"How're your reserves?" he whispered to Tiran.
Tiran bit his lower lip. "Not much yellow and green left."
"Damn."
Someone tapped Deril's shoulder. "I think I've got a lot left."
Deril turned to see the boy who claimed to be a Sunlord. "You can't participate in this. If you are what you think you are, you are too important. You can't risk yourself."
"But I can help," he said.
Faina put a hand on his shoulder. "He's right, Kadin. You aren't very experienced with your weaves. You'll put too much at risk if you try to help."
Around the room, people were talking. Some had already moved to join Arna. Others had joined Deril. He didn't want to think about how many would aid his cause. Yes, he'd delivered a convincing speech, but surely these people would side with Arna. They were Fireweavers after all, whether or not they supported Halarik's Chosen.
Deril grabbed Kadin by the shoulders. "I know you want to help, but you need to listen to her." He looked at Faina. "You may help, though."
"I'll do what I can."
Only a few people remained in the center of the chamber, as though hesitant to take sides. Some strode toward the exit, but most stayed in the room. The numbers looked close to even. Perhaps a few more stood at Arna's side, but Deril couldn't be sure.
The last few people finally decided. Two went to Arna, one to Deril. Just when it seemed everyone was done, Davin left Arna's side. She watched him go with narrowed eyes.
"I thought you loved me," she said.
Davin turned back to her. "I'm sorry, but I can't love what you're doing."
"Thank you," Deril said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "That couldn't have been easy."
"Doing the right thing rarely is."
Deril surveyed the two groups, making a quick count. Eleven people stood on his side, including him, while Arna's group consisted of twelve. To his relief, Kadin had drifted toward the back of the room, but the boy looked like he wanted to fight.
"I can't believe this," Sondir said. "A fight in our own headquarters."
Arna's face was a frozen mask. "We do what we must. Sacrifices are sometimes necessary."
Without warning, a wall of flame burst to life at the front of the group, engulfing Deril, Sondir, and Tiran. Deril reacted, weaving as much of a shield as he could manage, but the fire burned against his skin. He staggered backward from the heat.
A quick glance to the right. Tiran remained standing. Sondir didn't even look singed.
No time to plan. Deril wove Red and Orange, sending his own wall of flame at the opposing group. Most of them cast shields, but a few caught on fire and danced around, trying to extinguish the flames. Then the chaos began.
Weaves flew back and forth like nothing Deril had ever seen. Walls of flame. Bursts of lightning. The ground itself trembled and cracked, opening holes that briefly trapped people on both sides. He threw every weave he had at his enemies, barely conscious of what he was doing.
It wasn't long before his Yellow ran out and he could no longer weave shields. Someone kept him protected, though. Perhaps Kadin. That was a way he could get involved in the battle without putting himself in too much danger.
Deril's heart pounded. Sweat drenched his clothes. The room was aglow with the light of flames, awash with the sound of grunts and screams, of curses and exclamations.
Something hot burned against Deril's face. He recoiled as the room became brighter than ever. Yelling. Explosions. Earthquakes. It all blended together in a mess of confusion. At times, he bumped into furniture. Most of the time, he had no idea where he was.
The two sides had blended together now. Those with swords were hacking at opponents indiscriminately. The shouting became louder than ever. Deril tripped over a body lying in front of him as smoke filled the chamber, obscuring everything. Whose body was it?
No. He couldn't think about that right now.
A man came rushing at Deril, ready to plunge his sword through Deril's chest. Coughing, Deril dodged the lunge and stabbed his own sword through his opponent's heart. When he removed it, the man hit the ground, moaning and writhing.
Deril retreated but fell again. Now it seemed like people might trample him in the chaos. Someone kicked him hard in the side, cracking a rib. Sharp pain stabbed through him, and for a moment, he thought he might black out.
But he got to his feet, each cough sending excruciating pain through his ribcage. Everything in the room that could burn—plants, scattered wooden furniture, books—was on fire, and the smoke was thicker than ever, almost suffocating. Deril retreated, trying to find a spot where his vision would be clearer. How could anyone know whom to attack in this chaos?
