She attacked with her sword again and again. The air around them vibrated with a pinching viciousness. He gathered his power to him, stealing it from the sky down to the tiniest shadow. She pulled her own into Ynyd Eirathnacht. The sword jumped in her hand, excited to feel the strength of her ShantiMari.
It glowed white as she swung it out to the side in a broad slice at Valterys’s legs. He faltered mid-jump and her sword caught the front of his leg above the knee. He cursed her, sending a ball of power slamming into her midsection, throwing her against a column. Sparks lit the backs of her eyelids. The wind whooshed from her lungs. She scrambled to keep herself from falling, to regain control.
Taryn? Rhoane’s voice echoed in her mind and she struggled to answer him.
I am fine. Stay with Baehlon. The sound of their sword fight echoed around the chamber.
Her father’s laughter taunted her as he sent another flaming ball of Dark Shanti at her head. She dodged it, jumping to the side to avoid his rapid-fire attacks. His sword pulsed black with a strange power Taryn didn’t want to acknowledge. For the first time since she entered the temple, she knew fear.
Valterys was a master of the Black Arts.
The realization cut her deeper than she’d thought possible. How was it she could be related to such a monster? Marissa’s words echoed in her mind, but she refused to believe she could ever be like them.
Valterys sensed the slip in her confidence and thrust the sword at her. A fierce light burned from the blade. When Ynyd Eirathnacht met it in mid-air, the force knocked Taryn to the ground. She rolled to her feet, gasping for breath. A searing pain shot through her vorlock scar, opening it anew. Valterys advanced on her, sucking her power.
Rhoane, he is stealing my power. How can I stop him?
Cut the thread. Only you can see it—it must be you.
Taryn searched frantically for a thread but saw only darkness. Valterys was almost upon her. She was weakening with each step. Ynyd Eirathnacht pulsed beside her and she spun it around like a dervish, making Valterys pause long enough for Taryn to spy a tiny sliver of inky black linking her to his sword.
With what little strength she had left, she sliced through the thread. A sharp bell clanged and she stumbled backward, as did Valterys.
The Black sword lost its glow as her strength flowed back into her. Taryn strode toward her father, anger roiling along every inch of her skin. He scrambled up, casting himself far into the air above her. She leapt up to where he bent double, catching his breath. Before he could raise his sword, she kicked him in the gut and then spun around to punch him alongside his head with her fist.
She moved with speed and precision through her karate moves, her mind empty but for Valterys. His movements were jerky as he held his sword out for protection. She cut through the black steel with all the force of her ShantiMari. It shattered with a deafening screech, tiny fragments raining down to the floor.
Valterys gaped at her, fear in his eyes. Rykoto laughed maniacally from his living grave far below.
“Tell him to shut up,” Taryn said through gritted teeth. “Or I’ll kill you.” She held her sword at his throat.
“He wants your blood, Taryn. He won’t stop until he has it. You are the only thing that can restore him to his former glory. Kill me if you must, but there will always be another.”
He snapped his fingers and a staff appeared in his hands. He butted her scar with the end of the rod and she staggered back, breathless from the pain. “You’re making this too easy.” Blades appeared on each end of his spinning staff.
He advanced and she studied the rotation of the staff, pacing the timing. When he was two steps from her, she cut upward, slicing the weapon in two. Undeterred, he raised the broken pieces like clubs, ready to crush her skull. The next several heartbeats moved in slow motion. She swung her sword to counter his attack when Zakael appeared behind Valterys, his sword impaling her father through the chest. Valterys’s shocked stare met hers. Zakael whispered in his father’s ear before pulling his sword free and vanishing.
A sickening crunch of bone echoed in her head as her sword sliced through Valterys’s neck. Ynyd Eirathnacht shrieked, as did her pendant. Rhoane’scynfarsang out to join them. Valterys’s head bobbled once, then rolled off his body, falling to the temple floor. Taryn stared in calm silence as his body rocked forward and then it, too, fell through the air, landing in a heap on the altar.
It seemed to her she stared at the night sky for the span of ten lifetimes, when in truth it was no more than a moment. The stars blinked against their velvety blanket as they always had. The crisp air smelled clean where she floated above the temple. A light snow started to fall and she wanted to laugh. Snow in summer. But of course, this far north, it was perpetually winter. Something had been lost—hopefully much more had been gained.
