Mythborn III: Dark Ascension (Fate of the Sovereign Book 3)

by V. Lakshman

  To Bernal’s surprise the warrior who’d delivered that thrust screamed, his body held in a rictus by some invisible force. In moments he was torn apart, blood splashing the steps of the pyramid and running over Bernal’s boots. He looked back to the massive figure of Mithras rising, the Aeris lord’s knee reknitting before his eyes.

  “Do not help me with these vermin, beloved,” the giant figure of Mithras said to no one that Bernal could see.

  The blade jumped up again at Bernal’s neck, but Kalindor was there with his spear. He too had faced an Aeris lord with his queen and did not underestimate their foe. His spear twisted in a circular loop before stabbing out over his head, forcing Mithras to raise his sword arm to defend himself, cutting short his riposte at Bernal.

  Yevaine danced in with Falken, stabbing at the giant Aeris lord’s leg. Her blade went cleanly through, spraying out a fresh gout of blood. She pulled and sliced, her blade sparking off his greaves as she was caught with a backhand that sent her sailing up the steps to land in a heap. She sat up groggily, and Bernal hoped it was a sign the blow had not hit anything vital.

  He looked up as he ducked under another blade slash and saw Malak and Sparrow had gained the gate, surrounded by twenty or so of their men. So few! He rushed forward again, stabbing once and then turning that stab into a slash aimed at Mithras’s neck.

  The Aeris lord had real skill, Bernal had to concede. Rather than falling back he pivoted in the same direction as the slash, then deflected it upward and cut down at the king’s leg.

  Bernal, out of position, knew he wouldn’t get the shield there in time. Then Kalindor’s spear hit the giant Aeris lord’s helm. The strike, meant to separate Bernal’s leg from his body, instead cracked another stone step, sending rock shards flying.

  The blue light emanating from the gate at the top turned blood red, bathing the cavern in a crimson glow. Bernal looked up and saw the gate itself had changed. Rather than sourceless light, it now resembled a living wall of blood. Sparrow jumped through, her body causing ripples in the surface with her passing.

  At that, Mithras’s voice boomed, “Fall back! It is done!”

  Be happy my lord spared you . . . said a female voice Bernal didn’t recognize. He spun, looking around for her, but belatedly realized he hadn’t heard it with his ears, rather inside his mind.

  When he turned his attention back to the battle, to his surprise the forces of Mithras were melting down into the rock! They disappeared through the cracks, fading from view. He looked up in confusion, only to be greeted by the Aeris lord smiling from beneath his radiant helm.

  “Be not foolish enough to celebrate this moment. You’ve done everything the Lady has wanted. We thank you, Galadine. When we meet again you’ll dance with Tempest, before I cut in.” He laughed, then also sank down into the stone just as both Kalindor and Yevaine’s weapons struck the empty air where he’d just been.

  “What’s going on? Why would he retreat now?” demanded Bernal.

  Kalindor shook his head but pointed up at the gate, “Let’s get up there and refortify. If they come back we’ll need to hold that gate.”

  Bernal nodded and then the three jogged quickly up the steps. The sight that greeted him at the top stunned him speechless. Malak knelt in a widening pool of dark blood. His throat had been cut and his blood flowed directly to the base of the gate, feeding it.

  A scout moved forward and looked at Bernal, “We can only keep the gate open for as long as our blood lasts. Hopefully Sparrow will have the highlord align the other end ’ere that happens.”

  Bernal looked at these elves, realizing the true depth of their sacrifice. If what this elf said was true, Malak was only the first. They would each in turn do what their firstmark had done to keep this side of the gate aligned. It meant they had all come here expecting to die, on the chance that they could save their people.

  Yevaine put a gentle hand in his and said, “We stand with you. Is there nothing more we can do?”

  “Pray for Sparrow’s speedy return. As our firstmark said, all we love and hope to save depends upon it.”

  “Nay,” said Bernal softly. “If Sparrow doesn’t return before another of you must be sacrificed, I will go through the gate and speak with the highlord myself.” His gaze was resolute as he turned to Yevaine and said, “After all, we’re family.”

