by Frank Morin
"Verena!" Connor shouted her name again as his new war cry.
The waters of the river finally reached the rampagers, and he struck with all his anger, all his vengeance, sweeping the pack off their feet. He was forced to split the waters around Mattias and Verena as she began banking away.
As the rest of the howling pack tore uselessly at the waters of his fury, Martys leaped through that gap and sank his claws into the supply box at the back of the Swift. Verena was still trying to settle her flight path, and the unexpected impact knocked the Swift into a backward spin.
Martys hung on for half a rotation before the twisting force ripped him free and sent him flying over the charging Crushers and bouncing toward the entrance to the secret bolt hole.
Verena tried correcting her flight path, but she was too low, and the Swift clipped a protruding rock. The impact tore free a section of thrusters, which broke the delicate balance even as Verena increased thrust. The Swift careened sideways, bouncing and smashing against the rocks as it skidded across the plateau in an out-of-control tumble.
Verena screamed once as more thrusters broke free and she lost control. The battered little Swift ground to a halt on the far side of the plateau. Verena lay unmoving and limp, still strapped in her seat.
Connor landed in the flood he'd summoned, raging with terror for Verena and anger at Martys. He had to kill his uncle, had to check on Verena.
First he had to kill the other twelve rampagers.
The monsters tore at the waters, struggling to pull themselves out of the flood and return to the slaughter.
Their days of slaughter were over.
Connor drove snakelike tendrils of water down each snapping maw. With brutal determination, he filled the monsters with water until they swelled to bursting, every cavity flooded. Rampagers writhed and slashed at the confining waters, but they were in his power now. Connor knew how to destroy them.
Professor Hector had taught him that one final lesson.
He turned all that water to ice.
The rampagers convulsed one final time, their joints snapping, skin rupturing as the water expanded inside of them. In a single painful heartbeat, they transformed into frozen, monstrous statues.
Connor drained the rest of the water away, revealing the gruesome, frozen beasts. So much for falling to the call of the pack.
"Connor!"
He turned at Ilse's shout. She stood nearby with the Crushers and men of Alasdair. Several were tending to Mattias, who looked battered, but remarkably whole. He hadn't even broken a single, glowing tooth in that incredible fight.
Ilse was pointing back toward the bolt hole.
Martys stood on his hind legs, holding Hendry two feet off the ground, one clawed hand around his throat.
Chapter Eighty-Four
“The leaf that falls in the storms of autumn cannot return to the tree, but is lost to rot, like fallen honor cankering the soul.”
~Ilse
Aifric crept along a narrow ledge, about thirty feet above and behind Mister Five. She moved with all the skill of activated obsidian and every bit of hard-won craft she'd learned in the brutal kill academy. As always, a faint chorus seemed to beat in her heart as she tapped serpentinite.
She had missed embracing the unique tertiary stone owned by the Assassins. She hadn't dared touch it during her stay at the Carraig. Even though the happy Healer Aifric was her favorite alter personality, sometimes she needed to step into the shadows of her heritage and walk with serpentinite again.
Sounds hung in the air all around her, radiating from their sources like ripples of light. They changed color with their frequency, from the slower reds, through the hues of the rainbow, all the way up to the exciting, eager violets.
She could seize those bands of sound, capture them, redirect them, or change them. Walking with serpentinite, she owned sound.
The soft sounds of her cautious approach clung to her skin. She refused them the ability to leave and perhaps alert Mister Five of her approach. They would fade eventually, unless she replenished them or allowed them to spring away to spend their minute energy in the air.
She considered weaving them into a different sound altogether, perhaps casting them into the air as hints of approaching thrusters. That might distract Mister Five with the threat of Connor or his friends returning to rain death upon him from above. Then again, he would become alert, scanning the sky and the nearby area. She couldn't risk him noticing her before she struck.
Mister Five had to die, but she had never defeated him in a fair fight. Good thing she didn't plan to fight fair.
