Here Shines the Sun (82 page)

Raygar began to push past Egret but Egret grabbed the man by the collar of his breastplate and shoved him back.

“Lord Raygar,” warned Egret. “I am Commander of the Durotonian Guard. As a Dark Star Knight, you fall under my command.” He turned to Gregin and then motioned with his had at the Keepers. “Lord Gregin, you and the Keepers escort the Council from this Hill.”

Gregin nodded. He looked at the Keepers, but Etheil could see that they were in some sort of daze, like they had just awoken from a nightmare to realize that their own commander was dead.

“No, you must listen to the Council.” said Rennic, slinking forward on his horse, and all at once the Keepers gave pause. “The Council is Exalted. Listen to what Lord Balin tells you.”

Gregin gripped at his head. He rubbed at his hair, looking back and forth from Balin to Egret, as if unable to decide who he should listen to. Rennic Finn clapped and giggled.

“Enough!” boomed Egret. He grabbed Gregin by the collar of his armor and shook him from his trance. “Don’t hear his words!” He looked around at the Keepers and Raygar and the other Dark Star Knights. “Don’t listen to that fiend! Don’t let his words pass your ears!” Then he pointed at Rennic. “Enough of your magic!”

Rennic smiled a big, rictus, clown-like smile. “Lord Egret, have Gregin kill Etheil.” he spoke. “You should do it. Have him do it! Tell him to cut off his head!”

“Gregin,” said Egret, almost absentmindedly. “Cut off Etheil’s—” Egret paused and gripped at his hair, then he shook his head. When he turned his gaze back to Rennic it was more fiery than ever. “What fiend are you? What devilry do you possess?” He turned to Gregin. “Arrest that man!”

Gregin nodded. “My pleasure.” He drew his sword and tossed aside his shroud. His blade came to life in a rush of water, as if all the power of a great river flowed against the blade. Mist sprayed in the wind as he stormed forward.

Rennic scowled. “Kill them! Kill them all, my Lord!”

“Kill them.” ordered Balin. “Kill them all.”

Rennic giggled and then clapped. “
Kill them!
” He threw his head back, and a terrible laughter filled the air.

Raygar’s sword ignited into its soft glow. Around him, the other Dark Star Knights’ weapons began to come to life. The Keepers stepped forward, their own swords igniting. Then Raygar turned toward Gregin and dashed forward.

“Gregin!” yelled Egret above Rennic’s terrible, consuming laughter. He tossed away his own shroud and ignited Thundercracker. His sword began to dance with crackling electricity as the Dark Star Knights moved in on him. Gregin turned around just in time to meet Raygar’s sword, a powerful spray, like an oceanic waterspout, breaking over Raygar’s chest, pushing him backward.

Etheil drew Firebrand and it ignited into roaring flames that bent against the winds. He stepped toward Egret as a dozen Keepers, all with swords fully ignited into ice or fire, stone or electricity, began closing in on him.

“They are under some spell.” said Egret, flourishing his sword. “Do not kill them. It’s Rennic’s laughter; his voice.”

Etheil could hardly hear Egret over that incessant giggling. “What do we do then?”

“I’ll hold all of these off. You get that fiend. But whatever you do, do not hear his words. Do not let him speak to you. He’s some sort of devil.” said Egret. He flourished his sword. “I’ll clear a path for you.”

All at once the Keepers and the Dark Star Knights surged in on them from all sides. A swirling disc of dust and wind swept up around Lord Egret and he cast it forward at the Dark Star Knights. Etheil rushed behind it as the knights swirled up their own auras, but all of theirs combined were no match for Egret’s. Some of them leapt over it, others were tossed aside, and Etheil managed to slip past their ranks, whirling Firebrand and tumbling to get past the last of them.

As he rolled up to his feet he saw Gregin before him. He was beset by two of the Council’s knights as well as Raygar. Gregin swept his turbulent, watery blade around, mist spraying in all directions as he knocked aside the two knights. But then Raygar was on him, his sword and body glowing with an orange hue.

Etheil heard the buzz and pop of Egret’s sword behind him. It crackled with lightning as he worked it against the Keepers who came behind him and the Dark Star Knights before him. Etheil was about to make his run toward Rennic and the Council when he saw Raygar’s sword catch Gregin’s in a powerful parry that spun him around. Gregin’s back was now toward Raygar, and the orange, glowing sword was raised toward his head. “Gregin!” yelled Etheil.

