by J. S. Morin
"Excellent trick," Rashan mused, as he lay charred and smoking on the rocks. Rashan pushed himself up to his elbows and nodded approvingly.
Kyrus cast him a beleaguered look. What further punishment could the demon stand? He felt empty inside, his last spell had dug into his own Source for power.
"You spoke too much of your battle with Jinzan Fehr in Zorren. You bragged of your trick of shielding spells," Kyrus explained.
"Looks like that was not enough though. You have reached the bottom of the bottle, and those dregs are not enough to finish me off, nor to escape me." Rashan climbed to his feet, and retrieved Heavens Cry from where it lay hidden as bait.
The end was at hand, it seemed. Brannis would last long enough to tell Soria that he had failed, but little longer. Kyrus could outdraw the demon easily, but there was no aether to be had, save for within each of their Sources.
"This has been a greater challenge than I can remember," Rashan said. He walked slowly toward Kyrus, who stood staring.
... no aether to be had ...
"I will make sure that your part in this lives on long after you are dead, Brannis," Rashan continued. "I bragged of becoming a dragon slayer, but you ... you are unique, my greatest accomplishment. I am stronger than I was when I faced Loramar, and yet you still pushed me to my limits, where I could have crushed him were he still alive today."
... save for in our own Sources.
Kyrus reached deep into his own Source, calling upon all the aether that was left to him, trusting that there might be a bit left afterward to allow him to survive.
A white-hot plume of hurled fire erupted from Kyrus's outstretched hand, bathing Rashan in an inferno that he had once described as dragonfire. Heavens Cry clattered to the rocks. Rashan was driven back as the fires poured on. The rock beneath the demon's feet melted and flowed.
When Kyrus stopped, he felt as if he had turned out his Source as he would a pocket, dumping the contents upon the mountaintop. He was empty, dizzy, wobbling on his feet—but alive.
There was a stirring from the cooling puddle of molten rock. Rashan was clawing his way toward Heavens Cry.
"Last effort," the demon gasped. "Not quite ... enough. I'll ... heal ... in a few ... moments. Then ... you die."
Kyrus smiled. In the aether, he had noticed something that Rashan seemed not to: the demon's Source was cracked and leaking.
Rashan stiffened, stopped dead in his crawl. "Brannis, what are you doing?"
"I've got hold of your Source, demon," Kyrus replied. He felt his strength returning as he refilled the emptiness from Rashan's own life essence.
"What? That's not possible," Rashan protested. "Stop!"
"I'll agree to stop, but you know my terms," Kyrus said. "I have better things to do than finish you off. Speak quickly. I will not let you go until I am convinced you speak truly. You have until your Source runs dry."
Kyrus knew that the demon's Source had to have been powerful, but it was a richer well of aether than he had realized. Still, while Kyrus had hold of it, any attempt to free himself with magic was just going to hasten his own demise.
"You swear?" Rashan pleaded.
"I do, and my word is more than a trifle better than yours."
"I was Agga, but Agga was dying. Nevermind how I discovered the secret, but I had to take Agga's Source to complete my own," Rashan began. "A puzzle with two pieces." Kyrus nodded along, playing a hand of Crackle for the chance that Rashan would not try to bluff his way to freedom and Brannis's death. He could afford to give nothing away.
"I stumbled upon the immortals by chance, looking for the gate to Tellurak. There used to be dozens of such gates, but I found one in their safekeeping. In those days, proving that I knew the reason for my trip and being able to activate the gate were all they needed to see to allow me passage. They were ready to welcome a rare birth: one of their own kind," said Rashan. Kyrus continued his draw against the demon's Source. There was aether aplenty left, but he had plumbed its depth, and knew that Rashan would have to hurry to finish his tale and seal the bargain if he was to live.
"Then what?" Kyrus asked.
"I found Agga. It was easy, I knew I was coming. I went to my own fortress, ordered my own guards to allow me in, and I claimed my Source. From that moment, I was immortal: one perfect Source, formed of two imperfect pieces."
"How?" Kyrus demanded. "What ritual? Describe it?"
