by Brandon Mull
One globe remained.
Through the smoke, Nedwin saw Copernum scrambling away, his body bleeding and blackened. Dolan was dead. The grand duke was dead. Dozens of other traitors had perished.
“Wait, Nedwin!” Copernum cried, holding up a hand. His stunned eyes were desperate. Flecks of food had spattered his face and clothes. Splintered pieces of the table protruded from his body. “Wait! Kill me and Galloran dies. I have vital information!”
Nedwin shook his head. “Galloran has had enough of your help.”
He threw the final sphere so that it shattered against the floor beside the disloyal chancellor. The glaring explosion did the rest.
Feeling oddly disconnected from himself, Nedwin looked around. The smoky room was still. Everyone had fled, had died, or was feigning death. He had succeeded. He had unnaturally extended his life for a purpose, and the task had been accomplished. The realization brought profound relief.
Just to be sure, Nedwin checked a few ragged pieces of his former torturer. After all, he was a displacer. But it was no trick. Copernum was not temporarily disassembled. He was extremely dead.
“You’re even deader than I am,” Nedwin mumbled.
How soon before more guards came after him? Any minute. The thunder of the orantium would summon soldiers from all over the castle. Some of the guards might want to hesitate. They would hear what had happened from the survivors. They did not know he was out of orantium. And he was supposed to be dead. But not knowing that their leader had perished, they would also fear his wrath if they failed to act.
Nedwin walked toward the fire that still blazed in the hearth. He had deliberately not disturbed it with his barrage of orantium. He needed that fire.
Nedwin glanced at the secret passage. The dining hall remained still. He might be able to sneak away.
No. He had been fortunate. He had not only eliminated Copernum, but he had executed most, if not all, of the men capable of taking his place. Without the might of the giants, without treacherous nobles orchestrating the occupation, another revolution was inevitable. Justice had been served. The traitors had been punished. When Galloran returned, he would find allies running Trensicourt, not enemies.
Shuffling forward, Nedwin accepted that he would never see Galloran again. He would not be here to welcome his master home. But stories of this night would be everywhere. Galloran would find that his former squire had held true to the end, and that meant everything.
Nedwin paused near the hearth. The bright flames hurt his eyes. The warmth bothered his skin. Every instinct screamed for him to withdraw.
What if Galloran failed? What if the king never returned to his kingdom? If Maldor emerged victorious, Nedwin could unleash the plague and spoil the victory. Nedwin reconsidered a hasty escape. He thought about weeks of hiding, feeding on animals, waiting for news.
No. Too much could go wrong. For now, he felt certain that no worms had escaped his body. He had to keep it that way. He had to trust Galloran. But what if Maldor won? Nedwin bowed his head. He had no right to destroy the world. He had served Galloran to the best of his abilities. He must not sully his sacrifice. Bringing the worms out of Ebera had been his responsibility. Galloran had never authorized it. Every moment that Nedwin survived increased the risk of an accidental infection. The worms had to burn, which meant he had to burn with them.
It had been many years since Nedwin had feared death. He did not fear it now. The fire was not appealing. The blood promised fulfillment. He could smell it everywhere. The fire promised misery. He heard footfalls. Guards were coming. They were too late. Nedwin threw himself into the fire, squirming until he was settled at the heart of the flaming logs.
Everything inside him recoiled. Every instinct screamed that he must flee. He was not in pain. The worms, maybe—not him. The fire was everywhere. Warm, not hot. It had seemed bright and horrible, but now he found it almost relaxing. He smelled it consuming him. His eyes were closed. He was not dying. He was already dead. This was just the end of his worn-out body. He had stayed sane through it all. Sane enough, at least. He had done his duty. He felt certain that Galloran would be proud of him, and the thought gave him comfort. He could no longer smell the burning. He could no longer hear the logs crackling. His hardships had ended. No pain would haunt this slumber. At long last, Nedwin rested.
