by Ben Hale
But the legs were quick to regrow and the spider began to rise anew. Winter darted to it, casting a group of fire gremlins that attacked the legs and scaled to the spider’s head, their claws digging into the stone.
“Go!” Winter shouted. “I’ll handle the entity!”
Toron hesitated, but Winter sucked the heat from the beast, causing its mandibles to freeze shut. More and more she pulled the heat, using it to conjure more gremlins. The stone turned brittle from the frost, allowing the gremlins to damage the spider’s stone flesh. She growled from the strain of using so much magic, but looked to Toron.
“Go!”
Growling at the choice, Toron turned and raced to Elsin, locked in mortal combat with Galathon. She’d cast a swordsman of her own, a rock troll of pure light. It accepted the mighty blows and landed its own, the blade finding Galathon’s flesh. Then Elsin spotted Toron’s charge and scowled.
The effort required to maintain the entities pushed even the amplious to the limit, and Elsin’s features showed the strain. Then she raised her hands and gathered the wind, churning the air into a wave that rose up between them. Rising all the way to the ceiling, the air gained a disturbing whine as it formed a tidal wave. Then she brought her hands together into a deafening clap, sending the wave of air streaking towards them.
Toron stabbed his sword into the ground but the wind yanked it free and sent him soaring the length of the chamber. He slammed into the far wall just feet from Galathon, while Winter slid to a halt a short distance away. Blood seeped from a wound on her scalp, darkening her white hair.
She did not rise.
Galathon rose to his feet, blood seeping from a dozen wounds. Toron saw the extent of the damage and realized the troll defied death by force of will. Toron attempted to rise, but the Paladin’s arm would not respond, and he looked down to find it missing below the shoulder. Growling, he teetered as he came to his feet.
His vision flickered in and out, the link to the Requiem damaged. Through the haze he saw Elsin in the midst of the devastated hall. Her spider lay in ruins, the stone burning. The soldier of light had been shattered, the limbs torn from its torso. Elsin stood close to the Requiems, her chest heaving.
“You and your petty attempts to stop me,” Elsin snarled. “You cannot defy my fate.”
She reached up and clenched a fist, and a spike of stone plummeted through a Requiem, the shard killing the occupant and shattering the magic.
“Even the oracles cannot stop me.”
She clenched her fist again, and another Requiem went dark. In the raging battle outside the fortress another Paladin collapsed, landing atop a pair of Verinai it had been fighting and crushing them under its bulk.
“You are just insects to me!”
Galathon raised his axe and roared. Then he leaned back and hurled it the length of the chamber. Flipping end over end, it streaked for Elsin. She sneered and reached up, intent on catching the hammer with her bare hand.
“You never learn . . .”
A sword plunged into her back, and the shock of the wound caused her to falter. Galathon’s axe struck her in the chest, knocking her into the rubble. Across the chamber Winter stood and released her magic that had held Toron’s Paladin on its feet.
With Winter holding the Paladin aloft, Toron had separated from the Requiem and stalked to the distracted Elsin. Reaching her as Galathon hurled his weapon, he’d struck her from behind, allowing Galathon’s axe to land its fatal blow.
Toron stepped to the dying woman and stooped to her side. “Where’s Mal?” he asked, pulling the amplious and ocleon free.
“Toron,” she said with a grimace, “How could you betray me?”
“You betrayed yourself,” he said. “Now where’s Mal?” Her features filled with indecision so he leaned down. “Would you have him die because of your pride?”
“He’s not always himself,” she said, clenching her hand on her wounds. “He disappeared after we returned to the mainland.”
“Where would he go?” Toron demanded.
Her eyes fluttered and her voice grew faint. “I’m sorry, Toron. I thought the amplious could undo what I had done. Please heal our son . . .”
Elsin grimaced and then the light faded from her gaze. Toron watched her die with regret tightening his gut. She’d betrayed him, nearly killed their son, and sought to usurp the kingdoms and the Empire. But she’d been his wife at one time. He reached out and closed her eyes before leaving her behind.
