Borne Rising

by Matthew Callahan

  Restoring himself amongst the flows, Will prepared to move back to the front line but then he hesitated. There were warriors aplenty, but no one could heal them the way he could. A surgeon’s toolkit, Cephora said. He could be that. He could support them and keep them safe. This is how we get the upper hand.

  Shyldd roared and, as one, the Seekers pressed forward and broke the Necrothanian line. The cultists scattered, scrambling back at the sudden charge. They fled around a curve in the tunnel. The Seekers chased after them. Hot on their heels, Will saw that the passage ended only a short distance away, opening up into a larger cavern. That better be the damn place.

  He saw a flash of lightning tear through the darkness of the vast chamber. He smiled. The others had already reached the cavern. The Necrothanians were caught between them.

  Nearly there. Just a little bit farther and—

  “Noctis, come quickly!” Rienne shouted. “We’ve got them on the run!”

  A torrent of blue fire tore through the cavern. Somehow, despite the fury and cries of battle, Will heard the roaring laughter of Jero din’Dael. We’re close. Will wiped the fangs on the blood-spattered robes of a dead cultist and sheathed them. He raced to the end of the tunnel where the exhausted Lightborne filled the room with their Flares.

  The battle was taking place along the lip of what seemed to be a large crater. The crater, however, ended in a sheer drop-off that had no visible bottom. A long, narrow bridge connected the edge to a small island of rock within the center of the abyss. And there, in the center of the stone island, sat an ancient door. Will paled.

  “Light’s fall,” Shyldd cursed at his side, his thoughts obviously mirroring Will’s. “That’s a bloody Waygate.”

  The Necrothanians had found another entrance to the Ways.

  He did not have time to dwell on the discovery. The Borne who had supported him up to this point were finally exhausted, their Flares expended. Steeling themselves, they drew their blades and charged alongside the Seekers into the fray. Will’s gaze darted over the opposing forces. They were still outnumbered.

  Will braced to leap down to the fight. But before he could move, his key screamed angrily at his chest with a force that drove Will to his knees. Will’s hackles rose and he grabbed Flint. Something was wrong.

  A terrible scream echoed through the cavern. Will saw one of the Borne—Letrhe, his name was—fly through the air. He’d been impaled through the chest and he crashed against the ceiling of the cavern before falling to the ground. Will was trembling, but not from the terrible death nor from the grip of his key. Whatever had impaled Letrhe had been made of pure Shadow.

  “Shadowborne!” someone screamed off to the side. “There’s a Shadowborne among them!”

  Valmont. He’s here.

  Will forced himself to his feet and stared at the mass of Shade that enveloped the Necrothanian force. They poured over din’Dael’s Lightborne like a wave, cries of pain erupting from within. His key screamed again. Will’s Flare rippled along his cutlass and Flint’s broken blade. He peered through the throng and followed the storm of motion to the heart of its source. There! He found the Shadowborne, noctori dancing gracefully and brutally through the air, cutting down all in their path without pause—Borne and Necrothanian alike.

  Will’s heart raced as the Shadowborne moved with brutal efficiency. Too small to be Dorian Valmont. Realization dawned on Will. “Aurellaine.”

  Pausing as though she heard him, Aurellaine Valmont whirled and met his eyes from across the cavern. Her face was covered by a shroud, her head covered by a hooded cloak. She gripped her noctori and stared Will down through wide eyes that were black as her Shade. Rage boiled within Will as he thought of the years she had manipulated his brother under the guise of the false Ileta. No longer.

  Will Flared and stepped forward. Aurellaine held out a hand to him, fingers splayed. Despite the distance, he could have sworn that she winked. Then she closed her fist. Fire erupted. Everything touched by her Shade instantly turned to ash, friend and foe alike. The fire was black, like Shadow, but there was no mistaking the power of Radiance at work. The clouded darkness of the Shade darkened to a deep purple and black lightning spun within the shroud of death.

  He had seen this power before. Will knew it. It was his. She’s like me.

  “By the Hesperawn . . .”

  Will turned to see Rienne at his side, blood covering her face and arms. Will grasped her arms, forcing her to look at him. “Rienne, get out of here. Get as many of the Borne as you can and get them out of here.”

