Mageborn 05 The Final Redemption

by Michael G. Manning

  Rose Thornbear had been silent since Dorian had left her side to take on the enemy, but the urgency of their situation had finally brought her back to herself. Her eyes took in the situation at a glance. “They haven’t closed the gate to Lancaster yet. We can still escape.”

  “The water is coming,” said Moira Illeniel. “We can’t reach it in time, even if Uncle Dorian had finished them already.”

  “Run for it anyway,” shouted Ariadne for they had no other options. Heeding her command everyone began running at their best pace, but it was readily apparent they would be far too slow. The noise of the oncoming water was growing steadily louder.

  Meanwhile Dorian’s foes had already sensed the imminent flood. They abandoned their attempts at defeating him and instead switched to delaying tactics, avoiding close contact, they danced around him. They knew the others could not reach the gate while they still fought.

  Ariadne’s party was forced to stop at a dangerously close distance of ten yards. Any closer and they would be caught up in the fray. The gate to Lancaster loomed temptingly a mere twenty yards farther on, but it might as well have been a mile. The furious battle raging in front of them was too terrifying even for the threat of drowning to force them closer.

  Dorian danced back and forth across the roadway, attempting with each movement to either catch one of his opponents or stop one from slipping past him. Unfortunately, the things he fought were nearly as fast, and they dodged and retreated, feinting on either side until it was clear he could not hope to catch them if they wouldn’t meet him directly.

  Penny glanced back, desperate to save her children, but there was nothing she could do aside from aid Dorian in preventing the fallen gods from slipping past. Lilly Tucker held her youngest, little Irene, while Peter Tucker was holding Conall by the hand. Her twins were standing close together, eyes on one another as if seeking reassurance. No, wait, thought Penny, they’re scheming.

  She had seen the expression on their faces far too many times while they were growing up. Matthew was leaning in to speak directly in his sister’s ear and the look on her face was far from one of fear or resignation. It was the look she got when she thought she’d heard a clever idea. Matthew’s hands made wide motions, pointing first down the tunnel in the direction they had come and then back in the direction of Dorian’s battle.

  Moira nodded vigorously at him, and a small smile fell upon her lips. A wall of water had already appeared, rushing at them from the rear. It was a liquid avalanche, a great wave seven or eight feet in height. Because of the locations of the flood gates the water coming from the other direction was still out of sight, but once the onrushing waves met the entire roadway would fill until it was completely full.

  The water should have crashed into them, driving them at breakneck speed down the corridor before drowning them, but something curious happened instead. Their party had gathered close to the outer edge of the tunnel, the side the Lancaster gate was on, and as the water reached them it slid oddly away from that wall, coursing sideways around them before continuing on. It split to avoid Penny and Sir Egan as well, but when it reached Dorian it re-converged, just a few feet past where he stood, slamming into the fallen gods with the force of a mighty hammer.

  Their enemies were swept away instantly, disappearing into the roaring whitewater.

  “Through the gate!” shouted Matthew as loudly as his small throat could manage. “She can’t keep this up forever!” Indeed, his sister’s face was a study in focused determination.

  Moira Illeniel’s brow was sweating despite the cool air, and her eyes narrowed as if she were in pain. Her brother had her by the hand and was guiding her forward, for she couldn’t spare enough attention to watch her own feet.

  Everyone caught on quickly. Penny and Egan rejoined the main group, simplifying Moira’s task, since she no longer had to maintain four separate protected areas. Now it was just the main group and Dorian. Before they could start in the direction of the gate, a monstrous grating noise sounded.

  The gate was closing.

  Whoever was in the control room had at last decided to rectify their mistake. The gate should properly have been shut before opening the flood gates; at least that was what Mordecai had intended when he built the whole thing. It appeared the operator was learning fast, however.

  Dorian was the closest to the gate, standing less than twenty feet from it already. Leaping forward his diamond blades pierced the bubble protecting him from the water and he flew over the waves to land beside the gateway. Stabbing downward with one arm he drove one of his blades into the stone roadway to keep the powerful flow from sweeping him away.

