“Who are you?” I asked. My voice sounded weak in comparison, scarcely loud enough to penetrate beyond the lake of agate.
“I am no one. I am many. It doesn’t matter. All you need to know is that the fight is hopeless.”
In my hand, the sword was as heavy as a bucket of stones. A whine squeaked through my lips as I struggled to keep it aloft. What was happening? During the battle for Jaliss, I’d stood on this same circle of red stone and struck at shadows as they advanced from the pillars. Somehow, I’d known that the darkness had represented the Riftspawn. My sword could free them from the corruption. Their bodies had been as incorporeal as mist as I’d sliced through their ranks. Though I’d struck down a thousand shadows, I’d felt certain I could banish the darkness from ten thousand more.
“Nothing is ever hopeless,” I said, echoing the words Parveld had once told me. Of course, he’d confessed he’d struggled to believe his own declarations at times, but I still found strength in the memory. Savra and I needed to find the man. Like her, I couldn’t bring myself to believe the Hunger had claimed him. Not after seeing what he could do with his magic.
“How is Savra?” the voice asked.
“What—”
I didn’t have time to finish my question before the first shadow struck. A formless blot of darkness, it sprang from behind a pillar with a piercing wail. As I swung a sluggish attack toward its core, I staggered, the weight of the blade throwing me off balance. But the tip pierced the darkness, and it dissolved like smoke in a gust of wind.
“How do you know her?” I asked.
“I know everyone. We are all the same. All one. You just don’t realize it yet.”
Another shadow leaped from the darkness, splitting into three shapes as it neared. Screaming to funnel strength into my strike, I swung, slicing the attackers and scattering them. The force of my attack spun me around, and I lost my footing. My knee cracked the floor as I fell. My sword went flying, clanging against the agate and skittering toward the edge of the circle. I staggered to my feet, trembling fists raised. I didn’t know if I could fight the spirits of the Riftspawn bare-handed, but the sword was so far away. I didn’t have the strength to reach it.
“You’re the Hunger,” I said.
The voice laughed. “No. Not yet. Do you remember our talks, Kostan? I learned much from you. I look forward to the day when you join me.”
“Parveld?” His name fell from my lips as the sickening certainty filled my heart. He’d warned us. We just hadn’t believed.
“I told you, I’m no one.”
“You can fight this,” I said. “You worked too hard to stop the Breaking to give up now.”
“There’s nothing to fight. It’s you who insists on violence. Look at you, fists raised, eyes searching for a foe...”
“You said the corruption would drive you mad. Try to remember.”
“Mad?” Parveld laughed, his disembodied voice causing pillars to tremble. From somewhere high above, dust began to sift down. “Humans are so flawed. Do you know, I still feel guilty for my ignorance. But how was I to know? In any case, I am sorry for the suffering you and your subjects will endure in the coming days. If I were stronger, this would be faster. But it’s… difficult.”
“Are you helping the Riftspawn?” I asked. “They’ve changed.”
“Helping? I am the Riftspawn.”
He was mad. I couldn’t avoid the truth. Poor Parveld. My heart panged at the memory of the gentle mage who had marched through the centuries alone, burdened by the knowledge of the Breaking and the changes it heralded for my Empire. And in the end, the Hunger had taken him. Apparently, though, it hadn’t stripped him of his magic. How else could he follow me into the Heartstone’s chamber? I shuddered at the thought of so much power commanded by a madman.
“Where are you?” I asked. “Savra and I made a promise to you before the Hunger took you. Can you fight the corruption long enough to tell me?”
From the shadows at the edge of my vision, the hissing of the Riftspawn grew louder. Closer. I sucked in a breath as liquid shadow began to fill the spaces between pillars.
“Better,” I said. “Can you help me fight them?”
“Enough of this,” Parveld said with a heavy sigh that sounded like air gusting through the stone forest. “We’ll have much time to talk in coming days. I believe I’ve gained enough mastery of my joined powers to enable it… But first, I must finish this task.”
Abruptly, my sword was back in my hand, its weight pulling me down.