  Revelation

  To see a cup fill to its fullest with scorn and hatred,

  tell a young mother her child means nothing.

  - Toorval Singh, Memoirs of a Mercenary

  K

  isan dove with the accuracy of a direhawk after prey. She couldn’t change the laws of falling bodies, but Ash’s flailing made him catch more air, slowing him. She was, on the other hand, tucked into a slim form like a plummeting falcon, and catching up. The question was, would she get there in time to save him or only to mark the spot where he died?

  As she neared she yelled, “Spread out!”

  She couldn’t tell if the firstmark heard her, but after a moment the man responded, becoming an X that caught more air. That his discipline overcame his fear impressed her more than a little.

  A few beats later she was within a hand’s grasp. Below, she could now make out individual plants and flowers, which meant the ground was approaching fast. Not good, she thought. She focused, reaching out.

  Her fingers just scraped his boot. At that touch, he pushed his leg up and she grabbed his ankle with both hands and spread her wings. They popped open with such force Kisan thought they’d be ripped off. Every muscle in her body strained to hold onto Ash, but her tactic had the desired effect. The sudden braking made their impact with the roots at the bottom of Avalyon bone-jarring, but not lethal. They fell in a tangled heap before coming to rest with Kisan on top of the firstmark. She sat up, taking stock of their surroundings, but didn’t get off Ash’s spread-eagled form.

  “That’s three times, Firstmark. How are you ever going to repay me for such consistent service?” She smiled, her eyes narrowing at the tease.

  “I’ll have to owe you,” gasped the man miserably. He let out a long breath. For a moment she thought he might fall asleep there, but his eyes suddenly widened and he pushed her off and rolled quickly just as a body impacted the ground where they’d been. It was one of the winged elves whom Kisan had killed with her blade during her hurtling descent.

  “Kind of him to return my weapon,” she commented. The sound of branches breaking revealed the other dead elf, caught in the canopy above.

  “How are we going to get up there?” asked Ash with trepidation.

  “Easy, Firstmark,” replied Kisan, looking up, “I’ll retrieve it.”

  To her surprise, however, the mere thought of her blade sent it flying back to her. She caught and sheathed it deftly, then looked at Ash with a smile. “I’m liking this place more and more.”

  “That makes one of us,” Ash replied. “Now what?”

  Kisan breathed out then said, “The only way up is to fly. I don’t know if I can do that from here and carry you.”

  Before Kisan could say more Ash hurriedly said, “Great, let’s try and climb a bit.”

  Kisan arched an eyebrow and changed form back to her normal appearance. “It’s a long way up.”

  The ground was solid and neither of them could see the sky below. It was clear the trees grew from this central spot like a giant root. Dozens of openings to tunnels leading upward were evident, the question was which would lead to a landing that she could fly from?

  Ash had already started to move, likely choosing a tunnel at random. Kisan smiled at the firstmark’s fear, but didn’t comment. She wasn’t sure why but she found his weakness endearing, perhaps because he didn’t seem to think any less of himself. So, rather than point out an obvious choice that led to a landing only short distance up, she did what she rarely ever did, and followed the firstmark quietly.

  “With that blasted Tempest gone,” he said, looking over his shoulder, “the world doesn�
�t seem to hate me.”

  True enough, no roots snagged him as he sprang from spot to spot, unencumbered by anything except the limits of his own endurance. Kisan wasn’t sure why the city would care, since the blade had been killing Aeris, but it was likely Tempest had been indiscriminate in her violence, leaving behind enemies on all sides. Kisan was happy it was gone. One less crazy personality to worry about.

  “Did you see that?” Ash asked.

  She looked around. “What?”

  The firstmark gestured to an area far to their left, another giant trunk system that seemed to make up the majority of the base of Avalyon. “There,” he said, pointing and crouching.

  Kisan crouched and peered in the direction he’d indicated. At first she saw nothing.

  She looked back at Ash, about to say something, when he said, “It’s crazy but I thought I saw a blackness spreading amongst the roots.”

  “Spreading?”

  Ash looked at her and nodded. “Yeah, like some kind of discoloration . . .”

