by Lucy Hounsom
Medavle looked at her and his dark eyes were sober. ‘I am sorry that you have endured so much because of me.’ He held out an arm towards Kierik. ‘But today, at last, I can give you your Inheritance.’
31
Kyndra’s ears rang. She blinked against the rough stone, stunned by the force of the sudden blast that had flung her across the plateau. Hoisting herself onto all fours, she looked over her shoulder. The small hole leading to the tunnel was gone and the stone was rent asunder – now light poured into the mountain through a jagged gash and debris littered the area.
Medavle climbed to his feet, his face scraped and bloody, clutching the silver flute tightly to his chest. Kyndra stood up too. Dust hung thickly and sounds of coughing reached her through the haze. When it cleared, she saw that the others were unharmed, if a little bruised. Anohin’s bonds were gone, but he made no move towards Medavle. Instead he frantically searched the small plateau for Kierik. Kyndra spotted the madman first, flat on his back, thrown mercifully away from the edge of the cliff.
Loricus stepped out of the rubble, shimmering with Solar energy. His robe was torn at the shoulders and his tattoo gleamed in the dim morning. The sun had not yet cleared the mountain behind them and Naris cast its huge shadow over the plateau.
The councilman gestured and six Wielders emerged to join him. Kyndra’s heart clenched when she saw that two of them held Brégenne prisoner.
‘You. Keep hold of her,’ Loricus instructed one gold-robed man. His eyes raked the small plateau. ‘The rest of you restrain the Solars.’
As the Wielders fanned out around Nediah and Kait, Kyndra saw both of them blaze defensively gold.
‘Who are you?’ Loricus asked Medavle. His eyes skimmed Medavle’s wound and then flicked to Anohin. ‘Not friends, I see.’
Medavle’s face darkened. ‘I have not come this far to be stopped by the likes of you.’
‘I care nothing for how far you’ve come,’ Loricus said. ‘I only want the girl.’
Kyndra took a step back and the councilman smiled at her. ‘You’ve led us on quite a chase.’ His hazel eyes flicked to the chasm. ‘But there’s nowhere left to run, Kyndra.’
In the next moment, a shrieking ball of light hurtled at Loricus. The councilman disappeared in its fury, robbed of even a scream, and Anohin’s hands dripped with flame. He panted in the aftermath of the fireball, and the glow around him faded.
For a moment there was silence. Then a tremor rocked the plateau and Loricus stepped from the fire unmarked. He snuffed its flames between finger and thumb and turned a contemptuous gaze upon Anohin. Almost lazily, he lifted a hand and flung the Yadin against the side of the mountain. Bone splintered.
‘Anohin!’ Medavle screamed. Anohin lay nearby in a crumpled heap, stirring feebly as blood trickled down his face and into his eyes.
Loricus looked on without interest. ‘I thought I might have saved you the trouble of killing him,’ he commented to Medavle.
The dark-eyed Yadin clenched his teeth. ‘Pitiful man, you know nothing of me.’
‘I know enough,’ Loricus said, unsmiling now. He looked at Kyndra. ‘Are you content to let your friends take my blows?’
Another battle was unfolding near the blasted tunnel, Kyndra saw, as Kait and Nediah fought the Wielders sent to subdue them. Energy crackled over the combatants’ heads and the mêlée was almost too fast to follow. Kait held a flaming rapier in each hand. Her lips curled in savage concentration and her brown hair whirled across her face, as she parried and dodged.
Two of her opponents also bore weapons. The remaining three crooked their fingers and attacked with blasts of energy. Kait’s blades stopped these as effectively as they stopped the wide sweep of the flaming broadsword, and the Wielder who held it stepped back for another swing.
As Kyndra looked on, a scorching trio of bolts roared towards Kait from the left, the sword swung in from the right and a glowing web snared her feet. Kait staggered and fell into the path of the sword.
An inch from Kait’s nose, the blade stopped and the bolts burst into sparks. Beyond Kait, who strove to break the net around her legs, Kyndra saw Nediah, fingertips pressed against a burnished shield that he was struggling to maintain. It reached over both their heads and down to the ground behind. Kait’s bonds dissipated and she stood, but neither could do anything further inside the shield. As the Wielders turned their attacks upon the shining dome, Nediah’s face grew more strained. They wouldn’t last, Kyndra realized. Nediah’s talents lay in healing, not in offence, which left Kait against the five Solars. No matter how fast she was, one of them would eventually break through her guard.
