Waresh held out his hand, motioning Endira to stay back. He hefted Heartsbane in front of himself as he approached the swirling shards of metal surrounding the Engineer. He needn’t have tried to move stealthily—the noise from the roiling barrier masked his steps. The barrier was protecting the Engineer from physical attacks, but he wondered if he had some other magical protection beyond that.
Father and daughter were locked in a mortal, unseen battle of wills. The electricity in the air from invisible forces made the hairs on Waresh’s arms stand up. One glance at Nera’s pain-stricken face made up his mind.
Endira said she is losing. I may truly be Nera’s last hope. I must do something while this bastard is distracted. He could sense the magic leaking from the axe like water through a sieve. It will soon be gone… I must use what is left to give her a chance.
He thought again of her last words to him after she broke the cursed axe, words that continued to haunt him. “Waresh, you are free. But you must want to be. Break the fetters that hold you trapped in your own mind, in your own hatred and self-loathing. Your will is your own now—go and do what you will as a free man for the first time in long years.”
This is me chance to repay her kindness and set things right.
The thought of what he must do nearly stole his courage. Gods, this won’t be easy. But one last look at Nera’s tortured face shored up his willpower.
Reiktir, let this be me penance for all of me evil deeds.
Drawing on the waning power of Heartsbane, Waresh strode forward and, axe extended as far as he could, plunged it into the barrier of swirling shards. Metal ricocheted off the axe with a terrible clamor, sparks flying.
The Engineer stiffened, aware of his presence.
He had but a moment to act. With a deep breath, Waresh charged forward.
Razor-sharp shards of Abyssal iron, the hardest metal in the multiverse, cut through his hands and arms, slashing through armor, clothing, and flesh as if it were silk. Heartsbane’s ebbing magic blunted the pain, but it was not enough. Waresh screamed as chunks of flesh were whittled from his body. His legs pumped furiously, and he was enveloped within the barrier. One eye was carved out in a shower of crimson and dancing lights. Shards tore through his nose and lips, slashing his hair and beard to tatters, then the rest of his body, carving through muscle then bone. Something that felt like a massive spear cleaved his guts. He felt suddenly, immensely cold, as if his body was pierced with holes and a frigid wind blew through him.
A long, bloody trail followed him, lumps of flesh and gore spraying through the air. All that happened within mere instants, then Waresh was through the field of blades, his body little more than a skeleton held together by ragged clumps of flesh and sinew, driven by stubbornness and determination alone.
He raised Heartsbane high in trembling arms and drove it into the Engineer’s back. It pierced what must’ve been a magical shield with a flash of light. The axe met resistance for a brief moment, then came an explosion of energy. Heartsbane shattered, the last of its power expended in the blast. Waresh’s aim was true, and the remaining jagged shard of metal in his hands struck home, cleaving through muscle and lodging in the Engineer’s spine.
The Engineer cried out in pain and stumbled forward, his movement wrenching the remnant of Heartsbane from Waresh’s weak grip. The shards of metal forming the barrier dropped to the ground with a resounding clatter, and the Engineer fell to his knees.
Waresh tumbled to the floor, a cold numbness sweeping through what remained of his nerves. He twitched on the ground, heart shuddering from the great trauma to his body.
Cold swallowed him, and all was dark.
***
Endira gasped at the awful price Waresh paid to save Nera. Tears streamed down her face as she witnessed his heroic sacrifice. She couldn’t bear to look at the mangled form that had been a companion and friend.
Ahead, the Engineer was gasping, struggling to rise from his knees. The vile staff that pierced Nera had slipped from his grasp. His psionic assault had ended. Nera’s eyes were blinking slowly as she struggled to regain her senses.
Endira could feel the fell power flowing off the Engineer’s staff like a chill aura. The staff was disrupting Nera’s power somehow—she didn’t know whether it was leaching it or merely blocking it, but her friend was unable to fight back.
