The Ravens of Death (Tsun-Tsun TzimTzum Book 4)

by Mike Truk

  “Valeria,” said Emma, her voice tight with emotion. “They’ve taken her.”

  “Taken her?” The words didn’t register, had no meaning at first. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  Imogen was pale, collected, and clearly livid. “Duplicity. When Brielle and I went to take our shift, we were transported elsewhere while Emma and Little Meow were brought back here.”

  Fury simmered in Brielle’s eyes. “Emelias is permanently unavailable, and not in the building. We went to the palace to get answers but were denied access. I was about to start killing people when a Morathi diplomat came out. He said Valeria’s condition had worsened, and that Morgana had her transported to Tantaghrast where she’ll await us by the Fulcrum.”

  “Tantaghrast?” My mind was reeling. Only ten minutes ago, I’d been lost in the utter bliss of fucking Neveah in her demonic form, and now suddenly I was being forced to deal with this tragedy. “You’re kidding me. That doesn’t make any -”

  “- sense?” said Brielle, finishing my sentence for me. “Of course not! It was a ruse. It must have been. To get you away, to distract you, then steal Valeria.”

  “But why?” I moved over to a chair and sat, feeling dazed. “Why go to such lengths? I mean… Morgana could have just let her die. Or…”

  “Think, Noah.” Imogen moved to crouch before me, hands light on my knees. “We’ve already established that Lilith doesn’t want to simply kill us. Ever since Brielle’s trial back in Bastion, she’s been looking to corrupt us.”

  “She wants Valeria,” I said, piecing it together. “She’s going to wake her up. Alone, crippled, and without us there to tell her the truth.”

  Silence was my only answer.

  I groaned, stood up, and began to pace. “Fuck. And she’s going to be at her weakest. They’re going to turn her against us. And there’s nothing we can do about it.”

  “We have to reach her,” said Neveah quietly. “And fast.”

  “Her aperture,” I said. “Perhaps I can speak to her there. Hold on.”

  I dropped to sit cross-legged on the floor, placing my hands on my knees and sank deep into my reservoir. Down the length of my golden filament, to where the five apertures hung suspended in the darkness.

  Training my attention on Valeria’s portal, I flew to it.

  Something felt off.

  I extended my hand and willed the aperture to open.

  It didn’t move.

  Frowning, I poured more energy into the desire, the command. I visualized it irising before my hand, giving me access to Valeria within.

  Nothing.

  I don’t know how long I struggled with the aperture until at last, I opened my eyes.

  “And?” asked Emma.

  “Nothing. It won’t open. I can’t reach her.”

  “Not good,” said Imogen, beginning to pace.

  “What does that mean?” asked Emma, looking from her to me.

  Imogen reached the far wall, turned, and strode back. “That Lilith has somehow managed to interpose herself between Noah and Valeria. Which should be impossible, given their sacred bond. A bond forged by the Source during the Five Trials.”

  We stared at each other in silence, and my misery knew no bounds.

  Emma turned at last to Neveah. “So. You guys. Success?”

  “Success,” said Neveah, with surprising warmth. Then she smiled, which underscored the depth of her change. “I am at peace with myself, and my demon no longer taxes my reserves. I’m ready to bring the battle to Lilith.”

  “Well, that’s some good news,” said Emma. “But even so, it’ll take us weeks to reach Tantaghrast. We can portal back to Khalistria, but then we still have to get through Carcosa, then on to Matterlar, then Byzul…”

  Frustration arose within me; with a cry of rage, I swept my arm through the air, dragging a levenbolt as thick as my thigh across the wall. Tiles, bricks, and potted ferns exploded in a shattering roar, leaving a ragged trench several feet thick in its wake.

  I curled my hands into fists. “I hate these people. Their games. Their manipulations. Was Alusz in on this? Was she used by Morgana?”

  “Does it matter?” asked Brielle.

  “Yes. To me. But I’m so tired of this bullshit. Even with Neveah, it’s going to take us time to reach the Fulcrum. And every second we’re delayed is another that Valeria’s alone with their lies and poison.”

