The Lure of Fools

by Jason James King

  This isn’t working, the sword grumbled.

  “Sure it is!” he replied.

  We are slower this way.

  Another bolt flew at Jekaran and he batted it out of the air with a clang! It had come within a foot of his neck. The sword was right. His reactions weren’t as fast, or his senses as sharp as they were while he was the one in control.

  More soldiers flooded into the hall, mixing in with the guards Jekaran had been fighting. That likely brought the count of foes close to a hundred. His energy, strength, and skill were all amazing–he’d felled over a dozen soldiers already, all while dodging crossbow bolts, and spear thrusts. But sheer numbers were bound to overwhelm him if he didn’t do something to access more of the sword’s power.

  He parried a sword swing, kicked the attacking man in his chest, knocking him backward into the mass of approaching soldiers. The force of Jekaran’s kick had been such that the man took half a dozen of his fellows down with him as he crashed to the floor.

  Give me control of our bond!

  “Not gonna happen!” Jekaran said aloud.

  He ducked a sword swing from a soldier behind him before coming up and slamming the pommel of the sword against the back of the man’s helmet. It dented in and the man fell forward, stumbling to all fours in an insensible stupor.

  What if we attempted a fusing?

  “A what?” Jekaran kicked the man in his ribs and he collapsed to the floor.

  A fusing. It is when we merge our consciousness’ together so that we in essence become one being.

  “So why haven’t you suggested this before?” Jekaran whirled and simultaneously parried the swords of two attackers.

  Our bond wasn’t strong enough–it still might not be. And it is dangerous.

  “Since when has that stopped you before?” Jekaran scoffed.

  He felt the sword’s exasperation, but it didn’t comment on the jibe. We could become fused together permanently.

  There was a fate worse than death. “But I would be able to use my body?”

  We would both be one, so yes. But we could both cease to exist as we are now if something goes wrong.

  That made Jekaran feel sick and he was about to reject the idea when a sharp sting drilled into his side. He gasped and looked down to see the fletching of an arrow protruding from his ribs. It hadn’t gone deep, but Divine Mother did it hurt!

  “Okay,” Jekaran puffed out as he leaped out of the way of two more shots. “Do it!”

  The world blurred–sound, sight, touch, smell, all of his senses immediately changing. Some heightened, some muted. His thoughts changed too, his mind expanding in a dozen different directions while contracting in others. It was like falling asleep, but instead of blackness, Jekaran’s vision became tinged with green, as though he were looking through an emerald–only clearer. Each of his thoughts echoed with the sound of two voices, first far apart and discordant, then sounding closer together until there was only one voice, and Jekaran’s mind was swallowed up in an ocean of greater consciousness.

  Kairah awoke.

  She sat up in the bed, glancing about. All was dark, and so she spell-cast a globe of light that floated to the ceiling and illuminated the entire chamber. It was lavish by human standards; paintings, tapestries, and shelves filled with books adorned the walls. The floor was covered in embroidered carpets and there was something familiar about the rooms smooth ivory walls, and domed ceiling.

  “I am in Taris.” Aiested, the humans called it now.

  She looked at herself, surprised to find that she was clad only in a white silken shift.

  Kairah! Aeva called, and the Spirit Lily’s voice sounded on the edge of panic.

  This close to an Aeose as powerful as the one in Taris–Aiested–distance wouldn’t hinder Kairah’s use of the Fourth Discipline. She could hear Aeva’s thoughts clearly and would be able to respond with next to no effort. I am well, she sent back.

  I was very worried, Aeva said, and Kairah could feel the Spirit Lily’s relief.

  Kairah swung her legs over the side of the bed, placed her feet on the cool carpet, and stood. Her shift fell to just above her knees as she took a step toward a shelf with a mirror mounted above a water basin. She dipped her hands into the cold water, and then sprinkled some on her face.

  You’ve seen something, haven’t you.

