Mistress Of The Ages (In Her Name, Book 9) (41 page)

Risking one more look, she caught sight of Keel-Tath, the white of her hair standing out against the black stone, staring down at her.

Darting back as another volley of shrekkas came whistling down, she turned to the builders. “Quickly!”

Their silent communion over, one of the builders knelt to the floor, placing one hand against the stone, while grasping the other builder’s hand. The second builder, leaning out over the broken edge of the steps, extended her free hand toward the open space between the spiral stairs and the wall of the chamber. Motes of dust and debris began to drift into the air beyond her hand, faster and faster, until a dense cloud was swirling just beyond her fingertips. The cloud began to compress, coalescing into a crystalline web anchored to both the edge of the stairs and the wall. The glistening threads crisscrossed until the gaps in the webbing were no wider than a finger’s breadth.
 

“Step upon the web,” the standing builder breathed as he continued to focus on his task. “But beware: you shall be exposed to the enemy for a time.”

Without hesitation, the warriors did as the builder said, and were immediately taken under murderous attack from above. The warriors used their swords and daggers to fend off the shrekkas and pikes thrown by their enemies as Syr-Nagath herself stepped upon the platform. It looked insubstantial, the clear filaments as fine as hair, but she knew that it would support the weight of all the warriors with her, and more.

A moment later, the platform dropped away as the thousands of crystalline strands holding it to the stairs and wall began to grow longer. Faster and faster they grew, lengthening with such speed that Syr-Nagath and her warriors were nearly in free fall, plunging toward the bottom level.
 

She looked at the astonished enemy above and laughed. Seeing Keel-Tath’s face again, she laughed all the harder.

Nothing could stop her now.

***

Tara-Khan fought the pain, even as he poured what little of his life was left into holding open the portal. If he stepped forward or back, if he stopped the lightning from his hands, the portal would close, and close forever. No one, not even the child of prophecy, could ever open it again, and the Ka’i-Nur Crystal of Souls would be lost forever. If Keel-Tath had opened it and stepped inside to gain its powers, the portal would have closed behind her, trapping her for eternity. It was, in fact, a trap set by Anuir-Ruhal’te’s opponents in the last gasp of the Second Age. They had not been able to destroy the crystal or upset her other plans, but in the end they had hoped to trap her future offspring.
 

Using the ancient, fragmentary knowledge of the Books of Time, Ayan-Dar and Ria-Ka’luhr had conspired to spring the trap, and for that they needed someone with the powers of a priest who had shared blood and soul with Keel-Tath.
 

They had needed Tara-Khan.

The portal again began to close. Crying out with the effort, he sent another wave of lightning into the ravenous vortex. A healer valiantly tried to put healing gel on his hands, braving the lightning, but her efforts were in vain. The symbiont nearly died, and so did she. Sar-Ula’an pulled her away before it was too late.

In the brief moments he could spare from the intense concentration necessary to keep the portal open, he had seen Keel-Tath with his second sight. She was leading a small host of warriors, including his tresh Ka’i-Lohr and old friend Drakh-Nur, down the stairway. He could not understand why she did not simply step through space to be with him, and feared that she might be too late.
 

His legs finally gave way and he collapsed to his knees. But the lightning still flew from his hands, and would continue to do so until he took his last breath.

It was then that bedlam erupted behind him as Syr-Nagath and her warriors fell upon his companions.

***

“
Get back!
” Sar-Ula’an pushed the healer who had tried to help Tara-Khan against the wall of the chamber as a hundred, perhaps more, Ka’i-Nur warriors dropped to the floor with an unlikely grace for such hulking brutes. Sar-Ula’an had already formed the surviving warriors in a protective arc around Tara-Khan and the robed ones, but he knew it would not last long against their attackers.
 

But the odds did nothing to deter his fellow warriors. They met the Ka’i-Nur in a thundering crash of steel upon steel. Exhausted as he had been only a moment before, Sar-Ula’an felt renewed as he was taken by the power of the Bloodsong, which burned in his veins like molten fire.
 

