The Severed Realm

by Michael G. Manning

  Chad had been a consummate hunter for most of his life, and while it wasn’t usually a consideration when hunting men, most animals possessed an incredible sense of smell. “He’s trackin’ our scent.” Grabbing Elaine and Cyhan’s wrists, he began to run. Their only hope was speed.

  “Why are we running?” exclaimed Elaine. “It’s dangerous. We can’t see!”

  The hunter didn’t answer. Scent tracking is slow. If we move fast, we can stay ahead of him. He had just finished that thought when they slammed into the wall. The darkness vanished, showing them the courtyard again.

  Elaine was on her knees, nursing a bloody chin. Cyhan pulled her to her feet as Chad got a fresh look at the massive wolf that was Gareth Gaelyn. I’ve seen warhorses that weren’t that big, thought the hunter, feeling his mouth go dry.

  Gareth charged toward them as Elaine grabbed their hands and covered them in her veil once more. Running parallel to the wall, they hoped that the wolf wouldn’t know which way they were headed.

  Chad made sure he was in the lead, not from any particular sense of chivalry, but to make sure Elaine didn’t knock herself silly when they found the next wall. If she lost consciousness, they were all dead. When he judged they were close, he slowed, turning so his shoulder and back would discover the boundary first.

  His guess was pretty good, though it still hurt like hell when his shoulder slammed into the hard stone. Elaine nearly knocked the wind from his lungs as she smacked into him. As usual, Cyhan somehow managed to avoid hitting either of them, or losing his balance.

  Chad held onto Elaine for a moment, grateful that she hadn’t lost her grip on the invisibility veil this time. In the pitch black, he shifted his hands to try and sort out what he was holding, and he felt something soft. That’s definitely her ass, he thought wryly, giving it a firm squeeze before pushing her away.

  “Seriously?” exclaimed Elaine, outraged. “Are you insane?”

  The hunter shrugged in the darkness. “Well, if I’m about to die anyway…”

  “Shut up,” barked Elaine. Gathering her will, she sent feelers of aythar out, making sure they were all within the circle, then with a word, she took them elsewhere.

  Chapter 38

  My newfound sense of danger was screaming at me as I tried to stop Tyrion, but I ignored it. As I rushed forward, he stopped his swing and punched forward, impaling me with his right arm. I felt the blade that extended from his hand pass completely through me, exiting somewhere near one of my kidneys. I froze in place, gaping at him while the pain blinded me to everything else. Glancing down, I could see his hand was entirely inside me.

  The look of fierce glee on his face as he withdrew his hand and I fell to my knees was something I wouldn’t ever forget. Horrified, I clutched at my stomach, trying to keep my entrails from falling out as he loomed over me.

  It was several seconds before I realized the sound filling my ears was Rose’s scream. Somehow, she had gotten to my side and she was clutching my arm, her face a picture of despair. Don’t, I thought, you’ll get blood on yourself. My eyes went downward, watching the blood running over my hands to spill onto the ground.

  “Sorry about that, Mordecai,” said Tyrion, gloating. “I wanted to go slower, but it’s hard to control myself sometimes. If you haven’t realized yet, I’m not really angry with you. It’s her I want to punish, which is why you have to die first, while she watches.”

  My hepatic artery was completely severed. I’d be dead in ten seconds or less, but I frantically grasped at it with my power, pulling the ends together and knitting the vessel back into one piece.

  Tyrion was kind enough to wait. “That’s it. Don’t let me kill you too quickly.”

  Then my eyes lit upon the one hope I had left. Rose’s hands were still on my arm, so I used the physical contact to send a quick message to her. Get around the corner, behind that wall. I can’t kill him if you’re too close.

  He must have sensed the extra use of aythar, for Tyrion used his foot to kick Rose soundly in the stomach. She fell back and rolled onto her side, clutching her belly, but when she looked up at me, I saw her eyes. She had understood me.

  My tormentor walked slowly around me, igniting just the tip of his armblade, which he then ran slowly up my back, cutting a deep gash in my skin and muscle. “Don’t heal too quickly,” he intoned cruelly.

