Darkblade Guardian

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Darkblade Guardian Page 111

by Andy Peloquin


  The Hunter dodged a vicious knee strike aimed at his groin, only to have Kalil’s elbow crack into his chin. His head snapped backward with enough force to send a twinge down his neck. The room whirled for a moment, and before he could recover, Kalil darted backward, gripped the spikestaff in two hands, and drove the metal tip through his breastplate and straight into his heart.

  Pain blossomed in his chest, and dark red warmth spilled down his torso. His heart hammered in his ears as life pumped out through the wound. Yet the Hunter refused to fall, refused to let the darkness take him. He forced his legs to remain upright, staggering forward as the smaller Bucelarii tore the spike free. A numb chill spread through the entire left side of his body, but enough sensation remained for him to feel Soulhunger’s hilt grasped firmly in his hand. With all the speed he could muster, he lashed out with the dagger.

  Soulhunger’s edge caught Kalil’s forearm, and the razor-sharp steel opened a long, deep furrow that ran from elbow to wrist. Kalil cried out in agony as the crimson gemstone flared to life, consuming his blood. The spikestaff fell from his hands as the smaller Bucelarii stumbled backward. The Hunter seized the momentary distraction and drove his heavy boot into Kalil’s face. Cartilage crunched beneath the impact, and crimson gushed from the Bucelarii’s shattered nose and split lip. Kalil fell back, unconscious. Without hesitation, the Hunter drove Soulhunger into his chest.

  Kalil screamed, and crimson light burned bright in the towertop chamber. A finger of fire etched a line into the Hunter’s chest as Soulhunger consumed the young man’s life force. Not even a Bucelarii could recover from wounds inflicted by an Im’tasi blade, which consumed them to their very souls. Sorrow washed over the Hunter in tandem with the flood of power. He had just killed one of his own kind. One of the last of his kind.

  “Kalil!” Fury glimmered in Cerran’s eyes as he watched the smaller Bucelarii collapse. “Take the boy!” He gave Hailen a shove that sent the boy stumbling toward Taiana, then whipped out his own spikestaff and came for the Hunter.

  The Hunter had a split second to whirl before the charging Cerran was on him. The red-bearded man lacked Kalil’s speed, but he more than made up for it with brute strength—strength that surpassed the Hunter’s own. The metal-shod end of the spikestaff slammed into the Hunter’s left arm with enough force to shatter bone, and the Swordsman’s iron dagger clattered from his grip. The spiked tip drew a line of fire across the Hunter’s forehead as it whirled past, then a second line across his right leg.

  The Hunter gave ground, gritting his teeth against the pain in his broken left arm and lacerated leg. With Soulhunger alone, the Hunter had no hope of fending off the far longer, heavier weapon. Cerran could simply keep out of reach and bludgeon him senseless. He had to find another weapon, something that could bring down the Bucelarii.

  He dodged a vicious thrust aimed at his gut and crashed into the altar. His back twinged, but when he caught himself, his hand came away wet. Even as he ducked Cerran’s next attack, he realized what it was. Hailen’s blood, dripped by the Sage onto the stone surface. The blood of the Serenii.

  The Hunter dove beneath a swiping attack and grunted as the spiked tip tore a gash into his right shoulder. He rolled to his feet and took two quick steps toward the Scorchslayer Taiana had dropped, only to find himself face to face with Taiana herself. The woman had retrieved the halved end of the spikestaff he’d hurled at the Sage and now held it to his throat. A single twitch, he knew, and she would open his throat. Cerran would be upon him before he could heal himself. It would be over—for him, for Hailen, and all the people still trapped in the Pit far below.

  “Please,” the Hunter whispered. His gaze flashed to Hailen, then back to Taiana. “Think of Jaia.”

  A single moment of hesitation, then something seemed to click into place within her black eyes. Her shoulders relaxed and the tension drained from her face.

  “For Jaia,” she whispered, then pulled back the spikestaff to strike.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  The Hunter didn’t flinch as Taiana whipped the halved spikestaff forward. But instead of driving it through his chest, she hurled it past his head. Cerran’s cry echoed with more surprise than pain.

