season avatars 01 - seasons beginnings (34 page)

do anything against them?

Is there a way I can turn their mastery of time against them?
Kron

pulled out the two artifacts he’d planned to use, the shell to enhance

Bella’s voice and the gold wire. The shell seemed like it would be better

suited to trapping magic. For an instant, Kron regretted that Bella

wouldn’t have a chance to sing, but with the house grown so much, he

doubted she could have shattered it even with the shell’s help. He

poured his magic into the shell, strengthening and enlarging it. When it

was the size of his head, he pitched it at Salth and Sal-thaath. A gust of

wind positioned it perfectly between them. As he’d expected, both of

them turned their attention to it. Sal-thaath shot corruptive magic at it,

but Salth said, “Wait, son! He might have set a trap in there.”

Kron took advantage of the distraction to sprint past both of them

toward the house. He braced himself, expecting either an attack from

one of them or else a ward or trap. But Salth must have assumed the

time-absorbing nature of the house would be enough of a defense.

Magic reached out, trying to penetrate his clothing and leach his re-

maining years from him. When that failed, the house tried to repel him.

Each step became a struggle, as if it took a year to raise and lower each

foot. Kron pulled the coil of gold wire from his pouch and held it in

front of him. That seemed to help. As he drew closer, he wondered if

he would be able to make the gold wire stick to the crystal. Normally

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fusing two dissimilar materials together was tricky but not impossible,

but with this house Kron didn’t know what to expect.

A moat of bones, both animal and human, surrounded the house.

Kron tried to kick them aside, wincing at the sacrilege, but they stuck

in the frozen mud as if planted there. The one that he’d tried to dislodge

stirred, and meat and fur grew back over it layer by layer. Other bones

started returning to life. Salth hadn’t left her house defenseless after all.

Looks like I’m going to have to come up with some way to destroy or

neutralize these poor creatures. Actually, maybe I don’t.

He stepped back, turned sideways—it would be foolish to leave him-

self exposed to the reviving creatures and people—and called, “Bella!

Galia! I need you here!”

Salth had drawn closer to the shell and was peering at it, probably

trying to figure out how to destroy it when it kept trapping her magic.

Sal-thaath pranced around, shooting magic at an ice wall the three Win-

ter Avatars were building around him. Neither side seemed to be able

to gain the upper hand. Pulling two Avatars away would upset the bal-

ance in favor of Sal-thaath, leaving him free for more mischief, but if

Kron could sever his tie to the crystal house, then the boy would cease

to be a problem. And if he ceased to be, then Kron had to accept that.

No matter how much he’d once cared for this child, Sal-thaath couldn’t

be allowed to steal other lives to sustain his own.

Kron had to call for Galia and Bella a couple more times before they

finally dissolved the link. By then, the living bones had started to group

together in combinations that would never work without magic. Skulls

hopped on top of ribs, and limbs joined with other limbs at odd angles,

as if Salth was creating living artifacts. Kron spat with disgust at the

thought.

Bella grimaced as she approached Kron, and Galia’s face bore a

tinge of green. “By All Four, what’s she doing?”

“I think these are her house guardians. Can you get me past them?”

Galia turned her head from side to side, surveying the sentinels. “I

don’t think we can handle all of them by ourselves.”

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“Then just clear a path through them.”

Bella furrowed her brow, but she and Galia joined hands and pointed

at the spot right in front of Kron. The half-creatures shuddered and

scrambled over other ones to get away. Kron drew his clothing around

him. As soon as a path was clear, he sprinted down it. Skulls snapped

their jaws and legs kicked at him, but they couldn’t reach into the pro-

tected path. He reached the crystal and uncoiled the end of the gold

wire, then pressed it against the cold wall. It sank in, and Kron had to

snatch his fingers away before they followed. How could he get the gold

to stick to the crystal before the house swallowed it all?

This house isn’t alive; it was made. It’s an artifact. By All Four, it’s

an artifact. Why did it take me so long to realize that? Salth may have

made this, but my magic should be stronger than hers for this.

Kron left the gold wire in place, flexed his hands, and deliberately

pushed on the crystal. The artifact sucked at his magic like a babe at his

mother’s breast. Kron tried to follow his magic inside the house, hoping

he could damage the artifact from within, but once his magic passed

through the crystal, it changed, no longer feeling like him. It felt more

primal, like the energy within the Avatars.

Of course. How stupid of me. I need their magic to destroy this

house.
Then he remembered he couldn’t link with them or access their

magic. Wasn’t destroying this house supposed to be their task? How

could they channel their magic into it when they could barely hold off

Salth?

I should be the one facing Salth, not them. We need to switch places.

Or at the least, he needed to guide them so they knew what to do.

Abandoning the gold wire for now—though he made sure the crystal

house wouldn’t swallow the rest of it while he was occupied—Kron

checked on the Avatars. Incredibly, they’d linked through the three

Springs, feeding the Winters with power from the Summers and Falls.

But no matter how much lightning, hailstones, or even whirlwinds they

sent at Salth and Sal-thaath, every weather pattern broke down before

it reached the mother-son pair.

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This is hopeless. I can’t shatter the crystal house, they can’t defeat

Salth and Sal-thaath, and I have no other artifacts that I can use against

time. Unless…
he reached backward for the gold wire. If the gold was

the only thing he had that resisted being corrupted by time, then he had

to use it to break the stalemate.