***
Alydian was in the fight of her life. Empowered with the magic of rage, Teriah flew with the mighty phoenix charm, unleashing a maelstrom of fire and red lightning. Alydian fled into the canyon of mages, leaping over the remains of entities and wounded Verinai.
The surviving Verinai cried out at the sight of Teriah soaring through the canyon, but their hope turned to ashes when the fire reigned death upon them. In the dwindling light Teriah’s phoenix reflected bright red, the color shimmering on the walls of the canyon. Like a vengeful demon she pursued Alydian.
“Your fear is delicious,” Teriah called, her laughter reverberating down the canyon.
With a speed charm hastening her steps, Alydian sprinted down the canyon, desperate to escape the carnage in her wake. Fire streaked over her shoulder and formed a wall in her path. She released speed for strength, and leapt, casting a shield beneath her feet. The barrier cracked from the heat but she emerged from the flames.
“Where do you think you will flee?” Teriah called. “There is nowhere for you to go, nowhere I cannot find you.”
Unleash me so I can slay her . . .
Whisper’s voice thundered in Alydian’s mind and she fought to resist. Teriah had killed hundreds of wounded Verinai without a thought, and if Alydian gave into the magic of rage she would slaughter without remorse. A stone hand flowed out from the wall at her side and reached for her.
She turned and punched the rock with her enchanted arm, and the stone hand exploded from the impact. Then she surged into a sprint again and leapt the mangled remains of the steel portcullis. Her heart sank as she realized Boulder Lake lay ahead, and when she left the canyon she would be in the open. She glanced back but the canyon was filled with fire.
“I relish your terror,” Teriah called. “But my rage yearns to extinguish your life.”
Alydian reached the end of the canyon and slid to a halt. Knowing it was futile, she screamed her defiance and called on the stone. The red phoenix shrieked its war cry, the chilling sound a proclamation of death. Then she brought her wings forward and fire sparked on her wingtips . . .
A green figure leapt from the canyon wall and soared across the bird’s back. A sword flashed once, slicing across the phoenix’s throat before she plunged into the stone again. Teriah’s fire cut off and she shrieked. Spinning, she sought the attacker but the figure was gone.
“You think a sting will stop me?” she screamed at Alydian.
As Teriah turned again the figure burst into view a second time, again leaping the canyon, her sword flashing across a wing. The wound spilled liquid flames as the blade cut deep. But this time Teriah turned and caught a glimpse of her attacker.
“Elenyr?” she called, surprise mingling with her anger.
Elenyr leaned out of the wall, her face appearing just feet from the red phoenix. “My bird was prettier,” she taunted.
Teriah shrieked and blasted the wall but Elenyr had already gone. As stone melted, Elenyr dropped from above, slicing Teriah across the eye. Teriah released an unholy shriek as Elenyr disappeared into the canyon floor.
Alydian took a step towards the conflict but another figure appeared. With huge wings on his back, the newcomer folded its wings and dropped to Alydian. Then she recognized him and her eyes widened.
“Raiden?” she asked, astonished to find him with wings sprouting from his back.
“Marrow gave me her other mind,” he said, and then twitched. “I’ll kiss her when I’m ready.”
With El
enyr and the red phoenix dueling in the canyon as a backdrop, she stared at Raiden, fighting the burgeoning emotions. Relief to find him alive gradually hardened into reality. Their future was gone. There was only duty.
“You’re in my way,” she said, pushing past him.
He caught her arm. “Alydian,” he said. “I don’t care what the future holds. I want to be with you.”
“How?” she demanded. “I cannot forsake my bloodline—even for the one I love.”
“We will find a way,” he said, his voice desperate.
“You knew and you didn’t tell me,” she growled. “You knew there was no future.”
“I know,” he said, flinching as fire exploded in the canyon and Teriah screamed anew. “I feared the distraction.”
“Truth is not a distraction,” she growled.
But it was, and she looked away, unable to rescind the lie. He reached to her and cupped her cheeks in his hands, forcing her to meet his gaze. Despite her anger, he held her bound by the intensity in his eyes.