Gregin turned just as Etheil threw his sword, catching it up in his swirling aura. He cast it all at Raygar’s weapon, and as Firebrand spun forward it knocked Rampart from Raygar’s grasp. But Raygar was quick. While the orange glow still encompassed him, he leapt at Gregin. Gregin tried to get his sword out, but Raygar’s fist hit him like a wrecking ball. His breastplate crumpled as he fell, Raygar on top of him. And then, just before the last of the orange glow faded from his body, Raygar brought his fist down again. There was a sickening crunch of bone. Blood flew from Gregin’s ruined head. And then Raygar pounced to grab his sword from the ground.

Firebrand returned to Etheil’s hand. As it did, he saw Egret fall to a knee as an icy blade from one of the Keepers sheared away his pauldron. Thundercracker exploded with electricity as Egret knocked a purple-glowing blade away and then rolled just as another purple blade came in with lightning speed. There was a deep and resounding
crack
that made the entire bridge vibrate as the blade made purchase on the stone.

Egret kicked himself back to his feet, and now Raygar was on him. But all Etheil could think to do was shut Rennic Finn up. The incessant giggling was maddening, permeating everything. He leapt up, his unseen gravitational force swirling beneath his feet, driving him forward, Firebrand extended. Balin and the other Councilmen all moved their horses around Rennic, shielding him. As Etheil came upon them, Hymnar’s horse reared up but Etheil dropped to the ground and rolled, Firebrand searing the horse in half as he tumbled beneath it, the Councilman tossed away.

He came up before Rennic. The vampiric man’s giggling stopped as his icy, blue eyes realized that Etheil had gotten through. Rennic tugged his reins, wheeling his horse around, but Etheil spun in, sweeping his sword up and Rennic’s horse crumpled and screamed as its legs were cut away, chunks of seared meat thumping on the ground. He yanked Rennic up by an arm and drew his fist back. There was a loud
crack
as Rennic’s head turned to the side, and the man buckled and fell at his feet.

Etheil turned, and all at once the battle seemed to stop. Raygar and the other knights lowered their weapons, looking around as if they had just come out of a deep slumber. Even Balin and the other Councilmen were shaking their heads, as if finally realizing what had been happening.

“That man is some sort of witch!” shouted Etheil, pointing his sword behind him toward the fallen Rennic. “Don’t listen to him! His laughter is some sort of bewitchment!”

“Etheil, watch out!” cried Egret.

Etheil turned. Behind him, Rennic Finn stood up… And up and up. He became a giant, crouching harlequin. His face was white as if powdered with makeup; his lips red, smiling and pulled into a horrific, exaggerated smile. Rather than a fool’s hat, a pair of long horns curled over his head and rang with infernal, iron bells that dangled from their sharp points. The outfit he wore was no longer black leather, but a motley discordance of nefarious purples and reds with green tights giving way to spiraling shoes tipped with more of those dreadful jingle bells.

Etheil was dwarfed by the monster, and he backed away. As he did, it began to cackle and spread out its arms, displaying its pale hands. From each finger, Etheil noticed silver threads dangling. He saw they were connected to Balin and the other Councilmen. He turned, and saw that more were connected to Raygar and the other Dark Star Knights. The strings that connected to the Keepers were thinner and finer, as if they had not yet had time to fully take hold. Etheil watched as delicate strands waved like broken spiderwebs near Egret, unattached and recoiling from him like snakes surprised to have been bitten back. Etheil turned back to the monstrous jester before him.

“
Time for the puppet show
!” The harlequin demon began cackling. It flapped its hand, and like a limp, wooden puppet being animated, Balin’s arms flopped and he said in a caricaturized voice, “Get them! Get them all!”

Raygar and his men hopped, flopped and flapped like marionettes around Egret as the jester fluttered his fingers. Others began to descend upon Etheil.

“Die! Die! Die!” chirped Balin, hopping like a puppet jerked by strings from his saddle.

Etheil saw Egret taken asunder by a sea of Dark Star Knights. He flourished Firebrand, but he could not in good conscience attack. These men were not themselves. They were being controlled by witchcraft. “Egret!” he yelled.

He watched as arms wrapped around Egret’s neck and waist; fists gripped his arms and legs.

Balin hopped in his saddle, his arms flapping, his jaw moving up and down like it was made of rigid wood, “You wanted to know what the Dark Holds are? How about you find out!”

The other Councilmen all began bouncing in their saddles, laughing.

“Egret!” yelled Etheil.

“Flee!” he heard Egret shout. “Flee before it’s too late! Warn Dagrir! Warn everyone!”

The Keepers began prancing up toward Etheil. He turned, just in time to see the jester’s foot rising up to stomp him. Without a thought, Etheil leapt from the bridge just as the foot crashed down. With every ounce of strength he had, he swirled his gravitational powers around him. He felt his power lightening his body, but he was still falling too fast. He felt the wind whipping against him; saw the green of the fields below coming up on him. The very fabric of his body burned as he desperately flexed all the power he could muster. He felt the swirling force encompass him. He felt the branches of a tree scrape his face and body, and then his legs crumpled and the breath was knocked from his lungs.

