The Book of Deacon: Book 03 - The Battle of Verril (57 page)

“What can we expect?” Myranda asked.

“Chaos. Madness. Hundreds of years of energy
released at once without will or form. Raw untamed mystic carnage,”
Ether replied.

“How do we stop it?” Myranda pressed
further.

“It cannot be stopped. It will continue until
its reserves run dry,” came the answer, Ether's voice a resigned,
steady tone.

“If it is pure mystic energy, can we harness
it?” the wizard suggested.

“I would imagine so. Insomuch as you can
drink the ocean,” she answered.

Myranda put her staff to the ground and
traced out a large circle. Within it she inscribed a triangle.
Finally she stood her staff in its center. It was a practice
described in careful detail by Deacon as one that aided a link
between wizards when they were to work as one. Ideally she would
have traced out a five pointed figure, but Myranda's recent
experience with the vast expenditure of borrowed power made it
clear to her that it was an undertaking unsuitable for the
untrained mind. Were Myn or Lain to be included they might well be
able to draw in the power, but there was no way that they would be
able to release it again. No, this was a task for herself, the
shape shifter, and . . .

“That last spot isn't for me, is it?” Ivy
asked nervously as her friends took up positions at the other
points.

“We need you,” Myranda said.

“But I don't know magic,” Ivy offered
meekly.

“All you need to do is waste it. You are
uniquely suited to that,” Ether said, a hint of her old self in her
tone.

Reluctantly she took up her position at the
corner of the triangle pointing toward the portal. The three joined
hands and waited. They did not have to wait long. The tiny, faint
fleck of blue light that was the portal winked out in the distance.
It was silently replaced by a blinding white filament of light that
began at the ground and continued into the sky, piercing the clouds
and showing through them. The line spread slowly, as though reality
itself was being spread aside like a curtain to reveal the plane
beyond. The sound came next. It was a tone at the edge of hearing,
high pitched and haunting, like a distant choir echoing through the
dimensions.

The shaft of light bathed the whole of the
mountain range in its unearthly glow. It painted the clouds chalk
white and brighter than day. In Northern Capital, all eyes turned
to it. Residents stopped their rejoicing and rebuilding. In a dozen
forests across the north, woodland creatures stood frozen in terror
of the sight. At the battlefront, soldiers standing at uneasy
attention, awaiting long overdue orders and longer overdue
reinforcements turned their backs to their counterparts across the
border and watched as the hair thin line of light pushed back the
clouds. In Entwell Num Garastra, wizards and warriors watched the
light over the edge of the mountain and waited. They alone knew
what it was. It was the last of Hollow's prophesies.

“What is that? What is behind me?” Ivy asked
nervously, turning to look over her shoulder.

“No, Ivy. Not yet,” Myranda instructed. “Just
close your eyes and open your mind. Ether and I will do the work
for now.”

The shape shifter and the wizard began to
sink deeply into focus. What little energy was left inside of them
began to spread and flow between them. Slowly the line between
their minds began to blur. The thoughts, feelings, and strengths of
each hero joined with those of the others. The timid mind of Ivy
rose beside the complex thoughts of Ether and the dutiful focus of
Myranda. Like a boat caught in a current, without truly
understanding how, Ivy felt herself aiding in the construction of a
spell.

Outside of the ring, the drawn circle and
triangle now beginning to glow, Myn and Lain became aware of
something else. In the light cast by the beam, the mountainside
spreading below them seemed to be alive. A low rumble was growing
steadily louder. The twisted forms of the army of demons that had
flooded from the portal had reached them. Myn looked upon the horde
almost with relief. Now, at least, her role was clear. She stalked
a few long paces down the slight slope of the mountain, dug her
claws into the rocky soil, unfurled her wings, and waited. Lain
drew his sword and followed suit.

