Queen of Oblivion

by Giles Carwyn

  Arefaine huddled into a ball, trying to protect her chest, face, and throat. The crystals flayed her skin, pinning her against the side of the tower. She clung to Brydeon’s heartstone, desperate to outlast the storm because she finally knew what to do.

  She knew how to defeat Efflum.

  Shara sprinted up the steps, shouting at Brophy. He stood at the top, gripping the silver gates that barred the tower’s entrance, shaking them as he yelled. Beyond the gates, a storm raged inside the tower.

  “What’s happening?” she shouted above the roar.

  He turned, eyes wide. “Shara!” he shouted as she rushed into his arms. “You’ve got to help Arefaine,” he yelled into her ear. “He’s killing her.”

  Shara touched the gate, feeling the immense power raging on the other side.

  “What’s happening,” she shouted again.

  “Efflum’s escaped! I’ve got to get in there.”

  Shara shook her head. “If I open these doors, it will be the Nightmare Battle all over again.”

  “But we have to help her!”

  Shara stared through the gaps in the gate, trying to see past the swirling debris. A filthy, half-naked man stood in the center of the tower channeling an incredible amount of black emmeria. He flung it at Arefaine as she huddled against the wall. The poor girl was barely conscious.

  “By the Seasons!” Shara gasped. “How can she survive—” Her words were cut off as the filthy madman turned from Arefaine and flung his fury at the tower’s gates.

  A tremendous force slammed into the side of the tower, throwing Brophy backward. The silver vines turned black. The lock sagged outward, melting like wax.

  “No!” Shara shouted, rushing forward and throwing her shoulder against the gates. They clanged shut again. She threw her ani into the enchanted metal to bolster Arefaine’s spell.

  Efflum battered the gates again. The blow rebounded into Shara as if she’d been hit in the chest with a hammer. She cried out, sinking to her knees. Brophy caught her, lifting her back to her feet.

  “What happened?” he yelled in her ear.

  “Arefaine’s dying,” she yelled back. “She can’t hold the gate.”

  Forcing her clenched eyes open, Shara peered into the whirling storm. A dark silhouette rose up in front of her. Glowing eyes, wisps of black curly hair on a white scalp.

  “Let go of the door, child,” Efflum said. “Help me, and I will spare you.”

  Shara said nothing, concentrated on holding him in.

  “I’m going to ask you one more time to step aside,” Efflum said. “I have no desire to spill illuminated blood, but my patience is at an end.”

  Shara noticed something out of the corner of her eye, but turned away, forcing herself to meet Efflum’s gaze. Brophy shifted behind her, touching her hip. The Sword of Autumn slipped free of its scabbard. Arefaine had risen to her feet and was sneaking up behind Efflum.

  “You’ll spare our lives if I let you pass?” Shara asked.

  Efflum nodded.

  “Both of us?”

  He nodded again.

  Arefaine raised her hand to strike. Something glittered in her hand.

  Brophy leaped forward.

  He thrust the blade through the bars all the way to the hilt. Efflum leapt back. Right into Arefaine.

  She plunged a shard of red crystal into his back. Red and black light exploded in the heart of the tower. Efflum screamed.

  Shara turned away, blinded by the light. When she looked back, Efflum was stumbling backward, a gaping hole where his arm and shoulder used to be.

  He fell to his knees, clutching the wound. Muck sprayed the walls. Crystals hit the ground, shattering and skidding to a stop.

  “I’ll kill you all!” he screamed.

  As he spoke, the ragged ends of his torn flesh expanded and black emmeria flooded the wound, repairing the damage.

  Arefaine reached out two hands toward him. Shara felt a powerful shift in the ani as a faint bubble surrounded Efflum, barely visible. The howling black emmeria still raced inside the tower’s confines, but it flowed around Efflum like a river around a stone.

  Fighting at the pain in her head, Shara realized what Arefaine had done. There was a perfect sphere around Efflum, a void bereft of black emmeria.

  “It won’t save you,” Efflum cried, his voice thin. He turned, struggled to his feet. His half–re-formed arm hung limp at his side.

  Brophy put his hands on the bars. “What is she doing?” he asked.

