Chaos Unleashed (34 page)

Keegan heard Rexol’s voice echoing in his head, but he didn’t have time to wonder how the mind of his dead master had returned inside the inhuman body now wearing the Crown.

Rexol had unleashed a powerful wave of uncontrolled Chaos magic, and the Keystone had fractured, opening a hole in the Legacy. Scythe had already slain the first two creatures to come through the breach, but she was now locked in fierce combat with two more.

He was still too far from the beach to make out any of the horrific details as Scythe hacked and slashed at her enemies, the battle happening much too fast for his eyes to follow. As he ran, he began to draw Chaos from the Ring, summoning it to unleash against Scythe’s opponents.

When the gathering Chaos reached a critical mass, he stopped. But instead of releasing it, he hesitated. Scythe already had one of her foes down, the other was sure to follow quickly—she didn’t need his help. But he could hear the rising scream that signaled another wave of invaders coming into the mortal world.

He unleashed the Chaos, targeting the black gate that hung in the air on the edge of the beach. Even if there was some kind of spell he could cast to seal the breach, it was beyond his knowledge and skill. But if he couldn’t close the passage, he could at least stop the enemy from coming through.

Blue fire shot from his hands, enveloping the two figures just emerging from the breach. They howled in pain as the Chaos incinerated them, reducing them to small piles of ash in only seconds.

Near the water’s edge, a massive Chaos storm was building above Rexol. It was already starting to grow beyond his control; Keegan could feel the power rolling out across the island in a slow but steady stream.

I am Immortal!
the wizard howled, and his cackling laughter filled Keegan’s head.

There was a thunderous crack, and he knew another fissure had appeared in the Keystone. A second sphere materialized near the beach, fifty feet away from the first one, and began to grow.

Scythe had just finished off her last foe, and Keegan opened his mouth to tell her they had to stop Rexol. But his warning was lost in a deafening cascade of cracks and snaps reverberating across the island.

A dozen of the hovering black spheres materialized, scattered and spaced along the edge of the beach. Seconds later, the inhuman horde came pouring through.

There was no time to think; Keegan simply reacted by throwing everything the Ring had at them. Bolts of blue lightning arced from his fingertips, jumping from target to target in the closely packed enemy ranks. Blue fire rained down from the sky, melting anyone and anything it touched. Pillars of flame erupted from the ground like geysers, wreaking havoc.

He was dimly aware of Scythe leaping and spinning through the magical carnage. Protected by the Sword, she had no fear of his spells as she hacked her way through the advancing army. And for a second Keegan thought they might hold the enemy at bay.

And then Daemron the Slayer appeared.

Cassandra was pulled back to consciousness by the clamor of battle and the cackling laughter of Rexol ringing through her mind. As awareness came back to her, she instantly recognized Rexol, despite the unfamiliar form he now wore.

He was standing on the beach less than ten yards away from where she lay, his arms reaching up to the unnatural storm raging above him. As he had in Callastan, he was gorging himself on the power of Old Magic, gathering Chaos until it filled him and spilled out into the mortal world. But this time, Cassandra realized with dawning horror, his madness had actually brought the Legacy down.

Strange, dark spheres dotted the island—passages to a realm far beyond the mortal world. Through them came scores of grotesquely mutated beings, driven by hate and hunger. On the other side of the spheres she could sense thousands more lying in wait; the gibbering masses of Daemron’s twisted army.

Two figures fought bravely against the Slayer’s vanguard. A young Islander woman wielding a wondrous Sword mowed down wave after wave of the invaders while a young man she recognized as Rexol’s apprentice unleashed devastating Chaos magic against them.

But her attention was ripped away from the heroic pair by the arrival of a God. She had never seen Daemron but she recognized him instantly: He glowed with the power of an Immortal.

A red-skinned giant, he stood over eight feet tall, his naked, muscular torso perched atop powerful legs ending in heavy hooves. A pair of thick horns curled up from his head, and he hovered a foot above the battlefield on a pair of massive leathery wings, his long tail whipping back and forth in eager anticipation of victory.

His arrival seemed to rally his troops, and suddenly the tide of battle shifted. The young woman’s advance through the enemy ranks stalled, and she was forced into a fighting retreat.

Tilting his head back, Daemron roared to the sky. His voice snuffed out the fiery rain and deadly lightning of the young wizard, and his forces surged forward.

“Rexol!” Cassandra screamed, trying to reach him with both her mind and her voice. “Help them!”

