Impact of the Fallen: The White Mage Saga #4 (The Chronicles of Lumineia)
Page 14
She threw a terrified look over her shoulder. Her gaze locked with the silver eyes of her pursuer, and she saw a deep intelligence reflected in them. Just as Siarra had warned, it was not a savage brute bent on destroying her. It was a creature with a mind almost as keen as hers, which meant it could outthink her at every turn. It also meant that . . .
Shock caused her to slow, and the sudden change in her motion saved her life. The black reaver streaked out of a side tunnel and passed in front of her. Its spines raked across her body, tearing deep and spinning her about. She hit the ground hard, and felt a muscle in her ankle tear. Agony swept her as she climbed to her feet.
Stunned, she looked back and saw the reaver's illusion of itself melt away. The mirage had chased her while the real creature had advanced ahead. Bruised and beaten, she turned to face the real one. It skidded to a stop and whirled at her. Weak from the loss of blood, Tess knew she could not escape again. This was her final stand. She raised her palm to the reaver, and felt a chill as she recalled the image from her vision.
"Stop."
Her voice rang with a strength she did not feel. Apparently confused by the audacious move, the reaver began to circle her. Tess's skin crawled as the spines rattled, but she held her ground as it rotated around her. It came to a halt and faced her.
Distantly she was aware of the stillness among the onlookers, but she did not turn away from the reaver's gaze. For the first time she saw the reaver up close. Scars ran the length of its body, and cut across its face. Although the shackles around its legs had been removed, the thick band around its neck remained. The fur was matted and worn underneath.
"I need you to hear me," she murmured. Please let this work.
The reaver appeared uncertain, and it bared its teeth in a rumbling snarl. She swallowed, but did not look away. Again she spoke as if they were allies, as if they were friends.
"I know what you feel," Tess said. "I know why you are angry." Then she used the mindspeak of animal mages.
Please . . . help me.
The touch of her mind seemed to startle the reaver, and it stalked closer. Tess did not move, and continued her effort.
Killing me will not heal your wounds. Tess said.
It is all I do!
Tess flinched from the power behind the reaver's voice, but she did not retreat. You are what you choose to be.
I am who I was MADE to be!
The savage answer tore into her resolve, and her weakening body fought to claim her. She willed herself to remain on her feet.
Only if you let your captors win. Have they chained your mind like they have your body?
Its roar shook the ground, and drew a gasp of anticipation from the gathered dark elves. Tess's blood trembled in her veins from the challenge.
If you are a killer at heart . . . then strike me down. If you are something more . . . then stay your wrath. Help me.
Mustering all her courage she spread her arms wide, wincing as the movement spiked pain throughout her flesh. The reaver's snarl echoed throughout the arena, and it closed the gap. Fear gripped Tess, and it took all her willpower to remain in place. The reaver came to a halt an inch from her face, filling her vision with razor sharp teeth.
I cannot defy my masters.
Its jaws opened to kill her, and she closed her eyes to accept her fate. The blood seeping from her was sapping her strength by the second, and she had nothing left to give. Then she had a flash of insight. With their minds partially linked she caught a stray word.
"Knisenik," she said its name aloud, her voice tinged with the authority of her birthright. "You are your own master."
The reaver retreated a pace and settled back on its haunches. Its silver eyes regarded her with curiosity. Your magic is the most powerful I have tasted, and yet you speak my name with respect?
My respect is given to those who act with honor. Even shackled as you are, I have seen you. You do not act out of a malicious desire to cause harm. You have merely sought to kill, quickly and with mercy. Even as your captors call for sport, you do not give it.
The reaver regarded her for a long moment. You speak with an authority I have never heard.
I am the Oracle, Tess replied. She shivered as she mentally proclaimed her identity.
Many have begged for me to spare them, the reaver said. You are the first I will heed. It then turned its back and prowled away, its spines rustling.
"Lazy brute!" someone shouted. "Kill the girl!"
