by Ben Hale
Water danced away from the groaning supports to a more sure footing, catching another hammer on the shoulder. He winced, the blow knocking him through a gap and almost to the floor.
“Are you trying to kill me?” Light demanded from below.
“Yes!” a dakorian snarled, furiously trying to land a blow on the fragment of light.
Water saw the fourth dakorian leap to the nearest beam and swing his hammer. The soldier barked an order and the group bashed their hammers into the supports around Water. Wood groaned, metal screeched, and sections of the roof began to sag as the supports were removed. The upper roof, supported by beams extending to the walls, remained mostly intact, but the entire framework beneath was beginning to sag, taking Water with it.
Water sought to escape the ring but the dakorians had surrounded him and were attempting to bring the entire section of ceiling down. Water then hurled his staffblade like a spear at the nearest dakorian, the blade slipping through a gap in the beams to plunge into his chest.
“If you wish to take the roof down,” Water said, his voice gaining an edge, “perhaps I should return the favor.”
“As if you could,” the dakorian snarled. Reaching down, he snapped the rod in half and tossed the piece away.
Anger rose within Water and he drew upon it, reaching for the beams above his head. Like most human structures, the roof contained tubes that captured rainwater, feeding it to the kitchens below. Directly above Water was the reservoir, and Water pulled on its power. The dakorians hesitated when they saw a sprinkle of water come through the cracks, the stream quickly swelling into a torrent.
“You want me to fall?” he asked, his voice darkening. “We go down together.”
He shaped the water into a spinning blade, the material spitting with power that cut into the beams. Then he expanded the blade, the weapon accelerating its spin, the blade slicing a scorching line through the beams it crossed, expanding outward as he continued to spin. White hot, the water carved through the wood as it accelerated, and the wood split.
With a growl, Water released the spin, cutting all the beams. Severed from their moorings, the interior supports collapsed in a crash of groaning wood. The four dakorians cried out as they fell, the beams falling underneath and upon them, their sheer weight snapping bone. The metal brackets snapped, becoming shards of broken steel, and cut through one of the dakorians, leaving him bloodied.
Water landed in the pile of beams and cast a shield above his head, grunting as four of the beams landed on top of him. A glance revealed one of the dakorians pinned but alive. The other three managed to extricate themselves as Water stepped from beneath the beams and picked his way to the pinned dakorian.
“You shouldn’t challenge what you do not understand,” Water said.
He cast a spike and plunged it through the pinned soldier, the weapon piercing the bone and heart beneath. A final snarl escaped the soldier’s lips as Water held the gaze of the trio that had sought to trap him, who growled at the kill and charged, driving him toward the back side of the cavern. Water’s feet left stone as he retreated across the glass floor.
Abruptly Water was aware of the raging battle being waged in the back of the tavern. He spotted Lira fighting three at once, her expression worried. She, Light, and Jeric had all been driven to the back section of the structure. Then Water noticed it was not just the walls that were cracked.
It was the floor.
Seeing the cracks, Light sucked the illumination from the room and added it to his dakorian hammer, casting the tavern into flickering patterns of shadow. The weapon glowed to life, the light becoming blinding as the sun charm continued to build. Water saw what he intended and shouted a warning.
“Light! Don’t!”
His features illuminated by the hammer, Light spun the hammer in a circle and brought it down on the glass floor. The empowered weapon detonated in a blast of light. Glass shattered as a trio of dakorians caught on the floor scrambled for the back wall. Water, Lira, and Jeric did the same, catching the back wall as the floor disintegrated. Other dakorians lunged for the safety of the front side of the tavern, most succeeding, but one failed. He cried out as he fell short, his body bouncing off the cliff before tumbling to the lake a thousand feet below.
Clinging to the back wall, Jeric grinned. “Well done, Light.”
“ARE YOU MAD?” shrieked Lira.
“We were trapped,” Light said with a shrug as he clung to the back wall. “This gives us an advantage.”
“He’s not wrong,” Water said.
Water sucked in his breath as he looked at the fall. Wind coming off the cliff gusted into him, buffeting him where he clung to the back wall of the tavern. With many of the supports damaged, the wall swayed side to side, and he could have sworn he could hear it cracking.
He fastened himself to the wall with threads of water, the threads turning into spider legs. He then swung free so he could engage the nearest dakorian, also clinging to the wall. The soldier snarled and swung his hammer, breaking one of the spider legs. It quickly reformed and Water plunged his staff into the wall, using it to pry the dakorian free, but the foe gripped the wall and refused to break. The wall did, however, and an entire section of paneling came free, the dakorian tumbling through the gaping hole that had once been the floor.
Lira glanced uncertainly at the drop and then cast a trio of stepping stones out of air. She danced across the gap and struck one of the leading dakorians, drawing blood from his shoulder. She then retreated. The dakorians lined up along the edge of the cliff. Two dakorians remained on the back wall, but both were out of reach.
“You fight well,” Tardoq said. “But you’re still just human.”
“Will you say that when I kill you?”
Tardoq’s sniffed, and then his order sent a chill into Water’s stomach. “Take out the walls.”
