him, and she needs to stay here."

  It had to be Nalia.

  They'd been warned that she was trying to put an end to this.

  That she wanted revenge.

  Holding Naran hostage for Aral's surrender would probably do it.

  And maybe, if he were thinking like a god, so would taking the sacrifice so long overdue.

  Byrek didn't bother with preparations.

  He'd been trained by gods to hunt gods.

  To spy for them.

  To spy on them.

  To end them, if need be.

  He, alone, could stop this plot.

  Aral, and the rebellion, could not afford the distraction.

  Aral was furious when Mirren burst through the doors. She had just been a first-year student at the university when it had been destroyed. What business did she have, interrupting this meeting?

  "What's the meaning of this?" Aral roared.

  They'd taken so many steps to keep faerie spies out that Aral's first thought was they'd been compromised. The fear she felt twisted into anger immediately. She'd given orders that they not be interrupted except under dire circumstance.

  "Mi-Mistress Tennival." The girl prostrated herself on the floor at Aral's feet. "Master Arsat told me to interrupt. He's gone."

  "Byrek is gone?"

  "Your brother." Mirren flinched. "Master Arsat went to save him. To save your brother. He was taken. Master Arsat said you must stay here."

  What?

  He expected her to stay here, when Naran had been snatched?

  After so many years of not being able to help? Of not even seeing him? Of wondering if he was still alive?

  She was a heartbeat from running out the door to catch up with them, but reason prevailed.

  There was nothing she could do to save Naran that Byrek couldn't do better.

  Aral clenched her fists. Swallowed.

  Bowed her head.

  Stayed.

  "Tell me everything." Aral knelt beside Mirren, lifting her shoulders. "Every detail you know."

  Any mage candidate needed to possess a powerful memory to be accepted into the University Magica. Mirren lived up to that, and more. From scents to clothes to the faint hum in the air just minutes before.

  "The man who grabbed Naran had an unsettling aura about him," she said at one point. "I looked into his eyes and had the feeling of being watched by someone unseen."

  "A high priest," Aral said. "Go on."

  She took in every detail Mirren said, steadying herself, when a sound like thunder tore through the room.

  Davri was the first to react. "That was close," he said.

  Mirren was shaking her head. "There's been no hint of a storm all day," she was saying as another boom echoed around them, rattling the door in its frame.

  Aral could feel magic in the air, and it was building once again.

  "Sound the alarms!" Deeg was wrapping himself in layers of clothes to protect himself from the sun as he shouted orders. "Get out into the fields and scatter! Spells ready! We do this now!"

  At the same time Raev barreled into the room. "We need to draw them away. Bretav is in labor. This cannot be the epicenter."

  Mirren looked pale, but she turned to him. "I can help. I can get her to safety."

  "How?" he demanded.

  "An amulet my mother gave me," she said. "It should hide us and protect us long enough to get us out of town, at least."

  "Go then," he said to her. "Thank you."

  "It's too soon. Isn't it?" Aral felt torn in three directions. Bretav's baby wasn't due for another month. Maybe more. They would need magic to help the baby live.

  But, she needed to find Naran.

  But, they'd been attacked.

  Raev was nodding, looking near panic.

  "Aral," Davri's voice was firm. "We don't have time for these distractions. That's all they are. You know what you need to do."

  That's all it took for her to regain her sense of perspective. She turned to Thera. "We need to evacuate the town of any non-combatants who stayed after our warning yesterday. If they don't leave now, they fight. The priests are here, but the gods are not yet."

  Thera nodded and rushed out the door, giving her own orders as she went.

  "We'll fight them back," Aral said to all who were left. "We're ready for this."

  "We just have to follow the plan," Davri agreed. "We let them fight. We save our strength for the real battle."

  Aral nodded.

  They just had to survive the day.

  Chapter Sixteen –

  Vengeance

  In the burning shades of twilight it didn't look as bad.

  Krecek balled his hands into fists.

  A significant number of houses in Hodarian's bay were still standing. As the shadows grew, one could almost miss the rubble in the streets. One could almost ignore a slumping roof here or there where a wall had been partially knocked down.

  It was almost dark enough that the scorch marks here and there simply blended into the night.

  One thing could not be ignored.

  The gaping crater where Raev's home and shop had been.

  The collapse of the entire underground complex they'd hidden in.

  Krecek trembled, seeing it again.

  Remembering.

  He'd barely escaped.

  Davri had healed Krecek within an inch of his life just after the bombing had started. They'd scrambled toward the stairs, Krecek barely able to stand yet. He'd told Davri to just go on, he'd catch up.

  The next thing he knew they were both huddled on the stairs.

  The door above them was closed.

  Krecek was struck dumb, wondering why the world was bright as day.

  Davri had shouted something.

  But for a frighteningly long time, neither could hear.

  The burning twilight couldn't erase that memory.

  "Your tent is ready for you."

  It was jarring, being snapped out of the memory. "Thank you," he told the young man.

  It was only fair. He and Keevan had blown up the temples.

  The gods had simply done the same to the home of their enemies.

  He was reduced to one tattered, blood stained robe, once again.

