In the worst realization he’d had since he learned he could do magic, Bayan recalled that what he’d said to Sivutma about Bhattara might not be true. In the depths of the mountain, where there was no sky at all, perhaps Bayan could indeed be separated from his god.
Utter despair gripped his soul for the space of an eternal moment. Then Timbool brushed against Kiwani, and Bayan felt the weight of the world lift from his shoulders. A quick spell and the stone of the floor parted. Kiwani’s head and shoulders emerged. Bayan was further relieved to hear her gasping desperately for breath and swearing with each exhalation.
“Bayan?” He heard Taban’s worried call. “Bayan!”
Bayan looked over his shoulder, expecting to see Taban in trouble. Instead, he saw three of witten Oost’s avatars bearing down on him.
“Bayan!” Kiwani screamed. “Go, leave me!”
Spinning around, Bayan planted himself between Kiwani and the avatars, knowing there was little he could do to postpone the inevitable. With a burst of red smoke, he dragged Firemark back into existence and used him to hurl Lava Blast—the avatar-level version of Lavafall—at his attackers. The goblet-water was overcome by the tsunami of lava and evaporated in defeat, but the cloud of lightning remained unharmed and the crystal spider merely became a walking lava flow, its glowing legs crackling closer with every passing moment. Bayan saw with horror that he needed only to step aside to save himself, but Kiwani, trapped in the stone floor, would burn to death. I should have freed her completely. I need to cast—
A strange chirping behind him drew his attention. It moved quickly from left to right. A bat! The small brown creature was no doubt terrified by the noise and flashes of light.
Hope rose in Bayan’s chest. Letting Firemark go, and praying that doing so wasn’t a fatal choice, Bayan swung his arms through the motions of Lifeseeker. The room seemed to dim. The battling avatars nearly vanished from sight. Ignaas and Taban beamed brightly from across the room, Kiwani from behind him. Eward made a dimmer glow over against the edge of the room.
The dome came alive with bright orange dots of life. Desperate and curious, Bayan threw his awareness across the curved ceiling, finding spiders, crickets, millipedes, and a few more bats. And one dim glow somewhere behind the dome walls—but Bayan didn’t have time to deal with that at the moment.
The flying bat zipped by, an orange streak of fear and warmth. Bayan snagged its attention and begged it to help him. The small creature, a mother with young pups, instantly agreed. She veered toward Bayan and arrowed between gouts of flame and lightning bolts.
The bat landed on his shoulder. Bayan gulped, uncertain whether a bird spell or a furry-animal spell would work better. He chose the bird spell, hoping to rely on the bat’s airborne attacks.
In the air before him, a massive brown bat took shape, solidifying out of nothingness. Even Bayan was surprised at its sheer size. The magical creature flew to the top of the dome, circling, and Bayan tried to use its eyes to select witten Oost as a target, but the bat could barely see.
The bat on his shoulder chirped, and the sound pressed painfully against Bayan’s eardrum. At the same time, the image of his own head, enormous to the small bat, appeared in his mind.
“Echo pictures,” he muttered. He stared up at his large magical beast. The great bat opened its mouth wide and let out a horrific shriek. All the humans in the room, including Bayan, flinched and covered their ears.
The mother bat gave him a chiding squeak. “I know, I know.” Bayan brought the bat down on an attack run, then let loose another ear-pounding shriek right into the crystal spider in front of him. It shattered, and Bayan hunkered down in front of Kiwani’s exposed head.
“Bayan, what have you done?” she wheezed.
“Changed the rules.” He stood again and saw Taban being thrust back toward him by three different avatars. Surprised his new hexmate had held up so well on his own, Bayan picked the Shock avatar and readied another shrieking attack.
The cloud of lightning struck his bat with a massive Blue Bolt spell, destroying the magical projection and killing the bat on Bayan’s shoulder. The small creature slid to the floor with a soft plop.
Aghast, Bayan looked down at the mother bat with a wince of guilt. “Bhattara! I’m sorry.” Bats were no good against lightning. Was any living thing? Maybe that was anima magic’s fatal flaw. How could he possibly take on the speed and numbers of witten Oost’s avatars with a fatally flawed magic that killed every creature he bonded with?
