Endure

by Sara B. Larson

  Another massive boom shook the ground again, and then an even louder and more terrifying sound rent the air. I stared in shock as a section of the wall began to crumple to the ground in front of us, the stones and rocks collapsing in on themselves, sending an immense cloud of dust and debris into the air.

  A short time after the wall was demolished by the power of Armando’s sorcerers’ joint efforts, The Summoner came back to get me. The entire army was surging forward, toward the gaping hole. There was a massive pile of debris that still smoked in places, despite the rain, probably from sorcerer’s fire if I had to guess, but the men just climbed over it. The horses were another matter, and The Summoner led me toward a particular spot where the rubble had been lifted away, making a narrow path of flat ground for the horses to use.

  Before I knew it, we’d crossed into Antion, leaving Dansii behind us. I blinked hard when I saw Bikoro, the large city Eljin and I had avoided on our journey to Dansii.

  I’d forced myself to push the pain of his death to the back of my heart, with the rest of those I’d already lost, knowing I couldn’t afford to mourn him — not yet, not now. Just as I’d had to force myself to continue on when my parents died, just as I’d had to pretend I was fine after Marcel’s death. I knew how to shut it off, to do what I must to survive. But in that moment, as I stared at the now-abandoned city and the thick green line of the jungle stretching across the horizon in the distance, the sharp pain of his loss surged up, stabbing through me as though the barbs from the whip King Armando had framed in his library had somehow found their way inside of my body and were digging into my belly and lungs and heart.

  After passing through the destroyed wall, The Summoner grabbed my horse’s reins and tied them to his saddle as he usually did for the long treks during the day, rather than holding them. King Armando must have been very certain of his victory, if he was confident enough to tear down such a huge undertaking for the sole purpose of letting his men through faster. The army was rushing forward into the city, breaking into the closest homes and shops, pillaging for anything of value. The sounds of their destruction sent a spike of fury boiling through me. It was good that these families had fled, that they weren’t being killed by Armando’s army. But it still broke my heart to see their homes, their gardens and belongings, being torn apart, set on fire, or stolen.

  As we passed through the city, I made myself turn away to stare at the massive Naswais Mountains, which jutted up into the sky above the rooflines of Bikoro, far beyond the destruction I was being forced to witness. The peaks disappeared into the dark, roiling clouds of the storm that still spat rain down on us. In the distance, a lone bird of some sort circled in the sky, its wings spread wide, nearly touching the clouds. For a moment I imagined I was that bird, free to soar away from everything.

  Before long, the army had completely taken over the city, filling it like dark ants, with their black hoods pulled up against the rain. The Summoner rode to the end of the houses, where King Armando sat upon a massive black stallion. The horse’s nostrils were flared and he kept tossing his head, especially as we drew closer to him.

  “We will stay here tonight,” King Armando said in Antionese, for my benefit. “Let the men feast on their spoils and enjoy roofs over their heads.”

  The Summoner nodded. “They will enjoy that, Your Majesty.”

  The king laughed, a sound tinged with viciousness. “I don’t care if they enjoy it. I just need them full and rested, because tomorrow, we are burning down a jungle.”

  I forced myself to stay still, to not reveal my shock. “Your Majesty, there’s a road — just there.” I tilted my head toward the muddy path that wound away from Bikoro and on into the jungle, since I couldn’t lift my hands to point — the same road that would take them directly to Tubatse and the palace if they followed it long enough. “There’s no need to burn the jungle down.”

  King Armando’s gaze fell on me and he smiled, a cruel twist of his mouth. “Do you think I honestly care about protecting this horrific excuse for a kingdom? Why do you think I sent Hector to be king of this one, rather than letting him have Dansii, even though Antion is closer to Blevon?”

  I clenched my jaw, refusing to respond to him. It had been foolish of me to say anything to begin with. Now he would only be more determined to destroy Damian’s kingdom — my home — if only to make me suffer.