She floated to the temple floor, stepping around her father’s mangled head to where Zakael stood with his sword held aloft. She gently lowered it. “Why, Zakael?”
“You should have taken my offer. It’s not too late.” His eyes flicked to Valterys. “I would hate for that to be you someday.”
Rhoane moved to strike Zakael, but Taryn stopped him. “There has been enough bloodshed this night. Take Valterys and leave this place.”
“Taryn, do you think that wise?” Baehlon asked.
“What choice do I have? He is my father, too.”
A soul wrenching scream from the temple entrance shattered the moment and they turned as one. Marissa stood in the doorway, surveying the destruction and the body on the altar. She gasped for breath, a hand on her swollen belly as she sank to the floor. Zakael rushed toward her, but Taryn ran past him, calling for Faelara.
Faelara knelt beside the princess and prodded her body with her fingertips. “What were you thinking, taking this risk?”
“I had to stop him,” Marissa choked. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she groaned in pain. “Nadra help me.”
A river of clear liquid ran beneath Marissa, and Taryn stared at Faelara. “It’s early.”
“About two moonturns, by my calculations. We’ll need to deliver this baby here.” She positioned herself between Marissa’s legs and pushed the princess’s gown over her knees. “Keep her with us, Taryn. I need her help to get this child out. Baehlon, get some snow and melt it until it’s hot.”
“I don’t have that kind of power.”
“Yes, you do. Now don’t waste any more of my time. Zakael, make yourself useful and find me something to wrap the baby in once it’s born. A cloak would suffice. Rhoane, help Baehlon with the water.” Rhoane raced in one direction and Zakael in another, returning moments later with his wool cloak.
Marissa groaned louder and Taryn counted how long the pain lasted. “The contractions are close together. Can you see the baby’s head?”
Faelara grinned. “I’ve been looking at it all this while.”
Marissa grabbed Taryn’s arm and squeezed. “Don’t let him do it. You must stop him,” she wheezed.
“It’s okay, Marissa. Eliahnna is safe,” Taryn reassured her sister.
“No, no.” Marissa moaned, falling back against Taryn’s lap. She soothed her sister while observing how Faelara maneuvered the baby’s shoulders. Marissa cried out again and then went limp. Sweat rolled down her face and her lips turned an awful shade of blue.
Zakael ran off once more and returned with Taryn’s discarded fabric. “To clean the baby,” he said, offering it to Faelara.
“Thank you, Zakael. Just hold it for now.”
Rhoane and Baehlon entered with a large ceramic basin filled with steaming water. At Faelara’s furrowed brow, Baehlon explained, “The offering bowl.”
Faelara nodded and indicated they set it down beside her.
The men watched with a mixture of awe and terror as Faelara shifted and pulled on the baby. Marissa screamed with each tug until finally the little thing slipped free. Faelara held him aloft. “It’s a boy.” She took the cloth from Zaka
el, gently wiping the newborn until his skin was pink and clean.
Marissa struggled to sit up, demanding her baby. Faelara cut the birth cord, tying it with a thread of her Mari before handing the baby to the princess. Marissa beheld the child and half-sobbed, half-gasped. “Oh, Armando.”
“Is that the child’s name?” Faelara asked.
“No, he’s the father,” Taryn and Rhoane said in unison. A look of relief crossed Rhoane’s face.
A thousand score of Eleri voices whispered in her mind, telling of the Black Princess’s betrayal and deceit. Marissa’s oath to Rhoane saw its completion. Her name would forevermore be a hideous curse to all Eleri.
“No,” Zakael argued, his ShantiMari flaring with terrifying force. “This child is mine. He will be more powerful than even you.”
“It is you who is mistaken, Zakael.” Rhoane’s power flared equally strong. “You know what happened at Gaarendahl. Were you aware Marissa told me this child was mine? She manipulated you just as she does everyone, even those who have shown her kindness.” His stern gaze never left Taryn and a thrill rushed through her.
“Ask her yourself,” Taryn challenged.
