The fire’s form was almost crystalline and bound them together to take this shape and hold them. Devol could feel the heat burning him even with his anima holding it at bay. He tried to reach into his pocket but he couldn’t. From this position, he couldn’t even reach his marble. In his panic, he didn’t think to call his majestic to him.
Salvo wanted to taunt them and ask if they regretted their choice to try to be Templars and if they wondered if they had made any progress at all if they died so young because of foolish choices. But instead, he heard the incessant demand in his head—burn them, kill them, consume them. He wanted to and could sense that the desire was his own, but it also felt wrong—like he was rushing this. After all his efforts, he wanted to enjoy it more but the voice constantly demanded and ordered and he could not hold against it.
“I can’t…get my majestic!” Devol cried and as common sense kicked in, he stretched his hand out and attempted to summon it to him. It was one of the tricks he had mastered, he believed, but with the heat and pain, he could not focus.
“I can’t blink us out of here!” Jazai warned and squirmed in the fiery serpent’s grasp. “It’s taking all my mana simply to fight against it.”
“I have…I have a way out,” Asla shouted and the boys immediately looked at her. “I cannot promise I will be able to help after but I can do this much.”
“Asla, what are you talking about?” Devol’s question got a response from her in the form of action. Her anima flared again and the cat silhouette that would appear around her body during intense fights began to solidify and become more than a mere shadow. The snake seemed to weaken as she began to push it apart. The form of a tiger or panther surrounded her now and it dug its claws into the snake and ripped it apart. Asla snapped her head toward the serpent’s, her fangs protruding, and bit the creature’s head, yanked it back, and ripped it off. The rest of it disintegrated and released them to fall heavily.
“Asla!” Devol yelled and stared at where she lay unmoving on the ground. Jazai went to examine her quickly and nodded to him that she was breathing at least.
“No!” The two turned to Salvo, who had begun to create a fireball. “No, no, no!” The swordsman snatched Achroma up as the man fired volley after volley at them. He knocked each fiery missile to the side or into the air. As the fire magi prepared to launch a much larger fireball, he reared and held the blade up, then swung it forward. It immediately brightened and created an extended blade of light that cleaved through the infernal orb and struck Salvo’s wand.
A loud crack heralded the shattered pieces of the red crystal that fell around the man, and a furious, pained scream followed. As the fireball erupted to scatter fire around the area, blood spilled from under Salvo’s mask and a large wound stained his shirt. Majestics were connected to their users and their destruction was the owner’s pain. The man fell to one knee, his breathing ragged, and for the first time in their fight, he truly looked vulnerable. He turned to Devol and the mask began to pulsate again as the features shifted into an expression of wrath.
“Jazai, you and Asla get out of here,” he said quietly and spun his sword.
“No way. I’m not leaving until I see this bastard fall.” Jazai replied although he took a moment to look at the unconscious wildkin. Devol realized that staying might be for the best at that moment.
“Then watch over her,” he requested, drew a deep breath, and readied his sword. “I will end this.”
Salvo uttered another angry yell and smacked his wand into the ground. Even without the crystal, a column of flame erupted around him. Jazai summoned a shield as the swordsman held his blade up and occasionally deflected errant blasts of fire.
“He’s losing it!” the diviner shouted and strengthened his shield. “Way more than he has already.”
“I can’t fight him at this range.” Devol began to move forward. “I need to get in close!”
“Then take this!” Jazai tossed him a vial of the blue liquid he had poured on himself. “It’s for magical burns. Pour some on your hands and lower arms and you may be able to buy more time to get a good strike.”
Devol nodded, popped the top of the vial, and applied the liquid as suggested. He tossed the vial aside and lunged toward Salvo, who now turned to face him. The fire magi swung his wand and the column around him spread wider. The boy planted his blade into the ground as he had seen Farah do. He created a barrier in front of him that took the hit but the force was still enough to almost knock him back if he hadn’t had such a tight hold on his majestic.