  Moira had reshaped her protective barrier, forming it along the sidewall to give them a narrow corridor to reach the gate. She expanded it to keep the water from entering the gate entirely, giving Dorian some relief from the pounding water. The massive stone door continued to descend however, and within seconds it would seal them within the World Road. They would find themselves trapped in a watery grave soon after that.

  The closest of them was Penny and even she was still thirty feet away.

  Dorian Thornbear stood then, and stepping into the gateway he spread his feet, braced his shoulders—and caught the descending monolith.

  The stone that descended upon him was almost two feet in thickness and ten in width. The bottom was wedge shaped and sharp, making it difficult to find a place to gain purchase on it. Its descent was controlled by the magic stored within the enchantment Mordecai had created, but it was clear that the magic was involved mainly in managing the pace of its closing at this point. The weight of the giant stone was immense, and untold tons of force drove it downward.

  It had been designed thus, along with the automatically recessing groove in the floor and walls so that it would be impossible to stop. Literally anything attempting to block or prevent its descent would be quickly crushed, allowing it to complete its task of sealing the path to Lancaster.

  But it hadn’t been designed with Dorian Thornbear in mind.

  The crystalline warrior lifted his bladed arms and punched upward, driving into the bottom of the stone as he spread his legs. The enchantment guarding the stone showered sparks around him as his diamond weapons breached it and then bit into the gate itself. It continued to descend, however.

  The others continued their mad dash to reach the gate, and as they ran they could see Dorian’s struggle. It seemed hopeless at first, as he was driven to his knees, and the door forced its way through his hands to bite into his shoulder, but then a miracle happened. Slowly, begrudgingly, the door came grinding to a halt. The gap between the bottom of the door and the groove in the floor was a mere four feet, but it was enough.

  Penny led the way, followed by the children, one by one, running easily under the great stone. Elise and Ariadne were next, hunching to avoid banging their heads, and they were followed by Rose and then the men. In the space of less than a minute they were all through. Lancaster and freedom seemed close at hand.

  But Dorian was trapped.

  Cracks appeared, tracing their way through his chest but he stubbornly refused to give up. The red gem in the center of his chest pulsed with an ever increasing pace and the door steadied again, but he could not lift it. Dorian’s hands were trapped by the blades he had driven into the stone and looking down they could see that his feet had also created fractured holes in the stone floor.

  Azure gems stared at them, but they focused on one person alone. “Rose…”

  Rose handed her daughter to Elise and took a small step toward her husband before her resolve shattered. Weeping like a child she moved beside him and tried to help lift the great monolith that was slowly crushing him. “Help me!” she shouted at the others. “We have to stop it! Penny, Egan, you’re strong! Help him!”

  Penny and Egan both knew the door was far too heavy for them to make a difference, but they stepped forward and began pushing as well. They were unable to get an effective grip but Penny
knew deep down that even if they had, it wouldn’t have mattered. The door continued its descent.

  “Go. Live. Rose…,” said Dorian in a voice that seemed deeper than the earth.

  Gram had escaped from the adults and now he was beside his parents. “Don’t worry Dad! We can stop this!” The door was low enough now that he could attempt to brace it as well, not that it helped noticeably.

  “You’re right, Gram!” responded Moira Illeniel, and the others could sense a change as she began using her power to brace the door. Water began running into the corridor as she shifted her strength and attempted to block the flood as well as assist in lifting the gigantic gate.

  The door continued to settle farther downward, and more water escaped to wash through at their feet. Moira Centyr watched in despair as her daughter struggled to aid them, but even her child’s impressive strength was not enough. If only I were the true Moira Centyr. If I had her power, I could find a way to stop this. Her mind raced to find a method by which ordinary wizardry could save him, but her thoughts ran frantic circles around themselves.