"Is this the test of my truthfulness?" Rashan asked. "The trip between worlds is the trick. There is no ritual! Draw his Source out, and it will fit snugly with yours. Every mortal-born demon has done it."
"And what of Agga? What happened to him?"
"Agga?" Rashan asked, incredulous. "I am Agga!"
Kyrus nodded. I think I finally understand.
"Very well, Agga. I think you should know that my true name is Kyrus Hinterdale—"
"Why would I—"
"... and I am the one who kills you."
Kyrus increased his draw. Rashan shrieked.
"I told you everything! You swore!" the demon protested.
"And I would gladly trade my honor for the lives of all those you might one day murder. I could not live with myself otherwise. Besides," Kyrus said, pausing theatrically to look all around the mountaintop, "it never happened."
"You deceitful, lying ... I hope they hunt you to the ends of the aether!"
"You should appreciate this. This is Rashan's Bargain."
One final tug, and Rashan collapsed, a husk emptied of its aether.
Chapter 35 - My Perfect Match
Once more the inhabitants of Podawei gathered to watch the fate of one of their own play before them. This time however, a mortal was present among them. The sky was darkened, and the pool at the center of the clearing of pines and oaks reflected scenes of a far-off battle. Juliana Archon huddled at the side of the shepherdess of pictures, hugging her knees to her chest.
It was surreal—all of it. She was surrounded by beings whose total age rivaled the stars in the sky, who had personally known the gods, who watched beside her in horrified fascination as one of their own was put to flight by Kyrus and his ravenous Source.
Juliana cried out in anguish at the destruction of the palace courtyard in Kadris. Her family had been among those in attendance. Her parents had to have been there; she knew not whether her sisters or cousins had arrived from their far-flung corners of the empire.
"I am sorry, child," Illiardra said at her shoulder.
Juliana turned and saw the ageless compassion in the demon's eyes. She murmured a thank you and returned her gaze to the pool.
She watched with spiteful glee as Kyrus—showing a pitiless determination that she had wondered if he possessed—ground Rashan between chunks of the palace wall. Rashan was getting his comeuppance at last.
When they both disappeared into transference spheres, the immortal viewers lost them briefly. Illiardra found them a moment later in the streets of Kadris. Kyrus burned down a whole district before forcing Rashan to flee once more, great splashes of water left in their places.
Illiardra was again able to locate Kyrus and Rashan, deep beneath Kadris Harbor. Juliana watched as Kyrus struggled for breath, Rashan slashing at him over and over. She reached out and grabbed Illiardra by the arm.
"You have to save him, please just—"
And then they were gone once more.
"Child, we will not interfere," Illiardra told her.
Juliana felt the shock in the aether as Kyrus emerged from his transference spell. It had come from nearby. She moved to stand, but it was Illiardra's turn to take her by the arm.
"No, they are not so close as you might think," said Illiardra. She gestured to the pond once more where Kyrus was facing down Rashan somewhere in Podawei. "The forest is vaster than you realize."
They stayed not long in the elder wood, but disappeared once more, shaking the aether yet again. Illiardra found them on a mountaintop in the Cloud Wall. The gathered immortals watched as
their chosen champion was nearly defeated. There were gasps and mutterings when Kyrus broke Rashan's immortal Source, and extorted the secret of the immortals from him. They gaped when Kyrus killed him anyway.
"Tallax ..." Illiardra whispered. She had uttered it so softly that Juliana suspected she was not meant to hear it.
Juliana watched in the glassy water as Kyrus took a moment to gather himself. He picked up Heavens Cry and examined it. Juliana saw that it was blackened and scorched, but could not tell whether anything else was amiss with it. Kyrus tucked it into his belt, the sheath having been reduced to cinders by Kyrus's hurled fire.
"Disperse, all of you!" Illiardra shouted. "He will come."
* * * * * * * *
Brannis groaned. Soria brushed sweat-soaked hair from his brow. He opened his eyes, looking up at her in the faded light of the crescent moon.
"I have a plan ..."
* * * * * * * *
Moments later, in Podawei Wood, Kyrus appeared in the air as his transference spell delivered him safely from the mountaintop. He floated gently to the ground, taking his time to avoid hurling chunks of earth halfway across Veydrus.
