A Shattered Empire

by Mitchell Hogan

  And following his own advice to the Quiver, he ran, clutching the hilt of his sword so it didn’t trip him up.

  The newly forged purified land was between him and Devenish’s tent. Caldan skirted the edge, feeling the wrongness to it, as if it had leached all that was life and sorcery from the world. And it pulled at him, as if wanting more sorcery, a giant drain dragging power toward it. Above him, clouds still wheeled, and the air crackled.

  He dashed past bewildered Quivers, ignoring their cries and appeals, his booted feet stamping through puddles and streams. Despairing faces half glimpsed as he passed.

  Devenish’s tent was boiling with activity. Groups of warlocks rushed away from it in all directions. They must have gathered there when they sensed the coming storm and now dispersed to confuse their enemy and offer multiple targets. Devenish stood outside the tent, shouting instructions and reassurance to the departing warlocks.

  As Caldan approached, he sensed shields spring up around warlocks. They hadn’t succumbed to the utter confusion the Quivers had, but they still went to their inevitable deaths.

  Devenish argued with Thenna. She tugged at his arm, and he shrugged her off. He yelled something lost in the wind and the downpour. She sank to her knees in front of him, hair plastered to her face and neck.

  Caldan shot into their view and skidded to a halt.

  “You have to stop the warlocks using sorcery!” Caldan pleaded. “They’ll be killed!”

  Devenish’s mouth twisted into a grim smile. “They won’t be. I’ll see to it.”

  “No, Devenish,” gasped Thenna. “You can’t—”

  “I will!” said Devenish. “Thenna, you must flee! Go with the others.” Devenish looked at Caldan. “Take her, Caldan. Get her away from here!”

  Thenna struggled to her feet. “I’m not leaving you.”

  “You must. I cannot protect you.”

  Thenna cursed viciously. She gave Devenish a despair-filled look and took a step back. Whatever defenses she had inside her crumbled, and she lowered her gaze.

  Devenish turned to Caldan. “You must flee. Take Thenna. Carry her, else she won’t make it in time. Go now!”

  Caldan nodded. He understood Devenish had a plan, one that involved him taking on the might of the storm himself. But what could Devenish do on his own, unless he had something up his sleeve he hadn’t revealed before?

  The warlocks Caldan had seen were fleeing to safety, not to combat the sorcery. Devenish was sacrificing himself. But could he stand up to the reality—the lifeless voids that were the purified lands? The warlock leader thought he could, or at least that he had a chance.

  Before Caldan could move or speak, power flooded out of Devenish. A tornado of fire and darkness. Caldan’s well reverberated. A shield enveloped Devenish as the outpouring intensified. He was drawing the storm’s fury upon himself.

  Caldan didn’t wait. He scooped Thenna up and sprinted away. He hardly felt her weight in his fired-up state. She pressed her face to his chest and sobbed.

  He ran and didn’t stop until he passed a few groups of warlocks. Only when Thenna struggled in his grasp and shouted at him to halt so she could watch what happened to Devenish did he stop. A hundred yards to their left, Caldan could see Quiss, Izak, and Felicienne struggling in their direction.

  Thenna, soaked to the bone, the knees of her pants mud-stained, turned a tear-streaked face in the direction they’d come from. She hugged her arms to her chest and rocked back and forth.

  Devenish stood still, a speck against the gray, washed-out landscape. But to Caldan’s sorcerous senses, he pulsed with power.

  An impossibly bright light flared from Devenish, immolating him. Caldan gasped and tensed, but Thenna didn’t react. Caldan realized he could still feel Devenish’s force. This, then, was the burst meant to attract the storm’s fury.

  Glowing spheres of light surrounded Devenish. Bubbles within bubbles. Caldan sensed the warlock’s well intensify as each one came into existence.

  Thenna uttered a despairing cry.

  Spasms of power rolled out from Devenish. Clouds focused above him, circling as a shark might. All three funnels tracked toward him.

  Lightning arced from Devenish as he loosed power with abandon. Brilliant golden tendrils of his own reached into the heart of the storm, only to be met with violet threads, twining around them and cutting them off. Again, Caldan sensed the underlying design. Crafted power used to create a barrier of force, which could contain the corrosion of destructive sorcery. The same power would disintegrate a well-made crafting in moments.

