Did the end justify the means?
No, that wasn’t the right question. The end he had planned couldn’t justify anything. Did the terrible injustices of the past justify destroying the present and possibly the future as well?
He played until he was empty and the notes drew out, dying away into near silence, and then he filled the emptiness with his desire. For a moment he saw Eldin and Inara playing once more and his fingers faltered, but he did not stop. Taking a deep breath, he fought on and refused to let the images in his head throw him off. Thoughts of his children filled his heart and behind it all there was a hint of coppery red hair and sparkling eyes.
The music rose like a phoenix from the ashes of his desolate soul and despite everything that had come before it still bore a hint of hope.
And then it ended.
Opening his eyes, he found Kate staring at him. Her cheeks were damp, but the tears had already stopped. He felt ashamed, both of the music as well as what it had represented, and the fact that he had inflicted his suffering upon her, “I’m sorry.”
“No! Don’t be, not for that,” she told him instantly. Her hand was on his cheek, “Don’t be sorry. That’s the first time I’ve seen the true Daniel in a long while.”
He gave her a weak smile, “You aren’t dancing a jig.”
“Who could dance to that!? It was as if you ripped my heart out and set fire to it. I wouldn’t know where to begin!” Pushing the instrument out of his lap she put her arms around him. “But it was beautiful, Daniel, and the ending felt as though the sun had come out from behind the clouds after a storm.”
“The storm is yet to come, Cat, and I’m not sure there will be anything left of me for the sun to shine upon once it has passed.”
She squeezed him tighter, “Don’t be so gloomy. We are both coming through this, together until the end. History can judge the rest.”
“History will not look kindly on me. The best I can hope for is that somehow it will forget me.”
“Shut up, idiot,” she said gently. “Keep playing like that and you will find a way to make the hope at the end of that song true, for both of us.”
Tyrion knew that was impossible, but he kept his silence. In two days we will take our next subjects from the Centyr. There was no turning back, and no amount of music would change that.
A presence on the other side of the bedroom door made him aware that he hadn’t activated the privacy screen around the room. Turning his attention to his magesight he discovered Sarah, Layla and Blake were standing outside, leaning close to listen through the door. Standing up he crossed the distance and threw it open before they could retreat.
Their faces were an open book. Sarah appeared to be in shock, Layla seemed as though she might be near tears, and Blake seemed happy for some reason.
“Did you need to talk to me?” asked Tyrion.
Sarah stepped back, embarrassed and shaking her head, but Blake answered, “Glad you’re back.”
***
“Why are we waiting?” complained Layla. “The longer we are here the greater the risk of discovery.”
“I need to do some investigating,” said Tyrion, repeating his response from earlier. “And you know better than anyone that no one could find us behind your concealment.”
“Maybe this looks easy to you, but it gets tiring after a while,” she replied.
“Please, Layla, let him have some peace. The sooner he can focus the sooner we can find our targets and be away from here,” soothed Emma.
Tyrion linked hands with his daughter and let his awareness drift downward as he listened to the earth. His self expanded and Emma felt the transition as he shifted from human to other. It was difficult to maintain the link with him, especially while she felt the urge to follow, but she kept her mind fully within the bounds of her own skull.
Minutes creeped by but before an hour had passed he returned. Layla could see it in the change in his posture even before Emma let out a sigh of relief and released her father’s hand. “Did you find whatever it was you were looking for?”
Tyrion blinked, still not entirely himself, “Yes. It’s vast, and very close here.”
“What is?” questioned the former warden.
“The blood of the earth,” said Tyrion. “A sea of magma so vast it could drown this part of the world.”
Layla frowned, “Mamga…?”
“Magma,” corrected Emma.
She stared at the younger woman, “That still doesn’t tell me what it is.”
“Molten rock,” explained Tyrion, “so hot it has become a fiery liquid. It’s everywhere, if you go deep enough, but in some parts of the world it comes particularly close to the surface. According to the surveys of the ancients there was a super volcano here, but I needed to confirm it for myself.”
“Now you’re just making up words,” said Layla with a combination of confusion and disgust. She held up a hand when he started to explain, “No, just tell me why you care. This place is miles from where the Centyr Grove begins. The land is too hard here for the She’Har elders. How does this super magma of yours help you?”
Emma stepped in, “It will make it easier to create a disaster to cover our abductions.”
Tyrion shook his head, “No, it’s too dangerous. We will have to make a storm instead. See for yourself.” He reached out for Emma’s hand.
Taking a deep breath, she linked herself with him and then let her own mind expand. Reaching down into the earth she explored her new body and what she found would have amazed her, if she had still been capable of such a feeling. When she returned to herself she stared at her father, “How could such a thing exist?”
As her humanity returned Emma felt small and insignificant. With her special gift that was not a new feeling for her, but this time something new came with it—fear. She was keenly aware that they stood on a thin skin of earth that barely contained what was the geological equivalent of a massive bomb. She simply couldn’t imagine what would happen if it were to be released.
“We should leave,” said Emma. “It isn’t safe here!”