She ran across the room and grasped the shaft of the staff. Her gut roiled from the ill touch of the weapon. She made to draw it free of Nera’s chest, but it was held firm.
The Engineer was gripping the head of the staff. His lantern eyes glared at her in hatred.
“Little elf, you’ve meddled enough,” he growled. His psionic energy swelled as he focused on her.
With her waning reserves of power, Endira metamorphosed her left arm into the familiar blade. She hacked through the Engineer’s wrist with a quick slice.
He cried out, but she ignored him, drawing the fell staff free of Nera. She struck the Engineer in the face with the staff, knocking him back. Again and again, she struck him, knocking him to his side.
Endira raised it overhead, meaning to impale him as he had Nera, when a cluster of the shards which had formed his barrier lifted from the floor and streaked toward her, about to cut her to shreds.
But then they stopped, inches from her neck and chest. The shards vibrated then crumbled into dust-sized particles.
Endira glanced around to see Nera standing behind her in all her glory, the power blazing from her so strongly that Endira was forced to shield her mind once more.
***
Nera felt her mind clear when the Engineer’s psionic assault ended, cut off with a burst of his own agony. She tried to summon her own powers, but the cursed staff held her in its grip. As soon as Endira pulled it free, Nera felt her ties with Nexus restored, the power surging back into her.
She healed her grievous wounds with a thought. Turning her attention to the Engineer, she stopped his shards before they struck Endira, and rendered them to dust.
“Step away, Endira. He’s still dangerous.”
Flames shot from her hands, washing over the Engineer. He cried out as his robes were burned away, skin blackening and crisping. He writhed on the ground in agony.
“Lend me your skill,” she asked Endira mentally. “Show me how to render his mind unconscious.”
She reached out and felt their minds link. Endira directed her, guiding her until she could sense the depths of the Engineer’s mind responsible for his motor controls. She realized she could even tell his heart to stop beating or prevent his lungs from drawing breath if she wished it, but instead she drove him into a deep unconsciousness. As he had tormented her mind, Nera kept a small portion of her attention toward preventing him from awakening.
“What of this?” Endira held out Sorrowful Cessation, her face twisted in disgust.
“It’s too dangerous to let fall into the wrong hands. I’ll deal with it later.” Nera took the staff, shuddering at its ill touch, and hurled it into the wall across the room. The stone parted, allowing the staff to penetrate until it was entirely engulfed within the wall, then sealed it up inside.
Nera knelt beside Waresh’s mutilated form. The dwarf had been reduced to a fraction of his previous self, lying in a vast puddle of blood and mutilated gobs of flesh.
Her stomach heaved at the grisly sight of her companion, but she managed to keep her gorge down.
“Oh, Waresh.” She placed a hand on the dwarf’s cold forehead, barely more than blood-slicked bone, but he was in the hands of the gods already. “Thank you for your tremendous courage. I will have a statue carved in your honor. I hope you found your peace at the end, my friend.”
With a moment’s concentration, she healed Waresh’s dead flesh until he was whole once more, save his soul, which had already departed for the afterlife. She would not have her brave companion receive his funeral rites in such a sorry state.
Endira came up beside her. “I will see that he’s lai
d to rest in the mountain halls of his ancestors, wherever his home is.”
“I think he would prefer to be interred here, among friends. From what I saw in his mind when I broke the axe’s grip on it, he likely wouldn’t be welcomed home nor be comfortable being returned there.”
“Ah, yes, you may be right.”
Since she was in control of her senses once more, Nera considered the unusual presence that had arrived in Nexus moments before, one that confused her. It seemed to belong to a former companion but was somehow greater. His arrival heralded the defeat of the turmahr, and she sensed its incorporeal form banished back to the Abyss. Even as the spirits of the defenders were heartened, so were her own.
“Good news—the tide of battle is turning. But there is something else we must do. Will you find what we need from him?” she asked, nodding at the Engineer.
