Mageborn 05 The Final Redemption

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Mageborn 05 The Final Redemption Page 40

by Michael G. Manning


  Traveling back, they covered the mile they had lost and soon were within half a mile of the area where Mordecai had been. Walter had replaced their semi-invisible shield, but he had reduced the amount of light and aythar that they could sense even further. He was taking no chances.

  Then he closed it completely, leaving them flying through what seemed to be an endless black void. “I can’t tell which way I’m going,” complained Karenth.

  “Turn around and head toward the ground,” said Walter. “I’ll give you enough to see a bit on your way down. We can’t go any closer in that direction.”

  “I felt nothing,” said Millicenth.

  Gareth spoke then, “Mal’goroth has arrived.”

  “I would have felt that,” insisted the goddess.

  “My magesight is far better than yours at a distance, Lady,” the archmage told her. “Especially when we’re cloaked in this shield.”

  The goddess didn’t reply.

  Carefully, Karenth made his way to the ground, and as soon as he had set talon to earth Walter resumed his absolute invisibility, sealing them away from all sight and magic.

  “How close are we?” asked Penny.

  “Too close,” said Walter, “less than half a mile probably.”

  “We can’t help him if we can’t see,” she pointed out.

  Gareth interrupted, “Exactly. We can do nothing.”

  “That isn’t why we came,” she argued.

  “Then you’re deluded, Countess,” said the archmage sternly. “What you failed to sense, while Walter’s shield was faintly open, is that there is a being beyond it that can crush us with nothing but a thought. The very fact that you can breathe right now is only thanks to the amazing gift your wizard here possesses. No human could produce a normal shield strong enough to prevent just the pressure of the aythar out there from crushing your will.”

  Penny chewed her lip. She hadn’t caught even a hint of the sort of pressure she had once felt when confronted by one of the gods. It gave her new respect for Walter’s special gift, but at the same time she was frustrated by their helplessness.

  “What should we do now, Countess?” asked Millicenth demurely.

  “We wait.”

  A sudden booming rumble echoed across the valley, sending vibrations through the ground. “We should probably excavate a bit,” suggested Karenth helpfully. “It might be best to be slightly below the ground level.”

  They agreed, so the god of justice used his power within the confines of Walter’s invisibility shield, making a six foot depression in the soil.

  More booming noises followed, leaving them to wonder, blind, at what might be happening.

  “It should have stopped by now,” declared Doron, puzzled.

  “Why?” asked Walter.

  Karenth took up the question, “Because of their relative strengths. Mal’goroth should have finished it within seconds.”

  “He’s playing with his food,” suggested the Lady of the Evening Star.

  “No,” said Gareth, “they’re still fighting. There wouldn’t be so much noise if it were that.”

  Penny had taken a seat on the ground. She held a hand in front of her face, but the darkness was absolute, and she couldn’t see it at all. Listening to the conversation around her she struggled to retain her composure. Think about something else, she told herself, but it was hopeless. In the black earth she felt tears begin to roll down her cheeks, and for the first time she was grateful for the darkness.

  Another rumble rolled out, shaking them in their hidden cavity.

  “How is he doing that?!” said Doron, still incredulous.

  “The man has an amazing proclivity for surprises,” observed Gareth dryly.

  A rosy light began to filter in, and they could see a painful expression on Walter’s face.

  “What are you doing?!” shouted Gareth. “He’ll find us!”

  “The mist,” said Walter as sweat rolled from his forehead. “Help me.”

  Able to sense the outside world again, Gareth felt the red spellwoven mist that Mal’goroth had summoned. It had covered their niche, and like some strange acid it was devouring Walter’s shield. His body relaxed, and his eyes unfocused while the red haired archmage reached out, listening to the voice of the earth. A moment later it flowed over their small pit creating an earthen ceiling. They were fully entombed now.

  Walter’s face relaxed as he restored the shield. “That worked,” he said after a second. “But being completely under the ground will make us noticeable. It won’t matter if we’re invisible once Mal’goroth notices a strange empty bubble in the earth.”

