Relic of the Gods: (Echoes of Fate Book 3)

by Philip C. Quaintrell

  Alidyr robbed him of options, if not the gem, and hurtled Faylen’s body across the room. Her foot whipped up with tremendous speed and planted itself in the ranger’s chest, throwing him into the bar. The impact against his back hurt almost as much as the foot in his chest. He was quick to find his feet again, but Alidyr was quicker, using Faylen’s hands to knock the broadsword from his grip. Her fingers shot into his wrist, forcing his tendons to release the hilt, which Alidyr then caught with Faylen’s free hand. Asher was able to bring up his hardened bracer to take the edge of the blade, though its bite still stung.

  “I have lost everything because of you!” It was Faylen’s voice but Alidyr’s venom.

  “Sorry, Faylen…” Asher used his free hand to grab the back of her head, bracing it for the impact his forehead was about to have on her face. The knock sent Alidyr reeling with blood exploding from a broken nose. Asher hated to hurt Faylen, but it was good to know that Alidyr felt the pain too.

  The double-handed sword had been dropped now and the ranger hoped to keep any more blades out of it. Instead, Asher rammed his body into Faylen’s and drove her into the barricade of chairs and tables. A solid fist to her face should have knocked her out, but it served only as a reminder that he was fighting an elf, not a human. Alidyr thrust an open palm into Asher’s nose, disorientating him, before slamming his face down onto the table. The wooden legs broke under the force, dropping the ranger to his knees. Two strong hands gripped his leather armour, through his cloak, and launched him up into the air until he met the ceiling timber. The wood cracked and the back of his head knocked against the tough beam.

  Asher didn't remember hitting the floor again; he simply opened his eyes and Faylen was standing over him with a satisfied grin.

  “I'm not going to lie,” Alidyr said, walking around Asher’s crawling form, “that felt great.”

  “I'm going…” Asher groaned in pain. “I'm going to kill you.” The ranger’s hands just found the hilt of his fallen sword when Alidyr stepped in and kicked it aside.

  “I'm not even in Barrosh,” Alidyr commented. “Let’s be honest, you couldn't kill me if I was. I do regret having to kill you with the hands of another, though.” The wicked elf examined Faylen’s bloodied palms before bending down and sliding the diamond-tipped short-sword from the scabbard on Asher’s back. “Are you finally ready for death, Ranger?”

  Looking up, it was Faylen who stood over him with the sword held out, ready to remove his head.

  “Are you?” Reyna replied from behind them both.

  Alidyr was too slow to prevent the locking hold that Reyna placed around Faylen’s sword arm. Asher knew from experience that kind of hold could either snap a person’s elbow or even dislocate their shoulder. The princess was careful, and incredibly skilled, to manipulate the wrist instead, forcing Alidyr to drop the short-sword. A swift kick to the back of the knee dropped Alidyr to a height that allowed Asher his own kick to Faylen’s face. The ranger hated the feel of the impact against her head, but that fact didn't stop him from getting up and following his attack with another.

  Reyna was already sporting a nasty cut above her left eyebrow where Alidyr had no doubt caught her by surprise upstairs. Either way, she looked far better than Asher, who felt as if he had relived the battle of Syla’s Gate all over again.

  The melee became far more complicated with three combatants, and Asher was confident that anyone but an Arakesh would fail to keep up with the elves. That didn't stop him from receiving a fist or a foot to the face, with Alidyr skilled enough to often use Reyna’s attacks against the ranger, putting them both off balance. A rather deft evasion on Alidyr’s behalf had Asher’s swing fly past Faylen’s face, allowing Alidyr to come back up with an open-palm to his throat. This would have been devastating all by itself if Alidyr hadn't followed it up by grabbing Asher’s face and pushing his head back into Reyna’s. The blow knocked the princess into the stairs and Asher struggled to correct his vision or catch a breath.

  “Pathetic!” Alidyr reached out and threw Asher clear across the barricade and through the window.