“Relax,” said Tyrion. “According to the ancients these things don’t erupt often. It probably won’t do anything for tens of thousands of years.”
“Things?!” said Emma. “There’s more than one? How are we alive? How is anyone alive?”
Her father smiled, “Because life endures, and while one of these going off might blacken the sky and kill off untold amounts of plants and animals, the world recovers.”
“How many are there?” asked his daughter, struggling to suppress her fear.
“They knew of at least seven large ones,” he told her, “scattered around the world.” He glanced at Layla, “Come on. Let’s find our targets. I’ve seen what I wanted to see here.”
Chapter 22
The first place they chose to wait turned out to be a waste of time. By necessity they had to pick a place beyond the edge of the grove, and not within another grove, since they didn’t dare risk being near any of the elders when they made their move. For the portion of the Centyr Grove that they knew how to get to the only region remotely like that was the area with volcanic activity. The She’Har elders had chosen not to put down roots there, for obvious reasons.
Unfortunately, the area was also unlikely to draw many visitors. Scalding calderas and noxious gases plagued much of the region. They wasted an entire day waiting in one spot that was reasonably hospitable without ever sensing the presence of one of the She’Har.
The next day they scouted the region more thoroughly, until by chance they found a hot spring located within a grotto. The water was hot but pleasant and it was shallow enough for wading. The entire thing was surrounded by thick brush and small trees, giving it an oasis-like feeling. It was much farther from the edge of the grove than the place they had waited at before, but there were already a number of the Centyr present when they found it.
Rather than try attacking them then and there, they left and re
turned in the small hours of the morning, before the sun had yet risen. An ambush would give them the best chance of success.
They were hoping for a small group. The day before they had detected only four or five relaxing in the spring, so they set their trap there, keeping their own numbers small to make hiding themselves easier.
Tyrion created one of his special cavities in the rocky ground beside the spring, enlisting the earth’s assistance to make it undetectable to magesight. It wasn’t the same as invisibility, but until he opened it and dropped their unsuspecting quarry into it with them they wouldn’t be noticed. He waited there, with Bangor, Ryan, and Emma. As an extra precaution Layla, Jordan, and Brigid hid near the trail that lead into the grotto, using Layla’s talent for invisibility.
If things went well, they wouldn’t be needed. If they didn’t, it would be their task to make certain that no one escaped to report what had happened. Needless to say, Brigid wasn’t happy about being on reserve duty, but she did what she was told, after a certain amount of arguing.
It didn’t help that they had to wait until midday before anyone appeared to enjoy a hot bath in the scenic spot.
Three men and two women came tumbling down when the ground opened beneath them. One of them was quick enough to react that she managed to create a spellweave to cushion their landing, but none of them could have expected the humans lying in wait for them.
Emma performed her role with surgical precision, identifying the males and drilling rapid-fire holes through their skulls before they could recover their bearings. Two of them were dead and the third just beginning to open his mouth in surprise when her final attack tore through his brain.
Over the course of the last few assaults it was a role that she had naturally fallen into. While Brigid was unabashedly lethal, she was not very discerning. Emma could pick her targets rapidly and her lance-like attacks were precise.
Ryan watched without acting, ready to support her if necessary, or to assist his father if his own job proved to be too much for him. Bangor also held back. The Mordan mage was only to act if necessary. His job made him too valuable to risk in combat, and he wasn’t especially skilled if it came to that anyway.
Tyrion’s job was one perfectly suited to him, subduing the ones they would take captive. It was a task that frequently took brute force to accomplish, as well as the ability to restrain himself once the target was suppressed.
Tyrion swept the two women across the small rocky chamber with a broad stroke of power, slamming them against the wall with bruising force. His attack was anything but focused, it took the already dead bodies of the males along well, not that they were capable of noticing anything now.
Stepping forward he wrapped both of their throats in bands of force, choking them with calculated malice, enough that the women reacted instinctively, attempting to protect their ability to breathe rather than having time to think or strike back.
“Ryan,” said Tyrion calmly, waving his hand at the woman to his left. His son immediately moved to assist, taking over her restraint and crushing her mind inward before she could attempt to spellweave.
Tyrion did the same with the one on the right, but he took it a step further. Trusting Ryan he focused his attention and as soon as he had his target subdued he drove inward. The Centyr She’Har proved to be exceptionally resilient to his usual attempt at forcing a captive into unconsciousness. Despite his greater strength it was impossible to pin her mind down, it continually slipped away from his grasp. Instead of continuing the mental struggle he pinpointed the area he wanted and before she could gain the upper hand he cauterized it.
His victim slumped to the ground, twitching.
Turning back, he found Ryan struggling. His captive was beginning to turn the tables around. If it had been a normal fight the young man would have had no trouble, but attempting to keep the woman alive put Ryan at a serious handicap. While he tried to keep her will trapped she kept slipping past his assault and attempted to get into his mind.
“Wait,” barked Tyrion, directing his command to Emma, who was already preparing to kill the She’Har woman to protect her brother. Stepping closer he slammed his fist into the woman’s jaw, stunning her and allowing Ryan a moment to recover.