Kron snapped the wire flush against the crystal, so smooth he

couldn’t even feel the broken end of the wire. He wound it into a coil

about as wide as he was tall. Now came the tricky part: getting close

enough to Sal-thaath to toss it over him. Without Galia and Bella to

keep it open, the living moat had closed up again, trapping Kron next

to the crystal house. If only he could jump across it, or fly…well, he

had his boots. Why not turn them into artifacts too?

Kron directed the star magic into his boots. They bounded into the

air, dragging him along for the flight. Kron struggled to keep his head

above his heels. He aimed the boots towards Sal-thaath. Wind from the

Winters’ latest weather attack knocked him off course for a heartbeat.

As if he’d gained telepathy, Sal-thaath turned and gestured at Kron’s

boots. The stitches holding them together snapped, his boots fell off of

his feet, and he dropped into a snowbank, an armslength from the moat.

He jerked away from a skeletal hand and stood up. His feet burned from

the cold snow, but Kron didn’t have time to reassemble his boots. In-

stead, he flung his gold coil toward Sal-thaath. The child dodged with

depressing ease. Then, with a pointed smile, he advanced on Kron.

Kron, however, didn’t focus on Sal-thaath. Instead, he beckoned the

gold coil to fly forward, intending to wrap it around Sal-thaath. At the

last heartbeat, Sal-thaath retreated, drawing closer to the Avatars.

“Watch out!” Kron called.

They didn’t respond. By the way they had their eyes closed and their

limbs wrapped around each other, they seemed to be completely igno-

rant of was what going on around them. But despite the cold, sweat

dripped from their faces, and their bodies trembled.

“You know this is a hopeless battle for them, Kron,” Salth said. She

waved at the shell, and it cracked. Kron’s heart sank. “Perhaps I cannot

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take their time—yet—but I can do other things with time, stretch out a

many-hurtful moment of pain, or hurt them and not let them heal. If you

care for them, Kron Evenhanded, you should bargain with me for their

lives.”

He suspected he already knew what she wanted, but he asked any-

way, “And what would you have me give up for their safety, Salth?”

“Your life and your magic, Kron.”

Unspoken were the words “to feed Sal-thaath.”

None of the Avatars, not even his wife, reacted. Either they were so

deeply engrossed in their magic that they’d lost all contact with the out-

side world, or they didn’t care what happened to him. He knew that

couldn’t be true, but it was hard to believe that when no one spoke out

against Salth.

“And if I were to portal away from here and leave them, what would

you do?” he asked, more to provoke a response from the Avatars than

to consider it.

Salth cackled. “You’d never do that, double-foolish Kron.”

Domina shot a bolt of lightning at Salth, but she deflected it with no

more than a gesture.

“Bella? Galia? Can you hear me?” Kron called. “Say something!”

“This shouldn’t be a hard choice for you, Kron.” Salth gestured

again, and the water clock, now whole and grown big enough to hold a

man, rolled toward her. Water streamed out of the middle row of holes.

“Choose quickly, or your friends perish when the clock runs dry.”

The water level dropped to the next row, as if Salth had sped up how

fast the water would drain out.

Kron scoffed. “I’ll believe that after you break through the protec-

tions I’ve given then.”

Salth smiled and looked over the crowd. “It’s not that hard to pick

out the oldest Avatar, is it? And the oldest Avatar has the least time left

to her….”

She closed her eyes. The tight knot of Avatars broke up, but Galia

wasn’t visible. The Avatars circled around her with concern evident on

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their faces. She staggered, one hand over her heart. The wrinkles on her

face deepened, and clumps of her hair fell out, invisible against the

snow.

Janno and Caye clutched each of her arms. With horror, Kron

watched them age too. Bella stepped forward, but before she touched

Galia, she turned to face Kron with a look of love and desperation. One

by one, the other Avatars copied her, imploring him for help.

Any lingering doubts Kron had about the Avatars melted as Ocul

and Magstrom took Galia’s hands. The other Avatars formed into their

groups again, all channeling their magic into her. But Kron knew that

wouldn’t be enough. Salth would first drain Galia of all her remaining

years, then the rest of them.

“I love you,” Bella mouthed before reaching for Galia.

Before she made contact, Kron said, “Enough, Salth!” He stepped

toward the water clock. “I yield! Release them.”

Salth’s smile deepened.

“Kron, no!” Bella yelled.

As much as it pained Kron to ignore her, he had to if he was going

to save them. Once he was gone, the Avatars would be helpless against

Salth. Only if they returned to Vistichia, behind the Four’s protective

barriers, would they be safe. Before he could face Salth and Sal-thaath,

he had to send them back, even if they hadn’t finished their mission yet.

Kron put his hands behind his back. As he approached the water

clock, he made circling motions with his fingers. He fed his power into

the gold loop, enlarging it until the gold was thinner than a human hair.

Even if someone stared directly at the circle, it would be difficult to

detect.

“Sal-thaath, come here,” Kron said. “I’ll give you my power inside

the water clock.”

The boy looked at him warily, as if expecting a trick. Kron kept all

expression off of his face.

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“It’s all right, Sal-thaath,” Salth said. “The water clock is My sym-

bol, My element. He cannot overcome it.” She stared at Kron. “Leave

your pouch and your outer clothes here.”

He took them off slowly. As he released the pouch, something

spilled out of it: the fire starter made out of the strange material. He

covered it with his foot so Salth wouldn’t see it. Although his toes were

numb, he managed to coax them around the fire starter. Everything de-

pended on this unknown artifact.

Pretending to limp, Kron stepped up to the water clock. The lip came

up to his shoulder. He flexed his fingers, maneuvering the hoop into

position and connecting it to the Avatars’ courtyard. Then he pulled