The Balance of Power (Godsland Series: Books Four, Five, and Six) (38 page)

"Now?" he asked the ugly man, who nodded.

"Sorry, kid," was all the tall man said before he punched Sinjin in the face, hard.

Sinjin fell back against the cavern wall and hadn't recovered from the first punch when the second came.

"Stop!" Kendra shouted. "What are you doing? Stop!"

Sinjin wasn't sure who was hitting him, but every new strike dazed him and kept him from properly defending himself. The shackles and chains weighed on him, and he fell to his knees, where a mighty kick drove the wind from his chest and made his ribs hurt terribly.

"You're killing him!" Kendra shrieked. Then she sobbed, "Please stop. Please don't kill him."

Sinjin heard no more as a hand closed over his mouth and nose; he felt a heavy weight, and darkness settled upon him.

* * *

When the pain stopped, Catrin's heart nearly stopped with it. Sinjin was gone. She could no longer sense his presence. Prios stiffened behind her, his grip on her shoulders too tight. Kyrien wept.

Pain no longer registered in Catrin's mind; rage and grief and anguish welled up in her like groundswell and burst forth in the form of words and power--raw, unrestrained, focused, and potent. Catrin's rage found an environment rich with targets, and she attacked with unmitigated fury, sweeping the landscape clean of demons, giants, soldiers, and their monstrous weapons. The dragons must have sensed the change as well as they retreated to the clouds.

Thorakis was not within Ohmahold. Sinjin was no longer within Ohmahold; at least his spirit was no longer there. There was nothing holding them there except anger. And one of the first lessons her father had taught her was that intellect trumped anger. If you were going to fight back, fight back smart and on your terms.

"Let them retreat," Catrin said. "Our battle is no longer here. My son is dead." She choked on the words. "Our son is dead."

Prios wrapped his arms around her, and Kyrien turned for one more pass at the battlefield, taking out his anger on anything that still moved. Catrin made certain that all of the ballistae and catapults were destroyed, and she set fire to supply wagons that had congregated not far from the entrance to Ohmahold.

Then the mighty keep was behind them. A beautiful landscape swept beneath them, seen from a vantage few others would ever experience. Sinjin would never see it. Always Catrin's thoughts returned to Sinjin. If she didn't find something else to focus on, she thought she might explode. Only when she turned to look at Prios did she realize the extent of his wounds. Livid burns covered much of his body, and his clothing was charred. One arm hung limply by his side, and the other he used to staunch the bleeding from a shoulder wound.

Catrin laid her hands on him as gently as she could, and still he flinched at the contact, at the movement of his clothes, at the breath of the wind. Channeling her emotions and needs into singular focus, Catrin fed energy to Prios's spirit. His breathing slowed and became more regular, and though he looked no better on the outside, he let out a deep sigh and slept.

When Catrin ran her eyes over Kyrien, she found him not much better. Kyrien's hide was blistered and blasted away in places, and there were deep gouges in his wing membranes.

I can still fly. I can still fight. I will do so until those responsible are dead.

Those words contained as much vitriol as Catrin had ever heard from Kyrien, and the sound of it frightened her.

We will avenge my kind, and we will avenge your son.

Catrin's loss somehow seemed smaller in the face of that statement--no less painful but smaller. She could not even imagine the extent of Kyrien's pain, though it was clear that he did not begrudge her pain. He made no comparison between the extents of their losses; he simply wanted vengeance for what was lost, for what had been forcibly and intentionally taken from them.

Ignoring his bravado, Catrin drew deeply from the saddle and lent that energy to Kyrien's spirit. She had half expected him to balk, but he received the healing with good grace, and for that Catrin was grateful. Ahead of them, the skies darkened, a storm cloud crowding the horizon. Kyrien flew straight toward it.

* * *

"The Herald is coming, m'lord," Grimwell said, unable to keep the tremor from his voice.

"Good," Thorakis said in a long breath, his eyes distant.

"The men are in place, awaiting your word."

Thorakis looked as if he would speak, his focus suddenly returning, but a black-scaled tail coiled around the base of the basalt throne. This throne was new. The dragons had brought it from where only the gods knew, and ever since, Thorakis had been more and more difficult to reach. The time had come for Grimwell to leave; there was nothing more he could do. His master was lost, and everything they had built was about to come down around them. Seethe was the one truly in control here, Grimwell thought, and that evil beast cared not a whit about what happened to Thorakis or any other human.

