The Allseer Trilogy

by Kaitlyn Rouhier

  Garild muttered a curse. Isa was right. If they didn’t get her calmed down, she’d break through his walls and there was no telling what such a power would do to their minds if that happened. “Hetra, please calm down,” he pleaded. “You’re going to hurt us and I don’t think you want that.”

  “I can save you from it. Save you from the screams. I’ll protect you. I am a guardian,” Hetra cried, her sobs growing louder. The ground was starting to split apart, a deep rumbling shaking the earth beneath his feet. The trees blinked out one by one, exploding into nothing but glowing dust. The pain intensified, tendrils breaking through cracks in his wall, striking the outskirts of his mind like hundreds of tiny daggers.

  Isa collapsed, her teeth bared as she struggled to help contain the threat. If her power slipped, it was over. He wasn’t about to let her pay for his stupidity. He would push her from his mind before that power could consume them both. He’d save her, even if it cost him his own life. Hetra’s power would swarm his mind in seconds, would rip and tear and destroy. Even if he managed to survive, he’d be a shell of a man, an empty husk, but at least Isa would live.

  To save her, it was a sacrifice he was willing to make. She’d been through that once before. He wasn’t about to let it happen to her again. Bracing himself for the pain that would follow, he shoved her out of his mind, closing the gap before she could comprehend what he’d done.

  The pain was overwhelming, wracking through his being like a great, raging inferno. The trees turned into blinding white flames, the heat of them ripping through bone and muscle. Some deep part of him raged against the threat, fought for life with every scrap of power he still possessed. It wouldn’t be much longer. He could feel his walls collapsing, toppled and consumed. He wasn’t going to let her take him down easy. If she wanted to break his mind, she was going to have to fight for it.

  Something cut through the pain, drenching the burning fire under calm, gentle waves. A song sprung to life in his chest, filling him with strength and repairing his walls. The air shimmered next to him, a great blur of energy as someone materialized.

  Samira appeared next to him, a great maelstrom of anger and power. The crystals in her chest were alive, radiating a blinding light as she strode past him. There was none of the sass he’d come to expect from her. She was sheer focus and determination, a force more terrifying than the one he’d just been assaulted by. She stopped in front of Hetra, barely fazed by the ancient stone attempting to tear his world apart. There was no longer any doubt in his mind why people feared her, no longer any doubt how deep her well of power went.

  She raised a hand, calm and steady. “Hetra, stop this now,” she growled. Her hand snapped into a fist and Hetra screamed, doubling over as she fought for control. He could feel her power waning, collapsing under Samira’s might.

  “I must protect… I must help,” Hetra moaned, writhing on the ground. She was breaking apart, slowly fading from his mind. Slithering tendrils began to snap one by one, and with each break, he could feel the weight in his mind dissipate.

  “You’ve protected no one,” Samira said, her voice cold as ice. With a great blast of power, she shoved Hetra out of his mind. She made one last attempt to cling to his mind and failed. She was too weak, her powers spent.

  Samira whirled on him. “Get back to your body. Now. We need to talk.”

  Garild winced but obeyed her command. He slipped back into reality, surprised to find himself staring up at Isa. She hovered over him, her face awash in amber light. Her luminous eyes swam with concern, her lips parted. She squealed when he tried to move and collapsed against his chest, her voice strained as she said, “I thought you died.”

  “I’m okay, Isa. I’m all right,” he said, trying to sit up despite the weight of her holding him down. She helped him to his feet, holding him as he wobbled on unsteady legs. Samira was silent, surveying the glowing stone in the center of the room. There was a great rumbling from within the earth and then the amber glow grew impossibly bright. There was a cracking noise, the splitting of stone by some great hammer. Samira flung herself around, throwing her arms towards the sky and forming a shield around them as the stone exploded, flinging shrapnel to every corner of the room. He could hear it whizz past them, tiny arrows of death that surely would have killed them if not for the shield.