Juliana rushed into his arms and crushed him in a hug.
"It is done. Rashan Solaran is dead," Kyrus said. He extracted himself from Juliana's embrace, and pulled Heavens Cry from his belt holding it forth as proof. "I left his body on some unnamed rock in the Cloud Wall mountain range."
"That mountain has had fourteen names I am aware of," Illiardra corrected him. "Kadrin cartographers would call it Flat Peak Mountain. Rashan no doubt chose it as his final stand for the plateaued peak upon which to battle."
Kyrus swallowed. "You ... saw that?"
Illiardra clasped her hands. "Yes, we did."
"It's fine, Kyrus, you don't need to be ashamed of lying to that monster," Juliana assured him. "I won't tell anyone, either."
"You saw too—" Kyrus began. He hung his head. "What right do I have to name him the monster? I won my victory, but at what cost?"
Tears rimmed Juliana's eyes. Kyrus knew what he had done; he pulled her close and let her sob against his shoulder. "I'm so sorry," he spoke softly into her ear.
Time paused, it seemed, until Juliana had wept her most immediate sorrows onto Kyrus's tunic. She then pushed him back. "Kyrus," Juliana said, sniffing to hold back further tears, "we have to hurry. We can't just stand here."
Kyrus nodded. "Illiardra, if you were listening, you know Rashan told me you have a portal here that can take me to Tellurak. My twin is dying; I intend to save him. Will you help me?"
"A horse has escaped your stable," Illiardra replied. "Would you then build a wall around the kingdom, lest it flee abroad? Would you build that wall high, lest it leap? Top it with spikes, in case it learned to climb? Construct a dome on the chance it might fly? You have a small problem with a horse. You need not undertake such a remedy to resolve it. Let the horse go free."
"This is not about a horse, this is me. This is my twin, my other half," Kyrus spouted. "I haven't the time to argue. Will you help me or won't you?"
"We will not."
"Juliana's twin told me that you would sooner destroy the gate than see me use it. Would you? Truly?"
"Yes."
"Then destroy it," Kyrus said. "If you will not let me through to Tellurak because you fear what I might become, destroy it, lest I find some clever way past you, or some future sorcerer becomes just as great a threat."
"Why would you have us sunder a gift from the gods?" Illiardra asked. "If you know we would destroy it if you attempt to use it, why would you force our hand?"
Kyrus gritted his teeth and measured his breaths as he studied the inscrutable old demon. He suspected he could not beat her at chess, but Crackle ... Crackle was a game of nerve.
"Fine," Kyrus relented. "Bring Juliana's ship here, and we will leave by it. I find my Source is a bit battered at the moment to try another transference spell, and I have no desire to remain here."
"Kyrus, how can you give up so easily?" Juliana protested—convincingly, Kyrus thought.
"I cannot stop them destroying the portal," Kyrus reasoned. "All I can do is force them to ruin something given to this world by the gods. It would be vain of me to do so."
"But—"
"It will be all right. Just stay by Brannis in his final hours," Kyrus said. To Illiardra he added. "Bring the ship. I would prefer us to be alone—without curious eyes intruding on our grief."
"Very well," said Illiardra. She vanished, and all Kyrus felt was a tingling in the aether.
"I wish I knew how she did that," Juliana said.
"Patience," Kyrus whispered in her ear.
A moment later, Illiardra appeared again, with the Starlit Marauder bobbing in mid-air beside her. The runes glowed but dimly in the aether.
"Will this get us back to Kadris?" Kyrus asked.
"I know little of the workings of your contraption," Illiardra replied. "It will get you away from this place. I suppose I need not tell you that neither of you are welcome back. Juliana, I am sorry for the tragedy to which you return." Juliana hung her head.
"Understood," Kyrus replied. "Come on, Juliana, let's go home."
* * * * * * * *
"Just don't say anything," Brannis warned. "We want to be sure that if they are watching, they have no time to react to stop us." He lay on the rocky stream bed, eyes closed. The pained look on his face was the only sign he was awake when he was not speaking.
"This is crazy," Soria told him. "You know that, right?"