As Endira probed his unconscious mind, Nera extended her own senses, seeking out one particular person among all of those in Nexus. Not yet accustomed to her powers, she was stymied at first, but eventually she was able to pinpoint the one she needed—Flurbinger Flent, whom she had never met, yet she knew him by virtue of her tether to the city. Indeed, he was Nexus’s most faithful caretaker.
She sensed his fear as her magic enveloped him, then he appeared before her.
The gnome’s eyes widened in alarm, and he looked wildly around. She could feel his growing panic.
“Easy there, old-timer,” she said gently, touching and soothing his mind.
Flurbinger glared at her suspiciously. “Who are you? This new Lady of Twilight, I presume?” His eyes fell on the prostrate Engineer and Architect, and his mouth sagged open in shock.
“So that is what they are calling me? Hmm… not bad, I suppose—more flattering than some names I could think of.”
Flurbinger seemed discomfited by her banter, but once he got over his shock, she could almost see his keen mind working, taking stock of the situation.
“What do you intend to do now that they are defeated?” he asked.
“I intend to give Nexus the steady leadership it needs.”
The gnome looked dubious but seemed to know better than to say anything to put him in bad graces with his new boss. “And I reckon you need my help to end this war, then?”
Nera gave him her most ingratiating smile. “I would be most grateful if you’d assist us, Master Flent.”
Flurbinger blushed and drew himself up, straightening his grubby overalls. “I’d be happy to assist, milady. How—”
She put her hand on his balding head and provided the link needed. As Endira sifted through the Engineer’s unconscious mind, Nera transferred the knowledge regarding the Machine to the gnome.
His eyes bulged, and his knees went weak as knowledge flooded his mind. After a few moments, the transference was complete. Endira and Nera exchanged a glance then studied Flurbinger.
The gnome wobbled as if he’d fall over. After a moment, he regained his composure, and his face lit up.
“I can fix it! I know what he did!” he babbled. “Ooh, that was clever—he misaligned the transaxle in the core by removing the third and fourth sprockets…”
Nera ignored the rest of what he was saying. “Do you think it worked?” she asked Endira over the excited gnome’s head.
“I believe so. It looks like you unlocked the same area of his mind as in your own and the Engineer’s.”
“And I gave him a small stream of my own power to complete his task. Once it is finished, I shall withdraw that unless I have further need of his knowledge.”
Flurbinger was muttering what sounded like calculations to himself.
Nera snapped her fingers before his face, interrupting him. He blinked in confusion.
“Master Flent—return and fix the Machine!”
He grinned and nodded his head. He turned to find his way back, but Nera simply teleported him away.
***
“You say the fault is where?” Dontarius scratched his head. “We can’t get to the core without dismantling it, and that’s strictly forbidden!”
“I know, I know! What I’m trying to say is I don’t need to. Just watch.” Flurbinger stood at the very base of the Machine, beside the sealed core surrounding the massive shaft buried in the bedrock.
He placed his hands on the core’s Abyssal iron wall and concentrated. He couldn’t help remembering seeing the Engineer do something very similar the prior day, to amplify all the chaos.
A rush of excitement filled him as he felt an otherworldly power flow though him—her power she had granted him—and he could feel the components within the core as clearly as if seeing and feeling them with his own eyes and hands.
There was a deep clunk and a screech as the transaxle was realigned, the third and fourth sprockets returned to their proper positions. He made a couple other needed adjustments then felt the ultimate satisfaction as the Machine itself clattered and rumbled into motion. Dust fell from the ceiling, and Dontarius hollered in glee.
After a few moments, it came to a halt once again. The great Machine had made a correction, slamming shut the Abyssal portals and ending the war.
“Is that it?” Dontarius asked, obviously disappointed.
“Aye, that’s it for now!” Flurbinger clapped him on the back. “We have no power source! We’ll have to rebuild the foundry or else find a workaround power source. Get the crew together—time’s a-wasting, and we’ve got work to do.”