  “Traitor!” he snarled. Fury turned his face the same flaming red of his hair and beard as he tugged the spikestaff free of his shoulder and dropped it, dripping Bucelarii blood, onto the obsidian floor. “After everything we worked for, you turn your back on us now? You were the one who pulled us free of those Chambers, who recruited us to Kharna’s mission.”

  “I know.” Taiana nodded. She took a step forward, placing herself between Hailen and Cerran. “I am willing”—she shot a glance at the Hunter—“was willing to sacrifice all of those people in Khar’nath to accomplish that mission, but maybe Drayvin is right. What if there is a better way?”

  “If there was, don’t you think Kharna would have found it by now?” Cerran’s eyes flashed. “He is a bloody Serenii, Taiana. He’s smarter than all of us combined, and he’s had five thousand years to think about it.”

  “The Serenii are creatures of logic,” the Hunter said. “They would look for the simplest, most rational solution to achieving their goals.”

  “Which is saving this whole damned world from that!” Cerran jabbed a finger at the rift into chaos. “Surely that seems like a fucking logical plan.”

  The Hunter shook his head. “Logic alone dictates that killing a million humans is justified if it saves others.”

  “I’d bloody say it is!” Cerran snapped. He flexed his shoulder, as if testing to see if the flesh had healed.

  “But what if one of those lives was your child’s?” the Hunter persisted.

  “Never had a child!” Cerran’s eyes darkened. “Never had the chance before the bloody Cambionari locked me away.”

  “If you’d had one, you’d know.” Taiana spoke in a quiet voice. “You’d know there’s nothing you wouldn’t do to protect them. You’ll kill for them. Die for them.”

  “What about condemning the world to die?” Cerran shouted. “Is that worth the life of one child?”

  The Hunter and Taiana exchanged glances, and he saw resolution in her eyes. “We find another way,” she whispered. “For Jaia.”

  “For Jaia.”

  The humming in the tower grew louder, so loud it rattled the Hunter’s bones and drowned out all sound in the Illumina. The runes in the altar flared to an impossible, blinding brilliance, filling the chamber with violet light. Cerran’s gaze darted toward the altar, and his eyes narrowed as he caught sight of the blood—Hailen’s blood, not yet dried—on the stone.

  Time slowed as the Hunter saw the red-bearded Bucelarii’s body coil like a spring. He knew what would happen if Cerran activated Enarium—he’d seen it in his memories, the white lightning that would rip the people still within the Pit to shreds and consume their life force. It would add to the power of the Er’hato Tashat gathered by the Keeps, but still it would not suffice to feed Kharna. All those people would die for nothing, and the rift to the Devourer of Worlds would remain open.

  The Hunter poured every shred of strength and speed into his muscles. He leapt toward Cerran even as the man turned toward the altar. His outstretched arms wrapped around Cerran’s midsection, and he drove his shoulder into the man’s gut with enough force to knock the man away from the block of stone. The two of them crashed into the blue gemstone pillar in the heart of the chamber.

  The Hunter’s mind recoiled as he felt the presence trapped within that pillar. The reality-shattering creature within was nothing but seething fury, a single-minded hatred of all things living. Life meant order, and order was the antithesis of the Destroyer. That cosmic entity desired entropy above all. The end of all things.

  A shudder ran down the Hunter’s spine. Kharna and the other Serenii had sacrificed themselves to stop it, but it hadn’t been enough. The Devourer of Worlds, the Beginning and End of All Things, wanted more.

  He would give it m
ore, but not Hailen. Not the innocent people in the Pit.

  A sharp pain in his ribs snapped him back to reality. He grunted as Cerran drove a fist into his breastplate again, this time denting the metal. He twisted aside from the follow-up strike, then lashed out with an elbow. The bony point caught Cerran just beneath the eye, tearing flesh and shattering bone. The red-bearded man’s face swelled up, and the Hunter struck the same spot again. Cerran let out a cry and shoved the Hunter hard.

  The push flung the Hunter from atop the man, but he managed to stumble to his feet. Before Cerran could recover, the Hunter brought his foot swinging around. The tip of his heavy boot cracked into the side of Cerran’s head. The Bucelarii sagged, unconscious.