The reaver turned toward the voice and released a thundering snarl. Rising to its feet, it yanked one of the spines from its own back and hurled it at the voice. Dressed in lowly clothes, the dark elf tried to duck but wasn't nearly fast enough. The spike embedded into his chest and slammed him backward, pinning him to the wall. The sudden death elicited a cheer from the crowd.
Good luck, young one, the reaver said, I enjoyed your magic. In a rustle of metal it jumped to its ledge and disappeared in the tunnel it had come from. The wave of relief that swept Tess nearly brought her to her knees, and rivaled her mounting weakness. She wiped her face but winced when her hand came away bloody. Then the noise began to build.
Mounting like an approaching train, the roar of the onlookers built until it was deafening. Bloody, broken, and weak, Tess rose off the ground and returned to her shelf. She held herself aloft by force of will, but the moment she was out of sight she sank to her knees. Robar was the first at her side, and caught her before her head struck the floor.
"Drat girl," he growled. "You were supposed to stay moving."
The approval in his voice brought a weak smile to her lips. "I'm getting blood on you." She felt someone wrap a bandage on her arm. It hurt.
"You better not die now," he said, his voice urgent. "Not after what you just did."
"Why would I die now . . .?" her voice trailed off as she groggily looked down.
Gouging cuts covered her body, staining her clothing with crimson. She felt immediately sick, and almost vomited on Robar. The next moment a pair of soft hands touched her side. Her exhaustion mounting, her eyes rolled closed. The last thing she heard was Robar cursing as healing mages went to work on her.
Chapter 22: Runekeys
After the destruction of Varson's office the Harbingers’ punishments reached new lows. Students were given Darkened detention for the smallest of infractions, and Derek couldn't go through a day without seeing countless of them huddled on the ground.
Since it had been obvious that no professors had been directly involved, Varson had been forced to consider the idea that students had perpetrated the act. His hostility toward them mounted, but it was returned in equal measure. He made several overtures to encourage students to join the Harbingers, but they came across as heavy handed and forced. Only a handful publicly supported him.
Those known to affiliate with the Harbingers became ostracized. At meals, in social settings, and even during classes the youth Harbingers were forced to sit alone. Heavy punishments were levied against the general populace for such behavior, but the students bore them in silence. Instead they flocked to the Order of White.
Their numbers had grown to over three hundred. Iris had set up a rotating schedule for everyone to get time inside the refuge. The growth flared the spark of rebellion into an inferno, and everyone at Tryton's felt it. Derek lived in fear that they would be discovered.
"You think she's stable enough for more?" Jacque asked, pulling Derek from his thoughts.
"Why do you always refer to your work as a she?" Willow cast an annoyed look at Jacque.
"Because all my work is beautiful," Jacque said.
The earth mages laughed. Jacque had been born in France, and retained his French accent. Tall, handsome, and well built, the mage was on his last quad. His smile drew the ladies like a pot of honey.
"It's getting there," Derek said. "But not there yet."
"How many heliocoppers do you think we can fit?" Marambe asked.
"Helicopters," Derek correcte
d. "And I'd say three at this point."
Derek couldn't blame him for mispronouncing it. Marambe had been raised in a mage village in Africa, and had never been in the auren world.
"How far to the edge?" Derek asked Jacque.
The Frenchman stepped to the back of the cave they had hollowed out and touched the rock. "Two hundred meters or so."
Derek did the math. "Then we'll need to expand a bit or we won't be large enough."
"Any more and we're going to destabilize the plant school," Brody protested. "You can already see the roots from the larger trees up there."
"We'll use additional reinforcing spells to make sure it holds," Derek said. "But we need the space."
"Has anyone ever thought that hollowing out the underbelly of the city is illegal?" Willow asked.
Brody laughed. "There's no Magtherian anymore, so I don't think this is technically illegal."
Willow grinned. "The Harbingers should have been more specific when they started making their new laws."