He was one of the deadliest of the Mhortair. Maybe her skills had developed to the point where she could defeat him in an honest duel, but why bother? He had always taught her to strike from a position of advantage in a moment of surprise.
So she crept forward, seeking her chance.
After Connor had deflected the bolt of fiery water, she had expected Kilian to attack Mister Five. She had hung back to stay out of the way, but Kilian was distracted by Aonghus's fiery attack.
Instead of striking at the two powerful Petralists while they dueled with fire across the quarry, Mister Five had settled into a patient, waiting stance. It appeared he would allow Kilian to dispatch Aonghus and Dougal and only then strike the man down in his moment of victory.
It was the Mhortair way.
Aifric settled into a crouch above him. She would in turn steal the victory from him as he rose to claim his ultimate prize.
So she turned her attention to the dueling Petralists. Aonghus had embraced the power of the sculpted marble and attacked with white-hot flames that had intensified to blue. Sheets of fire rippled back and forth over the stones as Aonghus and Kilian leaped and flew around the quarry. They were driven by the heat of their flames, protected in the midst of the firestorm by their elemental connection.
Kilian did not tap water to counter his opponent, but faced Aonghus flame to flame. Even though Aonghus was drawing upon the strength of the sculpted stone, Kilian withstood every assault.
Twisting spears of flame exploded against sheets of defensive fire. Each time Kilian managed to tumble Aonghus back with unexpected twists of the firestorm, or with horizontal tornadoes of fire.
While the hot-headed captain grew increasingly wild in his attacks and his mad-tinged laughter echoed from the heights, Kilian remained calm and unruffled. Of course that only served to enrage Aonghus further.
She was glad she hadn't crept any closer. The air was growing dangerously hot, even high on the flank of Wick Torr where she crouched. Anyone standing down in the quarry would be consumed.
Dougal had retreated to the lip of the northern rim of the quarry. After vainly shouting for Aonghus to ascend and finish Kilian, he had slipped over the side, hanging over the steep northern slope to escape the intense heat.
If only she had a good crossbow, she could pierce his hands and send him tumbling down the long slope. He wasn't a Boulder and she doubted he'd survive the wild slide.
Gregor had not joined the fighting and seemed impervious to the heat. After that one surprised step he'd taken when Mister Five's bolt struck, he had remained motionless on the northern rim, eyes closed, hands hanging loose by his side.
She wasn't sure what he was trying to do, but doubted it was working. The stones at the very center of the lowest level of the quarry pit had begun buckling upward and occasionally geysered like water instead of solid granite. The debris was piling at the floor of the quarry, not rising to snag Kilian out of the air.
"Why won't you die?" Aonghus screamed, erupting off the eastern rim.
Dierk had fled moments ago in the windrider. Now Aonghus shot through the air at Kilian, who was hovering over the quarry on streamers of fire. Aonghus clutched a burning dagger of intense blue flame in his hand as he closed on Kilian, and crimson fire bled out his eyes and wreathed his head.
With a burst of new flames, Kilian shot forward to meet him. Aifric expected hi
m to seize Aonghus's flames or strike unexpectedly with water.
He did neither.
The two collided in midair and Aonghus drove the fiery dagger at Kilian's heart.
Kilian caught it.
The blade stopped inches from his chest. Aonghus heaved on it, but could not drive it forward.
Kilian spoke softly, and Aifric spotted the wisp of sound drifting around them. She was about to snatch it to her to hear his words, but Mister Five grabbed it first and pulled it to him.
Aifric dared touch it with her serpentinite senses. She didn't move it out of its course, but just let it slide past her thoughts.
"You're like a child given a club, Aonghus. You flail around breaking things, thinking that makes you a man, but you have no idea what you're doing."
In the air above the quarry, Kilian seized Aonghus by the throat and the flames ringing the angry captain's head winked out.
"How?" Aonghus cried, beating uselessly against Kilian's grip.
"Because I know."