Something tugged at Kyndra’s ankles and, tearing her eyes from the battle, she looked down. A golden serpent tightened its coils around her legs, sliding inexorably upwards. She jerked and cried out in disgust, but the snake hissed and constricted, binding her legs together.
‘A nice touch,’ Loricus said.
Janus stood several yards away, a miniature version coiled in his palm. Each tiny scale pulsed with Solar energy. Tasting the air, the snake now writhed around her hips and Kyndra tensed, breathing shallowly.
‘Keep still,’Janus said. Dirt smeared his robe, his hair hung in listless knots and there was a grey cast to his skin, as if from exhaustion. ‘Why did you not just use the akan?’ he asked her regretfully. ‘This need never have happened.’
‘Please, Janus,’ Kyndra said, moving her lips as little as possible. The serpent pinned both arms now, heavy coils sliding up her chest. She couldn’t repress a shudder. Why had she let her guard down?
Loricus stood behind the young man, watching intently. A possessive smile darkened his lips.
‘Janus,’ Kyndra tried. ‘The akan was a trap. Whatever Loricus has told you, it’s not true. It’s him – he meant to kill me.’
Janus’ fixed expression wavered, and for an instant she glimpsed someone very young looking out at her, confused and frightened. She saw horror there and a terrible, twisted desire to be of value, but then his face hardened and those emotions disappeared. Kyndra’s heart pounded sickly: Jhren had worn a similar expression when he’d told her he was marrying Colta.
‘The snake will bite if she feels you move,’ Janus said hollowly. ‘Her poison is very potent. It will be a quick end, if you choose it.’ He stepped back to join Loricus and Kyndra felt a dreadful hopelessness.
‘You will not find me as merciful,’ Loricus told her. ‘You are going to die, Vale, one way or another. You cannot say I haven’t been fair. I gave you a chance to stand with me.’
‘Only after trying to kill me,’ Kyndra said, her voice roughened by fear. Janus’ snake continued its sinuous advance up her body. ‘How is that fair?’
‘I believe I have been over-generous,’ Loricus said, his eyes darkening. ‘Not only do you threaten everything I have worked towards, but you also pose a greater threat to the rest of Mariar.’
‘What are you talking about?’
Loricus cast a contemptuous look at Anohin. ‘I have known the truth for some time, but it changes nothing. The Nerian can sing the madman’s praises while he rots in the Deep. I have no desire to harm him. In fact, I applaud his achievement. Acre was a world full of unpredictable elements and conflicting powers vying for control. Mariar, however, is – as you so like to put it – a place of peace.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘And Naris can rule a peaceful land unchallenged.’
‘Solinaris – was not – supposed to rule,’Anohin gasped, one bloodied hand outstretched as he hauled himself towards them across the rock. ‘Kierik’s Mariar is a free land.’
‘Kierik’s Mariar?’ Loricus raised an eyebrow. ‘That does not sound like a free land to me. The Starborn may have cloaked his desire for power in platitudes of peace, but he intended to rule from the outset. I am merely finishing what he began. And to do that –’ he looked back at Kyndra – ‘I must first eliminate you.’
‘Why?’ Kyndra asked desperately. ‘You said I might not ever b
e a true Starborn, so what harm can I do you or anyone?’
Loricus’ gaze sharpened. ‘If you ever inherit – a great deal. Only another Starborn has the ability to reunite this land with Acre.’
All Kyndra could do was stare at him, wondering if she had heard correctly.
Loricus circled her. ‘Yes, as long as Kierik is alive, you pose little threat. But why take the chance? As soon as you inherit, you will be beyond my control. If you won’t swear a Wielder’s Oath and join me, how can I – in good conscience – leave you to roam free, knowing full well what you are capable of?’
‘You believe I can bring Acre back?’ Kyndra hadn’t even thought it was possible, let alone that she could do such a thing.
