"Right," said Jeska. "Chainer was a dementia summoner with a strong sense of family. I could sense that when we talked to him after our battle. He tried to remake the Cabal to strengthen his family and ended up destroying it. Kirtar, the aven Order lieutenant, was, according to Kamahl, a cold-blooded warrior who longed for order in the world. He turned half the Citadel into solid crystal. Kamahl lives for battle and is obsessed with proving his skills to the world, and now he's brought the tribes to the brink of civil war over a challenge match."
"All right, ye convinced me," said Balthor. "What can we do, girl?"
"We must get the Mirari away from him," said Jeska, as she stopped pacing in front of the dwarf, "and then calm him down, so he'll talk peace with Talon. After that, I don't know. That accursed orb should be destroyed or at least buried in a deep hole. I say we take it to the dwarves, but I know how you feel about them."
"Nah, it's a sensible plan," said Balthor. "The clan's got no dreams beyond moving rocks. The orb should be plenty safe there. But how do we get the thing away from Kamahl? It's attached to his sword."
"We take it tonight while he's asleep."
"Steal it? That's not very honorable girl," commented Balthor.
"Would you rather try to take it by force?" asked Jeska. "Besides, according to the stories grandpapa used to tell, you weren't above a little larceny in your youth."
"That was a long time ago," said Balthor with a smirk. "All right, I'll sneak into Kamahl's room tonight and bring the Mirari back here for ye to take up to the clan."
"No. I should be the one," said Jeska. "Kamahl already doesn't trust me. If you get caught, we won't get a second chance. Besides, he'll kill you if he catches you. I, at least, have a chance against him in a battle."
"I may be getting old," said Balthor, "but I survived the great war against the phyrexians, and I can still handle meself against one slow barbarian carrying a big sword-a sword I forged for your grandpapa, if ye remember from the stories."
"Look, I don't want to argue about this," growled Jeska, as she pressed her hands against her head in frustration. "He's my brother and my responsibility. Besides, we barbarians are a bit faster than you give us credit for."
With that, Jeska grabbed her steel hairpins, pulled them from the bun atop her head, and whipped them down on either side of Balthor's face. Instantly, lightning crackled along the metal spines and arced from one hairpin to the other, right through the dwarf's ears. Jeska held the spell for a full ten seconds, remembering how grandpapa had told her that dwarves have very thick skulls.
Balthor dropped to the wood floor, twitching as residual electricity coursed through his body trying to find some place to ground.
"Sorry, Balthor," said Jeska. "You're going to have a horrible headache when you wake up, but you left me no choice."
Jeska leaned down to make sure Balthor was still alive and to make him as comfortable as she could atop the watchtower, but then heard a rustling in the brush below.
"Fiers's blood," hissed Jeska. "It must be the scouts."
Jeska stood up and peered down at the ground. She saw Lamar, crouched low, slinking back toward town.
"Damn!" growled Jeska. "He'll ruin everything."
CHAPTER 12
Worried about how much Lamar had seen and heard of her treasonous meeting with Balthor, Jeska unleashed a stream of falcons from her palm to pester the general long enough for her to reach him. Jumping onto the watchtower ladder, Jeska swung her legs over the parapet and kicked away from the stone tower. As she fell toward the rocky ground below, Jeska flipped over on top of the ladder and dived forward, hitting the ground and rolling as Balthor had taught her long ago.
After rolling several times to slow her momentum, Jeska sprung to her feet and sprinted after the fleeing Lamar. She had to handle the young general quickly and quietly, for they were close to the village.
She came upon Lamar as the bare-faced barbarian cut the last falcon out of the air. Wasting no time, Jeska pulled her hairpins back out of her pocket and flung one at Lamar like a dagger. As soon as the pin stuck the boy in the neck, Jeska pointed the other hairpin at him and sent a jolt of electricity arcing between the two metal rods. As with Balthor, Jeska used just enough energy to knock out the barbarian but not enough to do any lasting harm.
"Sorry, Lamar," said Jeska as she came up to the unconscious barbarian to retrieve her hairpin, "but playtime is over. I have a war to stop."