  Behind him, Rose stumbled to her feet, still holding her bruised belly, and began to run. The corner of the nearest building was only ten feet away.

  Tyrion chuckled as he watched her go. “I told you, grandson. That one knows much about betrayal. Don’t worry, I’ll fetch her back in a moment. You’ll be dead, but rest easy that your betrayer will die soon after you.”

  Slowly, almost languorously, he turned to send a tendril of aythar out to catch her. The moment his attention was off of me I released my belly, heedless of my spilling guts. Grabbing the manacles from my belt, I took one in each hand and whipped the chain up and over him in a wide loop. With what aythar I had, I launched myself upward into the air, just as he reflexively cut the chain with his still-active armblades.

  The enchantment in those chains had been storing my excess aythar for nearly a week, and the explosion that resulted turned the world white as it ripped through him, crushing Tyrion’s shield and shredding his body. As close as I was, I fared only marginally better, already slightly above him. I was flung skyward by a shockwave so powerful that it ripped the skin from my face and legs. It destroyed my eyes, shattered my eardrums, and it was several seconds later, as I cartwheeled through the air, that I realized my right arm was entirely gone.

  But I was somehow still conscious, which was probably a good thing. Mondays, I thought, forgetting that it was still Sunday. Weakly, I grabbed at the air with my aythar, trying to slow my fall. I didn’t succeed—my power was still too feeble—but I managed to orient myself so that my head was uppermost as I fell. This is going to hurt, I thought as the ground rushed up at me.

  I wasn’t disappointed.

  The world hit me like an angry battering ram, causing me to lose consciousness for a few seconds. I might not have woken up at all, but when awareness forced itself upon me again I discovered Rose was beside me, twisting a strip of her dress around the stump of my arm to stop the blood that was rushing out of me.

  It was kind of silly of her, honestly. My intestines, which had been spilling out of me before the explosion, were mostly gone, along with much of my face and quite a bit of blood. I wouldn’t even have known it was Rose beside me if not for my magesight. By all rights, I would be dead in less than a minute, no matter what she did.

  But Tyrion was nowhere to be found, and for the first time in a week, I was the only archmage around. Opening my mind to the earth, I let it take away my pain as my consciousness expanded and I became something more.

  The void was closer, its voice loud, tempting me. It would have been easier, especially as close as I was to death already, but I forced myself to ignore it. It was too dangerous. If I allowed myself to draw upon it, I would almost certainly kill Rose shortly afterward to replenish my lost aythar.

  Rose gasped, stumbling back as my broken body changed, becoming stone-like.

  I pulled at the earth below, and cobblestones flowed upward, joining my body and replacing my lost mass. It was enticing me to go further, to grow more and wipe away the pain and suffering of the human world, but over the years I had had much practice at ignoring that urge. Contracting inward, I reminded myself of my humanity and envisioned my body as it had been.

  The world grew warm and true light broke in on me as my human eyes returned. Moments later I was myself, whole and unharmed.

  And naked, let’s not forget that—for I hadn’t thought to recreate my clothes. This is definitely a Monday, I decided. Whoever made the calendar screwed up.

  Rose’s arms were around me, getting my old blood on m
y new skin, but I didn’t particularly mind. Figuring out how my arms worked took me a few seconds, and then I returned the embrace, holding her tenderly against me. So far, it was the best moment of the day.

  She was crying softly, her face buried against my neck, but after a minute or so her quiet sobs stilled, and I felt her lips on my shoulder. She worked her way up my neck and kissed the line of my chin and my hands dropped lower, instinctively pulling at her hips.

  Uh oh. “Rose, wait, hang on,” I told her.

  She stopped immediately, then said, “Oh!” A rather appropriate remark, in my opinion. She started to push me away, but I held onto her, turning her around and pulling her hips back toward me. It wasn’t for the reason she initially assumed, however, as she slapped at my hands and protested my lewd behavior. A second later, she saw the reason for my actions.

  Several people stood nearby, drawn by the sound of Tyrion’s explosion, and they were watching us curiously as I used Rose as a sort of human fig leaf to hide my embarrassing portions.