  A funnel reached down to surround Devenish. Thenna screamed desolately, certain he would meet his doom.

  Another rippling wave. A soundless flash, closely followed by a deafening clap of thunder. Pressure pushed Caldan down. The scent of lemons and molten metal flooded his nostrils. Thenna’s wailing grew in intensity. He found himself face-first on the ground. Caldan clamped down on a primal need to scream.

  The pressure relented, and Caldan and Thenna rose.

  She let out a choking sob. Where Devenish had stood was another black glass circle.

  Thenna sank back to the ground, head in her hands.

  But the circle wasn’t complete. In the center was a patch untouched by the purified land. Devenish.

  “He’s alive,” Caldan gasped.

  And the storm had shrunk, a fact Caldan hadn’t noticed before. Whenever a patch of purified land was created, the storm lessened in fury, as if drained of power.

  Thenna looked up, red-rimmed eyes searching for and finding the glowing sphere surrounding Devenish. Before she had time to react, another cloud funnel crashed down on the golden shield.

  Brilliant agonizing light. Ground trembling with such a force it felt as if it should crack open. Purified land shattered, sending jagged splinters flying. Another black circle overlaid the first, fusing serrated spears of glass.

  And still Devenish stood—though now he was surrounded by a spiked field of shattered purified land. The skin of Caldan’s chest burned. He looked down to see a glow emanating from under his shirt.

  His bone ring.

  He tugged the chain around his neck, and the bone ring spilled out. It glowed a searing golden white, like Devenish’s protections. Caldan lay in the mud, mouth open, as he worked through the implications.

  A bone trinket he was all but certain was only a shield. It had previously reacted when Caldan’s defenses had failed. But here it was answering the voice of the purified lands.

  A golden glow, akin to that surrounding Devenish. Somehow, he could feel his trinket wanting to respond in kind. Caldan sensed the power flowing through it, searching, and an angry sensation—as if his bone ring sensed a rival.

  The trinket was also a weapon, and that was why the warlocks and the emperor desired it.

  Caldan knew by his ring’s reaction that Devenish must also possess such a trinket.

  Only one funnel remained, and Caldan allowed himself a glimmer of hope. Again the fury of the storm had abated. What had been driving rain was now a drizzling mist. Devenish had withstood two hammerings; hopefully he could weather a third. With the storm’s ferocity diminished, he had to have most of the battle won. But there was something very wrong with what had happened.

  With sickening dread, Caldan realized where this was leading. A slap for a slap. A strike for a strike. Devenish would focus on Kelhak and attempt to repay him for his affront. And if Kelhak survived, he would strike back. It would never end. Sorcery would run amok.

  The Shattering all over again.

  The last funnel boiled across the sky toward Devenish. It hung there, moving back and forth like a leech looking for a place to bite. Then it withdrew. Its maw retreated into the clouds and dissolved among them. Almost as if Kelhak recognized the futility of continuing.

  The light from Caldan’s bone ring winked out.

  THENNA’S BACK REMAINED to Caldan. He shoved the bone ring under his shirt, heedless that it scorch
ed his hair and flesh. He clenched his teeth against the pain. Bone it might be, but it somehow retained the heat of searing metal.

  He regained his feet, and for heartbeats, all he could do was stare at the splintered mass of jagged glass surrounding a globe of brilliant light. Devenish amid destruction. Wielding a trinket no man or woman should have in their possession. This Caldan now understood.

  They had to be destroyed, Devenish’s and his. No one who’d felt the nonlife of purified land, the very corruption of creation, could deny this. And yet . . . Devenish clearly did.

  Thenna shouted with joy and raced back toward the warlock. Around Caldan, groups of warlocks and Quivers were either lying on the ground, or on their knees, or standing on wobbly legs. All of them had eyes for Devenish’s glowing sphere and the retreating storm.

  Sunlight showered over them. Light gleamed off metal, rain-drenched Quivers and warlocks, and puddles of standing water.

  Caldan blinked at the sudden painful glare. He rose to his feet, unsteady at first, then gaining strength.