  Kairah froze as the vision of the dead land, the innumerable bones, and the green lightning returned to her in a torrent. And that’s when she felt it–the abomination from her vision. Vessel Moriora had called it. She nearly retched as she perceived its location. It was drawing closer. She had to do something!

  The doors to her room swung inward startling her. Kairah looked up from the water basin and turned to see a man standing in the doorway. He was tall with a shorn head, and was dressed in armor over which he wore a white tabard. A human military man? Had they been watching for when she awoke?

  “I must see your king,” Kairah said as she strode toward him.

  The man smirked, and that’s when Kairah saw the faint purple glow surrounding him–an Apeiron aura.

  “Hello sister,” he said as he stepped in and closed the doors behind him. “I am glad to see you fully recovered.”

  “Jenoc!”

  He frowned at seeing her state of undress. “The humans did not dare touch you, did they?”

  Kairah shook her head. “Not like that.”

  “I did what I could to keep you safe, but I was not able to watch over you at all times.” He moved to a cherry wood wardrobe closet set against the wall. “Time is short, and we must leave here.” He threw open the doors and began to carefully examine the clothing within.

  Kairah walked toward him. “What have you done?”

  Jenoc withdrew a gown of deep blue from the closet, inspected it, and then turned and proffered it to Kairah. “What I came to do.”

  The talis war. “You have succeeded, then?”

  “For the most part.” Jenoc made her take the dress, and then turned around so his back was facing her. “And right now the palace is a mass of fighting and confusion, the perfect time for us to slip away.”

  “What is happening?”

  “Your champion is loose.”

  “Jekaran?”

  “Yes,” Jenoc said. “He is wreaking havoc with that sword talis of his. Did you give that to him? I know you stole the illusion pendant, but I did not think you had taken anything else.”

  Kairah gripped the dress in one hand and let most of it fall to the floor. “Jenoc, you must stop this. Undo whatever it is that you have done!”

  “I will not,” Jenoc snapped. “I cannot,” he added less harshly.

  Kairah walked toward him, his back still facing her. “Please. You do not know what is at stake.”

  Jenoc sighed. “I tire of arguing this point. We need to return to Allose.”

  “No, you do not understand,” Kairah lightly touched his arm. “There is something coming. Something terrible. Can you not sense it?”

  Jenoc raised a hand to his right temple. “No,” he said. “Something is wrong. I struggle with spell-casting, and I have blinding migraines. It has progressed to the point that it is taking all of my strength just to maintain this disguise.” He turned around to look at Kairah, and she caught the pain in his eyes. “And it is more than just my abilities.”

  He looked away. “Inflicting harm and authoring destruction excites me. At first, I thought it just the satisfaction of revenge, but it is more than that. I crave seeing and causing death.”

  Those last words struck Kairah, and she made the connection. “You attempted to channel the other magic, did you not?”

  He sighed. “Harnessing it and using it to destroy the humans was my original plan, yes. The records do not contain much about it, but after years of searching, I pieced together the ritual for calling it.” He looked to the side and his eyes grew distant. “I failed in my attempt to wield it, and now I fear that it has scarred me.”


  “I need to know exactly how you did this thing,” Kairah said.

  Jenoc’s eyes refocused and he looked at her. “I do not recommend you try it. It was an excruciatingly painful experience that nearly destroyed me.”

  That made Kairah think of the suffocating power that forced its way into her blood, trying to devour her Apeiron store. Her mind focused on the dark thing that even now was steadily approaching and she was forced to choke down bile.

  “A monstrosity approaches, and we need to stop it! I believe it may be a byproduct of your efforts to use Moriora.

  “What?”

  “The other magic.”

  “How would such a thing be possible?” Jenoc said.

  “I do not know,” Kairah replied. “That is why I need you to explain to me what you did to call it.”

  Kairah started as the chamber doors banged open.

  Raelen saw Navarch Pariel standing with the Allosian woman, and his stomach soured. He’d been hoping he was wrong about the man as he had been wrong about Loeadon. But the scene before him was proof enough.

