The Titan's Tome (The Mortal Balance Book 1)

by M. B. Schroeder

  Golas followed Khain’s look back at DraKar and shuddered. Burning a soul for magic had not been something he’d thought possible, much less by the sarpand. It was unacceptable that the brute he’d known as DraKar had the capability to wield that kind of magic. He tried to rationalize how a mortal could tear apart and consume an immortal essence, and contain the resulting power. DraKar’s aura still shifted and roiled. It didn’t make sense that it had lightened. Did consuming that much power and using it to kill the archdevil have something to do with it? Perhaps it would take time for the inky aura to settle?

  His disbelief was interrupted by Camry shaking his arm.

  “Can you shield us?” Camry demanded, when Golas finally focused on her.

  “Yes,” Golas muttered. He concentrated on the task, trying to ignore the silent sarpand behind him. “Yes.” After settling the shield around the group, he nodded. “We can go.”

  Madger took several steps from the shore, but the trembling ground beyond where they stood, was difficult for her to traverse. She had to hold her arms out to try and steady herself, each step like walking on a narrow rope about to be jerked out from under her. Kharick couldn’t follow more than a step and Seal and Morkleb had to cling to each other to stay upright.

  Camry and Golas were having no better luck, the old elf was knocked to his hands and knees, and Khain caught Camry’s hand to steady her before she joined him. Behind them, DraKar slowly walked forward, closing the short distance between them. As his clawed toes stepped onto the ground near them, the trembling ceased.

  Golas cursed, got to his feet, and looked back at DraKar, and slowly everyone else did too.

  “DraKar,” Camry began in a breathy, cautious voice. “What are you doing?”

  Achingly slowly, as though drawn from a great distance, DraKar blinked and focused his eyes on the elf. “What?”

  “How are you stopping the ground from shaking?” Golas demanded. He saw no spell, no magic radiating from the sarpand to the land under them. His patience and sanity were slipping with each new event.

  DraKar slowly looked at the ground, trying to pull his mind away from the terror of watching Armagon ripped in half. “I don’t know.”

  Seal gasped. “Are you in control of the Seventh plane?”

  DraKar’s eyes narrowed as he focused on her again. Not liking the implication she’d made; he was part of the Hells now.

  “DraKar, you killed Asmodeus,” Khain said carefully, familiar with the agitated look beginning to melt the neutral mask.

  A deep grumbling sound came from DraKar, but he was starting to understand their reasoning. A mild curiosity made him think of the chaotic landscape as a smooth flat track of tan earth, with no darkening clouds in the pale sky. Immediately the landscape responded to his thoughts and settled to DraKar’s expectations.

  “The bastard is an archdevil!”

  The accusation snapped DraKar from the fog of sorrow Armagon’s death had encased around his mind. Before Golas could think to raise a shield, DraKar’s enormous hand closed around the elf’s throat and lifted him off the ground.

  Morkleb cried out and staggered back from the violence, nearly sending him and Seal to the ground. Thesda help him! What was he doing with an archdevil?

  The land around them roared and quaked in agony, as DraKar’s focus slipped from it. Everyone but DraKar and Khain tumbled to the ground. Golas gagged and grasped at the hard, scaled hand, before gathering himself to cast a spell at the sarpand. The sharp spear of magic hit DraKar in the chest and knocked him back onto the ground. The residual crackles of power coursed over DraKar’s armor and held him down.

  Golas coughed and fought to breathe after DraKar dropped him, but he had the presence of mind to place a firm shield around himself.

  DraKar growled from where he was held, his magic tried to rip away Golas’s spell, his muscles bulged and twitched in an attempt to get free. His eyes blazed red as anger seared his mind.

  “Shit, DraKar!” Camry screeched as she tried to keep from falling further than her hands and knees. “Stop, before you kill us!”

  Khain stalked over to DraKar. “Settle this ground before you hurt them.”

  DraKar snarled at Khain but eased the trembling, until the landscape was bare and flat again. His eyes still seethed amber as he tried to look for Golas, but his head was firmly held in place like the rest of his body. “Release me!” he snarled through gritted teeth, the spell so tight he couldn’t open his mouth.

