“Hardly fair,” Zaharalla the Poisoner said. “Chonda Lu may have been a match for us, but this pup doesn’t stand a chance.”
Asusharus the Spider cracked her knuckles. “Though we were pleased to learn our poison had worked on Chonda Lu, we were disappointed that we couldn’t make our revenge more … personal. I was most pleased, however, when your little animated note got caught in one of my webs on its way out. What a wonder it has brought us. Destiny smiles on the wicked today.”
The Warlock’s voice penetrated Turesobei’s mind like a dagger shoved into the base of his skull. “You will bow to me, Chonda Turesobei. Your mind shall become my mind. You are now my thrall.”
Turesobei collapsed to his knees and doubled over. The Deadly Twelve laughed in delight.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
The Warlock’s compulsion squeezed his mind like a pair of ghostly hands inside his skull. He could squeeze all he wanted. While doubled over, Turesobei drew a spell strip from his pouch. Though the Warlock’s power was impressive, it paled in comparison to what the ghost of Naruwakiru had wielded through her heart. If Turesobei could fight her off, he could withstand this easily.
Turesobei snapped back up, flicked the spell strip between his fingers, and cast the relatively easy spell of the sun-fire sphere. He tossed the spell strip into the air. It transformed into a blazing globe, like a miniature sun, and hung near the ceiling of the cavern. The bright sunlight shone down. The Deadly Twelve covered their eyes and stumbled back.
Motekeru bellowed a mechanical war cry and plowed into the Wolf. They rolled on the ground, clawing at one another. Lu Bei and Rig and Ohma rushed the Spider. She swept her hands out and threw her webs, catching both wolfhounds in her strands. Lu Bei spun and weaved through the strands sprayed at him. He shocked her in the face then swiped with his claws, blinding one eye and gashing a cheek.
He spiraled upward, away from a blast of her webs. “Storm powers, woohoo!”
Aikonshi slung her shadow tendrils around the Poisoner, binding him. She charged with her daggers. One of the Warlock’s eight clones intercepted her.
With another quick-cast, Turesobei launched the spell of heaven’s wrath. He didn’t dare use too much storm energy, not now. He would pass into the dragon dream and probably kill his companions with the blast. As it was, he had to open it wide enough just to power the abbreviated casting that he had to ignore the flashes of open sky that crowded his peripheral vision. The spell just took too much time for him to cast. He wasn’t Chonda Lu.
The lightning arc blasted the Warlock against the wall. The wraith slumped, his clothing smoldering, the skin on one side of his face melted. A clone stepped in to shield him. Turesobei had hoped to hit him hard enough to kill him, or at least knock him out so the clones would disappear, if it would work that way. But it was going to take a stronger blast for that. He pulled out another spell strip and glanced at his companions.
Wrestling on the ground, biting and clawing, Motekeru fought the Wolf to a standstill. The wolfhounds still struggled, trying to break free from the Spider’s webs. Lu Bei darted in at the Spider again, but her webs snapped around his feet. She reeled him in and punched him in the head. Lu Bei went limp. She slung him against the nearest wall of the cavern. He struck and went down as a book, splayed open, face down, pages crumpled.
“Lu Bei!” Turesobei cried.
Aikonshi fought desperately against three clones. She avoided them deftly, but she was tiring fast. She stabbed one in the chest, and he faded away. A poisoned blade scored a cut across Aikonshi’s shoulder. She slowed almost immediately. One of the copies surged in and kicked her in the head. She fell to the ground, limp.
Turesobei started another quick-cast of the spell of heaven’s wrath. Before he could finish it, the Poisoner pointed at him and spoke a word. A cloud of green vapor erupted out of nowhere and centered itself on Turesobei. Coughing, despite the poison wards etched into his breastplate, he sputtered out the last words of the spell. The power went out of him, but the spell didn’t work. He staggered, wiping at his stinging eyes. His exposed skin itched. He breathed in, and it was like breathing fire into his lungs.
