But death did not come.
There was a crackling of energy in the air, that static embrace right before lighting strikes. A blood-curdling scream tore through the room, reverberated off the walls. Sampson steeled his mind and his body as best he could as a wave of power blasted through the room. There came the sound of shattering glass and a collective thump as the soldiers around him fell to the ground in unison, blades clattering against the floor as they dropped. Something wet and warm dripped off his chin and he raised his hand to his face, his fingers coming away wet with his own blood.
Across the room, Lillana huddled on the floor, her hair in disarray and her trembling arms wrapped tightly around herself. She stared at the floor, her eyes vacant. Agna had been flung back down the hall and she howled in fury as she struggled to get back to her feet.
Lillana was one of them, one of the cursed. Had she always had powers? Had he overlooked some change within her? Perhaps the chaos of what had just happened had triggered it, had brought those powers bursting into reality. He tried to move, to get to his feet so he could help her, to calm her and hold together that fragile sense of identity shattering before him. The wound in his leg had bit deep and he stumbled as he tried to stand, collapsing in the circle of dead soldiers.
Agna was on her feet, stumbling down the hall towards Lillana. She was all bristling anger, her stark white face stained with blood. “My daughter….my…..daughter. You lying traitorous wench. How could you do this to me? How could do this? You’ve betrayed Zekar. You will burn for this, Lillana. You will burn!”
Lillana shuddered to life, looked back over her shoulder in fear. She began to crawl across the ground towards Sampson, sobbing as she stared at the circle of dead soldiers. Her mother was gaining on her in eager, hateful steps, her screaming filling the room as she shouted obscenities at her child. Her hand lashed out and she grabbed Lillana by the hair, yanking her onto her back. She struck with her fist again and again and Sampson could do nothing but watch, his chest a roaring beast of anger and regret. There was a blur of black robes to his right and then Mirin was there, yanking the old woman back.
“That is enough,” she growled. She motioned for the other Seekers to approach and they leapt into action, restraining Agna. The queen thrashed and kicked and spat, flinging bloody spittle across the floor.
“Don’t you lay a hand on me, you fiends. You’re all traitors. I’ll have your blood. I’ll have all of it!”
Mirin shook her head, put herself between Lillana and the queen. Her voice was soothing and calm, carefully restrained unlike the powers she expertly wielded against Agna. “My queen, you aren’t thinking straight. Let me take these traitors away from here. We shall deal with them accordingly. We are still your humble servants.”
Agna spat at her feet, her body trembling. “Get them out of my sight. I want them publicly executed in the Scarlet Square. Let it be known my daughter was a failure, an embodiment of Riel come to steal my power. Make her suffer.”
“As you will,” Mirin said, her voice low and dangerous. She glanced up as more soldiers stepped into the hall, their eyes wide with terror as they looked at what lie beyond. “We have this under control,” she explained as they turned suspicious glances her way. Many of them looked towards Sampson with a weary glance, eyeing the dead soldiers surrounding him. “Take your queen to safety.”
The Seekers released Agna, remaining as a buffer between the queen and the princess. The soldiers grabbed the queen, quickly enveloped her in their ranks. Spears leveled, they backed out of the room, their eyes never leaving the masked Seekers as they fled. Mirin knelt down, uttered words to Lillana that he could not hear.
The world was growing cold, the blood loss finally catching up to him. The room spun in swirls of gray and red and he collapsed, unable to bear his own weight. “I’m sorry, Lillana,” he whispered, hoping somehow she might hear.
CHAPTER 29
The light from the candle was warm and radiant, filling the small room with a gentle scent. Kirheen had sat herself as far away from it as possible, the thought of being anywhere near the flame making her panic. The smell of smoke and death still clung to her clothes. There would be no amount of bathing that could erase that smell from her memory. She trembled, her hands clasped tightly around a vial of medicine she had yet to take.