  When it sounded safe, she dropped the shield and formed a little ball of light in her outstretched palm. Her face was livid, her eyes drilling holes straight through him. Before he could react, she grabbed him by the back of his neck and dragged him out the door, flinging him to the ground in the blinding sun. He landed roughly, unable to stop his collision without his hand. White hot pain shot through his shoulder, joining the myriad of aches awakening in his body.

  “Gods, what was that, Garild?” Samira shouted, pacing around him.

  “It wasn’t his fault,” Isa scolded, dropping to her knees next to him. She sat him up and wrapped an arm around him protectively. “He didn’t do anything wrong!”

  Samira laughed in disbelief. “A completely docile and valuable magical entity just attacked you for no reason? What did you show her, you fool? Let me see.”

  Garild glared at Samira. “Fine. Here, look all you want.” He opened his mind to her, drew forth the very memory that he’d shown Hetra. His mind rebelled against the action, his head thudding miserably. Samira watched the memory, her eyes glazed over. They focused on him when she finished, her expression one of bewilderment. “What?” he asked.

  “I don’t understand. Why would that upset her? She knows about the others. Why would she do this?” She sighed, her brow furrowed. “I’m sorry. If I had known she even had the potential to be so dangerous, I would have never sent you here. I wouldn’t have let you get close.”

  Garild shook his head. “You couldn’t have known. If I had even an inkling of the power she’d use against me, I wouldn’t have left myself so vulnerable. It was a mistake. I’m honestly more troubled by what she reacted to.” She had been talking about the Darkness, had spoken about it as if she’d experienced it in the past. It had been the sight of what he’d feared that had broken her, and the thing he’d feared in that cave had been the corruption he’d been raised to fight against. If an ancient power had recollection of such a thing... He took a deep breath before letting the question slip from his lips. “Samira, you know of the lie told to keep us locked in Sanctuary, right? The one about the corruption outside the walls.”

  She nodded. “Yes. Some terrible plague had killed off all of mankind and you were raised to fight it. There are hundreds of stories like that. People have been coming up with creative ways for the world to end for as long as anyone can remember. It’s a pastime, a way to give a cohesive ending to a rather pointless existence. Or a way to keep an entire group of people trapped in a valley to satiate your own madness.”

  “I don’t know. The memory I showed her… that is what set her off. In that cave, when I started seeing the corruption creep up my arm, she grew frightened and angry. Maybe she thought I was trying to trick her, trying to get her to relive some event from her past. I think she was protecting herself from it as though it were real.”

  Isa looked at him as if he were crazed. “The Darkness was a story, a lie. How would she know anything about it? Her mind was a mess. Nobody knows how long she’s been like that or how much her sanity had deteriorated over time. Maybe she was confused. It doesn’t change the fact that it wasn’t real. It was a story made up by Nyson to frighten us.”

  Garild gritted his teeth. “You heard what she was saying. Did it not sound like she was talking about it? Maybe she was confused. Maybe what she witnessed long ago was similar to the story Nyson force fed us to keep us in Sanctuary. I can’t exactly find out now. It doesn’t change the fact that there is a possibility of such a thing existing and that frightens me more than anything.”

  Isa had gone ashen, her eyes drifting to the ground. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “We’ve been through a lo
t today. It might be best if we got some rest.”

  “I second that,” Samira said. “I need to do some thinking. When you’re feeling better, I’d like to hear the entirety of the conversation you had with Hetra, but I won’t ask that of you now. Not after what you just went through.”

  He wanted to argue, to try and get them to understand what Hetra had been trying to say, but his eyelids were growing heavy, the pounding in his head escalating beyond what he could tolerate. He needed food and sleep and, more importantly, he needed to stop thinking the dire thoughts running through his head. Isa helped him to his feet, keeping her arm wrapped around him to hold him steady.

  “Samira,” he said. “Thank you for coming. I hate to think what state our minds would be in right now if you hadn’t.”

  She gave him a sad smile. “It shouldn’t have happened at all, but you’re welcome. I know a shortcut back to Trista. I will show you the way and lend you what strength I can so you can make it there.”