  She tore her gaze away from the wave of death and met his eyes. Her own were brimming with tears. “I was wrong. I said no one could be both. But I was wrong.” She raised a bloody hand and placed it on his cheek. “I’m sorry.”

  “Rienne, you’ve got to—”

  The roar of the blast knocked Will back a few steps. Rienne was caught by it, full force. The brunt of it took her just beneath her right arm. The lightning-laced shadow tore through her torso, blasting away armor and flesh alike. Rienne’s eyes widened, and she gave a soft “oh!” before her expression grew vacant and slack. She crumpled to the ground, folding unnaturally to the side as Will cried out. Her head hit the ground hard but the vacant eyes did not even blink.

  “No!” Will shouted, dropping to his knees. “No, gods, please. No . . .” He scrambled for the blades at his waist, reaching for the flows of the bloodstones, but they passed over Rienne like oil over water.

  Chaos erupted in the chamber as Will hovered over Rienne’s dead body. She was twisted and broken, her lifeless eyes still seeming to stare up into his own. They seemed more surprised than anything, like her last moments had been filled with disbelief rather than fear. His hand clasped at unresponsive fingers.

  Another raging surge from his key sent Will spasming to the ground. For a moment he lay there, letting the pain take him. His shoulders shook, his body wracked by so much death. Yet despite everything, his eyes remained dry.

  Aurellaine.

  Mechanically, Will pulled himself to his feet. He’d seen the same power that Aurellaine Valmont wielded when he’d faced—killed—Senraks. It explained the blast of Radiance that disabled the van just before the fight. Very well, then. If Aurellaine was Borne of both Radiance and Shadow, then that meant that somehow, somewhere within him, Will was too.

  A cracking sound from above tore him from his thoughts. He glanced up and leapt out of the way of a stone plummeting from the roof of the cavern. The huge slab slammed onto the ground where Rienne’s body lay, covering her remains in rubble.

  Furious anger filled Will. Hands clenched into fists, he whirled and found himself face to face with Jero din’Dael. He was bloody and his skin was ravaged, fresh wounds covering his already marred arms.

  “Your fangs, use them.”

  “Aurellaine,” Will choked out. “She—”

  Din’Dael’s slap cut off the words. “Forget the woman, William. The blood fangs, quickly!”

  Will stared at the man in surprise but obliged him. He swept the flows over din’Dael in a wave. The Revenant cried out, wincing and recoiling against the pain, but he stayed on his feet. In a moment, the worst of the wounds had faded but din’Dael still shuddered beneath the flows.

  “Not . . . me . . . you fool.”

  Realization dawned on Will. He spun and raced to the ledge, surveying the scene. The Lightborne were nearly in full retreat. The Seekers, exhausted and outnumbered, were slowly being overwhelmed. Aurellaine stood across the cavern from him, no longer involved in the battle. In fact, she seemed remarkably disinterested in it. She clutched something in her hands, an aged stone box.

  Sliding down the slope, Will closed the distance to his allies. He neared the Waygate and, still running, tugged at the flows of the bloodstones. As soon as he got within range, he pushed out with the invisible tendrils and set his focus on Shyldd. The fierce expression of shock and renewal within the burly man was such a stark contrast to din’Dael
’s recent cringing that, in any other circumstances, Will would have burst out laughing.

  But this was no time for laughter. He whirled from Shyldd as the huge warrior brought his great sword down through two cultists at once. Will tugged the flows from Shyldd and careened them into a nearby Seeker whose arm hung limp and bloody at his side. It twitched and stuttered, then sprang back to life. Will wasted no time, swiftly moving back and forth down the Seekers’ line. The reinvigorated warriors pressed forward, their battle fury driving the Necrothanians ever farther back.

  Feeling their power ebb, Will began to refill the bloodstones from the corpses of the fallen. He showed no discrimination between friend or foe when his fangs met flesh. The Lightborne, having fallen back when the Seekers pressed forward, stared at him in horror. The lives of the fallen urge on those of the living, he told himself. They would want to aid their allies.