By the time the first of the dark creatures
clashed with the warriors, the shaft of light had grown into a
wall. The surface, from a distance featureless, now seemed to
ripple with prominences and tendrils. It slid in eerie
near-silence, only the distant wail accompanying the smooth,
undaunted motion of the cataclysm. It devoured whole mountainsides,
the occasional filament of light twisting out and tracing a random
line along the ground, offering a terrible insight into what the
wall was leaving behind it. Earth and stone shone brilliantly and
then . . . changed. Much of it vanished. More troubling were the
other effects. Here a cluster of stones shifted to a flock of
winged creatures that scattered. There a patch of field
miraculously sprouted an Eden of magnificent flowers and trees.
Monolithic stones rolled to the ground as liquid. All manner of
random, inconceivable effects flashed into being at the touch of a
tendril from the wall, only to be swallowed as the band of light
pressed forward.

One by one, thin threads of light drew away
from the surface of the wall, twisting and winding through the air
and finally coiling about Myranda's staff. The power began to build
and pool within the three focused minds. It came slowly at first,
but as the wall drew nearer, threads of energy became thicker and
more numerous. Myranda's mind pulled and twisted at a spell she'd
used a dozen times before, a shield against magic. It had served
its purpose in the past, but now it was not enough. It was possible
nothing would be enough, but she could not afford to think that
now. She modified it, catering it to precisely the sort of energy
that made up the wall, and cast it forward. The surface of the wall
rippled slightly and bowed inward. It slowed, but did not stop. As
Myranda gave a tiny fragment of the well of stolen power form, Ivy
and Ether fought to contain and spill off the rest.

The energy poured in as a torrent, then as a
flood. It was wicking away from the wall, now only a mountain away,
in a tendril of energy nearly filling the mystic circle. Myranda's
efforts were as great as any spell she'd cast before this battle
had begun, and even so she was making a barely noticeable draw on
the ocean of energy that was every moment threatening to drown
them. Ether gathered up her share of the surplus power and hurled
it skyward. She was a being composed of magic, and had been host to
energies that could have reduced a city to rubble, but even she
could not release the power quickly enough. A shaft of energy
surrounded her and stretched high into the sky, twisting and
curling into complex shapes. Her flesh and bone body began to hiss
and sizzle. It was clear she needed a new form, but none that she'd
taken before would do. Even her flame form was too efficient, it
could not waste the power that needed disposal, nor could it serve
as a suitable conduit. There was, however one that just might. A
form she never would have dared assume otherwise. Mystic strength
leaked from it like water from a sieve. Taking the form would tax
her to her limit while achieving nothing. In the circumstances, it
was perfect.

To the others the change came merely as a
distant sensation of a warm soft hand shifting to a cold hard one
in their grips, but that was far, far away, in the physical world.
The far more important and far more impressive change came in the
world within their minds. It was as though floodgates had been
thrown aside and the sea of energy had an escape. The pressure
scorching their minds and roasting their souls lessened, and the
remaining energy sloshed and shifted, distributing itself among the
others a slice more thinly.

Outside of the mystic circle, madness
reigned. Myn was grappling with beasts as large as she, tearing and
incinerating them, all the while lashing her tail against hordes of
smaller creatures. Lain's sword slashed and severed beasts several
at a time. The crooked tunnel of energy coiling toward the others
was a constant threat, sweeping and twisting across the mountaintop
like a snake. Swift kicks and well placed throws sent unlucky
creatures into the writhing form, their swift, spectacular ends
making it terrifyingly clear what would happen should Lain or Myn
be too slow to avoid it. Then there was the wall.

It was at the base of the mountain now, and
moving steadily up, as though the end of the universe was creeping
toward them. To either side of the battleground it was bulging
outward, as portions unhindered by Myranda's ambitious spell began
to pull ahead. It cast a glow brighter than day. There were no
shadows, as though the abundance of light rushed in to fill any
crevice, or perhaps passed through solid forms uninhibited. Despite
how near it was, the distant wail remained distant, as though it
was not made by the wall, but by some far off creature, fearing
what the wall might bring. The thunder of hooves, claws, and
tentacles should have drowned it out, but the haunting sound cut
through the tumult easily, ringing at once clear and indistinct in
their minds.

