The Allseer Trilogy

by Kaitlyn Rouhier

  “I need more. I’m so sorry, Garild.”

  He screamed as his power was ripped from him, Samira devouring the energy in order to save them. His mind railed against the empty void where his power had been. There was so little left, just enough to keep him alive, a trickle of energy barely sustaining his being.

  “Please forgive me. Just a little bit longer.”

  The Darkness shrank into Samira, absorbed into her skin. The crystals in her chest turned terribly dark, devoid of light, but the corruption was trapped, unable to free itself from the prison she’d locked it in. With a shove, she forced Garild out of her mind.

  He fell back into his own mind, a mind rapidly falling apart without the energy to support it. He drew on his power, what little remained, and tried to patch his walls but they collapsed in a shower of blue sparks, winking out section by section. If his walls fell, if his power ran out, there would be no stopping what would follow. His mind was slipping, his thoughts tumbling into the darkness.

  “Garild, don’t you dare,” Isa said. There was a vibrant streak of yellow light in the dark and then she was there, her power radiating out in waves. Together they worked, patching the walls of his crumbling mind, her power filling him with strength. Saved from toppling over the edge of madness, he trailed Isa out of his mind.

  When he opened his eyes, he found himself staring up at a swarm of concerned faces. Isa was closest of all, her face inches from his, piercing blue eyes staring into the depths of his soul. “Garild?” she whispered, her breath tickling his face.

  She helped him sit up, the sudden movement sending pain shooting across his forehead. He winced, still reeling from his brush with death. “I’m alive, right?”

  Isa smiled brightly and for the most fleeting moment, her lips pressed against his, soft and gentle and warm. She blushed profusely as she pulled away, nervously tucking her hair behind her ears. “I’m glad you’re okay,” she whispered, but she averted her gaze, unable to look at him. He was still in a state of shock as she helped him to his feet and turned him to face Samira.

  She stood in the center of the room, her expression guarded. She smiled sadly as she looked him over. “I didn’t think today would start with me almost killing you. Garild, I’m sorry.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t apologize. I knew what I was getting myself into.” He looked to the crystals protruding from her chest, their gentle glow snuffed out by the corruption she’d absorbed back into her body. “Are you okay? Did we stop it?”

  “For now. This feels right, like that is where it is meant to be, but we’ll need to stay vigilant and make sure it doesn’t break free again. There is too much we don’t know.”

  “Then we need to find the answers,” Garild said. “You said you have an idea of where this is coming from?”

  “A feeling,” she said, raising a hand to the crystals. “Something is happening across the sea. I can sense it, a darkness growing in Taverin. I think it caused this.”

  “Please don’t tell me you’re planning on going there,” Barog pleaded. “You know the dangers of that place. It would not end well.”

  Samira looked almost guilty as she glanced to Barog. “What choice do I have? Staying here puts everyone in danger, puts the history of the world in danger. I don’t know what I’ll find there, but I have to go. This cannot be just a coincidence.”

  Barog clenched his teeth, his jaw rigid. “And just how do you expect to get there, hm? This is madness you speak of. We don’t know enough!”

  “And when has danger or the unknown ever stopped you?” Samira challenged, taking a step towards him.

  “Don’t ask me to do this,” Barog groaned. “Don’t you dare.”

  Trista nodded. “I agree with him, unfortunately. As he said, we don’t know enough about what we just saw, about what it means.”

  Samira grimaced. “We don’t have the time to figure this out. We either get moving and find out what is causing this or risk this happening again. And next time, we might not be able to stop it. Barog, I can’t stress the importance of this enough. We need to go.”

  “And I know how much you like gold,” Garild added quickly before he could protest.

  Barog glanced between them, his face falling. A low growl erupted from his chest and he shook his head. “Damn you both.”

  Trista pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed loudly. “Well, so much for a peaceful break in Sharmir.”