  The Hunter stared down at the senseless man, breathing hard. Agony flared in his chest—Cerran had to have cracked his breastbone and at least one rib. Added to the injuries in his shoulder and leg, his Bucelarii healing abilities would be reaching their limits. Yet he had a moment of reprieve.

  He turned to Taiana. “We need to get him to a Chamber of Sustenance, need to lock him back up to sustain Kharna.”

  Sorrow filled Taiana’s eyes, but she nodded. “It is the only way.”

  The Hunter crossed to her in two quick strides and took her hand. “You know we made the right choice, stopping them. We couldn’t let them kill the boy or the people below.”

  “But what of Kharna?” Taiana asked. “He cannot fight the Destroyer alone.”

  “No, he can’t.” As the Hunter said it, he knew what he had to do. “I will fight with him.”

  Taiana’s eyes flew wide. “What?”

  Peace washed over the Hunter as he met her eyes. He had wandered Einan for five thousand years—how much of that time had been spent lost, aimless, searching for a purpose? Yet now he had a purpose. He had come to Enarium to find his wife, his child, and answers about his past. He’d found all of that and more—he’d found a hope for his future. Not a future spent as a killer-for-hire, but a fight that actually meant something.

  “It is my turn to sustain Kharna.” With those words, all trace of tension and anxiety drained from his body and mind. “It is your turn to live life as it was meant to.”

  “No,” she breathed, horror filling her black eyes. “You cannot mean…”

  “I told Kharna I would find another way.” A smile spread his lips, one filled with genuine happiness. “This is the way. Adding my life force to that of the Sage and Cerran, Kharna can continue the fight against the Devourer of Worlds until the next Withering.”

  “But that’s five hundred years!” Taiana said.

  “Five hundred years for you to find another way to sustain him.” The Hunter squeezed her hands. “You know what needs to be done, and I have yet to meet anyone in the world—man, demon, or god—more stubborn than you. You are the hope for the future of Einan. For the future of our daughter.”

  “No, Drayvin.” She shook her head, and tears streamed down her cheeks. “You cannot do this to me. I just got you back!”

  The Hunter found his own cheeks wet. “You’ll know right where to find me when the time comes.” He gave her a wry smile. “I won’t be doing much traveling for the next centuries.”

  “But Jaia needs you!”

  “No, she needs you.” The words tore at the Hunter’s heart, but he knew they were right. “To her, I am a stranger, not even a faint memory. You are her mother. Whatever has happened to her, whatever she has endured throughout her life since being freed, she needs you to show her the way. Show her how to be strong, how to survive, yet how to be as wonderful, caring, and brave as the woman I fell in love with so long ago.”

  “But I need you,” Taiana whispered.

  “And I need you.” The Hunter pulled her close. “I have spent a lifetime searching for you. If giving up a few hundred years of my life means I can ensure there is still a world we can share, I will do it in a heartbeat.”

  He clung to her, basking in the moment of peace before the inevitable. He had no desire to spend a moment apart, yet he would give up everything for her. For Jaia. For Hailen. For people like Farida, Bardin, Master Eldor, and Garnos. People who proved to him that mankind—for all its flaws and faults, its vices and malice, its cruelties and indignities—was worth saving. Not every man and woman, but enough of them. He was no hero, but a killer, a fighter. He would fight the Devourer with every shred of his strength until Taiana found another way to seal the rift.

  Triumphant laughter echoed behind Taiana, and the humming in the towertop grew deafening. Crimson light blossomed from the gemstone pillar in the heart of the room, filling the chamber with its brilliance.

  A surge of power washed over them, knocking them from their feet and hurling them to the ground. The Hunter instinctively reached for Hailen and found the boy crouched behind one Chamber of Sustenance, eyes squeezed tightly shut and hands clapped over his eyes. The coffin-like capsule had shielded him from the blast.

  The Hunter tried to push himself upright, but the power washed over him with the force of a tidal wave pounding against a rocky cliff. He could barely lift his head, twist his body to see the Sage standing over the altar.

  “Listen to that! There is no sound like it in the entire world.” Elation sparkled in the Sage’s eyes—which had deepened to solid black. Tendrils of inky, swirling darkness crept from his eyes, running like spiderwebs around his face. The taint of the Destroyer.

