Feet wandered, weaving her in and out of the battles, away from the chaos. She moved through hallways and descended staircases, until she found herself in a hallway filled with color. Several windows had been shattered and the colorful glass crunched beneath her boots, the light in the room shifting and changing with each step.
She entered a large room with high ceilings. Just ahead, the doors had been sealed and barricaded. Kirheen ignored them, knowing it wasn’t where she needed to be. Instead, she turned to the right, coming to a stop before a towering set of double doors, the wood a deep crimson. A demon stared down from above, fangs bared, snarling in warning.
A voice from within, low and rumbling, filled her mind. “Answer the call,” it demanded. And she did.
CHAPTER 34
It was a strange feeling being an outsider. Lillana stood outside the castle walls, her eyes glued to the twisting spires rising high overhead. It had been her home, her refuge, for as long as she could remember. Things had been peaceful once. Safe.
Now she was the enemy, her home no longer the welcoming place it had once been. Newfound powers and her mother’s own madness had kicked her out of the nest. It was only by some miracle that she’d survived the fall.
She stood among the rebels; a strange mix of soldiers, Seekers, and cursed souls all prepared to fight for the same cause. A whirlwind of events had seen them thrown into the fire together. What would be forged after they fled the flames was yet to be seen.
Her eyes traveled up the wide, stone steps leading to the castle. At the top, a large group of soldiers stood with bated breath, their silver armor reflecting the sun. Both groups stood waiting and watching, not wanting to strike before the other. A cough or a sneeze would have been sufficient to set them off, the tension in the air so thick she was sure if she reached out, she would feel it against her fingertips.
Below her feet, the other rebels and Seekers wove through ancient tunnels, preparing to assault the castle from within. It was almost time. Something clattered to the ground, a heavy helm ringing against the stones from above. It triggered a chain reaction, a jumpy soldier springing to fling his spear into the crowd below. Shields were raised, both physical and mental, and she could feel the power radiating around her, brushing against her mind as it shot towards the enemy.
She was too inexperienced to join the fight, her powers too unwieldy. She was just as likely to injure herself as she was to injure her allies. Crouching near the back, she watched the battle unfold, wincing at every clash of swords, at every blast of light as powers were pulled from minds and turned into something physical and deadly.
It was all so overwhelming. Her mother had kept her from so much, had shielded her with careful proficiency. Death and the chaos of battle brought out emotions long buried. Her heart ached as she watched them fight, as she watched soldiers, her soldiers, fall in heaps of gleaming silver, so blinded by their loyalty that they’d chosen death rather than to side with the enemy. It could have easily been her trying to defend the castle, a puppet of her mother’s will.
The battle ended, the noise winnowing into eerie silence periodically broken by ragged breaths. Discarded weapons were picked up, tattered armor swapped for pieces still intact. The only thing left to do was enter the castle, to face her mother lurking within.
Inside, they let her take the lead. It was her realm after all. She’d grown up wandering down those halls, chasing her older brother while they shrieked and giggled. They walked down empty corridors and through gilded rooms bursting with finery. Eyes glanced hungrily, greed turning them gold. Despite it all, Lillana had never realized how devoid of life the castle was. There was a darkness hanging over it, clinging to the walls and floors, tainting the very air. When she had been a child, there had been laughter and beauty. Paranoia and fear hadn’t been a cloying fog drifting through every hall, not until her brother had died, his life blood spilled by her father’s own hand. Everything had changed after that.
Lillana stopped in a long, narrow hallway. Walls of dingy stone encroached on either side, a length of faded red carpet lining the hall. Ahead, a set of doors led into a side entrance to the throne room. A gargoyle, wings unfurled, stood watch above the doors, stony eyes casting judgement.
It was a place that had once seemed so enchanting as a child. She’d envisioned herself, grown and beautiful, gliding down that very hallway with an elegance surpassing her mothers. The doors had been thrown open, inviting her into a glimmering throne room, and she’d taken her rightful place on the throne, queen of everything.
Now she was to get her stupid wish, but it came with a heavy price. Beyond those doors, her mother would be waiting, a shriveled harpy intent on destroying everything and everyone. Where had things gone so wrong? When had Zekar turned his back, leaving them to rot in the dark?
Footsteps from behind drew her attention and they all turned, peering into the distance. A second group joined the first, their clothing bloodied from battles fought and won. Mirin, leader of the Seekers, approached with sure steps, head held high. She stopped next to Lillana, eyes darting towards the doors leading into the throne room.
“We took out any resistance that might hope to attack from behind. Our numbers have dwindled, thankfully out of fear and not death. Seems some of my party couldn’t handle the pressure,” the Seeker said dryly. “Are you ready for this, Princess?”
To her surprise, she was. Fear had fled along with her guilt. This was what needed to be done, what she had to do to make a better future for them all. No matter what it cost, she was ready to face the threat beyond those doors. “I’m ready,” she said, voice unwavering.
Mirin stepped to the door, her loyal Seekers crowding in around her. With a blast of power, she ripped the door from its hinges and launched inside. She slid to a halt, her advance abruptly cut short. She raised her hand, a muffled command bringing the others to a stop behind her.
