Authors: Victor Gischler
Rina pointed to a dark opening in the wall of the mountain. It could barely be called a cave, but it was better than nothing. “That’s where they drop supplies for the monks. Wait there.”
Alem nodded.
Rina drew the enormous two-handed sword from the saddle sheath. She rested the blade on her shoulder. She wouldn’t be able to wield it until she tapped into the spirit.
She squeezed Alem’s shoulder, smiled at him as the rain ran down her face. No words came to her.
“We’ll be here,” he said.
She nodded, turned and climbed.
The stairs rose steeply and curved gently to the left. Her legs ached by the time she reached the top, her chest heaving for breath.
Lighting stabbed the ground fifty feet away, thunder clapping so close over her head she thought the mountain would tumble down upon her. She went to one knee, a reflex, closing her eyes tightly, her whole body tense.
The sky is trying to kill me.
She lifted her head slowly. The next flash of lighting revealed an expansive courtyard of large, square paving stones. Across the courtyard, a tall archway.
She stood, tapped into the spirit and lifted the sword.
She stole across the courtyard, seeing more clearly now through the darkness, sword up and ready. She touched the bowl hanging at her chest to make sure she hadn’t lost it. Her hand drifted down to the leather satchel slung over her shoulder and the leather box within that Talbun had given her. She hoped she wouldn’t need it.
She approached the archway and saw it was the shape of a giant eye. A huge stone snake had been carved twisting around the arch from one end to another, the head of the snake the size of a fat sheep.
Rina watched it warily as she passed beneath the arch.
She was in a flat area at the top of the mountain, completely ringed by giant boulders. The path led one way across the clearing to a wide, squat stone building, wide steps leading up between fluted columns. A peaked roof, another stone rendering of the snake encircling the eye just below the peak.
The temple of Kashar.
But Rina’s path lay in the other direction, to the huge oak sprouting inexplicably from the baked earth and stretching more than a hundred feet into the air, growing in a place where no other green thing existed. It was older than the temple itself, indeed was why—in part—the cult had selected this site for their temple. An omen of life where life was impossible.
Lightning danced around the top of the tree.
A sound reached her above the relentless downpour. Since she was tapped into the spirit, she could separate one sound from another—the thunder, the rain, her own footfalls in the mud and … something else.
The sound of stone scraping on stone, slow at first then faster and then gone and replaced by something scraping along the mud.
She turned suddenly, sword in front of her.
Two eyes burned red in the darkness and rose to loom over her. She saw what it was immediately, but in the next flash of lightning the creature was revealed in all of its terrible glory.
The serpent rose twenty feet over her, coiled on top of itself, readying for a strike. It moved with the liquid flexibility of flesh, but its scales were the flat, pocked gray of old stone. Rina recognized the snake immediately. The stone carving that had been twisted around the archway at the entrance. It had come alive upon her intrusion. Its mouth gaped, fangs like daggers.
Rina discovered a vast store of terror within her, a staggering capacity for fear which would have paralyzed her if she’d allowed herself to feel it. She opened a dark closet within herself and shoved the fear inside, locking the door behind it.
The serpent struck, its massive maw intending to clamp down and rip into her with its fangs.
She dodged aside and swung the sword, using all the strength of the bull tattoo. The blade clanged off the snake’s jaw in a shower of sparks, knocking the head aside. Rina felt the vibration all the way up through her shoulders. She might as well have been banging her sword against the side of a castle.
The serpent’s hiss filled her ears as it rose again for another strike. She brought the sword up and braced herself, jaw set, eyes hard.
She saw the creature’s tail swing in from her right but not in time to do anything.
It struck her in the side like the snapping end of a bull whip and knocked her twenty feet back into the thick trunk of the mighty oak. She felt ribs break, the breath knocked out of her. She grunted, blinked rain from her eyes.
And saw the open mouth flying toward her again.
She rolled to the side, her ribs screaming, and the giant snake head slammed into the tree trunk where she’d been a split second before.