  “Jenoc of Allose,” Raelen called. “You are under arrest for crimes against the crown. Reveal yourself now, and surrender!”

  Pariel smirked. “Puzzled it out after all, eh my prince?” And then Pariel was gone, replaced by a man equal in height, but with long ice-blue hair, eyes the color of an Apeiron well, and features Saranna would’ve marked as gorgeous. His armor and tabard did not vanish, but Raelen did notice a ring on the man’s finger that hadn’t been there before.

  “Where is Navarch Pariel?” Raelen demanded.

  “Who can say?” Jenoc raised his eyebrows in mock innocence. “He could be anywhere now. Likely in more than one place.”

  Raelen seethed. “You murdered him, then?”

  Jenoc’s smirk returned. “Murdered implies equality. It would be like you saying the cooks murdered the swine you had for dinner. No, I slaughtered him like the animal he was, and left him in the north forest for the other animals to devour.” The Allosian’s smile disappeared, and his amethyst eyes hardened. “You are all animals!”

  “Jenoc, no!” The Allosian woman screamed.

  A shockwave exploded from Jenoc, flinging Raelen and his guards back into the hall. Raelen flew so far that he crashed into the wall opposite the chamber’s entrance. Bursts of light exploded across his vision, and the next thing he knew, Gryyth was lifting him from the floor.

  He quickly stood, vision still blurred as he watched the Allosian man tow his sister down the corridor. “Come on!” It came out part groan and part growl. He tapped his transference band, hands becoming bear-like and his strength increasing tenfold.

  Raelen leapt into a run, Gryyth soon at his side. They left the other guards behind, most of whom hadn’t fully recovered from the blast—none would be able to keep pace with him anyway. It was just him and Gryyth against the man who had deceived him; an Allosian who could spell-cast beyond anything Loeadon had managed. This was reckless, dangerous, and his father would add un-princely, but Raelen wasn’t about to let the bastard escape.

  Maely leaned her head against the window’s cool glass as she stared down from the spire. The light talises of milling servants and guards in the courtyard below looked like distant stars for how high up she was. A hundred feet? Maybe more? Maely had ascended the towering white turret after running away from Jekaran. She’d heard soldiers rushing to apprehend him, and was worried, but he could handle himself in a fight. Well, as long as he had his magic sword. Besides, it didn’t matter anymore. Nothing did.

  She stepped back and pushed open the window, a gust of early morning wind ruffling her hair and making her wince. The window was taller than she was, starting at the base of the stone floor and reaching a dozen feet up to the arched top. The single pane of thick glass and smooth hinges were no doubt another tribute to Allosian architecture as she’d never seen a window designed quite like this one. She sobbed a laugh. Since when had she become an expert on such things? She’d only seen three big cities, this being the third.

  She scrubbed her eyes on the back of her sleeve. Was she really thinking of jumping? Or was this just more dramatic self-pity? “Why not?” she whispered to herself. What had she left to live for? Mulladin? Ezra could take care of him if he was even still alive. The people of Genra had never treated her well, and so there wasn’t a point in returning there. All she’d had for years was Jekaran and her plans for them to be together, and now she didn’t even have that.

  No. I have this. Maely unclenched her fist and studied her mother’s ring, held atop her palm. Her mother must’ve not known how the talis worked, or perhaps she’d never even realized it was a talis. The amethyst shard was small enough to make the ring look ordinary. Even so, her mother had made the association. When she wore her ring, she could get wealthier, more respectable men.

  Maely snorted. “Respectable men?” How could that even apply? Was there even such a thing as a respectable man? She’d thought she’d found one in Jekaran, but he was driven by sex as much as any of her mother’s clients. That was the reason he’d chosen Kairah over Maely wasn’t it? Because of the woman’s impossibly perfect physical appeal.

  Well, at least with the ring Maely wouldn’t have to resort to her mother’s profession in order to survive. She could take whatever she wanted from whomever she wanted. That made her sick to her stomach, and she again clenched the ring tightly in her fist, in part so she didn’t have to look at it.