Heads swiveled as Lillana crept towards the open doorway, expressions grim. Air buffeted her face, the draft carrying with it the smell of blood. Her pulse quickened, the beat of her heart drowning out all other sound.
Her mother sat in the middle of the room, her arms coated in scarlet. All around her, the corpses of her loyal soldiers were strewn about like discarded puppets. They had collapsed at odd angles, limbs twisted, mouths and eyes wide with fear.
“What have you done?” Lillana whispered, the words escaping in a shuddered breath. “What did you do?”
She looked so fragile, so broken. A too-thin face rose, sunken eyes meeting her gaze. “A sacrifice to Zekar,” she sighed. She raised her palms to the sky, looked to the blood dripping off her fingertips. “Will he be pleased enough to forgive me, to forgive the secrets I’ve kept? Will you forgive me, daughter? Can you?”
Lillana approached and Mirin shadowed her steps. “What are you saying? Mother, what did you do?”
“Their minds were weak, easy to corrupt. They sacrificed themselves so willingly. Zekar will be pleased. He’ll forgive me this corruption, this curse. He’ll forgive me the beasts I birthed into this world.”
It couldn’t be true. Her entire life she’d been raised to hate and fear, lashed and struck and beaten of all sympathy by the broken woman before her. Her own mother had demanded her brother’s death, had watched her husband end his life and had smiled. “No.”
“Am I a monster, daughter? My sweet, corrupted child.”
Her life was a series of flashes, a recollection of false memories and bitter emotions. She’d been lied to for so long, had caused so much pain and hurt and misery. And for what? The blood coursing through her veins had come from two, a power birthed from one alone. It had come from her mother, a lying, traitorous murderer. “You lied. M-mother, you…”
“Everything I have done has been for Zekar, has been for you. I turned my back on Riel, cursed her very name to save us. I did what I had to do to free us all from this curse, to save the world from it.”
“Stop!” Lillana shouted.
“That’s enough! Just…just stop talking.”
“Please forgive me, daughter,” she begged, bloody arms reaching out to embrace, to hold.
“No. Never.” Her power surged, tearing through a barrier of stone and rust and stars. She raged inside that mind, ripping through memories to find the flaws in her own. She scraped and tore, digging frantically to find the center. A darkness brushed against her palm and she grabbed it tightly, power grasping it with firm fingers. Anger squeezed those fingers shut, crushing the corruption held between them. Threads of conscious thought broke, snapping as she squeezed and squeezed.
When she returned to her body, she was on her knees, feet away from the woman she’d once worshipped, the woman she’d called her mother. Her eyes were vacant, empty, a broken doll without thoughts, without feelings. Emotions crept up like a wave and Lillana wept, her shattered heart spilling out all the hurt and pain of meaningless years.
An arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulled her close. “Lil, it’ll be okay,” Sampson whispered. “It’ll be all right. We’ll make this right.”
Despite the pain shattering heart and soul, she believed him.
CHAPTER 35
“Why did you not come get us sooner?” Barog barked, axe gripped tightly in his right hand. Garild couldn’t answer, didn’t want to admit that he’d been so frightened by what he’d seen that he’d been rooted in place, unable to move, or think, or feel. It was only after Samira had grown quiet, after her occasional updates had withered into silence, that he’d fled to get help. Now they stood around the door, each face pale and uneasy in the early morning light.
“That’s not going to help,” Trista snapped. “We’re here now. Let’s just get her out of there.”
Isa was at Garild’s side, her hand gripping his elbow. “How is this possible? Did you really see it? I don’t…I don’t want to believe it.”
“I don’t want to believe it either, but I know what I saw. It’s just as I imagined it would be.”
“We’ll see soon enough,” Rand said, pushing Ella behind him, keeping himself between her and the door that Barog was fast approaching. With a heavy swing, the axe bit into the door and he kept chipping away it, striking again and again, chunks of wood flying through the air as he worked. A strange smell wafted from the room the moment he broke through; mildew and rotting leaves and something that could not be named. Barog managed to get his arm through the opening and flung aside the board Samira had used to barricade herself inside. As the door swung wide, they all gasped.
Samira sat in the center of the room, her legs folded beneath her, hands gripping her knees tightly. Her eyes were shut, her brows furrowed, skin slick with sweat. The dark corruption had formed an almost perfect circle around her, as if she’d somehow managed to keep it bound so it couldn’t spread any further. It struggled, gathering around the edges of the invisible barrier as it fought to expand, to grow, to consume.
They entered the room cautiously, taking hesitant steps towards the prone Samira. The crystals on her chest were still dark, but he could see some of their light shining through. Barog waved his hand, demanding that they keep their distance.
“Samira,” Barog said, his voice reverberating off the high ceiling. The black ooze seemed to react to his voice, clambering against the edges of her shields. “Samira,” he called again, louder than before. It seemed to shock her out of whatever trance she’d been in and the barrier around her collapsed.
