by Serena Chase
“You could have had more power than you ever dreamed!” The sound he made next reminded me of the young wildcat that had attacked Gerrias, it was so feral, so shrill. “You are more foolish than even your ancestors,” he screeched. “Andov was filled with the capacity for power, but refused to claim it for himself. And Stoen?” He expelled the name with supreme distaste. “An idealistic slave! He had no ambition, no real power of his own!”
He was wrong. Stoen—Stoenryn, rather—had a gift that, had Cobeld sought it, would have changed the course of history. “Humility is a purer power,” I whispered.
But he didn’t hear me until another scream was yanked from my throat, and by then his eerie laugh was building again.
“Stoen always saw himself through the eyes of a servant, a slave. I was a leader of men. When I spoke, people listened and obeyed. But that tainted history no longer matters. Once you are dead—and I do enjoy hearing the sounds you make as my curse takes hold of each new piece of you—I will have won. At long last I will be freed from this prison. And I will kill your friends with as much slow but certain pleasure as I have now in killing you.” He laughed again and even the sound seemed to speed the path of the curse. “I will then dispatch your father,” he said, “and take E’veria as my own. As it should have been all along.”
My head pounded from the poison snaking its way through my blood. The baneful venom infiltrated every cell of my body, one drip at a time. Help me! I cried out to The First, even as he sent reminders of poetry to my thoughts.
Shale of flour from the loaf, in water dropped, a moment soaked.
I had no feeling left below my waist. Using my arms, I dragged my body closer to the protrusion at the top of the rocky platform. I could no longer see Cobeld. I only hoped he hadn’t decided to climb the rock himself, because if I was forced to fight him, the curse would numb my heart before I reached the Remedy.
I breathed through another chest spasm. One more inch and I could just reach the rounded protrusion.
With Cobeld’s dagger, stained red with my blood, I reached toward the lumpy growth on the stone. I pulled the blade across it and a fine powder, as white as a cloud on a summer’s day, fell from its surface.
I set the dagger down and swept the powder—the shale of flour—into a small pile. Now . . . I needed water. But where would I find water?
There was plenty of water on the other side of the tunnel, so much that I had been forced to wade through it. Could there yet be enough still in my garments after this much time?
I grabbed hold of my sleeve. It was damp, but not wet. I squeezed and squeezed until my hand shook, but only one small drop landed on the pile of powder. I squeezed the other sleeve, and then painstakingly pulled my legs forward to wring the cuffs of my pants. A filmy white stripe on my pant leg reminded me that the water was salty.
Would saltwater work? I wondered. Or did the Remedy require freshwater? Water was water, right?
But it didn’t matter. There wasn’t enough.
The pain increased with every second, so much so, that even though my hands seemed to be working of their own accord, I could barely think. My senses were failing. I could see nothing but a pinprick of the scene in front of me. My eyes burned with tears.
Tears.
Tears are just saltwater, I thought through the pain pounding in my head. I cupped my shaking hand under my chin.
Excruciating torment reached deep within my bones, a torture so constant that I couldn’t imagine my eyes ever being dry again. But would even my tears be enough? Would it work? Or would I die here, the prelude to Cobeld’s imminent invasion and the death of E’veria?
Numbness stole past my waist. It wouldn’t be long before my arms were paralyzed. Already they tingled with the pins and needles of reduced circulation.
Unseeing, I pressed my finger into the palm cupped under my chin to catch my tears. It might be just enough.
Blindly, I reached toward the powder and pinched a tiny bit between my finger and thumb. I released it into my tear-filled palm. My hand shook so that I feared I would spill the Remedy. If I did, I would surely die from Cobeld’s curse. I raised my palm to my lips and tipped the chalky, salty mixture into my mouth.
Just as it touched my tongue, my spine seized and the curse took hold of a fresh part of me. I swallowed and concentrated on keeping my hand at my mouth. Only with utter concentration was I able to push my tongue through my lips. With slow, meticulous motions, I licked whatever remained of the Remedy powder and tears off the surface of my palm until my arm fell useless on the rock beside me.
