Ty was still trading volleys with Veldon, blue fire colliding with orange. If it hadn’t been so terrifying, it would have been rather beautiful. The walls shook with the impact as each volley collided with their shields.
Ty moved to the side and hurled another ball, except this time he used one of his own shields to cause the flame to ricochet back around behind them.
Feoldor stood there gaping, with nothing he could do as the blue flames flew around his shield and drove straight for Breen’s father once again.
This time, Breen was close enough. He jumped in front of his father, knocking him out of the way. He closed his eyes, and in that moment an image of his mother appeared, her straight brunette hair, her kind eyes, her warm smile as she stood there with arms raised, beckoning for him. He would be glad to see her again.
“What are you doing, just standing there?”
What? He was still alive? Breen peeked through his lids. Ty’s blue inferno was floating right in front of him. Breen yelped and stumbled backward, wincing as he put weight on his injured leg. The ball of fire twisted and spun in the air as though alive, hungry for the kill. Soon, the flames withered and snuffed out. He turned to find Orlyn walking up behind them, his staff raised and pointed in their direction. The runes were glowing. It was the first time Breen had seen the old apothecary wield it.
“Thanks” was about all Breen managed to get out. “I didn’t know you could do that.”
Orlyn shrugged. “I didn’t either.” He looked at the staff. “It was almost instinctual.” He started to say more, but another wave of attacks had the old man rushing forward to help the others.
Breen shook his head. He had to do something. Something besides standing there bleeding.
For the moment, with Orlyn’s help, the three council members were holding their own, actually forcing Ty back toward the rotunda. But Breen could see they weren’t going to last long. Ty was simply too strong to handle, and it had been a number of years since Veldon, Feoldor, or Orlyn had been in their prime.
Breen marveled at his brother’s strength. He didn’t remember him having such control over his abilities during their battle with the Tallosians. If something as simple as a single book could twist Ty’s mind to the point of wanting to kill his own family, what would happen if the White Tower were to get their hands on him?
Something cold slithered up his leg, and he nearly jumped. He turned to find Fraya standing beside him, her hand glowing as she held it over his wound. It was the first time he’d experienced her magic. The pain eased, then subsided altogether, leaving him with a rather pleasant numbing feeling.
He kissed her. He didn’t figure a simple thank-you would suffice. “Stay behind me,” he said, moving to shield her, but she pushed him to the side and drew her own sword. He grunted but moved.
The council’s momentum was slowing. All three men looked on the verge of passing out, especially Feoldor. If they fell, there was nothing to stop Mangora. Ty was nearing the end of the corridor, and the council’s attempt to push him out into the open had faltered, grinding to a halt.
Breen looked around. He had the same gift as his father, but what good was having perfect aim when facing someone who could literally stop anything you tried to throw at them? Then it occurred to him. Why not borrow one of the witch’s tricks?
He reached into his pocket and grabbed one of the marbles he used for target practice when he got bored. He studied the witch’s shield, the way she blocked Veldon’s attacks. She was good, deflecting, parrying. Every attempt diverted.
Breen found his center, releasing his magic to help anticipate the throw. Everything came into focus, allowing him to see exactly what it would take for the marble to reach its destination: the force of the throw, the direction it should take, the angle of the hit to make it around the shields. It was all there. Taking a deep breath, he pulled his arm as far back as he could and waited for an opening in Feoldor’s shield.
There it was. He took a deep breath, and the ground under him split, floor tiles snapping as an enormous root tore through and grabbed him by the leg, the same one Fraya had just healed.
“What in faerie fire!” Breen tried to pull his sword, but the root had pinned it to his side. He cried out as it tightened. He grabbed one of the daggers from under his coat and sank it into the wood. The root recoiled and jerked but maintained its grip.
Fraya screamed and lunged, her sword narrowly missing his arm as she swung wildly at the piece of root. She cleaved it in two with a single chop, and it sank back into the ground, only to have three more burst through farther down.