  “Caldan,” Felice said as she approached. “What happened?”

  Izak stared at the steaming circle of black glass, and Quiss’s expression was one of pure horror.

  Caldan blinked again, taking in the swath of smoking ground and the haze gathered above the newly created purified lands. He almost wept then, so great was his desire to flee and never look back, which warred with his sense of what was right, what he needed to do.

  He turned and saw some of the Quivers hobbling away, reluctant to approach the areas where sorcery had erupted with such force. On the edges of the black circles, corpses lay burning.

  He looked to the warlocks’ encampment, now obliterated, where Devenish’s shield had disappeared, leaving the warlock standing alone in the center of massive dark glasslike shards.

  Caldan ignored Felicienne and jogged across the ground, past and through veils of smoke and scattered belongings. Around Quivers with harrowed eyes mirroring fear and confusion.

  “I am alive!” Devenish shouted to the sky. “I defeated him!”

  The warlock was cut and bleeding, his arms and legs slashed as he climbed through the shards surrounding him. But his expression was one of triumph and exultation. Thenna scrambled toward him, heedless of her own cuts.

  Caldan halted on the edge of the purified land. One like no other. Shattered obsidian rose above his head. He could feel it, as close as he was: A void. Emptiness. Desecration.

  The Quivers had been scattered but were slowly returning. Warlocks made their way toward Devenish.

  Devenish was raving. “I am the only hope the emperor has! It is by my might alone that we all stand here, else you’d all be dead.”

  “Yes!” Thenna crowed. “My love. My savior!”

  Madness. Devenish took advantage of Thenna’s lack of knowledge, and no doubt would try the same trick with the other warlocks and the Quivers. His wasn’t the power that saved him, it was his trinket. The emperor wouldn’t fall for such deception.

  More important, Devenish was setting himself as equal to the emperor. The problem was that, in a way, he was. Because just like the emperor, he wasn’t actually strong enough to withstand Kelhak. He had a crutch—and who knew when it would break. The warlock had been swept up in the tide of power, and if he was left alone, there was a very real possibility of his doing much more harm than good.

  Devenish thought he could stop the war. But instead, he would just escalate the devastation.

  The wind continued to blow, chilling Caldan’s clothes and skin. Insects buzzed and crows circled. Life continued unabated.

  Thenna was with Devenish now, leading him out of the fragments of the purified land. The bare patch on which Devenish had made his stand was in the center of the circle—where he could still access his well. Here, where they stood upon the lifeless surface, sorcerers had no power. Crafting was impossible.

  A shiver ran through Caldan. He reached for the buckle of his sword belt and released it. The blade swung to his hip. A furtive glance confirmed no warlocks were close as yet. There were a few Quivers, but they were no hurdle to him. Not now, not with everything he’d learned.

  Caldan found himself gasping for breath.

  Thenna and Devenish staggered toward him on bloodied feet, hands dripping crimson. Blood trails streaked their arms and legs.

  Caldan’s eyes moistened. Whether for the warlocks, or the loss of his innocence, or for the world in general, he knew not. Was he going mad? Had this crazed world unhinged him? Destroyed his moral compass?

  Devenish and Thenna had stopped. They watched him, eyes laden with suspicion. Ten paces, and they would be clear of the purified land.

  The warlock leader would wield a weapon that tore at the very fabric of life, and damn the consequences.

  Devenish had already called out the emperor in front of hundreds of other sorcerers and warriors. He felt himself freed from whatever oaths he had taken to his liege, and free—and strong enough—to take on Kelhak. It was lunacy and hubris backed by sorcery.

  A combination that could end only in disaster. The proof was standing before them . . . or, rather, they were standing on it. Devenish didn’t understand what his arrogance meant, but Caldan did: a lifeless world, scorched and barren and ruined.

  Caldan couldn’t let that happen.

  He glanced uneasily at his sword hilt, saw Devenish lick his lips, Thenna scowl.

  “You can join us,” Devenish was saying.

  “Become one of us,” Thenna echoed.

  “Touched and a warlock,” continued Devenish. “You’ll be greater than you can imagine.”

