by J. A. Comley
“Mixing blood doesn't seem to affect that. The Makhi healers say that there are markers within a person's make-up that decide whether they will develop a magical ability or not.”
No running from this. “It says a life is usually required.” Starla tried to clear the hoarseness from her throat. “I don't understand. If I … die,” even now she ran from the word. Perhaps if she was sure Larkel was lost to her here, was waiting for her there, death wouldn't be so terrifying, “how would my magic help anyone?”
Astria closed the space between them and reached a timid hand to Starla's cheek.
“The lore is sparse. True Soreiaphin like you are very rare.” She paused, her old, wise eyes sad. “If the Soreiaphin dies in the unlocking, their last thought is how their magic is directed. But it doesn't always mean the Soreiaphin's own life. It can be the life of a loved one given in place of theirs. It is unique to your amulet. Without the missing words, it is hard to be sure.”
Starla nodded. Would she be willing to let another die for her?
“But you think death is a possibility?” She choked on the word.
Astria looked down at the scroll again, her hand falling from Starla's face. “Yes.”
“Let's get back to the others,” Starla said, pushing the dark possibilities away. She would deal with that if she had to.
Stepping around her grandmother, she strode purposely back to the meeting hall. With every step, she clamped down on her tremulous emotions, locking them up so she could focus. As she reached the doors, she took her fragile, most likely foolish, hope and tucked it into her broken heart, giving it a reason to keep beating.
Astria was by her side, grim-faced, but a fire matching Starla's burning in her eyes.
Wiping her eyes dry once more, she took a deep breath, then pushed the doors open.
“So, we can assume that the Baron has the Stones, his spies and everything else he needs. He has, by now, rejoined his master,” Starla said, her voice steady, business like, as she strode back to her place at the table, ignoring the wide eyes that swivelled towards her, and sitting down. “What do we do now?”
Everyone stared at her, momentarily caught off-guard. Gaby caught her eye, her violet eyes trying to peer into Starla's soul. Slowly, she looked away, nodding to herself.
“The former High Lord sent a final message to his Order. The Baron said that Kyron wanted a surrender or he would attack at dusk on the fifth day of the new year,” Ezira answered, matching Starla's formal tone and ignoring Starla's involuntary flinch when she had said 'former'. “Kyron also left a message for those who would come to the Baron's ruined mansion, confirming the Baron's information and the death of the High Lord.”
Starla managed not to flinch this time, even as the shards of her heart throbbed painfully and her every fibre protested against the statement.
“It's a lie,” Starla stated flatly. Everyone's gaze became worried again. They thought she was talking of Larkel. They were wrong. “Why would Kyron wait so long? He already has an army. His spies here have returned to him. The Baron could not have been working alone. He has the Sacred Stones, which means the Shield will be down.” Starla stopped as Astria opened her mouth, no doubt to mention that the Shield would have faltered the second the High Lord fell, anyway.
She gave her newly-found grandmother a hard look. Astria raised her hand in apology, motioning Starla to continue.
“My point is, he has everything.” Starla looked to Ezira. “I have seen and heard how he likes to play with his victims. This has to be a lie. He has no reason to wait.”
Ezira nodded. “Yes, I, too, believed he was lying. The High Lady Naleiya and her wife, Commander Medara agreed. Yet he has waited one day already. A day, as you pointed out, he had no reason to waste.”
“You think he is still preparing?” Starla asked, catching the thoughtful edge to Ezira's words. “Or that he actually wants Galatia's last stand to be big, a way to show off his power when he crushes it?”
Ezira just nodded, standing up, a white staff appearing in her right hand. It was as beautiful as it was strange. The wood curled and folded along itself in patterns that the eye couldn't quite trace. A large, multi-hued orb hung, seemingly unsupported, in a teardrop shape at the tip.
She held it over her crest, a flowering tree laid upon the background of a giant white bird in flight, emblazoned on the centre of the long table and spoke under her breath.
A small, black orb, covered in cracks, rose out of the table and came to hover in the centre of the group.