  “Oh!” she said for the second time. “Can’t you make an illusion to cover yourself?”

  “I still have to recover my aythar,” I replied. I did have enough to make an illusion, most likely, but I was loathe to use it. In the distance I could sense several strong sources of aythar, either mages or some of Tyrion’s krytek. Using what little power I had would make me more visible and render me helpless again.

  Ever practical, Rose took her dagger out again and used it to cut around her waist, turning her dress into what was essentially now a separate skirt and blouse. Then she stepped out of the skirt. Beneath it she had a linen shift that reached halfway down her thighs, so she wasn’t exposed, but she looked damn funny.

  She handed the skirt to me and began to rummage through a handbag that she had somehow managed to hang onto through all the chaos.

  “What am I supposed to do with this?” I asked.

  “Put it on, stupid,” she answered, using a tone she probably reserved for slow children and mentally deficient wizards. Then she pulled out my leather belt, complete with its enchanted pouches. “After you get the skirt up, put the belt around it and roll the edges down over it so it doesn’t slide off. Your hips aren’t up to the task by themselves.”

  “Fucking Mondays,” I muttered, but I did as she suggested. After an awkward minute, I was done. From the waist down, I was now clad in a beautiful blue skirt with gold embroidery decorating the panels. It was trimmed at the bottom edge with delicate lace, and I was almost certain that it didn’t go well with my complexion.

  Rose wasn’t a tall woman, and that fact, combined with the necessity of using several inches of fabric to roll over the top of my belt, meant that the skirt only reached to my mid-calf. “Nice ankles,” remarked Rose, complimenting me.

  “Nice knees,” I replied, reminding her of her own mostly bare legs. Then I took her hand and we set off. The gathering crowd parted as we moved, probably from shock. I doubted there was a mob in the world that could maintain its righteous fury when faced with two people as ridiculous looking as we were just then.

  After we passed through the first ranks, we picked up speed. With my magesight I made a note of the probable magic users in the area and tried to choose a direction that would lead us away from them.

  “Any ideas?” I asked her. Several of the potential mages seemed to be heading toward us, coming from different directions, though they were still out of sight due to the buildings.

  “Your house,” answered Rose immediately. “There are circles there.”

  She was right, though it wasn’t technically my house anymore, since Tyrion had claimed it. Then again, maybe it was. I had seen no sign of him since the explosion. I fervently hoped it had ended his miserable life, but I wasn’t ready to take bets on it yet.

  Either way, the door should still open for me. I was still of the Illeniel bloodline. The big problem was that it was at least a twenty-minute walk from the part of the city we were currently in. We started running.

  “How do you run in these things?” I complained. The skirt kept catching between my legs, threatening to trip me up.

  Rose slowed slightly. “Ordinarily, we don’t. Try lifting them above your knees so they don’t catch your lower legs.”

  Feeling ridiculous, I did as she suggested, which worked. If anyone sees me like this, I won’t have to worry about them calling me the ‘Blood Count’ anymore, I thought sourly, so there’s at least one bright side to this.

  We ran, our feet fairly flying over the cobblestone roads. Rose still wore her cloth slippers, but my feet were bare and within less than a hundred yards I was leaving bloody footprints on the stone. The pain of my torn feet was awful, but worse was the fact that I could sense our pursuers closing in. We weren’t going to make it.

  “They’re close,” I yelled to Rose.

  “They can’t enter the house, can they?” she responded.

  They couldn’t. My house in Albamarl was practically a fortress, but we weren’t going to get there. “It’s too far. Go ahead, I’ll try to lead them away. I don’t think they’re following you,” I told her.

  Many years before, I had attuned several of my friends, giving them access to the house in Albamarl. If Tyrion hadn’t changed it, Rose should be able to open the door. Looking ahead, I saw a lane that branched off to the right. If I took it, the krytek or whoever it was that was coming would likely follow me.

  Rose’s hand caught my wrist. “Together, Mordecai. Don’t make me say it again,” she told me, a fierce look in her eyes.