  The ranger hit the decking in a shower of broken glass before rolling out into the pouring rain and soggy mud. The cold rain helped to keep his senses about him and stave off unconsciousness. The sound of shattered glass and boots on wood had his instincts taking over, alerting him to the imminent attack. Asher managed to stand up and block the elven fist which cut through the air like a blade. The next three attacks found only his bracers, but it had all been a ploy to open up his ribs for a gut-wrenching kick. Alidyr laughed into the night as the ranger skidded along the road, clutching his stomach.

  The pain was dulling his senses now and the heavy rain must have disguised Reyna’s leap from the broken window, for when he looked up again, both elves were locked in battle. Had he all of his wits about him, Asher would have marvelled at their technique and speed, but standing up took all of his concentration. When he finally found himself vertical again, the ranger cracked his back and rolled his shoulders, ready to fight.

  Faylen’s injured body did nothing to slow Alidyr down, as the elf threw out her arm and caught Reyna in the chest with enough force to put the princess on her back. Asher took a breath and charged at his enemy, determined to see only Alidyr in front of him. At the last moment he leaped into the air in a bid to hide his true attack, but Faylen’s body reacted with superior reflexes and batted his fist away.

  “Too slow!” Alidyr shouted over the rain.

  Asher felt a sweeping leg take out his legs and put him back in the mud. He could try all he might, but it was Faylen’s face he looked upon when he attacked. Just the sight of her forced him to hold back, to hesitate.

  “Faylen!” Nathaniel shouted from down the street. The knight had a pair of sacks at his feet and an arrow aimed at Faylen. “What are you doing?”

  “Excellent,” Alidyr said to himself. “Now I get to beat all three of you to death.”

  “It’s not her!” Reyna shouted from the ground. The cut on her head was bleeding again.

  “Don't shoot!” Asher held up his hand, warding the archer off.

  Reyna found her feet at last and planted herself firmly in front of Faylen. The princess’ hands spread out beside her and came to life with a brilliant, white light. Steam poured from her fingers in the cold rain and the air rippled around her.

  Alidyr laughed again. “You really don't want to do that. I was practicing magic before your parents were born, Princess.” Faylen’s hands mirrored Reyna’s, bringing to life the same destructive spell.

  “You might be able to push Faylen’s body to its limits, but not her magic.”

  Alidyr smile arrogantly. “And you believe you are capable of beating her in such a contest?”

  “Let’s find out…”

  Both elves unleashed their spells at the same time, lighting up the night and evaporating every raindrop between them. The magic was blinding to Asher, though its power could be felt across his skin like a physical presence. It was the first time he had actually felt the proximity of magic since losing the ring. The shard had always alerted him to the use of magic as well as those who used it. Now, however, he had Paldora’s gem in its entirety.

  That gave him a thought.

  The two elves continued to pour their magic into the battle of wills, their spells lashing out at each other and the surrounding dirt. Reyna was beginning to wane and Faylen was gaining a foot every few seconds. Once Nathaniel was in place, Asher stood up, coming directly between the clashing spells. The magic collided with the ranger like water on rock, washing over him. His sudden appearance and incredible immunity shocked the two elves, who immediately withdrew from their contest.

  The shadows returned and with them the lashing rain. At that moment, Nathaniel stepped behind Faylen and swung the flat of his sword into the back of her head. The knock shoved the elf forward, into Reyna’s fist. The force of it whipped Faylen’s head back, which took the rest of her body with
it until she was on her back. Asher took little pleasure in the sight, fearing for the damage they were doing to Faylen’s body.

  The three of them stood over her still form, all anticipating a violent retaliation. Rainwater began to pool in her eyes and on her lips. Asher was aware that his right fist was still clenched and his muscles twitched, ready to throw another punch or ten. It was hard to look down on Faylen’s battered body and know that they were responsible for the broken bones and fresh cuts.

  Reyna crouched by her side and placed a tentative hand against her mentor’s cheek. “We need to get her inside,” the princess said over the rain.

