“Ready?”
I turned at the sound of my father’s voice behind me. He stood a few feet away, Taavi, his gryphon, behind him. The creature’s head was lowered, its beak gently pressed into his back—as if Taavi knew his Rider was leaving him. I hadn’t even considered that. Raidyn had talked about the special bond between Rider and the gryphon—how the gryphon chose its rider, the lifelong bond that was created. So what happened if the Rider left? Father had already lost one gryphon in Vamala. What would it do to him to leave Taavi behind?
“Yes,” I finally answered his question. “I think so.” I didn’t let my gaze flicker to the side, where Raidyn stood by Naiki’s saddle, his hand resting on her flank, though that tug between us seemed to be pulling tighter and tighter, like someone coiling a rope, hand over hand, trying to draw us closer together. Since neither of us moved toward the other, it only made the tension grow thicker, stronger, more unbearable. “Will Taavi be all right?” The question burst out with more force than I intended, and I quickly followed up with a more gentle, “Since you are leaving him?”
My father turned to look at the gryphon, who had inched closer to him, dropping his head down to Adelric’s shoulder, his eyes half-shut. He lifted one hand to stroke the creature’s feathered head, a shadow of grief clouding his expression. “It won’t be easy, for either of us,” he admitted quietly, and Taavi made a low keening noise in his throat.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Raidyn watching them. My father must have noticed as well, because he added, “It won’t be easy to leave any of those I care about here,” and lifted his other hand to clap it over Raidyn’s shoulder, pulling him into an embrace. Raidyn stood stiffly for a moment but then he lifted his arms and embraced my father back, his eyes squeezed shut tight.
Adelric has been like a father to him—that’s what Loukas had told me. And now he, too, was leaving Raidyn, to go back to Vamala. Back to his true family.
“They’ve begun,” someone nearby said, their voice hushed with awe.
The whisper spread across the field as I turned to see the six Paladin standing with their hands joined. Their veins glowed with power that continued to build and grow, brighter and brighter, until it surged out of them, encompassing their joined hands and bodies in blinding light, and then, finally, surging toward the gateway, rushing over and through it. The stone archway drank in the light of their combined power greedily. I could feel its need, could sense the draw … the pull …
A distant shout echoed over the field and was quickly followed by three loud whistle blasts.
The field exploded with activity as the outer ring of Riders vaulted onto their gryphons and immediately took off, while others tightened their ranks around the gateway—and us, standing a little way behind it, waiting.
“What is it—what’s happening?” I spun toward my father and Raidyn, who both stood facing the forest instead of the gateway, tense, eyes roaming back and forth. Neither of them looked to me.
My father merely said, “Rakasa.”
There was no ignoring the intensity of the pull from the gateway behind us; everything in me yearned to go to it. It called out to me—to all of us, I was certain. It wanted more power, needed more … and I needed to go to it. As strong as I’d thought the tug was between me and Raidyn, this was ten times that. A hundred, maybe. I had to physically fight the urge to turn and rush to the gateway, to grab it with both hands and let it drain me.
No wonder the rakasa were drawn here when the gateway was open.
But what could it possibly want with me? I had nothing to give.
And then there was no more time to think or wonder—the rakasa came, and they came in droves. Waves of monsters broke through the trees, and the once peaceful field exploded into battle. Flashes of Paladin fire and explosions of power met with roars and snarls and blinding, searing flashes of rakasa fire to meet the Paladin’s. They were on the ground, they were in the sky. Some as big as the gryphons, some small and vicious, just as I’d read about in that book I’d managed to sneak from the library what seemed like an entire lifetime ago, when they’d been nothing more than drawings and printed descriptions.
Nothing could have prepared me for the reality of these beasts in person. A whole herd of Scylla, with the bodies of horses, leathery wings, and heads at least fifty percent mouth full of razor-sharp teeth to our left—the same monster that had broken through when Inara opened it the first time; a pair of Chimera straight ahead that were part lion, part goat, and part snake; more Bahal like the one that had seized me; and many others of all shapes and sizes.
I stood there, beside Naiki’s quivering flank, and stared, frozen with horror—with unadulterated terror that flooded my veins like a poison that caused paralysis. Raidyn held her reins tightly, keeping her there, though I knew her instinct was to go join her brothers and sisters and fight. But he was part of the innermost circle, the ones who had to stay on the ground, closest to the gateway—the last wall of protection to give the council time to open the gateway entirely and let us through.
The earth shook, reverberating with explosions and bodies of rakasa slamming to the ground; screams and shrieks of agony—of dying—sounded all around us, and not just from the rakasa. My grandmother had warned me, had tried to tell me how dangerous this was, and I hadn’t listened—hadn’t been willing to listen. Would other Paladin die today so my father and I could return to Vamala? Had I truly been selfish enough to demand that?