The corruption shot forward, swirling and churning as it sped towards them. Barog staggered back while Garild took his place. He focused his power on a need, on a barrier to keep the corruption at bay. He poured his power into his creation, forcing it into being, weak and wavering as it flickered to life. The Darkness smashed against the barrier and he felt it digging, trying to find a weak point, any small crack for it to slip through. Isa dashed to him, her power radiating out as she melded her energy with his, protecting his mind while he worked on strengthening the barrier.
“Hold steady, Garild,” she groaned, letting her power level out as he regained control of the barrier. It was becoming easier, the creation solidifying. Ella and Rand caught on, stepping forward to lend their strength. The barrier held firm, solid and formidable. There would be no breaking through, not with all of them helping.
Samira was on her feet, eyes focused on the Darkness gathering at the base of the barrier they’d conjured. Her gaze shifted and she looked to the people standing on the other side. She looked exhausted. “I told you to keep this door sealed,” she said angrily, glaring at Garild.
“And we didn’t listen,” Barog snapped, glaring back at her. “Like we were just going to leave you in there with that.”
“I am that,” Samira shouted. “That is coming from me.” Her voice broke, all the exhaustion and fear and pain breaking through to the surface.
Garild had seen it, her crystals as dark as the corruption writhing about in front of his feet. He’d seen it drip from her hands, seen it come squirming out of her skin. “Samira, is there anything we can do?” he asked.
She looked to him and sighed. “Maybe. I’ve been trying to draw it back, to trap it inside myself, but I feel weak. I don’t think I can do it alone.”
“Just tell us what you need. Just say the words.”
“If you can push it closer, force it back towards me and lend me power, I think I can lock it away, at least for a while.”
“And after that?”
“If I can keep it restrained, then I am getting off this island and tracking down whatever is causing this,” she snarled. “I will not endanger my people, Garild. I will not allow this corruption to take root; not here, not now. There is something happening across the sea, something that is calling to me. I don’t know what it is, but I intend to find out. It is no coincidence that this feeling is happening now.”
Had it been anyone else, Garild might have doubted her words, but she was something else. Her power was beyond the scope of their understanding, her place in the world not yet understood. He’d help her as best he could. To fail at that would be catastrophic. The Darkness would spread, consuming Sharmir and the entire world. Keeping the corruption contained in her was their only chance, if it would even work.
Ella was shaking her head. “You can’t really mean to leave. That’s madness. We don’t know enough about this. You could start a war by leaving, you understand? This could be the move that Taverin and Korinth have been waiting for. This could mean the end of peace for us.”
Garild growled, “This is the end of peace, can’t you see that? If something is causing this to happen, then our best chance at stopping it is to go to the source, war be damned. There is far more at stake here. We need to trust Samira, or we may all end up dead.”
Ella looked at him in disbelief. He hadn’t meant to be harsh, but they were running out of time. They needed to act or face the consequences. To her credit, she turned her eyes away from him and said nothing more. She must have realized the argument wasn’t worth having, not while that vile substance writhed at her feet, threatening to end everything she cared about. “Samira, just tell us what to do,” she said, finalizing her decision.
Samira was seated again, her eyes closed. “Keep that barrier strong and push it back towards me, as close as you can get it. Once you’re here, I’ll need one of you to slip into my mind and help me seal it inside. I’ll protect you as best I can, but I can’t make any guarantees.”
“I’ll do it,” Garild volunteered. “The rest of you just help me get this barrier moved.” He began to press forward and the others joined him, keeping the shield steady as they fought for every inch, the corruption fighting them with equal ferocity. It slid through their minds, frantically searching for a way to push back, to gain the ground that it was steadily losing.
As they got closer to Samira, it began to lose power as she drew it back into herself. The corruption slithered across her skin, coalescing on the crystals. The crystals flashed, a radiant light that
cut through the gloom. They were close enough for him to slip into her mind. “Isa, take over the barrier. Just remember what we practiced. Focus on keeping it steady.”
“I will. Please be careful in there. Come back, okay?”
He nodded and released the barrier, letting Isa take over. There was a moment of panic as he watched the barrier flicker, but they were able to save it, the three of them intensely focused on the task they’d been set to.
Garild turned his attention to Samira, let his powers drift towards her mind. Before the corruption, the wall of her mind would have been considered a thing of beauty. Giant crystals shot into the sky, a thousand colors reflected in their surface. They were marred however, their surface tainted by the corruption, a spreading disease that coated the ground and climbed up the surface of the crystals like ivy.
Beyond the crystal wall, the forests of Sharmir rose tall and untouched, green and vibrant. He could feel her essence within, fragile and near breaking. “Samira, I’m here. Tell me what to do.”
“Help me draw it in.”
Part of the crystal wall collapsed, allowing him access to her mind. He could sense where she struggled and he followed twisting paths through the jungle, the Darkness nipping at his heels. He found her in the center of a clearing, eyes bright with determination. The corruption covered her skin, clinging to her in splotchy black patches.
The corruption that had followed him moved in lazy circles at the outskirts of the clearing, watching and waiting. He could feel Samira working, pulling the corruption into herself, but her progress was slow and her strength was failing. He opened his power to her, let it flood the clearing with threads of blue light. They danced along the ground, herding the corruption closer and closer.
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