The Fifth Vertex (The Sigilord Chronicles) (27 page)

Urus was about to ask another question when Murin continued, sensing the question before it was asked.

The few sigilords who survived, only a handful if I recall, fled to another universe, and this world and the universe in which it resides was sealed off from the others when the last vertex was put in place. The Fulcrum War ended, and after all this time this world has still not fully recovered from the damage it caused
.

Urus stared at the stone slab in the center of the chamber, the vertex he hadn't noticed until then. Etched sigils that looked as though they could have been carved that morning covered its surface.

So if the blood mages destroy all the vertices, they'll break all the seals and then what?
he
asked.

Then they will escape this universe and find other worlds, worlds filled with millions of people rich in potent magical blood. They will harvest these worlds like corn fields and reap unstoppable power. It will only be worse if they take your blood with them. The devastation left in their wake will be unimaginable
.

Urus studied the cavern ceiling and the narrow columns that lined the passages and shafts leading in all directions like holes in a block of cheese imported from Milof.

Can we bring the mountain down around this chamber to keep them out?
he asked.

That is about all we can do. It will delay them while the briene excavate the rubble. I can find a weak point
, Murin thought, heading off down a shaft, one hand holding the briene torch, the other hand pressed against the ceiling, palm up.

Urus followed to stay in the light now that his vision was back to normal, running his fingers along the rock surface. Unlike the caverns above, these walls were dusty, warm, and riddled with sharp, jagged crystals.

He stopped, something tingling in his fingertips. Curious, he pressed his hands close up to the ceiling. Faint, rumbling vibrations transferred from the rock to his palms, like they did when he felt approaching horses in the stones of the streets of Kest.

Murin, they're coming
, he thought.

Murin halted.
What? Who approaches?

Probably the briene. Hundreds of people running in the caves above us. I can feel it in the rock.

Murin disappeared down a corridor framed by a pair of stalactites. They dodged and weaved through the caves, heading away from the vertex stone slab. He reached an opening with five different shafts extending from it and spun, finger pointed at one stalagmite that had joined with a stalactite to make a tapered column.

There
, Murin thought.
Use your power and destroy that column. If you punch it as hard as you can, your power will shield you and keep the stone from shattering every bone in your hand.

That's comforting
, Urus thought.

You cannot doubt it or hold back, or it will not work. Punch the column with all your might and it will bring the caves down around the vertex
, Murin projected.

What about us? Or the people fleeing Waldron for the far side of the mountain?

They will be fine. They're too far away and much too high to be affected. Us, on the other hand, I am not so sure about. But this must be done. The Order cannot break another seal. It would be like letting loose an insatiable predator among countless worlds filled with defenseless cattle.

Urus wasn't ready to die, not now. But if he was going to die, he would rather it be trying to save people than wasting his own life by throwing it off a roof.

He nodded resolutely and stood before the column. He could now feel the vibrations of the approaching host of briene pulsating up through his boots. He took a step back, readied himself in attack stance, made a tight fist, and closed his eyes.

Urus struck, his fist lashing out before him, using the rotational energy of his body like an uncoiling spring, exploding into the stone column. He felt the impact and braced for the pain he was sure would follow.

There was no pain; just that same quick pressure followed by a snap like the one that happened when breaking practice boards back in Kest. His bones were intact and the column lay not just in shards, but pulverized nearly to powder.

Run
, urged Murin's mind.
We have started an earthquake.

The cavern shook and pieces of stone tumbled away from the ceiling. Murin and Urus sprinted out of the chamber, back down the shafts through which they had come. Before they could reach the vertex chamber, a group of briene spilled into the cave, weapons at the ready, seemingly unconcerned with the mountain collapsing around them.

With the same stance and clenched fist he had used on the stone column, Urus punched the first briene with every ounce of power he could call forth. A blue light erupted from his fist and the briene flew back, smashing into his companions and hammering them all to the ground.

Before Urus could attack again, Murin was upon them, snatching up their unlit torches and stuffing them into his robe. Then he ran for the vertex room.

Appalled but unable to do anything about it, Urus followed.

They got to the room housing the stone slab as more debris fell from the ceiling.

We must flee or be buried here
, Murin thought.

If we go, the blood mages get the vertex.

They will get it whether we die here or not. If we live, we may yet still stop them at the next vertex, and the blood mages will not get your blood
, Murin thought. He pointed pointing to the sigil on the slab identical to the one Urus had touched before in Kest, the one that had brought them to Waldron.

Urus stepped to the slab and held out his hand. He looked back over his shoulder to see swarms of briene surging out of side tunnels and making for their position. In seconds they would be overrun.

He pressed his palm to the sigil. A warmth filled his hand and extended up his arm.

The world vanished in a burst of blue fire.

21

Goodwyn Stom stood on the small ledge on the cliff, overlooking an ocean of puffy clouds stretching from horizon to horizon. Infinite, perfect blue filled the void above. The sharp cliffs poked up through the clouds like cloven hoofs, piercing the veil of a thick, white sheen.

Clouds are supposed to be above, not below
, thought Goodwyn.

Soldiers clung to every inch of usable rock on either side of the road and all along the ramparts. Wrapped in their windrunner cloaks, steeling themselves against the buffeting winds, they looked like a cast of falcons, each claiming a tiny piece of the rock for their nest.

It was all so beautiful, and he knew that it wouldn't last. They were under attack, and soon blood would run thick, staining the pristine cliffs with the inevitable aftermath of war.

I wish Therren could see thi
s, he thought.