“It won’t be long now!” Cobeld cackled with glee as I fell over on my back. “I can feel the curse moving through your blood, Ryn Naia. You are as good as dead.”
I feared he was right. My limbs were heavy and disconnected from my control by the curse’s paralysis. It could be mere minutes until my heart gave out or my throat closed off to breath, but at least for the moment, my lungs still took in air and I still had my voice.
Although the pain was strong, there was a strength beyond it to which I had access.
Embral e’ Veria . . . Even as my power to think began to stall, I silently called out to The First. I imbued my request with everything I believed about him and everything I knew to be true about that particular and precious name, knowing that, even at the cusp of death, I would be cradled in the arms of unquenchable love, whether they bore me to health . . . or to Rynloeft.
Beneath my tunic, hanging from a chain around my neck, the Emblem of The First began to warm the skin on which it rested.
My tongue was swollen, my lips numb, but somehow, my next words came out clearly. And even as I uttered them, peace stole a bit of my agony.
“I belong to The First, Cobeld. With all that I am and for all of my life, I am his. And I am loved. Even your curse cannot take me from his care.”
“His care?” Cobeld laughed bitterly, mocking me. “You’re dying. I have thwarted his plan! I have defeated the prophesied Ryn Naia, and in so doing, I have defeated the First King!”
His shout of triumph echoed around the chamber. “I knew his power would someday be mine! You could have shared it with me, but you are a fool!”
“I never wanted the sort of power you desire, Cobeld,” I said more softly, each word scraping painfully through my lungs and throat, “I only wanted the Remedy. I only wanted to accomplish the task assigned to me by The First.”
“You are nothing but his slave. Just like Stoen was.” Disgust coated each syllable he uttered, only to be replaced with a sheen of pride. “I gave you that pain! I spoke the curse over that hair that is killing you! I am your master now, for I have all the power over you!”
My chest tightened. Pain shot down my shoulder, curling the fingers I could barely feel. My breath curdled in my throat.
Embral e’ Veria . . . I called out to one whose unlimited power was drenched in unquenchable love. I am yours.
I would soon lose consciousness, but even then he could bless the Remedy I had ingested and save my life.
But even if he didn’t, even if this next, liquid breath was my last, I would remain steadfastly his.
Pins and needles sparked to life in my numbed arms, leaving a blessed, awful throb in their wake. My spine relaxed. My jaw unclenched. My lungs cleared.
The stimulus worked its way down my legs, prickling and kneading its way through every sinew, every joint, every bone and muscle. I gasped as the skin on my calf sizzled and stretched, melting back together in a series of excruciating moments that cauterized the wound Cobeld’s cursed dagger had rent there.
One of my fingers felt suddenly heavy and I met it across my stomach with the other hand.
The engagement ring, I thought.
Ryn alone must foe engage and settle in eternal cage.
A sweet, searing sensation, as if pure light had shot through my veins, shocked another gasp from my lips. And then . . . the pain was gone.
Utterly. Gone.
; I sat up and peered over the edge of the rock platform to meet his beady black eyes. “It would appear this power you’re so proud of is rather limited.”
Cobeld’s ancient face drooped with shock.
Concentrating the full expanse of my gifts and my mother’s blessing, I spoke to the cracked floor, aimed the offensive ring at a spot just in front of Cobeld’s feet, and let it fly.
The ring made a high, tinkling sound as it hit the glass-like floor, but the impact sent millions of fissures racing around Cobeld. He looked down and, just as he lifted his face to send one last, loathing look my way, the barrier above the chasm cracked all the way through.
The floor opened beneath Cobeld’s feet and swallowed Everia’s most ancient enemy in its gaping mouth.
“Noooooooo . . . !”
