Chapter Nineteen
Fighting to reach it, Lucan grabbed his pack from its place at the edge of the terrace. He rummaged through it for a moment and pulled out the Key of Amatahns, which Janir had not seen since the mountains.
With an admirable amount of will, Lucan staggered up the terrace steps to the crystal chamber. Janir, Saoven, and Karile lingered close by, not sure if they should trust him but having few other options.
“What are you doing?” Saoven tensed, ready to attack Lucan with his bare hands if need be.
Lucan didn’t answer and the last Argetallam mortahn let off a ferocious battle cry that was abruptly silenced. Janir didn’t have to look to know the man was dead and the empty armor knights were closing in. She swallowed bile in her throat along with an odd feeling of guilt.
“What are you going to do?” Janir panted, casting a fearful look to the advancing horde. Her brother ignored her.
As Lucan brought the Key closer to its place in the chamber’s side, an excited silvery light shone from the chamber and there was a faint whirring. The chamber sensed its missing piece was close. Lucan unceremoniously crammed the Key into the slot.
There was a flurry of light inside the chamber and a thrill of sound. The chamber door swung open. Mist swirled and seeped out the bottom.
Even after all the death around her and being faced with it herself in the near future, Janir was struck by the beauty of the sight. The crystal glistened like a lake in the moonlight or the fog of early dawn. Forgetting that the power inside could kill her or that the empty armor knights were about to, she just stood there staring.
Lucan seized her arm. “I may have failed to bring back the magic contained herein, but I will not fail to see that no one will ever be able to use it. And I will not fail to make certain that you die with me.”
Before Janir realized what happened, Lucan shoved her into the chamber, slammed the crystal door shut, and removed the Key. To make sure that neither Saoven or Karile could rescue her, Lucan tossed the Key into the oncoming horde. Within moments, it was trampled under the heavy armored feet of the dozens of empty arms knights swarming into the hall.
Janir fruitlessly pounded on the door. She kicked all four sides of the chamber and threw her weight into each in turn. As delicate and dainty as the walls appeared, they held firmly as folded steel.
Saoven and Karile shoved Lucan aside as the knights drew closer, thinking only of freeing their friend. They clawed and kicked at the door, trying to pry it open.
Janir fought to break out, but it was useless. She was trapped, she was going to die, and Saoven and Karile were, too. She couldn’t do anything but stare wide eyed at the steadily advancing line of empty armor knights, so utterly helpless she hated herself.
Saoven laid a hand on the chamber, panic written over every line of his face. No sound came through the crystal, but she made out her name on his lips. “Janir!”
Then it started.
Pain, agony, torture—those three words rang through her head as the wisps of blue mist descended from the top of the chamber to pierce her body.
Something hard and sharp drove through her ears, her eyes, her belly, neck, and back. Rods forced through her head down to her legs and from every other angle imaginable. From above and sideways they rammed their way into her flesh like sharp, iron worms.
No matter how she fought to claw and grab, she couldn’t pull the rods out or even touch them. They weren’t tangible, they were magic—the worst and most wretched kind of magic.
Janir screamed, but no sound came, or if it did it was drowned out by the horrible ringing that stabbed at her ears. She was sure something was in her chest, a hand or a claw, and it was crushing—not her heart, but something else.
Blinded with pain, Janir doubled over and pressed against the glass. In a vain attempt to shut out that terrible ringing, she clamped her hands over her ears. The ringing continued and she pressed harder in vain. Light flooded her vision and she clenched her eyelids shut, but that did no good either.
There was a wetness on her face—tears. She was sobbing as the magic tore her apart, slowly. Perhaps she screamed again, but she couldn’t be sure. Her head throbbed as every beat of her heart shot a red hot pulse through every vein.
Thrashing from side to side, Janir tried to shake off the rods of magic, the claws, the ringing, and the lights. There was the sensation of her head hitting the chamber, but those new bruises and all her old ones were nothing compared to the relentless agony of the raw magic. In desperation, she slammed her body into the sides of the chamber, trying to break the crystal walls.