A scream—a Paladin scream—from the sky sent claws of guilt and horror raking down my spine. I looked up in time to see a gryphon spinning, free-falling toward the earth, its Rider hanging limp from the saddle. My vision blurred and I blinked furiously as other Paladin on the ground shouted to each other in their language. Suddenly a shimmering blue blanket of power spread out between three Paladin, hovering just above the earth only a moment before the gryphon and its Rider would have crashed to the ground. Instead the net of power caught them and then slowly lowered them. Not Sharmaine, or Loukas, or anyone I knew, but a Paladin nonetheless, who had come here, had risked their life—for me.
The three who had created the net rushed toward the fallen pair, one calling over his shoulder. I only understood one word: healer.
Raidyn started forward, but my father put his arm out to stop him, saying something quietly to him in Paladin. They usually spoke in my language around me and it only drove home the direness of the situation that neither of them seemed to remember I was even there.
And through it all, the gateway called and pulled and then—
“It is done!” Ederra’s exclamation was barely audible but it struck me to the core.
My grandfather was suddenly there, grabbing my arm, yanking me away from Naiki and Raidyn. “Come quickly! Now!”
“Wait—no—” I stared at the gryphon—at Raidyn—who wheeled around to stare back at me, his face stricken.
There was to be no goodbye then. With the frenzy of the rakasa attack, we’d missed our chance.
“Zuhra, you must go now! We have to close it and get our people out of this place!” My grandfather’s hand was like steel around my bicep, immovable, and he dragged me away with surprising strength. “Adelric—come now!”
I glanced over my shoulder to see my father pressing his forehead to his gryphon’s, and then with one last squeeze of his hand on Raidyn’s shoulder, he turned and rushed after us, where Grandfather was already pulling me up the slight incline to where the gateway shone almost as bright as a sun. I couldn’t even look directly at it.
Behind us, a shriek exploded through the air—but this pain was not from a wound inflicted by a rakasa. It was Taavi, keening at the loss of his Rider, and it nearly broke my heart. My father reached my side and grabbed my hand in his, his chin lifted, but I didn’t miss the tears shining in his blue-fire eyes.
The six Paladin who had opened it stood in a row, watching us, my grandmother closest to the gateway.
“Go, my son. Hurry. We must l
eave this place.” Grandfather spoke in my language as he put his hand on my father’s shoulder, much as he had to Raidyn moments earlier. Then he added something else in Paladin and my father nodded.
“I will always miss you and hold you in my heart,” Father replied thickly, but there was no time and we had to move on. I didn’t know how the six Paladin were standing there, resisting the gateway. Its pull was almost a physical thing, reaching for me, grabbing at the very fibers of my being.
Ederra stepped forward at the last second, her eyes dulled from the draw on her power to open the gateway—and from the sorrow that etched deep grooves into her already lined face.
“Mother—I—” My father tried to speak, but his voice broke and he had to stop, letting go of my hand to grab his mother into an embrace instead.
She whispered something to him. I could hear her voice but couldn’t understand her words. Her hands trembled where they clasped him close to her one last time. It almost tore me apart—as I was tearing them apart.
When he let go, she turned to me. We stared at one another for the space of a heartbeat, then two. Then she actually lifted her hand toward me to brush my cheek, swiping a piece of hair behind my ear.
“I’m … sorry, Zuhra.” The words were tight in her throat, barely escaping her mouth, but they were said. When her hand dropped to her side once more and she looked away, I could have sworn she blinked back tears.
“I’m sorry too … Grandmother.”
Her eyes flickered to mine and then away again, but she nodded, once.
It was as much as I was ever going to get. Our time was up.
I reached out for my father’s hand and we turned to face the brilliant gateway.
“Together,” he murmured with a squeeze on my hand.
I squinted my eyes partially shut against the brightness, and we stepped into and then through the light—out of Visimperum and into Vamala.
Into the Hall of Miracles.
Where the scene that greeted me turned my blood to ice in my veins.
“Inara!” I screamed, and then I ran.
FORTY-ONE
INARA
The pain inside is light.
It is power.
It is me.
But something else is there, calling, calling, calling.
Slumbering before, now awake.
Bright, too bright, bright enough to pierce the roar.
And it pulls … I need it … and it needs me …
I go to it. I stumble and get up and walk and all is darkness and I’m alone.
Am I alone?
There are voices.
There’s a roar.
There is someone there …
“Inara!”
“Inara…”
“Inara…”
The brightness is blinding, the pull is demanding.
I try to go to it, but I can’t. Something has me, something holds me back.
Something digs into my arm, into my side, into my neck—
Pain.
Blinding, searing, excruciating pain.
I scream and scream and scream and suddenly—
* * *
The roar recedes like a blanket being pulled away from a window—shoving me from darkness into light in the blink of an eye. But I didn’t use my power—I’m not using my power—and there is still terrible, agonizing pain and something still has me—no, not something … someone. Someone is holding me down and it hurts—it hurts—and my power is sparking, it’s trying to heal—but it’s leaving me—it’s being ripped from me—sucked out of my body—torn asunder from my very soul and I am being torn apart with it—
“Inara!”