  Asher and Nathaniel were about to assist in picking Faylen off the ground, but Reyna scooped the elf up with ease. The knight hurried to retrieve the sacks of supplies and the ranger checked the empty streets before finally retreating. They found both elves upstairs, inside one of the bedchambers, where the princess had laid Faylen down beside the crackling fireplace. Her injuries looked so much more severe out of the rain, with trails of blood against her skin and new bruises already coming to light.

  “What the hell is going on?” Nathaniel asked, the only one to avoid injury.

  “It was Alidyr,” Asher stated flatly, his eyes fixed on Faylen. “He tried to take the gem.”

  “What? How?” Nathaniel did his best to stay out of Reyna’s way, who was darting around collecting sheets to use as bandages.

  “We saw this type of magic at Syla’s Gate…” the princess said on her way past.

  “The assassin with Ro Dosarn,” Asher explained. “Alidyr knows magic that allows him to possess people.”

  “Not people,” Reyna replied on her way back into the room. “This kind of magic is powerful and very old, but there is no spell in all of Verda that allows one to possess just anyone.”

  “What are you saying?” Nathaniel asked.

  Reyna tore a pillowcase into strips and wrapped them around Faylen’s knuckles and palms. “The spell must work like tracking magic. The caster can only track someone if they’re marked or in possession of an item that has been marked.”

  Asher started to take in Faylen from head-to-toe, checking for any signs of Alidyr’s trickery. Reyna sat opposite the ranger and began lifting limbs and running her fingers along her mentor’s skin, but neither could find anything out of the ordinary.

  “Her back,” Nathaniel said with some urgency. “She had pain in her shoulder.”

  “Help me,” Reyna asked, as she and the ranger slowly turned the elf over.

  There were already rips and tears across Faylen’s clothes, but the princess wasted no time ripping a bigger hole. Her back was covered in cuts and bruises from her time trapped in Nightfall, but the burns to her left shoulder stood out. The pattern was intricate and covered her entire shoulder blade, the burns raised against the skin.

  “What is that?” Asher asked, his fingers tracing the glyphs.

  “Ancient runes,” Reyna replied. “I can't read all of them. This one here, though, that is the symbol for Atarae, the goddess of destiny.”

  Asher took in the symbols, their meaning dawning on him. “This kind of spell removes your destiny,” he said absently. “Makes you a puppet instead.”

  The desperation in Reyna’s voice focused Asher. “As long as this marks her skin, Faylen’s body belongs to Alidyr. We have to remove it…”

  “Remove it?” Nathaniel echoed. “How exactly do we remove a burn?”

  The princess sat back, her hand cupping her mouth as she examined the mark. Asher was at a loss for what to do. Nightfall gave little teaching around the subject of spells and growing up with Paldora’s gem gave him such an affinity for magic that he never needed to learn. What he did know, was that Alidyr could take back control at any minute. They had no idea if the spell only worked while Faylen was conscious or if Alidyr had the power to wake her up.

  Reyna’s eyes lit up. “We need to alter the mark!”

  Nathaniel didn't sound convinced. “You mean cut a piece away?”

  “No,” the princess replied, her hands resting over the raised glyphs. “We just need to stop it from being this exact symbol. See these runes? They’re each specific to this spell, every one needed just as they are. If even one of them was wrong it wouldn't work.”

  “You’re talking about burning her,” Asher said with a dark tone.

  “We have no other choice.” Reyna’s tone was firm, but the ranger could hear an edge of uncertainty in her voice. “I can't produce a destructive spell so fine. Nathaniel, pass me that fire iron.”

  The Graycoat hesitated for only a moment. The iron poker glowed with a vibrant orange at one end, its immense heat sending ripples into the air. Reyna commanded both men to hold the elf down, though Asher hoped Faylen would remain unconscious for the ordeal.

  She didn't.

  Asher and Nathaniel pressed into the bed, pinning the stronger Faylen, while Reyna quickly ran the poker over one of the glyphs. The sound and smell were nauseating, but the ranger was forced to concentrate on Faylen’s arm and leg, as the thrashing elf threatened to fight her way free. After a few seconds of rolling the hot fire iron over her skin, the elf sagged and fell back into oblivion.