Rina sprang up in a fighting crouch. Already a warmth spread through her side, mending ribs, Weylan’s healing rune pulsing in her skin. She’d lost the two-handed sword when the serpent’s tail had slammed her, and she reached for the rapier at her side.
But the serpent didn’t strike again. Its stone fangs had sunk deep into the trunk of the giant oak. The great snake thrashed and writhed, trying to dislodge itself.
Rina sensed the tail sooner this time and jumped straight into the air. It passed beneath her, and she leaped out of the way to avoid the backswing.
Lightning. The splintering sound of wood.
Her head jerked up to see the limb plunging down toward her head. She dodged, and it landed next to her, a branch as big around as her thigh. She knelt quickly at the end that had been struck by lightning, but it was already wet.
No, it wouldn’t be that easy, would it?
Another jagged lightning strike lit the top of the tree. The higher branches glowed with flame. Rina didn’t know how long it would last in this downpour. She went to the trunk, ran her hands over the rough bark. The tree was old and warped, knots and fissures covering its surface. Hand and toe holds wouldn’t be a problem.
She climbed.
Each flash of lightning illuminated the raindrops falling toward her face like a barrage of crystal sling stones hailed down upon her from the heavens. Like stars rushing down toward her from the fires of the sky.
She climbed faster. The top of the tree blazed, but the rain came so hard it would douse the fire soon.
Rina reached the lowest branches and the climbing went easier. She looked down.
The serpent had freed itself and had coiled around the trunk, spiraling slowly upward. The glowing red eyes advanced toward Rina, the menacing hiss a deadly promise.
The part of her that was the young girl Rina Veraiin strung together a collage of curses so inventive that Kork would have been proud even as he scolded her.
But it was the Ink Mage that controlled her actions. She calculated the serpent’s speed, looked up again at an appropriate limb.
She could make it.
She redoubled her speed, fingers digging into the bark, searching for a hold. She ripped a nail, ignored the pain. The sky blazed blue white as another bolt struck the tree above her. Thunder shook the world.
Rina pulled herself up to the limb she’d picked from below, threw a leg over and heaved herself into a sitting position. She checked the progress of the Serpent. Thirty feet and still coming.
Another part of Rina’s mind noted her ribs had completely healed. It was added to the rushing river of information flowing through her consciousness. The rain, the lightning, the serpent.
Twenty feet and closing.
She pulled the leather satchel into her lap and withdrew the small wooden box Talbun had given her. She opened it, the red-hot glow from within washing over her. Inside, three glass balls each the size of a hen’s egg but perfectly round. Within each, fire swirled, like a volcano trapped behind glass.
In half a heartbeat, Rina replayed her conversation with the wizard.
“Throw them hard at the enemy,” Talbun had instructed her. “And stand back.”
“What if I fall and knock one by accident?” Rina had asked.
“The magic knows friend from foe,” Talbun had assured her.
Rina plucked the three glass spheres from the box, discarded it, dropped two of the balls back into the satchel, hoping the wizard was right about the magic not turning on her. She already had lightning and a serpent to deal with. She didn’t need rogue magic trying to kill her too.
Fifteen feet.
She held the ball like a throwing stone, cocked it back to her ear, arm muscles tight and ready to release.
Ten feet.
She threw, hand and eye perfectly coordinated. The ball struck the serpent below the right eye, shattered and—
—the shock from the explosion lifted her off the tree limb. She flinched away, fire scorching her face, bits of stone embedding in one side of her face and ripping away a chunk of her earlobe.
The world tumbled—rain, lightning, fire.
Rina flailed out with her arms, hit the limb hard in the chest and wrapped her arms around it. Blood dripped down one side of her face, mixed with the rain.
She looked down.
No sign of the stone serpent.
She pulled herself back onto the limb, paused to pick the gravel out of her face. Already the healing magic worked to close the wounds.
Rina climbed toward the fire at the top of the tree.
She reached the lowest burning limb, made sure she had good footing, and then drew her dagger. She pried a glowing chunk of wood into the lid of the earthen bowl, scraping in some ash as well. She dumped it into the bow, secured the lid.