Kilian threw Aonghus away. He struck the northern rim of the quarry hard and bounced against Gregor's feet. He stumbled to his feet as Kilian drifted closer, all the flames they'd thrown back and forth in their fight ringing him and keeping him aloft.
The flames split into bands of orange, crimson, and blue. They wove around each other, forming ever-changing, complex patterns. The ancient symbol of Petralist fire formed beneath his feet. Standing in the air atop the writhing flames, Kilian indeed looked like the master of the element.
An iron hand seized Aifric by the throat, while another grabbed her right wrist and wrenched it behind her back.
She snapped out of her reverie and realized Mister Five had snuck up behind her. She didn't struggle. She'd never broken out of that hold in all the years they'd trained together.
"You shouldn't allow yourself to get distracted, Student Eighteen," Mister Five said in that slightly disapproving voice he always used when she failed a lesson.
"What gave me away?" she asked, proud that her voice remained calm, despite the fact that death circled her now, waiting only for Mister Five to strike.
"When you touched that sound wave."
"I didn't move it," she protested.
"But you didn't account for the fact that I might have shrouded it in my will. By brushing it with yours, I sensed your presence."
"I didn't realize you could do that."
"Which is why you are but a student." His voice turned harder. "You do know better than to allow yourself to get distracted."
"You're right. Thank you for reminding me."
He chuckled. "It saddens me to have to deliver you to your father for execution. You once showed great promise."
Aifric's heart sank. If only he would simply gift her a quick death. She couldn't bear to kneel in shame before her father and the entire clan, forcing him to take her life to cleanse the family name.
"I made the right choice," she declared, refusing to accept Mister Five's judgment. "Connor is the best hope for the world and we should ally with him."
"The decision is not yours to make."
Icy waters snaked around her arms and legs, binding her and dragging her to the ground. Mister Five dropped to the ledge where he'd been standing a moment ago and the waters binding her dragged her down after him, like tentacles drawing her toward destruction.
She landed hard and grunted in pain, but he seized the sound and scattered it, preventing Kilian from hearing her distress. She could scream all day to no avail. Even if she propelled her voice with her own gift, Mister Five was far more experienced. While he was focused on her, she could never hope to break through his warding.
"Watch the destruction of the son of the matriarch of evil," Mister Five declared, and the waters binding her lifted her off the ground to kneel beside him, forcing her to watch as he prepared to strike Kilian down.
"At least wait until he removes Dougal," she urged.
He gave her a disgusted look. "Since when do I need your counsel?"
She shrugged. "Since you decided to make Connor our enemy."
On the northern rim of the quarry, Dougal was scrambling to his feet to face Kilian. He scowled at Aonghus. "You fool. I told you to ascend."
Kilian declared, "It's done. He fought bravely, but he's not the one who has to die today."
Aifric leaned forward, eager to see Kilian boil Dougal's blood from the inside.
Without warning, the solid stone of the rim under Gregor's feet erupted into grasping fingers that wrapped him in binding lengths. His eyes snapped open and he cried out with fear as his limbs were yanked outward. The rope-like fingers of stone lifted him spread-eagled off the stone rim, despite his struggles.
Aonghus and Dougal stumbled back from the spectacle, their expressions as amazed as Aifric felt. She couldn't imagine the mighty Sentry held powerless by earth. What had gone wrong? What had he done?
Mister Five frowned. "What devilry is this?"
The stone restraints flowed off the rim, carrying Gregor down into the quarry, stretching his limbs farther apart until he screamed.
As the imprisoned Sentry approached the center of the quarry, the turbulent ground there erupted in a giant geyser, flinging house-sized chunks of stone high into the air. Gregor was dragged into the geyser, and stone chips and debris slashed into him, leaving him bleeding and gasping with pain and terror.
"I fear an ancient evil has awakened," Mister Five whispered, not even bothering to block his voice from slipping away.
"Kilian!" Aifric shouted, hurling the sound toward him, hoping Mister Five's distraction would give her the chance to warn Kilian of the danger.
Mister Five crushed the sound just before it reached him. She breathed a curse. Half a heartbeat more, and she would have managed it.
