Rise of the Dead Prince (44 page)

55
The Sun Also Rises

L
ovo watched on in horror as his daughter stood frozen, her face frozen in an agonizing scream. Black tears were on her uncovered face. She had stepped backward into the source, and there she stood still
…
with
him.
In an instant, quicker than Lovo could perceive, Meier had broken his fetters and appeared in the source column, apparently taking Suvira with him. Lovo had tried to pry them apart but found that the light repelled
him.

He cursed himself. He had told her to probe his mind, but he could not have foreseen or even imagined such a thing as this happening. There they stood hand in hand, but even more baffling was the look on
his
face. He seemed to be completely content, even
elated
, despite the fact that he now stood in the source column. It made no sense. The concentration of the source at the center was more than anyone could withstand, even as high as they were in the t
ower.

He felt sickened as he looked at Meier. The orphan prince was smiling kindly and genuinely at his
torturer
. He held her hands compassionately, like one giving comfort. His eyes were nearly closed, so wide and earnest was his smile. There was no spite in him
…
not even a trace. Lovo cursed him for what he was, for what he had done, for what he stood for, and for his whole exist
ence.

He looked at him and saw Krokus, or rather
Crocus,
as he had been and then what he had become. He cursed the siblings that he should have destroyed. They had been the doom of his people. Beol’s last words haunted
him.

“
Nothing lasts for
ever.”

Lovo had fought against that axiom for all his long existence. He had read the signs, but he had never seen this. Perhaps it had been there. If it had been, he would have rejected it outright. Such was the way with prophecy. It tended to show people only what they could accept as poss
ible.

Lovo cursed Meier again passionately, using long lost forms of profanity he had learned in his youth. He cursed his daughter as well. She was the last of a long line, all but extinct. Suvira was ever aware of this, and it could have been this weakness that had opened her mind to Meier. In a time that seemed to be devoid of magic, he had risen like a beacon, blessed from birth with the hidden knowledge of the dark. Lovo thought of how the boy had died, never having taken the dark oath. Whether such a thing had ever happened, he could not say. He thought perhaps it had, millennia be
fore.

In a wave of sudden realization, Lovo felt an epiphany strike him like a bolt of lightning. He knew what Beol had been obsessively looking for in his last years. Whether he had ever found it was anyone’s guess. It didn’t matter anymore, but the signs all fit, tempered with the history Lovo had often been drawn to. Beol had been searching history for signs of his
kind.

In his day, it was believed that he had been the starting point, however ridiculous it might have sounded later. Of course, Lovo and a few others before him had known instinctively that the original assumption was foolish vanity. Despite this, the great majority of Beol Clan had still revered the founder of their house as the inventor of the dark arts. Thus, it was that Lovo and a few dissenters became something of a small order that held the belief, now satisfactorily proven with the coming of Meier, that the dark was as old as the night itself. Meier was the latest in a long chain, and suddenly Lovo unders
tood.

More than his search for those like him, Beol was looking for when the
next
one was likely to come. Ever a dabbler in prophecy, but never successively, Beol had quite possibly found the thing that had made him change his ways at the end. The coming of his successor was also the harbinger of his clan’s end. It was cruel poetry. Could Beol truly have known? Given his last words, it seemed likely. Lovo cursed a
gain.

He looked on still, but could not repress himself. The old ghost laughed at the irony of Meier’s advance. His only comfort was that the fall of his house would coincide with the destruction of Valahia and Karavunia. The thought brought him an unexpected satisfaction. After all, he was already a ghost. The only care he had regarding the living world was to watch it end. He looked severely at Suvira. Was it the end of
her?
He couldn’t be sure, but something told him that he was witnessing the penultimate step to her ruin. Being forced to watch it like a frozen moment in time was like a beast clawing at his ins
ides.

Another shocking thing dawned on him. It explained much. Seeing them together like they were gave him a cold shudder. She had also wanted him for something
else.
Despite the dark oath, such things could be made possible. So she had fallen victim to the pathetic sentiment of loneliness. It explained why she had not destroyed her father’s pitiful ghost. What madness, he thought, that she had considered restoring the line of Beol with
him!
It was a repulsive notion, of course, although Lovo had to admit that such a union would have produced greatness, if only for another generation. He laughed again at the vile comedy of it all. The house of Beol would have still have died regardless, giving rise to the house of M
eier.

He pushed these thoughts from his head. They were just too terrible. For now he would watch them, painful as it might have been. If the boy stepped from the light, the old ghost could still touch him. Lovo intended to make any contact he could manage into a fatal blow. So he waited. Then it happened. Meier and Suvira, still frozen in their shameful pose, began to sink into the ground, straight down. They were falling into the wellspring! Lovo sank to follow them. His head was filled with thoughts of disaster. Meier intended to destroy himself and Suvira both. He was sure of it. Clearly, Meier had reversed Suvira’s attempt to control his mind. If he had forced an impasse, then he must have come to the decision to destroy them both. So it was the end of Beol’s line after all. Meanwhile, deep within the realm of his mind, in that place of white light, Meier continued to comfort the ravager of his pe
ople.

“It’s all right, Suvira,” he said reassuringly. “I won’t hurt you.” Suvira looked at him hatefully, her cheeks still streaked with b
lack.

“Release me!
I
swear
I will kill you if it is the last thing I do!” she screamed at him but found that her voice was only a soft echo compared with
his.

“No, Suvira, you won’t,” he said calmly. “The source would stop you. It treasures you and I equally, as it does all things living.” Suvira laughed and thrashed around violently, pulling her hands free from Meier’s g
rasp.

“We’re
dead,
you fool!” she screamed frantically. Meier just sm
iled.

