“It’s feeding on the energy,” Farrell said. “Turn off your defenses!”
Lingum stood mesmerized by the sight. “What?”
“Turn the defenses off. We’re making it stronger!” Getting another blank look, Farrell found the spell and deactivated everything.
Blasting the creature wouldn’t work, so Farrell considered his options. Had he time, he’d have woven a spell to siphon off its energy. But that required he go down onto the plaza, so he held that for a last resort.
“This creature came from the priestess. Can you and your brothers counter it?”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Lingum said.
“Invoke Falcron’s will to protect yourselves and the temple?”
“How?”
“I don’t know!” Farrell had to rein in his frustration. The creature slowed its advance as if waiting for more energy. “You’re the priests. This is your domain.”
“It’s not as easy as you make it sound.” Lingum motioned the wizard-priests forward. “Can you do something to stop that? Magic mixed with divine intervention?”
Father Rabart glanced at his fellows and shook his head. “I believe it will only make the creature stronger. It seems improbable that our being priests would alter the energy in a way that the creature couldn’t consume it.”
Nodding his agreement, Farrell cast a different spell. The energy needed was minimal so even if it failed he wouldn’t strengthen the creature much. He tapped his staff and sent a nearly translucent bubble toward their enemy. The orb struck the creature and popped.
“What did you do?” Rabart asked.
Farrell held up his hand to concentrate. A ripple went through the golden light, dimming the intensity. A moment later, the aura returned to its prior strength.
“That did something,” Lingum said.
Farrell saw no lasting effect. “But only briefly.”
“What did you do, Chosen?”
“I tried to unmake it,” he said. “The spell absorbs energy, but it works best when it’s laid out and bound to something, like the ground or a wall. It worked at first, but that thing is able to reabsorb faster than my spell can siphon it off. Eventually it absorbed the energy from the spell.”
“Can you teach me that spell?” Rabart asked. “Perhaps if several of us hit it at the same time with that spell it will work.”
Farrell nodded. “That might work. I wish Kel—”
“That Kel what, Chosen?” Rabart asked.
“A moment, please.” Farrell stared at the creature. “Grandfather? I need you.”
“What’s wrong?” Kel asked. Though spoken calmly, Farrell heard the concern.
“A priestess of Neldin released a creature. It absorbs our attacks. I’ve no idea what it is or how to defeat it.”
“Show me!”
The urgency in Kel’s command compelled Farrell to open his mind to his grandfather. Kel entered his thoughts like a bull through a fence.
“Brakken,” Kel said. Farrell spoke the word out loud and realized Kel had taken control of his voice.
“What?” Lingum asked.
“The creature is called a Brakken,” Kel said, using Farrell’s voice. “This is Kel speaking. We encountered them at Trellham during the Great War.”
“Can I have my mind back?” Farrell didn’t hide his annoyance at the breach of trust his grandfather perpetrated.
“No,” Kel said. “There isn’t time to teach you how to defeat it or reach you to deal with it myself.”
Farrell tamped down his anger. He considered forcing his grandfather out, but Kel wasn’t one to panic, and there was fear in his words.
“I apologize for my actions, but this is that serious.”
“Understood.” Farrell lowered all resistance and gave Kel full control.
“Father Lingum.” A moment of disorientation occurred when he heard “himself” speak. “This is still Kel. I need your full cooperation without hesitation. Your life and everyone in this city depend on it.”
Lingum, shaken, stiffened his back and he nodded. “Tell me.”
“The creature you see is a Brakken, a spark of dark life from Neblor. During the Great War, Neldin gave these to his clerics. As you may have surmised, it feeds off life energy and magic.”
“How do we fight it?” Lingum asked.
“Together,” Kel said. “It requires both of us.”
Lingum’s commanding presence returned. “What do you need from me?”
In complete control, Kel (in Farrell’s body) started down the steps. “Come with me. We must act quickly. If it learns how to feed off the dormant spells, it will be much harder to dispatch.”