  And nowhere to call home.

  Again.

  He followed the young man to his tent, slipped inside, belatedly realized he didn't even know the person who had showed him where to go, told him it was ready.

  It didn't matter now.

  A basin had been set up in one corner of the tent so he could wash. Someone had managed to find him new clothes. Plain clothes, not mage robes, but it would do.

  As soon as Krecek and Davri had emerged from the rubble, they'd been surrounded by battle. Krecek was all but useless, weak as a newborn, and with no magic. Davri had stayed by his side, protecting him as well as fighting.

  The rebellion had pushed back the priests over the course of the day. It was hard earned, considering the sneak attack, but they'd managed it.

  The illusions and trickery from both sides had been spectacularly devastating in some cases. The battle in Anogrin had been more of a riot by disorganized rabble.

  This...this was all out war. Everyone was a combatant.

  Everyone but Krecek.

  The dwarves had been digging pitfalls and tunnels into the landscape for weeks. The advantage quickly turned to those who knew the terrain and had trained there.

  Right now, there were pits of broken bodies, filled with those who, as Krecek once had, believed
in and followed the gods.

  He couldn't help but think he'd escaped that fate by sheer luck.

  All Krecek wanted was to sleep now. He'd survived. Davri had kept him alive.

  Couldn't that be all that mattered this day?

  The crackle of the campfire outside his tent was soothing.

  He just wanted to forget all he'd seen that day.

  Instead…

  "Are you finished in there?"

  It was Aral.

  Despite himself, his heart skipped a beat.

  "Come in," he said, opening the tent flap for her.

  "It's a chilly night," she said as she walked in, rubbing her arms for effect. "I washed as quickly as I could. That water was so cold."

  She wore a dress. The fit was loose, hanging on her like a child playing dress up. The skirt was short, coming to mid-calf, and the sleeves ended just past her elbow. Neither in a way that looked like deliberate fashion choices.

  They'd given her clothes from a short, fat woman. But they were clean.

  And, despite the poor fit, she was regal. Commanding.

  Beautiful.

  "They managed to make up a soft bed," he said with a gesture. "I could keep you warm."

  Stilted. Awkward. Stupid.

  With a line like that to woo girls, it was a wonder he didn't have to beat them off with a stick.

  Aral stood still. The tent was dark now, and he couldn't see her expression.

  His imagination filled in a few possibilities, of course. None of them flattering.

  Finally, finally, she nodded. She took his hand, and they sat beside each other.

  It wasn't much of a bed, to be honest. A bit of padding. Thick blankets that barely smelled of smoke.

  His hands stalled a moment as he reached for her.

  This was impossible.

  Within his mind played every instance of rejection she'd dealt him, large or small. He couldn't force himself to move.

  She circled her arms around him and leaned in close. "Forgive me," Aral whispered in his ear.

  Krecek closed his eyes. He took a deep breath and held her close against him, breathing in the scent of her.

  She felt exactly how he had always thought she would. Soft and strong and warm. She melted against him, laying down and pulling him down with her. Beside her at first, bodies barely touching along the length of them. She rolled so that she was on top of him, a breath away from the kiss he'd longed for all these years. It was a dream come true for him, even if the situation was nightmarish.

  "It will all be over soon," he whispered in return.

  "Don’t think like that." She propped herself up and looked him in the eyes. He felt that unnerving sensation of her being doubled, or of being watched, that he’d felt before. "Think of how you love me. How you want me. How I mean more to you than anyone else. It’s true, isn’t it?"

  "It is," he said as he ran his fingers through her silken hair. He kissed her neck, let his hands wander over her body.

  She kissed him, and it was...painful.

  No, he shoved that thought aside, thinking only of how much he'd wanted this moment.

  The curves of her body beneath her dress. Small breasts, flat stomach. Flared hips. Aral was beautiful. He thought only of that. Only of his desire. Of the love he'd had for her that survived the years. His love hadn't just survived the eclipse of Nalia's attentions, but in the end surpassed it.

  She disengaged from the kiss and let out a breathy moan. "Here," she said, grabbing his hand. She guided his fingers to the juncture of her legs.

  So warm.

  So soft.

  It was enough to make him hope that this wouldn't work.

  That he could just keep going, never stop—

  Aral yelped in sudden pain.

  "That is more than enough of that!" Nalia appeared, standing over them both. She yanked Aral away by the hair. "I've shared enough with you."

  Aral tried to fight loose, but Nalia pulled tighter, lifting Aral to her toes.

  Nalia then turned her attention to Krecek. "You’re doing this just to hurt me! I can hear it in your thoughts! Why?"

  Krecek got to his feet. "Why?" He stared at her, defiant, daring her to hurt him more. "After what you did to me, you can ask me why? You almost killed me!"

  Nalia tossed Aral aside and stepped right up to Krecek. "I didn't kill you because I'm merciful. Don't test the limits of my mercy. I can hurt you even more once you're dead."

  "I lived because Baedrogan spared me," Krecek said coldly.