‘Enough talk.’ Loricus returned to stand in front of her. ‘You have one choice left to make. Accept Janus’ offer of a quick death and I will allow it.’ A glowing ball, golden this time, surged between his hands. Then the feared sleek head emerged and claws dug at the air. Kyndra stared at the new executis and felt an echo of pain in her wrist.
‘You think this one will act as Helira’s did?’ Loricus grimaced as his creation struggled to free itself. ‘But she, too, wanted to grant you a quick end. I, however, am interested in seeing just how resilient a Starborn’s body is on the inside.’ He held out the writhing bundle of claws. ‘The executis may seem in a hurry, but it will tunnel a slow path through your organs if I command it to.’
Frozen by the squeezing snake, Kyndra stared at the creature, terrified of feeling that agony again. Its golden light fell on Janus’ cheek and he turned his face away. Kyndra tried to think of a plan, a distraction, anything that might give her a chance to escape the snake.
‘Remember, girl. One little move.’ Loricus paused, his gaze roving over her face. ‘But that would disappoint me.’
Kyndra flicked her eyes, the only things she could safely shift, to Medavle. The Yadin was staring intensely at Loricus, as if he, too, searched for an answer. Anohin was still trying to crawl over the rock, his blood-rimmed eyes now fixed on a point to Kyndra’s right, away from the others. A moan issued from his throat, rising to a horrified wail.
‘Things could have been different between us, Kyndra Vale,’ Loricus said. ‘I am sorry they are not.’
A vortex of silence ripped across the plateau and Anohin’s mouth opened wider, as he screamed soundlessly. Without thinking, Kyndra turned, and the snake bit her.
She howled at the sharp puncture, feeling the venom pump unstoppably into her body. She tried to wriggle free from the coils that bound her arms and legs, but they wouldn’t budge. The beast had become a dead weight, its Solar energy spent. Kyndra blinked at the scene before her, but a mist clung to her eyes and she couldn’t seem to catch her breath.
Forgotten amidst the separate battles, Kierik stood, one hand outstretched. The white akan blazed on his palm.
‘No,’Anohin moaned and tore his fingers on the sharp rock, striving to reach Kierik, who stood mesmerized by the statue’s unfolding wings. The silent pressure in the air increased and, like an omen of doom, Kierik’s gaze fell on Loricus.
The statue of the child leapt from his fingers, its eyes opening as its feathered wings expanded. In that moment, Loricus seemed to recognize it, for he stumbled back, face drained of colour, and set free the executis. But the child’s mouth stretched wide and its fat, white lips sucked the creature inside with a wail. Loricus staggered and backed away further, furiously tearing a pendant from his neck. He hurled it into the akan’s path and a wall of flame roared up. There were faces in the fire, screaming and tortuous, and when the bulbous child neared them, they cried at it with one deathly voice. Again, the akan did not slow, but shook its now vast wings and the flames shrank beneath their wind. The child passed through the fire and though it shuddered violently, it came on.
Kyndra’s chest tightened and she could feel the irregular beats of her heart, as it began to fail. Her blood carried the venom around her body and a hot, panicked despair rushed with it. She didn’t want to die, not here on this wasted cliff.
The attacks on Nediah’s shield diminished, as the five Wielders turned to watch the akan. One of the older men made to join Loricus, but the woman beside him seized his arm. Naked terror moistened her eyes.
The child was now so huge that its wings screened the sky. One of them knocked Janus aside. The young man shrieked, as if his skin were aflame, and began tearing at it, leaving dreadful gashes down his cheeks, neck and arms.
Loricus paid him no heed, his fury changing to panic. He turned his face towards Kyndra and desperation made it grotesque. Hazel eyes took in the dead snake and he smiled wildly before falling to his knees. His arms lurched up over his head, as if pulled by a great force and he screamed as his shoulders dislocated. The scream went on and on while a golden mist rose from his skin. The white akan beat its wings, stripping the energy from the councilman. Kyndra wished it would stop.
Finally, the tattoo on Loricus’ back fractured and bled and the blood ran down over his shoulders and chest to soak into the silken robes. When every shred of power had left him, the child wrapped both wings around the kneeling man. Only then did the tortured screams die. His skin blackened and cracked, flesh sliding from bone like overcooked meat. A stench clogged Kyndra’s nostrils and filled her spinning head with death.
