by Ryk E. Spoor
But even as the hope dawned in his heart, her head came up, and black flame burned anew in her eyes. “NO,” she said, and the refusal shook the Tower. “No, you will not divert me, you will not play on my corruption and make me betray the one who even now reaches out his hand to crush your world beneath him!” The great sword darkened the air with its power. “There is no hope for your pathetic Light here, for Kerlamion Blackstar walks this world and it will soon be his—and any who think otherwise are doomed! I will prove this to Miri, and she will be cured!”
Her hand darted to her belt, and Tobimar realized that they were too far separated for him to stop her, even as he started a desperate lunge forward.
She cast the crystal disc outward, shouting, “COME FORTH!”
Just as the disc struck the unyielding stone surface, it registered with Tobimar—and with Kalshae, whose eyes widened in disbelieving horror—that it was of shining, water-clear crystal, as uncolored as a breath of air.
A blaze of white light enveloped Kalshae and seethed about the point where the crystal had struck. An echoing, agonized shriek pierced Tobimar’s ears as the light surged, vibrated back and forth, both nexuses of light brightening, expanding . . .
The explosion blew him across the Tower, shattered the remaining walls, cracked the floor itself. Tobimar found himself sliding off, plummeting through the air. But the godspower was still in him, and he realized that he could simply will the air to support his feet, and it did; he stood and then ran back into the broken tower.
A smoking black crater, crackling with light and dark, and the twisted remains of a cylindrical device were the only things remaining where Kalshae had stood.
Poplock eased his way out from a pile of rubble, looking pensively at the crater.
“And that,” he said, “is why you don’t try summoning yourself.”
CHAPTER 47
Miri tugged in vain at the hands holding her. Useless. They have been given very clear commands, and the power driving them is now . . . immense.
The Unity Guards dragged her implacably down the shadowed corridor, and she felt the darkness radiating from ahead, a palpable malice and hatred that sought out the part of her that was as of yet still the original demon. But now the vaster part of her was something else, something that fought desperately against that immeasurable malevolence. But I cannot do so forever. A day, a week, a month perhaps, but then I will fall.
She laughed bitterly. The armored figures took no notice—they were completely dominated by their mission now, and no humanity was left. But it was so very ironic that she had fought hard and long to keep her destructive, vicious nature untouched, had denied the Light its foothold, and now, having finally opened herself up to the joy that she had battled so long, was waging a futile battle to not become what she had been.
And this close to such darkness, she dared not use her full power and expose her essence to something that might easily tip her back over into the darkness that waited so very, very near. In fighting I might lose everything.
If only I could weaken them somehow. But there was no way; by commanding that she be taken, Kalshae had automatically neutralized Miri’s command over the Unity Guards and their armor. She wouldn’t be pulling the same trick on them that she’d managed on the renegade Govi Zergul. The same thing would have happened to Kalshae if Miri had given the order; it was a safeguard they had both agreed upon, for precisely this sort of situation, and it had proven useful in the past when the others of their brethren had gone bad. Or, to be more accurate, gone good. Miri had fully intended to use that trick on Kalshae; she’d just been beaten to the punch.
Distantly from overhead came a shuddering vibration, then a muffled booming that seemed to come from all around. Something’s happening, something not in the ritual. She felt a faint stirring of hope, but the smothering power of the evil that lurked beneath the lake nearly snuffed it out. Almost there.
Then a faint sound, but one that was closer, much closer. A voice? She stopped, and noticed that her escort had also paused.
“Miri! I’m coming!”
PHOENIX!
“I’m here!” she shouted back, and threw all the strength in her small body against the pinioning arms.
Now there was a distant glow, a golden point of fire, growing, and Miri felt the tug of a very different power approaching, contesting with and pushing back the darkness towards which she had been drawn. Just a little closer, Phoenix, please . . .
Dravan Igo and Anora stepped between Miri and the charging Phoenix. “Get her to the cell. We shall stop her.”