  I pushed the base of both palms into my eyes and just stood there, reeling. I thought of Valeria awakening alone. The shock and horror she’d feel when she saw her stumps. The lies that would be told to her right after. Would they tell her she’d been abandoned? That she was useless now, that I’d chosen to ditch her and press on? Oh god, she’d eat those lies right up. They’d feed right into her greatest weaknesses and doubts.

  “What’ll they do to her?” I asked, voice little more than a croak.

  “Corrupt her,” said Imogen softly.

  “Turn her toward Lilith,” said Neveah.

  Emma passed her hand over her mouth, face growing pale. “That was her card, wasn’t it? The one Shalarra drew? The Lilith card?”

  “I thought that was her challenge back on Ghogiel,” I said, wild despair opening its wings of panic in my throat. “That she’d fallen as the Black Paladin or whatever but had overcome her temptation.”

  “A time will come,” recited Imogen, tone solemn, repeating Shalara’s words, “when Valeria feels devoid of all hope, powerless against that which confronts you, controlled, even, by external forces. A nadir in which she is beset by the worst of her fears. When she may come to believe she has no choice but to bend the knee to Lilith and bow her head.”

  “She can’t,” I said, needing to believe my own words. “She won’t.”

  “They’ll have weeks to work on her,” said Emma, then sank uncertainly onto a chair. “And she’s at her weakest.”

  A dangerous fury was building up within me again. I felt like a thunderhead, filled to bursting with power and ire, ready to destroy all that lay before me. But I held the rage within me - what point was there to destroying this chamber, lashing out like a petulant child?

  “We have to leave now,” said Brielle softly. “We have to hurry. Even a day saved can make a difference.”

  “Could we… this might be a stupid idea,” said Little Meow from where she’d been standing to one side. “Could we storm the palace? Find Morgana, force her to return Valeria?”

  “No,” said Imogen. “There’s simply too many of them. And they’ll be ready for such an attack. Unless we came up with some deception.”

  “A trick,” said Emma. “We could… we could ask to talk to her, negotiate her return or something. An exchange. Pretend we’ll give them - I don’t know - Shard, or whatever would bring them to the table -”

  “No,” I said, and my voice rang out with final authority. “We’re not negotiating with them. We’re not lying, and we’re not playing their games any longer.”

  “Agreed,” said Brielle. “Neveah is with us again. I say we storm these realms, cut our way through our enemies -”

  “Nor that,” I said. I felt punch-drunk, my thoughts unable to settle. But certainty was filling me. “We’re done. We’re going to take control of this shitshow.”

  “How?” asked Imogen. “I approve of the sentiment, but…?”

  “Grab your packs. Follow me.” I hitched my own higher up my shoulders, turning toward the pool room’s double doors.

  I marched to them, and at the last let slip Muladhara’s fury; levenbolts blasted both doors clear off their hinges, sending them crashing into the hall beyond.

  I saw panicked faces, heard people running away. I ignored them, striding into the hall, and made my way to the front door.

  There I found Isossa, clad in a black ballgown that hugged her feminine frame, her black hair pulled back into an elaborate confection of pins and gleaming clasps.

  “The portal to Aegeria awaits you in the great Ritual Hall,” s
he said; though her voice was calm, I could sense her fear, could see it in how wide her eyes were. “When you are ready -”

  I ignored her completely and drew Shard. In that very motion, I unleashed an arcing flare of golden light that detonated against the iron doors, each twice as tall as I was. A second swipe, and a triangular segment in their center wobbled, wavered, then fell outward into the street with a resounding boom.

  Isossa opened and shut her mouth, helpless, as I walked past her, outside into the cold light of dawn.

  Emelias’s manor was built high on a ridge facing the heart of Ur-Gharab, with rivers of roiling clouds slowly pouring below us, cutting the ridge off from the main city. I gazed with cold hatred upon that segmented mass of walls and towers, the endless courts cut off from each other by portcullises and battlements.

  A city designed to endless withstand siege, to disorient, to befuddle any attacking force.