All of them were barefoot, and some of the boys had removed their shirts. Like all earth mages, they felt an affinity for the earth through their skin. Layered in dirt and grime, it was difficult to make out Willow's features. Only her smile showed through.
"Not that I'm worried," Willow added with a shrug. "If we help the Magtherian retake control I don't think they'll mind that we built a hanger for auren helicopters in the city."
They were interrupted by Iris, who spoke through the nexus charm. "Derek, you need to get to the refuge. I think we've figured out how to work the gate."
The other earth mages nodded to him. "We've got this. Go ahead."
Derek indicated his gratitude and stepped to the rear wall. Cast with a flurion locking charm, the secret doorway was all but impossible to see. Passing his hand over the correct spot, he shifted several key sections. Then the circular door swung open and closed behind him.
Standing inside one of the least used practicum chambers, he asked Egg to open the Gate to Siarra's refuge. A moment later he had joined his friends. Over a hundred of the Order were in the refuge training rooms but only a handful stood in the main hall. Rox, Shorn, and Iris turned at his approach.
"What's up?" Derek asked.
Iris threw him a disapproving look. "Didn't want to clean up first?" Stel, who had taken to Iris since Tess had fallen into the Dark, issued a sneeze of disapproval. His liquid metal form pointedly flowed over her shoulder and jumped to the ground.
"Later," Derek said. "What did you find out?"
Iris motioned to the large, gilded mirror. "Do you see the runes around the sides?"
"I noticed them before. Did you figure them out?"
Shorn nodded. "We think they were once used to set the destination of the Gate."
"There's more than one?" Derek's eyebrows shot up.
"At least there used to be," Shorn said, and hefted a book he'd been holding at his side.
"Just how many destinations are there?"
"Twelve," Shorn said.
Derek's eyebrows shot up. "Are there more in Auroraq? Or just the one in the Spirus?"
"How should I know?" Iris snorted.
Derek stepped to the mirror and examined the six runes on either side of the mirror. None were familiar to him except for one.
"This looks like the symbol for Atlantis," he said.
Rox leaned close. "You're right," she exclaimed in surprise, and then cocked her head sideways. "But it's upside down." Before Derek could stop her she reached out and turned it upright. The rune glowed in response.
The mirror shimmered—and then exploded with water. The shield they had used to prevent a person walking through shattered in an instant, allowing a ten foot blast of water to roar into the refuge. The torrent sent Derek tumbling across the room. Rox had instinctively raised her hands, forcing the water to split around her. Pushing past the roaring seawater, she turned the rune back to its original position.
The water cut off in an instant, and Derek climbed to his feet. His vision cleared to find the refuge filled with two inches of water. The scent of salt was strong, causing him to wrinkle his nose. Doing so caused his cheek to hurt. He touched it, and it came away bloody.
"I'm sorry," Rox said in a small voice.
Derek burst into a spontaneous laugh. "You figured out how to activate its magic," he said wryly. "Now we just have to find out which goes to the Spirus."
Several of the other Order members had come due to the noise, and one of them stepped to Derek's side. The knot on her shoulder identified her as a healing and music mage. Her touch elicited a sting on his cheek, but a moment later it faded away. He threw the girl a grateful glance.
"Thanks Talia," he said, and then turned to Rox. "Do you think you and Shorn can dry this place out before it starts to smell bad? You can add it to the water source."
Shorn, who had been blasting the book in his hands with air, grinned. "We'll take care of it."
Chagrined, Rox nodded, and began to lift the water into the water source on the side of the room. She paused when Derek called her name.
"I did need to clean up, Rox." His smile elicited one in turn, and she waved to him, drying his clothes.
As they cleaned up the mess Derek strode to Iris. "One down, eleven to go."
"Really?" Iris wasn't paying attention. "Are you sure? Perfect, thanks." She turned to Derek. "Now that Rox figured out the correct configuration, I sent a memory image to a friend that used to work in the Magtherian. Uri said that when Auroraq was built much of the artifacts came from Atlantis."