With a thousand wails that shook the cavern, the Spawn flowed into the space around me. I yelled and swung, striking one, two.
The first tongue of shadow touched my arm with a numbing shock. I staggered and fell. Distantly, I heard the clatter of my blade against the ground. More strikes chilled my limbs, my torso. I tried to scream as the frigid dark pressed me down. In the last moments before my awareness faded, an icy casing wrapped my mind.
Chapter Nine
Savra
Near the Heartstone, Jaliss
KOSTAN’S SHINING WARRIOR towered so high I could scarcely see its head. My pulse raced as I craned my neck.
“Amazing,” I whispered while projecting a similar thought toward it. Him. Over the last two days, I’d become more certain in my interpretation of Cartilla’s message. The warrior was conjured by Kostan’s nobility and controlled by his mind. It made sense--during the first battle for Jaliss, Kostan had been sent to an imaginary chamber where he’d fought shadowy foes.
Now, he crouched with head bowed, palms pressed against the stone. A group of six wary-eyed protectors stood guard in a circle around their Emperor.
The glowing being gave no hint that he’d heard me. Protectors and mages hurried back and forth across the Heartstone, oblivious that they were striding through the warrior’s ghostly feet. As far as I knew, only I could see the towering figure.
A sucked in a breath when, with a cry like a thousand bells, the warrior raised its wickedly curved blade. I’d seen a sword like that before, in the hand of a statue. The granite sculpture had guarded the ancient keep where Stormshard had rallied its army. Inside the keep’s banquet hall, stone pillars had been capped by gemstone spheres as polished as the Heartstone. I was sure the ruins and the Heartstone were related. I just wasn’t sure how.
The warrior struck. Quick. Powerful. A massive foot came down in the center of a Heights mansion, plunging through the roof. The brilliant sword streaked toward the edge of the city. Far below, a single Riftspawn had broken from the army’s flank. I flung myself into my aura-sight and glimpsed the Spawn’s roiling spirit as the ethereal weapon tore into it, spraying corruption from the beast like blood.
In the blade’s wake, the Spawn staggered. I remembered the blade’s effect from our battle for Jaliss. Without the fetid compulsion of the Hunger driving the beast, it was nothing but a confused and twisted creature desperate for peace. With the taint, Riftspawn were savage. Corrupt and maddened.
Except now, the Spawn force on the plain didn’t act like the ravaging beasts we’d confronted before. Mindless monsters didn’t organize into armies. They didn’t wait outside a city and then act on cue.
Something was wrong. I couldn’t make out details of the monsters’ physical shapes, so I fell deeper into my aura-sight. I forced my focus toward the Spawn that had just felt the warrior’s sword. Suddenly, my sight moved. I gasped as my view suddenly flew forward. As if I’d glided over the rooftops to reach it, the tangled spirit grew in my sight.
Projection, Lilik muttered. Parveld thought the ability had vanished. Soon she’ll be spirit walking.
Don’t give her any ideas, Raav said.
But it would be useful, wouldn’t it? As long as she understood her limits?
I still think it’s too dangerous.
I shut out the rest of the couple’s conversation and focused on the Riftspawn. Its aura was bright in my vision, its mismatched body
a silhouette against the grassland. The monster stumbled backward, in full retreat before a small group of protectors.
It was fleeing. Another behavior we hadn’t seen before.
I strained harder, forcing my aura-sight to stretch even farther. Distantly, I felt the stress the effort put on my body. Sinking to my knees, I kept my focus on the beasts. I needed to know what had changed.
There. I spotted the difference. A thread of corruption remained in the fleeing Spawn. It looked as if the tendril reached back toward the small army, binding the beast to the larger group. A trickle of horror tunneled through our bond as Lilik glimpsed the tendril, too.
I tried to follow the thread to its end, but the effort was too much. My control over my sight began to slip.
Hold it a moment longer, Savra, Lilik said. Please.
Lilik perceived the world through me. She needed my senses. I tried to keep a grip on my aura-sight, but it was so difficult. Beneath my hands, the sensation of rough granite faded. My head started to spin.
What is it? I asked.