CHAPTER 34
BEYONDERS
It was a long wait before Maldor arrived.
At first the emperor sent servants. But no conscriptors or displacers were willing to enter the shadowy room to retrieve Rachel. Not while she stood ringed by torivors. She had listened as her enemies had discussed the predicament. They were afraid of the emperor’s displeasure. They were eager for his approval. But every single one of them was more afraid of the lurkers. None of them even crossed the threshold.
Rachel would have lost track of time, but the lurkers kept her informed. Their negotiations had been concluded for hours. She did not engage them in casual conversation. According to the lurkers, the sun was already well above the horizon when Maldor appeared in the doorway.
He looked more like the smug gentleman who had visited her dream. He no longer appeared weary or infirm. No evidence remained of the facial paralysis. He wore dark, regal attire. The Myrkstone glittered against his chest.
Rachel wrung her hands. She was nearly out of time. This would be her only chance. She had to get it right.
“Such foolishness,” Maldor fussed amiably. “You have placed yourself in grave danger, Rachel. Come out of there.”
“I’m very comfortable,” Rachel said from within her protective ring of torivors. “Could you have my bed brought here? And maybe some food?”
A torch in his hand, Maldor stared at her patiently. He did not cross the threshold. “I am impressed that you accessed this chamber. Getting past the guards required talent, but tearing out the door exceeded my expectations. The portal and the walls were all reinforced with Edomic.”
Rachel was glad for the information. It confirmed that she had turned the stone to glass even though it had been enchanted. “I was determined.”
“Why? Have you any notion of the peril you face? Inside that room I cannot hold the torivors in check.”
“Do I look worried?” Rachel asked. “I have a lot in common with the torivors. We communicate with our minds. We’re here against our will. And none of us belong to this world. We’re all Beyonders.”
Maldor chuckled condescendingly. “You have very little in common with them, Rachel. If you have let them convince you otherwise, there may already be no rescuing you. These are no frightened prisoners. You are among caged predators who would tear this world to shreds if given the chance. If you come out of there immediately, I may still be able to save you.”
“They’re not harming me,” Rachel said.
“No matter what you imagine, Rachel, they are using you. Make no sudden movements. Walk to me slowly.”
“No. I trust you less than I trust them.”
“I’m sorry for the discomfort you suffered while trying to slay me,” Maldor said. “You wield surprising power for one so young. I defended myself as gently as the circumstances permitted.”
“You want to turn me into a freak, complete with displacer parts and a magic word that can destroy me.”
Maldor raised his palms. “You are loyal to the losing side. You have not disguised the fact that you are my enemy and that you would harm me if you could. As much as I admire your talent and wish to see it increase, I must take measures to protect myself. Considering the circumstances, I believe I have been both generous and understanding. That will cease if you do not come out of there.”
“What if I refuse?”
Maldor fingered his Myrkstone pendant. “I will order one of them to bring you to me. And then for the first time you will truly experience my displeasure.”
“I’d like to see you try,” Rachel said. “They don’t have to obey your commands. Zokar was a different story. You don�
�t have the same power over them. You can cause them suffering, and you can hold them bound until they fulfill their covenant, but the torivors are free to resist your demands. They can make you suffer too.”
Maldor was no longer trying to appear kindly. “How dare you defy me in my own castle? Do you know where your brave Galloran is at the moment? Running. Fleeing with his pathetic host. My forces are pouring into the valley. They are currently reclaiming the empty keeps and mustering around Felrook, awaiting my orders. Your comrades cannot run for long. At my leisure it will be a simple matter to cut off all escape and destroy them to the last man.”
“You think so?” Rachel asked.
“This is absurd. I have no need for a torivor to expel you. I need only deny you food and water and watch as you waste away. I will bring you the heads of the friends you might have saved had you been more cooperative.”
“Wait,” Rachel said. “Would you still spare ten of my friends?”
