Lord Of The Freeborn (Book 7) (8 page)

The beasts did not relent, though.

A green-black serpent with putrid yellow eyes, and fangs that were curved and bathed in icor, raised its hooded head.

Will waved the broken stub of the bow before him like a dagger, glancing downward over his shoulder. The fall on the other side of the wall was easily five floors.

He was done for, but he preferred a fall from which he might recover to suffering what this beast would do, so Will closed his eyes and bent to leap.

His only thought as he rose into the air was
I hope I’ve given Garrick enough time.

Chapter 14

A waterfall’s rush of pure energy flowed over Garrick. It crashed against his hunger, splattered against his body, and rolled off his skin like he was oiled parchment. Everything ached. Everything burned.

But through the pain, his skin yearned for the current’s fire. His flesh cried out for its strength. His bones gave coarse, bittersweet grinds at their joints that were half pain and half ecstasy. Cycles of life filled him as he drew on the flow—pain, rebirth, sustenance, and death. Hair raised on his arms. Heat rose in his flesh. He opened his hands into the flow to feed on its currents, and as he fed, the hunger that raged around him abated to a simmering pool of carnivorous intent.

“You are a lucky man,” Braxidane said.

“I suspected you might show up, now,” Garrick replied.

The planewalker floated everywhere at once, a presence massive in the flow, hanging in Existence like a net that spanned the distance as far has Garrick could feel. A green finger of lightning traveled along his being, disappearing into the distant horizon.

“I would have helped you if I could,” Braxidane said.

“You lie so well you fool even yourself,” Garrick replied. “But I know you better than that. You would have helped if it was in your best interest.”

“You don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

“I understand well enough.”

Garrick pulled his hand from the flow, and felt the smugness of Braxidane’s smile without even seeing it.

“We are quite well matched,” Braxidane said.

“I am not like you.”

“Is that what you most fear, Garrick? That we are alike?”

“Be quiet, Braxidane. I still need to deal with your sister on Adruin. And unless you plan on helping me, you’re just in my way.”

“That is no way to speak to your superior.”

“You should listen to yourself sometime, Braxidane. You haven’t done a single thing as my superior.”

The energy that was Braxidane turned a faint shade of rose.

“I’ve taught you by providing experience.”

“Do you know what I think, Braxidane?”

“This should be good.”

“I think the whole thing is a sham. I think superiors are a crutch. I think a person who wants to learn magic, who truly desires to learn it, will do so all on their own. And I think true knowledge comes only when you are you free to find your own powers.”

Braxidane’s silence told him he was right.

The world around him seemed suddenly bigger.

The currents of Existence slowed, and he saw the juxtaposition of life force and sorcerous energy for what it truly was.

Magic was everywhere.

Magic was everything.

Portals loomed about him like targets. He could go anywhere he wanted, cast any magic, be anything. He saw the shimmering gap that led back to Adruin.

“I don’t need you, Braxidane,” he said. “I don’t need you.”

As he said this he felt a surge of power so bold it nearly crushed him. It was absolute control. It was freedom. It was, perhaps, true liberty.

Braxidane drew himself to something solid, and Garrick felt a gaze that might have been awe.

Braxidane gave a subtle shimmer. “You are going to confront Hezarin?”

“Of course.”

“Do you realize what will happen if you kill her.”

Garrick flexed his fingers. The energy of Existence flowed through him, and the aches in his joints faded as he soaked it up.

“I don’t care,” he said.

“You will.”

“Why are you always putting your problems onto someone else?”

“It will be your problem soon enough. Believe me.”

Garrick ignored him.

Braxidane shimmered once more. “Just know that if Hezarin dies while one a plane, it is permanent.”

Garrick smirked. “All I hear in that advice is that if I destroy her, she can’t return to plague us.”

Braxidane laughed.

“What?”

“Nothing, Garrick. It’s nothing.”

“I’m tired of playing your games, Braxidane. Either tell me what you’re thinking, or hold your tongue.”

“As you would,” the planewalker said.

Garrick paused, hackles rising on the back of his neck. Assuming they were still alive, Darien, Will, Ellesadil, and the whole of Adruin needed him. He couldn’t afford to get caught up any further in this game

He gathered his energy.

“I would love to pass time with you, Superior. But I have friends who need me—please do your best to understand.”

“I’m sure we will continue this discussion later,” Braxidane said.

“Perhaps,” Garrick replied. “Or perhaps not.”