"Someone put out the damn fires!" Arna shouted over the din.
Most of the flames burned toward the center of the chamber, but the smoke had filled the rest of the area. Everyone stopped fighting, and people rushed off into another part of the building, then returned shortly with buckets of water, which they threw on the fire.
"Let's end this," Sondir said, stepping to the center of the room. "You've made your point, Arna. We don't need this unnecessary bloodshed."
Arna's expression was hard. "This is only a reprieve. I will take over the Brotherhood, and there will be changes. The world will soon be very different, and it needs a leader like me."
Soon the fires were extinguished, but the smoke remained thick. Deril used the momentary calm to check on the wounded. Two Fireweavers on his side were dead. Others had suffered injuries but remained capable of fighting. So far, everyone he cared about remained alive, but how long would it remain that way?
Deril stepped to the back corner of the chamber, close to Sondir's office, where Kadin stood.
"You look like you've been fighting," Deril said, giving Kadin a sharp look.
"It's hard to stay out of the fight," Kadin said. He sounded so young, so fragile. It was hard to believe this boy had killed two people—even harder to believe he might be a Sunlord.
"Well, try your best."
"I've been shielding you mostly," Kadin said, withering beneath Deril's gaze. "But some of the people have gotten back here and attacked me. I have to defend myself."
"I know that," Deril said, checking that no one could hear him. "But you have to be especially careful. If I can train you to become a Sunlord, then we won't have to worry about Halarik returning at all. There will be two Sunlords."
"But I thought I was already a Sunlord," Kadin said.
"Not yet. Not until you first feed the sun with your own power."
Kadin's eyes became wide. "You're saying I could prevent all this?"
"Yes, and that's why you need to stay safe. Leave the chamber if you have to."
Kadin glanced toward the smaller rooms off to the side, then returned his gaze to Deril. "No, I can't do that. I need to protect you. How else will I train to be Sunlord?"
Deril's chest tightened. He hadn't thought of that. Only two people in the entire world were familiar with Sunlord training—him and Karik. In better times, the Sunlord spent much of his day training potential Sunlords, dozens of them. Not two.
"Just make sure you're safe," Deril said. "Please."
"I'll do my best."
Arna's voice rang throughout the room. "I think we've rested long enough. It's time to settle this."
Deril focused on his reserves, which had almost dwindled to nothing. Likely, the Fireweavers had recovered some of their power, but Deril couldn't regain his reserves without going out in the sunlight.
"You ready?" he asked Tiran.
"No, but what choice do we have?"
Deril scanned the faces of those remaining on his side. In the preceding chaos, they had suffered fewer losses than Arna's people, but that didn't make Deril feel better. He looked across the smoky room, toward Arna's group, and shuddered. Arna was busy conferring with them, likely planning something terrible.
Deril turned to Tiran. "We need our own plan."
"No
time for that."
Deril looked back to see Arna striding toward him. "Deril Anduri, I challenge you to a duel. Anything is allowable. Castings. Weaves. Swords. Even fists if you so desire."
"Why challenge me?" Deril said.
"You took leadership of your side, and we've decided that we might actually want to end this. It's a shame to spill Fireweaver blood. The rules are simple. If you win, we'll surrender. If I win, your group will surrender."
"We agreed to no such rules," Deril said.
"No, but I can see that your side is exhausted and inexperienced. Those of us in Halarik's Chosen have trained much more. We knew a day like this would come. We worked to make it happen. If we resume this battle, your side will lose. And I don't wish to spill more Fireweaver blood."
"You don't know that we'll lose," Deril said, but he knew it was true. He could see the exhaustion in Tiran's eyes, the fact that many of the best fighters on his side lay dead. For all his power, Sondir was a politician, not a warrior. Davin was good, but he was the best they had. Faina looked ready to collapse. Kadin had orders to stay out of the battle.