Quickly, he yanked it out of the ground and continued his onslaught. Salvo, at this point, merely slung his wand around almost as if it were a blade to cast random fireballs and blasts of flame in his direction. The young swordsman dodged easily or parried most of these until he finally moved close enough for him to charge his blade and make a desperate move to end this by driving it into his adversary. But before it could connect, a massive wall of fire formed in front of the psychotic magi and held his blade in place as it formed into the same crystal-like form as the snake earlier.
The boy was able to pry his sword out of the fire and he jumped back. The serpentine shape wavered and shifted into what he had stared at during this entire fight. He grimaced as it took on the form of the demon mask, although this one had an open maw where orbs of fire danced within.
A voice spoke but it did not sound like Salvo’s. Instead, the dark, grave voice that had seemed to underpin the fire magi’s speech took control, although it was now loud and cavernous. It echoed the words from the pages of Jazai’s tome…consume, consume, consume. As Devol stared at the fiery recreation of the malefic, he felt for a brief moment that the dark desire might come to pass.
Chapter Thirty-One
Farah smashed the pommel of her blade into the face of one of the fiends and raised a shield hastily as two others attempted to strike her from behind. She turned and cut through them before she flipped her blade and drove it through the attacker behind her. “How much longer, Wulfsun?”
“I almost have it!” the Templar shouted. The rift had narrowed to such an extent that he could grasp it with his actual gauntlets. He looked at a fiend that tried to force itself through the shrinking portal and with a grimace, he lifted his leg and stamped his boot on it to knock it back. “Get out of here, you annoyin’ inkblot!”
“The barrier is shrinking again,” Farah announced when she noticed the edges continue to close in around her. She kicked another of the beings into it before she thrust her enchanted sword through it. The blow eliminated the fiend but also cracked the barrier. “Hells! It’s weakening too.”
“I only need a few more minutes,” Wulfsun promised. “Once I collapse it enough, I can make the ward It won’t take but a jif.”
“Will that also take care of the dome?” she asked as she looked around her. The fiends had finally been worn down enough that they no longer regenerated.
“The ward will reverse the magic and keep the rift closed, and abyssal magic will either disperse or be reabsorbed into its realm,” the Templar explained and pulled the edges of the rift closer with the gauntlets of his majestic. “We need to destroy those obelisks as well and keep fragments to see if we can determine where they came from.”
“Is there anything I can do to help? The fiends seem to be gone for now,” she told him, although she refused to put her sword away for the moment.
“Aye, you can start making the ward.” Wulfsun grunted and strained to seal the last sections of the rift. “Take the powder out of my satchel and make a ring around the rift.”
Farah ran up behind him and paused when she saw three satchels. “Which one?”
“In a flask…the satchel above the left cheek,” the man snapped and his gauntlets grew brighter as he clenched his teeth. “Hurry! I want to get back to the kids.”
She found the flask, opened it, and ran quickly around the rift, leaving a trail of the powder behind her. “When yer done, I need you to create
a shield to protect us from the fire. I need to drop my barrier to focus on containing the rift while I finish the ward. Do you have enough mana left for that?”
“I do,” she assured him, reached the end of the circle, and hurried to his side with the flask ready. “Tell me when.”
Wulfsun nodded and opened his palms as the rift condensed even further. He maneuvered around it and shaped it into an orb the size of a grapefruit. “All right, I’m preparing to drop my barrier. You’re up!”
Farah held her sword aloft and a stream of light magic poured out and formed around them as his barrier fell. He created a small barrier around the rift itself and took the flask out again as he backed away slowly. The magics of the rift thrust against his shielding. Quickly, he set to work finishing the ward and hurried as much as he could without making a mistake. Wards weren’t his specialty, which made it a little more challenging. He took a moment to look at the fiery wall around the edges of the pit. It had been a while since he had spoken to any Astral, but he took a moment to threaten Finis and demanded that he not take the young ones. Otherwise, he would have to talk to him personally.