Somehow, her cry pierced the veil of his insanity, and Rexol turned his attention from the sky toward the battle.

“The Crown is mine!” he shouted, his voice echoing across the island and in her head.

He began to laugh, a shrill, high-pitched sound that drove itself into the back of Cassandra’s skull. The violet storm clouds gathered above him swooped down and enveloped Daemron and his army, gripping them all in the mage’s madness.

The hideous swarm turned on itself. Instead of attacking the humans, the creatures fell on each other with wild, reckless abandon. They bit and slashed with tooth and claw, furiously ripping and tearing at anything and everything within reach. Even Daemron was affected: the Slayer landing in the middle of the battlefield to unleash slaughter on his own followers.

The Islander and the young wizard staggered away from the bloody carnage, falling back to stand side by side on the edge of the beach, watching in dumbfounded amazement. Inside Cassandra’s head, Rexol’s maniacal laughter continued unabated.

The bloodlust that possessed him faded after only a few seconds, but in that short time Daemron had already butchered dozens.

The Crown is even more powerful than I remember!

Spreading his wings he launched himself skyward, away from the mindless bloodbath.

Seeing Orath standing on the beach wearing his Crown, he suspected treachery at first. But then he realized it was not Orath but a mortal who had possessed the Minion’s body.

“I am a God!” he cried out, once more trying to use the Talisman to dominate Daemron’s mind. “Kneel before me!”

But this time the Slayer was prepared, and he resisted the compulsion.

“Obey me!” the mortal shrieked. “I command you to kneel!”

Daemron dropped from the sky like a stone, hitting the earth with a heavy thud. But instead of kneeling, he scooped up a crude axe left behind by one of the fallen. With a mighty flap of his wings the Slayer took to the sky again and sent the axe flying end over end.

The heavy blade buried itself in Orath’s long, thin face, cleaving the front of his skull wide open. The force of the blow sent the Crown flying backward, and the mortal who had dared to use one of his own Talismans against him toppled over, dead.

K
EEGAN WAS ALMOST
grateful when the dull, heavy thud of the axe burying itself in Rexol’s face put an end to the wizard’s insane laughter inside his head. But with Rexol’s death, the purple clouds hovering over the battlefield began to dissipate.

Reinforcements were already coming through the breach, though as they arrived they were struck with the same killing frenzy that had decimated the first wave. But it wouldn’t be long before the spell evaporated completely and the Chaos horde once more rallied against them.

We have to strike now!
Keegan thought. The Crown had affected Daemron—clearly he wasn’t immune to his own Talismans. Together, the Ring and the Sword could take the Slayer down!

“Now’s our chance, Keegan!” Scythe shouted as she rushed forward, obviously coming to the same conclusion.

Daemron was still flying twenty feet above the battlefield. Keegan felt him gathering Chaos, possibly to dispel the last of the purple clouds. Seizing on the opportunity to strike while his enemy was distracted, he called upon the Ring to knock the Slayer from the sky.

A ferocious gust of wind sprang up out of nowhere and sent Daemron spinning wildly out of control. Focusing his will, Keegan lashed out again, and a powerful downdraft sent him plummeting toward the ground.

At the last instant he managed to pull up and spread his wings to slow his descent, and he landed heavily but not hard enough to be injured. And then Scythe was on him.

She and the Sword moved as one in a beautiful dance of death. She attacked with a perfect combination of grace, precision, speed, and strength. The Slayer fought back by slashing at her with his fearsome claws and lashing out with his long tail. But his blows failed to make contact; over and over he struck the empty air where Scythe had been a split second before.

First blood went to Scythe, the Sword biting deep into Daemron’s thigh. He managed to knock her off-balance by buffeting her with one of his wings and tried to follow up with a vicious butt of his horned head. Scythe ducked at the last instant and drove her blade up toward the Slayer’s throat.

Daemron slapped the blade aside, but the edge sliced open his palm. He tried to retreat, but Scythe was too quick and she cut him off. He tried to take to the skies, but Keegan summoned another gust of air to knock him back to the ground.

Scythe leapt forward, but this time Daemron was ready. He dropped into a crouch and wrapped his wings around him in a protective cocoon. The Sword bit into the tough, leathery flesh but couldn’t cut through it, catching Scythe by surprise. Taking advantage, Daemron lashed out with his tail, sweeping her feet out from beneath her.

