The Fulk’han army rushed straight into it. The circle grew, gaping open like a mouth that devoured hundreds and hundreds of them in one large bite. Two hundred yards away, Guldrich and a purple woman stood on top of their champion. Her arms were held out as if ready for a big hug, and dark clouds hovered around her hands.
“Zyn’ight! Kill the beast!” Andec commanded.
Without hesitation, the wielders attacked. Black bolts flew from Nikkola’s hands. A beam of incandescent light shot from Jackson’s mouth. A large rock rushed toward their target, closely followed by a dozen more. All their spells were sucked into the portal like debris in a whirlpool. It was as if their magic was for show.
“Everyone to me,” Andec said. “I’m porting us out there!”
The zyn’ight, Captain Kyle, and a dozen soldiers moved in close as he cast his own portal. His stomach dropped with his feet. It was like missing a step. His heart skipped painfully, and they landed behind Guldrich and Lurp.
Guldrich whipped about. “Go, now!”
The creature leaped into the Fulk’han portal. It closed behind them, slicing several Fulk’han in half. Their screams were cut short as the dark whirlpool disappeared.
Enurthen
Dallow had never really been given the chance to finish the transition to blindness, thanks to the constant state of emergency they lived in. But, maybe it was his reluctance to believe there wasn’t the hope of regrowing eyes burned away by dragonfire. Angst had died and come back many times; what was growing a couple of new eyes compared to that? His unwillingness to give in also meant that he avoided his own potential. He’d read that the blind experienced things in such a different way. When sight was lost, other senses took over. Taste, smell, touch, and sound all tried to fill in the blanks left behind by the void of color and image. On a rare occasion, Dallow would be teased by these extra senses, experience something more, like a hint of things to come. Right now, he was overwhelmed by the tangy scent of copper.
“Rose?” he asked.
No answer, but it wouldn’t be the first time she’d teased him with silence, sneaking up on him with a kiss or a caress on his face. It was always intoxicating, and his heart skipped at the thought of her finding him in his darkness. She wouldn’t do more until his marriage was over, and it would be over when all this was done, but he didn’t need more right now. His senses were always on high when Rose was near, and the experience couldn’t have been more intimate.
Dallow wished the memndus stone pressed against his temple worked inside. He would’ve loved to see her lurking about, and thought fondly of that curvy figure covered in smooth, pale skin. Her large, dark eyes were probably inches away, looking at him, and all he could do was trust.
Nothing. He listened close, forcing his hearing to reach beyond the confines of his thoughts. Breathing, shallow breathing from the far side of the room. Maybe she was sleeping, and he could sneak up on her for once. The very thought of a blind man sneaking up on someone in their own room made him smile mischievously. Dallow inched forward carefully until his feet bumped into a heavy mass of something.
Rose had only been in this home for a week, but he’d been here twice and didn’t recall any obstacles. His nostrils flared at the scent of copper once again, and the husky breathing came closer.
“Rose, this isn’t funny,” he said, kneeling down and patting the lump.
Cloth. Warmth. An arm. A body. Whose body? His hands grasped leather leggings, reached up a tiny torso, felt thin arms like sticks until finding a face. He’d touched that face countless times with its strong jaw and kissable lips. Rose. It had to be. Her chin was damp. He felt along her throat which was warm and wet, bubbling out hot blood. Her body began to jolt and shudder.
“No!” he cried, shaking her. “Rose, no!”
“I won’t leave this city,” Alloria said, her voice distant and damaged.
“Please no,” Dallow said. “What did you do?”
“I was told I’d rule all Unsel if I killed her, and you,” she said, her voice shaky. “The elements told me so.”
“You...you killed Rose?” he asked in disbelief. His hands were covered in her warm blood; they were shaking uncontrollably. “All so you can rule?”
“No,” she said. “I don’t want to rule.”
“Then why?” he asked. Rose’s body convulsed violently. Dallow reached deep down inside, past layers of worry and panic, seeking a healing spell that would be enough.