Sondir stepped forward, grasping Deril's shoulder. "She's right. If there's a way to handle this without killing anyone else, we have to take it."
"We should be allowed to choose our champion," Deril said, turning back to Arna.
"You're not in a position to bargain," she said. "This duel is your only chance."
And it's a sure victory for you, Deril added silently. "I suppose I have to accept."
"Good," Arna said. "My people will cast a shield around the duel. If you attempt to harm them in any way, we will battle again, and you will lose."
Deril turned to his group. "Do you accept these terms?"
They nodded wearily, covered in sweat and soot. He felt the same way. With his cracked rib and depleted light reserves, he stood no chance. That was why she'd agreed to the duel. It was a way for her to escape with the fewest casualties on her side, a way that would ensure her victory.
He took a deep breath. "Then we duel."
Chapter 34: The Duel
Deril and Arna cleared a large spot in the center of the stone chamber, and then Arna's Fireweavers cast the shield around them. It shimmered in the air, and Deril felt trapped. His chest tightened. Every breath sent shooting pain through his ribs.
Arna stood opposite him, her face set in grim determination. He glared at her, faking confidence he didn't feel, and checked his light reserves. He had a lot of Red and Orange remaining, but his Yellow and Green were gone. Blue and Purple would do him no good in a duel.
When he twisted his body, he grimaced at the pain from his cracked rib. How could he use his sword when every movement was excruciating?
He met Arna's gaze. "Are we conducting this by official dueling rules?"
"If you insist."
"I do," Deril said. "What colors can you weave?"
"I can cast and weave with every color but Purple."
"I can cast and weave every color," Deril said.
Arna showed no reaction. "May we begin now?"
Deril nodded, wishing he could find some way to delay this—or better yet, escape it. Kadin was right about one thing; there was no one else in the world who could train him. Deril couldn't think about that, though, couldn't afford to add more pressure to an already difficult situation.
Arna attacked first, sending a wave of fire at Deril. He couldn't weave a shield, so he cast Green instead, trying to negate the heat of the flames. They burned against his skin, but not so hot that they'd do damage. When the flames died, he did his own Red/Orange weave.
Flames surrounded Arna, but she raised a shield that kept them from touching her. Deril held the weave steady, trusting in his powers, his talent. Perhaps he could outlast her. At some point, she would deplete her Yellow and Green reserves, and then she'd be vulnerable.
Or at least he hoped so.
His heart pounded, and sweat drenched him. He kept the flames going for a long time, monitoring his Red and Orange reserves. For the moment, he had enough.
Arna remained behind her shield, which held steady, the flames flying around it. Her expression was confident, and Deril worried that he might have met someone too powerful to defeat. After all, Red/Orange weaves depleted light reserves faster than Yellow/Blue weaves. Any offensive weave was more tiring than a shield.
It might take a while, but he would lose.
* * * * *
Kadin stood in the back corner of the chamber, legs trembling as he watched the duel. Faina hung beside him. Toward the front of the group, Tiran looked like he wanted to intervene.
Kadin felt the same way. Only Deril could teach him how to be a Sunlord. Without Deril, the world was in trouble. But what could Kadin do? That Fireweaver, Arna, had made the rules very clear. No one could intervene in the duel. All they could do was watch Deril die.
"We have to do something," Kadin said, meeting Faina's worried gaze.
"I'm trying to think of something, but I have no ideas at all."
"Well, someone has to do something. We can't just let Deril die." Kadin stepped forward and put a hand on Tiran's shoulder.
Tiran jumped. "Don't startle me like that."
"Sorry," Kadin said. "You probably know about these things a lot better than I do. Is there any way Deril can win this battle? It looks like they're battling to a draw right now."
Tiran didn't meet Kadin's eyes. "The weave Deril is doing will run out before Arna's shield does. Then he'll be vulnerable. I think he used a Green casting to survive her flames earlier, but she knows that now. She'll use a Red/Yellow weave next, and he can't block that."