  Garild smiled sadly. “I’m sorry, Trista, Isa. I’ve dragged you all through so much already, but I agree with Samira. None of this is a coincidence, and if something is happening back home, we need to find out what it is and if we can stop it.” He looked to Rand and Ella, standing shoulder to shoulder, hands clasped. “What of you two?”

  Rand was somber as he said, “With Samira gone, Sharmir will be exposed. This would be the perfect opportunity for our enemies to strike. Are you certain about this feeling, Samira? Are you certain this is what needs to be?”

  “I am, friend,” she replied. “I trust you two to keep this place safe in my absence. I do not plan to be away long, but if anyone dares strike at this place, they will answer to me. I promise you that.”

  “Just stay safe, all of you,” Ella said sadly, glancing to each of them in turn.

  “Then it is settled,” Samira said. “We leave for Taverin come morning. Barog, make sure your men are ready.”

  “Damn it,” he spat. He gave Samira a final glare before turning on his heels and trudging out of sight.

  Garild pondered the strangeness of it all. He’d fled Taverin hoping to find answers, and now he was sailing back across the sea to do the same. He’d seen a nightmare become a reality, a lie become a terrible truth. If any of them survived the events to come, they’d have a very interesting tale to tell.

  CHAPTER 36

  The song in her head had grown into something monstrous and terrifying, rattling every nerve and jarring her senses. She imagined it was the demon singing to her, the intricately carved head glaring down from above. It loomed over her, slanted eyes and ferocious fangs ready to feast.

  There was something beyond and below, something calling to her, luring her to a fate yet unknown. Her chest burned, a great fire feeding off of her every breath, her every drop of fear. She raised her hand, pressed it again the solid wood. It resisted, locked tight against the need growing within her.

  There was a voice calling her name, searching for her just as she searched for it. She pressed her other hand to the doors, let her power spread across the surface. An energy from within the door roared back, fighting against her. Kirheen struggled against it, pulling from her well of power, a well that seemed to be growing deeper. The loud crack of splintering wood filled the air. Whatever magical ward they’d used to keep people out was shattering beneath her fingertips. Just a little more and she’d be through.

  A noise buzzed behind her like a bee, a familiar voice battling for her attention. “Kirheen!” Arms wrapped around her shoulders, pulled her away from the door, igniting a fury within like she’d never known. She fought against Tomias, vicious and angry, tearing with her nails despite the pain it caused.

  “Let me go. Let me go. I need to find it. I need to see.”

  Tomias released her with a sharp intake of breath, no longer able to hold tight without further damage to his already bleeding arms. He staggered away from her, eyes wide. “Kir, what is wrong with you? What is going on?” She could feel him creeping into her mind, testing her. The song rose with a great snarl, forcing him out with a violent shove. He could do nothing but watch, his face a mask of heartbreak and discontent. “What are you trying to do? What do you need? Let me help you.”

  Kirheen whimpered, the call becoming unbearably loud, digging into her mind with curved talons that yanked her back to the task at hand. She ignored Tomias and turned her attention back to the door. It was so close to breaking, so close to revealing the secrets within. With a great burst of power dredged from the depths of her bein
g, she shattered the door, the face of the demon tearing apart as her power ripped through it.

  Her heart surged, legs moving forward against her will. A strange smell greeted her; rot and dust and something bitter. She entered a circular room ringed with massive pillars, a domed ceiling letting in murky light from above. There was a large hole in the center of the room, a set of stairs leading down into the dark.

  Clinging to every inch of the floor, winding up the pillars like creeping vines, was a substance as dark as night, writhing and twisting and consuming the light. It retreated from her steps, curling back in on itself as she stepped into the room. Her heart beat frantically, her mind no longer comprehending what it was seeing and feeling. There was only the call, only the burning torment spreading across her chest.

  Tomias begged and pleaded for her to return, but his voice was muffled, drowned out beneath the song pulling her further into the room. The stairs curled down into the dark and far below, something stirred. The song swelled, growing more powerful with each step. The stairs glistened, the corruption squished beneath her heels with each step, splattering over the tops of her boots where it shifted and changed and tried to flee.