  “You are mad if you think to fight your way through to the palace,” said Isossa behind me. “It would take you years, and you’d have to fight a thousand Morathi to do so. Admit it, Savior. You have no choice but to go through our portal. Aegeria and Khalistria await. Don’t spend your energies here. Save them for your trials. Come with me, and I shall escort you to the portal, where you can continue your test with honor.”

  I turned and pointed Shard at Isossa’s perilously beautiful face. “If you ever dare speak that word in my presence again, I shall cut your tongue from your mouth. Do you understand?”

  Isossa faltered and stepped back, a hand rising to clasp her throat.

  I turned back to Ur-Gharab. But this time, I lifted my eyes from the morass of battlements and production zones, and traced the rise of the black smoke that billowed forth from a thousand smithies to inspect the palace tower.

  There, hovering serenely beside a large archway set in the tower itself, secured by thin filaments and looking as alien and majestic as anything I’d ever seen, was the Druach airship.

  “Neveah,” I said without turning around. “Your mastery of Manipura allows you to fly now?”

  “Yes,” she said simply.

  “Can you carry Little Meow and Emma?”

  “For a while, assuredly.”

  “Then I have a plan.”

  “What is it?” asked Imogen, moving up alongside me.

  “Can’t tell you. Folks could be listening, and we don’t have time to go into my reservoir.”

  “It’d be best if we could -” began Imogen, but I raised a hand, cutting her off.

  “I have a plan. It’s what we’re going to do. Either you trust me or you don’t.”

  “I trust you,” she said without hesitation. “All right.” She took a deep breath, smoothing her robes down over her hidden uniform. “All right. Lead on.”

  I scanned the others, waited for any complaints, then nodded, rising into the air. “Brielle? Imogen? With me.”

  They approached and hesitated, then each took hold of one of my arms and rose to perch on one of my feet, their arms wrapping around my waist. Manipura girded my form; I wrapped an arm around both in turn, and, holding them close, lifted higher into the air.

  Neveah, I saw, did the same; a moment later she also climbed into the air, moving with calm, deceptive speed to catch up with me.

  In a matter of moments, we left Emelias’s manor and Isossa behind - my last glimpse of the woman was her running into the building, no doubt to portal ahead.

  Let her. She’d never guess what I was planning to do.

  Leaning ever so slightly forward, I put on speed; soon the rough ground was speeding by below us, the slate rooftops of buildings and the narrow alleys, figures craning back their heads to point us out as we left behind the ridge and flew out over the roiling river of clouds.

  The air changed then, growing colder; the wind was sharp, as if a constant current of air was funneling along the same trail as the cloud road. I ignored the chill, simply holding Imogen and Brielle closer and moving ever faster, flying higher, my gaze locked on the airship.

  We passed over Ur-Gharab’s main walls, sped over the endless courtyards, the barbicans, the laboring slaves and their masters, the endless toil to supply the war in Bastion, and what few outposts of resistance yet remained in the universe. We flew over stubby towers, cruel battlements, through columns of dark, choking smoke, higher and higher.

  My gaze never left the Druach airship.

  That gorgeous vessel’s hull was shaped like a huge ivory blade, filigreed with silver embossing along its forward edge. It glimmered in the dawn light, breathtakingly beautiful while at once brutal in design and simplicity; a great flying falchion of a submarine.

  “Incoming!” shouted Imogen, raising her arm to point out dark flecks that were rapidly closing in on us.

  “Take care of them,” I said grimly, not deviating my path.

  A dozen Morathi soldiers flew toward us, their cloaks streaming, forms encased in luminous wards. Each held a spear whose head blazed with black fire, and they flew in precise formation, a phalanx that would intersect our approach within minutes.

  With a reflexive effort of will, my own ward manifested about us, gleaming cool platinum in the morning sunlight, covering both myself and my companions.

  And with each beat of my heart, I fed more power into its spherical perfection, allowing my anger, my hatred for everything I saw, to fuel and temper my efforts.

  “Soon,” shouted Imogen over the rushing wind. “Ready, Brielle? Let them draw close enough -”

  Neveah blew past us, flying straight up, easily doubling my speed, hair streaming behind her. For a second, I could only gape, then my shock multiplied when she released both Emma and Little Meow high above us.