Devol showed no fear to his enemy, but it did no good. Salvo probably couldn’t even see him through the inferno he had created. A torrent of flame streamed out of the mask and the boy turned his blade so the flat side faced forward and created a shield. The fire was relentless and pushed him back with its onslaught. The shield began to evaporate and he prepared to leap out of the way before it gave out completely. He jumped and expected to be scalded before a blue shield appeared as his gave way.
“Jazai!” he shouted, landed on his feet, and turned as the diviner’s shield was smothered. His friend was on his knees with an arm extended. “Thank you, but you and Asla need to get out of here.”
“I know…dammit!” Jazai muttered and fumbled in Asla’s pocket to take her marble out. “That was the last of my mana. I barely have enough to be useful but you need to go too.”
“I can’t, not as long as—”
“Devol, look out!” The swordsman spun as several fireballs streaked toward him. He blocked a couple of them but one caught him in the chest and set his jacket and shirt on fire. Hastily, he stripped them off and checked himself for wounds. Slight burns were visible on his chest and stomach but could have been much worse without his anima.
As he checked his waist, his hand touched an item he had forgotten about—one that gave him pause. He looked at the demonic visage in the fire-wall. “Jazai, I need to end this.”
“Wulfsun will take care of him,” the diviner protested. “Can you even get around him to—” Devol drew the item from his waist and held it behind his back for his friend to see. The boy understood almost immediately. “If you’re gonna try that, you’d better make it count,” he muttered as he retrieved his marble and held it in his hand. “We’ll be waiting.” Jazai poured mana into both marbles and his and Asla’s forms vanished into a stream of mana that quickly moved through the dome.
“They can’t run away!” Salvo shouted. The fire-wall parted and the man walked through. “I’ll find them again after I deal with you. I will kill you all.” At least he was now speaking in complete sentences again.
The boy stood and pointed his majestic at the fire magi. “You aren’t leaving here, Salvo.”
“Make your boasts,” the man all but growled and whipped the fires around him into a frenzy. “Have you even killed a man before, brat? I’ve killed hundreds. Do you think I’ll simply let you cut your teeth on me? I have a new world to see.”
Devol made no answer as he slid his hand behind him. The fire magi prepared to send all the flames forward but the boy flung a dagger before he could do so. Salvo didn’t need the enhancements from the mask to dodge it. He simply tilted his head to the right and let it sail past. He chuckled at what he considered a foolish final attempt to wound him.
But as he launched the massive waves of flames at the young Templar trainee, the boy disappeared. Salvo shuddered and turned when he felt a presence behind him. His adversary reappeared and before his feet even touched the ground, he struck out with his blade. Salvo snarled defiance and gathered the fire for another attack, but Achroma sank deep into his chest.
“Only a little longer!” Wulfsun shouted and placed his hands on the edge of the ward. “I’m activating it now.” It glowed and turned the yellow of his mana. He dropped the protective shield around the rift and it began to stagnate and no longer pulsed with magic, although something dark flowed into it from above. He looked at a thin line of abyssal magic that came from the very top of the dome. It was able to funnel into the rift even through Farah’s shield, and the strand continued to grow as the flow moved faster. “It’s done!” he shouted and turned to the guard captain. “The abyssal magic is returning to its realm. We need to go.”
“What about the rift?” she asked and pointed in alarm. “It’s opening again.”
The Templar turned and realized that it had indeed begun to open, but it was not growing. “The ward will keep it contained. We need to destroy the obelisks but it opened to absorb the magic coming in.” He gestured around them. “Drop the shield and let’s go.”
Farah released her barrier and pointed to the top of the pit. “Those fires above are getting weaker.” Wulfsun noticed that the once-raging flames had begun to shrink and flickered weakly. Something had happened above.