Death—she wanted to die. She begged the magic to let her die. Nothing could be worse than this. It hurt more than she had ever imagined anything to hurt. Not much longer now, she didn’t think she could survive this for more than a few moments. It was too much, she wasn’t strong enough. Every kind of pain imaginable, tearing, slicing, burning, freezing, stabbing—purified and condensed.
With a mounting sense of futility, she curled into a ball at the bottom of the chamber, screaming and struggling, begging the magic to leave her alone or finish this. It went on stabbing at her like an eagle pecking at a stranded fish. She hoped that she would at least faint, but she retained consciousness for every last torturous moment.
Running out of options, she crammed her knees up to her face and pressed her hands as hard as she could over her ears. She rocked to and fro, willing to do anything, if only the excruciation would stop.
Then it was over. There was no other way to put it—the pain ended. She lay there for a moment as the ringing subsided and the lights dimmed.
Shudders racked her body—the uncontrollable convulsions she had felt once before. A viridescent sheen went over her eyes. Something was forcing its mastery over her, assuming command of her actions.
Before, she would have been screaming in pain. But after the chamber, this felt like a pinprick. Groaning, Janir arched her back and just as quickly curled back into a ball. Fighting against the magic, she flipped sideways and writhed on the ground as the fury took possession.
There was rage and anger—fire. Screeching shook the air and sent a tremor through the earth.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Saoven and Karile doubling over with their hands pressed over their ears. Lucan rolled off the steps, collapsing in the fetal position. The empty armor knights stopped without warning.
This was even more powerful than when she had killed Duke Ronan. There was a snapping and cracking inside her. A deep and buried part of her being was shifting and rearranging, becoming something new. It came alive, manifesting itself to unimaginable power, a tidal wave rearing into the clouds.
Awareness flared into Janir’s mind—she could feel the quiet glow of Karile like a candle on a window sill. Saoven was there, too, but with a deeper, more natural glow that reminded her of sunlight dappling a forest floor. Lucan was a black star sapphire, dark and deep yet with a strange glint within his depths.
The empty armor knights nearly blinded her to all else. Shining gold threads laced through every inch of their forms. Tangles of golden light centered over their empty chests, filling the space where their hearts had once been.
Janir explored the golden tangles, reaching without realizing it until she felt the first one snap. There was a sound in her head like a choked cry of relief and then the glowing threads dissipated and the knight crumpled to the ground.
Not quite understanding how she was doing it, Janir reached for the others. She pulled at the delicate lines of enchantment, tearing away the threads of the spells to a wordless chorus of liberated voices.
The crystal chamber trembled precariously, cracked, and shattered into countless shards. Rushing away like a released river, Janir’s power swept over the empty armor knights.
The wave of magic ripped them to pieces. Each individual thread of light was torn from the others and flickered into oblivion. The antiquated suits of armor fell like
houses of sticks. They scattered like chaff in the wind.
The green glow in her eyes dimmed until it was in natural light again. Janir felt stretched, thinned into frailty. Slowly, Janir’s—power, mind, soul, whatever it was—returned, draining back into her bones and blood agonizingly slow.
When she looked up, she was lying on the ground powdered in crystal shards. No longer did she feel the magic around her. For a moment, she felt blind. Strong hands gathered her up from the stone, brushing away the broken bits of crystal.
Someone was speaking, sounding far away and panicked. “Janir!”
“Saoven?” Sweat beaded her forehead and she was finding it hard to hold her eyes open.
Karile was talking at ninety words a minute using terms she didn’t understand or care to. Gently, Saoven helped her sit and steadied her against his side.
Janir didn’t want to move, she didn’t want to speak. Exhausted, she only wished to curl up and sleep. Taking a shuddering breath, she let her eyelids slide shut.
“Impossible!” Lucan gasped.
“It’s obviously not impossible, because it’s happening, you idiot,” Karile quipped. “What’s impossible?” he added as an afterthought.
“You…” Lucan made to scramble away as if she were a venomous serpent, but his wound kept him from moving more than a few inches. “You absorbed it!” Lucan gasped. “You took in the power…of an entire race!”
Following this thought to its logical reasoning required far more effort than she would have liked. “What is your point?” Janir forced her lips to move.