  “That shouldn’t be a problem,” he mumbled, but as they started walking he could feel his limbs growing heavier and heavier, a useless weight he was forced to drag around. A song swelled in his heart, lulling him to a faraway place. He let himself be carried, let it lead his mind away from the ache in his bones, the steady throbbing in his head. When he collapsed back into reality, it was utter exhaustion that greeted him. He could barely remember his head hitting a pillow, or who had tucked the blanket around his shoulders.

  He did remember the dreams. The nightmares. A great serpent bared its crystalline fangs, dripping corruption onto the surface of the world. Its scales were as dark as a moonless sky, and they sparkled, thousands of tiny stars igniting that perfect black. It slithered, coiling itself tighter and tighter around the world. Mountains trembled, the seas rose higher and higher, threatening to consume everything. Those crystal fangs sank deep into the flesh of the world, injecting it with poison, spreading it throughout the lands.

  It took everything, corrupted it all. It spread across the world, an endless night. And at the center of it all, he stood untouched, watching his friends fall before the darkness. He could only watch it happen, could only listen to their cries for help…

  … And do nothing.

  CHAPTER 21

  Tomias lurched back into consciousness, his head feeling like a murky pool of sludge. He was lying on his stomach, his cheek pressed against cold, damp stone. He groaned as he rolled onto his back, the throbbing in his temples intensifying. He took a deep breath and immediately regretted it. The air was thick with a foul odor, a strange mix of dirt and decay and blood. His surroundings were unknowable, details lost to the dark. There was a faint flicker of light from far away, the gentle glow of a torch. Had something happened? He couldn’t think straight, couldn’t remember. Trying to recall what had happened was like looking through a foggy mirror, the events clouded and out of focus.

  There had been an attack. Chaos. He could feel the shadows creeping out of his mind, the light of awareness illuminating the memories hidden in the dark. He was starting to remember. There had been an earth shattering sound, a great explosion that had sent smoke and stone shooting into the sky. Rebels? It had all happened so fast. A thought struck him as he surveyed the cell, a bolt of lightning shooting straight through his chest, stopping his heart. He scrambled to his feet, ignoring the nausea that set his stomach to churning.

  “Kirheen?!”

  There was no answer. He could see better now, his eyes adjusting to the dim light. He was standing in a small, square room. Three of the walls were rough stone, dark and slick with moisture. The other wall was a crisscrossing of metal bars. A prison cell. He’d been a prisoner before back in Sanctuary. He’d been shackled by fear, kept from the outside world with harrowing tales of a decimated land. Now, he was a prisoner in a much more physical sense. While his mind was free, his body was not, and knowing that he was stuck in a box made him uneasy. He could feel the frantic pacing of his heart, feel the cloying film of dirt and sweat covering his body. Everything seemed to be shrinking, drawing close and squeezing the fight right out of him.

  He crept towards the bars separating him from the corridor beyond and peered out into the hallway. There were more cells just like the one he was in. The one across from him housed a woman and child. They sat huddled in a corner, wide-eyed and terrified. Her son was curled against her side and she stroked his hair, humming to him softly. When Tomias approached the bars, she looked at him with a fearful glance, her arm wrapping tighter around her son. Did he look like someone to be feared?

  “Kirheen?” he called once more, trying to see further down the corridor. He was greeted by silence. He’d seen her disappear, pulled into the crowd and swallowed. She’d looked so afraid, so vulnerable in that moment, and he’d been entirely powerless to stop it. He was powerless still. How was he supposed to find her in such a place? He was trapped, at the mercy of his captors. There was a very distinct possibility he’d never see her again. The pain that came with the thought of that being the last time he’d ever see her struck with a surprising ferocity. It ripped through straight to his heart, locking it in a painful grip and squeezing until he thought it might burst. “Damn it,” he growled, gripping the bars of his cage, fists clenching tighter and tighter until he could imagine the metal being crushed beneath his aching fingers.

