by J. A. Comley
“I can see why the Baron is infatuated with you,” he said in his cold voice, amused, the sound hurting her head. “I normally take such pretty things for my own pleasure. They never last long,” he added, his voice sounding bored as he continued his inexorable pace towards her. “Of course, he does not know that it is your blood that draws him to you.” Kyron laughed again. “If he did, he would likely never have tried to harm you.”
Starla didn't know if she wanted to scream or be sick as he came to a stop a breath away from her. She could now clearly see the thin ring of turquoise around each diamond pupil of his eyes. Her skin crawled at the way he looked at her, and she pushed his words about the Baron away. She dropped her eyes from his, following the jagged pattern that trailed down from his left eye, along his cheek, neck, and out across his left arm to his fingertips. She couldn’t afford to think of anything else now. There had to be a way to escape.
Escape from a god? How?
“A Soreiaphin,” Kyron continued, either oblivious or uncaring of the panic trying to take over her mind. “You should be dead. Still, I promised I'd keep you for him,” he said, sighing at the Baron's shortcomings. “But first, I want that amulet,” he continued, holding out his right hand.
“Why would you, a god, bother bowing to the whims of a mere man?” Starla asked, attempting to buy time as she tried to calculate how far she could get before he stopped her with his magic.
His lips curled over his pointed teeth in a snarl. Tendrils of fire burst up around him. “Give it to me,” he said, his voice a dangerous whisper.
“I don't have it,” Starla lied, sliding her foot a little to the left. His quick eyes caught the movement, and he compensated casually.
He unleashed his magic, and fire sliced through the air, the whistling sound promising pain.
Starla's screams echoed around the blackness of Abyss Valley long after she had closed her mouth. She whimpered, curled up in a ball.
Larkel. Larkel.
The tendrils of fire that had burned her arms and legs retreated. Her dress still smouldered around her.
Kyron took half a step forward. “Don't. Lie. To. Me.” He pronounced each word separately, his voice still a chilling whisper. “Now, or I will simply twist your body, making you beg for death until you break and give it to me anyway.”
He extended a golden hand as Starla got back to her feet shakily. The cold night air soothed her stinging, burnt skin.
“You will kill me, anyway,” Starla said, surprised at how even and steady her voice sounded even as his words gave her a small hope. He hadn’t merely killed her, which meant he wanted her alive. Her amulet could not simply be used if she were dead. Astria was wrong. That research was always doomed to fail. Only a Soreiaphin could wield Soreiaphin power, and each only with their own, unique Star.
The realisation of imminent death had also brought with it a brief moment of clarity, a single, pure thought untainted by pain or fear. She saw herself, once more, as Larkel saw her. She clung to the memory, trying to let it fill her, desperate to be that strong and brave, to be able to face death without debilitating fear crushing her. Embracing the image, she forced herself to stand tall and proud, to ignore the burning pain in her legs and arms. Looking him straight in the eyes, she braced herself for another volley of pain.
One bark of mirthless laughter echoed around her. “I at least give the High Lord credit for finding such a strong woman. But then again, your bloodline is full of strength, as is his. You would have made a formidable pair.”
This monster had caused Larkel and his family so much pain. Her hands clenched into fists.
Good, Starla thought as her anger at his words brought her spluttering fire back up to a raging roar. She pushed the words of her bloodlines away. She did not care whether he knew her family or not. She only knew that she needed to get out of here, fast.
His eyes narrowed, promising an eternity of pain, and worse. She melded her anger to Larkel's image of her and clung tight, the rest of her still lost to panic and pain.
He raised a golden hand, the air turning into blades slicing along Starla's arms, neck, torso, and legs. A deeper gash tore through her side, and Starla fell to her knees. Her teeth were still clenched together. She would not scream. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. She tried to distance herself from the part of her mind that felt fear and pain, much like Larkel did to kill Corruptions.
Only one coherent thought existed in that space of cold logic. The Star … she had to do something.