“I love you,” he said softly. “I want to be with you—forever. I want your bloodline to continue, for it to be our bloodline. I know that even this can be solved as long as we are together.”
“We don’t have time for this,” she said, attempting to leave. “My mother . . .”
“Wants you to be happy,” Raiden said.
“At the price of my lineage?”
“We will find a way so your lineage will continue,” he said. “I swear it.”
She wanted to argue but found she couldn’t. His blue eyes held her bound, arresting in their certainty and hope. All the fear and doubt melted away, and whisper’s final shout reverberated in her skull. In that instant she realized that rage had clouded her thoughts since her escape, shackling her hopes, her courage. But rage had no power in the face of hope.
She stepped in and kissed Raiden, the bruising contact burning the vestiges of rage’s hold. Hope and love surged in its place, filling the breadth of her soul like a burst of light in a shadowed room. She’d escaped her cell months ago, but for the first time she was truly free.
He abruptly pulled back and scowled. “Telling me I’m a good kisser is really awkward, you know that?”
Alydian laughed at the absurdity of the comment, and when the sound faded she turned to the raging conflict in the Canyon of Mages. Her mother was nowhere in sight but Teriah had all but devastated the gorge in an effort to tear her asunder. Then a burst of green rose at Alydian’s side and Elenyr ascended from the road.
Holding a burned arm, Elenyr winced. “I gave you the time I could. It’s time to fight, daughter.”
“I’ve never been able to cast the phoenix charm,” Alydian said, eyeing the enraged phoenix. “And without the magic of rage I cannot stop Teriah.”
“You don’t need rage,” Raiden said. “Command the future and you will survive.”
Alydian felt a chill. The magic of rage had empowered her magic, but now she felt a different emotion, a perfect hope. As she marveled at the revelation a supreme confidence filled her soul, and she sensed the truth.
Rage empowered magic.
Hope empowered farsight.
“I was a phoenix,” Elenyr said, her eyes piercing. “But you have always been a dragon. Rise to your power, and defeat the true betrayer . . .”
Chapter 47: Hope
Teriah screamed her fury and launched herself at Alydian, lightning filling the canyon. Then Alydian gathered her magic, drawing on the water of the lake, causing it to swell and surround her body, lifting her free of the ground. The water spread from her arms into giant arms and solidified into claws.
Great wings spread from her shoulders, dripping water onto Elenyr and Raiden as they hastily retreated. The water gathered beneath Alydian, churning and shaping into enormous hind legs. She’d tried to cast the phoenix charm before, but it had not fit because that was not her identity. The mightiest of magic was not fire or wind, it was the acceptance of self, and the hope of becoming greater.
Within the supreme dragon charm, Alydian launched herself off the ground and soared into the sky. Teriah slowed at the sight, but her rage compelled her to strike, and she banked upward, fire spilling from her beak and wings.
They rose above the canyon to where the fading sunlight still touched the mountain. Alydian spun in the air as the fire passed beneath her. Then she folded her wings and dropped onto Teriah, who twisted, their arms and claws tangling. Alydian forced Teriah’s beak aside and blasted the phoenix with water.
The water and red lightning merged and detonated, sending them both tumbling away. Teriah struck the trees and they snapped like twigs, her great body blasting through canopy and trunk to collide with the earth, filling the forest with fire.
Alydian tumbled away, her link to her farsight shattered. She struck the side of a mountain and cried out, the stone cutting into her magic like a rod across her back. She rolled over the side but managed to hook a claw on the ridge.
Across the gap she watched Teriah rise to her feet in the midst of an inferno, sparks bursting off her wings. She launched herself into the air with an unholy shriek and flew towards Alydian, red fire and lightning spilling off her wings.
Alydian turned and leapt off the ridge, banking through the air to swing around the mountain peak. Doing so cut off the view and Alydian dived into her combat farsight. She spread her wings and swooped upward, where she twisted and unleashed a blast of frost breath, catching Teriah as she came into view.
Teriah shrieked, the explosion of frost and fire sending her hurtling towards the earth once more. This time she recovered before hitting and flapped for altitude. She shrieked again and Alydian answered in kind, her roar echoing off the surrounding peaks.