  He wanted to tear them away, to rip through the city brick by brick until he found her. His only option was to try and escape, to do everything in his power to free himself so he could find the only thing that mattered to him in the city. He could hear footsteps at the far end of the corridor, the sound reverberating down the hall. He took a deep breath and focused, preparing himself. It had been months. He’d buried his powers under grief and fear but he could still feel it deep within. It churned excitedly as he reached for his power and coaxed it to life. It filled his being, nurturing his battered body and reinforcing his mind, knitting together his focus until he had but one single goal in mind. Escape.

  A Seeker appeared in the corridor, strolling casually as he peered from cell to cell, inspecting the prisoners. Tomias didn’t hesitate. There was no longer room for hesitation, for fear. He weaved his power towards his target, pulling him into an illusion with a subtly that hadn’t been lost to him despite the time that had passed. It worked.

  Tomias was sprawled in the corner of his cell, his face a patchwork of bruises painted on a too-pale canvas. He coughed again and again, spraying bloody spittle into the air with each violent expulsion of his lungs. “Help,” he croaked, hoping the guard would hear.

  The Seeker looked over, stopped dead in his tracks, and muttered a curse under his breath. There was the rattle of keys as he fished them out of his robes, the sound of the lock being turned. The door of his cell protested loudly as it was yanked open and then Tomias dropped the illusion. The Seeker didn’t have time to react to the fist flying towards him. It connected with the side of his head and he dropped like a heavy stone.

  Tomias yanked the keys away from the Seeker and stepped into the corridor. He thought briefly about releasing the mother and her child across the way, but the fearful look she was giving him was answer enough. There wasn’t time and there was no longer any hiding what he was. He staggered down the hall towards the only door in sight. He could see light through the small window at the top. This is it. Freedom.

  He fumbled with the mess of keys, nearly dropping them before he settled on a heavy iron key that looked to be about the right size. He unlocked the door in a hurry, readied himself for an intense burst of speed, and flung the door open. He stopped short, a figure blocking the way. It was a Seeker, one he’d have recognized anywhere. There was nothing to do but gape in surprise as he met her storm cloud eyes. The woman launched forward, her hand going straight for his throat. Her fingers dug in tight and then she lifted him off his feet and flung him back down the hallway with strength that wasn’t at all natural.

  He landed on his back, colliding with t
he stone floor hard enough to knock the wind out of him. He struggled to bring himself upright, his ribs protesting. He couldn’t match her physically. There was no way, not in the shape he was in. Instead, he went straight to the basics and hit her mind with a ferocity his brother would have approved of.

  It was like hitting a solid brick wall at a steady run. His own power was deflected, petering out before it had a chance to do much of anything. In the time it took him to realize it, the woman had crossed the room. Her boot collided with his face, sending bolts of pain through every inch of his skull. His vision blurred, the taste of blood coating his tongue.

  “That’s quite enough,” the woman said calmly. She bent down, grabbed him by his shirt, and proceeded to drag him down the length of the hall. She tugged him along as if he were just a piece of cloth and not a fully grown man. “I’ve questions for you, Tomias.”

  How does she know my name? He began to struggle and she pulled him to his feet with ease, shoving him towards a set of spiraling stairs leading down into the dark. Something about that staircase filled him with fear and he hurled himself backwards, bringing his elbow up towards her face. She side stepped easily, spun around him and punched him in the stomach. He crumpled to his knees, his arms wrapped around his torso as he tried not to throw up. “Who the hell are you?” he gasped, glaring up at her.

  “Shut up and move.” She pulled him to his feet once more and this time, he didn’t fight her. He took the stairs with slow, pained movements. He was starting to feel it all, the accumulation of injuries big and small. It was all catching up to him, wearing through him. The adrenaline from his failed escape attempt was leaving him, trickling away and leaving exhaustion in its place.

  The stairs dumped out into a simple square room with dirt floors, dimly lit by a few braziers on the walls. There was a large furnace against the back wall, adding additional light and heat to what would have been a bitterly cold room. There were other things in the room, things Tomias wanted desperately to block out; a wooden table stained with blood, a chair with straps, various metal instruments hanging from the walls.