When it was done and nothing remained of the man, the akan spun with one sweep of its wings. They were stained black now and glittered golden at their tips. Shrinking, it returned to Kierik.
‘No!’Anohin screamed, still too far from his master. As the child reached Kierik, Medavle threw out a hand, fear heating his dark eyes. Whitish filaments crawled from the Starborn’s nose and Kierik clutched his head, his cries a mirror of Anohin’s. Kyndra’s legs finally crumpled and she sank to her knees, still wrapped in the snake.
The child fluttered in front of Kierik, tiny once more. For one long, agonizing moment, Kierik stared at it and then his head sagged and the white akan fell at his feet.
All sound ceased. Kierik’s chin sat on his chest. Then a fan of light burst from his shoulders, as if someone had thrown up a handful of stars. Each speck shone with cold brilliance. They formed, broke, reformed and separated in an ageless dance. It was a beautiful, terrible sequence. The summer air turned cold and a sharp scent rent the wind. The stars hung momentarily around Kierik, making him part of their constellation. Then they began to flow away from him in earnest, spinning and dancing until the sky took them back.
Released, Kierik fell to his knees and tears appeared on his cheeks. He touched them, peering at the salty moisture that silvered his fingers. He raised his head, eyes clear and unguarded, and looked at Kyndra.
Kyndra gasped as a force slammed into her back. Clarity shredded the poison’s fog, as ice splintered through her body and razed the snake’s venom from her blood.
Behind her closed eyelids, countless suns exploded into being, scattering their light across infinity. The wind was a thousand voices, lifting her, filling her hands and head. Constellations rolled beneath her feet. They hammered her with names and it was as if they had known her all her life. Among them was Sigel, massive and incandescent, and around it spun its errant siblings, Wynn and Lagus. Isa showed her how to bridge the void, and Yeras how to claim it. Mysterious Pyrth acknowledged her from its dark corner of the sky, and she shuddered at Hagal’s demonic regard.
She glimpsed a vast imagination and recoiled at the awful power they told her was theirs. They showed her the void and the dark reaches where there was no life, but a frozen and timeless waste. Crossing it would change her, but to be one with the stars was to dwell where they dwelled, and they burned in isolation. A strange pain grew in her heart, which she knew a moment later as sadness. They did not understand tears or laughter, love or sympathy. They would share with her only what they could: the third and greatest power of the cosmos, a power which in the end would destroy her.
‘Why,’ she cried, ‘why me?’
What would satisfy you as an answer?
Pain lanced from the force that bent her, as if a fine knife scored fire across her back. It climbed up her neck, cutting her scalp and forehead. It flowed beneath her eyes, down both cheeks and over her breasts until it covered her whole body. The pattern pulsed in her skin and she knew it for a map, a constellatory route she could follow home.
No, she thought, you are not my home.
She felt something from them – in a human, it might have been humour. As swiftly as it had come, the force left her and Kyndra straightened. Flexing her fingers, she reached up and wrenched the snake’s fangs from her neck. The coils loosened and the dead serpent collapsed into ash.
Her face stung. She raised a hand to her cheek and followed the curving scars, unwilling to see what damage they had wrought. She remembered the black chasms that made a horror of Kierik’s face.
The touch of the stars had emptied her, hollowed her out like a fruit divested of its pulp. It made the terror of the executis a distant memory. Kyndra looked at the sooty pile that minutes ago had been a living man and felt nothing. Janus lay where the akan’s wing had knocked him, face down on the rock. She couldn’t tell whether he lived.
Kyndra stared at Kierik. His face was unmarked now, and the straggling beard that hung over his chin and the long, tangled hair gave him the look of a vagrant. His eyes, a blue that was almost black, regarded her clearly for the first time. My eyes, she thought.
The wind swept the plateau, laid claim to the councilman’s ashes and bore them away.
‘You remind me of her,’ Kierik whispered. He crumpled. Finally at his side, Anohin caught him and clasped his friend to his chest. They crouched on the rock and Anohin’s blood smeared Kierik’s skin. ‘Hini,’ Kierik acknowledged, his eyes beginning to glaze. Anohin sobbed and clutched him tighter, as if his grip alone held death at bay.
‘You have … what you wanted,’ Kierik breathed and Kyndra realized he was speaking to Medavle.