  “I let him fight the battles for me, to weaken Antion and Blevon, while I worked to create sorcerers who were powerful enough to accomplish my ultimate goal.”

  I thought about what Rylan had overheard — the rumors that he’d grown nervous and impatient because I’d killed some of his most powerful sorcerers. The ones he’d spent so long creating. Was that why he was suddenly moving forward now?

  “For years and years, I worked and waited,” he continued. “It takes time to destroy kingdoms, but I was patient. And now, finally, I will take what is mine.” His smile slid away and his voice turned cold. “We will burn it all.”

  I stared past him to the jungle. His black sorcerers could do it, with their unnatural fire. Even if I did escape, there was no way to stop him from destroying Antion.

  “Keep her with you,” the king said to The Summoner, brushing us off. “And make sure you get some rest tonight as well. I need you in the morning.”

  The Summoner nodded. “Yes, my king.” Then he turned his horse back toward the city, taking me with him.

  The Summoner found one of the bigger houses to stay in for the night. He released our horses in the fenced corral out back, letting them graze. The rolling expanse of grass was probably more green food than either of them had ever seen before. He dragged me inside, into one of the bedrooms with a large bed. The blankets had been removed, but the straw mattress remained. The Summoner forced me to lie down on the bed. He tied my arms above my head, to the hand-carved wooden headboard, then moved down my body to tie my feet to the bottom of the bed. I was forced to lie there on my back, staring at the ceiling for hours after he disappeared, listening to the rain plink against the rooftop above me, trying to distract myself from the pain in my hands and arms as the blood drained out of them by wondering what family had lived here. I imagined an entire scenario, a husband and wife, and their three children. They had a family horse, and the father would carve wooden toys for the children to play with. I forced myself to keep my mind walled into the pretend scenes, rather than letting myself think about Eljin or Rylan or Tanoori, or anyone else from Antion — especially not Damian.

  Sometime later, when the light outside the one window in the room had grown even darker than the dreary grayness that had lasted all day as the storm continued, The Summoner returned. He smelled of fire and blood as he came to stand over me, staring down at me tied to the bed like an offering.

  I turned my face away from him, trying to keep my pulse from speeding up in fear. I wouldn’t let him scare me. I was stronger than that.

  “Here,” he said at last, and when he touched my head, I jerked away from his touch. “Here,” he repeated angrily, grabbing my jaw and forcing my head toward him. When I saw the flagon he held, I stopped struggling and reluctantly allowed him to help me drink.

  The water sloshed in my empty stomach, making it cramp. “I need more than water to live, you know,” I said quietly.

  He ignored me, standing up and walking out of the room again.

  A short time later, the door creaked open again and I stiffened, but when Akio crept in, I relaxed slightly — though I glanced past him in alarm. Where had The Summoner gone, and how soon would he return?

  Akio hurried to my side and lifted my head so I could eat the roll he’d brought me.

  “There are soldiers still up celebrating in the streets. Wait until it’s been dark for many hours and the noises outside have ceased. Then tell The Summoner you need to go outside to relieve yourself.” Akio spoke in a rush as I chewed. “I’ll wait outside, behind the home. When you come out, I will attack him, and you must take one o
f the horses and flee. It will be your only chance to escape.”

  I nearly choked on the last bite of my roll; my eyes widened in shock. “Why are you doing this — why are you helping me?”

  Akio glanced over his shoulder, his entire body tense, prepared to flee. When the house remained quiet, he glanced back at me, his dark eyes sad. “I was born in Blevon. I trained to be a sorcerer there. But my father … he was greedy. He’d heard rumors of greater power in Dansii. He convinced himself that the Blevonese leaders were lying to us — to keep us from becoming stronger. He hated the Rén Zhsas, mostly because he was jealous of their enormous power. He forced us to sneak through Antion and go to Dansii. He offered our family to the king in return for his help in making him more powerful. Armando agreed, taking my mother and sister and forcing them to become servants in his palace. Since I was a sorcerer, I was allowed to come with my father when he made his first sacrifice, to transform himself into a black sorcerer. Instead, he became Dish.” Akio spoke quickly, his voice low with grief and pain. “He was dead, but not dead. Alive, but not alive. I had to stab him in the heart, to release his body from what he’d done. But his spirit will be cursed forever because of his greed.”