  Kisan was unable to see it, but in this gloom that was hardly surprising. A century of Furies could be marching through here and they would be hard to see. She looked back at the firstmark, “Probably some kind of root feeding system. Let’s keep moving.”

  The firstmark’s eyes didn’t leave the spot he was looking at, but after a moment he gave her a hesitant nod and they continued their way to an opening into the tunnels.

  Soon they were deep in an internal tunnel that wound its way upward. They had not gone far when another explosion sounded, and from the groundshake it was not far away. The tunnel buckled but didn’t collapse, sending bits of leaves and bark down like green and brown snow.

  “What was that?” Ash asked no one in particular.

  Kisan peered out of a tunnel “window,” nothing more than a round hole in the root, and saw a ball of fire billowing out, then rising like a balloon made entirely of flame. Her eyes narrowed. Shapes moved quickly up the root system . . . winged shapes—Aeris!

  “We have Aeris infiltrating Avalyon.” She unraveled their situation and stated the obvious.

  “Lilyth is attacking.”

  “What?” exclaimed Ash. “Why would she do that?”

  Kisan moved past him and said over her shoulder, “Because she can. Duncan coming here fixed a way to Avalyon, and with us as a distraction, she’s taking Valarius out of the equation.”

  Lilyth wouldn’t hesitate to wipe out the elves and Valarius, but what about them? The only question now was if her Furies were here to slay just elves, or everyone. Kisan never bet on someone else’s magnanimity and wasn’t taking any chances. The demon queen was turning out to be quite merciless, a quality that despite their dire circumstances, she admired.

  She grabbed the firstmark’s arm. “We’ve got to get up higher, but quietly. We can’t trust the Furies, and between this and that blackness you saw, I doubt anything is on our side.”

  Ash nodded, drawing his new blade.

  More Aeris boiled out of the tunnels. Kisan watched as they set charges, small disks attached to bottles of liquid, and detonated them. Fire burst out at each, then rushed upward and into the canopy.

  Explosions continued to shake the corridor as the firstmark looked around nervously then pointed up. “There. The tunnel forks. Let’s push upward until we find an open area.”

  Kisan moved quickly, only looking over her shoulder now and again to make sure the firstmark didn’t fall too far behind. Normally her pragmatism would have bade her to leave the man behind now that he was safe and uninjured. But a part of her, the same that found his plight endearing, kept a measured pace. She found herself enjoying the firstmark’s company.

  “Hurry up,” she said over her shoulder, but there was no edge in her voice.

  “Don’t have to wait for . . . ,” Ash huffed as he negotiated his way past exposed roots and entangling vines.

  “You sound like a girl when you scream, Firstmark,” she teased.

  “One of my more . . .”—he gulped air—“endearing traits.”

  Kisan let out a short bark of laughter at that.

  “I’m”—another gulp—“starting to think you like me, Master Adept,” the firstmark teased.

  Before she could answer, they exited the tunnel and entered a wide hall with six tunnels leading out. Kisan looked around, then at Ash. The firstmark had regained his wind and shrugged, saying, “I don’t care. Pick one.”

  Kisan began to turn when the scene slowed and then came to a halt, as if time itself had stopped. From this still point a woman appeared. She was dressed in a familiar white robe, the same Kisan had seen when this woman appeared to them after their encounter with Duncan. The adept fell back, looking for any others, but Sonya’s voice drew her back.

  “Pay attention, adept! I do not count you as ally, but dire need makes for strange bedfellows.”

  “How is this happening?” Kisan asked.

  “Nothing has happened. I speak to you between the eye blinks of time. When I’m gone all will be as it was.”

  Kisan nodded. “What do you want?”

  “You sought to kill my son. Is this still your mission?”

  “Those orders were rescinded.”

  “You understand that killing him here will destroy Arcadia? If Arcadia falls, so too does Edyn.”

  “I do,” Kisan replied. “My only goal now is to get Arek out of here.”

  Sonya looked at her, her gaze measuring the truth of Kisan’s words. Then she said, “Take the Binding Oath then, that you will not cause harm to my son.”

  “I won’t,” replied Kisan icily, “and you know it.” She paused then said, “You act as though your hands are not bloody, that you’re beyond reproach.”