While she staggered, he took the opportunity to do the same thing he had done to the other, cauterizing the part of her brain that fed aythar to her seed-mind.
The fight was over.
Emma leaned over the two women, “What did you do to them?”
“It’s part of what I’ve been working on,” answered Tyrion. “I cauterized part of the speech center, that’s what controls the flow of aythar to the seed-mind. She won’t be able to spellweave now. It also disrupts their ability to talk.”
Bangor chuckled, “An added bonus…”
Tyrion and both Emma and Ryan glared at the former warden. He closed his mouth and then Ryan resumed the conversation, ignoring the comment, “That’s all you need to do?”
“That’s the first thing,” clarified Tyrion. “They can still sense and use aythar at this point, or they would, if they weren’t in shock. Once we get them back I will finish by cauterizing another place to nullify their purely human abilities.”
“Why didn’t you do that part first?” asked Ryan.
“Can’t,” answered Tyrion, “the seed-mind starts causing all sorts of problems if it isn’t deprived of aythar, eventually it kills them, and quite painfully too.” Glancing at Bangor he gave an order, “Take them back and put them in stasis before you return.”
The Mordan mage was sullen as he put a hand on each of the She’Har women’s shoulders and promptly vanished.
“Father!” shouted Emma. Her warning ended the conversation as they all became aware that they were no longer alone. Twelve more She’Har had arrived while they were distracted and were now encircling their hiding place. They had already seen the end of the combat and they wouldn’t be taken by surprise.
Apparently more than one group had come to enjoy the hot springs.
“Shit!” swore Ryan.
Tyrion was already moving. Channeling his power downward he leapt straight into the air as he shouted, “Shield yourselves!” He sailed skyward through the hole above them and landed several feet to one side. His jump had been carefully controlled to avoid sailing too high and making himself a target.
Despite his quick reaction their foes were already prepared for him, two glowing spellbeasts flew at him from either side. Others were heading into the hole after Ryan and Emma.
The magical constructs were four-legged and cat-like in form, and equipped with long claws and teeth, but they still couldn’t penetrate Tyrion’s enchanted body shield. His arm blades were out and slicing even as they reached him, but he couldn’t prevent the sheer speed of their rush from bowling him over as he cut through them.
A long line of spellwoven power shot toward him with the speed of a striking snake, wrapping itself around his torso before he could recover. A split second later it was followed by several more. The She’Har had been ready for him.
Ryan started to come to his aid but Emma caught his shoulder, her mind reaching for his as their skin made contact. They had practiced fighting while linked many times in the past and he accepted the familiar contact instinctively.
They communicated on a level deeper than words and in that timeless moment of adrenaline Ryan realized he had been about to commit to a terrible mistake. The other spellbeasts were already blocking his path and he would be caught just as quickly as Tyrion had been.
Their eyes met and their hearts beat once more before the world exploded around them. Emma sent the rock and stone that encased their small chamber flying outward in a stunning display of force. She was not the strongest of Tyrion’s children, but her power was not to be dismissed lightly.
The flying stone shards and other debris might have killed the She’Har, but they were already prepared with spellwoven shields. The chaos and dust did serve to distract them howe
ver, as four different copies of Ryan raced out of the hole amidst the confusion.
Spotting the difference between an illusion and reality was something most survivors of the arena learned quickly, or else they didn’t survive for long, but for the children of the She’Har that faced them the rush of combat made it difficult to react appropriately.
Two of the lines holding Tyrion vanished as their wielders tried to avoid the sudden appearance of Ryan’s illusory clones. It wasn’t quite enough to free him, though, his arms were still tightly bound by two others, until the real Ryan cut through one of them.
The spellbeasts were on him immediately afterward, however. Ryan ignored them, knowing they likely couldn’t penetrate his defenses, but their physical presence was a problem anyway. He was knocked to the ground and savaged fiercely.
Tyrion had cut his way free now and charged toward the She’Har closest to him. He almost made it before another spellbeast knocked him aside, and then his intended victim focused directly on him. A focused spellweave, shaped as a spear, caught him on the ground before he could recover his feet. Unable to dodge, the alien magic tore through his defense and impaled him, punching straight through his abdomen.
Three others had corralled Ryan and were close to taking him down when a gout of superheated steam rose from the nearby spring and blasted through the She’Har, neatly avoiding the area where Tyrion lay on the ground. It swept over Ryan who had already prepared an impromptu shield to keep the hot gas from entering his personal space. It also caught most of the She’Har.
Emma had hoped that their enemies hadn’t prepared their shields to deflect gases, and she had been correct. Spellweaving was too slow to react to such an unexpected attack and most of them screamed as the steam flash cooked their eyes and the outer layers of their skin. Four saved themselves by using raw aythar to direct the air around themselves.
The pain and loss of normal vision stunned the She’Har for a moment, but it wouldn’t last long. Mages didn’t need eyes to see and adrenaline would probably enable some of them to resume their attacks within a moment, despite the physical agony. Of course, the four that had protected themselves were still perfectly able to fight, and they were redirecting their attention to the girl at the bottom of the pit.
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