He turned away from the planewalker and stepped into the portal that led to Adruin.

Chapter 15

Will felt the weightless moment at the crest of his leap.

Then the ground pulled at him.

He was going to die.

He realized this as he fell, faster and faster, his arms flailing, his hands and feet grasping with panic for holds in the nothingness of the nighttime cold. He realized it as the shadow covered ground rushed at him like an unyielding hammer.

He opened his mouth to scream.

Then a sudden force cinched around him, crushing his ribs like a huge fist. He felt heavy weight for a brief moment, then he was being lifted into the air. Was this Hezarin’s work? Was she delaying his pain for her gratification? He struggled against her binding.

He twisted to scream at her, but his voice stuck in his throat when he saw Garrick standing atop the walkway.

Garrick, Lord of the Freeborn, glowing with the starshine against the dark of night.

Garrick, god-touched, depositing him safely on the ground outside the government center wall.

Garrick had returned. Garrick had saved him.

Just as Will had known he would.

Will stood knee-deep in a snow bank.

The cold came back in full then, but Will ignored it. He felt the bottoms of his feet against the frozen ground below, but he didn’t care. He ignored the bitter wind that seemed to be everywhere at once.

He looked up to the deepest part of the sky above, that place where he had just been falling from, and he heard Garrick’s voice echo.

His heart beat a rapid fire rhythm. He raised a fist, and felt his chest nearly burst.

“Garrick!” he pumped his fist and called as the mage turned to join the battle. “Garrick!” he pumped again and called again as the mage disappeared on the other side of the wall. “Garrick!”

Suddenly the boy found himself crying.

Chapter 16

Garrick leapt from the wall and landed in the manor yard below. Snow melted around him, and raised a cloud of silvered mist that faded into the darkness.

Darien looked from the ground, his eyes crimson and bloodshot.

Hezarin’s face became a twisted mass.

She cast a river of fire at him.

He splayed his hands and ran life force through gates to meet it. Steam hissed and popped with an earsplitting boil. It was an easy magic now, effortless—his standard gates fell into place almost without his thought, and the energy of Existence flowed with obeisance he had never felt before.

He planted his feet before Hezarin with a new sense of confidence.

“This is my plane,” he said. “Get out.”

“Never.”

She growled and threw magic at him, creating wheeling discs with serrated edges that gave earsplitting screams as they arced through the air. He stood his ground, deflecting them left and right.

The planewalker’s desperation showed in her gaze. She hesitated, then reached her magic toward Darien, who was still defenseless on the ground. He gave a deep groan of pain.

“It’s you or him, Garrick. Which one of you dies?”

Garrick paused.

“I’ve given you your chance, Hezarin. Let no one say otherwise.”

The planewalker grunted. “I’ll take that for your answer.”

Darien gave a garbled groan.

Garrick raised his hands and a vortex flow of energy rose around him. The wind became a gale, and every fire in the vicinity bent toward him. Hezarin’s magic shredded into fragments, and spiraled into Garrick’s vortex, and Garrick fed on it, drinking it as a steady stream, molding it with his hands, his fingers moving over it like a weaver’s dance across the loom.

Hezarin gasped for breath. Her eyes widened as Garrick brought his spell to its end.

He dropped his hands.

The wind halted.

Darien had fallen free.

Snowflakes dropped in casual silence.

Then Darien shielded his face, as did Ellesadil.

But Will, who had run back to the front gates, watched it all.

He watched as Garrick reached into Hezarin and pulled her life force into himself, watched as the planewalker screamed in agony, watched as she buckled at the knees, then the waist. He watched as Garrick drew her in with a breath that grew deeper and deeper, an inhale that seemed to never end.

Will watched as Garrick’s entire body pulsed crimson and golden and blue and black, watched as Garrick destroyed the planewalker and took on a power like none had existed since perhaps the dawn of Starshower itself.

Chapter 17

The scars of battle smoldered in the cold darkness. Voices sounded in the distance. Fires crackled throughout the city despite the damp snow.

Garrick stood in the courtyard, the aura of power fading, but not quite dissipating. He felt the pull of the city, heard cries of the wounded. Power coursed through his senses. He felt fullness. Intense warmth bled from every pore.

Darien used his father’s sword to help him stand up between Garrick and Ellesadil.

“I’m glad you returned,” Garrick said to him.

“I came back for the city.”

Garrick saw Darien’s hurt then, the depth of the humiliation Garrick had caused. Yet still his friend would die defending Dorfort.