“Let me up already, Bayan,” Kiwani called. “You can’t get smeared all over the floor without me. Hexmates, remember?”
Bayan forced the stone to give her freedom, and she crawled out and stood up. “You sure you’re not hurt?”
“Don’t baby me. I’m fine.”
“Bayan! Meld with me!” Taban jogged backward toward him while his Earth avatar, Ducat, rolled on its edge like a shield and absorbed the attacks of its three opponents. His left sleeve was in tatters and the arm beneath badly blistered.
“It’ll still be four on three.”
“No, listen. Your anima. My elements. Melded.”
“Bayan… no…” Kiwani’s voice was still faint.
Bayan frowned. “Don’t know if it’ll even work.”
“I’m about dead, here. Canna go on much longer. One last hurrah?”
Bayan glanced at Kiwani, then back to Taban. He nodded. “One last hurrah.”
As Kiwani sent Ghaw lumbering over to distract the three avatars who had chased Taban, Bayan sent Lifeseeker overhead again and found a willing cave spider. The creature spun down to him on a thick, silvery web, landing on his shoulder where the bat had rested. It propped one long leg against his ear, giving Bayan the momentary fear that it would climb inside.
“You want to play with spiders, witten Oost? Let’s play with spiders.” The anima projection of the cave spider manifested between Bayan and the little thundercloud, all long legs and orange bands on white. Witten Oost’s cloud whirled up a thin mist, about to cast. Quickly, Taban and Bayan performed the melding spell at one another.
Just before the cloud released its spell, the cave spider’s long, spindly legs bulked out with delicate, pointed iron armor. The Blue Bolt spell struck the metal, flew along its surface, and vanished into the ground, leaving the spider unharmed.
Taban whooped. The spider on Bayan’s shoulder put a second foot on his ear.
The magical armored spider strode toward the cloud of lightning, which backed away, joining the other three.
“Who’s the traitor now, Bayan?” witten Oost called. “Dabbling in forbidden arts, consorting with animals of mean intellect. What will everyone say?”
“Watch this,” Taban murmured. The spider’s palps became icy fangs.
Bayan marched his creature toward the walking candle, which threw a constant flame up at the looming spider. The thundercloud tried again to electrocute it, while the corn plant managed to tangle some vines in two of the spider’s iron leg protectors.
The long-legged spider managed to reach the candle and munch its warm wax to death before its icy fangs completely melted, but it soon became immobilized in vines. The other avatars surrounded it, hurling attacks.
“Best let it go,” Taban said.
“I don’t have another—” Bayan began. Then he felt a tiny weight upon his hair. Another. The spiders crawled down to his shoulders, making him wince at the touch of their grasping feet. “Volunteers it is.” He let go of the magical spider he’d made. Its counterpart hunched down on Bayan’s shoulder.
“Looks hurt,” Taban said.
“This reeks,” Bayan growled. “Why do they get hurt, but not me?”
“Focus, hexling! They’re coming!”
Bayan saw the remaining three avatars advancing on them. Behind them, witten Oost re-manifested his lost goblet-water in a swirl of blue fog.
Taban stared at Bayan’s shoulder. “How many spiders are up there?”
Bayan
looked too. He saw three more spindly-legged monstrosities clinging to him. “Not sure I want to know.”
“No, how many? Are you bringing them all?”
Bayan looked up. The ceiling seemed to be pouring down toward his head as dozens of spiders slid down from the darkness above. Luckily, they seemed to sense that there was not enough room for them all on Bayan’s person. They spread out on the floor around him, yellow legs mixed with brown, white legs crossing orange.
Wide eyed, standing very still, Taban said, “Spider king, your army awaits.”
Bayan stared down at the mass of spiders. He could feel hundreds of tiny minds pressing against his. He looked over at witten Oost’s avatars and smiled.
Thrusting his arms forward, he created a hundred waist-high spiders in the space between Bayan and the enemy avatars. A swirl of red mist from Taban, and the ones on the left near the walking corn plant, sprouted hazy flames. Bayan directed them to swarm all over witten Oost’s Wood avatar.
