Mythborn (53 page)

“You will follow this man,” Lilyth said, pointing to Mithras.

“I am the Kinslayer, reviled by all Aeris,” the blade replied. “Why would you do this?”

“We are, after all, family. And I have my reasons.” She walked closer to Mithras and said, “Look upon the man I would have you serve.” She turned and raised the blade before the Aeris Lord.

Heartbeats passed as the blade seemed to consider him, though no outward sign that she did so was visible. Finally, the blade meekly asked, “Is he worthy of my love?”

Lilyth nodded slowly. “Yes. More than you know. But you will take the Binding Oath and pledge yourself to him. In service you will find peace.”

Mithras raised his head, his face looking up in rapture as Tempest flooded his mind. He turned to his queen, who inclined her head so he could speak.

The Aeris Lord said to Tempest, “We will bring ruin upon those who betrayed you.”

Moments passed, then the blade finally said, “By the forge of my maker, I bind myself to his man as ally. My Oath as an Aeris Lord, I will cause no harm to befall Mithras the Morningstar, either through my action or inaction.”

Mithras repeated, “By the life given to me by the Lady, I bind myself to Tempest as ally. My Oath as an Aeris Lord, I will cause no harm to befall Tempest, either through my action or inaction.” He reached up and grasped the blade Lilyth had unsheathed, letting his blood run across the metal.

Tempest absorbed the blood, turning golden in color, her form changing slightly in shape to a gleaming blade with a sun emblazoned upon the hilt forming the cross guard. Mithras rose and grasped her, his eyes bright.

“She is worthy,” he breathed, his eyes wide with wonder.

Lilyth looked at them both, then said, “I have a special mission for you, Morningstar.”

Then she sent out a message to Alion Deft. It was silent, meant only for her. It was short, but with it rested the future of all her people. She breathed in and mentally cast her command,
Stand ready, our freedom is nearly upon us
.

Duncan’s Plight

When you can show someone else their fear

held in your hands, you have true power.

-
          
Argus Rillaran, The Power of Deceit

T
he space they appeared in was dark, but the echoes made it seem bigger. Silbane, Kisan, and the Watchers moved forward into the gloom and disappeared, no doubt their vision enhanced to see in this strange twilight. Brianna’s eyes reflecting the dim light like the silver behind a cat’s eyes. When she noticed Arek looking at her she said, “Darklight,” as if that explained it. Still, she was sure-footed and Arek surmised she could see just as well as his masters.

Ash cursed, hitting Arek from behind and then softly apologizing. He and Arek, it seemed, were stuck holding onto Brianna like blind men to find their way. It was finally Yetteje who solved the problem by drawing back on Valor slightly, causing a golden yellow arrow to appear and lighting the room with its warm glow.

They were in a chamber with a table on one end. Even as the party looked around it was clear there was a man suspended between two poles hanging near the other wall. He appeared dead, the body torn and rent from the result of what was obviously brutal lashings. Kisan changed form and went to the table, while Brianna and Arek went to look at the man. Silbane and the two Watchers stood guard.

The man hung by his wrists, secured by two thorny vines. Dried blood from lashes that crisscrossed his entire body lay in such numbers there was no skin left unmarred. He was naked, torn, and tortured to such an extent Arek didn’t think he could possibly be alive. It was only when a pale eye opened that he fell back with a gasp.

Brianna moved forward, withdrawing one of her clear patches. She carefully applied it to the man’s chest and watched as lines appeared on its surface. She then withdrew the metal tube and dialed one end, then pressed it to the patch. Arek heard a hiss, then Brianna put the tube away and said, “Now we wait.”

“From the looks of his belongings,” muttered Kisan, “I’d say this is Duncan.” She didn’t sound sorry he was in such a horrible condition, but thankfully she didn’t make any other comment.

Arek looked back at the man Lilyth said was his father. That eye still looked at him unwaveringly, the same pale blue color as his own. He leaned forward then and said softly, “We came to rescue you. I… I’m Arek.”

The only indication he’d heard was a slight widening of his one eye, though whatever Brianna had done seemed to be having some slight effect. It was probably his imagination, but it looked as though some of the swelling had reduced a bit around the other eye and the man seemed to be focusing more.

“Water…” a whisper croaked past cracked lips.

Arek undid the small canteen he’d kept and poured a bit onto the man’s lips, letting him wet his tongue. Then he poured a bit more, drops at a time, so as to avoid choking him. The man swallowed slowly, then more as his throat eased open.