The old dwarf’s eyes lit up, matching those of his friend, and he ran down the tunnel, his vigorous pace belying his advanced years.
Flurbinger couldn’t blame him, for he felt exuberant also. He silently thanked the new Lady of Twilight for her faith in him. “Today is a great day—we will build something truly wondrous!” He dug into the pocket of his overalls and pulled out his slate and piece of chalk and got to work, sketching out the first of his ideas.
Chapter 35
Wyat fought on with renewed determination. Although the Abyssal legions still vastly outnumbered Nexus’s defenders, the horde’s morale had been crushed after the turmahr’s stunning defeat, the tide of battle turned. The demons had been pushed back from the walls, fighting half-heartedly and milling around the portals. Many sought to flee through the portals while others, ignorant of the battle situation, still charged through. Confusion and altercations ensued within their own ranks.
He was still marveling at what had happened. At the moment their destruction had seemed assured, Idrimel had summoned a celestial—her brother, by Yosrick’s account—who had destroyed the turmahr. Then she had led the charge to counterattack, a lovely and courageous figure who had inspired the defenders. He could already imagine the bards singing the praises of the beautiful maiden who had called down her god’s wrath and destroyed the greatest of fiends.
A pair of disoriented krabuk crossed Wyat’s path, and he swiftly cut them down. After dispatching them, he found himself in the clear.
In the distance, the Abyssal portal farthest on the right caught his attention. It flickered for a moment, shooting off great flares of blue fire, before collapsing shut. The other three closed in quick succession.
“The portals are shut! The day is ours!” he shouted, his voice already hoarse.
Cheers rose up around them but hushed after a moment. Voices murmured in awe and fingers pointed.
An imposing figure was approaching from the direction of Nexus, levitating over the battlefield. She had porcelain skin, long black hair streaming behind her, and robes of a shimmering lavender shade. Her sheer presence fell over the defenders, quieting them. Her beauty was striking yet equally unnerving. The woman’s eyes drew the most attention—rust colored and glowing like stoked embers.
Nera! A wide grin split Wyat’s face as his heart nearly burst with pride. He was awed by what she had become.
“I, the Lady of Twilight, place Nexus under my protection. You are unwelcome in my city, fiends of the Abyss!” Her voice crackled with power, reve
rberating over the Ashen Plains. The lesser amongst the fiends cowered away. “I thank the brave defenders of Nexus for your service and sacrifice—your heroic deeds will become legends. I now ask you to fall back and clear the field, for you have given enough this day.”
The tone brooked no argument, and the defenders swiftly fell back. The legions, still several thousand strong, milled around nervously, the braver fiends snarling and hurling taunts and curses at Nera.
A dreelahrnu, a hideous two-headed monstrous fiend, stepped forth with a roar of challenge and hurled its fell spear at Nera. Her eyes fell upon it, blazing bright with anger. The spear stopped in midflight, slowly swiveled around until it faced the dreelahrnu, and then streaked right back at it. The fiend, surprised, raised a hand to catch its spear. The instant the weapon touched the monster, a ripple ran through its body, and it exploded like a burst blood sausage, green ichor and chunks of flesh spraying its fellow demons.
The retreating defenders murmured in awe while the horde was suitably cowed before her display of power.
Nera floated down from the sky, her back to the defenders, and faced the fiends. Raising her hands, she cried out, “Begone from this place!”
The ground itself rose before her, swelling higher and higher like some great wave upon the sea as she again flew high into the sky. The ground stretched tight, like a canvas tarp beneath Nera’s feet.
Cries and screams met Wyat’s ears from the other side of the steep ridge of ground that had suddenly formed. He could imagine what was happening—the fiends were being sent tumbling off into the void between planes.
After a few moments, the ground slowly sank to its original position, and all could witness the battlefield swept clean of the fiends. Nothing remained save the bodies of the fallen defenders.
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