As Lain hurled a hawk-like creature into the
beam that erupted from where Ether had once stood, his eyes caught
something a few hundred paces down the mountain. It was not one of
the creatures. It was something worse. Something that could not
have been more out of place in the valley. It was a patch of
darkness. Even the black skinned menagerie they fought was painted
by the white light to appear gray at best. Below was a shape that
managed to resist the light. An instinct deep in Lain's mind told
him that this thing, whatever it was, was the real threat. The rush
of creatures, even the wall of energy, were meaningless. Carving
himself an opening, Lain launched himself toward it.

“I can't stand it. It is agony! What do I do!
The energy!” Ivy screamed in her mind as she struggled.

The flow of stolen energy had been growing
exponentially, and Ivy was approaching her limit. Until now she'd
done her part, passively letting the energy that the others could
not handle seep into her soul, but now she was full to bursting.
She'd learned nothing of focus, nothing of discipline, nothing of
cordoning off energy within her soul and reserving a piece of her
mind for thinking. The energy permeated her. Every cell of her body
and every nuance of her soul dripped with it. The others had been
watching within their linked minds, concern building but tasks of
their own to see to. A solution had been prepared from the
beginning, held back until now due to the very real threat that it
might cause, but the time had come.

“Ivy,” said Myranda and Ether at once, each
bracing herself. “Open your eyes.”

The malthrope did so. A single image entered
her mind. Ether was a barely visible, perfectly transparent
crystalline form within a shaft of light. Myranda was almost hidden
behind strips and strands of mystic energy that orbited her as she
formed her spells. Directly in front of her was an undulating,
untamed tower of twisting energy. Shapes never meant to be seen
whorled across the surface. The corners of her eyes contributed
half seen struggles between Myn and more of the very beasts she'd
fought in the valley. At the very limits of her vision, there was
nothing at all . . . only a complete, unbroken wall of white. She
turned her head, taking in the wonder and horror of the wall. The
poor creature's mind never had a chance.

When the fear took control of her the others
had to direct a part of their minds toward a spell to augment their
strength enough to keep the struggling creature from slipping from
their grasp. The brilliant blue aura around her rivaled the wall
for brightness. The mystic load tipped in her direction as her soul
dumped its reserves and feasted on theirs in an all-consuming
attempt to escape the chaos by any means necessary. Her voice rose
into a scream of terror that rang loud and clear in even in the
distant capital.

#

Thousands of residents in the Northern
Capital shuddered at the sound of the sudden shriek as they stared
in silent terror at the wall approaching. Deacon's face alone wore
an expression beside that of abject horror. It was plastered with a
look of wonder and fascination.

“What is it?” Caya managed when she found her
voice.

“It is . . . the end,” Deacon replied.

#

Lain charged toward the wall. The air around
him tugged and pulled. It was alive, almost with a mind. It was
something a wizard was trained to feel, but one needed no training
now. The distortions were real. Reality was turning and stretching,
warping in the mystic heat of the furnace of energy a stone's throw
away. He ignored it, along with every instinct in his mind save
one. His eyes were in agony as they locked on black form against
the whiteness of the wall. It was moving swiftly, just ahead of the
rippling chaos. Whatever it was, it had no details, like a vaguely
human void cut out of the universe. It was unrecognizable, yet it
was unmistakable. It was Bagu.

Gone was whatever human form he'd had
constructed when he first came to this world. What was left was the
black as midnight essence that had festered within it, his true
form. What might have been arms extended forward, twisting what
might have been fingers into arcane positions. A voice that came
from nowhere was uttering syllables no mouth could form. If the
blight on the landscape had eyes, they were focused intently on the
circle of heroes just visible as a nexus of energy past the next
rise. He was on the cusp of completing a spell that would shatter
the circle, and the Chosen within it.

A blade swept through his immaterial form,
the carefully selected and etched runes of its surface reacting
with the unnatural energies. There was nothing to cut, yet the
sword made its mark. Bagu cried out and collapsed to the ground.
Lain stood over him, placing the tip of his sword in the center of
what should have been the demon's back. The air around him swirled
and churned. Around the pair, a glimmering shield rose up just in
time to absorb a bolt of energy bursting from the wall just steps
away.