  At the bottom of the pit she found him, more skeleton than man. Great chains had been grafted into the walls and wound around a man bound in the center of the pit. He was terribly starved, each rib poking through his sagging pale flesh. He shouldn’t have been alive, not in his condition, but she could feel power radiating from him, drawing her ever closer.

  He raised his head at her approach. His face was thin, sunken eyes and cheeks a testament to his suffering. Hair clung to his scalp in sparse clumps, the rest having fled his malnourished body. Something glowed across his chest, an expanse of dark crystals alive with the fire of a thousand stars. They oozed like open wounds, dripping corruption down his torso.

  The song shattered in her mind, giving way to a voice low and dark, swirling through her like smoke. “You answered,” he said. Kirheen fell to her knees before him. She could no longer bear the fire raging within her, lapping hungrily at her power, draining her of all she was, of all she’d been. “Now awaken.”

  CHAPTER 37

  Kirheen was gone. One moment she’d been right behind him, the next she’d disappeared without a word, melting into the chaos like a phantom. Tomias looked around frantically, flipping over corpses and peering down hallways, opening doors to empty rooms and shouting her name.

  There was no reply.

  Daris approached, his features reflecting his concern. “Come on, everyone is up ahead. What are you doing?”

  “Kirheen is gone,” he replied, the words bitter on his tongue. “Was she up there with you?”

  He frowned. “No, she wasn’t. I thought maybe she was back here with you.”

  “Well, she isn’t,” Tomias said sharply, trying to keep his voice from shaking. His heart was plummeting into his stomach, his throat clamping shut as he thought through every possible scenario. “Listen, Daris, go with the others. I’m going to hang back and look for Kirheen. Maybe she got turned around in the fighting.”

  “Do you need help? She doesn’t seem like one to get lost.”

  His words were far from reassuring. “Yes, I’m sure. Just go. They’ll need you. I’ll catch up when I find her.”

  Daris frowned but didn’t argue. He jogged off, rounding the corner and disappearing from sight, calling out for Kirheen as he went. Tomias forced himself to breathe, trying to quell the panic rising from deep within. He back tracked, checking rooms and corridors they’d already ventured down before turning his attention to new paths. The castle was huge, a labyrinth of gloomy passageways and untouched rooms filled with cobwebs and dust.

  There was a cracking sound from down the hall, the splintering of wood. Tomias readied himself and rushed towards the source, prepared for a fight if it came down to it. As he rounded the corner, he came to a halt, a flood of relief washing over him as he spotted Kirheen.

  She looked unharmed, her attention locked on a set of massive red doors, eyes looking up at the snarling face of a demon. Her hands were pressed against the doors and he watched in awe as the wood splintered beneath her fingertips, great cracks running the length of the door. Power radiated off of her in waves, overwhelming in its intensity.

  “Kirheen?” he called. She didn’t react to his voice, her focus unwavering. “Kirheen!” He approached, reaching out and grabbing her shoulders. She kicked and flailed at the touch, her nails biting into his skin like razor sharp talons.

  “Let me go! Let me go! I need to find it. I need to see,” she cried, her voice desperate and pleading.

  “Kir, what is wrong with you? What is going on?” Nails bit deeper, blood welling to the surface. He hissed and shoved her away, unable to tolerate the pain. “What are you trying to do? What do you need? Let me help you.”

  He kept a safe distance, watching in disbelief as she stepped back to the door. Reaching out with his power, he tried to sneak into her mind, hoping to find the threat lurking within. Something roared, a conglomeration of power sweeping him up and out of her mind with a violent shove that sent a sharp line of pain cutting across his forehead. Before he could even begin another attempt, the air hummed with power and the doors splintered in a great explosion of wood and dust. He ducked down, hands over his head, as chunks of splintered wood went whooshing by, threatening to impale.