  Gareth’s voice answered him in the darkness, “He won’t find an empty place. The earth believes this place is whole. It will not betray us.”

  “I wish I understood how that worked,” said Walter wistfully.

  “Me too,” said Gareth honestly.

  The earth continued to shake until at last it seemed to jump under their feet, threatening to dislodge their makeshift ceiling.

  “That had to be it,” said Doron with a hint of something like hidden glee.

  The world grew silent, and then an even greater blast shook them. Minutes passed and nothing happened. Penny thought of her children, and began to regret her decision. I’m stupid. We’re going to die, and I’ll have accomplished nothing.

  In her memory she heard Mort’s favorite saying, “Stupid never dies.” Inside she was wound so tightly that the phrase, which she had never thought much of before, almost made her laugh.

  That was when the screaming started.

  The first was impressive, an agonized cry of someone being tortured, but the second, which came a half minute later was so loud that it seemed as though the world itself was dying. Penny’s hands were over her ears but they hardly diminished the sound. Worse, she could recognize the voice. Mercifully, Walter adjusted his shield to prevent sound from entering as well.

  In the silence, there was no solace.

  ***

  Time passed slowly, with nothing to mark it. In their dark and silent womb the world had ceased to exist. Deprived of her senses Penny’s mind began to create sights and sounds to fill the emptiness. At first they were small, imaginary noises or half-heard phrases, some accompanied by a sudden image or a flicker of light, but as time dragged on, they grew more real.

  “It’s over now,” said Mordecai, sitting beside her.

  She ignored the illusion, for she knew her mind was playing tricks on her.

  “I’m sorry,” he added.

  Why? You did nothing wrong, she protested mentally.

  “For everything,” he said, answering her thought, “for hiding so many things from you in the past, for failing to protect you, for all of it. I tried to handle everything myself and now it’s all gone to hell.”

  “You were always an idiot, but I don’t think it’s your fault,” she said then. “You didn’t create Mal’goroth.”

  Walter was startled from his own reverie, “What?”

  “Nothing,” she told him quickly.

  “I did create Mal’goroth,” said Mordecai, continuing. “Or at least I gave him the power that set this all in motion.”

  Are you talking about the war with Gododdin? She asked silently.

  “You were there with me, you remember it,” he said sadly.

  You had no choice.

  “There’s always a choice, Penny,” he said softly. “Sometimes we just don’t see it.”

  What would you choose now, if you could change all this?

  “To be at home with you, watching you brush your hair, listening to the children talking in their beds, hoping we will think they are sleeping.”

  The last remark was too much for her and she shook her head. “Please Walter, let some light in. I think I’m going mad.”

  Gareth agreed as well, “I too am tired of facing my phantoms. Just give us a glimpse.”

  Walter returned the outside sounds first, waiting to make certain every
thing was quiet above. Gareth eased their earthy roof aside, and then Walter began to let some light, and more importantly, a faint amount of aythar, pass inside.

  “Mal’goroth has moved. I can feel his pressure emanating from the castle now. Their shield seems to be down as well,” said Gareth. “He’s quite far; you can probably release the invisibility.”

  “I still can’t sense anything,” said the older wizard.

  It didn’t take much convincing, although Walter still removed their concealment gradually. They emerged from their dark pit into a world that looked as if it had been scoured by a giant hand.

  “Is there any sign of Mordecai?” asked Penny nervously.

  “No,” said Gareth in a tone that brooked no doubt. The red haired archmage was confident of his senses.

  Walking carefully over the torn earth and upturned rocks, they began walking in the direction where the battle had taken place. They had gone several hundred yards when Gareth spoke again, “I see something.”

  “What?” asked the Countess.

  “A body,” he answered. “It must be him. There is so little aythar I mistook it for the ground when we were farther away.”

  Narrowing his eyes, Walter chimed in, “I can feel the body, but there’s no aythar there.”