  A sudden flare of light startled her, and it took a moment before she realized the light she had seen was not physical, but magical. The powerful glow indicated the presence of another wizard, but she was confused at first as to who was its source. Matthew! The stress has released his gift.

  She watched him in wonder for a moment. He’s strong—like his sister. No, she corrected herself, like his father.

  “Let me help, Moira,” Matthew told his sister, taking her hand. The two of them locked gazes for a moment before returning their eyes to the stone door, and the earth began to shake. The floor beneath the door itself splintered and cracked under the magical pressures they were exerting, and for a long minute their power gave the others hope.

  It was a false hope, however. Though Moira Centyr no longer had her power, she still retained her magesight, and with it she could easily gauge the weight of the gate-stone, along with the power behind it. It would not be denied. Their best hope might have been to destroy it or find a way to derail it, but there was little time. Blood was trickling from her daughter’s ear now, and she was certain that Matthew was already beyond his limit as well. In the end she had no other choice.

  “It’s impossible! The God-Stone powers the gate. They’ll die if they don’t relent! You have to make them stop!” she shouted, directing her words at Penny.

  Egan heard her words and nodded at the Countess, “She’s right. Take Gram, I’ll get Lady Rose.”

  Without hesitation Penny left her place and took the boy from his father’s side. He cursed and bit at her all the while. She had little time, so handing him to Stephen Balistair she addressed her two oldest children, “You have to stop. It’s too great. If you force yourselves, the backlash could kill you.”

  Matthew and Moira’s eyes were glazed and they looked straight through her. Their focus was perfect and unbreakable. Penny had seen the look a few times before on Mordecai’s face, usually right before something terrible happened to him. He slept for days after the battle in Lancaster Castle. They might not be so lucky.

  Behind her, Rose was begging Sir Egan to let her remain, but she was unable to resist his powerful arms. “Please! Just let me stay. It doesn’t have to be this way. We can stop it. Please!!” Her sobbing words were full of tears and desperation. She had abandoned any pretense at dignity. All that remained was a woman beyond hope, facing a future of desolation and solitude.

  “Rose—don’t,” said Dorian, grating out the words. Yanking one hand free of the door, he struggled to push her away without cutting her with the blade on his arm. His body had become a weapon and ill-suited to tender gestures. “Don’t—let—Gram—be—like—me.” The cracks in his body were widening, and the door was steadily inching downward again.

  His frantic wife had dissolved to a place beyond reason, and her voice was a constant stream of plaintive cries, ‘I love you’s’ mixed with screams of denial, until neither were distinguishable.

  “I—love…” Dorian began, but his words ended abruptly as his massive chest shattered, and the stone gate slid inexorably downward, grinding the remnants in its path into smaller pieces and knocking the larger fragments aside. The twins’ magic had collapsed, and they fell senseless to the ground. Blood ran from both their noses now.

  Dorian Thornbear was dead.

  If there were any true justice in the universe, a silent darkness would have covered them, to hide their grief and show reverence to the knight who had died. The world is unkind however; the tunnel they were in was well lit by the same enchanted lights Mordecai had placed throughout the World Road. They stood now on the Lancaster side of the gate, in a small fortress built less than a mile from the main castle.

  The light that had been so welcome before now seemed harsh and cruel. Everyone but the twins now stood, dumb with shock and overcome by emotion. Rose Thornbear was the first to move, shoving Sir Egan away from her with an unintelligible curse. She followed it with a more clearly spoken warning, “If you ever lay hands on me again, I’ll see you dead!” Her anger was so great that she punctuated the scornful threat by spitting in his direction.

  No one spoke, or tried to console her, though Egan attempted an apology, “I’m sorry. There was no other way.”

  Moira Centyr and Penny were examining the twins, fear writ plainly on both their faces—two mothers who shared the same worry.