  I could do nothing but stare at him as he told me his story, unable to move my hands or reach out to him. I couldn’t imagine what he’d been through because of his father.

  “Armando refused to let us leave when I begged him to release us from my father’s bargain. We knew too much. So I was forced to become a healer for him. I refused to try his experiments, and he left me alone after what happened to my father. He told me that Blevonese sorcerers couldn’t handle the change because we were weaker than Dansiian sorcerers. He claims that a Dansiian king actually discovered the golden waters hidden in the mountains of Blevon when he was visiting his friend, the king of Blevon. Dansiians believe that their king is the one who was first made a sorcerer, and that the Blevonese king was jealous when he discovered what had happened and went to drink some for himself, but because he and his brother drank second, they became weaker sorcerers, unable to tolerate the greater power gifted to the Dansiians by the Gods of the Underworld.”

  “The demons,” I said quietly.

  “Yes.” Akio glanced over his shoulder again. “I don’t know why the Dansiian sorcerers don’t suffer the same fate we do, but I know their story is false.” He paused as if considering, then rushed on. “Do you know why The Summoner is able to do the things he can do?”

  I shook my head.

  “He was a black sorcerer already, but he wanted even greater power. He sacrificed his own parents to the demons. He made his brother, who wasn’t a sorcerer at all, help him. They were given their powers in return for their horrible deed.”

  My mouth fell open as a wave of horror washed over me. Their own parents? For power? The water The Summoner had given me felt like poison in my stomach.

  “The Duke of Montklief sacrificed his own children to the king, to be used as experiments, and they were given their terrible power to control others’ minds because of it. The demons reward sacrifice with power. But the twins are not all-powerful, as they believe. Their powers only last for a time on true sorcerers’ minds. After a few days, sorcerers can break through the twins’ hold on them unless they repeat the command.”

  “But a regular person like me?” I asked, my stomach sinking, already knowing the answer.

  “It’s permanent. Unless the twin dies or rescinds it.”

  Which meant I had no hope of breaking through Rafe’s control on my mind — his command that I couldn’t hurt him and had to defend him if he was in danger. But it did explain why Damian had been able to fight through Vera’s control on his mind.

  Akio tensed as though he’d heard something. “I’ve stayed too long; I have to go. He could return at any moment.” He hurried toward the door.

  “Wait — you still haven’t told me why you are helping me.”

  He paused and turned back to me. “Because my mother told me she believes all this — all the pain and suffering — had a purpose. I’ve prayed to the Unseen Power I learned about in Sì Miào Chán Wù before we came to Dansii to understand what purpose I could possibly serve, and I was told that there would come a time when I would be able to help save my people from destruction. I believe Armando’s father. I believe you are the one no sorcerer will be able to stop — I believe you are the one who can help my people defeat Armando. That’s why I’m helping you.”

  And then he slipped away into the darkness of the home, leaving me to wait for The Summoner to return and for the hours to pass until the soldiers had finally all gone to sleep, so that I could try to escape.

  When The Summoner returned again, shortly after Akio had left, he looked angry.

  “Why aren’t you sleeping?” he bit out at me.

  I didn’t respond, watching him warily as he moved toward the bed where I was tied up. The sounds of celebration outside the home were beginning to die down as nighttime swallowed up the daylight completely.

  “I must rest, as you heard. I have a big day tomorrow.”

  He walked around the bed and then stretched out beside me, only a foot away from my body. The unnatural chill in the air from his presence grew even more pronounced by his proximity. I inhaled sharply, terror and disgust roiling through my body. Akio’s words repeated over and over in my mind. He had the powers that he did because he’d sacrificed his own parents — killed them, with Manu’s help.

