The signs of torture were too numerous to count. There was not an inch of exposed flesh that did not bear some manner of scar, gash, or burn. The skin hung from withered, emaciated arms and legs. He was breathing, but only just, with the breaths drifting painfully in amid a quiet, painful wheeze. Ether had already leapt to the spire and was easily cleaving the stone with her rocky claws. In moments, his feet were free. His weakened form was draped over her shoulder as the last of the stone was carefully chipped from around his hands. She leapt from the spire and lowered him to the ground. Instantly, Ivy and Myranda ran to his side.
"Do your work quickly. We need to leave this place," Ether said, eying the crystals shining above them with suspicion. One with a bluer tint prompted a more prolonged stare.
"Is he all right? Is he going to be all right?" Ivy asked desperately, amid a flare of blue.
"Just be calm. I will do my best," Myranda said, looking with concern at the tremendous task ahead of her.
Lain was more dead than alive. The fact that he had been freed was only now registering in his savaged mind. Eyes veiled in a gray haze attempted to focus on the blurry form bending over him, but to no avail. His ears, however, were still healthy, and he recognized the voices. Thoughts were moving slowly and vaguely through his usually razor-sharp mind. He could feel magic at work on him. Wounds were closing. Fog was lifting. As a hint of clarity returned to him, a single, burning thought brushed the others aside. He tried to shift his eyes to the exit, a ragged breath fighting its way into his tattered lungs.
"Go . . ." he croaked.
"We've come to save you, Lain, we won't leave without you," Myranda replied.
Lain struggled and gulped down another breath of the acrid air.
"R . . . Run!" he ordered, fingers closing about Myranda's cloak.
As if in reaction to his cry, there came a metallic sliding from the opening and a renewed clawing from Myn. The bars that had lined the walls were slithering into place, nearly strangling Myn until she managed to pull her head free. Before Myranda could raise her staff to offer the slightest counterspell, one of the long metal tendrils lashed out, knocking the weapon from her hand and wrapping around her, and drawing her back against the wall. A second and third bar pursued the others. One caught Ivy about the leg. The other twined about Ether, but a moment later, it was writhing uselessly about in the air she had become.
The shapeshifter burst toward the blue gleam above just in time to see it dislodge itself and launch through her, revealing itself to be the accursed halberd they'd faced so many times before. The crystal tore at her as it passed through, but Ether shrugged off the pain and chased after it. It was too late. The weapon had thrust itself into Lain's hand. Instantly, a terrible and all too familiar look of cold intellect came to his face.
Ether tried to attack, but Epidime willed Lain's lightning reflexes to the task and deflected every attempt. Ether's airy form was ill-equipped to defend against the assault. Before long, she had to pull back and regroup. The usurped Lain surveyed his surroundings. The living metal bar wrapped tightly about Myranda was on the verge of crushing her. What little concentration she could manage was entirely dedicated to holding off its grip. Ivy was fighting both the tendrils that gripped her body and the fear that gripped her mind valiantly, but with a metal bar coiled about each limb, she was beginning to tire. Myn stood just out of the range of the flailing metal bars and watched helplessly from the tunnel.
"I must say, I was beginning to grow weary of waiting. I've always prided myself on my patience, but once I'd weakened this assassin's surprisingly firm mind, I had very little worth doing while I awaited your arrival," he remarked. "Not that this little encounter is what I would call worthwhile. It is a victory, to be sure, but you will be pleased to know I consider it to be a hollow one. You were defeated not by the D'karon, but by the rules of the game. Worthy opponents such as yourselves deserve better. That said, I am not so foolish as to allow you to survive."
With that, he swung his halberd to speed and leveled it at Myranda's throat. There was a deafening clang and a spray of sparks. Ether had swept in and assumed her stone form, her arm held defensively.
"Well," Epidime said. "You've gotten a bit faster at that. I rather thought that you might be the greatest challenge."