  “Shielding him from the black emmeria,” Shara answered. “Starving him.”

  Brophy nodded. “She did that with me. In Oh’s cave. She took the black emmeria away from me.”

  Arefaine stood rigid in front of Efflum, all of her will bent on keeping him from his power source.

  “He can’t access the magical forms,” Shara said. “Zelani, Floani, Necani, any of them. They’re all based on being human, on being alive.”

  Gaping like a fish, Efflum shuffled toward Arefaine. She had her eyes clamped shut in her struggle. He reached out with his remaining hand and grappled at her throat.

  “Arefaine!” Brophy warned.

  “Shhhh,” Shara said, putting a hand on him. “She knows where he is. She can’t let the spell go.”

  “But he’s—”

  “Shhh!” Shara said fiercely, all her energy focused on keeping the damaged gates closed.

  Efflum lifted Arefaine off the ground and lurched toward the wall, slamming her against it.

  Brophy’s hands tightened on the bars.

  Arefaine tensed, but she didn’t fight back. Efflum squeezed as hard as he could, his chalky face contorting with the effort. Arefaine’s lacerated face turned red, but she kept her eyes closed. The bubble around her enemy did not waver.

  Slowly, she slid down the wall to her feet as Efflum’s strength flagged.

  “Coward,” he croaked as his arm gave out, and he collapsed against her. He fell to the ground as she backed away. “You traitor,” he gasped, crawling toward her with one arm. “Betrayed us all…” His muscles shrank as his body wasted away to bone, sinew, and papery skin. His eyes retracted into his skull, shriveling to sallow yellow raisins dangling in their sockets. “Illuminated blood grown so thin…” He tried to push himself forward, and his left hand crumbled away to powder. He looked at the stump of his arm in horror. Skin flaked off his face. His jaw broke loose on one side and fell away from his neck. He croaked something unintelligible.

  Arefaine opened her pale blue eyes. “Die,” she whispered.

  Efflum exploded in a silent puff of dust, and the bits drifted to the ground.

  Arefaine slumped to her knees, holding the bubble around the dust until it settled. Shara felt her release her spell. The dust was immediately swept away in the swirling storm.

  “Is he dead?” Brophy asked.

  Shara nodded. “He’s dead. He’s finally dead.”

  Brophy’s heart pounded in his chest as he called out to Arefaine, but she didn’t answer. The battered sorceress stayed on her knees, cradling her broken arm and sucking in breath after breath as the black emmeria shrieked around her. Her pale skin was scraped raw by the storm of crystal shards and she could barely hold herself upright.

  “Shara,” Brophy insisted, shaking the gate lightly. “You have to let us in.”

  “I can’t,” she replied. “I don’t think I could hold back that much black emmeria, even for a moment.”

  “She’s dying,” he insisted. “We have to get her out of there.”

  Shara looked at him, her lips curled in a little frown.

  “We have to try,” he said, taking her hand.

  Shara took a deep breath, wincing as she did, and then nodded. Brophy could feel the ani shift around him.

  Arefaine’s head jerked up. She pointed at the gates and the blackened silver began to glow. “No!” she croaked.

  “Arefaine—” Shara began.

  “No,” Arefaine said again, lurching forward.
“Not yet.”

  “What? What is she doing?” Brophy asked.

  Shara closed her eyes and yanked on the gates. “She’s locked them,” she said through gritted teeth.

  Arefaine limped toward the silver coffin.

  “He’s dead,” Brophy shouted. “Let us in.”

  Brophy watched in horror as the lid of the coffin slowly opened of its own accord. Arefaine knelt before it and put her hands on the edge.

  The sound of screaming rose to a crescendo and began spinning about the room. Arefaine raised her hands, and the howling began to focus and flow into the coffin. Screaming voices and blinding lights swirled into a little tornado that disappeared into the shadowed interior of the silver box. The voices grew louder and louder as they were concentrated. Brophy covered his ears, feeling like his skull would split. “What are you doing?” he screamed, unable to hear his own voice.

  And then the lid slammed shut. The tower was plunged into darkness and utter silence. The only thing Brophy could hear was the ringing in his own ears.