  I lay there stiffly for what felt like hours, waiting for the soft snores I’d become accustomed to, but they never came. My arms ached from being forced to remain above my head for so long, and I was afraid my numb hands would be completely useless because they’d been bloodless for so long. The roll Akio had given me had quelled my hunger a bit, but not enough to give me the strength I’d need if I had to fight The Summoner. I’d seen what Manu was capable of — how the vial of crimson fluid had exploded into a cloud that made us see our own worst fears, allowing him to kill at will. What could The Summoner do if provoked — the one who was already a sorcerer and had orchestrated the sacrifice, not just aided in it?

  As the hours passed, I grew more and more alarmed and tense. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore.

  “I need you to take me outside,” I said into the silent night. The rain had let up shortly after he’d come back into the room, and the white glow of moonlight chased the shadows of the clouds across the walls as the storm broke apart above us.

  When he didn’t respond right away, I repeated myself. “I need to go outside to relieve myself. The water you gave me … It can’t wait.”

  He still didn’t say anything, so I hazarded a glance toward him, only to find him lying on his side, staring at me, his eyes wide open. I swallowed a scream of terror and jerked my head back.

  “No,” he whispered, his voice silky.

  Sudden terror clawed at my chest as he slowly sat up and inched closer to me. I struggled against the ropes that held me in place, futilely yanking to free myself.

  The Summoner lifted one hand to stroke my cheek, and I choked down a sob of desperation as I jerked my head away. Akio, I begged in my mind. Akio, save me, please. There was nothing I could do to stop him, not with my feet and hands tied. The only weapon I had was my teeth.

  “You have fire in you. Different fire than I or the sorcerers I create have. Your blood isn’t working, but the king won’t admit it. Even though I killed one of his sorcerers today to prove I am right.” As The Summoner spoke, he suddenly rolled to his knees and moved so that he straddled my body, his hands on my arms, pressing them down into the bed. Despite the uselessness of it, I continued to struggle against him. “Maybe if I take you, I will be able to claim your fire for myself. Then I, and I alone, will be invincible.”

  “No,” I screamed when he bent toward me, thrashing violently, my mind racing for some way to stop him, to protect myself. “Stop! Help me!” I screamed again, but he just grinned, a horrible flas
h of teeth in the moonlight.

  He lifted one hand from my arm and reached back into his robe. “I will sacrifice you to my Maker and become the most powerful being to ever walk upon the soil of this world.” And then he pulled out the device he’d been using to torture me. The metal glinted in his hand.

  He was going to kill me, I realized.

  “But perhaps, I should indulge first. The fear in your eyes is quite delicious, I must say. The taste of it on your body would be intoxicating.” He bent toward me again, and though I screamed and thrashed, he was able to reach my face, to lick my unscarred jaw. I slammed my head forward with a satisfying crack against his. The pain was worth the shock on his face as he jerked back with a sharp yelp.

  “Enough,” he growled, and then he climbed off me to stand next to the bed. He lifted his hand and used the device to cut a thin line across his own palm, so that his blood bubbled up. And then he turned it so the blood dripped to the floor. I continued to yank on the ropes, tearing my skin and making myself bleed in my desperation to escape.

  “Help!” I screamed again, hoping Akio would hear me.

  The Summoner closed his eyes and let his head drop back. When he snapped it forward again, his eyes flared blood-red. Just as a stream of flames burst from his hand to light the crimson line on the floor beside us on fire, the window shattered, and Akio leaped into the room.

  The Summoner’s head swiveled toward Akio, and a malicious grin lit his face. He turned his palm toward Akio, sending the stream of flames at my only ally.

  “Akio!” I screamed, but he threw himself to the floor, rolling quickly toward the bed. The Summoner had forgotten about the fire behind him when he attacked Akio, and when I glanced at him, he’d stepped backward toward the flames. His robes caught fire, and he spun around in shock.