The battle would have been over much sooner had not the builders, who were still gathered around the base of the column, caused another section of stairway to fall. Nearly half the Ka’i-Nur were crushed under the weight of the stones that came crashing down. The rear rank of those who survived saw the builders, however, and wrought a swift and bloody vengeance with their swords.

Sar-Ula’an witnessed the slaughter, but he could do to nothing to save them. Ducking low as an enemy war hammer swept through the air where his head had just been, he lunged forward, driving his blade through a gap in the enemy’s armor near the hip. The Ka’i-Nur fell with an agonized scream, and Sar-Ula’an took off his head before he hit the floor.
 

The builders’ gambit bought the defenders time, but not enough. The Ka’i-Nur were too big, too powerful, too numerous, and were not facing exhaustion. The tide quickly turned, and the enemy warriors began to smash their way toward Tara-Khan and the robed ones.
 

Then Sar-Ula’an saw her. Syr-Nagath. He had never set eyes upon her face, but there was no mistaking her. Of normal size and appearance, unlike the giants of pure Ka’i-Nur blood, she wore a cloak and had the rune of the Ka’i-Nur emblazoned upon her breast plate as if she were a priestess. He had heard of her prowess with a sword, and saw now as she swept through those who stood before her that the tales were true. As she felled another of his companions, he moved to meet her in battle.

He never got the chance. A pair of Ka’i-Nur warriors charged forth, blocking his path, and it was all he could do to fend off their frenzied attack. He watched as Syr-Nagath killed yet another of the defenders before coming to stand directly behind Tara-Khan, her sword raised high.
 

“
Tara-Khan!
” Sar-Ula’an tried to warn him, but the priest who was not a priest did not move. He could do nothing if he was to continue holding open the portal.

Syr-Nagath then did a most unexpected thing: completely ignoring Tara-Khan, she sheathed her sword and braved the lightning to run through the portal.
 

“No!” Tara-Khan cried in surprise and anguish, but he was helpless to stop her.

As was Sar-Ula’an. He managed to land a painful blow on one of his two opponents that dropped him to the floor, howling in pain, but the other took the opportunity to charge forward, ramming his huge shoulder into Sar-Ula’an’s breast plate, sending him flying. Sar-Ula’an slammed into the wall, then slid to the floor, stunned, as the Ka’i-Nur warrior loomed over him. Roaring with bloodlust, the giant raised his battle axe high over his head, ready to strike a killing blow.

The blow never came. Sar-Ula’an blinked with relieved surprise as the warrior froze for a moment, just before his head toppled from his shoulders. The decapitated body collapsed in a twitching heap to reveal Keel-Tath, her blade red with blood.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

“We must teleport,” Sian-Ala’i insisted, “or we may not catch them!”

“No.” Keel-Tath shook her head as she moved as quickly as she dared down the stairway. She could sense the builders below trying to keep it from collapsing, could feel their power at work in the stone. She could feel
everything
, sense
everything
, and it was near to overwhelming her. Her senses were amplified to a painful degree that became worse the closer she came to the crystal. Her second sight was deluging her with a torrent of images, as if she could see the entire universe at once, and she was having difficulty telling apart what her spirit and eyes were telling her. It was all she could do to keep her mind focused on the steps, to keep moving ever downward. More than once, she thought to stop in hopes that doing so might ease the flood of sensations, but she was terrified that she would never move again. “I dare not,” she said in a shaking voice. “I cannot control it. I could find myself on the far side of the galaxy.”
And might take half the planet with me
, she thought but did not say.
 

“Then let me lead us, mistress!”

Sparing a moment to turn and look Sian-Ala’i in the eye, Keel-Tath said, “That would be even worse, my priestess.” She was afraid that Sian-Al’ai’s power would magnify Keel-Tath’s own. Her expression hardening, she added, “No. We cannot teleport. Even you alone may not. Not here. Hear my words and obey.”

Bowing her head, Sian-Ala’i replied, “As you command, mistress.”

They continued down, slipping, sliding, and jumping over the transformed and damaged sections of the stairway, often at great peril.
 

“There!” One of the warriors, having leaned out over a section where the railing had fallen away, pointed down. Taking a shrekka from his shoulder, he flung it downward.