The little thundercloud spread massive bolts of lightning across the spiders, killing them in swaths.
Without extinguishing his flaming spiders, Taban moved his hands again. “Have that lot there attack the Air avatar with their silk.”
Bayan directed some of his spiders toward the spinning disc of air, which managed to blow some of them away with fierce gusts of wind. Some wove a shiny substance below it,. Others launched themselves over it, trailing the arcing strands overhead. Gradually, the gleaming net enclosed the avatar.
“What is that stuff?” Bayan asked.
“Metal.”
“Two elements at once? Taban, you’re hexing!”
Taban only grinned. “At my best when my choices are panic or manic, aye? Besides, ever since I got Eward to spill your Savantism secret, I’ve been bonding spells like a mad thing. Power is good, aye?”
With a frustrated growl, witten Oost tried to use his small thundercloud to free the trapped Wind avatar, but the Blue Bolt spell flew through the metal silk, electrocuting the avatar inside the net. The wind disc sputtered to a moaning halt.
Taban hollered in triumph, laughing at their good fortune, but his voice fell silent as witten Oost vanished his foremost avatars, leaving only the goblet-water.
The avatar swelled until it touched the top of the dome, then poured itself out, gushing across the floor in a flood. Spiders both magical and mundane were swept away. Taban, Bayan, and Kiwani joined them.
With sudden panic, Bayan glanced toward Eward. Mercifully, his hexmate had come to when Bayan wasn’t looking and now crouched on a small ledge above the water line.
As he smacked against the back wall with his hexmates, Bayan ended his bonding with the spiders so they could all clamber to safety. Taban helped Kiwani stand while Bayan sought another ally.
“I’ll protect Eward.” Kiwani splashed her way along the back wall and struck a defensive pose with Ghaw.
Soon the dome overhead was filled with a dozen enormous bats, swooping and crying out, targeting witten Oost with their eardrum-rending cries. The headmaster fell to his knees and clapped his hands over his ears. A moment later, he stood again. Bayan could see what looked like clay plugs in the man’s ears.
“Bastard won’t give up,” Taban muttered. His arms flashed through green mist, and Bayan’s bats hurled vine balls from their mouths instead of sound attacks. The balls bounced around witten Oost and entangled his body. The man formed a platform beneath his feet, which lifted him away from the vines, followed by a spherical metal cage around himself. The sharp-edged cage began to spin, slicing through the questing vines.
And then, while Bayan and Taban were still ankle deep in chill water, witten Oost brought back his thundercloud. Its surface crackled with electric energy.
Taban glanced down at the water in alarm. “Sints preserve us.”
Absolute Power
Tala got separated from Doc Theo in the running crowds spilling from the Temple’s hallways out into the lower bowl. Altons led the way, drawing gaggles of students behind each of them. They sang away the snow in great swaths as they hurried to the Full Choir assembly pit. Tala found herself running next to Tonn, and she stuck with him as the altons pressed everyone into curving rows around the raised platform in the center of the pit.
Heart racing, Tala remembered her only other performance with the Full Choir. Choralist Cedric had directed a song to ameliorate a vicious typhoon west of Pallithea. Then, Tala had just mouthed the words so no one would notice her hiccups. Now, she knew she could sing with the other members of the choir. She just wasn’t sure she wanted to.
She finally spotted her father standing outside the circled singers. He lined the far wall with all the other brown-robed chanters, and he didn’t look pleased. In fact, the expression on his face, with his jaw tight and his brows drawn, made her think he was actually frightened.
“Let me pass!” The First Singer heedlessly pressed her way through the circle and stood on the small round platform. She made sure every eye was upon her. “Singers, we have been misled, manipulated, and abused. Our magic has become a crutch to support the greed of a man who believes he is the next emperor of the Waarden by sheer right of magic.”
Cries of confusion, outrage, and fearful denial rose around Tala. She looked at the First Singer’s hard features and dared not guess what the woman would order her singers to do. Outright murder seemed to be very much an option. Tala wasn’t entirely sure it was a bad option.