  Aral rose to her feet behind Nalia. "Baedrogan would stop you." She was glowing with power. "He'd never allow you to keep hurting any of us, or anyone, after death. I know your sons better than you do, and I’ve only known them a scant handful of years. Don’t you know why he brought death? To make sure that everything, especially suffering, would have an end."

  "I'm more powerful than my sons. I—" Nalia paused, leaning toward Aral to look at her closer. "Oh. I see what you've done. You slut. Did you sleep with them both?" She paused a moment, then sneered. "No, just the weak one, Agruet. Oh, I can’t wait until I see him again. He will suffer for—"

  "You’re calling me a slut?" Aral gaped. Her expression was a mixture of surprise and indignation. "Should I start with a list from the annals of mythology? Or stick to more recent events?"

  Nalia looked mildly amused. "You want to keep playing games with me? Exchange a few insults? See who can hurt who the most?"

  An image of Naran, tied, chained, and gagged, appeared in the air before them.

  He was crying.

  Alone.

  Unharmed, so far.

  Krecek relaxed.

  "We can play games," Nalia said. "For every insult you throw in my direction, your brother gets whipped. How many is that so far?"

  "He's still alive," Aral breathed the words. "We can still save him."

  "You'll never get him back," Nalia said. With a wave of her hand the image was gone.

  There was a flash of light and a rush of sound an instant later.

  Aral turned to Krecek. "I want to go get him."

  "No," he said. "We have to trust Byrek. We'll be down by two of our best mages if you leave now."

  "YOU'LL NEVER SEE HIM AGAIN!" Nalia shrieked. "I—" The goddess stopped. Confused.

  "We’re done with you." Aral said, expression emotionless.

  Krecek shook his head, turned, and held open the tent flap. "What took you so long? She could have killed us at any point. You know that, right?"

  "Relax," Davri said as he walked in. "Byrek sends love, kisses, and I just told him exactly where Naran is. I set up a trace. Why have a bargaining chip, if you're not going to bargain? I was just waiting for her to tip her hand."

  Nalia struggled against unseen bonds. "What did you do?" She held her arms outstretched and pushed, to no avail. "What are you doing to me?"

  "The same thing we’re going to do to the rest of the gods, once they arrive to rescue you. If you can gather them all here, they might be able to save you." Aral grinned wickedly. "Or, they might fall into our trap and die like you will."

  "Gods can’t die!" She pounded her fists against empty air. Each thrust was slower, weaker than the last.

  "According to Baedrogan, you can. I'll take his word over yours."

  "I tried to warn you," Krecek walked over to Nalia.

  The barrier only stopped her. Not anyone else.

  He touched her cheek, looked into her eyes.

  This was it. The last time he would see her.

  "I tried to stop this," he said with the last of his goodwill toward her. "You wouldn’t listen to a mere mortal like me. You were too convinced of your superiority to entertain the possibility that there could be forces beyond your ability to stop."

  "Free me, Krecek." Nalia lowered herself to her knees before him, looking up at him with wide, frightened eyes. In her own twisted way, there was love for him there. Too late. “I’ll return your power. I’ll give you everything
. I'll make that girl your slave." She bent lower and pressed her forehead to his feet. "I'll give her to you as a present, wrapped up in a bow. Just love me again. Free me. Don’t let me die."

  Krecek took a deep breath.

  She could do it.

  Would do it.

  He knew she would.

  He forced himself to take a step back.

  "Without my power, I can't free you. With my power, I would kill you myself."

  He walked out of the tent, covering his ears to block out whatever else she might say.

  Her words followed him across the length of the camp, but he never looked back.

  He just sat and waited for the other gods to arrive.

  For Nalia to finally die.

  "It was fated, you know," Davri said once he was alone in the tent with Nalia. "Hello, grandmother. We finally meet."

  "Mortal." Nalia sat back on her heels. Sneered. "How dare you address me as such?"

  All hint of vulnerability had left as soon as Krecek was removed from her view. Now, she was a caged animal.

  Davri tilted his head to the side, thinking as he watched her. Nalia was a pitiable figure. She still thought she would survive this. Would get her revenge.

  "My great-great-grandmother was Agruet's child," he told her, voice calm and even. And, well, why wouldn't it be? She'd be long dead before she could win her way free. He was using her own power against her to fortify this trap. "The rest of my family may have lived in awe or terror, but I never have. I've seen the future, and you're not in it. The world will go on without you."

  "I created this world." Nalia frowned. "I had a hand in creating all life upon it. I shape everything touched by magic. There is no world without me in it."

  "It's not something to take pride in." Davri took a step closer. "You created suffering. You created greed and injustice. You created people who see those things and know they are evil and wrong. We will fight against that."

  Nalia stopped moving. Stopped struggling. "You fight against yourselves. When I get free, I will destroy you for your hubris. You think we did this to mortals? Mortals did this to us. You will have a tighter leash when this is over."

  "Threats and posturing!" Davri threw his head back and laughed. "Do you even know what monsters you are? You have instilled in us a knowledge of right and wrong. You have given us the ability to learn and to think and to grow. I have learned that what you do and what you encourage are wrong. I think the world would be better without you and your ilk ruling it. We have grown beyond the need of you, and we will grow greater without you."