Rina looked down. It would be a long, slippery climb, but she had to hurry, had to return with her prize before it went cold.
Something slammed hot her into her back. Rina’s entire body vibrated and she fell, cracking small branches on the way down until she smacked hard into a thick, forked limb. She sucked hard for breath, her mind telling her what had happened.
You’ve been struck by lightning
.
It could have been worse. She could have fallen all the way to the ground. Would her healing power be enough to survive a fall like that? Rina didn’t want to find out. Yes, it could have been
much
worse.
A sudden motion below caught her attention. She looked down.
The stone serpent slithered up the tree again, one eye burning red as blood and fire.
The horses were so restless that Alem finally had to do something. He cut strips from a blanket and tied them around the horses’ eyes. They calmed but still flinched with every crack of thunder.
Calling the shallow gouge in the side of the mountain a cave was being generous. Alem and Maurizan had tied the horses all the way at the back, which left Alem and Maurizan hunched at the mouth of the cave, rain blowing in on them when the wind shifted.
Alem took the remains of the blanket and dropped them around Maurizan’s shoulders before sitting next to her.
She leaned toward him, had to shout over the downpour. “I’ve never seen a storm this bad.”
“Neither have I,” he shouted back.
She scooted closer to him, shivering.
Alem tried not to think about her, how close she was, and how nice her wet red hair looked tucked behind her ear. He may have been a world-class thicko, but it was obvious she had feelings for him although why he couldn’t guess. Maybe that was the most intoxicating thing about her, that she so openly wanted him. How could a man stand fast against a tide of such raw and honest emotion?
And why would he want to?
Because that means you’ve given up. It means you’re admitting what will never happen
.
His eyes drifted to the steep set of stone steps that led up to the temple.
Alem thought about Brasley instead. He hoped the jackass was okay wherever he was. Maybe he’d had the right idea after all. Alem wouldn’t have minded a warm bed in a comfortable inn. And a hot meal.
A stab of lightning hit so close it blinded him. Earth-shattering thunder followed immediately, and Maurizan gasped and grabbed his arm.
Alem blinked the spots from his eyes.
Maurizan looked up at him, embarrassed, but she kept her hand on Alem’s arm, almost like she was staking a claim. She squeezed softly, and the embarrassment in her face melted into a tentative smile. She scooted closer still, her leg pressed to his.
Maurizan opened her mouth to speak, closed it again, piecing him with her gaze, the plea in her eyes so plain it was painful to see.
Alem put an arm around her shoulder. “You’re shivering.” There was suddenly something nervous bouncing around in his stomach. He felt hot and cold at the same time.
Her eyes were enormous and deep, and to Alem they seemed almost like they cast some spell. Maybe they did. The same sort of magic all women have.
“Alem.” Her voice was barely a whisper, yet it pierced the rain and thunder.
He wasn’t sure he could breathe, his heart hammering against his chest.
She titled her face up to him, mouth falling slightly open. “Please.”
He felt dizzy.
Maurizan’s other hand slipped in behind him, held his neck, pulled him forward, down to her, insistent, pleading.
Alem’s lips pressed hard against hers; their tongues found one another, an explosion of textures and desires.
It felt like something he’d been waiting for all his years, like he hadn’t lived until now. It was warm and wet and frightening and wonderful. Thunder boomed. Rain lashed the earth. It seemed her lips wanted to devour him. It felt like triumph.
And it felt like giving up.
One glowing red eye came up after her. She’d put out the other one with Talbun’s magical explosive. She thought she’d finished with the beast.
Rina had been mistaken.
There was a crater below the right eye of the great snake where the stone had been blown away, as if rogue masons had set to it with hammers. She’d put a dent in the serpent, that was for sure, but it was far from vanquished.
And now it was coming back for her.
She sucked in a lungful of breath and climbed.
A glance over her shoulder and she knew she wasn’t fast enough. The serpent would overtake her. She paused on the next thick limb, hand dipping into her satchel. She came out with another of the explosive glass balls. It wouldn’t kill the thing, but maybe she could slow it down again.