Absently he stroked the smooth bronze pendant hanging from his neck. Urus had teased him that it might have been a gift from one of the many girls who sought to court him. Goodwyn smiled at the thought, remembering the night he got it.

***

He'd been sitting cross-legged atop an ale barrel, his back against the cool stone wall of the tavern, his gaze transfixed on the beautiful orange glow of the palace. The sunstone stood out like a bright star in the night sky, even from the far edge of town where he waited.

"Wyn," came a whisper from the dark.

Goodwyn grinned, immediately recognizing the young man's voice. "All good."

Therren Muldown stepped out of the shadows in the alley behind the tavern, his shadowy form gradually solidifying into the shape of a tall, strong, short-haired young man as he drew nearer the lamp hanging from the corner of the building.

Kest's graduating class certainly had better warriors, stronger arms, and faster runners, but none of them could compare to Therren. The two always seemed to know how the other was feeling, and what the other needed to be cheered up.
 

Therren leapt up onto the barrel next to Goodwyn's, mouth parted in a huge smile as he did so. He was an insufferable showoff, but Goodwyn loved that about him. With another deft maneuver, he spun and dropped into a cross-legged position.

"So tomorrow's the big day," said Therren, reaching for Goodwyn's hand. Goodwyn took it.

"Sure is," Goodwyn replied, an electric rush surging from the touch of Therren's hand, through his body and to his feet. His heart quickened.

The two turned to face each other, clutching each other's hands tighter.

"I can't wait. Watching you with the suzur is like being next to a master painter or something," said Therren.

Goodwyn blushed a little, hoping the dim light would hide it. From the glint in Therren's eyes, he knew the light had concealed nothing. "You're biased."

"That doesn't change your skill. Tomorrow all of Kest will get to see it. I'm so proud of you, Wyn."

An awkward moment of silence passed, Therren shooting furtive looks to the left and right.

"It's okay, there's no one around," Goodwyn whispered.

"We can't be sure. If someone sees us, doing…this, we'll be culled, just like Urus—or worse."

"Nobody's going to see us." Goodwyn reached up to touch Therren's cheek.

They leaned in to kiss each other, tenderly at first and then, as Goodwyn's pulse quickened and lungs contracted, he pulled Therren closer.

They stared into each other's eyes for a moment after the kiss and then Therren broke the silence, reaching into a pouch hung from his belt, "I brought you something."

"You didn't need to—"

"Nonsense, you know I did," Therren said. As he dug through the pouch, he added, "Have you told Urus yet? About the First Fist?"
 

Goodwyn and Therren had both been chosen for the First Fist, an honor bestowed on only the best graduates.

"No, I just haven't found the right time."

"You haven't found your balls, you mean." Therren chuckled, pulling something out of the pouch wrapped in a swatch of cloth. "If he finds out from his uncle, or during the ceremony, he's going to bust a blood vessel."

"You're right."

Therren beamed. "I'm always right. Now promise you'll tell him before the ceremony or I'm not giving you this."

"Promise," said Goodwyn, making an "x" with his arms across his chest in the traditional warrior's salute.

Therren unwrapped the item and held it out for inspection. Hanging from a golden chain was a miniature bronze suzur, its chain coiled like a snake ready to strike, a small green gem nestled in the center.

Goodwyn was stunned speechless, barely able to breathe.

"Well, put it on, let me see it on you."

Goodwyn slipped the chain over his neck and let the pendant hang over his linen shirt. He rubbed the gem with his thumb.
 

"It's beautiful."
 

***

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Corliss said, bounding over to Goodwyn's side, his feet as stable as a mountain goat's.

Goodwyn just nodded, still taking it all in, heart aching as he thought about Therren, wondering if he was even alive after the attack and if they would ever be together again.

"It's a shame that war has come to smear blood across a view as majestic as this," Corliss added with a sweep of his arm toward the vista.

"I'm sorry."

"This is not your doing, son. You can't blame yourself for surviving the attack on your home, and your arrival gave us precious early warning to prepare."

"How will it all start?" Goodwyn asked. He'd been through countless drills, read thousands of accounts of battles and skirmishes, and memorized hundreds of strategies, but nothing had prepared him for standing up on that cliff, waiting for the enemy to arrive.

"It's hard to tell. Nobody alive here has experience fighting the briene. If I were them, and had their crazy machines, I would send them in first, try to scare us off the wall and cliffs. Then, once we're running from their flying machines, take the gate. And then I would rush in with the infantry and take the city square by square."

"Have you taken many cities before?" asked Goodwyn.

"Only one, but I've defended more than enough, including this one."

"Do you think we can hold them off, to buy Urus and Murin enough time to do whatever they need to do?"

"What happened to your friend, anyway?" Corliss was clearly changing the subject.

"What do you mean?"

"He is an amazing fighter, even by your standards, and his presence on the wall here could turn the tide of a battle. Yet he goes in search of some magic door."

Goodwyn thought about it for a moment and then answered. "Urus is the best fighter I've ever seen. If he wanted to, he could even defeat me. But his heart isn't in it. I don't think it ever has been. He may be a fighter, but he's not a warrior, if that makes any sense."

Corliss nodded. "He may be on a wiser path than the rest of us, then."

"I asked if you thought we could hold them off," Goodwyn repeated, still fascinated by the cliffs and the thousands of soldiers perched on them.

"No, we can't," Corliss said simply. "Hopefully your friends will find what they need down below the city and find it soon. With their numbers, the briene could overrun our gates in a matter of hours."