Keel-Tath and the others on the outside of the stairs looked down to find Syr-Nagath’s warriors gaping up at them. As if on an unspoken command, her own warriors began to barrage them with shrekkas and spears.
 

“They are building a platform,” Sian-Al’ai whispered.
 

Below them, a tracery of fine filaments that was only visible from the reflection of the torch light illuminating the chamber rapidly grew in the gap between the level where the enemy waited and the surrounding wall. Shrekkas that missed their intended targets hit the filaments and sliced through, but the webbing repaired itself almost instantly.

“We will not be able to cut it down,” Ka’i-Lohr observed.

Keel-Tath barely heard him. Her attention was drawn to the warrior, small among her companions, who stared up at her. Syr-Nagath. But from her Keel-Tath could feel nothing, her voice silent in the Bloodsong that pounded through Keel-Tath’s veins. It was like looking at the image of a ghost.

Syr-Nagath ducked under cover as Keel-Tath’s warriors rained down more shrekkas, but to no avail.
 

The platform quickly gained in substance, until it was an arc of shimmering material that filled the space between the stairway and the wall.

En masse, Syr-Nagath’s warriors moved onto it.
 

“No,” Ka’i-Lohr breathed with a worried look at Keel-Tath.

She stood there, staring down as Syr-Nagath joined her warriors, who shielded her from the remaining shrekkas and spears Keel-Tath’s warriors threw.

The Dark Queen stared into Keel-Tath’s eyes and laughed as the platform plunged downward.

“Come,” Keel-Tath finally breathed. “Quickly.”

Moving with reckless speed, she again led them downward. The steps before them that had broken had now been mended, if only to a thickness that would support their weight. Keel-Tath absently realized that she was channeling the power of the builders, along with her own power, of course, to help repair the structure.

Down they went until they reached the level where Syr-Nagath and her host had been. The builders that must have been here were gone, and Keel-Tath had a momentary image of them fleeing down a long corridor on this level.

They heard the bellows of the Ka’i-Nur below as they attacked the honorless ones, then a horrendous crash of stone that silenced many of those very voices.
 

“Here,” she said, reaching down to take a handful of the fine threads in her hand. The strands had lost much of their tension now that the platform was no longer occupied. The entire structure the Ka’i-Nur builders had created was feather light. “Follow me.”

“Mistress,” Ka’i-Lohr said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Let me go first.”

Shaking her head, she said, “Most of us can go at one time. There are plenty of strands. Take them in your hand like this,” she nodded her head toward the bunch she held, “and then do…this.”

In a smooth motion, she launched herself from the stairs. Holding the bunch of filaments in her hand, she wrapped her feet around them and shot downward as if she were sliding down a rope.

The others instantly followed.
 

Slithering down at a breakneck speed, Keel-Tath gritted her teeth, struggling to keep her mind focused. Her head pounded harder as she came closer to the Ka’i-Nur Crystal of Souls, and she could not fathom who could have opened the vessel, or had even known where or how to find it.
 

None of that mattered now, for the vessel stood open. Her goal now was to prevent Syr-Nagath from reaching it. She did not know if the crystal would bestow its powers upon one who stood in its light without a priest or priestess to act as a conduit, or if touching the crystal — or even standing in its presence — would kill Syr-Nagath. All Keel-Tath knew was that she could not take the chance of Syr-Nagath gaining whatever powers it might possess.
 

She could see the warriors battling below, the Ka’i-Nur hammering at a semicircle of honorless ones who were defending a solitary warrior. He was on his knees, lightning flying from his hands into a circular opening in the wall whose edges were white hot. With her heightened senses, she could feel the heat even from here, and cringed with pain as she drew closer.
 

The Ka’i-Nur pressed against the defenders, swords and battle axes rising and falling. Suddenly, like a dam giving way, the semicircle broke. The Ka’i-Nur roared as one with bloodlust as they poured through the gap and began to slaughter the honorless ones.

Her sword was already clear of its scabbard, and two Ka’i-Nur fell dead before she even touched the floor. She killed without a thought, the blade of her sword slicing through the enemy as if with a will of its own. Unerring, merciless. Surrounded by enemy warriors, she found plenty to kill as her companions joined the fray, adding their swords to the fight.