  Both women began to scream as they fell.

  Fire raced through my veins, and I pushed myself toward them, not knowing what I could do, how I could catch them.

  Neveah didn’t hesitate. She slimmed her ward about her so it fit like a wetsuit, tapered about her frame with subtle perfection, and dove toward the rising phalanx.

  “She’s taking them on by herself,” said Imogen, her wonder evident even above the roar of the wind.

  Down Neveah flew, faster than a diving hawk. With a cry of command, the phalanx ceased its ascent, forming a line. At a second cry, a burst of black fire flew up to meet Neveah.

  She darted aside, dodging the attacks as if they were of no account. Sweeping Morghothilim out of its scabbard, all six feet of the demon blade gleaming in the dawn light, she punched through the phalanx without slowing.

  Two figures fell, wards shattering, unable to stop Morghothilim’s attack. The others turned around, panicked, their formation losing coherency, only to see Neveah raise her palm.

  Pure glory poured forth from her hand, a stream of gold and ivory, a living gout of resplendent power that she raked across their wavering formation. Their wards were snuffed out in rapid succession, forms immolated by the attack, and as one they dropped, ten corpses falling from the air, spears loosed from their open hands, plummeting toward the city below.

  “Holy shit,” I heard Brielle say, awed.

  “Heavenfire,” said Imogen on my other side, equally awed. “She just…”

  Emma and Little Meow’s screams dopplered past us as they fell ever faster, tumbling toward the city below.

  I snapped out of my amazement and dove after them, only to see Neveah swoop in at the last moment and snag them from the sky, catching each with one arm and flying back up to meet us.

  Her grin was wicked, her eyes gleaming with delight. As she drew close, both women clutching to her in barely constrained panic, she laughed. “It’s been too long since I felt myself!”

  “Damn right!” I shouted back and resumed flying toward the tower.

  The wind was too loud for me to converse easily with Imogen and Brielle, but I could feel them twisting about in my arms as they stared back at where Neveah flew.

  No doubt they were feeling as stunned as I.

/>   Had she just… and in time to catch…?

  Insanity.

  Suddenly, my grin nearly split my face from ear to ear, and I put on a burst of speed, moving directly toward the great archway. As I drew closer, I saw that it was recessed with a broad ledge before it, affording room for goods to be unloaded.

  A dozen men and women in imperial blue uniforms stood on guard, their clothing foreign, complete with black, knee-high boots, tight leather belts, and vaguely Napoleonic jackets.

  They looked sharp, all of them exhibiting the lazy lethality of a great cat at ease, watching us approach with lazy disdain.

  As I landed on the ledge, however, the airship massive just above and behind me, they pushed off walls, standing from where they crouched in the shadows, moving to form a bloc before the gateway.

  I released Imogen and Brielle just as Neveah and the others touched down beside me. “Get ready,” I said and approached, the hint of a smirk on my lips.

  “We know who you are,” said their leader, a painfully handsome man with golden curls and the musculature of a gymnast. Perhaps just shy of his thirties, he’d have looked completely at home clad in gleaming full plate armor, bearing a shield emblazoned with a rose. A real paladin-type. “We ask you to stop, Savior, and approach no closer.”

  “Or what?” I asked, not breaking my stride.

  “Noah?” asked Emma, tone uncertain behind me.

  The golden-haired man smiled. “Or we’ll be forced to stop you in the name of the Druach.”

  “Bring it,” I said, and leaped up, exploding into flight. Manipura’s roar momentarily eclipsed everything as I called on its burning might, flooding my system with strength, impossible speed, and enduring resilience.

  The guards were elite in truth. They reacted smoothly, without alarm, moving to spread out, wards popping up, drawing weapons as they went.

  At that moment, I gave vent to my frustrations, the deep, pulsing anger that had been building within me ever since Shalarra had ordered me to pass through my five trials. The resentment I’d been cultivating at being manipulated, shepherded, told where to go and what to do. How I’d been manipulated at every turn, controlled, and abused.