"You don't have to come."
"Of course I do!"
"Then steer us between those oaks, and hold tight."
* * * * * * * *
They were sailing the skies just above the treetops, still within the borders of the elder forest. Kyrus walked to the prow of the Starlit Marauder and set his hands on the railing, leaning out to look down to the forest below. With a turn and a nod to Juliana, the ship descended amid the canopy.
Leaves and smaller branches brushed the ship, the latter scraping along the hull or snapping. Kyrus's shielding spell bore a blow here and there, but it was the lightest duty the spell had seen all morning. The old trees grew close, but only in relation to their scale. The trunks were far enough apart in places that a spear could not be hurled from one to the next. The branches, however, intermingled in the upper reaches.
Kyrus raised a hand and Juliana stopped the ship's slow drift. Reaching up, Kyrus grabbed branches from two separate trees, each no larger than a finger.
"Hold tight," he called back to Juliana.
With a great pull, Kyrus drew forth directly from the Sources of the majestic oaks, draining them, but not quite dry. An instant later, Kyrus used the immense well of aether to envelop the Starlit Marauder in a transference sphere of a size he had never before dared attempt.
The ship and her crew of two reckless twinborn leapt into the deep aether.
* * * * * * * *
There was no sense of ship, no Juliana—just as there had been no Rashan when he brought the demon along—as Kyrus began his journey. The lightness he had always felt during transference now carried with it a subtle heft. He doubted the weight of the ship was the issue, since he had transferred with whole spheres of water and never noticed the effect. The size of the sphere was what sucked at his Source, demanding more aether than he had ever required before.
There was no time for delays, either for Brannis or for Kyrus's Source. Kyrus wondered briefly at the damage he might be causing the elder forest as he increased his draw. He set a simple heading: up.
Though his bodiless form reacted sluggishly, he increased his speed, approaching the dizzying velocities that he had achieved on his trip from Tellurak to Veydrus. He shot out of the sea of Sources that made up Veydrus, and into the empty depths beyond. Kyrus could not close his eyes—he had none to close. Instead, he approximated that mental state that accompanies an attempt to sleep. He let his thinking mind grow du
ll and weary, and let feeling guide him.
He intuited a change in course, but knew not whether it was only a few degrees or they had come full circle. They were beyond sight of the distant well of aether they had started from, caught out in the nothingness.
But it was not quite a nothingness. Kyrus's aether-vision has been stretched and strengthened during his time among the sorcerers of Veydrus. He had grown accustomed to its look, its subtleties. He noticed something that—amid all the swirls of the Veydran aether—had long gone unnoticed. A thin filament of aether wended its way off toward the infinity into which he stared. It was tied at one end to his own Source. The other end was somewhere out there, and they followed it along its course.
Brannis. This is the thread that connects us. I must have felt it on my first journey between worlds and followed it.
The realization firmed his confidence. Kyrus renewed his efforts to propel them, sure of his course. They hurtled through the deep aether, the near void, for how long, Kyrus could not say. He felt the weariness creeping over him. He felt the emptiness inside once more, as he had when he fought Rashan. His Source had not much left to give him.
There was no horizon in the aether, but Kyrus saw in the distance, a knot of blue-white. He hoped they would make it ...
* * * * * * * *
The little world inside the sphere of aether shook. Juliana cowered behind the captain's wheel, holding fast to the lower grips and to her Source. Whatever Kyrus was doing was tearing at it, threatening to rip it out entirely. She felt the gale of aether passing into the sphere from the outside.
Kyrus, you blazing idiot, you're going to kill me before we get there!
But before her prediction could come true, the sphere vanished. She had never been inside one when a transference spell ended, but the shockwave felt far worse inside the aether than it had as a mere witness to the transfer.
Their arrival was met with the scent of briny air and the sensation of falling. The Starlit Marauder tumbled down. It was nighttime and the sky was clear but for a few clouds.
"Kyrus!" Juliana screamed. She saw the exhausted sorcerer slumped over the prow, feet drifting up from the deck as they fell free. She enacted a shielding spell for herself, and tossed Kyrus away from the ship with a telekinetic push.