The geyser ceased. A deep calm settled over the quarry, punctuated only by the hissing of Kilian's flames.
A slender woman rose from the depths, and when she stepped forward, the stone flowed into a smooth surface, like water. Her entire being glowed with light.
Her thick golden hair was streaked heavily with gray, like a cloudy sunset, and it blocked Aifric's view of the woman's face. She decided she really didn't want to see who had emerged from the heart of the quarry, and she cringed back against her bonds.
The woman considered Gregor with a disgusted expression. Then she slapped him across the face. The blow looked unhurried, almost casual, but it whipped his head around so hard, it was a wonder his neck didn't snap.
He rocked back in his constraints, and a coughing groan escaped his lips. The little sound flitted frantically about the quarry before fading away.
The woman said, "You remind me of my naughty grandson. Always meddling where he's not welcome."
She turned and surveyed the quarry with a frown. Her unlined face looked mature, and her eyes were a blue so penetrating that even though she wasn't looking at Aifric, it felt like those orbs were digging into her mind.
Atop the northern rim, Dougal exclaimed, "What are you doing? You're supposed to be a monster!"
"She is a monster," Kilian growled. He looked furious, and the flames encircling him intensified to glowing blue.
The woman looked up at Kilian hovering high above and frowned. "You're not dead yet?"
"Hello, mother."
Chapter Eighty-Five
"Where the mountain meets the wind, history itself is witness."
~Connor
Lukas and several of the Crushers moved toward Martys, but Connor called them back.
"You have to do something," Amhain cried as he and the other villagers rushed up to Connor.
"I will," Connor promised him, not looking away from Martys.
"Why hasn't he crushed Hendry's throat?" Ilse asked softly as she fell into step beside Connor.
"Because he's not the target."
Connor yearned to run to Verena and check on her, then go check on Hamish, but he forced himself to let go of all other worries,
all concerns.
The monster who was Martys beckoned him on and growled, "Raw pagh."
"Is that thing trying to speak?" Amhain asked incredulously.
Connor nodded. "That thing is Martys, and yes, he said, 'Law of the pack'."
"Tallan's curse, can it be so?" Amhain asked.
"Go check on Hamish and Verena." Connor pointed in their direction, not needing to look to know exactly where the two had fallen. "I'll deal with Martys."
"What are you planning?" Ilse asked as the villagers scrambled away to do Connor's bidding.
"Hendry!" Lilias appeared at the secret entrance to the bolt hole, one hand to her mouth as she stumbled up onto the plateau, eyes glued to the monster that held her husband an inch away from death.
"Stay back, Mom," Connor shouted. "It's Martys. He's betrayed us. He's waiting to fight me. Dad will be all right."
Martys nodded his hideous maw and bared his fangs, his long tongue lolling out, dripping with saliva.
"I can't strike with slate," Ilse muttered. "There's no earth on this cursed plateau."
"I know, and if I attack with water, he'll rip out my father's throat before I can take him."
"What then?" She pulled him to a stop and forced him to meet her worried gaze. "Connor, even if you had porphyry, you can't risk it."
"I have it. He gave it to me. This is what he wanted all along."
"Which is why you can't do it." This from Mattias, who limped over with Lukas's help.
Mattias was the last person Connor was willing to take advice from. He glared at the Blade and reminded himself to breathe. "Get away from me before I do something stupid. Go check on Verena."
He really didn't want Mattias anywhere near Verena, but someone had to go. Even Mattias was better than no one. Sort of.
Lilias took a couple hesitant steps closer to Martys, but stopped still fifty yards away. "Martys?"
He turned to look at her and she rose to her full height and snapped, "You should be ashamed of yourself."
He made a huffing sound that Connor understood as laughter. Then he shook Hendry, as if to warn her that insulting him at that moment was a bad idea. Hendry was gripping the monstrous arm holding him and only allowing him to sip at the air he needed, but he was like a child in the rampager's claws.