Lyessa and Barl were there in an instant, spinning and cutting, dodging and hacking at the long vines and thick roots as fast as they appeared.
“Orlyn!” Breen’s father shouted. “Get back here!”
Orlyn turned and raised his staff in the air, runes glowing. “Begone!”
The roots curled up and immediately pulled back into the ground.
From the front, Ty released another heavy barrage of blue fire against what was left of their shield. Feoldor was about to collapse.
Breen turned, surprised to find the marble still clutched in his hand. He refocused himself and released his magic. He couldn’t wait, and as soon as the shield opened for Veldon, Breen responded. He threw the marble, his fingers releasing at the exact moment needed to send it barreling toward the floor.
The marble flew through a hole in Feoldor’s shield, sparking blue and orange as it reflected the fires coming from both sides. It hit the floor four feet from the right wall, just missing a piece of broken tile that had been splintered in an earlier attack. The glass ball ricocheted off the ground and hit the right wall, where it bounced once again, slipping just behind Mangora’s shield.
The marble clipped Ty’s head, and he stumbled to the side, shrieking as his fire was extinguished and shield dissolved. He grabbed his head. The strike had been hard enough to disorient him but not enough to do any permanent damage.
At least, Breen hoped not.
“Now, Feoldor! Hit her now!”
Feoldor didn’t look like he could have hit the floor had he fallen, which is what it looked like he was about to do, but somehow he managed to gather one last volley of air and send it straight at Ty.
Ty’s body flew through the air and into the foyer, sliding to a stop near the center. Slowly, he lifted his hand to his head, and it came away with blood on it.
Breen gasped. Had they gone too far?
Before they managed to get into the atrium, Ty was back on his feet, his hand glowing as he pressed it to his head.
“That was quite the throw,” Breen’s father said to him as they ran into the open foyer. Fraya was standing behind Feoldor, her hand glowing as she pushed her magic into him. His face was still pale.
The atrium’s vaulted ceiling and wide-open space forced Feoldor to expand his shield even further to keep everyone protected. His arms and legs were shaking as they stopped and took up position about ten feet from where Ty stood.
“This way,” Breen’s father said as he and Sheeva broke away from the others and headed left around the back of the pillars that lined the outer wall. “We need to get behind him.”
Breen ran to catch up, blood pumping as he ignored the pain in his leg from where the roots had wrapped him.
They passed the third pillar and headed for the fourth when his father stopped. Breen skidded into him as someone stepped out from behind the column.
“You’re going to need this,” Nyalis said, tossing Breen his black bow and quiver. “I found that outside, tied to a horse. Can you believe it? One of the lost magical bows of the Sol Ghati just sitting there for anyone to take.”
“Magical?” Breen asked, looking at the runes.
“Created to fight faeries. We’ll discuss how you ended up with it later. For now, what in the flaming tongues of Oriffon is going on around here?”
“We found Ty,” Breen said, still perplexed about how Nyalis had
known he was the one who had left the bow.
Nyalis turned and started for the next pillar. “I can see that for myself. But why here?”
“Barl called for a conclave of the Provincial Authority,” Breen’s father said as they chased after him. “My guess is she’s here to kill them.”
“She?”
Breen sneered. “It’s Mangora.”
Feoldor shouted, and everyone stopped. His shield had given out completely this time. Veldon had his arm around him, holding him on his feet. The rest of the council, along with Barl and Lyessa, were standing behind them with nothing between them and Ty but their clothes and a prayer.
Ty billowed with excitement and hit them with a blast of energy, scattering the group like leaves in a strong wind. Most flew back down the corridor, a couple landed against the walls of the atrium, and Orlyn smacked into one of the pillars and fell. He didn’t move.
Fraya struggled to her feet and rushed to help, desperately pushing strands of purple light into the most injured.
Ty raised his hand, and blue flames ignited again in his palm.