I hear my name as if through a dream, a voice I only hear in dreams. I’m screaming and he’s holding me and my power—my power—my power—
FORTY-TWO
ZUHRA
My vision cleared to see Inara lying on the ground, a man bent over her, his mouth on her neck, his hands trapping her arms against the stone floor, and blood—so much blood—
I screamed her name and ran to her. I was fury reborn as muscle and bone and flesh, and all my training finally came to use when I kicked him so hard he lost his grip on her. I kicked him again and he rolled away and then I was on top of him and my fists were flying and I punched and punched and punched—
But he looked up at me and—his eyes—his eyes stopped me for just a moment, long enough for him to shove me in the chest. I landed on my back on the ground with a thud, my head slamming into the stone.
“Zuhra!”
I blinked and tried to sit up, in time to see my father lifting his hand, his power coursing through his veins, gathering in his hand—he was aiming at the man—
“Master Barloc!”
Another shout, this from behind us—a voice I thought I’d never hear again. Halvor was alive?
The man with the glowing blue eyes—the one who had attacked Inara—turned toward Halvor and bared his teeth at him. “Stay back—or I take you with me,” he snarled and Halvor slammed to a halt, his own eyes wide with horror as he took in the entire scene: his master’s glowing eyes, his blood-rimmed lips, and Inara lying on the ground, her neck ripped open and her chest barely moving.
I didn’t understand—I couldn’t make the images make sense. I only knew my sister had been alive and now—now I was back and she was dying.
“No—Inara!” I rushed to her side and put one hand to her neck, pressing it against the wound, and the other to her chest, feeling for breath. “I’m back, Inara. I’m back. So you can’t leave me. You hear me? You can’t leave me!”
“Don’t move or I will dispense with you.” My father’s threat rang out in the room and I glanced up to see his hand glowing with one of his Paladin fireballs, aimed directly at Barloc.
But rather than cowering, Barloc merely laughed. “Oh, you can try. But you know as well as I do that I will just absorb all that power and add it to my stores if you hit me with it right now.”
My father blanched. And then, to my ever-escalating horror, he slowly lowered his hand.
No! What was he doing? Why wasn’t he attacking?
And Inara remained unmoving, her lips bloodless, her chest barely rising and falling.
“She can heal herself. She’ll be all right—she can heal herself,” Halvor repeated, dropping to his knees on her other side, pale and trembling.
“No … she can’t,” my father said quietly, tears streaking down his face, backing toward us as Barloc lifted both his hands in the air with an unhinged laugh. “She’s powerless now. He stole it.”
And suddenly, a horrific story came back to me—another story that hadn’t seemed quite real to me until that moment—of how Anael, my father’s sister, had died.
“No,” I whispered. “No, no, no!”
Raidyn.
My head jerked up and I stared at the gateway that was still open. He could heal her. He had to heal her. I couldn’t lose Inara now—not after everything we’d been through.
“Thank you for doing her job for me, by the by,” Barloc spoke as he moved toward the gateway. “It was kind of you to open that gateway so she didn’t have to use up so much of her power to do it first. It left so much more for me.”
“You wish to go through the gateway to Visimperum?” My father had backed up to stand in front of us, his arms outstretched as though he were trying to protect us from Barloc. “Why?”
Barloc paused, and a shudder went through him, his veins flashing blue—a blinding pulse—and then going back to normal again. “Because it is my rightful home—just as this power is my rightful inheritance.”
“That is not your power—you stole it.” My father’s voice was low and furious.
“It is mine now,” he snarled. “I took back what should have been mine to begin with.”
“What are you talking about?” When Halvor spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. He, too, pressed his hands to Inara’s still chest. His fingers trembled and the look o
n his face when he gazed at her … I recognized it, I knew it—he loved my sister. And now, because of his uncle, she was dying.
“Do you still think the Five who came here all those years ago were truly the first to do so since the original closing?” Barloc laughed, his glowing eyes on my father. “My grandfather was a Paladin—one of the last who came through the gateway with a small group over a hundred years ago. He was eventually murdered for what he was, just as so many have been murdered again this time. But I am going to change that. It’s time the weak, pathetic people of Vamala learn what the true might of the Paladin unleashed feels like—and I will be the one to bring it upon them.”
We all stared at Barloc, in varying degrees of shock.
“You might be immensely powerful right now—but it won’t last. And then they will merely hunt you down and kill you as they have so many Paladin before you.” My father’s hands were clenched into fists at his side, but he still didn’t attack. Why didn’t he attack?
“Which is why I needed the gateway opened before I acted.” Barloc edged closer to it, his veins pulsing blue over and over again. “When I come back, it will be with an army ready to take their place as masters and lords over all Vamala.”
And then he turned and plunged through the gateway, disappearing from sight.
A little sigh escaped from Inara and I looked down at her, my eyesight blurred from tears. And then I remembered—my father was a healer. “You have to heal her,” I whispered, then repeated myself again, louder. “You have to heal her!”
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