The possessed form of Lain stepped quickly back and twirled the weapon in a sequence of wide loops, building speed as it went. Soon, the tip was fairly hissing through the air. Ether stalked toward him. With carefully calculated timing, Epidime directed an attack at the shapeshifter. A clang of steel echoed off of the walls as a blow powerful enough to chip away at Ether's stony form met its mark. She recovered quickly and continued to move toward him.
As the weapon clashed again and again, Ivy watched, her mind ablaze as she fought the metal grip
She felt fear, anger, desperation, hatred. None of them would do. Anger would bring pain, and possibly death. Hatred . . . no, never again. Fear took the place of the other emotions, but this too was no good to her, and she did her best to bury it down. There was only one thing that could help her now. She knew what she needed to do, but she didn't know how. It had happened once before, if only she could remember . . .
Expert timing and inhuman speed landed countless attacks on Ether without so much as a single blow being returned. Her rocky form was striped with cracks and lacerations, and the repeated strikes with the crystal had reduced her strength to nearly nothing. The shapeshifter needed relief, needed to escape, but she knew that any other form would be instantly struck down--or, worse, would squander the last of her energy and leave her a helpless, drifting mind once more.
Epidime sensed this, raising the intensity of his attacks. When victory seemed certain, he began to highlight his attacks with mocking taunts.
"Remarkable creatures, these malthropes. I've seldom encountered such boundless stamina. And after days of starvation and torture, as well. Truly a wonder, and truly a shame that very shortly they shall be extinct," Epidime said with a grin.
He rained blows upon Ether, the battered creature no longer strong enough to mount a defense. As he raised his weapon to deliver what would surely be a final blow, a blaze of white light filled the chamber. The sudden outburst proved distracting enough for Ether to fall clear of the strike, collapsing weakly to the ground. Epidime turned to the source of the blaze, shading his eyes against its intensity.
There, amid the groan of straining steel and the creaking of stone, was Ivy, immersed in a pure white aura. Her eyes, now piercingly white, fixed on Epidime. There was no anger, no fear, just iron determination in her expression. Only once before had she managed such a transformation. Driven only by duty, she'd achieved it in her escape from the fort that had nearly claimed Myranda's life. With the strength brought by her new form, she levered her feet free and now stood with them planted on the wall, pushing with all of her might against the failing grip of the metal tendrils that coiled about her arms. Her clothes rustled in the arcane wind that seemed to surge from her in all directions. Steadily, the writhing steel tentacles began to lose their grips.
Epidime turned his focus to this new threat, directing his will to the failing restraints as he charged at her. The iron grips tightened, causing Ivy to falter and crouch lower to the wall. The charging halberd-bearer was mere steps away when the stone that anchored the tendrils finally gave way. Ivy uncoiled and cannoned into the form barreling toward her. The pair became a tumbling tangle of flailing limbs and brilliant light. Drawing upon instincts and training deep within Lain's mind, Epidime shifted and angled his body with each roll. Finally, planting his feet on Ivy's midsection, he launched her off of him and rolled to his feet in a single, fluid motion. Before his eyes, Ivy pivoted in midair, landing in a dead run.
The dark wizard scarcely had the time to admire the poetry in motion he'd witnessed before he was forced to ready his weapon. What followed was a true sight to behold. Two minds, each rivaled only by the other in acuteness of the senses and
sharpness of the reflexes, engaged in the most unusual of battles.
Epidime knew not what to think. Ivy was attacking, but she wasn't. In motions both graceful and awkward, she was bobbing, weaving, lunging, and diving. Now she reached toward the retreating halberd, now she backed away. She seemed to have no interest whatsoever in striking Epidime himself. It was not until she finally succeeded that Epidime understood her goal.
Ivy's fingers closed around the shaft of the halberd, grasping the weapon just below Epidime's own grip. Steadying herself, Ivy attempted to tear it away from him, but it would not move. Epidime contorted Lain's face into an out-of-place, sinister grin once again. There was a flare of light within his crystal and the whole of the halberd seemed to darken. It had been black before, but now it seemed to devour the light around it until it was little more than a shaft of pure, ebony midnight. The surface was cold, an agonizing, sizzling cold that burned and bit at Ivy's hands, but her grip would not relent. She stared into his eyes, through them, into his soul. Epidime stared back at her, his madness in Lain's eyes.