  Arefaine staggered forward, collapsing on top of the coffin.

  “Arefaine?” Brophy called.

  She hesitated for a moment before turning toward him. Her tangled hair hung in her face, but he could see her eyes in the darkness like pinpoints of glowing ice. A small smile crossed her face.

  “Brophy,” she breathed, as if she’d forgotten he was there.

  “You did it,” he said, his heart thumping against his chest as he reached through the gate, holding his hand out to her.

  “Not—” she said, breathing several times. “Not yet.”

  “Arefaine—”

  “Good-bye, Brophy.” She turned away from him and pressed her palms on the lid of the coffin, as though she would hold it shut with her weight. She reached into her sleeve and withdrew a tiny silver dagger.

  Brophy’s chest seized. “No!” he shouted. “Not this way! There’s another way!”

  “There is no other way,” she murmured, so softly he could barely hear her.

  “Shara, do something!” he said.

  “I’m trying!” Shara’s face was a tight mask of concentration as she held the bars, trying to undo Arefaine’s spell.

  Arefaine raised her arm, exposing her wrist. She placed the dagger against her skin and slowly drew it down. Blood spilled down her arm from palm to elbow. She switched the dagger to her other hand and grimaced as she sliced open her other wrist.

  Her blood poured onto the coffin. It gushed from her, soaking into the caked dirt and spilling onto the floor. Then the crimson splash began to bubble. It sizzled and dried. Flakes floated upward and disintegrated, turning into puffs of red smoke, and then rainbow lights.

  Arefaine slumped forward, spreading her body out on the coffin as her limbs shriveled, as if the searing-hot coffin were sucking all the water from her flesh.

  “Please, no,” Brophy said in a hoarse voice.

  Arefaine’s body curled in upon itself like burning paper, and then she was still. The rainbow lights swirled around her desiccated body and the coffin like a cocoon, closer and closer, and then joined with the silver surface. Waves of colors ran across the silver, back and forth, as if below the surface. The silver seemed to run molten, obliterating the seam between lid and coffin, making the thing whole.

  “Arefaine!” Brophy screamed, slamming himself against the doors. They gave way suddenly, and he stumbled into the room, falling to his knees.

  He lunged through the sludge until he reached the coffin. He reached out a trembling hand and touched her blackened, shriveled shoulder. Her entire body crumbled, turning to dust in his hands.

  Chapter 13

  Brophy!” Shara’s voice broke the silence. The tower rumbled ominously.

  He said nothing, and turned his face away from her, away from the coffin. Images swam through his mind. He remembered when he first saw Arefaine as a baby, cradled in Shara’s arms as she turned the handle of the music box. He thought of the first moment Arefaine had kissed him. He remembered the joy in their embrace when he finally found her on the tower stairs.

  He clenched his fist, needing to grab something, needing to hit something.

  “Why?” he shouted. “Why?”

  “No living person could hold that storm back forever,” Shara said, her hand on his shoulder. “Not even her.”

  Brophy pressed his palms against his eyes, shaking his head.

  A grinding sound, like two stones being rubbed together, echoed through the tower.

  “Brophy,” Shara said, her voice suddenly sharp. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

  He glanced up. The walls of the tower were crisscrossed by a spiderweb of cracks. The structure groaned and a small chunk of stone crashed to the ground next to him.

  Shara shook him. Brophy looked at her in a daze.

  “The tower is coming down!” she screamed as another plummeting rock shattered on the tower floor. “We have to get her out of here! Now!”

  Brophy jumped to his feet and grabbed hold of the coffin. He pushed with all his might, but it didn’t budge. He tried again, wondering why he was so weak. He tried to call on the anger, the bottomless well of rage that had fueled him for so long. But it was gone. The black emmeria was gone.

  Shara leapt to help him. Taking a deep breath, she grunted and drove her shoulder into the coffin. Together, they yanked it a scant foot through the sludge.

  A cracked stone smashed into the coffin. A chunk of wall crashed to the ground just behind him.

  “Go,” Shara yelled. “RUN!”

  Brophy spun and lunged for the door as broken masonry crumbled all around them. A chunk struck Shara on the head, knocking her down.

