Mistress Of The Ages (In Her Name, Book 9) (43 page)

More to kill
, she thought with a snarl as she whirled out of the way of a Ka’i-Nur sword nearly as long as she was tall that parted the air where she had just been. The weapon was wielded by a warrior who was huge even among the Ka’i-Nur, and wore armor as thick as her fingers. Gathering her waning energy, she sent a crimson fire bolt into the warrior’s chest. The center of his breastplate was vaporized and his rib cage blew outward as flesh and bone flashed into steam. With a gurgling cry the giant collapsed, adding his body to the waist high pile that surrounded the defenders, many of whom were now standing atop the dead, using the height advantage to good effect while preventing the Ka’i-Nur from doing the same.

A pair of Ka’i-Nur warriors launched one of their comrades at the defensive line like a sword-wielding projectile. The attacking warrior was killed, but not before she killed two honorless ones. Dara-Kol, a sword in each hand, fearlessly moved forward to plug the gap, but was driven back by the attackers, who were quickly joined by more. The tiny gap acted as a magnet as nearby enemy warriors surged forward, trying to force their way over the barrier of the dead.

Sian-Al’ai turned to a small group of haggard warriors behind her whom she had pulled out to rest and to act as a small reserve. Pointing with her sword, she bellowed, “
Hold the line!
”
 

As they rushed forward, Sian-Al’ai darted to the left, directly behind the Ka’i-Nur warriors who were intent on killing Dara-Kol. They died in a flurry of savage blows from her sword, and the defending warriors managed to close the gap.
 

“We cannot long continue this,” Dara-Kol managed as she sucked air into her lungs. Like Sian-Al’ai, she was covered in blood, but not all of it was the enemy’s. She was suffering from half a dozen minor wounds that were quickly taking their toll. Even Sian-Al’ai had not remained unscathed, and her energy reserves had fallen to the point where she dared not use any of her powers except in the most dire circumstances.

As one, they looked to the portal, which Tara-Khan was somehow still holding open. Keel-Tath had followed Syr-Nagath into whatever lay beyond, but it was impossible to see much beyond the crackling lightning from Tara-Khan’s hands.
 

“I cannot feel her,” Dara-Kol said as she wiped some of the blood from her eyes. “It is as if the portal is a barrier to the Bloodsong.”

“Knowing what she must endure, that is likely for the best.” Sian-Al’ai ducked as a shrekka whistled past her head. “Her song is so powerful, were we to sense her pain, our defense would collapse.”

“As it soon must, no matter what we do,” Dara-Kol replied, now looking upward.

Following her gaze, Sian-Al’ai felt a cold spear of dread in her gut. Ka’i-Nur warriors on parawings were floating down around the outer edge of the stairway. But these were not like those they had been fighting up to now. These were clad in silver armor. “We will not be escaping back the way we came, it seems.” Looking over her shoulder at Tara-Khan, she added, “We must get everyone through the portal. Now.”

“But how? We’ll be burned alive by the lightning!”

“No,” Sian-Al’ai told her. “Injured, perhaps, but not killed. Besides, we have no choice.” Raising her voice to be heard above the cries and screams that reverberated through the chamber, she shouted, “Fall back to the portal!
Fall back!
” To Dara-Kol, she added, “Take them through. I will hold off the enemy.”

Dara-Kol stared at her, an expression of grim resolution on her face. “I will not abandon you! We…”

The rest of her words were lost as an energy beam lanced down from one of the warriors in silver armor, vaporizing a pair of honorless ones and the Ka’i-Nur warrior they had been grappling with.
 

Sian-Al’ai took Dara-Kol’s arm and shoved her toward the portal. “
Go!
”

As Dara-Kol took charge of the others who fell back, fighting every bit of the way, toward the portal, Sian-Al’ai gathered her remaining inner strength and raised her arms. The last thing any of the Ka’i-Nur warriors here would see was her fiery wrath.

***

Dara-Kol cringed as a writhing wall of fire erupted from Sian-Al’ai. The licking flames wrapped around the retreating warriors, leaving them untouched but for the heat while incinerating the Ka’i-Nur. The chamber around her grew as hot as an oven, making it difficult to draw a breath. “Drakh-Nur! Ka’i-Lohr!" she called. “Get everyone though the portal!”