The dakorians turned their weapons on the remaining walls. Hammers crashed into the supports, blasting the thick beams to splinters. The beams cracked and groaned as the walls gave way, the roof cracking and crumbling. Water caught a glimpse of Tardoq’s smirk before the back half of the Cat’s Eye came free, and dropped down the cliff.
Chapter 12: The Lost Temple
Lira looked on in horror as half of the tavern came away, taking her and her companions with it. The dakorians leapt for safety, catching the hammers extended by their companions. Lira’s back pressed into the ceiling of the tumbling structure.
The back wall, a section of roof, and the two side walls tipped down, striking the cliff. The impact snapped the remaining supports and set the structure into a spin. As they hurtled for the lake below, the spin forced her to grip the wall with all her strength or risk soaring into the broken glass of what had once been the floor. Fear gripped her, the emotion blocking her desperate attempts of magic. But Light’s delighted shout flared her anger.
“You’re supposed to kill them!” she roared. “Not us!”
“What do you mean?” Water asked, sidling up to her.
With his spider legs of water attached to the wall, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her free. The spider legs began to spin, allowing Water to slow their rotation. Her vision settled, and the structure spun around them.
He looked upward and launched them through a hole in the structure, taking them to open air. The back half of the tavern flipped below them, Light leaping into the air with golden wings holding him aloft. Jeric jumped to the cliff, landing sideways, his boots sticking to the stone.
Water morphed his spider legs into a needle that encased them both. She braced for the impact with the water but was supremely conscious of Water’s body pressed against hers, his strong form holding her tight.
The broken tavern smashed into the lake in a plume of water—and the needle knifed through, diving deep, the length of the enchantment slowing their passage. Water smiled as they came to a halt deep in the lake, safe inside the cocoon of water.
“Light was right,” he said
, obviously enjoying the escape. “We needed to escape.”
“I could have saved my own life,” she snapped.
She drew her sword and sliced across the bubble, drawing a deep breath as water filled the pocket of air in a rush of bubbles. She lashed the air to her feet and used it to propel herself upward.
She breached the surface to find Light hovering above, large wings of light bound to his shoulders. Lira’s irritation turned to shock when she looked up and spotted Jeric on the cliff—walking down the vertical surface like it was flat ground. He picked his way past a particularly rough patch of cliff and then noticed her.
“I’ll be there in a moment!” he called, stepping over a crag and continuing his descent.
Her anger returning, she turned and used a burst of air to streak across the surface to the eastern bank. When she reached it, she stepped free of the water and turned to the cliff. Even with the distance, she spotted Tardoq standing in the broken opening. Then he and the other dakorians departed.
Water ascended from the depths, propelled by his own magic, while Light landed next to them, his features bright with excitement. Seconds later, Jeric appeared astride a wave of water, which deposited him in their midst.
“Well done, my friends,” he exclaimed, dusting off his arms. “This journey is going to be one for the ages.”
Lira drew her blade and placed it on the elf’s chest. “If you ever help the enemy again, I’ll kill you myself.”
The heat in her voice did not faze the elf. “You wound me, my dear lady. But I shall adhere to your demands.”
“You’re all wet,” Water said. “Do you want me to dry your clothes?”
She gripped her fist and air blasted her garb, pulling the moisture from her clothing and armor. Then she stabbed her sword toward the cliff where the dakorians had stood moments before.
“They know where we’re going and have the lead,” she growled. “And after the conflict we caused, the guards are not going to let us use the ascender to get up the cliff.”
Light yawned, seeming to abruptly realize the sun was setting on the horizon. “I could fly up in the morning?”
“No,” Lira said. “We’re going around.”
She stomped away from the group and made her way east, not caring if anyone followed. When she heard only two sets of feet coming from behind, she glanced back, annoyed to see that Jeric walked without making a sound. Of course he did.
Ignoring them, she plunged into the forest of Numen and walked through the night, not stopping until they reached the great Blue Lake. Massive and sprawling, the lake was large enough that ships took weeks to cross, and it contained islands at its center, home of the Azure people.
A rough road clung to the edge of the Giant’s Shelf, ascending to the plateau above. But fatigue had finally overcome her anger and she made camp a few hours before dawn. All were obviously tired but Light was practically asleep, walking along with his eyes closed. Even Jeric looked tired, and the group overnighted in the trees near the road.
Sunrise came with a shout from Light. Lira groaned and cursed the fragment that was worse than any rooster. He laughed and soaked in the sun, rousing them all like they’d been sleeping for weeks.
“You get used to him,” Water said.
“Blasted sunrise,” she muttered.
He grinned, and she reluctantly rose. Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she avoided looking at Jeric and then retrieved a morning meal of dried fruit from her pack. Light noticed her irritation and dropped to her side.
“Why are you so sleepy?” Light asked, his voice bright with anticipation. “The dakorians are miles ahead of us and we need to hasten!”
“We’re only behind because of him,” Lira grumbled, casting Jeric a baleful glare.