  All three of them stepped back, exhausted in every way. It was sickening that they had been compelled to perform such an atrocity to their friend. It was another reason to ensure that Alidyr found his end before this war was over. Asher clenched his fist with the rising anger inside of him, but the swelling around his knuckles made it almost impossible.

  “I will kill that beast for this,” Reyna said with fresh tears in her eyes. “Wherever he is, he had better be hurting...”

  Alidyr Yalathanil was thrown across the ground, his body skidding backwards over the fallen leaves and wet mud. Even under the shelter of The Willows, the torrential rain had found him, soaking his dirtied robes and matting his black hair to his face. The aches and pains Faylen had endured stayed with him for several minutes, keeping the ancient elf prone and alone in the forest.

  By the time he sat up, his nose no longer felt broken and his fists didn't feel as if they had been used in the place of an anvil. Remaining on his knees, frustrated and infuriated, Alidyr screamed into the night. His machinations were foiled again and again by the ranger and his companions. How could one human cause so much damage? The elf clawed his way up the trunk of a tree until he found his feet, which still ached as if he had been the one to kick the princess.

  Atarae’s spells were powerful, but they came with a price. It seemed all he had done was pay the price, ever since the ranger was tasked with escorting Princess Reyna to Velia. To learn that he had been in possession of Paldora’s gem since he was a boy, under Alidyr’s very nose, only added to the humiliation that Asher continued to stand in his way.

  He could still see his master, circling him in Calmardra. There was no doubt that Valanis had been moments away from killing him. A part of Alidyr knew that’s what should have happened, that after so many failures his fate should be death. Now he faced exile. Exile from the Hand, from his master’s side and exile from a Verda fit for the gods.

  The hatred and righteous anger that lived inside Alidyr would see him go on, however, until he finally had that Outlander’s heart in his hand. Asher had seen to it that he was robbed of everything from his title to his place in the new world. That was an injustice that could only be undone with blood.

  The elf fell to his knees again in despair, clutching the hilt of his diamond-tipped short-sword. He felt a sense of hope in that grip, a sense of atonement that could be achieved. Should he catch up to the ranger and reclaim his other blade and the gem, there was a chance that Valanis would welcome him back into the light. With what little energy he could summon, Alidyr stood up and strode out of The Willows, heading north…

  25

  The Veil

  Gideon slowly made his way up the rocky tiers, careful not to fall over with his eyes fixed on the relic before him. A surge of magic throu
gh his staff had the light pushing the shadows further back and Adriel whispered the softest of spells to have the orbs above them increase their glow. The purple crystals, dotted throughout the cavern, sparkled back at the young Dragorn, but their beauty was dulled when compared to The Veil.

  A slender podium of rock sat underneath the metallic orb, though it offered no support, as The Veil floated several inches above it. Under the light from his staff, Gideon could see delicate runes tracing the surface of the orb, but they were too small to make out.

  “I thought it would be… bigger,” Gideon said.

  “Astonishing, isn't it?” Adriel walked around the other side of the natural podium. “That so much evil could be unleashed upon the world by something so small.”

  Gideon had longed for a life of adventure during his days in Korkanath, and despite the harrowing nature of his life since he had left that island, discovering an ancient relic in the heart of a mountain, where no human has ever been before, brought a smile to his face.

  “How does it work?” the Dragorn asked.

  “We do not know,” Adriel replied. “It was studied for a time, but it never revealed a single secret. We know from the memories of Garganafan himself that it opens a doorway to another place, but that is all.”

  “How do we know dropping it back into the pools of Naius will destroy it? Kaliban has never been found.”

  Adriel reached out and took The Veil from its floating perch. “Elandril and many other powerful Dragorn attempted to destroy it over the years. It is resistant to all magic, even that of a dragon’s. It was Angala the wise who sat with it for over a year on The Lifeless Isles.”

  Gideon could still hear the dragon’s dying roar in the heart of Malaysai. He hadn't known the dragon in any great depth, but he shared Ilargo’s heart now, and in so doing he shared their loss and the pain of her passing.