Can’t you see? Focus on the army. Aura projection is a struggle, I know. But please try.
What is aura—?
Not now. Just focus.
Shivering under the strain, I turned my attention to the mass of abominations on the grassland. The Spawn army remained at quiet attention as another small group stepped from the ranks and advanced. The sight of their rot-infested spirits made my stomach clench.
Muck-strewn tides, she whispered. Oh, Paono.
Her words sent a shock through me. Wait..is Parveld out there? The mage had changed his names over the centuries, but when he and Lilik had grown up together, she’d known him as Paono.
I can’t be sure—Yes, I think so. Not here, but he’s part of this.
How can you know?
Look.
With a great surge of warmth, I felt Lilik’s energy flow from the bracelet and bolster my aura-sight.
My head felt light. I couldn’t handle the sudden influx. I felt I was losing control of my sight. I don’t—
This is harder than I thought, the woman said. Her voice strained as she shoved deeper into my core, strengthening me with her spirit and guiding my awareness. I don’t know how Tyrak managed it so casually. Look, Savra.
Panic stirred as my vision arrowed toward the army. Above the Spawn’s forces, a tangled net of corruption writhed. It was a massive cobweb covered in oil and dust. As I recoiled, trying to retreat from the horror of it, my sight defied me and skimmed farther over the grasslands. My mouth went stale. Beyond the huddled force of Riftspawn, a filthy woven cord snaked away over the Atal Plateau.
What is it? I asked.
Hold on. I think I can…
With a burst of power, Lilik wrapped herself tighter around my aura-sight and guided it along the rope of filth. As we sped forward, my perception thinned to a focused thread. Faster by the heartbeat, we skimmed over league upon league of grassland. I felt stretched, ready to snap, but Lilik’s presence was an iron casing around me.
Lilik? Raav asked. What are you doing? You’ll lose her.
The man’s voice was so very distant. How far had we come? Nearly a tenday’s travel by horse, I’d guess.
It’s okay, Raav. The Spawns’ connection provides an anchor. We won’t lose the way back.
I don’t like this.
I know, but we have to see what’s out there. Parveld has woven the Spawn together. I’m sure of it.
Abruptly, we stopped. My aura-thread quivered, vibrating like a plucked bowstring. When my perception stilled, I traced the line of the writhing cord. At the very edge of my vision, it split into thousands—no, tens of thousands—of strands. The web splayed wide, covering the entire southern horizon.
I struggled to understand the size of the Riftspawn army. The front line of the horde stretched for leagues in either direction, and the ranks of monsters were so deep I couldn’t see the trailing edge of the force. Marching forward in a sea of dusk, the army had to be hundreds of times the size of the ragtag group threatening Jaliss.
Far away on the wall surrounding the Heartstone, I gagged as my stomach shoved bile into my throat.
Lilik? Savra? Raav asked.
It’s okay. We’re returning.
Creeping backward at first then accelerating to heart-stopping speeds, we retreated from the distant army. Once again, leagues of terrain raced beneath me. As we finally began to slow, sensations from my body intruded. At the same time, Lilik released her grasp on my ability. I shivered as my control returned.
How did you do that?
I’ll explain, but not now. You saw what’s coming. You can’t fight that army, Savra. Kostan can’t fight it. And this first attack… Parveld is too smart to send such a small force without a plan. You need to warn Kostan.
My arms felt full of wet sand as I dragged my hands through my hair. I’d warn the Emperor, but what then? What were we supposed to do? Flee? What about everyone in Jaliss?
The city can’t be defended anyway. Without Steelhold, you have no real fortifications. The Heartstone can help, but it’s not enough. Save who you can, Savra, but go.
I—okay, just let me think.
Rotted tides, I hate to… Lilik growled. Savra, I should have taught you how to keep me from doing this. At least Tyrak gave me that much, even if I was too trusting to use it against him.
Lilik? Raav asked.
There’s no time, she said. They need to squash that small force before Parveld can spring his trap, and they need to evacuate the city. If Savra won’t believe me, I’ll have to speak for—
Wait! I yelled across our bond. Okay! But I’ll have to convince the others.