Starla stared at the orb dubiously. But the others reacted more violently. The Guardians jumped back. Even Fey looked at Ezira in mute horror.
Astria seemed frozen in her seat. “Is that an Orb of Sight?” she choked out, straining away from it, seeming unable to find the strength to get out of her seat as the Sacrileons had done.
“It is,” Ezira said. She beheld the Orb like it was a precious and beautiful thing.
Gaby had come and grabbed Starla out of her seat, pulling her to the doors with the other Sacrileons.
“I thought he destroyed them all after—” Astria's voice trailed off and she finally managed to stand, stepping towards the door, too.
“After I betrayed him?” Ezira laughed, sounding as cold as her counter-part. “All but the one I stole.”
Starla's mind was starting to catch up with everyone's reactions. Whatever it was, it had been made by Kyron.
“Is that how he was defeated the first time?” Starla whispered in Gaby's ear. “Because Ezira betrayed him?”
Ezira hissed, locking her gaze on Starla. The look chilled Starla's blood and she would have run if she thought it would do any good. She felt the others tense around her.
Slowly, the dual-coloured eyes cleared a little and Ezira adopted an apologetic expression.
“Forgive my anger,” she murmured. “I did not leave him lightly. We are more than even twins in your world. We were one being in soul, if not in body. It is necessary to maintain the balance. He forced the spilt but I made the rift which gave him no other choice. The cost was nearly unbearable. But I could not stay. Yes, I betrayed him. His power was thus weakened, as was mine. He had been counting on me, on my support. He wanted to created a new world where we ruled instead of watched.”
The others slowly relaxed.
“What do you intend with that?” Gaby asked, pointing at the still-hovering orb.
Ezira moved away from the table, the Orb following, always hovering before her.
“I intend to use it.”
Astria gasped, shaking her head quickly. “It is far too dangerous, Ezira. You cannot do this.”
“It is not your place to command me.” Ezira's voice struck to the bones of those there, reminding them that, diminished though her powers may be, she was still a Demilain.
“What is it? What can it do?” Starla asked, trying to understand why Astria would risk the anger of this creature.
“It allows the intended user to ask a question. It then looks back into time and shows the user the answer. It can be useful to spy on another's plans,” Rya said, eyes still on Ezira.
“When Kyron first made these, they were meant to allow us to communicate with other Demilain across the universe. He planned to send them out. An offering of alliance, he'd said. When I discovered he intended to send them cloaked and use them to spy on our kin, I ordered them destroyed. Naturally, he ignored me, bent on his plan of a new world, a new universe. After the split, he fled. He destroyed the place where they were kept. I had taken this one, stolen it so that I could spy on him, suspecting he might flee after our powers became finite.”
“And you plan on spying on him now?” Starla said, then something else that had been mentioned earlier came back to her. “You said Kyron travelled to other galaxies, slaughtering your kin and everything else that wasn't useful for his army. I don't think he destroyed them. I think he took them and used them, exactly as he'd always planned.”
Ezira smi
led sadly. “I believe that you are right. And yes, I do plan to use this to spy on him, now. It is the only way to be sure of when he intends to attack Galatia's Royal City.”
“But, Ezira, he will know.” Astria sounded like she was begging. “He will sense it.”
“Not if we all work together. I believe I have devised a way in which I can use the natural elements to shield my use of the Orb. I'll admit, the process is really an adaptation of Larkel's breakthrough.”
Astria was shaking her head, clearly unhappy with the amount of risk.
“What can he do if he senses you?” Starla asked, trying to understand the risks, even as she ached to use it herself to find out the truth about Larkel.
“Apart from being able to glimpse into my mind and potentially change his plans, thereby making the whole exercise futile, nothing, I think.” Ezira shrugged. “Please, friends,” she addressed the Sacrileons, “it is the best I can do to confirm or deny the information Galatia holds.
Gaby heaved a frustrated sigh. “And if it kills us? You have no idea what our trying to shield you will do,” she said, bluntly.