  “You are too late,” crowed the Sage in a voice far too resonant and powerful to have been formed by a mortal throat. “My victory was fated from the moment these creatures entered this pitiful world. Your struggles are futile, for you cannot triumph against fate!”

  With every shred of strength, the Hunter levered himself up to his elbows. The pulsing power threatened to knock him down, but he leaned into them. He marched into that hurricane of magick, stubborn, unyielding as ever.

  “There is no fate!” he shouted. “No destiny. There is no grand purpose in life, no heroes or villains. There are only choices. I choose to fight. I choose to defy you, Devourer of Worlds!”

  The Sage turned to the Hunter, and the Hunter recoiled at the sight of his eyes. It was no longer simply a black color there, but seething, twisting chaos like was visible through the rift. “ORDER CANNOT TRIUMPH AGAINST CHAOS.” A voice echoed through the Illumina with enough force to set the Hunter’s head pounding. “ENTROPY IS THE WAY OF ALL THINGS.”

  Harsh, booming laughter burst from the Sage’s throat. “I WILL DEVOUR!”

  The Sage slammed his uninjured left hand onto a gemstone, and blinding light slammed into the Hunter.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  The Hunter blinked away the tears until the world slowly swam into focus. The humming within the Illumina had grown nearly deafening, and the power around him made it nearly impossible to stand. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to his hands and knees, then his feet.

  His gut clenched as he saw the glow emanating from the Chambers of Sustenance fade. The Sage had severed the connection, and with it the power that sustained the Destroyer’s gemstone prison. A loud crack echoed loud in the room as fissures appeared in the pillar. The rift within widened as well, the tendrils of chaos seeping outward, reaching dark, swirling fingers toward freedom.

  A hand gripped the Hunter’s his arm. He turned to see Taiana. Her mouth moved but the deafening humming drowned out her words. Grasping her wrist, he pulled her closer and placed his ear to her lips.

  “We have to turn it back on!” Taiana shouted. “The Illumina must remain active, or the Devourer gets free.”

  “How?” the Hunter shouted back.

  Taiana thrust a finger at the console. “There,” she mouthed.

  With a nod, the Hunter released his grip on her and staggered upright. The pulsing waves of power slammed into his chest, sending him stumbling backward, but he caught himself on a Chamber of Sustenance. His eyes went to Hailen crouching beside the stone base. He had to stop the Sage for the boy’s sake. For Ja
ia’s sake. For the sake of everyone in Einan.

  Gritting his teeth, the Hunter drew in a deep breath and pushed himself off the now-darkened Chamber of Sustenance. A wave of magick struck him, but he leaned into it. The pulse was rhythmic, like the beat of a giant heart. There was only a single second between each swell, but that was enough.

  One step. Another. Two steps forward, then a stumbling step backward. His eyes fixed on the Sage, the look of triumph that stained the once-demon’s face. The sight sent anger rushing through the Hunter and lent strength to his muscles.

  If the Sage won, the world ended. The moment the pillar shattered, the rift would be free to unleash its chaos. Life as he knew it, and all existence on Einan, snuffed out by the Devourer of Worlds.

  He roared into the wind, a bestial cry drowned out by the throbbing power. Yet the rage spurred him onward. Two steps, three, five.

  The Sage’s eyes, twin orbs of swirling chaos, fixed on him. “I WILL CONSUME!”

  “Like bloody hell you will!” The Hunter gripped the edge of the altar, held tight as a wave of power washed over him, then leapt. He pulled with all the force of his arms and pushed with every shred of strength in his legs. In that single instant between magical pulses, nothing held him back, nothing slowed him down. He was a creature of blood and battle and death once more. He was the unstoppable Hunter surging toward his prey.

  He slammed into the Sage like a charging horse, and he felt ribs snap beneath the impact. The Sage only laughed—an inhuman, monstrous sound. Chaos swirled from his mouth and eyes, tendrils of black reaching toward the Hunter.

  The Devourer’s voice poured from the Sage’s lips. “AS I WAS THE BEGINNING, SO I AM THE END OF ALL THINGS.”

  The Hunter drove a fist into the demon’s face, shattering bone. The Sage—or the Destroyer within him—didn’t flinch. His swirling black eyes never left the Hunter.

 

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