Breen didn’t stop to think. He grabbed another marble from his pocket and ran out into the center of the atrium. He released his magic and threw the glass ball straight for the side of Ty’s chest. He didn’t want to risk hitting his brother in the head again.
The marble stopped mere inches away and dropped to the floor.
His heart sank. Ty was shielding his sides as well.
Ty turned and smiled. “You didn’t think I’d fall for that twice, did you?” He reached out as if grabbing an invisible object and muttered something under his breath.
Breen’s eyes widened, and he clutched his throat. He couldn’t breathe. Why couldn’t he breathe? The witch had somehow closed off the air. He gasped and dropped to his knees.
“Stop!” His father flew past him, daggers flying from both hands, downward toward Ty’s legs. Both the daggers and his father slammed into an invisible barrier and fell backward. His father would have hit the ground if Sheeva hadn’t been there to catch him and pull him behind one of the pillars.
Breen tried to speak, but it came out half garbled as he fought for breath. “Ty! Fight it! Please!” His heart pounded in his ears, each beat faster than the one before. His body convulsed. Someone was shouting. He couldn’t tell who it was or what they were saying. What was that stupid wizard waiting—
A blinding stream of golden light flew over his head and slammed into Ty’s shield, throwing him off his feet, sending him careening across the floor.
Breen’s throat was released, and he sucked in a gulp of air. His head felt like it was going to explode as he sucked in another. He tried to stand, but his father and Sheeva were there, grabbing his arms and pulling him toward one of the pillars.
On the other side of the room, Ty was back on his feet, blood running from the side of his mouth. He hurled a line of blue fire directly at them before they could make it behind the pillar.
Nyalis stepped out and raised his staff. The fire exploded in a cloud of smoke and flew out the front doors.
“It’s good to see you again, my boy,” the wizard said, walking toward him as though they had merely met on the street. “What have you managed to get yourself into this time?”
“You!” Ty raised his hand and sent a lance of fire directly at him.
Nyalis raised his staff and conjured a hollowed-out shield that curved backward in a half circle and sent Ty’s flames straight back at him.
Ty was forced to block his own fire.
Nyalis raised one hand and sent what looked like gold lightning barreling across the room. Ty’s eyes bulged as he raised both his hands with a howl, and blue lightning connected with the gold, ricocheting off the walls and ceiling and floor, sending pieces of white granite and debris everywhere.
Claps of thunder shook the hall. The entire foyer was popping and buzzing. Sparks shot in all directions, bouncing off the walls and pillars, finally coming to rest on the tile below.
Every hair on Breen’s body stood on end. Was the wizard trying to kill his brother?
“Impressive!” Nyalis shouted over the buzz and hiss of their connecting magic. “Your power is growing.”
Breen couldn’t tell if he was addressing Ty or Mangora, but he could see sweat beading on the old man’s forehead. Nyalis had told them that Ty was more powerful than all of them, including the wizard. What if Nyalis wasn’t strong enough to stop Ty, either? The thought hadn’t occurred to him until now.
Mangora also seemed to be having difficulty. Ty’s arms were shaking under the strain. With a look of desperation, the witch broke off her attack and wrapped Ty in a shield. “You’re too late, wizard. I’ll kill the faeling before I let you have him.”
Nyalis released his attack, and the gold strands of light disappeared.
“Kill?” Breen started to step out from behind the pillar, but Nyalis waved him off. What was the wizard waiting for? Mangora had completely shielded Ty. How were they going to get to the book now? Breen peered around the column. He could see the bulge in Ty’s left jacket pocket where he kept the numori.
“Your master won’t be too pleased to hear you killed his prize,” Nyalis said, taking a step forward.
“Stay back, wizard, or I’ll suffocate the faeling with his own shield.”
Nyalis stopped. He seemed to be pondering her threat.
Breen peeked around the pillar once again. Ty was bent over. He looked like he was having a hard time breathing. Could she really suffocate him?