"The Herald will be angry," Thorakis said, looking semilucid. "She will come for revenge. She and her tongueless husband will want me to pay. This time there will be no caution, no restraint, and they'll do exactly as I want them to."

"Yes, m'lord," Grimwell said, not knowing what else to say. He felt as if his time were rapidly slipping away. The smell of feral dragons filled his nostrils, and he nearly choked. Not far away, the abominations watched. Grimwell could still not believe such things existed, yet they stood, watching him, as if they knew his treasonous thoughts. Swallowing hard, Grimwell tried to pay attention to what Thorakis was saying.

"The men at the bell are ready?"

"Yes, m'lord," Grimwell said hurriedly. "Good men, all of them. I chose them myself."

Thorakis nodded, looking only half satisfied with the response. "And what of the second phase of our plan,
wizard?
Have the riders been sent?"

"They have, m'lord."
And may the gods have mercy on the people of the Greatland,
Grimwell thought.
May they have the wisdom to accept defeat before they are destroyed.
Though many of the people had treated him as if he were the enemy, Grimwell did not wish all the peoples of the Greatland dead. Yet he'd sent the riders; he'd given the orders. How could he claim anything but responsibility? Again, he hoped the people chose to surrender to the might of the greater force. Perhaps then they would have a chance.

Grimwell had seen the men who bathed in ash, and he knew they outnumbered the conscripted men from the Greatland in Thorakis's armies. For even those conscripted men from the Greatland, Grimwell felt a hint of compassion. They had done only what they thought was best for their people and their families, just as he had. They had been wrong. It would've been better to have starved, but it was too late now. That was the thought that rang most loudly in Grimwell's mind. It was too late.

Chapter 14

Words of disparagement often drown out the sound of praise.

--Master Jarvis, teacher

* * *

The mists of morning hung over the land, blanketing it in white. Hills, houses, and barns poked from the mists, and Kyrien flew down low, weaving between any obstacles that protruded from the fog. Looking behind her, Catrin saw that Prios still slept. It was a blessing since she knew how great his pain must be. Kyrien was awake and alert, and Catrin could sense his pain as well. It mixed with her own and left Catrin's thoughts in a red haze. None of them was in fighting condition, yet none of them would be turned away from this fight.

Nothing was more important to Catrin than finding Thorakis at the earliest possible moment and putting an end to him. Only then would she be able to stop and properly grieve the loss of her son, her home, and the regent dragons. Even the thought of processing so much grief nearly overwhelmed her, and she forced the feelings back down into her gut, all the while knowing she would pay the price later. For that moment, all she wanted was justice. In truth, she knew what she really wanted was revenge, but calling it justice made her feel better.

Before, she'd always found some way to forgive those who'd hurt her, even those who'd taken her mother's life, but what Thorakis and his black army were doing was beyond her ability to forgive. It shamed her, yet she also drew strength from it. Human and fallible, she was no goddess or deity, no matter what power she possessed. In many ways, she was still just a frightened little girl, but not at that moment; fury made her strong.

Kyrien stayed low to the ground, and shouts rose up from around them as they passed. Behind them the mist swirled and parted before slowly drifting back in to cover their path. The land rose up before them, an irregular and angled peak jutting from the mists. The saddle creaked as Kyrien followed the contour higher and higher. More cries echoed from behind them as they could be easily seen against the side of the mountain.

As soon as they crested the peak, Catrin felt her skin crawl; before them lay a sight that inflamed her blood. Dark soldiers, demons, giants, and what looked like normal soldiers clogged the landscape like a black infection. More of the monstrous weapons had been erected here, only these were of a different sort. Catrin was trying to understand the nature of them when a haunting sound cut the air. Ringing a discordant note, what sounded like a giant fire bell rang out in a measured beat. It made Catrin's teeth hurt. Prios stirred behind her, and his grunts made it clear that his pain was as great as she had expected. She wanted to soothe him, but there was no time. Darkness seemed to spring from everywhere at once.

Dragons dropped from the ubiquitous clouds above. Only a brief stirring of the gray mists served as warning before angry ferals burst from within. The clouds roiled in the aftermath, and the air around them was filled with wings, teeth, and claws. Despite his condition, Prios launched attacks of lightning, fire, and air, though it seemed with little thought or aim. There were so many of the ferals that his attacks struck nonetheless, and Catrin did her best to match his intensity. Her chest swelled with pride at the strength of her husband, and tears refused to remain within her. A price must be paid for their son's death, and the time had come to exact that price. There was no room for restraint or forethought. This was the time to act.