All the little knives vanished, and a terrified-looking group of four grobblers pushed through the drodemion ranks, leaving a gap just a half-step from where Starla kneeled, bleeding slowly into the ash.
She tried to take a deep breath. Her bubble of strength was shrinking fast, disappearing under suffocating fear that his mere presence was pushing on her.
Kyron turned his still-blazing gaze on them. They trembled and cringed away from him.
With tremendous effort, Starla got her feet beneath her again, somehow ignoring the blood, the pain, trying to think through the fear. She concentrated only on that gap, on the concealing darkness beyond. She remained crouched as she gathered her strength. Even if it was a fool’s hope, it was the only one she had left.
“Master,” one grobbler stammered, and they all prostrated themselves before him.
Starla tensed her muscles to spring, ignoring the protests of her injured body.
“Master, the Baron sends word,” the grobbler continued, then paused for Kyron to indicate that he was ready to receive the message. “He says that the plan has run smoothly. He has the Stones and comes with them to join you by dawn.”
The grobblers all cringed into the ground as Kyron pointed a single gold finger at them. “By dawn?” His cruel smile pulled his lips over his teeth. “He may be an idiot, but he does follow orders well. Though he always seems to find a way to fit in his own agenda too.”
Starla took his momentary distraction as her cue and darted through the gap. Her legs propelled her into the darkness at a sprint, sheer adrenaline overriding any pain. The light from the airborne fire vanished and the darkness closed in around her. Starla couldn't see a thing in the sudden blackness but hoped she was still running in the right direction as she held one arm instinctively in front of her, the other clutching her bleeding side.
Get us out of here, she thought desperately at the Star, trying to grasp at whatever magic she used with Larkel.
She strained her ears for any sounds of pursuit, but all she heard was the thunder of her own footfalls and the fast beating of her heart as she raced through the solid darkness.
Starla heard the sickening crack of snapping bone before she felt the pain as her arm hit and broke against something solid and invisible in the darkness. She rebounded off the wall she had run into and landed on the ground in a quivering heap.
Starla struggled to her feet, muffled cries of pain escaping her lips as the giant magmus landed in front of her. Kyron slid gracefully from the creature's back. Starla glanced behind her. In the flickering light emanating from the magmus, she could see the smooth, black wall that had barred her way. It seemed to stretch off in both directions, forever.
Kyron heaved a deep sigh, as if terribly annoyed to be surrounded by fools. “Mortals are always so very thoughtless. You cannot run from me in my own land.” He smiled as he noted her broken arm, pointed teeth glistening in the new fire the magmus spewed. He held a small dagger in his right hand.
As if to emphasise his words, two more walls of glistening black rose up on either side of Starla. Kyron took a step into the open rectangle, his magmus effectively blocking any possible escape.
Starla pressed her back against the wall behind her. She fought to remain conscious through the pain coursing through her body. Her broken, burnt arm had been jostled in her attempts to move, each motion sending another wave of agony pulsing through her. Kyron sauntered towards her, his eyes blazing in anticipation of the pai
n she was about to endure.
I can't let him have it! she thought, desperately, as he took another step.
Concentrating on evening out her breathing, denying the terror and pain that fought for control of her mind, she mentally commanded the Star away. She commanded it to disappear from this place, to go to Larkel, her final token of farewell. She even managed to calm herself enough to close her eyes, to bring up a memory of Larkel.
Kyron was only inches from her when she opened her eyes. The cold metal of the Star clung to her clammy chest, going nowhere. A cruel smile drew up the corners of his mouth as he read the terror and despair in her eyes.
“If you had wanted your magic to work, you should have followed the key on the amulet a long time ago.” He seemed amused, though his eyes tightened slightly.
The cold logic she had been trying to shield herself with shattered, offering her only one more thought.
If my guess is right, then my death will render the amulet useless, leaving him without a weapon or a power source.
Starla gritted her teeth and found one more scrap of defiance, a small part of her mind hoping that if she made him angry enough, he would just kill her quickly, ending her use as a pawn. Though the thought of death left her nearly paralysed with fear, she’d prefer it to be over fast, and more importantly, she wouldn’t become a weapon in this creature’s hands the way Jari had. “You won't win this war,” she spat at him. “The High Lord will stop you.”