  Will brought his blades down into another corpse while the fighting raged on. Compelled by something he couldn’t explain, he glanced down. He froze. He’d just plunged his fangs into Letrhe’s lifeless body. The pang of loss smashed into him again, Rienne’s empty eyes and charred corpse from whatever Aurellaine had done to her. Aurellaine . . . Will spun.

  She was attempting to slip away in the chaos. The dark-clad woman stood apart from the Necrothanians save for two reapers. They towered over her, twisted, broken forms from the reaches of his nightmares. They’re guarding her, he realized. Her and the box.

  Dread sank its cruel fingers into Will’s throat. We need that box.

  The reapers who followed her were the only additional protection she had. Will spun, searching for din’Dael, but the Revenant was nowhere to be found. But he did see Shyldd. The large man had stepped back from the front line, dragging one of the Lightborne behind him. Will saw that the Borne was young, someone he didn’t know, but the boy was missing his leg from the knee down.

  Will darted to the pair, whipping the power of the bloodstones onto the boy’s shattered limb. The Lightborne screamed in agony, then quickly faded from consciousness. Shyldd glanced up as Will raced toward him.

  “Shyldd,” he shouted over the thunderous roar of battle. “Shyldd, we’ve got to stop her.”

  The Seeker gaped at Will. “Aye, but you’re a bloody sight, Davis.” Shyldd propped the young Lightborne up against a rock and laid a hand on the unconscious boy’s shoulder. “You’ll survive, son.”

  “We’ve got to stop her!” Will shouted again. “She’s trying to get away.”

  Shyldd stiffened suddenly and turned his attention back to Will. “Her? You mean that bloody witch? There’s nothing for it. She’s behind the line and those bastards are making quite the stand of it.”

  Will glanced back at Aurellaine. Realization dawned on him. “Behind the line and making for the Waygate.”

  “Damn!” Shyldd wiped blood from his forehead with his arm but only succeeded in smearing it. “Whatever it is she’s clutching at, we shan’t be interested in her making away with it.”

  Will thought quickly, eyes flicking about the battlefield. “Can you get word to Cephora?”

  Shyldd eyed him. “Aye, I may be able to do that.”

  “She can get us there.”

  Beneath the bloodied face, Shyldd’s flashing grin looked unnaturally white. “Aye, that she can.”

  Will turned to stare at the retreating Aurellaine. Rage fueled him. The air was alive with fire and static. You don’t get to win. Not today.

  34

  Borne Rising

  Shyldd ran for the front line. The Lightborne had rejoined the Seekers, their Flares expended but not their strength of arms. Sending one last wave of power from the bloodstones over his allies, Will scrambled back against the crater’s wall. He could see din’Dael’s forces in the distance, pressing the Necrothanians back into Shyldd’s path.

  We’re going to survive this.

  Will’s key went wild. A split-second later, the air crackled and boomed with thunder. Will clapped his hands to his ears and ducked, sparing only the briefest glance toward Aurellaine. Again, she had unleashed whatever devilish power it was that she wielded. But rather than aiming for the combined force of Seekers and Lightborne, she had aimed directly for the ceiling of the cavern.

  Eyes widening in horror, Will stared as the roof cracked. He held his breath—it’ll hold. Come on, hold, hold—but, in slow motion, the crack spread. Bits of stone began to rain down. Will cried out, shouting for his allies to fall back, but none seemed to hear him. The cracks spread and the roof split into giant, deadly boulders. Too late, those below realized what was happening. Stones plummeted, crushing bodies indiscriminately. A cloud of dust plumed throughout the cavern and covered the crater, obscuring the Waygate.

  Will coughed and sputtered into the folds of his cloak, keeping his face buried. His ears rang from the deafening roar of falling stone. He shook his head and looked around. The dust was so thick he could hardly see anything. The eerie silence that followed was broken by pain-filled cries and the occasional trickle of stones falling against themselves. There was no movement to be seen, not from the Necrothanians or his own people. All were buried under the stones.

  But not Aurellaine.

  Will saw the silhouette of the woman creeping away from the rubble. Only one of her reaper guards remained with her, the other having been crushed by the falling ceiling. Fury flooded through him.

  “William,” Cephora’s voice coughed from nearby. “Wait for us.”