“The elements can’t come in here. They can’t enter Enurthen,” she said. “This is the only place I’m safe, and you can’t make me leave!”
Dallow heard Alloria circling him as he found the spell. He couldn’t imagine how much damage had been done to Rose, tried not to think about it as he placed his hands on her wet neck.
“You want to leave, all of you,” she said, her eyes wild. “But why would anyone leave paradise? You think this half of a foci can release you? It won’t. I won’t let it!”
There was something in what Alloria had said. Something about the word Enurthen. He’d seen it so many times in so many texts, but dismissed it as gibberish. It had to be the key. It had to be the code that unlocked the older Acratic, the Ughcratic.
“I know what needs to be done,” Dallow said. “I know how what I need to do so we can get free!”
His cry was silent as pain seared through his chest. Something inside felt cold, and his heart rushed to compensate. He let go of Rose and grasped the triangular blade that had been thrust through his midsection. His own blood covered the blade now wrapped in his hands, and that was fascinating. She jerked it back, and Dallow fell to his side. His breathing slowed, and his heart stopped its race.
“I won’t let them kill me! The elements can’t get me in this place,” Alloria said. “So I will never leave!”
Unsel
The first day Mika had taken his turn as guard for his cousin, Victoria, the guards watched his every move as if he were planning to steal her away. He’d spent that day absorbed by her. Even near death, she was so very lovely. Memories of her kindness filled his chest with pain and his eyes with tears. His princess appeared in dire pain, and how could she not be? Her tiny blood-soaked hands clutched the end of the triangular dagger Alloria had shoved through her chest. It filled him with hurt, and a deeply buried fury.
In their youth, Victoria had always been reserved until the day he’d brushed her cheek. She’d grabbed his hand and held it there, staring on at him and finally saying, “You will have a choice: to be a killer or a protector. If you try, in time, you can be a hero, Mika.” These words had haunted him for years. He remembered them from his dreams, could hear them whispered in his mind. When he’d discovered she could wield, that she could see a person’s future, he’d known what had to happen. She stared out from her prison, right at him, her eyes begging to be set free. He could hear her whisper. “It’s time to be a hero.”
Mika did not like people and wanted nothing more than to stay away from them, all of them, except Victoria. His father had taught him how to interact, to feign courtesy even when he felt nothing. The guards assigned to the hall ate up his attentions. A funny, embarrassing story from royalty went a long way with soldiers. After several days of guard duty, they relaxed their watchful eyes, even going as far as wishing him luck. Who didn’t want to help their future queen?
Today, he would not be distracted by her lovely eyes. Instead, he would listen to her whispers, begging him to save her, to free her. Today, he would listen to the other voice, that of the man who’d saved him from a fiery death. That tall man certainly had to be Time himself. And that man wanted her free.
Mika placed a shaky hand on the shield separating the princess’s chamber from the hallway. There was a red spark, and the palm of his hand numbed. The giant sword glowed red inside the doorway. Not a guardian, but rather a jailer barring his access. He concentrated. This wasn’t really a shield. It was time, a wall of time. Mika had a relationship with time that allowed him
certain...privileges. It wasn’t easy—time was very demanding and required gifts—but ever since his rebirth through flames, he could do more than he’d thought possible.
He focused his will on the soldiers. They stopped shifting in their armor, staring off into nothing, frozen like Tori. It would require concentration to keep them in place while breaking through this time wall, but she needed saving.
Mika pressed his remaining will against the barrier. It was unmoving. He tried reaching through it slowly. Nothing. He begged it to set her free. It didn’t reply. Mika kicked at it until he heard a toe crack. He hopped up and down, wailing in pain. Fortunately, the soldiers remained still. It was so infuriating he felt like killing them, but she wouldn’t approve of that. How could he save Victoria from this trap?
He dropped to his knees, beating against the shield with the base of his fists. He could only see red through his fury and collapsed, slapping the wall with the palm of his hand.
Tink.
A flash of red.