"Yes," Derek said, "we know that—"
"—except the Gates." She frowned at his interruption. "Both the one at the Spirus and the one here came from two ancient mage cities. One came from Athens, and the other came from Rome. The one for Athens is here, but it doesn't activate." She touched it to prove her words.
"So which is the one for Rome?"
She motioned to the rune on the top right. "That should take us to the Spirus."
Derek considered the options. It was after dinner now, meaning that no one was expecting them at classes. It would be an ideal time to step into the Spirus and get a look. At the very least they could find out where it let out. His mind made up, he motioned to Iris.
"Grab Quad and meet me here," he said.
Her smile brightened. "I'll get him," she said, and darted away.
Their task complete, Shorn and Rox joined them. "What's the plan?" he asked.
"We'll take a quick peek and see where we stand," Derek said to him. "Be ready to seal it behind us, just in case. I don't want someone following us through."
Summoned by Iris, Quad appeared beside them. "How soon do we leave?"
Derek grinned. "Now."
He nodded to Iris, and she turned the runekey that would take them to the Spirus. The mirror shimmered again, but nothing came out.
"Anybody on the other side?"
Iris's expression was a mask of concentration. "Not that I can see."
Derek forced his fears aside and stepped through. Like passing through a layer of water, he came out into a room much darker than the one he'd left. He stepped to the side, and a moment later Iris and Quad followed him through.
"Where are—"
"Shh," Derek hissed. "Quad, can you block any curses?"
Now that his eyes had adjusted he could see a ribbon of light several paces away. The illumination revealed a small, detailed chamber evidently reserved exclusively for the Gate. Bereft of furniture, the space held only the gilded mirror. A single memory coated the walls and ceiling. He drew in a surprised breath as he realized the view to be of ancient Rome.
"No curses that I can see." Quad whispered. "There might be some outside the room, though. Where are we?"
Iris had been muttering to herself, but paused to answer. "Top of the Spirus."
Derek had drifted close to the door to examine the walls, but froze when he heard voices. Fear rose within him as he recognized Ali
ce's voice. The response came from Varson, and caused him to draw closer to the door. Then they mentioned their mother.
"Derek . . .?" Iris's voice was uneasy.
"Shh," Derek said. "I want to hear this . . ."
Chapter 23: Overheard
"You have failed, Trina," Alice said coldly.
The woman's eyes flicked between the three at the table. "Next time I will succeed."
"No," Alice said. Her tone was mild, and yet it heightened Trina's fear. "The president has proven himself to be resilient. If we send another to end his life it will be someone who will not fail."
Trina bowed, and turned to depart. Alice brought her up short. "How is your daughter?"
The woman rotated back, and her frame issued a slight tremble. "I have not seen her, but I do speak to her, as you requested."
Alice issued a smile that did not touch her eyes. "She is a threat. If you do not convince her to join us, I will be forced to remove her."
"She will join the Harbingers," Trina said. "I swear it."
"Do I need to remind you of the consequence of failure?"
"No," Trina said hastily.
"Then you may return to the work that Keidon has assigned to you."
"As you will, Master." Trina gave a second bow and then hurried from the room. When she was gone Varson released a snort.
"She has been more obedient than I expected."
"She has to be," Alice said. "We control her magic."
"Can she turn Iris?" Ducalik asked.
Keidon gave a jerk of his head. "I doubt it. She needs to be dealt with by other means."
"Not yet," Alice said. "My daughter may be gone, but her defiant spirit remains. Trina remains a link to those the oracle influenced."
"Are you certain about the one to take your daughter's place?" Ducalik asked. "Only a supremely powerful force can do as you intend."
Alice turned to look at him. Dressed in slacks and a shirt, he could have passed for a modern mage. Only his accent betrayed his age. Trapped for ten thousand years within the Dark, he had mastered it and exited when the portal had opened. His talent with body magic was equally as impressive. If she had not subdued him, the man would have taken the Dark and conquered the Earth himself.