Miri felt herself dragged back even faster than before, Tanvol and the three others trying to complete their mission while Dravan and Anora dealt with the intruder. Miri fought to slow herself, but it was useless; the Unity Guards were well-trained in how to keep a recalcitrant prisoner moving, and her own Light armor was being suppressed. She had managed to keep Kalshae from simply causing it to remove itself, but unless Miri could somehow get away from the Unity Guards under Kalshae’s control, she wouldn’t be able to make use of the armor or much of her own power.
She still clung to hope, but there was fear now, corrosive fear as to what might happen to Phoenix. I . . . I really do think I love her. But against two Lights—
Even as she thought that, there was an amber-orange explosion of light and Anora was gone.
What . . . ?
And suddenly she understood and laughed triumphantly, for the Phoenix was there, and Dravan grunted as the impact drove him back a full two steps before he could regain his footing.
Summoned! Kalshae had to summon Anora to her, which means something’s pushing her hard! And Phoenix is here, so she escaped! And . . .
The Light of Myrionar surrounded her, keeping the darkness behind from quite touching her. Miri took a breath and reached deep within herself . . .
Strength surged up from within; she saw her skin transform from near-white to the blue-black of darkest sapphire, and the Unity Guards suddenly leapt back, realizing something had gone very wrong. She whirled and kicked out, making them back off another few feet, judging, analyzing.
But that, really, was their major weakness. Too much time analyzing, not enough acting. “Kolvaka urdruon, heshok!”
The Stone Prison erupted from the polished rock of the corridor, pillars spearing upward and downward from mere inches in front of Miri all the way back to the limit of her sight. Herminta and the violet-armored Hue Pini were impaled by stone columns, shattering the Guard Armor and crushing their central cores; black-bearded Tanvol and Danrall evaded that doom, but were hemmed in by the stone in all directions; so tight was the spacing between the columns that they could barely move, let alone escape to fight.
Phoenix was hammering at Dravan, and Miri was astounded to see that the huge, massive Light—one of the most formidable warriors in all Kaizatenzei—was utterly unable to do more than defend himself. He was being driven farther and farther back, closer to Miri and the bulwark of stone she had raised.
She has to know the truth, so she knows how to fight. “Phoenix! The Unity Guard—they’re actually Eternal Servants!”
A moment of disbelieving shock, just as abruptly transformed to revelation and understanding, burst across Phoenix’s face. Then her assault on Dravan redoubled, and suddenly the warrior’s big blade spun away into the air, rebounding from the corridor wall. Phoenix’s great sword Flamewing continued its arc, spun, and impaled Dravan Igo directly through the center of his chest, just above the breastline.
There was a faint splintering sound and a flash of light from the wound, and Dravan collapsed like a puppet with the strings cut . . . which was, Miri had to admit, essentially accurate.
Phoenix looked up to see the Unity Guards struggling within the stone cage and laughed. “Well, I came to save you, but you seem to have been doing fine on your own.”
Miri tried to restrain herself but failed; she embraced the other woman as tightly as she could (eliciting a fai
nt “oof!” sound) and then realized that she was still in her half-demonic form. “I . . . no, if you hadn’t gotten close enough I couldn’t have done anything. Not without . . . but we’re wasting time.”
“You’re right. Tobimar’s fighting Kalshae right now.”
“Light’s Mercy. How’s he even surviving?”
Despite her obvious worry over Tobimar, Phoenix grinned again. “Oh, you missed the best part. Where Tobimar, instead of Wieran and Kalshae, opened the Sun and called Terian himself down.”
Miri staggered to a halt, trying to process what the Phoenix had just said. “Terian? Tobimar opened the Sun? I . . . Phoenix, that makes no sense!”
“Oh, it makes perfect sense, which we can talk about later!”
She shook herself, and sprinted after the tall girl with the gold-touched blue hair streaming behind her. “The stone columns won’t hold Light Tanvol forever, I should warn you.”
“Doesn’t matter. If we’re all together I’ll bet on the five of us against any number of Unity Guards—Shades, Hues, Colors, or Lights.”