Even possessed by Kel, Farrell heard the roar of a massive amount of dark magic being worked. The energy came from the Brakken, and it spread across the open plaza. Almost as one, the mob grew rigid. Some screamed before their agony was choked off. It was the first time Farrell had seen people turned into Chamdon.
“Blast it to the Eight Gates of Neblor!” Farrell nearly chided his grandfather for his curse, but Neblor no longer needed to be invited. “Lingum! Keep your soldiers where they are until we are done.”
“Remain where you are!” Lingum shouted over his shoulder.
“This is far enough,” Kel said. “Give me your hand.”
Distantly Farrell felt Lingum grab his hand. It was like a dream, not being in control of his body. Even trapped inside his mind felt more real than this.
“Invoke Falcron’s will as I cast my spell,” Kel said. “Together, it will unmake the beast.”
Before Kel cast the spell, a powerful blast hit Farrell’s shield.
“By the Six,” Kel said. “It has gathered enough strength to attack us!”
Farrell felt Kel struggle to maintain his presence in Farrell’s mind, keep the shield in place, and cast the spell. Gently, Farrell exerted his presence enough to maintain the shields. Rather than rebuke him, Kel ceded control of their defenses to Farrell.
Twice the creature rocked them, but disassociated from his body, Farrell focused solely on maintaining the shield. The wizard attacked as well, but neither he nor the Brakken threatened Farrell’s protection.
At the edge of his consciousness, Farrell watched Kel cast an incredibly complex spell. Lingum—or perhaps it was Falcron—hovered in the background as well. Finally Kel released his will, and the spell sped toward the Brakken. He also exited from Farrell’s consciousness.
All Farrell’s senses returned at once. The shock nearly cost him control of his shield. He closed his eyes and bore down. If he slipped, both he and Lingum would be vulnerable.
“Great Holy Falcron!”
Farrell opened his eyes when Lingum swore. The Brakken no longer glowed as bright. The energy looked sickly instead of vibrant and alive. It shook and struggled to move forward. Whatever Kel had done, it had disrupted the creature and his handlers.
“Grandfather, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Kel sounded tired. “Concentrate on what is before you, and we will speak later.”
“Kel?” Lingum said. “What did we do?”
“Kel has left, Father,” Farrell answered. “And I don’t know exactly what he did.”
The priestess placed her hand on the wizard’s staff as he pointed it at the struggling Brakken. Dark green energy surged across the space and struck the creature.
“Grandfather, they just fed the Brakken more energy.”
“Excellent!” Kel response surprised Farrell. “Clearly they don’t remember the lessons of Trellham.”
For a moment the Brakken’s color brightened and became sharper. It raised its foot, but its leg locked and shook violently. Meglar’s wizard kept feeding it energy without effect. The Brakken teetered forward a bit, and the wizard sent even more energy to toward it. That last effort toppled the creature. It crashed onto the ground and shattered in a brilliant flash. All that remained was a small, round ball of light that pulsed twice and exploded with a small pop
.
“No!” the priestess screamed.
She tried to rush forward, but the wizard held her back. He said something to her, but Farrell couldn’t hear it. She sent an angry glare toward the temple and whispered something. Farrell didn’t need to hear it to know what she said.
A shout reverberated around the square, and Chamdon rushed from every opening. They surged forward and headed for the temple.
“Father, we must get to them before they flee.” He pointed toward the priestess and wizard.
“What?” Lingum asked. “Those things are rushing the temple. We can’t leave now.”
“If they escape, they’ll be back with the Six only knows what. We must eliminate them.” Farrell held Lingum’s gaze. “I can get us there, but I can’t kill the priestess. I need you for that.”
“Kill her?” Lingum recoiled from Farrell. “I’m not going to kill her.”
“You must,” Farrell said firmly. He couldn’t force Lingum, but he had to make him see the need. “She means to kill you and every priest in the temple. Then she’ll turn on the other temples. She’s as dangerous as the wizard, maybe more so. She controlled the Brakken, and she controls the Chamdon. She’s that dangerous.”
