Lords Of Existence (Book 8) (10 page)

The champions split again and again, each group bringing more of their own siblings into the fold.

It was only a matter of time before the council of Joint Authority found them.

Existence

Agar came to sit in Joint Authority.

Leaxis, leader of the council flung questions at him that hung in the flow like strings of pearls.

“They are here, correct? Garrick and the rest of Braxidane’s champions? You sense them, do you not?”

“Why do you ask such questions if you already know the answer?” Agar replied.

“You promised Braxidane would settle this.”

“I recall making no such promise.”

“You said—”

“I
said
Braxidane was trying to bring Garrick to the justice he fantasizes of. I did
not
say he would be successful.”

“Semantics.”

“You will fix this now.”

“Me? How is this my mess?”

Leaxis flashed cold rails at him. “Do not pretend you had no plans to fill Braxidane’s shoes, Agar. Consider yourself lucky that our investigation found the triggers you had set prior to any ill-advised effort you might have made to take advantage of them.”

Agar said nothing.

“Are you trying to start a war across All of Existence, Agar? Is that your desire?

“No, Lord Council,” Agar replied. “I do not wish war.”

That was true enough.

Indeed, if he had succeeded in gathering the strength he had anticipated, Agar would almost certainly have forestalled the war that was now nearly guaranteed to come.
Talla
politics were tangled and twisted, and nearly assured to cause conflict. But his plan was a false hope. Garrick, Braxidane’s rogue champion, had broken Agar’s entire structure by rallying the others.

The champions would die, of course. Garrick and his cohort of strange magicians had no chance fighting in the middle of Existence. But a collection of dead champions meant his original plans would have no fodder to build from, so whatever war was written into the future of the flow was going to come now, regardless of what he did.

“You will destroy Garrick,” Leaxis said. “And you will destroy him now.”

“It will take more than Garrick’s death to staunch these wounds,” Agar replied. “Spread your senses. The gates are discovered. You know better than I do that there will be more visitors.”

The entire council flashed. His words were true. If the creatures of the worlds found they could survive traveling through All of Existence, the gates would see a steady flow of these same creatures invading their homeland. And that was a losing game because, while creatures of the planes bred like insects, there would be no more of the
talla
. To lose even one was bad. To open the gates to a stream of visitors would be to expose themselves to endless attacks, and that meant the only variable to extinction was time—a long time, certainly, but time is time. It moves at whatever pace one lives at, and planewalkers—the
talla
, the
flow masters
, the
yahli-at-ba
—lived forever.

Now Joint Authority understood.

“So there is only one option,” Leaxis finally said. “Each of Braxidane’s champions must be exterminated, and their planes forever sealed.”

Agar smirked. “You command an action that is certain to annoy half of Existence, and you have the nerve to suggest that I am the one who wants war?”

“There is no other option,” Leaxis said. “The lords will see that. We will create new planes.”

“I think that command goes too far,” Agar replied. “Kill the champions, yes. That is a necessity. But I think the only plane that needs to die is Adruin. It can fill a symbolic place in the hearts of others.”

Leaxis’s energy dulled as she considered the thought.

“I can agree to that,” she said. “Remove the creatures who know of Existence, and make an example of Adruin. In the process, remove the cancer that is Braxidane.”

Agar bowed to her in the truest purple.

“You will come with us, though, Agar, you will help us remove the stain that Braxidane has set upon us.”

“Of course I will, Lord Council,” Agar replied.

They left without hesitation, setting course for the node that Garrick had created, and setting course toward the champions of the Thousand Worlds.

Existence

It was when Garrick emerged from the world of Nordesta, accompanied by little Ginka, the silver-skinned being with a dark hunger that that easily rivalled Garrick’s own, that he felt the brunt of the Lords’ attention. It burned against him like a brand.

They knew he was here.

Garrick created his own node, then. He waited there for his champions to emerge from their assigned worlds. He collected them up as they arrived, feeling their powers burn in the flow, feeling strength as their energy built around him.

He understood them.

He understood that they followed him not due to any edict he had made.

They followed him because he was them.

They followed him because he understood them as deeply as they loved their home worlds. They were men and women and creatures as strange as any he could recall. But he knew they stood for him because he stood for them.

“Rest,” he told them as they came into his pod and shed their shells of magestuff this one last time. “Set gates and gather life force. The planewalker council will be here soon, and we must be ready.”