That depends on so very much, Miri thought, but she did not speak. There was, she realized, no point in it. Either they would win through, or they wouldn’t, but there wasn’t much point in ruining Phoenix’s confidence now.
Sound of scratching footsteps ahead, with a pearl-glowing ball providing illumination, and Phoenix grinned. “Hiriista! You made it!”
The magewright was battered, with blood trickling slowly from a dozen minor wounds, but seemed otherwise unharmed. “And I see you have succeeded in your mission.”
“I have. Though she helped free herself, too.”
“I would expect no less from Light Miri.” Hiriista had turned and matched their run instantly. “Now let us hope we are not too late to assist our friends above.”
But as they emerged into the Valatar Throneroom, Miri saw to her mounting joy that Tobimar was already running through the ruined (ruined? Great Light!) doors, Poplock clinging to his shoulder.
Then her heart suddenly went cold and she stopped, even as Kyri ran forward and embraced Tobimar in relief; she found herself staring at the floor, not daring to move. After a few moments, she heard Tobimar say uncertainly, “Um . . . Miri?”
She found it almost impossible to look up. “Kalshae . . . ?”
He also looked down. “I’m sorry. I tried to talk her out of it. I . . . almost succeeded, I think. But maybe I’m deluding myself. Anyway . . . I’m sorry.”
A huge aching wound was ripping open in her chest. For a moment Miri couldn’t understand what was happening. What attack is this? A spell? I sense nothing, I . . .
And then as a huge cry broke from her and her sight blurred to uselessness she understood. No! I . . . don’t cry . . . not over her! Miri fought, tried to contain the tears trickling down her face as she dropped to her knees. “I . . . c-c-can’t . . . stop!”
She heard a racking indrawn sob, recognized that it was her own, that the agony in her chest was tragedy and loss of someone who had been an ally and . . . at the end . . . more, but who couldn’t be saved. “I . . . I should have found a way . . . Shae and I were always together, but, but, she, I mean, you saw, she wanted to save me, but I . . . I . . .”
The tears kept interrupting and she had no idea what she was saying, or what she wanted to say or what she should say, only that it hurt and there was nothing she could do, nothing left to do, because somehow she did not doubt Tobimar Silverun; Kalshae was gone, Kalshae the strong, the confident, the loyal and dedicated, her right hand and best supporter, Kalshae was gone.
A hand touched her shoulder gently. Two hands, one on each side. “I’m sorry, I truly am,” Tobimar said gently. “I guessed that you two were . . . close. If I could have found another way—”
“We,” Poplock said from the floor in front of her. “Because it was really both of us. I was the one who swapped the summoning crystals. So . . . if we could have found another way . . .”
“No!” She forced herself to stand, furiously scrubbed the tears away. “No, you didn’t have a choice. If she stayed, if she was there for the ritual . . .” Now she saw the faint blue-white aura that surrounded the Skysand Prince, and felt the power, even more pure and clean than that of Myrionar, radiating from him, and the wonder helped dry her tears, at least for the moment. “. . . and if you gained that power, then no, there was no choice.”
“And we’re not done yet,” Poplock said. “There’s a big loose end running around.”
She felt a familiar cold anger returning, and grasped it gratefully, used it as an anchor and touchstone to drive away the grief for a little while. “Master Wieran.”
“I’m guessing he’s got another lab down there, one he didn’t show us, right?”
“Very right, Poplock. That is where he built most of the Guardsmen as well as the Eternal Servants, and where T’Terakhorwin is located, the Great Array which is the source of most of his power. If he escaped your battle—”
“—he did,” Tobimar said positively. “He disappeared during my fight with Kalshae.”
Miri nodded. “Then he’ll have gone to the Great Array. He’ll have sealed the doors and be preparing to destroy any that come to get him. Of course, he’ll also be hoping that Kalshae finished you off.”
“Well,” Kyri said, grim-faced, “let’s finish this.”
“Don’t let your guard down, guys,” said Poplock. “He’s going to have a lot to greet us with, or I’m just a dumb toad.”