  “Shara!” Brophy ran back. Slipping in the sludge, he grabbed his lover and threw her over his shoulder. The tower ground and popped, sagging to the side, as the entranceway crumbled. Brophy weaved, barely avoiding a stone the size of a horse. Its impact exploded outward, and tiny bits of rock cut into him like knives.

  He leapt for the last sliver of daylight, bounced off a rock and spun around—

  —and he was out, tumbling onto the landing. Rolling to his feet, he raced down the stairs as the whole tower came down, silver and stone exploding outward, dust shooting upward into the sky.

  Shara coughed, lost in a billowing cloud of white dust. She struggled to sit up.

  “Are you all right?” Brophy asked.

  Shara nodded, reaching out, touching his face. They couldn’t see each other through all the billowing dust.

  The shocking reality of what had happened filled her.

  “The coffin,” Brophy said, as though reading her thoughts. “Could it survive—”

  A distant howling answered his question, and dread raced through her limbs like ice water. The two of them jumped to their feet.

  A stiff breeze blew away the swirling dust, giving Shara a brief glimpse of the collapsed tower. The keening wind grew louder and louder until—

  The rubble exploded, throwing silver chunks of stone into the sky. A spire of blue flame shot skyward and bloomed like a flower.

  Brophy knocked Shara sideways and threw himself over her body.

  Silver chunks of stone and twisted steel flew out of the blast, crashing into buildings, cracking the streets. A tornado of energy whirled upward, blue and black colors mixing, intertwining, fighting. The black grew and grew, and soon the blue was gone.

  “Come on!” Brophy shouted, hauling Shara to her feet.

  They raced down the street, but the wind caught them, spun them up, and tumbled them to the ground. Shara screamed denial as the shock wave hit her, tearing her from Brophy’s grasp. It swept them both along like fallen leaves. She winged out her arms, and her fingers found a crack between cobblestones. Gritting her teeth, she held herself against the storm. She felt the acid bites of the black emmeria on her arms, her face. The howling voices on the wind drowned out all sound. Everything around her turned black: streets, buildings, fountains,
walkways. The jungle withered and died. The air darkened as if the black emmeria had stained the very sky.

  Through the gray wind, Shara saw Brophy pinned against a wall across the street. His eyes were shut tight, and he held desperately to the Sword of Autumn as his face slowly turned black. The red light of his heartstone faded in the growing darkness.

  Shara let go and the wind blew her to him. She braced herself against the stone and grappled for his hand. The corruption was devouring them both, but she clung to the Sword of Autumn and together they fought the infection. With a shout, Shara thrust the black emmeria from Brophy’s body and formed a bubble of protection around the two of them, forcing the wind to either side. Arefaine had just given her life to keep this storm at bay, her life’s blood turning Oh’s coffin into a second Heartstone, but even her magic could not help a simple silver box survive that much falling stone. It was all for nothing, everything they had ever done, all for nothing.

  Brophy shouted, snapping Shara out of her daze, but she couldn’t hear what he said. He pointed toward the harbor, and she nodded.

  Shara didn’t know what hope there was, but she turned their sluggish feet toward the ocean, and they ran.

  The world had become a horror. Jungle trees twisted and blackened. Grass became writhing worms that bit at their shoes as they ran. Fern fronds became black whips, bent on snaring them.

  They skidded to a stop at the dock, and watched the dark storm spreading across the face of the ocean, racing toward the horizon.

  “It’s everywhere,” Shara said. “There’s nowhere to go.”

  Brophy squeezed her hand as they spun around, seeing the same devastation everywhere they looked.

  A sudden blinding light threw back the darkness. Shara spun around, looking north. A rainbow-colored dome rose out of the ocean like a bubble and expanded outward filling the horizon.

  “What is that?” Brophy yelled.

  “That was where the sea battle took place,” Shara said.

  Brophy nodded. “The Islanders,” he whispered.

  Shara gasped. “Light emmeria,” she said, recalling the Silver Islanders’ exploding weapons, remembering what one of those arrows had done to the corrupted Issefyn’s arm. “It has to be the light emmeria. Reef said they had a weapon to fight the emmeria, but they didn’t have enough.”