Devol moved to pull his blade out of Salvo but the man stumbled back and removed the blade himself. He looked at the wound and shook visibly, either in shock or rage. The boy held Achroma in one hand, breathing heavily, and he grimaced at the blade coated by his adversary’s blood.
The fire magi began to chuckle and looked slowly at him. “A nice…hit,” he muttered and coughed. Fresh drops of blood came from beneath the mask, “How does it feel? To kill a man?” The boy did not answer and simply gazed at him with contempt, although there was a brief flicker of concern that set the maniac off. “Relish it! Don’t you balk now, coward!” he screamed and the voice of the mask fell away. “Do you think I’m the worst this realm has to offer? You had best get used to this if you dare to stand up to him.”
“To who?” Devol demanded. “Who are you working for?”
Salvo lurched forward but stopped himself and began to laugh again. “It doesn’t matter. I won’t see the new world but neither will you.” With a shaking hand, he began to point his wand at the boy, who did not respond by lifting his blade. Instead, he dropped it, rushed forward, and focused the rest of his mana on vis as he balled his fist. He drove it into the mask and the blow catapulted the man back. Fragments of the mask shattered and splintered off.
The fire magi fell through the fires around the pit as Wulfsun and Farah leapt up. They spun as he passed them and Devol ran to the edge and watched as he fell into the bottom of the pit and directly into the portal. The man reached a hand up as the rift seemed to yawn hungrily and the bottom half of his body sank immediately into the rift. A chunk of the mask was destroyed and revealed one eye that showed, anger, confusion, and fear.
As Salvo slid into the abyss and it shrank behind him, the Templar pointed to the obelisks, whose runes were now blank. “Farah!”
“I’m on it.” She picked her sword up, enchanted it with light, and swiped at the air to create a magical projectile that cut one of the obelisks in half. She swung her arm and destroyed the other, which shattered and spat pieces in every direction. “Devol, you have your marble, right?”
He checked his pants pocket and took it out. “I do,” he said as Wulfsun retrieved his as he stooped to take something off the ground.
“We need to leave. Use it,” she ordered and immediately disappeared in a flash of mana.
Devol looked at his mentor, who nodded to him with a solemn expression. “Come on, lad. We should talk.” With that, they activated their marbles as the dome continued to shrink and the magics returned to their rightful dimension.
Chapter Thirty-Two
When Wulfsun and Devol escaped the dome, they were greeted by corpses and fire. “Aw, hells.” The Templar grunted and scowled regretfully at some of the fallen. “I should have realized.”
“Wulfsun!” Farah shouted and gestured for him to join a small group. “There are survivors.”
“I’ll be right there.” He placed a large hand on the boy's shoulder. “You did good, lad. I’ll talk to you in a moment but you should check in with your friends, yeah?”
“Yeah.” He nodded and looked for Jazai and Asla. They were farther down the field near the hills and he rushed to them. The diviner was tending Asla’s wounds. “Hey, are you guys all right?”
The other boy nodded silently at first before he looked briefly away from his work. “Did you get him?”
Devol drew a deep breath and nodded. “I did.”
“What happened?” Asla asked when she saw the burns on his body. “Are you all right?”
“I’ll be fine after I see a healer,” he assured them and traced a hand over his wounds. “As for what happened, I was able to get around him.” He took the dagger out. “Using Rogo’s gift, I was able to get a hit.” He placed a hand carefully on his chest. “Right through his chest.”
“Did you get the heart?” Jazai inquired as he stared at his friend’s blade and noted the drying blood.
Devol fell back a little in surprise. “As in…ripped it out?”
“What? No! I mean, did you—” He stopped and sighed as he shook his head. “Never mind. I’m only making sure he’s dead.”
“Well, he was bleeding badly.” The swordsman sat next to his friends, took his sheathed sword off his back, and placed it beside him. “And the sword ran him through. After that, I knocked him into the rift.”
Bloodflowers Bloom (The Astral Wanderer Book 2) Page 17