Etheil opened his eyes. He lay upon the ground for a moment, a terrible pain in his legs and waist muddling his consciousness. He rolled over onto his back. Above he could see the bridge. He saw that terrible, monstrous jester upon it; its wide, yellow eyes staring at him, its cackling filling the air.

Etheil tried to pick himself up, but fell back, hitting his head upon the ground. Then, a short distance away, he saw Warmouth laying upon the grass. He reached out his arm and dragged himself forward, inch by inch. Finally, the sword was in his grasp, and his fingers wrapped around the handle.

Etheil screamed in pain as he struggled to his feet the best he could, using Firebrand and Warmouth as crutches. It was difficult, as the swords sunk into the earth. He didn’t know how he did it, the world a blur of agony, but he got to his feet. He could feel his shins and femurs bend when he put too much weight on his legs. He growled as he took Warmouth from the ground and hobbled forward a step and then collapsed.

Etheil lay upon his back. High above he saw that monstrous harlequin and all his puppets making their way into the southern citadel. They were coming for him, he knew. He turned his head. There was a creek nearby, he could hear its trickling waters. He managed to get Firebrand back in its sheath, and he tucked Warmouth beneath the belt of his scabbard.

“Ahhrgh!” Etheil clenched tears from his eyes as he rolled. He rolled again and again, his legs burning. With another scream he rolled and his body plopped into shallow water. He felt the coolness rush beneath his armor, and for a moment the pain in his legs ceased. But only for a moment. He rolled onto his stomach. He was facing the direction of the creek’s current, and it headed eastward toward the line of the forest. He reached out his arm and pulled himself forward, the current helping to push him, and his body sliding on the muddy bottom. Now he used both arms and pulled himself along as quickly as he could, letting the creek take as much of his weight as he could.

On the air drifted that horrible giggling.

— 39 —

Dreams

Infinite blackness spread out in all directions, lit by a single, tiny spark that scintillated out into many points. The white brilliance of that last star was mesmerizing to Eulalee. In dreams such as this she would stare at it for hours, though she never dared approach, for she was terrified of what came for it. She watched from her place beside the earth and moon as a great dragon flowed like a current of darkness toward the star. It was blacker than the emptiness of space that surrounded it; a lightless void of immeasurable size that writhed in the boundless scope. The sight of the dragon was as enthralling as the star, though she would always turn from it if its eyes began orbiting toward her. The eyes were frightening and terrible. They were twin suns that burned as if in their death throes, wanting to consume everything in their fiery avarice. She didn’t know why the creature invaded her dreams, turning them from pleasant dances across the earth and moon into nightmares, but she knew why it was out there. It was there to devour the stars.

Every time a star fell her dream was the same. The black dragon tore it from its place in heaven and it crumbled like so much sparkling dust between its claws. When Eulalee was just a little girl there were a few dozen stars and in her dreams she would skip across the heavens, taking in their warmth and light. Today there was but one left. She didn’t know how long it would take the dragon to reach it, but once it did there would be nothing left in her dreams to return here for; nothing left to watch; no more warmth in the heavens to take in. The thought of a cold, dead expanse wasn’t very appealing to her and she wondered if she would ever come here again. She also wondered what the dragon would come for once the final star fell. Out of the corner of her eye she caught the sight of the earth and moon, and she shivered and turned from the sight of the beast.

It was then that Eulalee saw blue eyes, like twin gems, staring at her from behind the edge of the moon. Apparently not keen on her having taken notice, Eulalee saw pointy ears flatten and the face ducked behind the silver disc of the moon. Curious, Eulalee floated toward the moon and a sapphire wolf striped with amethyst bounded from it and into the heavens, leaving a trail of glittering dust in his wake.

Eulalee smiled. She floated toward the wolf and he watched her with suspicion, his head held low and his front leg out, ready to bolt away at any moment. “Hello.” said Eulalee. She reached out her hand. “Who are you?”

The wolf swished his tail and licked his maw. He made a whine and turned toward the earth.

“Please, don’t go.” said Eulalee. “I won’t hurt you.”

The wolf gave pause and returned his aquamarine eyes to her.

With her hand out before her, Eulalee drifted slowly toward the strange wolf. She wanted to stroke her hand through his fur and pet him. She had never seen the creature in her dreams before, though somehow he seemed familiar to her. “It’s okay.” she said softly as she came closer to the wolf. “I won’t hurt you.” Eulalee stretched her fingers out, but just before she was able to feel his fur, the wolf leapt from her range, leaving a trail of sparkling dust. The wolf barked at her.