  As the dust settled, he trailed after Kirheen, keeping his distance. Something was wrong with her. Whatever force had a hold of her mind, it had dug in deep. There was no hope of fighting against it, no hope of beating its strength. He peered into the room beyond and froze, his breath catching in his throat. Kirheen was walking slowly through a nightmare, a radiant beacon of light amongst the dark. Something writhed just beyond the edge of the door, dark and alive and terrible.

  It curled up pillars, coated the walls, moving and shifting like mounds of bugs. His skin crawled, his gut a roiling pit of fear and disgust. He staggered back away from the door and the corruption leaked out, creeping across the ground in pursuit. “Kirheen!” he yelled, hoping she could hear him, hoping she’d stop. “Kirheen, get out of there! Come back!”

  She was already disappearing out of sight, descending a staircase in the middle of the room. Tomias tried to focus, to bring his thoughts in line enough to act, to move, to breathe. He could scarcely believe what he was seeing, what was slowly crawling towards him. He quickly checked his barriers, found them whole and untouched. “No. This isn’t real. This can’t be real.”

  There was a slight hum of power radiating from the encroaching darkness, a hum that was settling over his skin, sapping him of his desire to flee. He struggled to gather enough energy to attack, to push it back. Shoving his hand forward, he conjured a burst of shimmering blue light. It collided with the darkness, forcing it to the edge of the door. It curled in on itself, twisting back and forth, watching and waiting.

  Kirheen had disappeared out of sight, lost somewhere below, trapped in a room where he could not follow. He wanted to rush forward, to throw himself against the corruption and save her but, as he looked over the shifting darkness, he knew it was a foolish thought. He wouldn’t make it more than a few steps before it consumed him. He’d need help or risk losing Kirheen forever. His heart shattered as he turned away and he continued to scatter the broken pieces of it as he fled. He said a silent prayer to the Allseer that he’d make it back to her in time.

  CHAPTER 38

  The Raven watched with a gleeful grin as the Scarlet Square began to fill with people. Downtrodden and anxious, they filed in from the side streets, heads bowed and shoulders slumped. They needed guidance and truth, an unshakable faith to drag them out of their stupor, and they’d come to him.

  They’d praised his work, his cruelty, his cunning. They’d seen the blood he’d shed in the name of Zekar and they’d shared of that lust - that power. They were his flock, scared little lambs coming to hide from the wolves. And wolves they
were, those cursed creatures with the power to shake the world and destroy the mind. They would answer for their crimes.

  He stood above the crowd, his tattered robes whipping about him in the breeze, lifting with his spirits. He smiled down at their somber faces and spoke, his voice rising high, luring them closer. “They’ve taken your queen. They’ve corrupted your princess. They came sweeping over this city like a plague, killing and destroying and corrupting all that they touched. They have dealt a great blow to this city, to its glorious people, but fear not for they do not know the power bestowed upon us by Zekar.

  “They do not know the power within our hearts, the power we hold to invoke a great change in this very city. Val’shar shall burn with righteous fire, her citizens the torch that will purge the corrupted from these streets. We were fools to not do more, to not bring an end to this before our glorious family could fall. We allowed the rats to grow plump and fat, but they will not be allowed to feast anymore. Stand with me. Stand with Zekar. Your time is here and this moment cannot be squandered. Take up arms with me, my friends. Let us show them the wrath of the one true god!”

  Hatred was such an easy emotion to ignite. He could see it grow with his words, the little lambs shedding their skin to become wolves themselves. Their eyes shone with bloodlust and they left the square revitalized, filled with righteous fury. They would spread throughout the city and carry his words, carry the will of Zekar. They would plant seeds. And the Raven? He would tend to them, nurture them, and grow them into something twisted and beautiful.

  The time of the royal family was over, but he would pick up where they’d left off. He would do better. His blade would be the sharpest, the quickest, and he’d cut down the weeds and pluck them from the earth. The hour of the Raven had come, and it was time for him to spread his wings and fly.

  CHAPTER 39