Teriah surged upward as the sky darkened above. The air gained a chill and the wind blew, picking up momentum as it churned into a tornado. Then a second appeared, and a third. Lightning crackled across the sky. Alydian folded her wings, dropping just as the bolt of lightning struck the mountaintop, blasting through the stone and sending boulders raining onto the forest, several bouncing into the crevasse that contained Verisith, causing the populace to flee the streets where they had gathered.
Fear robbed Alydian of her farsight and she struggled to regain her hope. Swerving around tornadoes and blasts of lightning, Alydian fought the storm. But Teriah used the storm as cover and appeared through a cyclone, bursting into view with a triumphant shriek. Red lightning streaked from her claws and struck Alydian in the chest, burning a hole through the dragon charm and searing across her thigh.
She cried out in pain and shock, her dragon echoing her sound in a roar of pain. Icy wind billowed through the hole, scrapping across her burned flesh to leave her in agony. She cast a healing charm and banked away, narrowly escaping two cyclones that sought to trap her wings.
She fought her pain and fear as she twisted and dodged, fighting to escape the maelstrom. But Teriah saw her effort and called on the sky again. Flaming lances of light rained down upon the forest, uprooting trees and flooding the scene with fire. Roaring, Alydian swerved to avoid the deadly rain.
But the sheer volume of magic had pushed the limits of the magic of rage, and Teriah’s phoenix shimmered, the fires beginning to cool. Alydian swerved back and pounced, raking her claws across Teriah’s back and spilling fire down the bird’s wings. But Teriah whirled, the flames brightening in an instant, revealing the weakness had been a feint. The bird’s shriek was tinged with victory as it unleashed its full power on Alydian’s dragon.
Alydian released the dragon and dropped out of the charm, allowing the spell to take the impact in the chest. The dragon shattered, the explosion a deafening thunderclap that rattled the trees on the ground, the ensuing ball of water engulfing Teriah.
Bereft of magic, Alydian plunged towards the earth. She screamed and fought to gather a new charm but her fear held her in check. The earth approached at frightening speed and she willed her magic to form, but the w
ings of air were still taking shape.
Raiden burst into view, catching her so close to the treetops that his boots ripped leaves from their branches. Gasping for breath, Alydian looked to her beloved, who strained to keep her aloft, his giant wings flapping for altitude.
“Raiden,” she breathed, her voice tinged with relief.
“I’ll always catch you,” he called over the wind. Then grimaced. “Do you ever stop talking? No, I’m not going to kiss her! No, it’s not romantic!”
“Look out!” Alydian called as a tornado carved towards them.
It struck them in the side and Raiden lost his grip, but Alydian had found hers. She caught the tornado and subverted the charm, wrapping it about her, shaping the wind into wings and a long body, becoming another dragon. She caught a glimpse of Raiden soaring upward and then flapped to Teriah. The red phoenix streaked towards her, the tornadoes and lightning converging on her flanks like a cage.
Alydian drew in her breath and focused on Raiden, on the hope she felt in his arms. Then she dipped into her farsight and swerved right, slipping between two tornadoes, her wings brushing the churning cyclones as they crashed in her wake. Teriah swooped around them and unleashed a war cry.
Alydian’s dragon was smaller than Teriah’s phoenix, but Alydian did not fight in the present, she fought in the future. Her mind just seconds ahead, Alydian swerved and twisted, evading torrents of fire by a hairsbreadth. Lightning lanced at her but passed behind, the charge blasting the ground. Then she swung back and drew on the frigid air to breathe a current of frozen air, striking Teriah in the side, darkening the red flames, freezing her enchanted flesh.
Teriah recoiled and dropped—but swerved and struck back, the magic of rage shielding her from pain. Red lightning exploded from her wingtips, narrowly missing Alydian as she gracefully banked away.
Their furious duel carried them between towering peaks and back to Verisith. Alydian dodged every spark and flame, her mind still in the future. Teriah unleashed a hurricane of fire and lightning yet Alydian slipped between the blasts, evading the deadly rain.