A mirthless laugh escaped through Kyron's teeth as he drove his dagger through Starla's shoulder, causing almost as much pain as the cut of the blade as it ricocheted around her mind.
Starla couldn't contain the scream that burst from her throat. Her vision began to swim, dark spots covering it. She shook her head mechanically, trying to cling to consciousness, to clear her vision as Kyron spoke, knowing that she couldn’t let him use her or the amulet.
“That proud High Lord wasn't able to stop me before, even with his father’s sacrifice. He won't, now. In fact, from all I’ve learned, he will be utterly broken when news of your fate reaches him. The Baron is bringing me the Sacred Stones. I will have them before dawn.” He casually twisted the dagger in her shoulder as he continued, “No, I have already won. He will be mine before long too.” He ripped the dagger out of her.
Starla slumped against the wall, blood pouring out of the fresh wound, unconsciousness racing to claim her, his stark words of Larkel in pain stealing the final remanent of her strength.
“No, it is no fun if you aren't awake.” His whisper seemed to slither into her skull. The black spots in her eyes faded. She let all her hatred fill them as she turned her head to look up at him.
“Now you will endure days, weeks, maybe even months of torment before I kill you as I should have done twenty years ago.”
Kyron has just begun to utter some words of magic when a magnificent, white light filled the space around them, stopping him mid-incantation. The light breeze that had been passing over them was suddenly whipped up into a fierce gale. Fire and ice arced through the air like lightning, falling among the magmi as they wheeled through the night. There were hundreds of them, their black scales deflecting the attacks, their cries deafening. Starla felt the wall behind her begin to crack, crumbling away.
Kyron looked like death itself when he turned his gaze back to Starla. Her hate-filled emerald gaze locked with his, the terror of more pain vanishing at his next words.
“A quick end, then.”
Starla shut her eyes as Kyron raised his hand. His face would not be the last thing she saw. In her mind's eye, she drew up a picture of her friends and family, of Larkel.
I love you all. I'm sorry, she thought, feeling the tears of terror and pain finally escape her. She let her mind reach out towards Larkel. His face, his eyes, his lips. She tried to smile at the memory, but her fear of imminent death overrode everything else.
She heard Kyron complete his Curse, audible even over the commotion around her, and a searing, unbearable pain ripped through her body. All her awareness fled.
***
Larkel stumbled as a pain stabbed through his heart. He thought he had just felt Starla's presence somewhere at the edge of his mind, her mental voice tinged with fear, pain and regret. Steadying himself, he let the images of Starla's face pulse through him as he continued to race through the western side of the Imperial Circle. Finally, he came to a stop, panting, in front of the Baron's opulent three-story mansion. It stood dark and empty.
Larkel wasted no time with formalities, blasting the door to pieces with a spell.
I’m already branded a traitor after all.
He took a few steps inside and froze. Everything was in tatters. Plates and glasses lay shattered and scattered across the dining room floor. The furniture was ripped and hacked to pieces. Mirrors and paintings hung skew, broken and torn. Clothing was strewn all over the place, much of it covered in blood.
“What is that man up to?” Larkel wondered aloud, disgust colouring his voice.
“You know, breaking and entering will earn you another jail term,” the Baron's rough whisper came from the stairs.
Larkel spun around, staff at the ready, to find the Baron leaning casually against the railing.
“Although,” the Baron continued, a strange smile playing at his lips, “your reckless entry does add nicely to the whole effect, don't you think?” He gazed with some satisfaction at the shards of glass and broken hinges that were all that remained of his front door.
Larkel tempered his rage. He needed the Baron coherent to tell him where Starla was, and he needed him alive to prove his own innocence. “What's all this for? Staging another crime to peg on Starla?”
He winced as the pain over Redkin's murder washed over him again. How had they killed such a capable Makhi?