“Is it not worth the risk?” Ezira said. “Galatia will fall, regardless. With or without your aid. But maybe, just maybe, we could discover some weakness. Something that could make a difference. Something that would make it worth my using up so much of my power helping Starla to locate the missing piece of her amulet and helping her to retrieve it, if possible.”
Starla stepped forwards.
Slowly, the others all nodded, and moved to form a circle, with Ezira and the Orb at the centre.
“Astria, could you stand in for Beky's element? Although you cannot replicate Fauna, your unique Inagium energy will help bridge the gap,” Ezira said, pointing to the gap in the circle.
Astria didn't answer, but moved into position, and they all linked hands.
“Starla, please stay back. If anything bad happens, the Captain of the Guard on Aurelia will be alerted. He will come for you.”
Starla moved to the edge of the room, where she leaned against the glass, watching the others anxiously. Would Ezira think to ask about Larkel? She bit her tongue as they all began to glow faintly. Would they survive this?
The Guardians all wore calm expressions, their markings glowing brightly. Astria's brow was furrowed in concentration, a light-green glow shining around her.
Ezira appeared to be in a trance, staring into the Orb, her lips moving in a silent question.
Starla felt as if the air in the room had suddenly all been sucked into the Orb as it burnt red. Then it exploded. The shock wave of released energy threw everyone flat on the floor and sent Starla flying backwards over the table.
“Ezira!” Starla heard Fey scream from the other side of the table.
Starla hauled herself to her feet and ran to them. Ezira was twitching in Fey's arms but seemed to be stirring back to consciousness. Everyone else was a little dazed, but all right. Astria reached over and pulled Starla into a hug, her arms trembling.
Finally, Ezira opened her eyes. “Day after tomorrow,” she whispered. “At dusk … the third day of the new year.”
Astria released Starla and went over to help Ezira to her feet. The Sacrileons were having a hushed conversation in their own liquid language. It sounded like singing.
Starla moved towards the nearest glass wall. “That gives us one day to join the army in Galatia,” she said, to no one in particular.
Something crunched under her boot a moment before she felt a shard of the Orb rip through the soft sole her shoe and stab into her heel, freezing her skin.
Starla felt her feet leave the ground as pain exploded inside her body. Image after image flooded her mind, flashing to life in her head.
Thousands of drodemions, tens of thousands, were gathering in Abyss Valley. Fifty thousand, she learned, as if someone had spoken the number. The Baron was there, with several men and woman from the Galatian military. He was trying to organise the undead horde, but seemed distracted. Above, flew swarms of magmi, two thousand in the air, one thousand more elsewhere. Large packs of ergothan prowled below, four hundred. Three hundred grobblers stood around three huge bonfires. The image dissolved into nothing.
Kyron was leaning over a military map, an evil smile on his face. He was counting up the extra drodemions he could create if his forces did a slow march towards the city, visiting every village and farmstead on the way. At least another ten thousand, if his spies were correct. The Royal City could be surrounded. An ambush, two days earlier than the fools there expected. Beside him lay four books. Registers of all the people on Galatian soil. His leering face faded away into the darkness.
Elise, Antonio, the twins, Father Joe, Pierre and Raoul. All locked in cages. Starla felt her heart skip a few beats as she saw their bruises and wounds, their haggard faces. Raoul was playing with a gold necklace, a red blossom for its pendant. The pain in her body grew worse. It felt like she was being wrenched apart, limb by limb. Yet even through the pain, she felt the tug of familiarity. She forced herself to concentrate on the image. Father Joe was waving a folded white cloth towards the glow of a pit near the cages. She willed the image to move, to look in the direction Father Joe was indicating. High above the pit of lava, a man was chained and bleeding, his raven hair fallen over half of his face.
Something hard smacked into Starla's back. She looked around, confused. She was back in the Dome of Stars, lying on her back on the cold floor, across the room from where she had been standing. Someone was screaming.
With a jolt, she realised it was her and clamped her mouth shut. Everyone had rushed to form a circle around her, though no one tried to help her up. Their eyes looked wary.