Jeric ignored the comment. Packing his things, he bounced to his feet and clapped Light on the back, his eagerness as grating as the fragment’s. Water yawned and looked down at Lira, his expression one of concern.
“Do you need more sleep?” he asked.
“No,” she said.
She rose and gathered her things before striding onto the road. Light’s exuberance gradually bled into her and by noonday she found her irritation was gone. Her suspicion remained, and she cast several glances at the mysterious Jeric.
“I’m flattered by your attention,” he finally said, his lips twitching, “but I already favor another.”
She jerked her head. “You do not seem to regret the loss of your tavern.”
“I was already restless,” he said. “And you gave the Cat’s Eye a fitting end.”
“And you just left it behind?” she asked. “Just to risk your life with us?”
“We are all given a single life,” he said ruefully, “yet I was blessed with a desire to live more than one.”
“They said you were an assassin?” she asked.
“I have been many things,” he said. “None hold my fancy for long. A tavern owner sounded like a pleasurable way to spend my final years, but I gradually grew envious of the tales I heard.”
“And you are determined to make this journey more dangerous?”
His smile was one of anticipation. “A sunset is most vibrant when it is about to expire.”
Lira scowled at him but did not respond. The elf represented an enigma, one she guessed would not be solved by her. Of all the characters she had encountered in the conflicts she had fought, her current companions were the strangest.
As they journeyed north she found herself studying the fragments. She could not deny their attractiveness as Draeken, but they were fragments of a single personality, and each was unique. They were undeniably brothers, a family, yet also parts of a whole. It was a disconcerting concept.
Ever optimistic and impulsive, Light was almost chaotic in his behavior, one moment pointing to a soaring bird, the next leaping off the ground to soar at its side. Yet despite the lack of reserve, he displayed occasional outbursts of anger that revealed a streak of darker impulsivity.
Water represented a distinct contrast. While Light had the attention span of a child, Water possessed a more seasoned happiness. Quick to smile and laugh, he also expressed doubts and occasionally irritation. She knew little of the other fragments, but Water seemed to possess a sense of honor more than his brothers.
At first, Lira had thought the fragments to be simply expressions of a single personality trait, but the more time she spent with Water and Light, the more she realized they contained a full range of consciousness, albeit some attributes came in smaller quantities. She wondered if the smaller traits had been learned under Elenyr’s tutelage.
They passed a grave next to the road, the simple placard fastened above signifying it had been a beloved daughter. Light paused, his entire body going dim when he saw the grave, and abruptly he added a burst of light to the inscription, brightening the sign so the child would not be forgotten.
“A touching tribute,” Jeric said.
Light flashed a sad smile before a butterfly distracted him and he was off again. Unnoticed by any except Lira, Jeric plucked a flower from a nearby grove and deposited it on the grave. Then he turned and hurried to catch up.
Lira disliked the quandary the elf presented. He was obviously a wanderer, one that never ceased in his quest for the new and exotic. Lira wondered if his choice to join their group had been predetermined, or if he’d decided in the moment. All she knew was that his unpredictable nature made him dangerous, and she disliked the prospect of him at her side.
The group journeyed north, through the forests of northern Erathan. Lira set a blistering pace and, where possible, they accelerated their journey with the fragments’ magic. She rotated her magic between hearing and sight, wary of encountering the dakorians. Aside from a few scattered villages and merchants, they encountered no one except a caravan of dwarves traveling south who spoke of strange outlanders.
When they parted ways with the caravan Lira nodded. “The dakorians might already have found the temple.”<
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“Indeed,” Jeric said.
Lira clenched her jaw in irritation at Jeric’s obvious enthusiasm. How could the man sound excited upon learning their foes were gaining ground? It rankled that he insisted on accompanying them, and she had yet to decide if he was a threat that required elimination.
“They will need a source of power,” Lira said. “A strong one.”
“Like magic?” Light asked.
“Perhaps,” she mused. “I doubt they can find an intact gravity sphere here, so I’m not sure how they intend to power a Gate.”
“Why do you suppose they are seeking the beacon?”
“I came to you for aid,” Lira said, motioning to the fragments. “Perhaps they are doing the same thing, and looking for a guide.”
“What sort of magic creates a Gate?” Jeric asked.
“You do not already know?” Lira asked.
The elf smirked at her tone. “I am a collector of information,” he said. “I do not claim to know everything.”
“Just the important bits,” Light said with a laugh.
“There are several types of Gates,” Lira said, “ones that connect in both directions, small ones, large ones, even those that only permit certain things to pass.”
“How intriguing,” Jeric mused.
Lira frowned, abruptly realizing she was giving information to an individual she could hardly trust. In the Empire she was always on guard, but since arriving on Lumineia she’d lapsed her focus. She could not afford to forget her purpose. Changing the subject, she focused on the approaching temple.
The trees gradually thinned as they neared the plains that marked the border between the dwarven kingdom and Erathan. Her rising tension was not shared by her companions, who displayed emotions from anticipation to outright excitement.
They reached the edge of the forest, where a small hill formed a sentinel that seemed to hold the forest from growing into the grasslands. The sun was setting and Light yawned. Then the temple came into view.