Lingum opened his mouth to reply, but a sustained yell from the approaching creatures stopped him.
Farrell reached out and reengaged the defenses. “The spells are back on,” he said.
The priestess tugged at the wizard’s sleeve, and the pair retreated.
“We need to go, now.”
“How are we going to reach them?” Lingum pointed toward the square. “Between our defense and their army, we’ll be killed within seconds.”
“I can get us there.” He fired a pair of red energy balls at the fleeing pair. “Give me your hand or else they’ll escape.”
Lingum extended his arm and flinched when Farrell touched him. They rose off the steps and flew toward the wizard and priestess.
“What in the . . .?” Lingum shouted as they soared over the heads of the Chamdon.
A second later the area in front of the temple erupted in a storm of energy blasts, fire, missiles, liquids, and death. Dozens of Chamdon were mowed down before they reached the main steps.
Farrell scanned the crowd and found his targets running toward an empty street. He pointed his staff and sent several globes of energy toward them. The wizard turned to defend himself and his companion, but Farrell’s attack sailed over their heads. The man followed the flight of the energy balls as they exploded in front of the street Farrell assumed they planned to use.
A wall of blue energy barred the street when the pair arrived. The wizard raised his staff and fired. The red energy from his staff washed away against the shimmering wall that blocked his path. Before he tried again, the priestess placed her hand on his staff. This time the fire had a deeper shade and sizzled more intensely.
For a long moment the blue held against the sickly red. Finally it shattered in a blast of brilliant light. The explosion forced the pair to shield their eyes. When they looked at the mouth of the street, they both screamed in frustration. A green energy wall had replaced the blue.
The pair aggressively assailed the new impediment without checking on Farrell and Lingum. Farrell used their distraction to attack their shields. The blue energy rocked the shimmering wall and disrupted their efforts.
“There are three more behind the green.” He brought himself and Lingum to the ground fifteen feet behind their foes.
“Why do you taunt them?” Lingum whispered. “Did no one teach you not to provoke a caged animal?”
“Watch.” Farrell strengthened the shields protecting them.
The pair continued to fire on the green wall and then spun around and leveled a blast at Farrell and Lingum. The energy struck the shield and spread out, but never threatened the integrity of their defenses.
“Stay with me,” Farrell said to Lingum. “And keep in contact with me like she is with him. I need you to counter her.”
Lingum nodded and squeezed Farrell’s hand a bit tighter. A second, stronger attack struck, but Farrell’s shield turned a pale blue. The black-and-red energy burned up this time. Lingum gasped but didn’t let go.
Farrell kept his gaze on their enemy. “Stay focused, Father. You are the high priest of Falcron. Trust in your superior will.”
Lingum closed his eyes and began to pray.
“Prayer won’t help you, little priest of an insignificant god,” the priestess said. Farrell heard the strain in her voice. “Neldin will swat and kill Falcron like an annoying gnat.”
The priestess squinted, and a surge of energy arched toward them from the dark pair. Lingum ignored her words and maintained his prayer.
Before the attack struck, a surge coursed through Farrell. Trusting in the piety of his companion, he countered. Balls of blue-green energy shot from his staff and slammed against his enemy’s shield. Red ribbons of energy that Kel had taught him to use lashed at the fragile barrier guarding the wizard and his companion. As the strands struck the barrier, Farrell saw they’d acquired a tinge of blue. Where they slithered across the shield, the bands left sizzling areas of weakness.
The wizard continued his attacks with little effect. As Farrell pressed to breach their defenses, the counters grew weaker and less frequent.
Slowly, Farrell and Lingum pushed their enemies back. When their opponents’ shield struck the wall of green, the wizard’s eyes bulged, and he searched the area around him.