“The damage is pretty extensive,” Brianna offered, “but repairable if he—”

A sudden crack sounded and Brianna’s cheek was opened by a lash of a thorn vine. She fell back with one hand over the cut as more cracks sounded. Arek rolled, feeling the bite of at least one lash across his back before coming to his feet. Facing their party were two vaguely humanoid trees, one holding Duncan’s limp body while the other attacked them with vines that snapped out with blinding speed.

The Watchers reacted immediately. Orion dropped his leading wing in front of Arek to protect him from the thorn vine’s whips while Helios dived in and covered Brianna with his own body. He looked at Silbane and said, “Wood gholems! Use your wings!”

It was clear the Watcher wanted Silbane to use his wingblades, but the master did not. It was soon apparent why, for Duncan would be skewered by the feathered death that would be unleashed. Instead, the master yelled, “Yetteje!”

The princess did not waver but began pulling and releasing arrow after arrow as if she’d been born with her bow in hand. The bolts of fire struck the closest gholem in quick succession, driving it back toward the other. Every arrow burrowed in as if it sought the creature’s own heart. At the same time, the gholem let out a keening screech and fell back as the fire immolated it from within. Arek wondered if Yetteje’s bow liked to kill, an odd thought that yet felt strangely appropriate.

Into this melee flew a black streak that was Kisan, her razor wing cutting into the gholem even as she spun and sliced through the vines holding Duncan aloft. Her large size in this smaller space hampered her normally fluid movement and instead of slicing completely through the gholem, the master merely managed to cut the vines holding onto Duncan before falling to her knees. It was enough. The red mage crumpled into a heap and Yetteje let her arrows fly in earnest, her target suddenly clear.

The wood gholem did not retreat, instead it sent out another keening screech, then lashed at Kisan, who was just rising. The vine thorns grabbed her by the wrists and pulled her in, her armored form becoming a shield for the creature as it continued its attacks.

Arek saw green tendrils race across the floor. They enveloped Duncan, then continued, entwining around Brianna’s legs. The dwarven woman pulled, but to no avail, her legs stuck fast as if in irons. They came closer, and Arek became angry. These creatures had tortured his father, leaving him at the edge of death’s door. They continued to attack without mercy, and he had had enough. Blackfire blazed from his skin, forcing everyone back. He reached out and grabbed a vine and his blackness spread, racing back along the green tendril and consuming the creature. In the beat of a heart it dissolved into black dust, one final shriek marking its obliteration. Beneficent and healing energy surged through him, making him feel stronger.

“By the gods!” remarked Kisan. She’d been entangled along with Brianna, and though Arek’s black flame had not hurt her, it was clear she’d underestimated him. Part of him cursed himself for losing control and revealing any of his power. Another part liked the fear he saw in her eyes.

Finally, it was Brianna who said, “That’s going to wake up the neighborhood. We need to move.”

Arek nodded, ignoring the wide-eyed stares he was getting from everyone but Brianna and grabbed his father’s robe from the table. The man had levered himself up on an elbow, and Brianna had moved over to help him. She was able to pick him up easily given her size, at least enough for Arek to hastily drape the robe over his father’s body. He looked at the man, still blood soaked and gruesome, but now looking more like a man than a flayed piece of meat.

Then, surprisingly, a smile appeared and Duncan reached out with a trembling hand to gently squeeze Arek’s shoulder, “My son…”

Arek locked eyes with his father as tears blurred his vision. He nodded, then looked away, the sight of what had been done now hitting him in a way he could not express. They had both been victims of Galadine torture, and Arek could understand the rage and helplessness his father must have felt under their control, with no hope in sight. A sudden hate for the king and his family threatened to overwhelm him. It seemed they reveled in torture, using it to inflict pain and suffering on anyone they chose. Lilyth was right. Under Valarius’s rule, what mercy could Edyn expect if this is how his father had been treated? He held himself in check. The darkness was only the merest thought away, but he’d already lost control once and did not intend to do so again. Not yet.

“Come on!” shouted Kisan. “We can’t stay here.”

Silbane moved up quickly, changing his form and meeting Duncan eye to eye. “Where is Niall? Have you seen him?”

Duncan nodded in recognition, but was unable to say anything intelligible.

“He’s going in and out of shock,” Brianna said. “He needs time to stabilize.”

“We don’t have it,” Silbane said. “We’re going to have a lot of company.”

“Up,” croaked Duncan, looking up.

Silbane asked, “Niall is up?”

Duncan’s head lolled back as he slipped into unconsciousness.

Silbane cursed and changed form, taking stock of their situation. He asked Brianna, “You have him?” Duncan couldn’t help, at least not until Brianna’s magic had healed him more than his current condition, and who knew how long that would take?