"Remove the evil weapon and it will release your friend, eh? A clever realization. I wouldn't have thought one of your surging transformations capable of such an epiphany. Intriguing. Blue is fear, red is anger, but what is white? Is it hate? Is it love? Is it an emotion at all? Or have you somehow learned to control what we've done to you? Only one way to find out, I suppose," he mused as the pair struggled against one another.
The crystal flared again. Instantly, the burning in Ivy's hands was joined by a pressure on her mind, an unwanted influence trying to work its way in. In its natural state, Ivy's mind would have been simple to enter, but there was nothing natural about the state her mind was in now. It was consumed by a singular, pure, all-encompassing purpose. A will hard as diamond poured energy from her. Epidime fought the current, pouring more and more of his will to the task.
"You may be able to resist me now . . . but you cannot keep this up for long, can you?" Epidime managed to taunt.
Suddenly, Ivy lurched forward. Lain's body and Epidime's mind had been fully committed to keeping Ivy from pulling away the weapon. Now she was pushing. Before he could compensate, Epidime found himself running backward to keep from falling. He withdrew from her mind to probe for Lain's instincts once more. Just as the perfect counter maneuver surfaced, time ran out. The pair met the wall with crushing force. Lain collided with the narrow section of wall beside the entryway. A heartbeat later, Ivy collided with him. The wind rushed from his lungs, but he did not release the weapon. Suddenly, Ivy buckled to the ground as, through her clothes, the burning of her Mark became visible.
"Lain is still a Chosen. Every action against him is a knife in your own back!" Epidime gloated.
The blazing white aura about Ivy had faded somewhat, but still she held firm. As the Mark finished meting out its punishment, she climbed to her feet and resumed her tug of war on the halberd. Epidime staggered a bit before he managed to mount an effective resistance again.
The general opened his mouth to issue another taunt, but something interrupted him. Something tightened about his waist with crushing strength. He looked down to see a bundle of muscle and gleaming red scales pulled taught around him. A glance over his shoulder revealed that he'd let his attentions stray too far from the task of controlling the metal vines. Myn had managed to bend and rend enough of them to snake her tail through, and now it was locked about him with every ounce of strength the dragon could muster. She didn't understand what was happening, but she didn't need to. The only thing that mattered was getting her friend away from this place, and she meant to do it.
The dragon pulled in one direction, the malthrope in the other. Lain's body dangled off of the ground, bones creaking and tendons straining. Epidime split his mind between the tasks of augmenting Lain's failing muscles enough to maintain his grip and summoning a spell that would end the meddlesome dragon. His joints popped and twisted, sending a shudder of pain through Ivy and Myn alike as their actions took their toll on a fellow Chosen. The hesitation was enough of an opening for him to launch the spell, a ball of crackling black energy, at the dragon.
He watched with morbid interest as it streaked through the air. A shimmering wall manifested in the path of the destructive spell, dispersing it. At the same time, Epidime could feel his fingers being levered open by an unseen force. He turned his head and spat a string of otherworldly syllables, words never before uttered in this world but nonetheless understood for the profanities they were.
Myranda was standing, free, with her staff in hand.
With Epidime's mind otherwise occupied, Myranda had managed to escape from her restraints. Now she focused all that she had into loosening Epidime's grip. For a few long moments, the only sounds were the crackle of bones and the stifled agony of Myn, Ivy, and Myranda as they incurred the wrath of their marks. Finally, Lain's fingers opened. Ivy was thrown back, the weapon hurling from her fingers. As Lain's body fell, motionless, from Myn's grip, the halberd took a wild, clattering path across the ground, screeching to a stop. A moment later, the crystal flared and it launched itself toward them. The heroes braced themselves. There was an ear-shattering clash as the weapon struck something.