Eulalee laughed as she waved her hand through the glitter he left. It felt like sparks, warm and pleasant to her fingers. She looked at the wolf and laughed again as she moved toward him.

The wolf barked again and bounded some distance from her.

Eulalee closed her eyes and breathed deeply as she swam through the sparkling dust of his pawprints, bathing in its soothing effervescence. She opened her eyes and looked at the wolf and he let loose a couple of playful barks and began dancing around her. A huge smile stretched across Eulalee’s face and she spread her arms wide and twirled, letting the wolf’s stardust swirl around her body. The wolf barked again and Eulalee reached out her hand, but the wolf slipped away before she could touch him. Laughing, Eulalee gave chase.

The wolf swished his tail to the right as he turned left, throwing Eulalee off. Then he circled back around her and Eulalee smiled as his soft tail caressed her cheek as he past. “What’s your name?”

The wolf barked at Eulalee and leapt, bounding over her head. She reached her hand up into the bow of falling glitter and then turned to him. He was sitting a short distance from her, a long tongue hanging from his jaws and something of a smile upon his muzzle.

“My name is Eulalee.” she said, crouching low. She held out her hand and the wolf’s eyes fixed on it. “Won’t you let me pet you?”

The wolf seemed to appraise her for a moment, and then he stood up and slowly padded toward her, leaving more trails of stardust as he came. His big, black nose filled Eulalee’s hand as he buried it in her palm, his breath wuffling as he took in her scent. Then she felt the warm wetness of his tongue between her fingers.

Eulalee smiled brightly. “There you go.” she said softly as she brought her other hand up and slowly stroked behind his ear. The wolf looked at her and Eulalee cocked her head as she took in his face. It was so expressive that she was certain he was something more than just a beast. “You seem familiar. Have we met before?”

The wolf made a whining sound and turned his head left toward the empty blackness of space. He seemed to point into the distance with his nose.

“Over there?” asked Eulalee. “What’s over there?”

The wolf turned back to her and whined some more. There was something in his sad expression that suddenly gave Eulalee understanding. “Over there? We met over there?”

The wolf pressed his head against Eulalee’s chest as if wanting a hug, and Eulalee obliged by wrapping her arms around his shaggy body. “I don’t remember that dream.” she said.

The wolf pulled back from her and fixed her with his eyes. She couldn’t be sure, but the wolf seemed as if he were contemplating something; as if he wanted to
say
something to her. She supposed that wolves could speak in the abstract realm of dreams and she stroked her hand over his body and said, “What is it, boy? You can tell me.”

The wolf’s nostrils flared as he took in a breath. His jaws began to open, his lips moving as if they possessed the articulation for speech, but then his eyes fixed on something behind her and he padded backward and barked.

Eulalee craned her neck around. In the blackness there was a faint glow that began to resolve into a blinding-white form. Eulalee raised her arm to her head and closed her eyes, and when next she opened them, she saw Erygion encompassed by the glow of his Caliber. At his side was Karinael. They appeared diaphanous, like one of her drawings hanging on a sunny window.

“Eulalee! Eulalee!” cried Erygion. His voice sounded so distant, as if it had already traveled an eternity through the vastness of space.

Eulalee smiled faintly at them and gently waved her hand. For some reason Karinael made Eulalee feel shy. Eulalee drifted back from them, wanting to return to her games with the wolf, but Erygion beckoned to her again.

Eulalee heard the wolf whine. She turned and saw him nod at her. He nudged his head in the direction of Erygion and Karinael and then nodded at her again and let out a happy-sounding bark. And then he turned from her.

“Wait, don’t go!” cried Eulalee, but it was too late. The wolf bounded toward the bright, blue orb of earth and disappeared.

Eulalee turned back to Erygion and Karinael. She didn’t know why the two Saints were showing up in her dreams. It had started with Erygion not so very long ago, after he had told her he was leaving for Duroton. She had a nightmare where Erygion was sinking into a watery abyss, being drowned by a creature with black tentacles. In her dream she had pulled him from the monster’s clutches, but she didn’t remember much else, although that terrible, yellow eye in the dark water still haunted her. Over the last couple of years she had become friends with Erygion and she figured the dreams were a symptom of her missing him and wondering if he was okay.

“Eulalee, you must listen to me,” urged Erygion. “There is something you must do.”