The two battered warriors nodded, and with the help of Sar-Ula’an began to guide, push, and in some cases carry the survivors toward the portal.
 

“Tara-Khan,” she said after she had dashed over to kneel beside him. “We are trapped. The only way out is through the portal.”

He looked at her in horror, the lightning reflected in his eyes. “But there is no way out of the chamber! There are no doors to the other vessels!”

She put a hand on his shoulder, and felt an electric shock that nearly knocked her backward. Pulling her hand away, she said, “It is that, or we all die here and now. You must decide in the name of Keel-Tath.”

“Do it,” he rasped.
 

Glancing through the portal, where before she could peer into the great chamber, Dara-Kol now saw only darkness, a black pit beyond the swirling golden ring and crackling lightning.
 

The silver clad Ka’i-Nur began falling among the survivors, eliciting cries of fear and rage from the warriors, but they had nothing to fear: the enemy were dead, cooked inside their metal cocoons.
 

Getting to her feet, Dara-Kol gestured to Drakh-Nur. “Send them through!”

None of the survivors, however, was keen to brave the crackling lightning from Tara-Khan. And so it was that Drakh-Nur snatched up the nearest warrior and bodily tossed her across the threshold. She yelped as she passed through the web of cyan, but emerged unscathed on the far side, visible against the darkness. She stood there, shaken but alive, holding out her hand for the others.

The taboo broken, the warriors sent through the robed ones, pairing them up with those who were injured to help them through quickly.

Behind them, Sian-Al’ai had fallen to her knees, and the wall of fire was beginning to die out.

“Hurry!” Dara-Kol shouted as yet more burned Ka’i-Nur slammed into the floor around her. Grabbing Ka’i-Lohr by the arm, she told him, “You are to take charge of the others on the far side.”

“What about you?" he asked as he shoved another pair of warriors into the web of lightning. “We won’t leave you!”

“I have no intention of sacrificing myself here. Just do as I command.”

“Yes, mistress.” He saluted her before picking up a badly wounded armorer and dashing through the portal.

Dara-Kol came to stand as close as she dared behind Sian-Al’ai. The heat was frightful, like holding one’s entire body over a bonfire, just above the flames. She knew that Sian-Al’ai would not approve of what she planned, which was why she had no intention of telling her. Nor did she wish to break her concentration.

“Dara-Kol!”
 

She turned to see Drakh-Nur, gesturing frantically for her to come. Everyone else but he and Tara-Khan were through the portal. “Go!" she shouted.

Pausing, his blood smeared face contorted in indecision, Drakh-Nur at last saluted her before leaping into the darkness.

It was at that moment that the fire from Sian-Al’ai finally failed. Dara-Kol caught her as she collapsed, unconscious. The priestess’s armor was smoldering, and Dara-Kol hissed from the pain as she slung Sian-Al’ai over her shoulder and ran to Tara-Khan as fast as she could. Behind her she heard the enraged bellows of more enemy warriors. She stumbled, and the energy bolt that would have killed her instead only singed one of her legs.
 

As she reached Tara-Khan, she grabbed his shoulder armor and hauled him the short distance to the portal as enemy warriors clambered over the dead and the first of the silver clad warriors landed, alive.

“It will close before we can pass through!” Tara-Khan cried.

Ignoring him, she bellowed a war cry as she leaped through the dancing lightning that was still bursting from Tara-Khan’s hands, taking all three of them through to the other side where they were caught by their anxious companions.

With a gasp of relief, Tara-Khan gave up holding open the portal, and the golden ring instantly collapsed into a swirling cyclone.

Just as the swirling gold slowed to a stop, a silver clad Ka’i-Nur warrior tried to leap through. Caught as the portal completely closed, his body was sheared clean in half. Even then, he sought to raise his energy weapon, aiming it at those gathered around him.

With a grunt of disgust, Drakh-Nur brought down his war hammer on the enemy’s head with a sickening crunch. The weapon fell from the Ka’i-Nur’s hand and his mangled body spasmed once before going still.

“You made it,” Drakh-Nur said, his voice thick with wonder.

“Yes,” Dara-Kol told him with an exhausted smile as the giant warrior gently lifted her up and set her on her feet. She was astonished that on this side of the portal, the chamber was well lit. Beside her, a pair of healers rushed to Sian-Al’ai who lay still, smoke curling from her skin.
 