“Now that the Octet and I are aware of the full truth, I demand instant action. We must cleanse the empire of this man, his designs, and his every influence. Let none recall who he is! Let his vile plans and his wicked schemes fall as dust to the earth, to die on barren soil, and find no fruition! Let the Full Choir of the Temple of Ten Thousand Harmonies sing the vanishment of Ignaas witten Oost!”
A raw cry of assent erupted around Tala. She tried to see Doc Theo through the fist-pumping crowd of singers, but could not.
“Akrestan minor scale, singers. Kleon, hold the basses on a low first note. Gennadios, your baritones a hollow fifth above. Give me a repeating return scale of five notes. Tenors, follow Cedric. Altos and contraltos, you will follow Cigwe with the scale melody. Sopranos, you shall echo my song measure by measure.” She lowered her head, eyes fixed to the south. “This ends now.”
The First Singer raised her hands. Though her heart pounded in fear, Tala lifted her chin, along with her classmates on either side, and took a deep breath. At the First Singer’s gesture, the basses and baritones began their trundling tune up and down the minor scale. The pressure of the magic built around the choir, echoing out of the assembly pit, bouncing off the curved towers and the far walls of the Temple bowl, reaching up to the sky itself. Tala could feel its reach extending, feel the magic growing, spreading across the face of the empire. Its seemingly endless reach left her dizzy.
The tenors launched into their tune. Cigwe led the altos and contraltos into a bitter harmony. The song took on an angry, raging tone. It screamed to the sky of injustice, of the unfair triumph of evil. Palms sweating, Tala swallowed the saliva that pooled on her tongue and waited for her cue to sing with the sopranos.
The First Singer flung her white-sleeved arms out to her sides and shrieked a raging melody to the sky. Tala and the other sopranos echoed its raging rhythm. The bitter woman sang again, a haunting melody of loss and deception. Tala echoed that, too.
But as she continued to repeat the First Singer’s enraged melody, her discomfort rose to a cloying level, nearly choking her. The rage behind the First Singer’s plan sickened her. The woman wasn’t just out for justice, the song said. She was out for murder. And not just Ignaas witten Oost’s murder, but the cold-blooded destruction of every man, woman, and child who’d helped him make his bid for emperor.
She was going to erase Ignaas witten Oost, everyone who knew him, and every reference to his existence. He would vanish from the empire’s history as surely as if he had never been born.
<
br /> Behind Tala, Doc Theo cried out, clutching his head. So did a few of the Octet. Their singing turned to cries of pain. Even the First Singer clapped a hand to her forehead, but did not stop singing. Grating out her notes, she kept raging, screaming her magic to the heavens.
Tala lost her place in the song. Her voice stuttered to a stop. She scrambled past the solo students and thrust her way through the duet and trio circles, racing to her father’s side.
“What is it? What’s going on?”
“I told him,” Doc Theo groaned. He pressed his long fingers over his eyes.
“Told who what?”
“I helped Ignaas. Didn’t mean to. I told him Kiwani’s secret after he dosed me.”
“But what’s happening to you?”
Blood leaked from Doc Theo’s nose and ears. He slumped to the floor. “…Vanishing… ”
Tala’s eyes widened. She looked at the First Singer. The woman stood in the midst of the Full Choir, which still chanted and sang. Sang the death of her father and countless hundreds of others who had ever aided Ignaas witten Oost in any way.
“No! Stop! You’re killing him!” Tala screamed. She launched herself back through the swaying choir. The music itself seemed to thicken the air, dragging at her progress. Whimpering in frustration, she shoved her way through the enthralled singers. Without slowing down or worrying about where she would land, she hurled herself at the First Singer, toppling her from the small dais. Tala had one glimpse of surprised eyes rimmed with tears of blood. Then she and the First Singer crashed into the first row of the choir in a tangle of limbs.
~~~
The lightning never fell.
Witten Oost screamed, a long, drawn-out cry of agony. His metal cage and platform vanished. The water covering the dome’s floor disappeared just as he fell, and he crashed to his knees on the hard stone. Dragging in a second breath, he screamed again, writhing.
Taban spun a quick Flame spell, providing light. Bayan looked at him, confused. “Not I,” the Dunfarroghan said.
Traitor Savant (Second Seal of the Duelists) Page 30