What leaped from her fingers was unlike anything she'd ever experienced. Black flames tipped with orange and blue reeked of her darkest feelings, things she did not want to admit existed within her, yet it poured from her like poison from a festering wound. Only then did she realize she was screaming, and she could feel the satisfying resistance when her attacks struck prey.

Even with her and Prios attacking and Kyrien doing his best to evade incoming attacks, there were too many ferals to avoid. The beasts took advantage of every opening, and Catrin just barely avoided being impaled on a gleaming black claw; Prios was not as fortunate. There came a terrible sound from behind Catrin, a sound she hoped never to hear again, especially from her husband. She wanted to turn and see how badly he was hurt, to lend him energy and heal him as best she could, but there was no time.

Weapons Catrin had seen, and an even larger number that she had not seen, sprang to life and delivered their deadly charges. Some hurled clusters of sharpened saplings that fanned out and filled the air. Others spit fire. Still others hurled smoking clay pots shaped like teardrops. When these struck, they sent flaming pitch in a wide radius. Again, Prios and Kyrien were burned, and this time Catrin knew their pain as she was unable to escape the grip of the sticking pitch, which refused to be put out. Still burning, Catrin cast a spherical barrier around them. It would not keep out the dragons and probably would not deflect projectiles, but it would hold air. Drawing the remaining air within into her palm, she effectively created a vacuum. The flames died immediately, and Catrin's ears popped. Releasing the barrier, the air rushed back in to fill the void with a clap, and Catrin felt as if she were within a giant bell. Her head felt as if it might explode, and she reconsidered the wisdom of that tactic. But it had, at least, put out the flames.

It took several deep breaths for Catrin to regain her senses, and Prios launched attacks from behind her, grunting and panting as he did so, and she knew he was hurt badly. Unable to stand the thought of him in pain, Catrin turned and saw him fighting with everything he had left, which was terrifyingly little. Concern for him was accompanied by pride. She reached out her hands to him, intending to lend him energy, to let him fight, and to bolster his strength.

Her hands never reached him.

In one swift motion, a feral dragon swooped in and snatched Prios from the saddle. A moment later, that dragon was soaring back toward Riverhold, which was now clearly visible in the morning sun. The feral and Prios's silhouette was clearly defined against the towering walls of Riverhold.

Where most keeps had walls protecting them, Riverhold was more wall than keep. From her current vantage, she could not even see an entrance. Yet the dragon was headed straight for the keep, and Kyrien was in fast pursuit. The air tore at Catrin as Kyrien dived, and she thought her ears might explode. Finally she created pressurized pockets of air around her ears and cursed herself for not thinking of it sooner. While it did reduce her hearing, her head no longer felt as if it would split in two.

Lightning enveloped the feral dragon from underneath, and Catrin knew that Prios was fighting for his life. Catrin considered launching attacks of her own, but she held back, knowing that dead, the dragon would surely let Prios fall. Catrin and Kyrien were too far behind, and Prios would be beyond their reach.

Each time Prios attacked, Catrin cried out, exulted that he was still alive, yet wanting him to keep the dragon alive. Given the scope and power of his attacks, he didn't share that desire. The walls of Riverhold rose up before them, the Yan River pouring out of the bottom of the hold creating as formidable a barrier as Catrin had ever seen. One last time Prios attacked, and the dragon looked as if its insides were on fire; it shone from within. The feral released Prios from its grip, and his trajectory would land him in the raging falls that poured from the keep.

Screaming, Catrin hurled ropes of air to catch him, knowing she was already too late. The turbulent air around the falls tossed Prios, and Catrin's ropes of energy were twisted and warped, no longer doing as she wished. Prios fell away from her; she was losing him. Even as he grew smaller, he began to glow from within, and by the time he reached the base of Riverhold, Catrin had to avert her eyes. Perhaps, she thought, he had done that as a kindness to her, not wanting her to witness the moment of his death. In the next instant, Catrin knew it was much more than kindness. This had been Prios's final attack, and the power of it was terrifying. She felt the pressure change first; immediately after came the light--fire--in a racing shock wave.