You’ll dance around the issue, Lilik said. I’ve watched you for weeks—you avoid conflict. Now isn’t the time.
No, I just reserve my arguments for the important things.
Well, if there were ever an important issue…
I heard you, all right?
I stiffened as Lilik untangled her remaining energy from my spirit. I hadn’t even known that she’d kept a grip on me. Combined with the argument I’d just heard, I sensed I’d narrowly avoided an unpleasant fate. What had the woman been considering? And who under a stormy sky was Tyrak?
Later, her whisper came across our bond.
I clenched my jaw. I’d started to suspect that Lilik could read more of my thoughts than she admitted. I wanted to confront her, but she was right—this wasn’t the time.
I stood and tamped my aura-sight down to a low smolder. Glancing around, I caught the eye of the Prime Protector. She was looking anxiously between her Emperor and me. Kostan still crouched over the Heartstone, knotted tension bulging his shoulders.
“There’s a problem,” I said, motioning to the Prime.
The woman leaped to my side. “Talk,” she said.
“The Spawn. It may be—it’s a trap. Parveld…” I pinched the bridge of my nose. This was hard to explain.
The back of Kostan’s neck was slick with sweat, no doubt from the battle he was waging in his illusory cavern. Speaking of… I looked up, but only the blue sky filled my eyes. Suddenly cold, I shoved energy into my aura-sight.
The shining warrior no longer towered over the city. Instead, the giant had fallen to a knee, his back slumped over the Heights. Kostan’s glowing sword had vanished.
“Oh, storms. No!” I shoved the Prime aside and sprinted for the stairs. Headlong, I took the makeshift steps three at a time. In my aura-sight, the warrior sagged farther, elbow buckling as if the weight of the sky pressed the glowing figure down.
“Kostan!” I yelled as my feet slapped the ground. Protectors and mages looked on in astonishment as I barreled into him, knocking his hands from the Heartstone.
He rolled, limp, and turned sightless eyes to the heavens.
“No!” I yelled again, fumbling at the buckles of his armor before noticing that the Heartshard penda
nt peeked over the top of the vest. I yanked the amulet free and jerked it over his head, catching strands of his hair in the chain.
Kostan’s head lolled. I grabbed his shoulders and shook. Finally, he drew a weak breath, but his eyelids didn’t even flutter.
As I laid hands on his chest, my lower lip trembling, a deep snap reverberated through the Heartstone. Cracks webbed the surface, shattering the gleaming dome. I slapped my hands to the agate’s surface and threw my aura-sight forward.
The glow was gone. The Heartstone was broken.
***
After Kostan’s collapse, the Prime sent every soldier under her command to squash the Riftspawn force. Aurum mages bolstered the protectors’ forces, darting in from the fringes of the battle and leaving tattered corpses behind. Stormshard blasted into the fray from the side, hammering the beasts against the protectors’ shields. Five humans died for every Spawn sliced to pieces, but finally, the shrieks and shouts from the city’s outskirts faded. I knelt beside Kostan throughout the battle, clutching his cool hand. His pulse washed weakly through his wrist, and his eyes flitted beneath lowered lids. Occasionally, his breath hitched, sending my heart thrashing in my chest. But his condition didn’t change.
I was surprised to look up and see the day had turned into evening. A canvas roof had been stretched across the stone walls of a building that was under construction against the outer ring wall. I watched with numb interest as the Prime ducked out the building’s doorway and approached, two soldiers in tow.
“We want to get him inside so the Aurum Trinity can examine him,” she said with surprising gentleness.
I sat silently while her words registered, then nodded and stood. The soldiers grabbed Kostan at the armpits and ankles and lifted. His head fell backward, and the Prime swooped in to support it. Awkwardly, they carried their Emperor into the makeshift building. As if appearing from nowhere, the three master mages of the Aurum Trinity swooped into view and disappeared into the building. Lantern light bloomed inside the small structure. I slipped inside and stood along the wall.
Fate of the Drowned (The Broken Lands Book 3) Page 7