Before he could leap atop his prone opponent, Keegan thrust the Ring to the sky. A wall of Chaos flames shot up between the two combatants, and Daemron stumbled backward. It lasted only a second, but it was enough for Scythe to get back on her feet.

We’re winning!
Keegan thought, but in the back of his mind he knew they were running out of time. If Scythe didn’t finish this soon, they’d once again be fighting both Daemron and his entire army.

Cassandra forced herself to stand. She was still exhausted, but she knew what had to be done. Somehow, Keegan and the Islander were battling Daemron to a standstill, but they needed her to stop the monstrous army from coming to the Slayer’s aid.

The Crown had flown twenty feet from where Rexol’s body had fallen. She staggered over and picked the Talisman up. Steeling her resolve, she placed it atop her head.

To her shock, without Rexol’s intrusive presence battling against her, the Crown didn’t threaten to overwhelm her with its limitless power. Instead, it revitalized and energized her, washing away her fatigue.

She also realized that she could suddenly see into the minds of Keegan and the Islander.
Scythe. Her name is Scythe!

Suddenly she understood why they had been here, waiting for her arrival. They’d come to stop her from accidentally destroying the Legacy.

You are one of us,
Keegan said to her, speaking without words as he felt the touch of the Crown brushing up against his thoughts.
We were all born under the Blood Moon. We are all touched by Chaos and bound by fate.

She saw that it was true, the connection of their birth allowing her to peer inside the young mage’s mind.

Leave the Slayer to us,
Scythe chimed in.
You just stop the army!

The purple clouds that had turned Daemron’s army against itself were gone, and reinforcements pouring through the still-expanding black spheres had swelled the enemy numbers to over a thousand. They were no longer ripping out each other’s throats, but she could sense they were still dazed from what had happened.

Knowing they would still be vulnerable to suggestion, Cassandra pushed out with her mind in a piercing mental scream.

Flee!

Hundreds of the enemy turned and ran, scattering across the island. Others simply dropped to the ground and cowered in fear, buying Keegan and Scythe a few more moments of precious time.

Their terror wouldn’t last long. And the next time, Cassandra knew, they’d be less susceptible to the Crown’s power. But at least she’d bought them some time.

Still, reinforcements continued to pour through as the Legacy continued to crumble, and Cassandra knew even the Crown wouldn’t be strong enough to stop them all.

Scythe heard Cassandra’s scream, but it wasn’t directed at her and she felt no ill effect. Daemron also seemed oblivious; he seemed to have learned how to protect himself after what Rexol had done to him.

He’s getting stronger the longer this lasts,
she realized.

She was still the one pressing the fight, but her advantage wasn’t what it had once been. With every pass, Daemron seemed to ward off her attacks with greater ease.

He’s learning my moves. Studying me and my tactics.

The realization spurred her into an all-out assault, trying to take him down while she still had the upper hand. Daemron was driven back once more, a desperate retreat as he flailed and floundered against the ferocious assault. But somehow he still managed to keep her from dealing any kind of serious damage, dodging or deflecting her blows with his impenetrable wings.

He’s gathering Chaos!
Keegan warned, his thoughts transferred through Cassandra and the Crown via the bond they all shared.

Scythe stepped back and threw the Sword up in front of her as Daemron breathed out a jet of blue fire. The flames struck the Sword and were swallowed up, absorbed by the Talisman. But the Slayer wasn’t finished. He followed up the thwarted attack by slamming a hoof into the ground.

Scythe’s world vanished in a flash of blue light and a ferocious bang. The next thing she knew she was flying backward through the air, swept away by a concussive blast of magic. She landed hard on the beach, a full fifty feet away. Her clothes were torn and tattered from the detonation and the only sound she could hear was a single, high-pitched squeal.

Her mind was dazed from the impact, but some part of her instinctively knew she had broken several bones. Acting on instinct, she called upon the Sword to heal her wounds.

It was only then that she realized she no longer held the blade.

Keegan sensed Daemron’s spell an instant before it was unleashed. Keegan lashed out to counter it, striking quickly. He threw an invisible shield up around Scythe, but in his haste he wasn’t able to properly call on the full power of the Ring. The Slayer’s spell ripped through his shield unabated.

He’s getting stronger!

In horror he watched as Scythe was launched through the air by a powerful burst of Chaos. She slammed into the ground hard, where she lay motionless.

He took an involuntary step toward her, then heard Cassandra calling to him.

She’s alive. Grab the Sword!