  I was staring back at her, trying to decide how to lose my fanatical savior, when I saw a shimmer pass through her hair. A shimmer I recognized. Pulling to a halt, I stopped and looked back. Several feet behind us was one of the faint dimensional boundaries.

  She pulled and tugged at me. “Don’t stop!”

  Shaking my head, I held firm. “There’s a way out.” Walking back, I held my other hand up, trying to feel the faint difference in the air where the boundary was. “Trust me,” I added.

  A member of the Royal Guard rounded the corner half a block away, running toward us, but I knew it wasn’t a real guard. It was one of Tyrion’s human-like krytek. Please let me have enough power to do this, I thought silently.

  Pushing my feeble reserves out, I focused on the boundary. I had done it before, I could do it again, but I didn’t have any aythar to waste.

  The krytek slowed down as he neared us, then drew a sword that appeared to be wrapped in a lethal spellweave of some sort. “He’s almost here, Mort!” said Rose, pulling her dagger out once more.

  There! Gripping the boundary with my will, I pried it apart, producing a hole that was perhaps three feet in diameter. “Jump through!” I told her.

  “You first,” she responded. “Or I won’t go.”

  Damn, stubborn woman! I swore to myself, but I knew she wasn’t bluffing. Stepping back, I leapt through, trying to make myself as small as possible. On the other side, I looked back, only to catch Rose’s feet with my face as she made good on her word. Falling back, my head hit the ground with a resounding thud, which saved me the trouble of releasing the portal. The blow had broken my concentration. It snapped shut behind us.

  “Are you alright?” Rose said, lifting my head and staring down at me anxiously.

  “Yeah,” I muttered. Touching my lips, I picked dirt from my mouth. “But I’ve learned at least one thing today.”

  She looked askance at me.

  “If we can’t find food, I’m not eating your shoes. They taste terrible,” I finished, grinning at her through bloody lips. Looking around, I saw we were on what appeared to be a beach. The ground beneath me was a mixture of sand and fine gravel. The sound of waves reached my ears, though I was facing the wrong direction to see them with my eyes.

  “Where are we?” asked Rose.

&n
bsp; “Damned if I know,” I said honestly. A short cliff rose eight or nine feet high at the edge of the beach, and we could see trees behind it. It appeared to be some sort of coastal forest. As I turned around, I saw that the ocean stretched out as far as our eyes could see, reflecting glints of light from the waves. Wherever we were, it was idyllic, almost a scene from a storybook.

  Anxious, Rose asked me, “Do we need to keep running? Can they follow us?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so. Tyrion’s krytek are technically Illeniel krytek, but if they were produced by his tree, which they were, they don’t have the gift. Only Lyralliantha’s children will have it.”

  She gave me a funny look. “You could have just said ‘yes.’ Now I want you to explain all of that to me.”

  So I did; we had time now. Rose Thornbear, while not a mage herself, had a sharp mind and a keen memory, and she had spent years around my family and other mages. It didn’t take long, though my explanation of the Illeniel gift was new to her.

  “But how do you have it?” she asked at the end. “From what you’ve said, only Penelope’s children should have it, and Lynaralla, since she’s Lyralliantha’s child.”

  “I’m not sure,” I hedged. I had my suspicions, but I wasn’t ready to face that yet. Rose pursed her lips, knowing I wasn’t telling the full truth, but she said nothing. Then she shivered, rubbing her shoulders. The breeze coming off the ocean was chilly.

  Ordinarily, I’d have just created a warm bubble of air around us, but I was well aware of how dangerous this world could be. It might seem safe where we were, but I wasn’t willing to trust to that. Remembering my pouches, I opened the largest one and carefully extracted one of my cleverest items—a large wool blanket.

  It wasn’t enchanted, or special in any other way. But given the circumstances, it was now my most prized possession. I’ve been accused of paranoia in the past. My special pouches are filled with a variety of miscellany for use in unlikely situations. Most of the items are enchanted, many for violent purposes, but I had also set aside space for things like the blanket, which I hadn’t used in years.