Jeska knew her time was short. She could have bluffed the scouts from the tower with Balthor out cold at her feet. But Kamahl was expecting his generals back soon, and if both Balthor and Lamar failed to show, the whole town would be on alert. She had to act now and hope she could knock out her brother with her hairpins long enough to grab the sword and escape into the mountain passes.
As she crept back to the edge of town, the sun set behind the mountains, sending the village into a murky twilight. The town was nearly deserted as most of the barbarians were enjoying their evening meal. From the sound of singing, the generals and many of the troops were taking their supper in the ale hall. Luck was with Jeska as she crept past the tavern to the door of the great hall.
Inside, torches illuminated the darkening hallway with pools of light. Jeska peered down at the door to the meeting room where she and Kamahl had argued earlier. Pulling her hairpins out once more, Jeska stole up to the door and listened for voices. Hearing none, she decided that either Kamahl was alone or the room was empty.
Taking a moment to tie her hair back, Jeska breathed deeply. Grasping a hairpin in each hand, she threw open the door, spotted Kamahl sitting in his chair behind the table, and threw the first hairpin at him as hard and as fast as she could.
Kamahl looked up, saw the incoming missile, and whipped his hand up to snatch it from the air just before the pin dug into his neck.
"What is the meaning of this, Sister?" roared Kamahl as he stood up.
Jeska merely smiled and poured mana into the pin still in her hand, unleashing a bolt of electricity that arced through the air toward the lightning rod her brother now held. When the bolt reached the large barbarian, electricity ran up and down his arm, shaking the limb so hard that Jeska feared Kamahl would drop the hairpin.
As the lightning searched for somewhere to go to ground, the Mirari flashed from atop Kamahl's sword, which was slung behind his back, and the electricity began pouring into the orb, eventually bypassing the hairpin entirely. The Mirari drew the power in, draining Jeska, who fought to stop the flow before it was too late. Jeska slapped her own hand to jar the hairpin loose and break off the contact with the Mirari.
Her legs buckling, Jeska rested her hands on her knees and gasped for air. Looking up, she saw Kamahl standing, now in front of the table, his sword in hand.
"Now, what is the meaning of this, Sister?" demanded the barbarian again.
"It's the… Mirari, Brother," said Jeska, still fighting for air. "You have… to give it up. Let me take it… to the dwarves. They can… keep it safe for you."
Kamahl tossed his head back and laughed. "I see what is happening here," he said. "You want the Mirari. You were always jealous of my power, and now you skulk in here to steal my power for yourself."
"No," panted Jeska. "I just want to save you from… its destructive power." She took one last deep breath and straightened up to face her brother.
"Save yourself, Sister. If you can," stated Kamahl as he lowered his sword to point it at Jeska. "If you want the Mirari, you'll have to battle me for it, like everyone else." A huge bolt of lightning erupted from the tip of the sword, unleashing all the power the orb had stolen from Jeska.
Jeska dived back down the hall, rolling once and coming up running. Looking back, she saw the blast rip a huge hole in the outer wall of the great hall. Kamahl came out of the meeting room and headed down the hall toward her. She continued running, slamming the door open and rushing headlong into the torch-lit village.
"Jeska! Stop!" Kamahl roared from behin
d her, but Jeska continued on, hardly looking where she was going. Suddenly, she did stop, running into a throng of warriors exiting the ale hall to check on the commotion.
"Hold her!" called Kamahl, and Jeska found herself held from behind. Kamahl came up to Jeska and said, "Let us settle this like tribesmen, Sister. A challenge match right here. If you can defeat me, you may have the Mirari. If not, you leave Auror and live out your days with your precious dwarves."
"If that is what it takes, Brother," said Jeska, pulling her arms free from her captors and standing up straight to face Kamahl, "then so be it." Jeska strode out into the street in front of the ale hall and pulled out twin daggers from her boots.
Kamahl took up his position just outside the great hall, and the two siblings faced off in a one-on-one challenge battle for the first time in their lives. Jeska began by summoning a couple of cougars, while keeping a wary eye on Kamahl's sword. Like Talon, she too knew how Kamahl fought.
Jeska continued trying to reason with Kamahl. "Can't you see this has gone too far, Brother? You tried to kill me over a shiny ball. Everyone admits you are the greatest warrior. You don't need some artifact to prove your worth."
"Nice try," spat Kamahl, as he shot a gout of flame from his sword, engulfing the first cougar. "But you can't distract me with your pets or goad me into rash action."