Breen frantically unhooked his bow. He wasn’t going to just stand there and watch his brother die. He looked down at the runes. Nyalis said it was magical. But what kind of magic? If it was created to use against faeries, it had to be powerful. Maybe powerful enough to pierce her shield. He had no idea, but he was desperate enough to try.
“Release him, Mangora,” Nyalis said, his voice sounding almost worried. “He’s no good to you dead.”
Breen’s hands were shaking as he pulled one of the black shafts and nocked it. This was crazy. Even if the arrow managed to make it through Ty’s shield—a shield that not even Nyalis’s lightning could pierce—he was going to have to shoot a target that was not only a few inches thick but was resting directly over his brother’s heart. He wasn’t sure that even his magic was that accurate.
He glanced around the pillar. Ty was down on one knee, his face pale, lips blue. Breen couldn’t wait any longer. Taking a deep breath, he stepped out from behind the column and lifted the bow. He released his magic, and the runes flared to life. His brother turned, fear flashing in his eyes.
Breen concentrated on the bulge over his brother’s heart. He pulled the string, but only partially, his eyes never leaving the book. This was an impossible shot.
Mangora evidently saw what he was planning and reached for the book, but Breen was already deep within his magic and his aim locked.
Please don’t let me shoot too far, he prayed, then released the arrow.
The string buzzed, and the arrow flew off the bow.
Ty tried to dive out of the way, but the arrow punched through the shield and pierced the book before he could.
Mangora screamed as Ty went down. The shield dissolved.
His brother wasn’t moving.
Breen’s breath caught in his throat. “No!” He’d shot too far.
Ty suddenly jerked, and Breen exhaled. He’s not dead.
“Get that book!” Nyalis shouted.
Breen ran past the wizard, his father meeting him halfway.
Ty was writhing on the ground by the time they reached him, his body curled and shaking as he continued to scream.
“Hold his arm,” Breen told his father as he bent over and yanked the arrow out and threw it behind him. He reached into Ty’s pocket and grabbed the book.
Ty’s eyes opened and locked on Breen. There was nothing in them but hatred.
Breen didn’t even have time to open his mouth before Ty
hit him in the chest with something that sent Breen and the book straight into the air. He was halfway to the ceiling before he realized what had happened, the impact so strong that he had nothing inside to even scream with as he started back down.
Nyalis raised his staff, and Breen hit an invisible wall and slid sideways at least twenty feet safely to the floor. His knees were shaking by the time he reached solid ground.
“Drop it!” Nyalis said.
It took Breen a moment to catch his breath. He quickly threw the book to the floor and backed away. The wizard unleashed a single strand of his golden lightning, and the numori burst into flames.
Ty screamed once more, convulsing so strongly that Breen’s father was thrown to the side.
Breen hobbled back to his brother and knelt to pick him up.
“Stop!” Nyalis said. “Don’t touch him. I need to purge the darkness from his mind.” The urgency in the wizard’s voice held Breen back. Nyalis leaned on his staff and stiffly knelt beside Ty’s limp body.
“Will he live?” Breen asked.
Nyalis laid his staff on the floor beside him and stretched his hands over the top of Ty’s head. “I believe so. However, the effects of such a twisting can only be healed with time and patience.”
Breen glanced over his shoulder. Fraya was helping Orlyn to his feet, her hands still glowing as she infused the old apothecary with her magic. She looked pale herself.
Lyessa and her father, along with the other members of the council, limped over to join them as they gathered to watch the wizard perform his magic, being sure to keep a safe distance.
“I believe I can reverse the damage,” Nyalis said. He started chanting softly, so softly Breen couldn’t make out the words.
Breen breathed a heavy sigh of relief, though, when his brother’s body seemed to relax, his chest rising and falling in a slow rhythmic fashion. “As long as there is hope.”
Nyalis looked up and smiled. “There is always hope.”
Plague of Shadows Page 60