  After seeing the dead, puppet-like look in Jekaran’s eyes, she was beginning to understand why Kairah had been so disgusted by it. Imagine if men like the ones who paid her mother had such a talis? They wouldn’t need to pay for sex, they could just make any woman that caught their eye submit to them.

  Hell, she was a woman and she’d used the ring to compel that waitress to strip in front of a room full of lecherous men! How much better was she than the kind of men she despised? She’d even forced Jekaran to love her, and to kiss her! Was that any different? She was no better than a rapist. She idly wondered if the spell had worn off of him by now, and cringed at what he must think of her for casting it on him.

  He’ll hate me.

  Even thee very possibility weighed heavy on Maely’s heart, and she started to breathe rapidly as though she were unable to get enough air. She’d thought that Jekaran not loving her was beyond terrible, but the idea of him hating her suffocated Maely. She quickly removed her slippers and placed a bare foot up onto the window’s six-inch sill. She braced her hands against the wall on either side of the window and stepped up so that both feet rested on the ledge and all ten of her toes hung over empty air.

  She looked down from the dizzying height. Was she really going to do this?

  No, she wasn’t.

  Maely stepped backward, stumbling and falling onto her side. Her mother’s ring flew out of her hand and rang as it hit and then rolled across the marble floor. She watched it spin and then come to rest ten paces away from her. She didn’t get up, didn’t move to recover it. Instead, she lay her head on the floor and sobbed.

  How long she stayed like that, she wasn’t sure. It felt like hours, but it could’ve only been a few minutes. Finally, she stood, walked over to where her mother’s ring had come to rest and scooped it up. Maely wasn’t sure what she was going to do now, or where she would go, but she knew she’d need the ring to, at the very least, defend herself.

  Distant shouting made her start, and she reflexively slipped the ring onto her finger. The shouting grew louder and so she backed into a corner, hiding herself as best she could in the shadows. A flash of light came from the ramp that led up into the tower, followed by the sound of breaking stone. What was…?

  A man with ice-blue hair and pale skin towed a woman into the room. She was dressed only in a white shift and had long amethyst colored hair. “Kairah,” Maely whispered.

  Kairah was resisting Jenoc, but the Allosian man didn’t even seem to notice. He was fixated on the ramp bel
ow at which he flung two balls of crackling red fire.

  “Watch out!” a voice shouted from below.

  “Jenoc, please listen!” Kairah begged.

  Jenoc glanced at a ramp leading to the roof of the tower and released one more ball of fire before pulling Kairah up and toward the roof. There was a woosh as a column of fire licked up into the room, and a wave of heat washed over Maely.

  She looked up at the ramp leading to the roof. Jenoc had Kairah. Jenoc was exposed. Someone was chasing him. What would he do to Kairah? Maely knew the man was her brother, but he wasn’t like other Allosians–he’d gone mad. Would he harm Kairah? Would he kill her? Maely touched her ring. She could stop him. She could save Kairah.

  Why? What do I owe her? She took Jekaran away from me!

  Of course, had Jekaran ever really been hers?

  I hate her!

  But she had done nothing to Maely personally. In fact, she’d been trying to save Maely’s people who’d hunted Kairah’s race almost to extinction.

  Jek cares for her.

  If Maely really did love Jekaran, would that love be contingent on whether he loved her back?

  I do love him.

  And if what she felt truly was love, wouldn’t she want Jekaran to be happy, even if it meant saving Kairah for him?

  Maely broke into a run, her bare feet giving her extra traction as she raced up the inclining ramp. She threw open the hatch set in the ceiling at the top and froze. Jenoc might be waiting with another fireball for someone to climb onto the roof. I’m an idiot! She made to duck back down, but nothing happened. No fireball. She cautiously peeked over the lip of the hatch and saw a flat circular roof, the white stone cast purple under the light of Aiested’s looming Apeira Well.

  “Golden womb of the Goddess!” Maely swore as her eyes fell on something at the center of the roof.