Chapter 16

From across the street, Will watched Braxidane approach Amanda’s chambers. Upon Braxidane’s entrance, however, he crossed the dirt road and made his way into an alleyway. From there he shimmied up a drain pipe and edged closer to Amanda’s window to get an angle from which he could better hear their discussion. It was harder to hold on to the pipe these days, and he found it more difficult to steady himself against the brick wall. He was out of practice, that was for sure, but he was also getting too big for this kind of skullduggery.

Still, he was able to wedge himself into a corner and peer into the room.

He took smug satisfaction in noting the planewalker had arrived at precisely the appointed time, like a hired flunky coming to his patron with his hat in his hand. He couldn’t help but delight in the expression that colored Braxidane’s face. Even the way Braxidane carried himself when he walked showed his disgust at following such customs as keeping appointments. Yet that is exactly what he did.

When the mighty fall, Will thought, they fall hard.

Amanda’s “chambers” were made of a room built above the Brass Bottom, an inn in the middle of the city. Having already met with the Freeborn and provided their orders to support Darien, she was steeping tea and reading a manuscript as Braxidane knocked. Now the manuscript sat on a table between them, and Braxidane filled a chair across from her with his back mostly to Will’s view.

“What do I need to do to help you?” she asked.

Amanda looked older than she appeared. The shadows of late afternoon brought lines out that weren’t there otherwise. Or, perhaps it was not the lack of light that aged her, but instead the burden of leadership she had been carrying since the night Garrick defeated the planewalker and fled the city. The Freeborn were a frustrating lot during the best of times, and these were nowhere near the best of times. Will doubted Amanda had gotten more than two hours of uninterrupted sleep in days.

“Join with me,” Braxidane said. “Use your reservoir and cast a link into my essence. Then let me ride along with you. Once we are traveling together I will use the life force of the plane itself to fuel your spell, and I will find a seam that will get us back into Existence.”

“Find a seam?”

“Trust me,” Braxidane said as he took her hands in his. “I will not lead you astray.”

The words
trust me
made Will’s gut do flips.

“All right,” Amanda said.

The practice Will had accomplished had taught him how to be sensitive to casting, and as Amanda began to develop her spell, Will aligned himself to her work. He felt Braxidane pull himself into its flow. He felt Braxidane pull on it. Amanda’s gasp told Will all he needed to know. Braxidane had total control of her Freeborn magic, now, and that feeling of loss was not something Amanda had expected.

Will reached into his own sense of magic and set his self-taught gates.

He did not know how to grab energy from the area around him, but he saw how Amanda’s casting disturbed the fabric of the plane. As Braxidane twisted Amanda’s magic to carry the pair away, Will, too, stepped forward, moving silently into the spell work. The pull of the casting was like a line attached to his stomach. The brick around him faded, and he felt himself … flying … flying through something that was not air.

Then the flow was a rushing current of power so hot it was hard to breathe.

Flames of color burned around him. He wanted to scream but was afraid to reveal himself. His fingers flared, the skin on the back of his neck felt scorched. He held on, though. He couldn’t stop now, so he clung to the thread Braxidane was riding on in the mere hope that he would survive.

A moment later, everything slowed and the pain faded.

His eyesight was different here—everything glowed in shifting patterns that moved with a sluggish current. He became caught up in that flow. What was it? Had it always been here?

Then he saw the gap.

It was a hole in the fabric made obvious by purple and blue smears. The smears shifted, too, they moved like they were drifting in currents of a river. It was a leak, Will saw. Stuff of the plane was leaking out of that opening.

Will felt Braxidane’s relief at the sight.

“Ah, Garrick, my young upstart,” Braxidane said. “I thank myself that you are as predictable as you are resourceful.”

Will stirred as he felt the essence of Master Garrick in the flow.

His motion brought attention.

“Will?” Braxidane said.

“That’s right.”

“What are you doing here?” Amanda said.

“I …” Will wasn’t sure what to say. “I’m going to be with Garrick.”

Braxidane laughed.

“Take him back,” Amanda demanded.

“Actions and consequences,” Braxidane said. “There is no time now for that now. The boy has cast his die.”

Will felt Amanda’s attempt to wrest control of her magic back from the planewalker, but Braxidane was in his element now and would not be heeded. She cried out, but the three of them still traveled toward the seam.

“Stop fighting me,” Braxidane said to her. “Your struggles serve only to make matters worse for you.”

And, though Amanda did not stop struggling, Braxidane gathered them both and stepped them through that tiny snip in the fabric that led to All of Existence.

Existence