When the second cougar leaped for Kamahl, he flung his arm out straight and caught the beast by the throat, snapping its neck with a quick flip of his wrist. "You'll have to do better than that."
Summoning more mana, Jeska unleashed a Pardic firecat and then another and a third. She had to keep him occupied with creatures, or he'd turn his sword on her. She had to remove the sword from the fight, somehow.
As the firecats prowled around Kamahl, Jeska continued her verbal assault. "Look at these people, Brother. They fear you but not because of your prowess with the sword. It's all because of that foul orb and what it has turned you into."
"They do not fear me," said Kamahl as he struck one firecat with a bolt of lightning while dodging the attack of the second. "They follow me-into glory."
"They only follow you because you will kill them if they don't-as you tried to kill me, as you will try to kill Talon and his followers."
Jeska pressed her numerical advantage by summoning a flock of falcons. She needed him to concentrate on them for just a moment more. " I am the only one with enough courage to face you and tell you the truth, Kamahl. Drop the sword, and I will follow you. Drop the sword, and Talon and the Elite Eight will follow you. Drop the sword, Kamahl, and we will all follow you to glory."
Kamahl wavered, staring at his sword and the silvery orb in the pommel, while the two remaining firecats and the falcons circled in closer.
"You know I am right, Brother," continued Jeska. "I can see it in your eyes. Think about what you have done in the last few weeks. Joha. Talon. Me. That wasn't you in those attacks. It was that foul orb unlocking a beast within you. Just like Chainer."
Jeska thought Kamahl was going to drop the sword and walk away from the Mirari, so she held her beasts at bay, hoping the nightmare could end without any more bloodshed. Then another voice broke the silence.
"Don't listen to her, Kamahl," called Lamar as he pushed through the crowd. "She's a traitor. She attacked me, and she killed Balthor!" The crowd gasped.
Jeska cried, "No!"
The fire in Kamahl's eyes flared brighter than ever as he grasped his great sword in both hands and struck down the nearest firecat with a stream of boulders.
"No, Kamahl. No!" cried Jeska, seeing her last chance to reason with her brother burn away in his seething anger. She had no other choice now. Commanding her falcons to descend, Jeska flipped the daggers over in her hand and watched for her opportunity.
It came quickly. Kamahl swatted at the first few falcons, but then roared like an enraged animal. Spinning the pommel of his sword between his fingers, the barbarian grabbed it in both hands and pointed it up into the air, unleashing a geyser of molten lava that incinerated bird after bird.
With her brother's attention up in the air, Jeska let her daggers fly, burying them in between the middle knuckles in the back of the barbarian's hands. Kamahl screamed in pain, dropping the sword as he brought his bleeding hands down in front of his face. Immediately, Jeska's remaining firecat loped in, grabbed the sword between its teeth, and bolted for the ring of spectators.
"You conniving bitch," spat Kamahl, wincing as he slowly withdrew the slim daggers. "You killed Balthor, and now you intend to kill me."
"It's not true," said Jeska while Kamahl ripped strips of cloth from his shirt and bound each hand to staunch the bleeding. "What Lamar said is simply not true. Balthor and I talked. He agreed with me that we should take the orb from you. He wanted to do it himself, but I couldn't let him take that chance, so.1 knocked him out with a jolt of lightning. He's not dead Kamahl. I would never kill Balthor."
Kamahl looked up at his sister, the fire in his eyes replaced with a cold, murderous stare. "You and Balthor never agree, not on anything," he said. "You went to enlist his aid in your treachery, and when that failed, you killed him."
"That's right, Kamahl," said Lamar. "They argued, and then she electrocuted him with those wicked hairpins. She held the spell for a minute. Held it until Balthor dropped."
Kamahl let out a primal scream that reverberated off the mountains, then he rushed at his sister in a blind rage. Jeska rolled to the side, kicking her legs out as Kamahl came in, knocking the large barbarian to the ground. She had no choice now. She had to win this battle to keep the orb away from her brother.
Kamahl bounced off the dirt and rolled away from his sister as Jeska hopped to her hands and knees. Kamahl, covered in dirt and blood, ran right at his sister again.