  The red haired archmage was already striding forward, “It’s there, just a faint bit that comprises the spellweaving inside him. You’ll feel it when we get closer.”

  They found him draped across a smooth stone that had been uncovered by the turmoil. His body lay supine, with eyes staring at the sky blankly and while it was in one piece, it was torn and ripped. The skin and flesh looked as though it had been savaged by some wild beast, but there was no blood. It was the dry and damaged husk of a man who had died more than a year gone past.

  Chapter 44

  I, Mordecai Illeniel, awoke.

  My eyes were already open, but I hadn’t been able to see through them until that moment. My ears also began to report sounds, and gradually I realized someone was walking toward me, several someone’s in fact.

  Above me the sky was a brilliant blue. The sun shone again now that Mal’goroth’s black attack was done. My body felt wooden, as though it were dry and stiff. Idly I tried to move my arm, but nothing happened.

  Last time I didn’t wake until my body had absorbed enough aythar to restore itself, I thought, remembering the day I had awoken under a mound of dead insects. The memory itself seemed like a dream however, as if it had been someone else’s awakening. This one felt far more real to me.

  A red haired man’s head blocked the sun for a moment, peering down at me. He looked vaguely familiar, but I had trouble placing him. He moved out of my line of sight, but my eyes weren’t able to track him. Aware of my magesight now, I felt him step back, closer to the people with him.

  That’s Doron, Millicenth, Karenth, Walter—and Penny. The gods were easily recognized by their powerful aythar, but Penny and Walter were a surprise. The stranger felt similar to Gareth, but his aythar was subtly different. Why is Penny here?!

  The thought brought a shock of fear and alarm. She was supposed to be hiding. She was supposed to be safe, at least for a while anyway. In a panic I tried to speak, but of course my mouth wouldn’t move.

  “What was that?” said the stranger, leaning closer to me.

  Penny drew closer as well. Her aythar was warm in a way that the stranger’s was not, and although he radiated a powerful aythar, it was hers that seemed to call to me.

  “It’s awake somehow,” noted the man. “I can feel a consciousness.”

  “It?!” said Penny, somewhat offended at the usage.

  “It,” he repeated. His voice sounded maddeningly familiar to me. “The simulacrum that thinks of itself as your husband,” he added to clarify.

  “You said he can’t die, because of the spellweave,” reminded Penny.

  “Die, that much is true,” said the stranger, “He can’t die. It’s the awareness that puzzles me.”

  “Why?” she asked him.

  “Because the essential feature of aythar is awareness,” he explained carefully. “Everything possesses it, even the stone he is lying upon, but the type of awareness is determined by the level of aythar.”

  Pointing at the ground, he spoke as though he were in a classroom, “The earth below us, for example, its aythar is very small for every ounce or pound. It is hardly aware of anything, but added up, it comprises a huge consciousness. One that is so far removed from you or me that it is almost completely alien to us.” Moving his hand, he indicated Mordecai’s body. “This body however, contains hardly anything more than does the stone it rests upon. The magical sentience that controls it shouldn’t be conscious.”

  Listening to him expound on magical theory gave me my final clue. It’s Gareth, but he’s human!

  Walter was leaning close now, peering at me. “I felt it,” he agreed calmly, “a flicker of something. I think he’s listening to us.”

  Of course I’m listening dammit. You’re talking into my ear. I was beginning to find being spoken of in the third person annoying. You look old, Walter, I added. Somehow the rude observation made me feel better.

  Penny was fully beside me now, her face only inches from my own. The feeling of her presence was like a warm balm soaking into me. Her hand reached out, but before it touched my face, Gareth had caught it.

  “Careful!” he warned her.

  She gave him an angry glare, “Why?”

  I silently cheered for her, you tell that bastard!

  “He’s still a shiggreth,” said Gareth. “Even now his body is slowly absorbing aythar. If you touch it…” He glanced around, looking for something to illustrate his point. Unable to find an insect, he settled for a torn clump of grass that was still green. Placing it on my chest he told them, “Watch.”