The Talisman lay on the battlefield, pulsing with energy. It had absorbed enough of the blast to keep Scythe alive, but she hadn’t been able to hold on.

Daemron was rushing toward it, his own reserves of Chaos temporarily drained. Calling on the Ring, Keegan was able to get to it first.

Hand extended out in front of him, he used Chaos to call the Sword. It leapt from the ground and flew toward him, the hilt slapping itself into his waiting palm.

In a flash Daemron changed course and rushed at Keegan. The young wizard felt a rush of power coursing through his body—his muscles coming to life in response to the Sword’s call to battle.

He met the Slayer head-on, confident the combination of the Ring and the Sword would bring him victory. But though his body was faster and stronger than it had ever been, he wasn’t anywhere near as skilled as Scythe. Instead of the smooth, deadly dance, he felt disjointed and awkward as he hacked away at his foe.

The Slayer batted his first clumsy attacks aside, then tore open Keegan’s cheek with his long, sharp nails. Keegan managed to parry a slash from his enemy’s tail but was sent reeling by a fist to the jaw.

Keegan called on the Ring to defend himself, but Daemron was too close. Before he could summon enough Chaos to do anything, the Slayer had picked him up and lifted him above his head.

Daemron slammed Keegan’s body to the ground, face-first, stunning him. Somehow, Keegan managed to hold on to the Sword as all the air rushed out of his body. A heavy hoof slammed down on his lower back, shattering the vertebrae.

Scooping the fallen wizard up, Daemron raised him above his head a second time.

Throw him!
Cassandra cried out, her command hitting them with a frantic urgency far greater than anything Rexol had been able to muster.

Daemron hurled Keegan through the sky instead of slamming him down at his feet. Still clutching the Ring and the Sword, he landed on the beach at Cassandra’s feet.

Attack!
she screamed at the cowering remnants of Daemron’s army. In response, they leapt to their feet and threw themselves at the Slayer.

“They won’t slow him for long,” she told Keegan. “Use the Sword to heal yourself and Scythe and give her the Talisman. Together we can defeat him.”

In that instant, Keegan finally understood.

“No,” he said to Cassandra. “We can’t.”

Everything finally made sense to him. Jerrod’s visions of a savior bathed in flames. His own dreams of being overwhelmed by the Chaos horde. The recurring image of a flaming giant towering over him. At last it was clear.

“It has to be you, Cassandra. You’re the Burning Savior!”

Their minds still linked through the Crown, Cassandra experienced Keegan’s revelation even as it was happening.

When Scythe fought Daemron, he used magic to defeat her. The Sword alone wasn’t enough to protect her.

The Talismans were meant to be used in concert. But simply possessing the Talismans was not enough.

When Keegan had both the Ring and the Sword, he was no match for Daemron physically. He lacked the physical and mental training of a warrior. He didn’t know how to use the Sword.

Like all members of the Order, Cassandra had trained in the martial arts. And her flight with the Crown—hunted by the Minions—had given her a warrior’s will and strength of spirit.

I can use the Sword.

Rexol had given her training in the ways of magic. Through her dreams, she’d served an entire apprenticeship under the most powerful Chaos mage in the Southlands.

I can use the Ring.

And she already knew how to use the Crown. Her years in the Order had given her the necessary mental discipline to control it, even while wearing the Ring and wielding the Sword.

And you were born under the Burning Moon and touched by Chaos,
Keegan added, still connected to her through the Crown.
You are one of the Children of Fire.

Cassandra realized that her entire life had been leading up to this moment. Everything that had happened to her—everything she had ever learned and done—had been for this one purpose. Her early days under Rexol as a young child. Her years studying in the Monastery, learning the ways of the Order, ingraining the mental discipline to use the Crown and mastering the martial abilities required to use the Sword. Her endless flight, strengthening her will. Her recent apprenticeship to Rexol, learning the Mage’s art so she could control the Ring. No other person had her unique combination of abilities, training, and experience. She was the only one who could stop the Slayer.

“I
am
the Burning Savior,” she said aloud.

She took the Sword from Keegan’s grasp. Then she slipped the Ring from his finger and placed it on her own.

The infinite power of all three Talismans flowed through her—Old Magic, forged by the True Gods. It was incredible. Exhilarating. Unlike anything she had ever experienced before.

It wasn’t like a river of Chaos rushing through her. Not even a flood. She could call upon an entire ocean, drawing on the pure essence of magic from the Burning Sea itself.