He gave her a flat stare. “I would if you provide the opportunity. Your comrades are running out of time. Even I cannot restore the dead to life.”
Rachel hung her head, hoping she looked defeated. “I’m afraid to come out. You humiliated me. You hurt my mind; you hurt my body; you crushed my hope. You wounded my faith in my magic. I wasn’t trying to anger you by coming to the lurkers. I just wanted to find a place where you couldn’t touch me. A place where I didn’t feel powerless. This was what I came up with.”
Maldor’s expression softened a degree. “An innovative option, but any kinship you have imagined between yourself and the torivors can only be based on a horrible misunderstanding of their natures. I mistrust this penitent charade, Rachel, but if you come out of there voluntarily, I pledge to forgive you. The cause you fought for is lost. Your people are on the run. The last rebellion has been crushed. It is time for you to choose a new cause. You fear what Lyrian will become under my rule? I offer you the position and power necessary to influence change. We need not be enemies. Come, Rachel, do not tarry in the shadows.”
“Will we be alone? I want to talk more.”
Maldor turned and made a gesture. “We will be alone.”
“You’ll still save ten of my friends?”
“If you emerge and provide the names, I will do everything in my considerable power to spare your favorites.”
I will go to him now, Rachel conveyed to the torivors.
The tenebrous figures stepped out of her way.
“Will you back away?” Rachel asked. “You frighten me.”
“Will you emerge if I depart?” Maldor asked.
“Don’t leave,” Rachel said, her voice quavering. “I want to talk. Just give me some space. I’m having a very hard day.”
“Understood,” Maldor said, backing down the hall.
Rachel walked forward to the threshold. She hesitated, waiting until he had retreated a good distance down the corridor. “Are you going to attack me with Edomic?”
“Not unless you attack me,” Maldor said.
“I don’t want to ever attack you again,” Rachel said, stepping across the threshold. “But I do want to show you a command somebody taught me.”
“Who?”
“Orruck.”
His eyes widened.
Her mind felt clear. She had prepared for this moment for hours. Really, she had prepared for this moment ever since arriving in Lyrian. She had prepared by discovering her talent for Edomic. She had prepared with long hours of practice at Mianamon and elsewhere. Her will had been strengthened by those she had loved and lost. Her will had been reinforced through the stalwart examples of heroes like Galloran and those who served him. Her resolve had increased as she beheld the evil that Maldor represented. Her faith had been armored by the prophecy Jason had retrieved. Even her recent failure to defeat Maldor had helped her prepare.
Without pause Rachel put everything into the command. Her life depended on this moment. It was not hard to muster genuine emotion. All her fear, anger, and grief. All her hope, faith, and love. Her desire to live. All the strength of will that she could summon.
She focused on Maldor’s pendant and uttered the command that would change stone to glass.
She felt the command succeed.
Maldor stared down in bewildered surprise.
The altered Myrkstone had a slightly different sparkle, but she could still sense power in it. Rachel had known the transformation alone might not be enough. She was ready.
Issuing suggestions in rapid succession, Rachel urged Maldor to lie down, to sleep, to run, to jump, to turn around, and to be silent. After he had almost obeyed her during their duel, Maldor had used that tactic on her, confusing her with multiple instructions. She knew that she was sharing the suggestions with greater subtlety and expertise than ever before.
Rachel saw Maldor struggling to resist her suggestions, but she did not pause to relish his temporary indecision. Raising her voice, using commands taught to her by Chandra, commands Orruck had forced her to practice in his presence, Rachel lifted the pendant off Maldor, slipping the chain over his head and into the air, then smashed it down to the floor.
The Myrkstone shattered.
Its quiet aura of power dissipated.
Recovering from the brief befuddlement of her suggestions, Maldor gaped at the particles and slivers of broken glass on the floor. Furious eyes found Rachel.
He barked a vicious command, drawing massive amounts of heat to her clothes.