Hiriista looked narrowly at Poplock. “What did you see?”
“That . . . device that Wieran had set up. It took in the power of the Sun of Infinity and filtered it, split it into light and dark. I guess if Tobimar hadn’t been there, it would’ve just disposed of the light stuff.”
“Yes,” Miri said, puzzled. “That was the whole purpose of the setup; our work in opening and stealing the power of the Stars had been, well, terribly inefficient. This was supposed to be much better, much more.”
“And,” Poplock said, “you know, I was watching that process, and what I saw was a huge pouring stream of power coming from the Sun . . . and two dinky little streams of power going out to Tobimar and Kalshae.”
She froze. The treacherous, backstabbing little—
And then she had to laugh. “Oh . . . oh, I am not used to these . . . these . . . flip-flopping emotional changes! But . . . we were all planning on when we could dispose of Wieran, deciding exactly when he would no longer be necessary . . . and it seems he had already decided on how to deal with us when we were no longer necessary!”
“Told you he was smarter than everyone here. He had them fund their own project, and designed his mechanism to steal most of the power for his own purposes rather than theirs.” Poplock nodded and then bounced back to Tobimar’s shoulder. “Still, guess we have no choice but to go after him.”
“None,” Hiriista said firmly. “Every moment we delay gives him more opportunities to prepare.”
Miri rose to her full (not very impressive) height. “Then follow me.”
Once more they entered the passage behind the Valatar Throne; once more Miri strode down the central passage and then began the descent down the three hundred forty-three steps. About halfway down, her steps slowed. I . . . have to tell them now. Before the battle begins.
“What is it, Miri?”
“Phoenix . . .”
“Kyri,” she said. At Miri’s inquiring look, she smiled. “That’s my real name. Kyri.”
Oh, Light. I hope she will stay so kind when she understands everything I’ve done . . . how much of a true monster I’ve been, and how many I’ve created. “Then . . . thank you, Kyri. But I have to tell you something.”
She took a deep breath. “Behind the doors . . . within the Great Array . . . are all the people we have taken from the cities over the past centuries. All of them.”
CHAPTER 48
“All of them?” Tobimar repeated incredulously. Poplock felt the same di
sbelief, but Miri’s expression was too deadly serious to really doubt.
“Well . . . a few have actually died. And a lot of them, the older ones, are probably close to death. But virtually all, yes.”
Hiriista gave a rasping hiss of anger. “All imprisoned in tubes, yes? As the vision of Zogan Josan implied!”
“Yes,” she whispered. “All held by Wieran in the Great Array, part of his grand experiment.”
“Balance,” muttered Kyri, and Poplock knew she’d seen it.
“Great,” Poplock said. “He’s got, what, hundreds of hostages, then. Plus whatever power and weapons he’s set up.”
Kyri looked at Miri and then touched her shoulder. “Miri.”
The young woman—the former demon, Poplock reminded himself—looked up forlornly.
“I know you’re thinking about how you helped all this to happen. And that you’ve lost someone precious to you. But right now, we need you to fight by our side. Don’t worry about the past. All right?”
It was amazing how the little speech brought the light back into Miri’s eyes. Poplock watched the delicate-looking girl straighten up and nod.
“All right, then. We know we will need everything now, so everyone get ready.”
Poplock pulled out a bottle and drank the contents down. Eeeeugh! I’ve gotta figure out how to make stuff that tastes as good as it works. But that’ll kick me up enough to run with these guys for a little, anyway. He saw Hiriista drink his own pick-me-up and invoke swirling somethings that then entered the mazakh’s body. The golden fire of Myrionar glowed brightly from Kyri, and the blue-white power that still shimmered around Tobimar intensified, echoing the fire burning in the Skysand Prince’s eyes.
“You all right, Tobimar?”
“I . . . don’t know. I’ve never felt like this, ever. Like I see everything, hear everything, can do anything. I’m burning up inside, but the fire’s rebuilding me, too.” The familiar voice was still touched with the sound of another.