With Sumada ready, he careened toward the Poisoner, running free from the vapor cloud. The Poisoner leapt in and swung. Turesobei barely blocked the blow. When he had trained with Iniru, she had overwhelmed him with speed. These guys were faster — much faster. Fighting defensively and backing away, he blocked two more cuts. The Poisoner was squinting. The sun orb clearly bothered them. It was probably the only reason he was still alive. An attack slipped through his defense and nicked him on the forearm. The poison rushed through his system, leaving him suddenly fatigued, as if he’d been doing heavy labor all day. Turesobei stumbled — his joints were stiff — his limbs sluggish.
Aikonshi and Lu Bei were down — the wolfhounds neutralized. Motekeru was a match for the Wolf. He pounded him until the Wolf crawled away from him half-stunned. But Motekeru couldn’t pursue him because four clones ganged up on him. As soon as they scored his wooden body with one of their poisoned swords, he slowed. With a fading roar, he tore the head from one of the clones. He went down, bludgeoned until he could fight no longer.
The Poisoner drew back his blade, prepared for a killing strike, but then reversed it and struck Turesobei in the head with the pommel.
He fell, stunned. The sun fire globe sputtered out.
A shadow fell across him. He tried to move, but couldn’t. His muscles had seized up entirely from the poison, probably aided by fatigue and all the spells he had quick-cast today. He twisted enough to see what loomed above him.
The Warlock leered, his scarred face healing rapidly. Turesobei groaned. He should’ve sold out and trusted his companions to do the rest, if he managed not to incinerate them. He should’ve blasted the Warlock with every ounce of storm energy he had. He and his companions were all doomed now anyway. He had played it too safe. He tried to open the channel now, but nothing happened.
The Warlock ruffled Turesobei’s hair with his bony hand. “Foolish boy. An amazing spell, yes. But not nearly enough to kill me.” He turned to the remaining copies. “Go get the rest of his companions. They are in a cave at the north end of the ledge. It is screened with magic. You will have to search for it by hand.
“Is that surprise I see in your eyes, Chonda maggot? I didn’t actually try to compel you. I knew that would never work on a wizard. But my attempt to read your recent thoughts was highly effective.” He touched the storm sigil. “You will come to regret that you weren’t strong enough to kill me.”
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Turesobei jerked awake and instantly regretted it. Pain shot through sore muscles and pounded in his head. In the center of the cavern, he hung a few inches above the floor by a web cinched around his waist. More webs bound his hands and feet.
Enashoma was bound to the right of him. To his left Iniru and the others slumped, suspended in identical cocoons. Even the dogs were stuck in a harness of webs. All except Motekeru. They had chained him to a stalagmite in addition to binding him with webs. Some of the others were awake, some with injuries like Iniru and Aikonshi were asleep. But everyone was alive for now.
Turesobei took a deep breath of hope. It wasn’t much, but it was all he had. Lu Bei as a diary lay at Turesobei’s feet, along with his pouch of spell strips and Sumada. They were taunting him. He just needed to find a way to make them regret it.
Four clones guarded the exit that led to the Winter Gate. He craned his neck and looked behind him. Four clones there, too. Torment’s flames: the ones Aikonshi and Motekeru had killed had regenerated.
The Warlock and the Poisoner stood not far away, discussing something. The Wolf and the Spider were nowhere within sight.
Turesobei tried to picture a rune in his mind and called on his internal kenja, but he couldn’t focus well enough. He was too tired. He tried to open access to the storm sigil, but that didn’t work either. Forcing it might work, but the power
might flare and incinerate everyone. Or he might become a dragon like Okishenaga. Was that how it would start? By letting loose all the energy?
Noticing Turesobei was awake, the Warlock stalked over with a grin plastered on his terrible, gaunt face.
“Thinking about casting a spell?”
“Actually, I was.”
“And your conclusion…”
Turesobei tried to shrug. “You tell me.”
“Zaharalla, keep watch on him. I must talk to the child again. If you have to leave, gag him. He doesn’t have the strength to do anything … but just in case.”