  Golas cautiously stood again, still rubbing at his throat. He hesitated in dismissing the spell, but Camry pulled at his arm roughly.

  “Let him go, or I’ll break it,” she said.

  With a grimace of reluctance, Golas freed DraKar, but kept his shield in place.

  DraKar jumped to his feet, and Khain moved in front of him. The sarpand trembled, tail lashing. “I’m not an archdevil. I can leave the Hells.”

  “We have yet to see that,” Seal said.

  DraKar slowly turned his predatory gaze on her.

  “He killed the archdevil,” Madger said and took a step to place herself between the two. “He’s still mortal.”

  Golas gave a derisive snort. What did a mountain giant know about the workings of the Hells? “We’ll see.”

  “The archdevils will likely be coming here to try and claim this plane,” Khain said. “Unless you want to fight them for it, DraKar, I suggest we get to the palace and leave.”

  DraKar grunted and he composed his features into the neutral mask again. He stepped around them and led the way to the palace. It had halted its chaotic transformation, his presence and focus stabilizing it. Partially crumbled walls were suspended mid-air, and towers were frozen in their growth from the ground. The dust of the construction and destruction hung in the air, not moving.

  It didn’t take them long to reach the palace, frozen in its decomposition. The demesne shifted, bringing it closer to them, as DraKar wished. The movement didn’t create any further quakes, it was so smooth they barely realized it hadn’t taken them half the time it should have to reach it.

  DraKar tilted his head as he took in the sight of the shattering palace. The massive stone structure with its crystalline spires, reminded him of torturous tutors, harsh orders from devils, and the first time he had successfully burned a soul. The palace shuddered, and DraKar stopped himself from destroying it. They needed to reach Selien’s phylactery and the portal to Limbo.

  Instead of razing the palace, he shifted the inside to accommodate their needs. He shunted away all the decadence and enshrined scenes of torture. It left the large room simple and barren. He drew the pure room where Selien was held into the main chamber at the entrance, and placed the portal to Limbo in the same room.

  “We can go in,” DraKar said and led the way through the gaping entrance.

  Golas glared at DraKar as he passed him, and begrudgingly followed. Forcing a confrontation now wouldn’t help the situation they were in. He had to admit that they needed the sarpand’s abilities.

  Inside was a cavernous room, just as DraKar had envisioned. Bare and plain with a high ceiling, and centered in the main chamber was a huge circular gateway. To the left was an alcove that contained the pure room where Selien was imprisoned.

  They gathered at the entrance of the white room, the water had ceased to spill from its ceiling, and the shallow pool had drained. In the center of the empty pool was a pearly white box, only a foot tall with six-inch sides. It shimmered with a soft light and thinly drawn runes marked the exterior, a faint blue glow emitted from each line.

  The glow from the phylactery brightened, the lines of light wove together, and the ghostly figure of Selien appeared. Her elven features and long white dress a familiar sight only to Khain. She stepped forward, almost within arms-length, and began to speak. Not to all of them at once, but to each individually, as though each member of the group was alone with Her in the pale room. Like a dream, they would remember what she said in hints and fragment
s.

  “You’ve fulfilled your promise to help Armagon free me, but there is still the task of removing Arkhed.” She touched each of them on the chest, marking their souls. She and Gaia had always known they would need mortals, but it hadn’t known which souls would rise to the challenge. Now, Gaia would also know them.

  “Golas, it was not your fault. The opening of the portal that drew you and your companions here would have happened with or without you. Demons have haunted you since before the southern continent was turned to desert. Soon you’ll rest and you’ll understand.”

  “Camry, niece of my mortal flesh. You’ve tied yourself to these souls, to my servants, with your own bindings. Your heart is strong, but peace will be hard to hold. Find it when you can.”

  “Kharick, you are the bedrock. A quiet strength, not built with magic or reliant on a deity. You provide a calm foundation. Without you, they might crumble, but eventually they’ll need to learn to stand on their own.”