  “You dare—!”

  “I’ll dare anything and anyone!” Kisan paused, then said sadly, “I used to worship you, but now I see a desperate woman who has sacrificed herself, and for what? To bring ruin to our world for the sake of one boy?”

  She moved closer. “What is it, Sonya? What drives you to put the life of Arek ahead of the tens of thousands of children who have lost their families to magehunters, or simply gone missing since the Demon Wars ended? Do you know their fate?”

  Sonya looked down, not answering, and Kisan’s eyes widened. “You know, don’t you? They’re here, held by Lilyth? Or Valarius. Or both! What have you become?” she spat.

  “I’m the reflection of what this world and Duncan made me, nothing more or less,” Sonya said. “You cannot know what it’s like to lose your own child.”

  “Can’t I?” Kisan said, tears welling up despite herself. “I know what it’s like to lose an entire family, and a boy as close to me as a son.” Kisan stepped back waiting for the lore mother to say something, but Sonya seemed to fall in upon herself.

  Finally, Kisan said, “I’ll do whatever I think is needed; that’s the only promise I’ll make. At least you know where we stand.” She began to move forward but Sonya raised a hand, but she looked like she was taking care not to touch Kisan.

  “Valarius will seek to possess Arek, using his body to leave this realm. You cannot let this happen.”

  Kisan stopped, her mind racing. “Why can’t he leave? The war with the Aeris?”

  Sonya looked down, grief etching her features. “His greatest secret, his most guarded lie . . .

  “Valarius was once like you, before being cast from Edyn. Now this world has changed him, morphed him into the being his people worship, an elven highlord. Yet, this not the end of his sad tale, for he is also in some ways . . . Aeris.”

  Kisan’s eyes widened at this, but suddenly this too seemed obvious.

  Then Sonya said, “He cannot leave without a body. Arek was created for that purpose. When I found out, I sent my son to Edyn to safeguard him. Now, with his return, the fate of both our worlds hangs in the balance.”

  Kisan looked at Sonya, no longer astonished by the revelation. She shook her head and asked, “What happens if Valarius
possesses Arek?”

  “What do you mean? He feels betrayed by Edyn and will bring her people to judgment for that betrayal. You will see the hand of retribution fall upon thousands if not millions of innocents. He cannot be allowed to leave this world.”

  “But it will mean the death of Arek,” said Kisan, still thinking through what Sonya had just said.

  “You’re not listening,” exclaimed Sonya. “If my son is possessed, whatever was Arek will be gone, but his body would live on, controlled by Valarius. The blackfire will not be released, and Valarius gains a way to leave Arcadia. Imagine the ruin he will mete out upon those who banished him.” The lore mother shook her head, “I don’t know why I came to you. You’re nothing but an obtuse weapon and will allow Valarius to become mortal again, wreaking his havoc upon your world.”

  Mortal? And there it is, the answer to our problem. Her eyes narrowed and she looked up over her shoulder past the chamber’s roof, as if she could see the dizzying heights of Avalyon above. Valarius would become mortal if he possessed Arek. Her thoughts tapered to a fine edge with crystalline acuity. The boy’s dangerous contagion would be rendered ineffective because his body still would live. No doubt Valarius thought of it as some kind of insurance, a deterrent against killing him here in Arcadia. But they had not counted on Kisan and her willingness to do what was needed. If Valarius were subsequently killed or trapped here in Arcadia the contagion would be released but more than just Arek and Valarius would die. The contagion would wipe out Lilyth and her forces too. Kisan knew they’d eventually face Sovereign on Edyn’s soil. The attack on their Isle had cemented that as reality into her head, but if she could take both Lilyth and Valarius out of the picture . . .

  She smiled and looked back at the lore mother, who for her part appeared exasperated.

  “Promise me you’ll save my son and I’ll lead you to the top by the quickest path,” demanded Sonya.

  Kisan tilted her head and said simply, “No.”

  She lashed out, her fingers in a blur as they touched the lore mother’s form. The shade only had time for a sudden scream before Kisan’s touch dissipated her. The adept smiled as time returned to its normal flow.