Turesobei glanced over and saw that everyone was now awake and alert. A lot of them were giving him dirty looks. He slumped as best as he could to rest his back.
“I’m sorry everyone. We tried. Gave it our all.”
“Might have done it with us, don’t you think?” Zaiporo snapped.
“We were supposed to be in it together until the end,” Shoma said. “You betrayed us.”
“I tried to save you. Would have if the Warlock hadn’t been able to read my mind. I didn’t expect that. I had you hidden from them perfectly. You would’ve woken up safe in three months. As for you helping, I’m sorry, Zaiporo, but it wouldn’t have made a difference. We were outmatched from the beginning. If I’d sold out, put everything I had into it, risking death from the casting, maybe I could’ve taken one of them out. Maybe. But they’re just as fearsome as Lu Bei said.”
They didn’t say anything back. He couldn’t tell if they’d accepted what he’d done or were still mad at him, or were despondent because of the situation they were in. He didn’t much care at the moment.
“Sorry I’m an idiot, Niru. But they were going to come after me anyway.”
“I didn’t know that,” she said. Her voice was surprisingly strong for someone as wounded, exhausted, and sick as she was. But that was Iniru. Tough and always able to keep going. “Sorry I called you an idiot for coming here.”
“I deserved it.”
“Obviously.” Iniru nodded her head in the other direction, toward all the others. “What is she doing here? And you let …” She broke down into a fit of coughing. “You let Shoma come along? I could kill you for … being so stupid.”
“They demanded to come along, and I couldn’t get rid of them. We were all going to die anyway ….”
“You didn’t know that before you got here, though, did you?”
“We knew before we came here, but it was long after we’d left home.”
She shook her head. “Shouldn’t have sent that message back. I was weak and I … I just wanted to say … goodbye. Didn’t think you’d find me. Should’ve known better. How did you get up the mountain … so fast? Should’ve taken a month. They weren’t expecting you yet.”
“Then how did they know to set the trap?”
“No idea. So how’d you get here?”
“We rode a dragon.”
“You … you what?”
“I summoned a cloud dragon.”
“I’m — I’m impressed. Your spell casting has gotten better. We could have used a dragon in here, you know. Could still use one.”
“She wouldn’t help. And I don’t think she would’ve done much good against these guys anyway.”
“Maybe that’s how they knew you were here, you flying on a dragon.”
“Maybe. I’m good with dragons now, and storm spells.”
“Yeah, I saw the … blast.” She coughed again. “Impressive. Couldn’t have given it a little more juice?”
“I would’ve passed out and probably would’ve killed us all when I lost control.” Or have become the Storm Dragon.
“So what’s with all these weird friends you’ve got? Where’d they come from? The Deadly Twelve called them Chonda Lu’s heirs.”
“Like me, they sort of are.” He explained it as best as he understood it. “Good thing I had them, even if it wasn’t enough. You know the Twelve have hired themselves into killing me, everyone here, and more people back in Ekaran? One hundred and forty four of Chonda Lu’s heirs, friends, and descendants.”
“Well, that’s terrific. Guess it’s not bad that I sent the note back?”
“The note at least gave us a chance.”
“Why didn’t you wait for Lord Kahenan and some backup?”
“I was afraid they’d get through to the Winter Child and we’d run out of time.” And I was desperate to save you. “So how did you end up here?”
“The Sacred Codex told me to kill the Winter Child. You probably guessed that. Couldn’t do it. She was just a sweet, innocent child. Then the Twelve showed up. Horrible timing. The child asked … for help, and I followed them, trying to get her away. They finally caught me when I ran out of food and got too sick to keep running.”
“Do you know what they’re planning to do with the child?”
“Yes. That’s why I should have done what I was supposed to. The Sacred Codex gave me a mission. It was on me to protect all Okoro. If I’d just done the right thing …”
“It was the right thing to kill a child?”
“In this case. Now your clan and friends will die, and winter will fall eternally over the land. All my fault.”
“But you didn’t know that. That’s my problem, no offense, with your codex. It asks only for blind obedience. If it had told you why …”
“That’s just not how it works. We have to do our duty. All of us. We must play our part.”