Zakael knelt beside Marissa and said with more tenderness than Taryn ever thought he could possess, “Marissa was with child long before your visit to Gaarendahl, and I am the only one who could have fathered him.” He took the baby from Marissa, his eyes shining with unshed tears.
The crown princess wept quietly and lay back against Taryn, defeated.
Zakael searched the child’s face, looking deep into his dull brown eyes. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “You swore to me you’d been with no other.”
A wildness entered his eyes and Taryn wrapped a protective arm around her sister.
“You swore, you stupid whore! He was supposed to bemy Eirielle.” With a grunt of disgust, he thrust the baby into Marissa’s arms. “This child has no ShantiMari. He is no son of mine.” The venomous glare he gave Marissa made Taryn’s insides quail.
The walls vibrated with Zakael’s anger. His ShantiMari, deep grey and spinning in a fury through the open space, overwhelmed Taryn with its enormity. He’d withheld more than teaching while they were at Gaarendahl. His power, edged in the telltale signs of Black ShantiMari, was far greater than either Lliandra’s or Valterys’s.
“I hope you die a long, painful death in the fires of Dal Ferran, you worthless cur.” Every word was like a hammer to anvil and Marissa flinched deeper into Taryn’s lap with each syllable spat at her. “Never seek me out again, for certainly I will end your existence.”
Zakael whirled once, transforming into a feiche. His powerful talons gripped Valterys’s head before lifting into the air. It wasn’t until he was a speck in the sky that anyone spoke.
“We must get Marissa and the baby to Talaith. It is too cold here for them to last,” Faelara said, her voice trembling.
While the others made the necessary preparations, Taryn stroked her nephew’s dark curls. He looked like his father in miniature. Marissa slumped in her lap, her eyelids fluttering closed, her breathing labored.
Taryn slipped into her sister’s mind. Filth slid over her. She was disgusted by the savagery Marissa was capable of, but kept searching until she found what she needed.
You shouldn’t have come here, Marissa.
You are an abomination who should be killed. Marissa’s thought slammed into Taryn and she reeled against it.
You tried to destroy me, but you failed. You will never be Rykoto’s queen. Zakael made certain of that when he killed Valterys.
There is no place for you in this world, filthy Offlander. Rykoto will take me as his queen and you will obey my command. I never needed Valterys.
The Blood and Blade of the one who is and is not.What is the third requirement to free Rykoto?Marissa’s face turned an ashen shade, her pulse barely more than a flicker. The others were about done with their preparations and time was running out.
Marissa gurgled a laugh, the sound sickening Taryn.Even if I knew, I’d never tell you. But the phantom knows. Ask him yourself the next time he visits.
Icy pricks roved up her arms to her neck.Why does the phantom know? How?
He knows everything about you. He’s inside your mind, Taryn. Right now.
No, Taryn told herself. This was yet another ploy by Marissa to unsettle her. She shut out her sister’s taunts and straightened her shoulders, warming her skin as she did.
These are just words. They can not hurt me, nor can you. All of your plans have failed, dear sister. You tried to destroy me, but I grew stronger. You tried to take Rhoane from me, but our bonds are unbreakable. You couldn’t be me and so you tried to surpass me. Now all is lost for you. It was you who sent Valterys here with Eliahnna, but she lives. She will sit on your throne as the rightful Lady of Light.
Marissa gasped and shook her head, moaning. She’d risked her child’s life to make certain no one stopped Valterys from killing their sister. Only Taryn’s blood would release Rykoto, but her sisters’ could strengthen him. Dangerously so. Valterys had sought Rykoto’s release to gain immortality for himself and Marissa, but she’d betrayed him by telling Zakael their plan to overthrow first Rykoto, then Lliandra.
It never occurred to her Zakael would reject her because she never for a moment believed the child could be anyone else’s. The gods would never be so cruel as to give her, the crown princess, a powerless bastard. It was inconceivable. Marissa was just as delusional as Zakael. They were a perfect match as far as Taryn was concerned.
I’m going to give your baby, a prince, to his father to be raised as a commoner.Taryn cooed in her sister’s mind.
“Please,” Marissa begged. “Have mercy.”