“Sorry,” Starla began, then noticed the fresh burns everyone seemed to have sustained, the Sacrileons' appearing as grey smudges on their obsidian skin.
“We tried to get you. When you rose into the air,” Rya murmured, noticing Starla's scrutiny, her red suns catching the light.
“You were screaming so much,” whispered Gaby. She had several more burns than the others.
“Are you all right, Starla?” Astria asked, an angry red burn across her arm, another across her cheek. Beside her left foot lay Starla's boot. A little black shard was poking through the red fabric. As Starla watched, it dissolved into dust.
“What happened?” Ezira demanded, her face deadly, her staff's light slowly fading. “What. Did. You. Do?”
Starla sat up, ignoring her body's twitches of pain. There was so little time. She realised her nose was bleeding and staunched the flow with a scrap of fabric Alli offered to her. She got to her feet, determination burning in her emerald eyes.
“A shard of the Orb stuck through my boot and into my foot,” she said thickly, picking up the boot and tipping out the black dust. She held up her hand as several of the group began to question. “No, listen to me. I saw several—”
Ezira had grabbed Starla by the shoulders and hauled her off the floor. “You saw?” she choked. “You used a broken, Demilain-made Orb?” She sounded utterly incredulous.
“Put me down,” Starla said, her voice sharp with urgency. “Yes, I did. Now, you need to listen. In silence,” she added as a stunned Ezira returned her to the ground.
Her staff glowed briefly and Starla's nose stopped bleeding. She nodded in thanks.
Seeing the others swallow their questions, she started with her first vision. “Kyron has an army of fifty thousand drodemions. He plans to make a slow march towards the City, creating a further ten thousand drodemions from the villages and farmsteads on the way. They have to be evacuated,” she added, quickly giving the break-down of the troops she had seen. “That doesn't count the Galatian traitors.”
“I need to return home. Our army has only twenty thousand soldiers, two thousand Makhi,” Astria murmured to herself, her tone full of fear and determination. “I can combine my magic with Sacrileon magic, and if a Makhi leads, we may be able to evacuate the villages before Kyron
's attack.”
“Are you insane?” Ezira turned on the old Queen. “It is suicide. Even if you succeed in evacuating the villages, you cannot stop a Demilain. The only hope you have is in uniting the two pieces of the amulet and even then, Starla is entirely untrained! Not to mention that her amulet is unknown. I don't even know how to activate it!” Ezira was shaking her head as she moderated her tone. “Unless Starla has secreted the other half somewhere, there is no chance of beating him.”
“So we do what? Give up?” Gaby spat suddenly, violet eyes burning.
“I said silence!” Starla shouted, exasperated.
Astria smiled at her granddaughter's commanding tone, at the fire in her eyes.
“Is the missing piece in the City?”
“No, I've never had it.” Starla froze mid-way through shaking her head. “Raoul!”
Everyone looked at her, confusion clouding their eyes as she crowed with laughter.
“The last thing I saw was my family … my Earth family,” she added, glancing at Astria. “One of my friends, he has the other piece. I'm sure of it!” She smiled, remembering the tug of familiarity she had felt during the vision.
“Where are they?” Lua asked in a quivering voice that showed she already knew the answer.
“Kyron has them,” Starla hissed. A grin replaced her snarl. “He has Larkel too. He is alive.” She felt her heart reforge itself as the news sent waves of joy crashing over her.
Ezira was pacing now. “Kyron must have followed your magic spoors – the ones you would have made when you arrived in Galatia.”
The Sacrileons whom she had first met were all nodding. “Yes, he knew someone had broken through his lock-down. He hunted us. Of course he would investigate the trail to its origin,” Gaby muttered.
Starla gave them a minute to let it all sink in and then took a deep breath. “I am going to Abyss Valley. Now.”
“No!” Astria protested. “You will come back to the Royal City with me.”
Starla shook her head. “I have to help my friends. I have to help Larkel. Then I can unite the amulet and we can spring a trap of our own.”