A guttural shriek escaped the priestess’s lips, and she grabbed the wizard’s staff in both hands. The pair let loose their strongest attack. Where their energy had been more red than black at first, now the fire was nearly all black. Lingum’s grip on Farrell’s hand felt like an iron vise as he clamped down and matched the priestess’s effort.
Farrell met their attack head-on with a stream of pale blue energy that threatened to blind him with its brilliance. Where the energies met, the two forces struggled for dominance. The pushback against his fountain of power wasn’t enough to move it backward. Exerting a bit more effort, Farrell inched the focal point away from him and Lingum. On the other side, his enemy’s ragged breath and frantic glances at the priestess pushed Farrell to end the fight.
Father Lingum kept his eyes closed. His trust gave Farrell a chill. Armed with his renewed hope, Farrell jerked his staff forward and screamed. A pulse of blinding blue pushed the stream back onto the dark wizard’s staff.
The priestess screamed, and her hand flew off the staff. As she collapsed to the ground, Farrell fired another attack that struck the wizard in the chest. The man crumpled, dropping the warped and charred staff as he fell.
Panting nearby, the priestess clutched her injured hands to her chest. When Farrell moved toward her, she glared at him with a hatred that seized his heart. Only Father Lingum’s steady presence kept him from flinching. He readied a blast and aimed it at her head.
Lingum put his hand on the staff and pushed it lower. He shook his head at Farrell. “Yield, Sister, and I’ll let you live.”
“Holy Father….”
“It is not our way, Farrell.” He turned toward the priestess. “Again, I offer you a chance to surrender.”
“So you can parade my battered body around to denigrate Holy Neldin? Never!”
“You must kill her,” Farrell said, surprised by the hint of eagerness in his voice. He took a breath to steady himself. “There is no other way.”
Lingum drew his sword but hesitated.
“Weak and pathetic.” She laughed. “Mercy will be your undoing.”
“Mercy is what sets us apart from your dark master,” Lingum said. “Even to you I would extend compassion.”
Farrell ached to tell him to end it now before she could strike at them, or worse, utter a curse. Instead, he let the high priest follow his conscience but remained poised to act.
The priestess spat on Lingum’s boots. “That is what I think of your mercy. It will not taint my so
ul and stop me from appearing proudly before my Lord.”
Lingum raised his sword, but Farrell saw the regret in his eyes. “If your wish is to meet your master, I can speed your journey.”
The woman gasped and shrank back. “By Neldin’s word, I—”
Farrell struck her in the head with his staff. “End it before she curses us.”
Lingum stared at the dazed woman for a second longer before he plunged his sword into her chest. His killing blow was true and clean, ensuring the woman did not suffer.
“Even at the end you found a way to show her mercy,” Farrell said. “You’re a far better man than I.”
“No, I’m a fool.” He swallowed hard. “She would have set her master’s curse on us both had you not acted. Without that, her curse would have followed me unto the end of my days and beyond.”
Farrell incinerated both bodies as well as the wizard’s staff. “Come away. There is still their army to defeat. We can’t let any escape to terrorize the city.”
Farrell led them back toward the rear of the Chamdon force. The temple defenses had done their job well. Without the wizard, priestess, and Brakken, the Chamdon had little to protect them from the devastating effects of the magic protecting Falcron’s home. Barely any made it to the steps.
Rather than risk harming the temple defenders, Farrell used focused spells to take out small clumps of Chamdon. When even that became too risky, he separated the ends of his staff and attacked. Despite putting the poor creatures out of their misery, his efforts only added to the foul taste in his mouth.
Chapter Twenty-Four
True to their nature, the Chamdon fought until the last one was killed. Farrell helped an injured temple guard to his feet and steadied him as they walked. The healers worked at the base of the steps, tending to the injured soldiers. When the man staggered a second time, Farrell scooped him up and carried him to the triage area.
“This man took a blow to the head,” he told an older man in a healer’s robe, who was assigning patients to other healers. “He’s unsteady, and I believe he has a concussion.”
Champion of the Gods Box Set Page 141