“Yes, but we really need to keep him still,” Brianna replied. At Silbane’s look she sighed and added, “Just keep us in the center.”

Silbane nodded. “Ash, you and Arek flank Brianna. You’re the last line if we fall, so keep your heads in the fight. Orion, up front with Kisan. Helios and I will take the rear.”

He turned to Kisan and said, “Head upward, hopefully Duncan will recover enough to guide us.” He then grabbed Kisan’s shoulder and met her eyes. “There’s no one else I trust more. Do what you do best.”

Kisan gave a short nod and the group fell into formation. Arek felt a little useless, but the arrangement kept him close to his father, something he was grateful for. As they moved to the door Arek saw Orion touch Kisan on the shoulder. He shrank enough so that he didn’t have to stoop and could better maneuver in smaller spaces. He was telling Kisan to do the same. A moment later she, too, had managed to reduce her size and the look she gave Silbane spoke volumes. Clearly she had not known she could do this, and when Arek looked back his master confirmed it by saying, “Nice to learn something new,” before he too shrunk himself to a large but more manageable size given their surroundings.

The group made their way out of the room, only to enter a latticed hall made entirely of wood. Armored forms in blue streamed toward their position, light glinting dangerously off of sharp spears and blades. Kisan and Orion lowered their shoulders and put an armored wing in front, then began flicking their rear wings forward, creating a storm of blades that sliced through the main body of elves. The result was carnage.

Blood flew as wingblades found soft, vulnerable spots. Elves in the first rank fell screaming, clutching their throats, only to be bowled over by those charging from behind. The hall, with its tight width, became a killing ground. No elf that came within five body lengths of the two war angels in the front survived. Kisan and Orion were just too lethal, their synchronization a ballet of death. The rear ranks started throwing spears in desperation but the two had lowered their forward wings, deflecting these off their armored surface. For a moment, it looked as if everyone in front of them would be killed. Then reinforcements poured out of an adjoining tunnel and the elves regrouped and charged.

Kisan looked at Orion and smiled from behind her forward shield wing saying, “Ready?” A black blade appeared in her hands, keen and double-edged.

Orion laughed. “Always, Artymis. Let us show them our true hearts!” That was followed by a short silver spear in Orion’s hand and the Watcher’s eyes crinkled with pleasure.

At his nod, they leaned and braced as the surviving elves hit their wings in a shock wave designed to overwhelm and overrun. For a moment, Arek thought they might succeed. Their wings bent inward and blade points showed through. Their feet were pushed back, sliding on the wooden floor slick with elven blood. He leaned forward and tried to brace Kisan while Ash did the same with Orion. Brianna ducked, covering her charge with her own body and positioning herself to keep from impeding anyone as their tiny formation was pushed back.

Their backward slide continued as each sought purchase on the slick wood. More blades and spears stabbed through. Thankfully, they did no damage. Then, Kisan’s foot stopped, as if the master had had enough. Arek heard her grunt, her head bent down and her leg flexed. At some unknown signal both Kisan and Orion grew.

It was only then that Arek realized both of them had been subtly shrinking as the elves pushed, drawing them deeper in and into a tighter mass. Now they exploded in size, throwing back the lines as their tight formation returned the force of their transformation through the entire group of elves. Though they did not exceed the tunnel’s dimensions, their sudden change gave them the advantage they’d needed, and the tide had been turned.

Kisan and Orion went to their grisly work and elves fell, bloody and ruined. They stabbed and slashed, throwing their opponents back with their greater bulk and mauling those that did not fall.

Kisan yelled to the back line, “Kill what we miss!”

Her meaning was clear and Ash started stabbing every elven body they trampled. It was a massacre as their blades, wings, and spears sliced and stabbed through the elves with bloody efficiency. No words were exchanged, just grunts of effort. Screams of those falling were first cut short by being trampled, then cut off by Ash, who did his work with silent pragmatism. Arek watched him, committing to memory the firstmark’s willingness to show no mercy when it meant their lives.

Then they surged forward as if a sudden weight had been released and Arek got his first glimpse of what lay ahead. They had exited onto a landing, a circular wooden platform with another set of stairs spiraling up from there. Craning his head back Arek could see dozens of platforms like this one climbing up the inside of what looked like a lattice made of trees. What grabbed his attention most, however, was the immensity of Avalyon as he surveyed the elven city spread out before him.

The interior was immense and giddying in its openness, and it was coming alive like a nest of hornets as more elves became aware of intruders in their midst. The interior was a maze of tree limbs and open air, more suitable for flying than walking, in Arek’s opinion.