Her legs throbbed where the flames had kissed her skin. Much longer and the damage would have been so much worse. She’d been lucky. They both had. The rebels, her friends, had saved them and not a moment too soon. They’d sacrificed much to stop the execution and she was thankful there were no casualties. She wasn’t sure she could survive anymore guilt if there had been.
Tomias rested on the bed before her, his breathing labored. His final words rippled through her, filled her with a strength she couldn’t conjure on her own. She reached out towards him with her power, tried to navigate her way through the broken, jagged landscape of his mind.
His walls were shattered, leaving his mind open to her. It was like stepping into a nightmare. She stood in a forest of glowing trees, only this time, great vines twisted around them, burst from the ground around her feet. Ravens cawed from the trees, smoke curling through the branches. This was not the mind she knew. It had been corrupted, damaged in such a way that she doubted her own ability to fix it. It was dangerous to try and far too easy to get lost in such a place. She’d experienced it once after Herzin had attacked her. She’d been dead to the world, lost in her own mind. Tomias had saved her then, had risked his life to bring her back.
She’d do the same for him, even if it meant losing herself in the process.
She crept forward, crushing blue leaves beneath her boots. She was wearing the customary robes of Sanctuary, her silver sash glowing bright against the dark fabric. The birds above cawed angrily at her approach, their beady, glowing eyes following her as she navigated the forest. It wasn’t their eyes she felt at her back. There was something else, something more sinister, watching from afar. She peered over her shoulder but there was nothing there, just wisps of smoke and birds and thorns.
The deeper she went, the more corrupted the forest became. The trees twisted unnaturally, while others lay broken and splintered on the ground. Some were covered in a familiar black corruption that glistened on the trees like wet blood. The air smelled foul, like damp earth and spoiled meat. A whisper came from the forest, the voice low and vaguely familiar. The words were lost to her, lost to the sound of the leaves beneath her feet and the violent cawing of the ravens above.
The words came to her again a moment later, louder than before. “Death for one, death for both,” the voice growled. There was a figure up ahead, someone in black robes, their face hidden in shadows. She approached wearily, feeling for her own power in that devastated place. It curled towards her happily, ready to be used, to be freed after so much confinement.
The figure lifted their head and she gasped. Long white hair hung limp and lifeless, eyes black pools of filth and rot. His lips were cracked and bloody, his skin dreadfully pale. It wasn’t Tomias standing before her. It was his brother, Fenir, the man that had nearly killed her, that had died by his brothers own hand. Once a friend and a mentor, he was a ghost that clung to life, a revenant that wouldn’t go away.
“Death for one, death for both,” he said again. His voice was like tar, gurgling out of his throat with each rasping breath. He staggered towards her, his hood falling back away from his face. He smiled at her and it looked so unnatural, so demented, that she shivered.
“What have you done to him? What have you done to Tomias?”
“It was you. You, you, you. You corrupted him, made him feel. In the end it was you he chose. Death for his brother but not for you. Never for you.”
Kirheen grimaced. “It wasn’t a choice. He did what he felt was right and he has regretted that moment ever since. He loved you. You were his world.”
“And now he loves you. Now you are his world. I wonder if you are deserving o
f such a thing.”
“That’s not for you to decide,” she said, her voice calm and steady.
“It is,” he growled, drawing closer. Kirheen readied herself, unshackled the powers that yearned to be free. It burst to life within her, filling her veins and spreading warmth all the way to her toes. She rooted herself firmly in place, prepared to face him. There was a time when she’d let the vision of him scare her, a time when it had haunted not just Tomias’ dreams, but hers as well. She’d wake from nightmares, shivering and fearful, her wounds pulsating in the dark. She still bore the scars, would always bear them, but she wouldn’t let it control her. His hold over them would end. It had to.
A blade appeared in his right hand, clenched with blackened fingers. Fenir lunged forward, scattering glowing leaves into the air with the speed of his movement. Kirheen was prepared and she leapt aside, narrowly missing the spectral blade that sought her blood. She retaliated, flinging a wave of energy towards him. A spectral shield blocked her attack, the energy dispersed with a casual wave of his arm. He was an excellent blocker and an even better attacker. He was brute force and anger, and while it was his greatest strength, it was also a weakness to be exploited.