You chose your path and now, I’m choosing mine.Tears rolled down Taryn’s cheeks.It should have been different, Marissa. We should’ve been allies. At least I can grant you one small favor. You’ll be with Rykoto, but not as his queen. For all eternity, you’ll be nothing more than an amusement. A diversion to keep his thoughts away from me.
You’ve been playing a dangerous game, but you severely underestimated me. You are already close to death. It would be nothing for me to give you strength to make it to Talaith, but I promised you at Gaarendahl I would not have mercy a second time. I’m sorry, my sister.
Marissa opened her mouth to object and Taryn closed her mind around the faintly beating heart, commanding it to stop. A small cry escaped Marissa’s lips before she slumped lifeless against her lap.
Taryn wept not just for the death of her sister, but for the innocent boy who would grow up never knowing his kin. Mostly, she wept for Rhoane and the anguish he suffered because of Marissa. In the end, she was right. Taryn was more like her than she’d thought. She didn’t flinch from the truth. Instead, she embraced it.
Faelara took the child from Marissa’s dead hands, cradling him in her arms. They wrapped Marissa in Zakael’s cloak before Baehlon took her outside. Rhoane helped Taryn stand and when their eyes met, the sadness she saw in the mossy depths confirmed he knew what she’d done. She looked away, ashamed.
A rivulet of Marissa’s birthing blood crossed in front of her slipper. She followed it as it ran through the maze toward the center of the room. Her gaze traveled up the altar to where Valterys’s headless body lay. Blood streamed down the side onto the floor. Blood of both Light and Dark. Taryn grabbed her sword, ordering everyone out.
“Taryn, there is no danger. Valterys is dead and Zakael is gone,” Baehlon said, looking toward the still dark sky.
“Don’t argue, just get out!”
He scowled at her but did as she asked, with Faelara right behind him. Rhoane hung back. “What is it?”
“There’s no time to explain. Unless you want to be Rykoto’s next meal, you’ll do as I say and get the hell out of here.” Taryn pleaded with him to leave. “You have to trust me.”
Rhoane swore at the gods before storming out of the temple.
With the others out o
f harm’s way, she stood over the hole in the floor and plunged her sword deep into it. She forced the trinity of power within her through the steel, chanting over and over. “This is a sacred space—let no harm befall anyone here. Rykoto will slumber in peace.”
Ynyd Eirathnacht rose in song, with Rhoane’s sword adding a deep bass from outside the temple. The melody they sang was ancient, from before the Great War. Taryn hummed with them, instinctually knowing the lyrics.
A white light, brighter than Nadra’s brilliance, lit from the sword to every inch of the temple, cleansing it of Valterys’s sacrificial stink. The trails of blood from Marissa and Valterys sizzled and popped before scorching to nothingness. The acrid smell burned her senses and she buried her face in her shoulder.
In his earthly cell, Rykoto shrank from her words and the song of her blade. He cursed her, damning her to several cruel fates. He, too, had underestimated her power and swore vengeance on all those she held dear. Her reply was to push her sword farther into the floor, her power pulsating harder until it touched Rykoto. He screamed against the purity of her light.
When the floor and walls shone white in the moonlight, she lifted the ceiling, restoring the temple to its original grandeur. Rykoto taunted her from deep in his prison. “Little girl, leave this place before it becomes your tomb as well.”
“I don’t fear you, Rykoto. I am Eirielle, the Child of Light and Dark. I amDarennsai.” She jerked her sword free from the floor. “You have no power over me.”
His answer whispered through the walls like the hiss of a trapped cobra. “You cannot hide from me, Eirielle. I will hunt you day and night. You will know no rest until your blood is mine.”
“Hunt me, dead god. Chase me with your wicked words and fruitless visions. When we meet again, it will be the end of you.” She glanced around the room, noticing for the first time the seals placed within each column. Five held only empty holes. “Sleep now, for I have business elsewhere.”
Rykoto chuckled. “You grow stronger, little girl. Still, you are no match for a god.” A blast of hot air shot out of the hole, singeing her bare legs. She cried out and Rykoto laughed harder. “Come back anytime. I like to play with my food before I eat it.”
The Temple of Ardyn (Song of the Swords Book 2) Page 39