  Unseen and unwatched, Gram Thornbear scrabbled through the stone fragments on the ground. Among the broken paving stones were brilliant shards of razor sharp crystal, the remnants of his father. His eyes were blurred with tears, but a carmine glimmer caught his notice and reaching out he found what he sought. With trembling fingers he gingerly picked up the giant ruby-like stone that had been Dorian’s heart. He slid it into his pouch before anyone could notice.

  Steps in the gravel told Gram his mother was close and turning, he accepted her embrace. Elise Thornbear joined them a second later, and together they mourned, wife, mother, son and even infant daughter, though it would be many years before little Irene could fully understand her loss.

  Chapter 31

  The sunrise was slow and unremarkable; a slow lightening of the horizon with little of the colorful pigmentation that poets and lovers are so fond of. It had been three days since my last leave-taking, and I had arrived in the wee hours of the morning.

  If Karenth had followed my instructions, he would be arriving any minute.

  I waited patiently, senses alert. In particular, I was watching for the appearance of several powerful beings. It was almost half an hour after the sun broke over the horizon before I was rewarded with their arrival.

  A smile crept over my face when I sensed them. I had fed a few hours before, and my emotions were fully functional, so my sense of satisfaction was enjoyable. They were trying to cloak their presence, muting the brightness of their aythar. None of them had anything like the gift that the Prathions had, so the best they managed was to dim themselves to an almost human level.

  It might have fooled an unsuspecting wizard, one less sensitive, or less skilled. I was none of those things, and I was expecting them in any case.

  I sat quietly on a long wooden bench in one of the royal gardens at the palace. There were no wizards in the capital, and while Tremont did have a number of what I thought of as ‘god-seeds’ guarding the place, none of them were near enough to spot me. Flying down to have a meeting in the garden by the palace seemed an appropriate way to start the plan to get rid of the usurper.

  Two men and one woman approached, all of them cloaked and covered. The morning air was crisp, but they were more concealed than the weather called for. “Can I help you?” I asked as they stopped in front of my bench. The garden was empty but for the four of us.

  Abandoning their attempts at disguise, they tossed their hoods back, and I felt their aythar wash over me. One of the men was Karenth, the other was Doron, and standing with them was Millicenth
. The power they radiated had probably alerted every sensitive being in the city. The weight of it seemed to press down upon me even through the protection of the armor I still wore. In the past I might have felt fear, but being dead, I was now immune to some worries.

  “You were a fool to trust Karenth, mortal,” said Doron, gloating. “You have delivered yourself into our hands.” He leaned forward, seeking to use his still excessive body size to intimidate. He had obviously gained little in the way of wits since our last meeting.

  Millicenth looked more properly wary, but she still felt secure with the two other gods beside her.

  Not daring to wait, I uttered two strange, seemingly nonsensical phrases. Both of my new guests stiffened as they recognized the words. “How?” asked Millicenth.

  I was in no mood to answer questions. “How is of no consequence,” I replied. “You are mine now, just as Karenth is. Bend your knees if you understand me.” Gratifyingly, both Doron and Millicenth genuflected.

  “You meant them, right?” asked Karenth with a sardonic smile.

  “I did,” I clarified for him, then I spoke to the others once more, “Rise. There is much to discuss.”

  “Karenth was your tool all along,” murmured Millicenth, thinking aloud.

  “He was,” I agreed, “and now you are as well. If by some miracle I succeed, then I will grant you what you wish when this is done.”

  “You think you understand our desires, mortal?” she asked with a curious glance. Her eyes had changed color, swirling into a sea green.

  “He is no longer mortal,” declared Doron, staring at me with interest.

  She dismissed her dimmer companion’s remark with a wave of her hand, “His current state is not the point. His existence has been short and ephemeral until now.” Focusing on me again, she continued, “Tell me, dead man, what do you think we should desire?”

  Her attitude annoyed me to no end, and for a moment I was tempted to punish her. My control was absolute, which enabled me to humiliate her in any number of ways, but I restrained myself. She was too intelligent to be brought to heel with childish punishments. “I can unmake you,” I replied simply.