Cobeld’s shriek of disbelief was followed by a string of vile curses directed not at me, but at The First himself. They echoed off the walls like an evil refrain, singeing the air as he fell into the depths of his fathomless, eternal cage.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
A shocking length of time stretched while Cobeld’s screams echoed up from the depths into which he had fallen. Eventually, I covered my ears and hummed a monotone buzz to block it out, to cancel the reality of how deep, how incredibly, frighteningly deep that chasm was. When the ancient traitor’s shrieks were far enough into the chasm that I could pretend he wasn’t still falling, I took stock of my situation.
Not good.
Yes, I had found the Remedy. I had even used it successfully.
Thank you, I whispered again. Without that tiny bit of powder, scraped off the surface of the Remedy stone, I would be dead.
But even though I had defeated my foe and found the object of my quest, what remained of the Remedy—and that was most of it, since I could barely even note where I’d scraped the knife—wouldn’t do anyone else any good unless I found a way out of this chamber. The transparent floor was gone. I’d defeated Cobeld, but I was trapped in the center of the chasm. Unless I could find a way out, the Remedy wasn’t going to be able to serve its purpose and heal those afflicted with the Cobeld curse.
And neither was I.
Death and failure were still very real possibilities.
The distance between my perch on the rock platform and the tunnel entrance was too far to even try to jump. I closed my eyes.
Where’s a bridge builder when you need one? I thought ruefully, picturing the filthy form of Taef de Emwyk. I had no wish to join Cobeld in the abyss.
My feet were level with the tunnel entrance, but even if I stripped to the skin, tied my clothes end to end, and bent the dagger into some sort of rudimentary grappling hook, there was no way I would make it. I sighed. One thing at a time.
I put aside the thought of how to make my escape and took a moment to inspect the Remedy more closely. I gave it a gentle shove and . . . it moved.
The gift will rise when the way is sure.
Well, good. It was ready to go. But even if I could jump and manage to make it far enough to scramble up, I couldn’t do it carrying the Remedy, and it wasn’t worth trying to leave without it. Retrieving the Remedy was the reason I had come on this quest in the first place!
I picked it up easily. For its size, the Remedy was surprisingly light. I laughed. It did look a bit like a large, round loaf of bread now that I thought about it. And when I had run Cobeld’s dagger across it, the powder that resulted and healed me did resemble flour.
I rested it on my lap. When I stretched out my legs, it nearly covered the span from my hips to my knees and overhung my legs on both sides. I had no pack, but I doubted that it would have fit inside mine anyway. And unless I figured out a way to cross the chasm, it didn’t matter.
I let out a deep breath and then sucked it back in when a drop of something hit my head. I reached up and felt moisture.
Ting.
A small, wet something landed on the rock. Ting. Another drop hit my hand and . . . glittered. Ting-ting-ting. Glimmering water droplets danced upon the rock, picking up the rhythm of their song until there were so many coming at once that I could not distinguish one raindrop from another.
Rain? I held out my hand, catching the evidence within it. But I’m inside a mountain!
I lifted my gaze upward. Far above me, the cavern’s domed ceiling glowed as brightly as if the moon itself had fallen from the sky and lodged in a hole atop the mountain. As the drops of water fell from the glow, they streaked across the space like thousands of miniscule stars.
Puddles began to gather on the surface of the rock and on the porous surface of the Remedy. The puddles glowed as if made from light itself. I looked up again and then down. I leaned as close as I could to the surface of the rock and discovered . . .
Enikkas! Each drop of rain transported a small swarm of enikkas!
I would have been content to sit there and let myself be drowned in it, but reality burst through my brain. What would happen to the Remedy if it got wet? Even my tears had dissolved the powder I’d scraped from its surface. As quickly as I could, I unbuttoned my tunic, untucked my shirt, and pushed the Remedy between the fabric and my skin to give it some protection against the rain. It was tight, but not cold as I had expected. In fact, it seemed to almost put off warmth. It stretched the fabric and grated against my skin, but at least it wouldn’t dissolve.