Was it the sword? His hand hurt, and he shook the soreness from it. He struck the wall with his other palm, but nothing happened. He looked down and was struck with realization. The ring! The tall ageless man who’d kept him alive was helping him even now. What a friend that man was, to make him the hero who freed the princess.
Mika turned the ruby ring around so the stone fit in the palm of his hand. He reached back with all his might and smacked his hand against the time wall.
Tink.
A flash of red.
A drop of Victoria’s blood fell to the floor.
39
Rohjek
Maarja’s wail was deafening, and for a moment, Angst feared for his life. She shook with rage, her eyes glazed over as if sense and reason had been entirely washed away. She moaned between breaths, looking around in jerky motions. The pain she was unable to contain needed an outlet, fast.
The fireball had cleared a path. The tribesmen who hadn’t been able to scatter fast enough were either gone or smoking remains. Those who’d lived were a Nordruaut’s stone throw away. They huddled in a group, holding their wooden staffs with a knife attached to both ends, like that could possibly protect them from the end of all things.
Almost reluctantly, Angst jerked his head toward the mass of frightened men. It was enough. Maarja leaped into the air, so high Angst was surprised she hadn’t sprouted wings of light. In a single bound, she reached the Vex’steppe tribesmen, landing so hard that several fell. Maarja didn’t tear them in half or punch them into the ground like Angst had expected; she picked two men up and began swinging them like weapons.
Angst winced, swallowing hard at the grotesque sounds of skulls smacking together and bones crunching. Bodies flew away like arrows loosed from a bow. When her weapons were too limp and broken, she tossed them aside and grabbed two more. It was a berserker rage far beyond anything Angst had seen or experienced, and it made his heart ache for Maarja. She was too lost in her fury to even let the tribesmen run away, chasing them down, all the while screaming her pain. She killed everyone nearby until there was nothing left but a broken, bloody pile. Maarja dropped to her knees and sobbed. He didn’t want to be next, but wouldn’t be any sort of friend if he didn’t go to her.
“Angst,” Aerella said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “There’s something you need to know about Jintorich.”
“I know,” he said sadly. “I know he’s dead. And even worse, he’s the last Meldusian.”
“No,” she began. “Something else.”
“Tell me later,” Angst said. “Right now, Maarja needs me, and... Oh no.”
A whirlwind of flame grew behind the few remaining tribesmen, who scrambled off to nowhere. The flames quickly formed into the shape of a burning man the size of a mountain. Raw heat cooked Angst’s face. Fear gripped his heart and tried punching it through his chest. The remnants of bravado and victory washed away completely in a torrent of hopelessness. Faeoris returned to his side, as did Scar and Kala. Maarja lumbered over, her arms covered in others’ blood. She wept uncontrollably, dropping to her hands and knees beside Jintorich’s body. Faeoris immediately went to console her. Kala remained on Scar’s back, but sobbed at the realization that their friend was gone.
Fire didn’t attack, but instead seemed to revel in their pain. The fear reached from Angst's heart, crept up his spine, and danced around his head. What could the element possibly be planning? Last time they’d fought, Angst had lost. Fire had thrown a sun at his friends. They’d only survived because Earth had sacrificed herself while he buried them alive for protection. He may have wielded two foci, more or less, but he wasn’t Earth, and sacrificing himself would mean all would be lost. One friend was already dead. How could he possibly keep the rest of his companions safe from an element this powerful?
“I’m not ready for this,” he said under his breath.
“Not ready? I thought you were one of us, Angst?” Fire said, his voice low and resonating with power.
“He wasn’t supposed to hear that,” Angst whispered.
“I did.” Fire laughed, but the laughter wasn’t contagious. “Aren’t you the element Human?”
“Am I?” he replied, not really feeling it.
Angst looked at Jintorich, and wanted to weep, but there was something else. It was like tasting something bitter that shouldn’t have been in your mouth. A taste that made Angst’s jaw set. Jintorich hadn’t deserved to die, Marissa hadn’t deserved to die...none of them did. His swords agreed, clashing in his head with a rage of music that made no sense. It really didn’t matter how tired he was, or how old, or even how frightened. He was pissed. Angst raised his hand and spread his fingers.