As he closed, Jeska tightened the muscles in her legs, preparing to jump. But instead of diving to the side, Jeska leaped right at Kamahl, flinging her hands out in front of her and clasping them together over her head, intending to bash into the large barbarian's chest with her full weight and knock the wind out of him.
Jeska missed the mark. Kamahl veered off course and tossed his arms out to each side. Instead of landing a finishing blow on her brother, Jeska slammed into Kamahl's outstretched arm, catching his wrist in her neck. Suddenly stopped in mid-jump, Jeska's head and ponytail whipped forward over her brother's arm while her legs and torso continued on underneath. Her body flipped around the arm, where she hung for a brief moment, before she fell on her back with a dull thud.
A few minutes later, Jeska opened her eyes, still groggy from hitting her head. She could see nothing more than streaks of light from the torches, could hear the low rumblings of the gathered crowd, but could not pick out any faces through her blurred vision. Then she heard her brother's booming voice.
"Stand aside!" he cried. "It is time to finish this once and for all. The witch must pay."
Jeska tried to stand but could not yet feel her feet. Trying to wipe away the blurred images with the back of her hand, Jeska could just make out her brother pushing his way through the crowd.
Kamahl tossed the bloody daggers into the dirt and came at Jeska, his great sword, burning white hot, held high over his head in his bandaged hands. Tiny blue flames danced all along the edge of the six-foot blade, mesmerizing the groggy Jeska as her brother advanced upon her.
Jeska tried to crawl out of the way, but her legs failed to move. All she could do was mouth the word "no" as Kamahl plunged his sword deep into her abdomen, puncturing her stomach and tearing a huge gash through her intestines, before exiting right next to her spine.
The momentary shock and pain that Jeska felt from the metal ripping through her belly was nothing compared to the searing heat that spread from the wound throughout her body, as if the blue flames had leaped from the blade and ignited inside her.
As the internal fire radiated out from the wound, engulfing her legs, her lungs, her heart, and finally her head, Jeska crumpled to the
ground at Kamahl's feet, her green eyes open, searching for some hint of her brother left inside the creature that had struck her down.
CHAPTER 13
Balthor walked into Auror, one hand resting on his axe handle and the other massaging his bruised temples.
"Blast that girl," he grumbled. "Me head is going to ache for a week." While making his way slowly toward the great hall to inform Kamahl that the scouts had not checked in, the dwarf noticed a crowd gathered outside the ale hall. A shout pierced the still night air. "Stand aside! It is time to finish this once and for all. The witch must pay."
"Oh, Fiers! No!" said Balthor. "Jeska." The dwarf ran. Fighting his way through the mob, Balthor pushed to the center behind Kamahl just as the large barbarian plunged his father's sword into his sister's body.
"Kamahl! No!" roared Balthor as Jeska crumpled to the ground. Rushing up to the man he'd treated as a son even before the boy's father died, Balthor looked down at Jeska, the daughter he had adopted and cherished. The massive sword that Balthor had forged a century earlier had torn a huge gash in Jeska's stomach. But there was no blood. Instead, small blue flames danced within the wound, slowly burning the flesh, which seared and fused together.
"What have ye done, me boy?" asked Balthor as he grabbed Kamahl by the arm and tried to pull him around. A deathly silence washed across the gathered barbarians. "What have ye done?"
As Balthor pulled on him, Kamahl whirled around, the fire in his eyes flaring, his sword drawn back in his bandaged and bloody hands, ready to strike again. But when the barbarian saw Balthor's face, the rage washed away from his eyes, replaced by a look of confusion. Kamahl dropped the tip of his sword to the ground and stared at Balthor.
"You… you're dead," said Kamahl. "He said you were dead." Balthor merely shook his head.
"Dear Fiers, what have 1 done," cried out Kamahl, dropping his sword to the ground and burying his face in his huge hands. Falling to his knees as the assembled generals and army watched in stunned silence, the barbarian leader threw his head back and roared at the night sky like a wolf howling for a lost mate. "Noooooooo!" he cried. "Please Fiers. Noooo!" With his cries echoing off the mountains, Kamahl crawled over to Jeska and cradled his sister's head in his bloodstained arms, whimpering, "No, Jeska, no," as he rocked back and forth, holding her limp body to his chest and burying his face in her hair.
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