“I used to think so too. The source told me the truth about death. The dead aren’t able to stay in this world. You, me, your father
…
and your mother too. We’re all alive still
…
just not in the same way.” Suvira screamed again at the mention of her mother. Images were starting to rush into her mind. She did not believe them, nor did she want them. Together they sank thorugh the floor. The light in Meier’s tower faded for a moment but then came back as they reached the main hall. Suvira looked on the tower as Meier’s mind envisioned it, her eyes frantic with wild p
anic.

The eight doors had disappeared. The light flowed in from all sides, bathing the gleaming white stone in hues of glorious gold. Thrash as she did, Suvira could not escape the light. She looked down and saw herself falling into the wellspring. She was filled with immense and unbearable
pain.

“The pain is of your own making, Suvira. You feel what you expect to feel, based on what you know of the source. For now, we are guests in its light,” Meier said, trying to comfort her by taking her shoulders in his hands. Suvira wildly shrugged away from his touch, all the while wailing and throwing herself against the invisible wall that now held her fast in the source’s co
lumn.

“You!” she screamed at Meier. “You’re the one keeping me here! Release me
NOW
!” Meier si
ghed.

“Very well,” he said. “Although I wish you’d reconsider. A better life is waiting for you, Suvira.” Suvira answered his kind words with a hideous, ear-piercing shriek. As she reached out to crush his throat, she found herself suddenly standing in the main chamber as it truly was. It was once again the vile and cold place that she had k
nown.

Lovo’s eyes grew wide. His daughter was glowing. The glow darkened to black then changed to violet. He knew this spell. It was the same as the one that had exterminated his clan. She was in a complete frenzy, and her whole body was now a weapon. She bolted through the floor below, her mind filled with a singular, all-encompassing thought. She would kill her heart once and for
all.

Down into the depths she sank. In her hysteria, she lost all patience with the rate of her descent. With a violent convulsion, she began burning through the enchanted rock as though it were not there, not waiting for it to form around her. She reached the pool and fell into it, boiling the water with a tumultuous hiss as she did. She moved through frigid deep in a state of undiluted madness, darting in different directions desultorily, as though she had forgotten where she had just
been.

At last she came where Kuvali languished in her rack. Having seen her clearly for some time, Kuvali raised her head without surprise. There was a surge of madness that rose in her as well when she saw her daughter drenched in her murderous rampage. But something felt diffe
rent.

For the first time since it had all began, Kuvali felt her resolve win out against the insa
nity.

There can never be peace, in hate without cease,
she thought clearly, reaching Suvira’s addled mind. The words enraged
her.

Here in the deep, where madness does seep, I’ve wailed and I’ve wept, but one thing I kept
…
Suvira found herself momentarily paralyzed, even as she went to finish what she had set out t
o do.

Suvira, please hear, through torment and fear, just one thing I knew
…
I’ve always loved you.
Kuvali fought the urge to scream and writhe. Trembling from the strain, she closed her eyes and waited for the blow to come. Suvira screamed and cast her hatred forward. There was a blinding flash of light, so bright that even she could not bear to see it. Suvira covered her eyes with her arm. The spell had been stronger than she expected for its light to be so bright. Or so she tho
ught.

Suvira opened her eyes and moved her hand away. Before her was the impossible. But then Meier had become the prince of impossibility. He floated before her, smiling. Around his body was a golden aura, bright enough to illuminate the whole chamber, massive though it was. The frigid water around them was suddenly warmed by Meier’s arrival. As the aura dimmed to a glow, Meier smiled at Suvira a
gain.

Please, Suvira,
he thought, holding out his hand.
Don’t let it end this way.
Suvira could not bear it any longer. She went completely berserk. Kuvali winced in her frame. The wailing echoes were the same she had heard echoed for years beyond her ability to count, only now it was the daughter that made them in place of the mo
ther.

Suvira began bolting across the chamber, screaming madly with grief, smashing into things unshielded as she did. She seemed intent on destroying herself, putting every ounce of the source’s power to do it. Meier interv
ened.

He reached out before she could dash herself against the wall and, with a speed that could only be described as instantaneous, snatched her arm and held it tight. Meier pulled the frenzied Suvira close, and with a tight embrace, her body went slack. She was unconsc
ious.

Carrying her through the water, Meier came to Kuvali’s frame. With a gentle touch to the side of the rack, it fell to pieces, sinking to the cavern floor with a dull thud. This left a dumbfounded Kuvali to look at Meier with earnest scrutiny. She had long since begun to doubt her eyes but never so much as she did
then.

Don’t worry, Kuvali
…
I won’t hurt her. Will you come with me?
Meier thought warmly, extending her free hand. Kuvali found that she was smi
ling.

Durch Wasser und Feuer
…
du bist es, Meier?
Meier laughed out a few bubbles and grinned at
her.

I promise it’s me, don’t doubt what you see,
he thought, taking a moment to rhyme as she did. Kuvali found it to be most amusing, the first time she had felt such a thing in time beyond her memory. She took his hand, and it filled her with warm light. It felt like coming
home.

Together they rose, Meier keeping one arm around Suvira and the other hand in Kuvali’s. Soon they were in the main chamber again, where Lovo stood, his rotten mouth agape. Kuvali found her feet and coughed up the water in her lungs. Meier was still glowing, his hair flowing as though he were underwater still. He was completely dry. Still supporting the unconscious Suvira, he scooped her legs and laid her gently on the cold floor, putting her on her side to let the water drain. Lovo took his chance. He charged Meier, making a terrible rasp as he did. Meier held his arms out as if to greet him. Lovo got within a foot of his destination before Kuvali’s eyes flashed. Lovo fell to his knees, grunting as though he were being sque
ezed.