“Maybe I am! Let me count down how many of you I’ve gotten rid of. Earth, Air, Water...didn’t she usually win? Magic, mostly. Hmm, who’s left?” His middle finger was the only one left standing, and he raised it high in the air.
“Oh, Angst,” Aerella said, sounding defeated.
“Yes!” Faeoris said.
Fire shouted curses, giving Angst enough time to hoist Chryslaenor and create an air shield. The barrage of fireballs that struck the shield was relentless. He winced at each blast, feeling the strain deep in his muscles. It didn’t just take will to defend; it required physical strength and mental focus. It was as if Fire wasn’t just blasting them with flame but with pure hate. His shield became stronger. Aerella’s hand glowed yellow, and there was something else. Kala was grunting as she emulated their spell.
The element roared like a volcano. Plumes of black and gray smoke shot up from the being. Angst set his right foot back to brace himself and stretched out his arms. Blast after blast struck their shield, the sound deafening.
“I can’t...” Kala said, falling from Scar and landing in Maarja’s arms.
The shield weakened by a third. Angst couldn’t believe how much the kid had helped reinforce it. It was almost as if she’d been channeling his foci again.
“Angst,” Aerella said, her voice strained. “I don’t have much more either.”
“Weakening already, element human?” Fire mocked. His flames burned brighter, and the element leaned in with both arms stretched toward them. “You’re not one of us!”
The barrage of fireballs became a steady blast of red flames, and Aerella collapsed. The element roared in anger, but Fire hadn’t seen Angst’s fury yet. He thought of their prior battle, when Fire had thrown a sun on his friends. He thought of the element war, and the victims of Rohjek, who were dead or food for Fire’s dragons. Angst thought of his princess, slowly dying. And poor Jintorich lying on the ground. He wasn’t ready to die. He deserved to know his daughter’s name! He may not have been ready for this fight, but he had enough angry and bitter to fuel his shield and more.
The lightning began as a few sparks, crackling like tiny fireworks, and growing until it forked all around him. He held it in close until his arms shook, until his teeth rattled, until he glowed like a distant star. A stream of fire
slammed against his air shield, and he released it. The lightning struck out as a single thread that wrapped around the pillar of fire, splitting and splitting again until it was a blue mesh of power forming around the flame like a barrel. Angst willed the lightning surrounding the torrent to close, squeezing until there was more lightning than fire and it shrank to a trickle. He then pushed with all his might. This wasn’t a fight of fire versus lightning; this was a battle of will. He struck out with the lightning, and Fire was thrown from his feet.
“I can do this!” Angst said.
“Angst, we should run...” Aerella began.
He ignored her, attacking Fire with bolts of lightning. He pulled blast after blast down from the sky. Fire stood but backed away, holding his arms out defensively, his dark shadowy eyes wide with surprise.
“You’ve hurt my friends!” Crash. “You’ve destroyed a nation!” Crash. “You aren’t welcome here anymore!” The wild anger in his mind fueled his power as he continued his onslaught. The element became smaller than a mountain, smaller than a graymowl tree, and smaller yet as the attack continued.
“No!” Fire shouted. “You can’t do this! You aren’t an element!”
“I am!” Angst growled. He squeezed his eyes shut, reaching deep into himself, and found something. It was power like nothing he’d ever wielded, so raw he couldn’t fathom it. It was the trickle that becomes a river, the cloud that forms a devastating tornado, and it was inside him. This great power was frightening, and maddening, and exactly what he needed, no matter the cost. Opening his eyes, the moment before cutting loose, he saw it. A mere flash in the corner of his eye made him glance up. And there it was, high above: the sun. A sun. A star. Something enormous coming closer, getting larger, and racing toward them. Fear scared his newfound source of power away, and he choked out a tiny, “no.”
“No Earth to protect you this time, little human!” Fire shouted. “More companions destroyed by your folly. You’re no element. You’re nothing. Die!”
Angst Box Set 2 Page 29