Turesobei frowned and shook his head. “No, we have to do what’s right, as best as we understand it. That’s why I came to save you, abandoning my clan when they desperately needed me.”
“Why did they need you?”
“Because of the Gawo. We’ll be at war in six months. We can’t defeat them. They outnumber us with all their new allies. Our only hope was my newfound storm powers. Grandfather is aging, too. He needed me there. But I had to come after you.”
She smiled, and he thought she blushed, but it was so hard to tell with k’chasans. “What about Shoma?”
“She didn’t want an arranged marriage or the life of a lady. Mother was about to sell her off at auction, basically.”
“Good call leaving, Shoma!”
Shoma had been dozing. “What? Oh. I couldn’t take it any longer.”
Turesobei continued, “Zaiporo left so he could be a free man. Well, more free. He didn’t want his clan or family legacy to dictate his life for him. Even Awasa chose her fate, to her own risk.”
“Yeah, why did she come along? Did you invite her?”
“I tried as hard as I could to ditch her,” he said quietly. At their low tones, Awasa probably couldn’t hear them from here, but he wanted to be extra careful. “She forced her way along because she found out I was coming after you.”
“How did she know?”
“From Zaiporo, by accident, who knew it from Enashoma. They’re close.”
Iniru raised an eyebrow. He shrugged in response.
“You should have stayed and been the person you’re supposed to be. You should have forgotten about me.”
“But they were going to come after me.”
“That doesn’t mean you made the right choice.”
“We have to be who we’re supposed to be. We have to figure that out ourselves.”
She shook her head and mumbled something. She started to fade. He didn’t know how she was still going — she probably couldn’t have without all the qengai training she’d had since birth.
His thoughts turned inward.
He had to be true to himself. But who was he, really? He wasn’t sure he knew anymore. And it seemed silly to worry about it when he would soon be dead. But that somehow made it even more important to him. Chonda Turesobei, the heir of Chonda Lu, or something more than that? Or was he nearly the Storm Dragon? If he could be true to himself, what would he become? Chonda Lu’s reincarnation or the next Naruwakiru?
Chapter Sixty
The Deadly Twelve brought t
he Winter Child out into the large cavern from the small room she was kept in. The Warlock ground his fangs together and flexed his claws as his clones positioned the Winter Child across from Turesobei and his companions. Her eyes widened as she scanned everyone, pausing when she spotted Motekeru and Iniru.
The Warlock squatted in front of the Winter Child. “The time has come where we must force you to make a decision.”
“Your mind powers? I overheard you talking about them. But you won’t use them on me because it might ruin my mind. If that happened, I wouldn’t be able to open the gate for you.”
He sneered. “I will take that chance if I must. There are other means of coercing you, though. I could kill some of these captives here …”
“You — you wouldn’t!”
“Don’t listen to him!” Turesobei said. “If you open the gate, they’ll blanket the land in an eternal winter!”
“I know. The priests taught me to never open it.”
The Warlock grinned. “Time to play. Jaskashi, choose someone and claw them up. But not too bad. Not yet. Zaharalla, give all of our captives, save the child, a light scalding. Not enough to cause permanent harm.”
The Warlock waved a hand and all the torches went out, leaving nothing but a faint, eerie glow from patches of iridescent moss on the cavern walls.
Claws ripped through fabric and skin. Zaiporo screamed.
“Zai!” Shoma shouted.
The air turned thick and heavy … acrid. Turesobei took in a deep breath and held it. His eyes stung. He closed them tight. His skin itched, then burned like he was being held over the spout of a steaming kettle. Someone cried out. Isashiara? Then more cries of pain were wrung from the others. Writhing, he could hold his breath no longer. He inhaled, and it was like breathing fire directly into his lungs. This was the same stuff he’d been hit with in the fight.
He tried to call on a wind spell … healing … storm energy … but he couldn’t manage anything. He groaned and finally screamed like everyone else — everyone except Motekeru, who was laughing. Why was he laughing?
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