Saoven guarded her anxiously. He said nothing, but his concern was almost a palpable thing. Janir would have appreciated his care far better if her mind had been working properly.
Lucan now seemed to be speaking to himself more than to anyone else. “Of course,” he growled, “the magic takes on the likeness of the vessel.” Soon he was speaking so fast that Janir’s weary mind could barely keep track of the words. “It became a part of you because it was raw, unaffected by the presence of a wielder. We were created with magic and that must have been how—”
A tremor shook the temple. A rumbling deep in the heart of the earth rattled their surroundings and made the armor plates dance upon the stone.
“We need to get out of here,” Janir reasoned, clambering to her feet. Karile and Saoven reached out to help her, but she waved them both away so as not to offend Karile. She felt much better than just a few seconds ago, perhaps the threat of danger had something to do with it.
“Stay close and do not become separated,” Saoven ordered.
He made to run and Janir was about to dash after him when she remembered Lucan. He was lying on his side, glowering as if daring her to just try and pity him.
“Wait!” Janir shouted, not looking at her brother. “We can’t just leave him.”
Karile huffed. “Janir—”
“Saoven, please.” Janir looked to the elf beseechingly. In a lower voice she added, “He’s hurt.”
“He tried to kill you.”
“He’ll die down here if we leave him.”
Saoven opened his mouth to protest, but a rumble shook the ground and a large chunk of the dome fell close to their exit. “For you!” he shouted.
Janir snatched her karkaton back, just a little more aggressively than she had intended, and stuffed them into what was left of her bodice cincher. After making sure Lucan had no more weapons, Saoven slung his arm over his shoulders and all but carried him back toward the bridge. Lucan limped along without so much as a wince of pain, though he went deathly pale.
Janir beckoned for Karile…where was that little cur? She glanced back to see him gingerly sifting through the plates of armor.
“Come on!” Janir bounded to grab him by the collar and drag him along. “What are you thinking?”
He shouted something indistinct and indignant. Janir set him up on his feet and took Lucan’s other arm as they charged onward.
She couldn’t bring herself to look at the bodies of the mutilated Argetallams. She stumbled past them as quickly as she could, certain their gruesome and brutal deaths would soon join Duke Ronan in her nightmares.
It was far more hazardous crossing the great stone bridge the second time. Countless metal plates lay as thick as fall leaves on a forest floor. The earth was groaning, shifting, and disassembling itself, crumpling now that the enchantments of the temple had been destroyed.
The long run back through the maze of tunnels felt even longer carrying Lucan and with rubble and stray rock raining from the ceiling. Confusion and chaos reigned like cruel kings. Dirt and dust that had been settled for ages was thick in the air and the whole temple shuddered. The massive stone colossus, which had seemed so strong and immovable before, was surrendering to the earth.
Janir was certain that they was going to die more than once. In the smog of dust, so thick it made her choke, Saoven’s voice and Lucan’s heavy weight against her side were the only way she knew she was not alone.
The grit of the temple was in her eyes, even her teeth were coated in the grime. At one point she tripped on a stray brick and fell to the ground, nearly dragging Lucan down with her.
Her head struck something in the viridescent dust cloud and her fingertips came away with blood. Dirt caked around the wound, drawn like moths to light at dusk. She had no idea how Karile knew where she was in the smog, nonetheless, his bony fists caught her collar and hauled her upright.
Just when Janir was beginning to wonder if they would ever be able to get out, the light of early dawn, not the sickly lights of the temple, shone ahead. Karile let off a squeak of joy and dashed in front, only to jerked to a halt with a cry of surprise.
The others nearly ran into him as they broke out of the dust to the least welcome sight in that moment—four red scaled faces looming overhead, jaws clicking threateningly. The beasts hung back, not venturing to enter the temple itself.
Saoven shoved Lucan and Janir behind him—though she expected it was less out of concern for Lucan. Her brother was so pale and weakened by now that he didn’t even spare a scowl.
Despite Saoven’s efforts, Janir stepped past the others to stand beside the elf and face the four mazag. They couldn’t go back, the temple was collapsing even as they stood there. Soon even this part would doubtless be crumbling. A quick evaluation of the circumstances revealed that they could not best four angry hissing mazag with only her karkaton. Fighting their way out of this was not an option. Their only hope was to reason with the beasts.