His blood boiled as the Baron laughed. “No. Actually, this one was all for you. I knew you'd never accept being locked up.” He shrugged. “And here you are. Just as planned. For all the times I wished I had never met you, my knowledge of you finally paid off.”
Larkel stared at the chaos again, then at the sneer on the Baron's face, the familiar grey eyes that had lain empty for so long finally sparking with a little life.
Larkel felt the heat of rage boil up.
“Where is she? Where is Starla?” His voice came out in a dangerous whisper, his eyes pools of indigo fire.
He saw instinctual fear flicker in the Baron's eyes before he rolled them in an exaggerated gesture. “Not here, Larkel. Of all the lies I told this evening, her clouding your judgement was not one of them.”
“Are you missing a cufflink?” Larkel asked, loathing deeply embedded in every word. “The Commander will have already taken it to the King. You are to be subjected to a full-force Verelios Beam, all your schemes laid bare.” He would get his answers about Starla if he had to drag them out of the Baron's mind himself.
Distracted, the Baron checked his cuffs. The left was hanging open with no cufflink to secure it.
Larkel aimed a paralysis spell at the Baron just as he looked up again. The light of the spell speared towards the Baron then reflected off him. Cursing, Larkel dove out of the way and narrowly avoided being hit by his own spell as it soared over his head.
Bewildered, the High Lord spun in a slow circle, taking in the scene with new eyes as drodemion shamans appeared all over the room. Each had a grobbler clinging to its back so that they could absorb the grobblers’ ability to morph into just about anything.
The realisation that he had been right, that the Baron’s schemes and Kyron’s attacks had indeed been part of the same plan, only further fuelled his anger.
Larkel fired off a few spells at the drodemions around him, but they rebounded off some kind of shield that surrounded them.
The Baron hadn't moved from the foot of the stairs, but the cruelty in his eyes intensified, and his smile widened.
The High Lord's mind raced through all his learning, centuries of knowledge
crammed into decades through in-depth mind links, trying to find a spell that could penetrate this new protection Kyron had given his slaves.
A memory of his father talking about the battle of Wailing Shadow entered his mind. Jari had constantly shifted his magic to deal with the threat, reading the magic, then formulating and casting a spell in mere moments. They were closing in faster now. He swung his staff in a low arc, murmuring incantations, keeping his mind focused. Three drodemions went down. The others continued their approach. It seemed he had been right and not all had the same protection.
Larkel let out a disbelieving cry as one of his spells rebounded back at him, turning into flames and coiling around his ankles, burning through his clothing to just above the knee.
If magic alone wouldn't work, he would have to resort to more mundane methods. He launched himself at the Baron, a grim smile breaking through as his hand encountered no barrier. Grabbing a fistful of his clothes, Larkel dragged Braxton in front of him like a shield. The spell coiling around his legs vanished as soon as it came in to contact with whatever protection Kyron had given Braxton.
The Baron tried to shrug away, ripping his clothes, but Larkel cast a spell to lock his body in place, getting a better grip on the Baron's now exposed shoulder. He was within the protective barrier now, and the spell held firm.
The High Lord continued to launch spells at the drodemions, taking out a couple more, shifting and changing his magic as his father had done. All the rebounding spells dissipated against the Baron's shield.
Suddenly, Larkel became aware of Braxton's mind. Leaving enough of his focus to launch spells at the attackers, effectively keeping them at bay if not actually defeating them, the High Lord entered the Baron's consciousness.
He found a memory of the meeting he had seen from the Shanebury Inn's window. He experienced another memory of the Baron telling his followers of the final phase in Kyron's plan and their roles in it. He stood appalled at how long and complete their betrayal of Galatia had been. The Queen had been waylaid on her mission to Timiol. The attack on the Queen, and her current absence, were their doing. He found some hope in that things hadn't gone quite according to plan. The mission hadn't been completed to Kyron's satisfaction. Perhaps she was still alive. However, they had still succeeded in their main goal of depriving Galatia of her powers. For fifteen years, now, they had worked tirelessly for their Master. So many spies. In the Court, the Guard, the Order, everywhere.