“Tara-Khan!” Ka’i-Lohr pulled him to his feet and embraced him. “I never thought to see your face again, my tresh.”

“Nor I yours.” Tara-Khan returned the embrace with equal fervor, but while he was overjoyed to see Ka’i-Lohr, his heart yearned for another. Releasing his brother in spirit, he turned toward the center of the chamber, but his view was blocked by the others who had come through before him. “What has become of Keel-Tath?”

Those nearest the dais began to fall to their knees as a wave of anguish poured through the Bloodsong.
 

As those in front of him knelt in heartbroken silence, Tara-Khan saw why.

“Oh, no,” he whispered as he pushed his way through the survivors and began to run toward the dais where the crystal stood like an enormous black diamond, Keel-Tath’s body lying still upon the floor. Syr-Nagath was curled up just behind her, her dead hand still clutching the sword with which she had killed his love.

***

Keel-Tath opened her mouth to scream as she felt herself being torn apart, but the sensation of pain vanished as quickly as it had come. Opening her eyes, she found that she was no longer where she had been. Or, perhaps she still was there in a sense, for she still stood in the great chamber of the Ka’i-Nur Crystal of Souls, but it was not now as it was. The chamber she had been in when she touched the darkness had been empty, save for Syr-Nagath.

This chamber now was filled with warriors and robed ones, all standing in concentric circles around the dais. Around her.

And in front of her stood Anuir-Ruhal’te.
 

“I bid thee welcome, my daughter.” The ancient oracle stepped forward and reached out her hands to Keel-Tath. When Keel-Tath took them in her own, she could feel their warmth, the softness of her ancient mother’s skin.
 

“You…you are real?” Keel-Tath whispered. “This is not another illusion?”

“Yes, my child. Can you not hear the song of my spirit in your blood?”

Keel-Tath’s eyes widened. It was true. She could hear Anuir-Ruhal’te’s voice in the Bloodsong, which stood out among so many countless others. Keel-Tath thought for a moment that she might be crushed by the power of the song, but found that her heart, her spirit, was not overwhelmed by anything but joy. For among the songs she heard were those of Ayan-Dar and the others she had known, those who had fallen. They were here, and saluted her, bowing their heads.
 

But two among the many here stood out all the more.

“Mother,” she breathed. “Father.”

“Yes, beloved.” Her father, Kunan-Lohr, stepped forward, Ulana-Tath, Keel-Tath’s mother, at his side. They embraced her in the way of warriors, but their hearts and faces echoed the joy she felt in the Bloodsong. They had both been killed when she was but an infant. Now, standing before them, hearing the song of their spirits, sensing their love and pride in her, she felt as if she had known them her entire life.
 

Then her spirits faltered, fell, as realization dawned. Turning back to Anuir-Ruhal’te, she whispered, “I am dead?”

Anuir-Ruhal’te shook her head slowly. “No, my child. Nor shall you ever die, not in the way you understand. This,” she gestured around them, “is the place of the Ancient Ones, yes. The crystal of the Ka’i-Nur is the gateway through the veil that separates the living from the dead. This,” she reached forward to touch Keel-Tath’s face, “is not the stuff of which we are made. The body is merely a vessel, just as this chamber is the vessel for the crystal. The spirit lives on long after the body has returned to the stardust from which it was made.” She again took Keel-Tath’s hands in hers. “You have within you the powers of all the crystals now. They were the greatest and most wondrous creations of our race, and now they are all bound to you, to your will. The same is true for your people: when you return through the veil, when you awaken and rise this day, you will be mistress of all your people. They, both the living and the dead, shall forever be bound to your spirit, for all the ages to come.”

“I…I am not sure what to say,” Keel-Tath managed, for now she was overwhelmed. A tremor ran through her body, and her heart began to hammer in her chest. “I do not know what to do…”

“Be still, child.”
 

She looked up to find Ayan-Dar beside her, his one eye gazing into hers, seeing through to her soul in the way that only he seemed able to do.
 

“Wisdom will come in its own time,” he told her. “Until then, follow your heart and heed those whose counsel you have always valued.” He grinned. “And remember that we, all those who came before you, are here to do thy will. Always.” He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. “May thy Way be long and glorious, our child of prophecy.”

Looking from Ayan-Dar to Anuir-Ruhal’te, Keel-Tath asked, “How may I return to those I left behind?”