“The Egg. Return the egg, soft skins,” growled the larger, cleverer of the group.
“We need to get out,” Janir said as calmly as she could, which was less than impressive. “Please let us pass.”
“Give us the Egg.”
“Please,” Janir pleaded with mounting desperation. “We don’t have it anymore. If you don’t let us out…we’ll die.”
It was a ridiculously weak argument, even to her own ears. But it was true and she could think of no negative outcome for the mazag. Saoven and Karile stared at her sideways.
“You really think they’re going to listen to begging?” Lucan sneered.
Janir didn’t think he was striking the right tone considering they had just saved his life, but she ignored him. “If we have wronged you, we will do everything we can do make it right…please just let us out.”
“The Egg.”
“I told you,” Lucan scoffed. Did he not care whether he lived or died?
The lead mazag pawed at the empty entrance with frustration, hissing and jerking back as soon as it touched the threshold. “The spells of this place are still strong, even after an eon. You must fetch the Egg for us.”
Saoven and Karile watched for a moment. She could see the cogs turning in their heads as they pieced together what was happening.
“You can understand them?” Saoven asked.
Janir blinked. “I…thought you could, too.”
“Wh
at do they want?” Karile cut to the chase as he usually did when death was on the line.
“Egg. The Egg. We will have it.”
“They want the Key of Amatahns.” Which happened to be buried under thousands upon thousands of tons of stone and earth at that moment.
Behind her, Karile raised a tentative hand. “I…er…have it,” he sheepishly admitted. At a sharp look from Saoven, he continued. “That’s what I was grabbing, you see. When I was shoveling through all that armor.”
Lucan rolled his eyes as if the enchanter had claimed that fireflies eat stars.
It didn’t take long for Saoven to reach a conclusion. “If we return it to them, will they swear not to harm us?”
The lead mazag clacked. “Upon the blood of our den mothers and the blood of our hatchlings, we so swear.”
Janir relayed the message or the general gist of it.
Saoven made up his mind quickly, hurried by the ever closer crashing and collapse of the temple around them. “If the Key is what they want, then we have no choice but to give it to them.”
“Must we?”
“Enchanter, the temple is collapsing about our ears and you ask if we must try it? Yes!” Saoven shouted the last word with unrestrained irritance.
Karile gave a reluctant sigh and drew the shining silver egg out of his robe.
“What is the point of stealing, if you’re just going to give it back?” he muttered. “Getting some recognition would have been nice.”
“You said you were protecting—”
“Don’t tell me what I said!” Karile cut her off. “Besides, I could have done both.”
“Stop your bickering and hand the Essences-damned thing over!” Lucan winced and clutched at his wounded side, looking away lest they see his pain.
Cradling the egg in both hands, the enchanter knelt by the threshold of the doorway. Carefully placing it on the very edge, he tapped it, letting it roll to the mazag’s side.
The lead mazag snatched it up in its jaws and swallowed in the bat of an eye.
“All that, just to eat it!” Karile indignantly screamed.
“It is the safest way to transport a Queen,” the beast replied. Janir relayed the sentence.
Karile blinked for a moment. “Wait, you’re saying that thing is your next nest mother or what have you, but the outer shell was made to unlock the chamber and that’s been around since who knows when…how old are you?”
“Alright.” Saoven steered them back on topic and stepped just to the edge of the threshold. “We have given you what you want. Now will you keep your bargain?”
The mazag swished their tails contemplatively. For an agonizingly long moment, they didn’t budge. Janir found herself with an impulse to draw her karkaton, but just when she was certain the beasts would renege on their agreement, they took several steps back.
Janir and her bedraggled little group stumbled out of the temple without a moment to spare. They staggered to the edge of the clearing with the mazag trailing placidly after them. By the time they reached an arrow shot from the temple, it was being swallowed by the earth.
Soon nothing remained of the great Temple of Amatahns save for a dusty sinkhole filled with broken stones.
The Key of Amatahns Page 37