  A tool, thought Caldan. A potent implement to be used and discarded, like all the others.

  No—not like the others. A tool in the hands of someone almost purely evil now.

  Devenish took a step toward him, hand outstretched, beseeching. “I will train you myself. Coercive and destructive sorcery will be yours to master. One day you’ll be greater than me, and replace me as leader of the warlocks.”

  Thenna stared at Devenish in confusion. But Caldan wasn’t buying into his lies. There was nothing he could offer. For one thing, Devenish wouldn’t relinquish his position. Would never allow someone stronger than him, someone who could challenge him.

  For another, there was no way Devenish would be in a position to offer any of this anyway, because by using purified land as a weapon he would destroy the world.

  “No,” said Caldan.

  Devenish took another step. Thenna tried to push past him, but he shoved her behind him.

  Caldan drew his sword, raised the freshly sharpened blade in the air before him. Sunlight covered the burnished metal.

  “Caldan . . . lower your sword.”

  Another step.

  “Stop,” Caldan said, wincing at the weakness in his voice.

  Behind him he heard Felicienne cry out in dismay. She would be here soon.

  Devenish placed one foot in front of the other. “Together, we will discover new sorceries, the like of which the world has never seen! But you must join us, in spirit as well as body. There are no half measures. Become one of us. It is all you’ve ever dreamed of, is it not? Together, we will explore your treasured sorcery.”

  Devenish’s soothing voice called to Caldan. He did want what Devenish offered. But only part of it. The other part was too repulsive to contemplate. He would forge his own path, away from the warlocks and the emperor, away from their machinations. Together with Miranda.

  Yes, Kelhak still lay between him and his heart’s desire. And yes, Devenish had been the one who had stopped Kelhak’s assault. If Caldan allied himself with the warlock, Kelhak could be vanquished. But if Devenish was the rock that broke Kelhak’s sorcery, then that rock was hollow, and already the cracks were showing. And that meant he wasn’t a solid foundation on which to build a future—a future of peace. A future with Miranda.

  Caldan had to take his place.

  Devenish too
k another step. He held out his hand, palm up, pleading with Caldan to take it.

  Caldan stepped onto the shattered surface, edges cutting deep into his boots.

  “No,” whispered Thenna.

  Devenish shrank back, casting a panicked gaze around him. But there was no one to help. His well was blocked by the purified land. There was only the warlocks and Caldan.

  And Caldan’s sword.

  Caldan’s blade cleaved down. Thenna jerked back as Devenish tumbled, a surprised look on his face. The sword jutted from a gash in his shoulder; blood pumped from the wound. Caldan tugged his blade out and watched Devenish fall with a gurgling gasp, light leaving his eyes.

  Thenna screamed, the sound returning to them a hundredfold off the hard glass splinters.

  Caldan struck her across the temple with the flat of his blade, as he had done to Bells what seemed like so long ago in the cavern beneath Anasoma. Thenna slumped in a heap, a red smear across her forehead. He was sure he would regret sparing her life later, but for now, in this moment, he just couldn’t kill her.

  Caldan wiped his sword on Devenish’s shirt and sheathed it, refusing to think about what he’d done. He lifted Thenna’s inert form and carried her off the jagged slivers. Placing her on the ground, he made sure none of her cuts were deep enough to be life threatening. Once satisfied, he returned to Devenish. He found the trinket on a silver chain around the warlock’s neck, worn the same way as his own. A bone ring. Twin to the one he’d inherited. He tore the chain off and quickly fastened the ring next to his.

  Then he left the purified land, opened his well, and poured power into his shield. He’d just killed Devenish, the leader of the warlocks and the man who they thought had saved them. Maybe some would realize why he’d struck Devenish down, but not enough.

  Quivers nocked arrows; spears were leveled at him; cries went up from the soldiers. Warlocks gestured at Caldan—and focused sorcery came for him.

  Sparks erupted from his shield as it buffered the attack. Glittering fire consumed the grass surrounding him—but he stood within the conflagration untouched. Arrows struck, most glancing away, iron points bending as they bounced off his wards. To Caldan, they were mere irritations. His skills had developed a great deal, and his complex, phased shield was equal to the task.