There, twisting and shaking to get free, was the halberd. Locked about it were the crumbling fingers of Ether. Powerful arcs of black magic were surging from the weapon, splashing against her stony form and pushing back the others. The shapeshifter staggered to her feet and took a few unsteady steps before a thick bolt of power shattered one of her legs. She dropped to the ground. The failing glow that was her eyes shifted about the floor. Finally, she gripped the halberd with her other hand and with one final heave, lurched into the channel carved into the floor.
There was the crackle and scrape of stone on stone as she plummeted down the narrow crevice, but Ether's grip held. A moment later, the bundle of stone and weapon was driven deep into a thick, molten flow. The halberd shuddered as its metal took on a brilliant glow. The air buzzed about it one last time before it was swallowed by the liquid stone. The still-faintly flickering form of Ivy strode to the edge of the channel and peered into the glowing depths. Assured that her task was complete, the transformation released her and she collapsed to the ground, eyes still faintly open.
"Wha-what?" She panicked, struggling against restraints that weren't there.
Myranda rushed to her and pulled her away from the edge. Ivy slowly realized that something had happened.
"I . . . Did I do something?" she asked, climbing shakily to her feet.
"You did so much," Myranda said, helping her. "But come, we need to help Lain and get him out of here."
The mention of Lain's name shook the cobwebs from Ivy's mind. She hurried to his side, but skidded to a stop.
"What is happening?" she cried.
There was the sickening pop of joints pulling back into place on their own amid sudden jerking motions. He was rising to his feet unnaturally, seemingly hanging from unseen threads that pulled him upright with little concern for things like gravity or balance. The writhing of the metal tendrils near the door began anew, forcing Myn further into the narrow tunnel. Lain's head lifted and his eyes opened. An awful, impossible smile came to his face.
"No . . . It isn’t possible!" Myranda said in horror.
In a blur of motion, Lain's fingers were about her neck, closing with strength they shouldn't have. He lifted her from the ground.
"You are to be commended. I took up the halberd centuries ago. No one until now has been able to destroy it," he said.
Myranda tried to put her mind to a spell, but he sent her crashing to the ground with a vicious throw. With the wizard dazed, he raised his hands to finish the job. Ivy dove onto his back.
"You can't be Epidime!" she cried.
A pulse of magic threw her from his back. He turned and stalked toward her, the greater threat. The same darkness that had encompassed his weapon now seemed to be pooling about his hands, trailing from
them as he walked. He grasped at the air and Ivy suddenly felt a crushing force about her. She was hoisted into the air and held before him. Slowly, he paced toward the channel of lava with her.
"A weakness is a useful thing, Ivy," he said calmly, as though to a student. "Once those who would destroy you discover it, it is all that they target. It makes people predictable. They rely upon it, expend all of their energy on it. I don't have a weakness, so I provided myself with one."
With his other hand, he willed Myranda into the air.
"It is just as well you destroyed it. In the years since I selected the halberd, I've been through the minds of hundreds of warriors skilled in thousands of other weapons. In truth, I was beginning to feel constrained. In the future, I shall have to select something more benign. A medallion--or a ring, perhaps."
Myranda's eyes slowly began to focus. She raised her hand, only to have it pinned down again. The blow had dizzied her, but already her senses were returning. She focused her mind on Lain. Not the body, but the soul within. Epidime was on the surface now, a greasy black slick in her mind's eye, staining Lain's form with his influence. Far behind it was the tiniest flicker of the soul she knew. She reached out to it.
"No, no, no. That will not do," Epidime scolded.
With a flick of his fingers, Myranda was hurled to the center of the room, bouncing painfully against the spire that had held Lain. She fell, barely catching the scalding hot edge of the channel. Instantly, there came a crash strong enough to shake the walls--then another.
Epidime turned to find Myn throwing herself against the entryway. Cracks were creeping along the walls. What remained of the metal vines were little more than twisted, useless lengths of metal. With one final heave, she shattered a piece of the wall away, charging into the chamber. The dragon pounded past Epidime and skidded to a stop at the edge of the channel, scooping Myranda to safety. She then turned to Epidime, a look of betrayal in her eyes.
The Book of Deacon Anthology Page 118