  “Seal, you know more and hide more than anyone should. You go where you’re told not to go. You speak and trust those you’re told to shun. You see things others do not see. Though, even you are sometimes blind. When you find your broken half, perhaps you will gain your full sight.”

  “Madger, you have much to learn and much to give. Sacrifice is etched in you. Do not stop fighting until there is nothing left to give. Your family is closer than you think.”

  “Morkleb, ever the bright point in a dark world. You can be their anchor. You can be their strength. If you can find the resolve to temper yourself.”

  “Khain, you are truly loyal. We will never be separated, though you have no soul. There is still much to prepare.”

  “DraKar, brother of my Champion. Know that Armagon is with me, even though I could not save him from the mortal wounds in my Brother’s realm. You cut your own bindings to the Hells when you destroyed Asmodeus, the one who bound you, despite burning souls to do it. Though it frightens you, more will become dear to you than you dared hoped. I offer a special boon, this you will remember: if you are lost in chaos, read my name into a summoning and I will aid you. Now take this, my Sister Gaia needs Her Champion to take up the Alisande.”

  Selien pressed a coin to DraKar’s chest, he remained motionless, his eyes vacant, as his fluid armor drew it in, surrounding it, sealing it away, and the memory of Her placing it there was shrouded. She stepped back to Her original position, and let all of them see Her vanish. The phylactery cracked, light spilled out from it and disappeared in a white flash.

  They left the room, dazed, knowing they’d completed the task of freeing Selien, but with the sensation there was something more to do. It faded, becoming little more than the common feeling of entering a room and forgetting why. Once outside of the pristine room, it fell away, like a building of sand that had become too dry. The tiny grains scattered away on a wind.

  Khain broke the uncanny silence. “What will happen here? Will you keep it?”

  DraKar shook his head, unsure if he could be rid of control of the Seventh plane. “Let the devils fight each other for it.” He moved to the circular gateway, and fed his magic into it. The runes around the perimeter lit and rotated, the enchantment within the portal clicked over like a tumbler in a lock and connected to a similar gateway on Limbo. Dancing white light sparked across the portal and lit the circular stone. Khain stepped through, and the rest followed him. Only DraKar paused and looked back at the bare room.

  “Take it and rot,” he growled. He released his control of the plane and stepped through the gateway as the palace began to crumble again.

  Chapter 30

  317 Br. summer

  “Spells may be tied off in their weaving with enough magic to feed the enchantment so that it may last for centuries. The mage may add power to the enchantment if needed or wanted, or the spell can be allowed to unravel as the magic fades with use.”

  -Theory of Magic – Master of Mages Jorel Dirk of King Ferick’s court

  K hain sprinted down the tunnel lit from the portal and called back, “Run! Arkhed will know the portal opened! We aren’t ready to face him without Armagon.”

  The glow from the portal illuminated a cavern of onyx; the walls bore ripples throughout, as though it had once been liquid. Directly across from them was a large opening with more light, but they couldn’t see beyond it. Khain’s urgent instruction spurred the rest of the group into a pounding run behind him.

  DraKar stepped through the pale swirl within the portal, and the power winked out behind him, plunging the tunnel into darkness. He joined the rush toward the opening and blinked in the light as they exited the cave. The ground rumbled as they fled, dashing across a field of broken stones and cooled lava. Behind and above them, the volcano belched smoke and drooled fresh lava, standing alone in the grass that stretched beyond its touch.

  Madger gasped and nearly tripped when the heavy thrum of DraKar’s magic put a shield over them. Above them, from one of the multiple openings in the side of the volcano, dark shapes spilled out, wings flapping against the violet sky. More creatures joined the pursuit, thundering down the side of the volcano, their claws clattering against the stone.

  What had once been humanoid, now ran on all fours to chase them. Running on toes and slapping, elongated hands should have been slow and awkward, but they moved with incredible speed. Their skin was cracked and blackened, and green eyes flashed as the cirKad hunted their prey. Long sharp claws ripped at the rocks as they ran, yellow saliva coating their stretched snouts, as sharp teeth gnashed together. Above, the fliers followed, on wings of sickly stretched webbing, with hints of feathers that clung along the bones, black with rot.