“Do you fear death, Kir?” he cooed, pacing around her, a predator on the hunt. She kept herself turned towards him, ready for anything. “Do you fear the eternal dark?”
“I’ll find out when it comes for me,” she sneered. She dashed forward, striking another blow towards his feet. He leapt back out of the blast, thrown off enough that he didn’t see her rushing through the plume of ethereal smoke left in the wake of the attack. She lowered her shoulder, slamming into him with all the force she could muster.
The dagger tumbled out of his hands as he staggered backwards and fell, a flurry of robes and leaves as they rolled down an embankment together. They came to rest in a ravine, Fenir mere feet away. Ignoring her aching shoulder, Kirheen shot to her feet. Her enemy swayed, laughing maniacally as he brushed glowing leaves off his robes. There were cracks running over his skin, tiny fissures that reminded her of water deprived earth.
“How will it feel when his mind destroys you? You’re a fool. A liar. You’ll bleed his heart dry, little queen of thorns. You’ll bleed it dry and take and take until there is nothing left. I won’t allow it.”
His words made her wince, stabbing through her calm façade like a finely honed blade. There was a part of her, some small whimpering thing, that wondered if it was true. She’d brought him so much pain, however unintentional, and now his feelings were involved. Her feelings were involved, however conflicted they made her feel. They existed, a gently glowing ember inside of her. She protected that ember, hid it behind a wall of ice, but it couldn’t be ignored. It was there, had always been there. There would be no suffering, no pain for him. Whatever Tomias thought of her, whatever dark part of him feared the power she wielded over his emotions, she would not see such a future come to light. She would not become a creature of thorns. She would become the rose.
“Are you afraid to face the truth, Kir? Your withered heart will only hurt and corrupt.”
“Enough.” she shouted. “You know nothing of me. You know nothing of anything. You’re a phantom, a fading memory. The only one hurting and corrupting his mind is you. Leave him.”
Fenir growled. Where the fissures had appeared in his skin, darkness poured out, dribbling down the side of his neck, dripping off his chin. He smiled, his teeth slick with corruption. He launched forward and she did the same, prepared to match him blow for blow. There was an explosion of sound behind her, a whip crack in the air as something came free of the earth and coiled around her legs. Vines, dark as obsidian, wrapped around her legs, puncturing through her clothes and skin with their dagger sharp thorns.
She gasped, tried to keep a firm hold on his mind. Her power was slipping, forced back by the pain as thorn after thorn found purchase in her skin. It was coiling around her, working its way up her torso, around her arms. A thorn punctured through her breast, sharp point seeking her heart. She could feel poison leaking into her veins, pumping burning corruption into every part of her body.
“His mind serves me,” Fenir said, walking towards her with slow steps. One of the vines around her leg coiled tighter and she felt the sharp snap of her bone breaking. The sound reverberated through her whole body, carrying the pain with it. She screamed, scrambling to stay in his mind, to stay long enough to save Tomias. If she were forced out, there would be no way of helping him. He’d be lost forever, a husk without emotions, without thoughts. “I’ll wipe you from his memory. Every thought, every whisper of your name will be struck from his head.”
He was looming over her, the stench of him a noxious cloud taken in with every breath. He reached out a hand, touching her face gently with skeletal fingers. “He won’t even remember you existed.” Another dagger appeared and this time there was no stopping it from finding its mark. He would plunge it into her neck, just as Tomias had done to him. He raised the dagger high, his smile widening as it descended.
She squeezed her eyes shut, sought that burning ember within. She drew her power towards it, feeding it with every bit of strength she had left. It grew brighter and brighter, a roaring inferno hurling itself at the wall she’d built around it. The ice cracked, a great cacophony of sound as it shattered. She let that inferno feed her powers, let it grow until she could no longer hold it in. Her power exploded outwards, tearing through flesh and vines and forest. Fenir was devoured in that light, his essence shattering. The trees shook, the ravens taking flight, cawing in alarm.