Kyrien folded his wings and could do little else as the wall of energy threw them backward harder than anything either of them had ever experienced. Darkness crowded Catrin's vision, and only the defensive energy she cast out about herself and Kyrien, albeit late, kept her from passing out. With tremendous effort, Catrin was able to divert much of the energy from Prios's attack around them. She tried hard not to think of it as Prios's final attack, even if she knew it to be true. She could no longer sense him.

Prios was gone.

* * *

Sound came to Sinjin in muffled bursts. Everything hurt and the air he breathed tasted thin and overwarm. Feeling as if he would suffocate, Sinjin forced his aching limbs to respond and pry himself out from under whatever it was that was trying to kill him. From the way he felt, it was succeeding. The weight shifted and light poured in from a lifted corner. Slowly Sinjin remembered that he'd been beaten and shoved under something heavy. With the light came fresh air, and Sinjin felt some relief immediately.

"But you tried to kill him," he heard Kendra say, and he remained very still, not wanting anyone to know he was awake.

"I regret that it was so," came the voice of the tall man. "It was required to maintain the ruse. Had I refused, I would have had to fight these men. That would've ended badly for me."

"Will they die?"

"No," the man said. "They'll sleep until we're well away from here. It's true that some may not wake, and that's something that I'll have on my hands. I regret that it is so, but it is."

"So you want me to help you get 'dead weight' over there to some stone forest, so you can ask what to do next. Have I got it right?"

The man sighed. "I suppose you could put it that way."

"Who's pulling the strings? Tell me," Kendra said, and Sinjin could almost see her standing with her legs slightly apart, her knees bent, ready to fight. It was an oddly alluring vision, and Sinjin struggled to focus.

"As I've already told you, I cannot say. I've sworn an oath."

"Perhaps I should make you swear some new oaths," Kendra said.

"I'm really starting to think unchaining you was a bad idea."

"Tell me," Kendra said with a threat in her voice, and Sinjin thought he heard the man swallow hard.
"Tell me."

"Lord Jharmin Kyte."

The words fell from the man like an admission of cardinal guilt.

"Wait," Kendra said. "Catrin’s cousin’s husband?"

"Yes. The same."

"Why?" Kendra asked, no less insistent.

"Why what?"

"Why are you here? Why is the boy under that armor or whatever it is? Why did you betray your brothers? Why should I believe anything you say?"

"It's a long tale, and we need to get away from here." There came a strangled sound, and the tall man continued in a higher pitch. "I'm a spy, sent here by Lord Kyte. Lady Kyte enlisted my help in using the magic of the stone forest."

"Magic. Pah!"

"I swear to you, there is magic there, and I can hear Lord Kyte."

Again there came a strangled sound. "I thought you said Lady Kyte enlisted your help with the stone forest."

"Yes, but she has left Ravenhold—" The man stopped suddenly, as if he had suddenly realized he'd made a very big mistake.

"Go on."

"And . . . and now I talk with Lord Kyte in her stead."

"You're not telling me everything," Kendra said.

"I am. I swear to you that I am."

"I almost believe you," Kendra said. "Get him out from under there before he suffocates."

"No," the man said. Again came the strangled sound. "My orders are to keep him under the blanket until we reach the forest."

"Do I have to explain to you who's giving the orders now?"

"It won't hurt him any."

"I assume you mean it won't hurt him any
more,
" Kendra said, the accusation heavy in her words.

"Yes. It won't hurt him any more than he's already hurt."

"Let's see if we can get the little man up, shall we?"

Sinjin bristled at her remark.

"Sinjin," came the man's voice, "can you hear me?"

It took a moment for Sinjin to decide what to say. When he did speak, his face ached and there were shooting pains in his swollen lips. "I can," was all he could say.

"My name is Hand, and I'm sorry I hurt you. It was necessary. I'm in the employ of House Kyte, and Lord Kyte wishes I deliver you to him. Do you capitulate?"

"Take me to him," he managed.

"What is the purpose of the
'blanket'?
" Kendra asked, her voice insistent.

Hand considered for a moment before answering. "It keeps people from sensing his presence."

"People like who?" she persisted.

"People like Thorakis and the monks above and the dragons. Need I go on? If they know he's out from under that blanket, they'll come to find him."

Kendra waved him off. "He can't even stand. How's he going to walk under the weight of that thing?"

Hand again considered his words. Though Sinjin didn't like him, he admitted Hand might be a wise man. "I thought perhaps you would help him."