At least not right away.
As the puddles filled, they grew brighter and brighter. With each glittering drop from the glowing ceiling, more enikkas graced the rock, filling the puddles and covering everything on the rock, including me.
Their heat was stronger here than I had ever felt them and their population so concentrated that after only a few minutes I could barely look at their brightness.
The waterfall was not the living precipitate after all, I smiled. It was real rain. Enikka rain!
Without my consent, my body shifted position. I gasped as the top of the rock formation tipped—and continued to tip!—at an ever-increasing angle. I rolled onto my stomach, or rather, on top of the Remedy still under my tunic, and grasped for a hold to keep from sliding off the now-slippery top of the rock platform. My fingers met water and enikkas before they sank into a thick mud.
Mud?
The top of the rock had turned into clay—and into something I could sink my fingers into for a hold, at least for a little while. The moisture and heat of the tiny creatures was changing the very composition of the rock platform!
I lifted my head and looked behind me. The structure was now bending ever so slightly toward the tunnel. Huddling over the Remedy, I pushed my knees, feet, and hands into the soft clay to hold on as the rock formation continued to bend by nearly indiscernible increments, gently leaning and curving toward the tunnel opening.
Where my hands held, the enikkas moved away and, without the wet heat, the clay hardened around each finger. I couldn’t wiggle a single digit, so firmly were they encased in the rock.
The platform shifted faster, as if now that they had ensured that I wouldn’t fall, the enikkas had burrowed inside the rock itself and were heating and melding it from within. A short time later, my body was at a nearly perpendicular plane to the chasm, but, although my stomach protested what my head knew to be true, the rock around my fingers and feet and knees was so hard that I knew I would not fall.
I am with you.
The Voice of The First sang a song of rescue in my mind. His proclamation, so true it might have been audible, echoed comfort through my blood as enikkas dripped though my hair and down my neck, tickling me with their warmth. My joy bubbled up with laughter.
“Of course you are with me!” I shouted, tilting my head back so I could better see the beauty of his illuminate provision. “I am yours!”
Myriad colors washed over me with one thread common to them all: love. Enormous, unquenchable, amazing love.
Suddenly, my joyous laughter was stilled by the overwhelming awe of being within the protective embrace of the
very one who’d created not only me, not only the enikkas, but the very stars. I stayed like that, reveling in the care of The First, until the enikkas moved back toward my hands.
The clay loosened around my fingers—and my stomach dropped somewhere near my knees.
“Uhhhh . . .” My voice quavered. What were they doing? If they loosened my fingers I would fall!
Still huddled around the Remedy, I suddenly realized that there was a firm surface pressing against my backside. I twisted my head just slightly to find the bottom of the tunnel entrance directly behind my shoulders.
The enikkas’ warm bodies never stopped moving. They loosened the clay around my fingers, knees, and the toes of my boots so that I could move, but my body—and the Remedy—were still supported by the pliable rock.
I took a deep breath, and supporting the Remedy with one hand, leaned back. My breath came in short but deep bursts as I pulled my right knee free of the warm clay. A slurping sound accompanied the release of my knee, and again when I pulled out my foot.
I pressed the flat of my freed right foot against the clay. Ever conscious of the chasm below, I used that foot for leverage and pressed my back even harder against the rock wall behind me. When I felt moderately secure, I eased my left knee free and then the other foot.
The sound of my panting echoed louder than the screams of Cobeld, now barely discernable below. Fear of falling, combined with the effort of keeping my precarious grip, marred my vision with dizziness.
If I was going to have the strength to get the Remedy and myself into the tunnel just above my shoulders I would have to regulate my breathing and restore my balance—or whatever semblance of it I could have while my seat was dangling over fathoms of empty air.
I pressed my back into the wall just below the tunnel entrance and my feet against the hardening rock that the enikkas’ heat had tipped toward my escape, and then concentrated on calming my mind with comforting memories.