Leaves fell around her like snow glimmering in the dark. She looked around the decimated grove and spotted what she’d been after. Too hurt to walk, she crawled across the ground, fingers digging into the dirt. Her leg protested with each lurch, but she ignored the pain and focused on what rested in the grove ahead. Her arms were shaking by the time she reached Tomias.
He lay in a bed of glowing leaves, eyes closed. Reaching forward, she gently touched his face, so peaceful as he slumbered. She traced the line of his jaw, brushed a thumb over his bottom lip. He was still broken, his mind jagged and scarred. There was so little of her power left. Exhaustion like she’d never known swept over her, threatening to break her connection to his mind.
She could feel them, each piece of fragmented thoughts and memories. She reached towards one, drew it towards him. Piece by piece, she restored his mind, smoothing out the edges, fitting it back together just as it had been before. Nothing could be lost, nothing could be changed, not without changing who he was, who he’d been before.
Only a final shard remained. Withdrawing from his mind, she used the last fragment to seal his mind, to make it whole. She checked it once, twice. Satisfied, she allowed herself to slip back into her own body. When she opened her eyes to reality, her vision swam. It felt like she’d been asleep for years, living in some hazy dream world that had refused to let her go.
Her limbs were heavy, the phantom hurt of the thorns and broken bone throbbing beneath her skin. There was also the very real pain of the burns that danced around her ankles and up her legs. Despite her exhaustion and pain, she lurched towards Tomias. His breathing was no longer strained, his face as peaceful as it had been in his mind. His outward appearance should have brought her some measure of peace, but her heart beat frantically in her chest. There was no way to know who she’d meet until he woke. What if he didn’t remember her? What if she’d messed up and he wasn’t the Tomias she’d grown to care for, to love?
She was so overwhelmed by her emotions, so exhausted from her trials. Her hands covered her face and she let herself weep, great wracking sobs that shook her down to her core. She almost didn’t hear his voice, a soft whisper in the dark. “Kir,” he whispered. “Is that you?”
“Y-yes,” she choked, raising her head to look at him. “Yes, it’s me. A-are you…are you okay?” He blinked several times, as if seeing the world for the first time. He drew himself up with
a grunt, wincing as he did.
“I feel whole. I feel…” He was reorienting himself to his own memories, the pieces of his mind solidifying. “Kir, we’re alive? We made it out?”
“We did. A few old friends got us out just in time. What happened to you?” She got to her feet and sat on the bed next to him. Her hand found his and he gripped it tightly.
“I don’t know. It’s in there somewhere. Buried. One day I might find out but not now. I can’t…” He winced again, straining to remember.
“Don’t. It’s not worth it. Just rest.”
But he couldn’t rest. He was focused, digging through his own memories, putting them all back in place. Some memory caused his features to shift and change. His face softened, his eyes swimming in the candlelight. He met her gaze, his mouth opening and closing several times before he asked, “What did I say to you - before the flames? What did I say?”
Tears sprang to life. She gasped out a breath, tried to formulate the words. “Y-you said… you said you loved me.”
His eyes never left hers. “And did you believe it?”
“Yes.”
“Do you believe it now?”
She could only nod her head, her body trembling too badly to form the words. He reached forward, pulled her gently towards him. His face was inches from hers and his hand traveled up her spine, clutched the back of her neck. He drew her closer, his lips crashing against hers. She lost herself in that moment, in that softness and warmth. Heat filled her belly, blossomed in her chest.
It was different than her time with Ian, slower. His hands were gentle as they roamed, his lips caressing her cheeks and her neck, taking away the hurt and the pain of what they’d been through. She gave herself to his touch, let her barriers collapse. Her mind was open, and she allowed him in, to see and feel and hear every beat of her heart, the blood singing in her veins. She let herself be one with him, clinging to every breath and sigh and touch.
The Allseer Trilogy Page 58