  He spun, the power pouring forth from the blood fangs before he even laid eyes on her. Cephora breathed deep when the flows took her, letting the rejuvenating power cascade over her. She wasn’t alone, Will saw. Grimy from blood and dust, she and Shyldd both stumbled toward him. But no one else.

  “Shyldd, did anyone—”

  “No time to worry for that now.” He was bleeding profusely from the side of his face and his left eye was red and bloodstained. He spat red on the ground. “We’ve got to move quickly.”

  Will moved the healing energy from Cephora to Shyldd. Barely had the wound upon his face healed than the flow ran dry. Will grit his teeth. Typical. “They’re empty.”

  “It was enough,” Cephora said. Shyldd nodded at her words.

  Will sheathed the blood fangs and drew Flint and the cutlass. He gripped the blade and rolled it in his hand. Flint tingled against his palm, beating in time with the pulsing of the key at his chest. He could feel Aurellaine’s eyes fixed on them. “The box. Whatever she’s got, we get it away from her.”

  “Aye.” Shyldd nodded. Aurellaine made a curt gesture. The creature at her side turned toward them, putting Aurellaine at its back. “That’s quite the beastly reaper she’s got there with her.”

  Cephora’s laugh quickly turned into a cough, but she smiled nonetheless. “That, Shyldd? I’m sure Will can handle it.”

  “No.” Will’s glare was fixed firmly on Aurellaine’s retreating figure. Rienne’s death was etched into his mind. Aurellaine’s lying and manipulation of his brother fueled the rage. She pays. Now. “I’m going after Valmont.”

  Cephora’s bloodied smile turned into a frown. Before she could speak, Shyldd hefted his blade and spoke.

  “Aye, well. You’ve got the Relic. Seems we’ll be on the bloody Necrothanian then.”

  “The Relics.” Cephora cursed. “Will, I know what you’re thinking. If that box is a Relic, whatever you do—don’t take it.”

  Will snapped his head back around to her. “What? Why the goddam hell not?”

  “Because it will kill you,” said a hollow, slurring voice.

  All three turned. Jero din’Dael, Revenant of Light, limped toward them. His left arm trembled, the emerald glow from his hand flickering, crushed fingers unable to make a fist. Worse, though, was his face. In his mind’s eye, Will saw the man who killed his mother, saw Madigan’s baseball bat colliding with his skull. Din’Dael was in much the same condition. His left cheek hung torn along his jaw and Will could see the
Lightborne’s teeth through the gaping wound.

  “Jesus, Jero,” Will said. “The fangs, they’re tapped. I can’t—”

  “Go.” Din’Dael spat a gob of blood and teeth to the ground. “Kill her, but do not let your blood touch the Relic.”

  “My blood?” Will suddenly remembered the lesson. Blood will bind a Relic to a man. But attempt to bind oneself to multiple will result in the force of the powers obliterating the host. He realized that he had no handle on which blood was his own and which was that of the cultists he’d slain or allies he’d tried to save. The power of Flint coursed through him, urging him onward. “Dammit. I’ll keep my distance.”

  Din’Dael fell to his knees, coughing. He winced, sword clanging to the stone floor as he supported himself with his good hand. “Go, William.”

  “Aye, we’ll pry the damn box from the fiend’s corpse, shall we?” Shyldd said. His eyes hardened. He hefted his blade and took off running across the fallen stone, bearing straight for the Necrothanian.

  Cephora dropped to a knee and set her hand upon the ground. Instantly, a rift appeared on the ground before them. “I’ll get you as close to the Waygate as I can. Go, Will.” Her tone brooked no argument. “There is little time.”

  Will’s dread at the thought of more rifting was nothing compared to his desire to stop Aurellaine. Without a word, he stepped forward. The world became a swirling cacophony of angry wind and roaring darkness. He tumbled through the void, falling—and then felt himself slamming against stone.

  His head swam. Absently, he reached for the flows of the bloodstones only to come up short. Right. Empty. Cephora had done it though; Will was leaning upon the stone base of the Waygate, the door at his back. With dry, scratchy eyes he saw Aurellaine Valmont a short distance away on the narrow stone bridge. Beyond her, he saw Cephora racing toward where Shyldd battled the reaper. For Will, though, there was nowhere to maneuver, nowhere to run.