Calmly, certainly, Rachel uttered the command he had used to disperse her fire attack. She had only heard the words once, but she had always been a quick study. Maldor crumpled as his command failed, clutching his stomach as he gagged and retched.
From his hands and knees, he glared at Rachel with enraged, bloodshot eyes. Then his expression changed, the fury melting into a terrified realization. Maldor was no longer staring at Rachel. He was looking over her shoulder.
She turned and saw a lurker emerging from the dark chamber, as agreed, a sleek sword held in each hand. The lurker silently walked past her and tossed one of the weapons to Maldor. The emperor dodged aside, letting the sword ring against the stone floor. The lurker continued toward him unhurried.
Paying no heed to Rachel, Maldor looked from the lurker to the sword on the floor. Extending a hand, Maldor issued an Edomic suggestion, telling the lurker to impale itself. Rachel could sense that in his desperation he was pushing much too hard. When the command failed, the emperor dropped to the floor and vomited.
The lurker kept approaching with measured, fluid strides. Wiping his lips, Maldor looked up, crazed eyes full of terror. The lurker had almost reached him. The emperor raised both hands, palms outward, his lips moving hastily.
The blade sliced down on a trajectory to divide Maldor’s head from his shoulders, but glanced away before reaching him. The torivor kept swinging. A barrage of potentially lethal strokes bounced aside as the sword struck a thin dome of energy that only flashed into view on impact. Each time the blade connected with the barrier, the dome gleamed blue white before fading from view.
The lurker kept swinging without hesitation. Maldor kept his palms raised, his expression concerned but determined, his gaze fixed on the lurker.
Rachel had expected the torivor to slay Maldor. But at least for the moment he was trapped. A brief, hysterical laugh escaped before her hands covered her mouth, tears warping her vision. Had she really done it? Would this hold him? Was she really going to live?
Maldor showed no sign of escaping. Blows rained down without interruption. The emperor didn’t even glance her way.
Lurkers flooded from the chamber. Three stopped beside Rachel.
Well done, one of them conveyed.
Likewise, Rachel answered, struggling to regain her composure. What will happen to Maldor?
The attacker will not relent, the lurker pledged. The defensive effort is taxing Maldor. He cannot hold out indefinitely. Escape is unlikely.
You’ll fulfill the res
t of our agreement? Rachel checked.
We cannot lie, the lurker responded.
Then take me to Galloran.
CHAPTER 34
BEYONDERS
It was a long wait before Maldor arrived.
At first the emperor sent servants. But no conscriptors or displacers were willing to enter the shadowy room to retrieve Rachel. Not while she stood ringed by torivors. She had listened as her enemies had discussed the predicament. They were afraid of the emperor’s displeasure. They were eager for his approval. But every single one of them was more afraid of the lurkers. None of them even crossed the threshold.
Rachel would have lost track of time, but the lurkers kept her informed. Their negotiations had been concluded for hours. She did not engage them in casual conversation. According to the lurkers, the sun was already well above the horizon when Maldor appeared in the doorway.
He looked more like the smug gentleman who had visited her dream. He no longer appeared weary or infirm. No evidence remained of the facial paralysis. He wore dark, regal attire. The Myrkstone glittered against his chest.
Rachel wrung her hands. She was nearly out of time. This would be her only chance. She had to get it right.
“Such foolishness,” Maldor fussed amiably. “You have placed yourself in grave danger, Rachel. Come out of there.”
“I’m very comfortable,” Rachel said from within her protective ring of torivors. “Could you have my bed brought here? And maybe some food?”
A torch in his hand, Maldor stared at her patiently. He did not cross the threshold. “I am impressed that you accessed this chamber. Getting past the guards required talent, but tearing out the door exceeded my expectations. The portal and the walls were all reinforced with Edomic.”
Rachel was glad for the information. It confirmed that she had turned the stone to glass even though it had been enchanted. “I was determined.”