Kadin's chest tightened, and his legs felt wobbly. "That's the field of lightning, isn't it?"
"Yes, and without a shield, he's defenseless."
"Then we have to do something to help him," Kadin said, heart pounding. Tiran looked away, deep in thought.
At the other side of the chamber, the Fireweavers were all focused on holding the shield around the duel. They wouldn't be ready for a surprise attack.
Kadin turned back to Tiran. "We have to attack them. It's the only way."
"That'll start the battle again. We won't win."
"Not if we manage to kill them first," Kadin said. He didn't like the thought of killing, but it was necessary. It wasn't like his father, or at least that was what he told himself.
Deril looked weaker than ever as he kept the flames going. He could barely stand, and even from a few dozen feet away, Kadin could see that Deril was shaking.
"We have to act now," Kadin said, beckoning Faina and the remaining Fireweavers to them.
"We can't do this," Tiran said. "It dishonors the duel."
"I don't care about honor," Kadin said, gripping Tiran's shoulder. "Deril is the only person who can teach me to be a Sunlord. That could be the only way to keep Halarik from returning."
Tiran chewed on his lower lip, casting another anxious glance at the duel. "I don't like it, but you're right. We have to take the risk." He turned to the rest of the group, keeping his voice low. "Red and Orange."
The others nodded, and Kadin prepared alongside them. He focused on a Red casting, hoping it would turn into a Red/Orange weave as it had before. Like he had in the prison, he thought about joining his weave with everyone else's. A strange feeling he didn't understand.
Flames erupted at the other side of the chamber, engulfing the Fireweavers. Screams rang out, and people hit the floor. The air around the duel shimmered as the shield dissipated.
Chaos began again as weaves flew around the chamber. Kadin helped keep the flames going, but out of the corner of his eye, he watched Tiran charge toward the duel, where Deril had kept his focus. Tiran rushed toward Arna, his sword drawn.
He couldn't push through Deril's flames, though, and Kadin knew Deril couldn't let those flames die, not without exposing himself to Arna's attacks.
But then Deril collapsed, and the fire died. Tiran continued his
dash toward Arna. When he was a foot from her, she turned and hit him with a bright blast of lightning. He flew backward, hitting the ground hard, and he didn't move. Kadin's stomach lurched. The others had the Red/Orange weave under control. He had to help Deril and Tiran.
With Tiran lying still on the stone floor, Arna advanced on Deril. Deril tried to push himself to his feet, but his arms and legs collapsed. Kadin's heart climbed into his throat.
He sent his own Red/Orange weave at Arna, but her shield absorbed the flames. Kadin wasn't strong enough to do anything. His heart pounded, and his legs quivered. He glanced around the room, hoping for help, but everyone else was involved in a battle. Some of the other side's Fireweavers had fallen, but those who remained were fighting.
Kadin froze, his heart thudding in his ears. Arna now stood over Deril. She pointed a finger at him and was about to perform the weave that would kill him. He stared up at her, looking defeated, his eyes wide as he scooted backward in a futile effort.
Shouts and grunts came from behind Kadin, but he ignored them. He could focus on nothing but the scene in front of him. What weave could he do that wouldn't harm Deril?
No. Not a weave, a casting. He focused on Orange, directing it at Arna. The casting hit her in the back, and she splayed forward, screaming in agony. Kadin kept the casting going, trying not to think about his father's screams. He had to do this, had to kill her.
But then she stopped screaming. Damn. She'd woven her shield to stop the casting.
She turned to Kadin, her eyes gleaming with anger. Kadin reached for his Yellow and Blue reserves but found nothing there. He couldn't weave a shield.
She pointed at him, ready to unleash the killing weave.
Kadin closed his eyes, waiting for pain and death.
"Kadin, move!"
Kadin opened his eyes to see Tiran had gotten to his feet. Staggering, he stepped in front of Kadin. Arna unleashed her weave at the same moment, and a wall of searing flame burst to life. Kadin coughed and recoiled from the heat as the flames engulfed Tiran.
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