  My eyes still wouldn’t move, so I couldn’t look down, but I knew what they must be seeing. The grass was turning gray. The thought made me feel ashamed. After everything I’ve been through, this is the greatest indignity yet, having them display my corruption for her to see.

  Her voice came back defiantly, “He’s my husband. He won’t hurt me.”

  “I doubt it would be intentional,” said Gareth, “but in his current state he may not be able to control himself.”

  “Allow me,” said Millicenth unexpectedly. “I can prevent him from taking much. A small amount should help restore him,” said the goddess, and before Gareth could reply she reached out and placed her hand on my chest.

  I could feel my body tugging fiercely at her, but only a trickle of aythar emerged. The Lady of the Evening Star’s will was far more powerful than mine, and she controlled her energy flow with great precision. She had been designed that way, long ago, by Moira Centyr, to make her an effective healer.

  As the aythar flowed into me, my body began to awake, returning to a more human-like state, but the world was growing dimmer, fading. A darkness was rising around me, the prison of Lyralliantha’s spellweaving. It had been weak, thin, deprived of all but structure by Mal’goroth’s hand, but now it was gaining strength. I could feel another mind stirring, one similar to my own, yet different.

  “Stop,” I managed to croak through dry lips.

  Thankfully, the goddess withdrew her hand.

  Something wet fell on my face, and I realized Penny was crying over me quietly. She urged me, “You need more. Your body is healing. Let her help you.”

  “No,” I said, struggling to make my stiff mouth form the word. I could feel my other self, shifting, confused. Brexus, I realized. The aythar had roused his awareness as well as restoring my soul’s prison. He was trying to regain control of his speech.

  The strange duality of my existence returned to the foreground of my memory as I recalled the bizarre events of the past few months. I had awoken many times, sometimes in a lonely darkness, accompanied only by thoughts that sounded like my own, but were in fact a stranger’s. On one or two occasions thou
gh, I had been able to see through his eyes, trapped like a passenger on a runaway horse, observing with no power to affect his actions.

  Awake now, I could remember everything he had done, but it felt strange. Like the memories of the loshti, they were there, but they were not my own.

  “No more, it will trap me again,” I said, desperately hoping she would understand.

  My wife stared at me with uncertainty. “What can I do?”

  “Where is Peter?” I choked out.

  Her expression changed from puzzlement to annoyance, “I should have known. You still have a scheme don’t you.”

  In her irritation I could sense a glimmer of hope. She still believed in me. She thought I had an answer. That insight pained me more than I had expected. Unable to hide my despair I told her the truth, “He promised to kill me.”

  Eyes wide, she stared at Gareth, who came to the same conclusion. “The knife,” he said at once.

  Penny’s reaction was more specific, “Someone has to stop him!”

  “No,” I uttered, not that anyone was listening.

  “He should be in your hidden sanctuary, wherever it is located,” said Karenth. “If you tell me where it’s at, I can fetch him.”

  My foolhardy wife began describing it to the best of her ability, giving away the general location of my greatest secret almost immediately. “That’s hundreds of miles from here,” he replied in frustration. “Even flying, it will take me more than a day.” He was already rising from the ground on wings that had sprouted from his back.

  “You’ll never get there in time,” said Gareth, but the deity had already taken flight.

  He thinks he’ll be trapped if I die, I observed. Karenth doesn’t know I gave Gareth the keys to unmake them. That made me chuckle inwardly. The god of justice had caused me enough trouble in the past; he deserved to panic for a while.

  “It will take him days searching those mountains, even if he knows the region,” said Millicenth disapprovingly.

  I saw Gareth’s head turn in the direction of Cameron Castle. “The pressure is growing. Mal’goroth is moving in our direction.”

  Penny seemed unaware, and even Walter was surprised. “I can’t feel anything yet,” he announced.

 

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