  Morkleb frantically glanced back at the cirKad, their auras as black as a demon’s. But these weren’t demons. They were still alive. Whatever person they might have been, had been corrupted, fully twisted, and bent to the Dark One by Arkhed. It was as much an abomination as burning a soul. Forcing the change against the person’s will. Morkleb wanted to scream and retch, but he had to keep running.

  The group made it to the edge of the smoldering mountain to the grassland where long reeds of green and gold reached up above the elves’ waists. The cool smell of the field and rich earth was a welcome reprieve from the stench of the Hells, even as they tried to outpace the creatures bearing down on them.

  “Cross the river,” Khain ordered and pointed. “At the top of the tallest hill, go toward the ruins. Don’t stop running until you’re there!” Then his shape disappeared into the ground.

  Camry gasped and looked behind her, wondering where he’d gone.

  DraKar shoved her forward. “Don’t look, move!”

  Camry stumbled back into a full run. Distant snarls and roars sounded behind her, followed by wailing and whining.

  Morkleb lifted his wings from his shoulders, preparing to fly.

  Seal jerked a wing down. “No, the fliers are faster and you’ll be an easier target for them in the air.”

  Golas was staggering and panting, even Kharick with his shorter legs was outpacing him. DraKar remained behind the old elf and said, “Teleport across the river.”

  “The icren,” Golas protested between wheezing breaths.

  “Leave him with me.”

  Before any of them could argue leaving Morkleb behind with DraKar, Golas whipped the weaving of the teleport spell around them.

  Seal’s wail at their separation echoed off the waters of the river. Her blue eyes were wide and wild with the reflection of the river and the black mass of cirKad bearing down on them. It was just like before, just like the loss of the kadmoni nation. The ruins of their home further down river, beyond the bend and hidden in the hills. Walls overrun by distorted black figures that had once been her people, her brothers and sisters. The only way any had escaped was by the river.

  DraKar sent a wave of fire through the air, burning some of the fliers diving toward the group. “Shield them, you fool!” he bellowed.

  Madger ma
naged to get a shield in place. But she stood rooted in place, staring helplessly at Morkleb and DraKar across the river. They’d left them behind.

  Morkleb slid to a stop at the bank of the river, and turned back to look at the thundering creatures descending the valley toward them.

  “Damn cleric,” DraKar growled and grabbed him roughly. Morkleb managed a squeak before being thrown into the river. “Swim!”

  Morkleb breached the surface of the water, gasping from the shock. The river was deep and slow, the bottom ten feet below his kicking feet. Large gem colored rocks littered the bed, glinting under the clear waters. He tread in the slow current, staring back at DraKar, his shield was deflecting the fliers that caught up with them. He drew his sword and swung it, directing a wave of dark flames up the valley toward the pursuing creatures. The flames crashed over the cirKad as they descended into the valley like an avalanche.

  “Morkleb!”

  He turned back to the group, Seal was on her knees at the shore, screaming for him. He swam toward her as the sounds of battle resonated across the river.

  The crack of spells, and guttural sounds from the creatures as they attacked or were forced back, echoed across the surface of the water with a deafening volume. The dark mass of bodies with sharp teeth and claws and glinting eyes were surrounding DraKar, but not crossing the river. Magic flashed around DraKar, ripping through cirKad bodies, sending pieces of them cartwheeling through the air. Along the bank, the creatures howled and roared at the escaping icren, slipping in the mud, but avoided entering the water. Above them, the fliers circled, a dark tornado of flapping wings, trying to capture what had escaped the land-bound cirKad.

  Golas pulled at Camry’s hand. “We need to get to the ruins.”

  Camry waved an arm back toward Morkleb and DraKar. “We have to wait for them.”

  He looked back toward the army of alchemical creatures. This was where he’d lost Sadria. Where she’d made her stand and shouted for him and Varlec to flee. He’d dragged Varlec away, the only student he’d been able to save. He turned back to Camry. Now he was here again, with Varlec’s daughter. He wouldn’t lose her.