“I know.” said Eulalee. “I’ve kept your secret.” In many ways, she said it to reassure herself. Before he fled Sanctuary, Erygion tasked her with something she didn’t know if she could fulfill, and didn’t know if she could keep secret. Maximiel had nearly stumbled upon it the day he threw Preil from her window. Perhaps it was the burden of this secret that was eating at her and manifesting Erygion within her dreams? “Have you made it to Duroton yet? I’m going to receive my Call to Guard. The Holy Few told me that they are going to have Nuriel apprentice me.”

“Eulalee, you must be careful around Nuriel.” said Karinael.

It was common knowledge at Sanctuary that Karinael and Nuriel had been good friends in their youth, and that Nuriel apprenticed Karinael as a Saints Caliber. Eulalee assumed Karinael appeared in her dreams as a product of having been told that she would apprentice with Nuriel too. A few nights ago Erygion and Karinael had appeared in her dreams to ask her to shepherd them to a Saint named Hadraniel. Eulalee didn’t understand the encounter, but her dreams were often confusing. She had stopped trying to make sense of them long ago.

“Eulalee, our time grows short.” said Erygion. He and Karinael drifted toward Eulalee. “You have to listen to me. There is a woman named Celacia in Duroton. You need to try to reach out to her with your Caliber. You need to find her, and guide Hadraniel to her.”

Eulalee moved away from them. She didn’t have time to be drawn into another strange dream right now. “I have to go. Nuriel is receiving her honorific today and I want to watch.”

“Eulalee, wait!” cried Erygion as she continued drifting back from him and Karinael. “Our time dwindles! Please, listen to me while you can! Reach out to Celacia with your Caliber! You can find her! Reach your Caliber toward the place of death!”

Eulalee shook her head. Erygion knew her Caliber had the ability to touch upon the realm of the dead. He had tried to get her to find Celacia before, but Eulalee was terrified of that realm and she walled it off from her Caliber. Whenever she touched upon it she would be flooded by a thousand disparate voices, each one wanting something from her. Eulalee had heard the stories of Saint Asriel who had the power to hear the whispers of the dead. Asriel disappeared from Sanctuary many years ago, and it was rumored that she had gone mad and thrown herself from the peaks of Mount Empyrean. The last thing Eulalee wanted was to end up mad.

Eulalee shook her head at Erygion. “I’m sorry, I have to go now.”

“Eulalee, wait!” cried Erygion, but Eulalee drifted from their sight, disappearing around the silver disc of the moon.

Eulalee’s dream now shifted, and she found herself but a grain of sand floating before the colossal, turbulent, burning-white wrath of the lone star. Pressure waves of radiant energy spilled over her, whipping her crimson hair back and cascading out in all directions across the heavens. Eulalee smiled and spread her arms wide, taking in the star’s warmth and energy. But then a coldness engulfed her.

Eulalee spun around. In the unending blackness of the heavens, that immeasurable shadow encroached upon her and the star. Even from this distance the dragon’s head was all consuming, and the star was but a fragile bauble to its greatness. Its eyes were like dying suns—massive, fiery, fierce and full of molten wrath. They focused upon Eulalee, and she found herself frozen in terror.

“
Little thing,”
it spoke, and the power of its voice sent ripples coursing across the surface of the star.
“I once warned you that the hour was late, but you did not heed my words. You should not have come here. The end is nigh!
”

The beast’s jaws opened wide. Its fangs were the very pillars of the universe; its throat the lightless void of nothingness. Eulalee screamed as her body was ripped into a cloud of atoms, spiraling into a crushing, inescapable doom.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Eulalee sat up from her desk with a start, her chest heaving beneath her steel breastplate. It took her a moment to realize she was in her dorm room with the gray light of an overcast day streaming through her window. The curtains fluttered with a chilly, mountain breeze and Eulalee shivered beneath her gown. She dropped the pencil that was in her hand and rubbed at her eyes. Then she looked down at what she had been drawing before having dozed off. It was a picture of a black serpent. Its clawed hands were wrapped around a star and its jaws wide to devour it.

With a frown, Eulalee rolled up the drawing and set it aside. She looked back at her window and sucked her bottom lip as she contemplated whether or not she should actually go through with her plan to sneak into the Saints Garden. Rumors had spread throughout Sanctuary that Saint Nuriel was to receive her honorific today. The ceremony was known as the Cremation of Burden, where one of the Saints Caliber was given an honorific title for a special accomplishment, and the burden of the deed was cast away. Like a Call to Guard ceremony, it was a private affair and very few were allowed to attend. Eulalee, of course, had not been invited but she did know of a way in which she could catch a glimpse of the ceremony. Nuriel was her favorite Saint, and would also soon be her mentor. She couldn’t let the chance to see Nuriel receive such an honor just slip away.