Schism: The Battle for Darracia (Book 1) (16 page)

All s
ound was muffled as the air took on an electric quality. Tulani’s skin prickled with sensitivity. All eyes turned to the angry, spitting volcano. There was nowhere to run, and they knew they were doomed. A hush fell over the Plain of Dawid. She saw Tree People watching from the Desa as they hung from their perches in the forest. Tulani’s voice rang out cutting through the tension of the room. She raised her hands to the heavens in supplication; she cried out for mercy. She stood on a small ledge, a halo of light surrounding her. Her red braids flared around her slim body as though they were a cloak. She saw the orb spinning before her hands, its mass growing until it spread over the entire Plain of Dawid, enveloping the population in a massive net of sparkling stars.

The
Quyroos stood frozen, their faces paralyzed in a combination of fear mixed with wonder. The fire suddenly died; the lava turned to gray ash; and the volcano went silent. A trail of black smoke snaked across the clearing sky as the two suns burned away the black clouds. The volcano grew dark, as if an engine had been switched off, and all eyes turned to the young girl who appeared to control both the volcano and the spinning orb. She held out her palms, and the orb retracted into a small ball and came to rest in the cup of her hands. It grew smaller and smaller until it disappeared. One by one, Quyroos dropped to their knees and bowed to the new high priestess.

Tulani looked at the mass of people on their knees,
their faces pressed to the red dirt as they waited for her to speak.

“
Good Quyroos…” Her voice carried to the farthest fields, and Bobbien smiled with pride. Tulani turned to her grandmother and asked, “What should I do?”

Bobbien bent her head with respect
. “Do what you must, child.”

“
I must save V’sair.”

“
Then ask for help.”

Tulani
turned to the people, who waited breathlessly for her to speak. “I am Tulani. I am Tulani!” she repeated. “I am Tulani, your high priestess, and I will lead you to freedom!”

A great cheer erupted, and four large male Quyroo
s climbed up the cliff and lifted her high over their heads to carry her into the frenzied crowd.

Chapter 28

V
’sair kept his back to the wall, his Fireblade close to his chest as he walked the corridors of the palace. Signs of the struggle were everywhere. Broken glass, bodies—results of the coup—littered each hallway. He turned a corner to find two guards patrolling, and raising his blade, he shouted as he moved in for the kill.

“
Nooooo!” The younger soldier feinted left, while the older one deftly knocked V’sair’s sword away, turning a deathblow into a minor gash.

“
Your Highness…Prince V’sair,” the Darracian panted as V’sair went after him with deadly force. “We are friends…” He barely could catch his breath.

“
We are with Swart’s forces,” the older guard shouted from floor, where he nursed the nick in his side. “Stop! We are here to help!”

Their word
s pierced the wall of anger, and V’sair slowed his attack. He paused and looked into the worried face of the young soldier, who now allowed his sword to slide to the floor. “Please come with us. We must act swiftly.”

V
’sair bent over to help the older soldier. “Apologies,” he murmured, as he gestured to the gash in the Darracian’s side.

“
Happens.” The man shrugged. “Let’s get you to Swart. He will be happy to see you.”

General Swart indeed look
ed happy when V’sair was ushered in. He dipped low and said reverently, “Highness.”

“
Do you know where my parents are?”

“
Captain Zayden and your father went to extract your mother from the throne room. One of my men reported that Vekin is making his way there as well. We’ve planned to mount an offensive to create a pincher, with the throne room in the center.”

V
’sair gripped his sword tightly, his face grim. “Let’s do it now!”

Chapter 29

Airboats started to rise, dotting the entire horizon with Quyroos—Bottom and Tree Dwellers alike—making unregistered flights to Syos. Nuen guards, outnumbered, were efficiently dispatched. Their bodies made a quick descent downward, their stalliuses now commanded by able-bodied Quyroos. Tulani stood in the first boat, her fist outstretched, her long red braids streaming around her, her eyes only on the castle in the clouds.

In the distance she saw a huge cruiser moving toward the same destination. The name was not visible, and she
did not know its intentions.

Chapter 30

Reminda stood defiantly as the first exchange of swords rang in the room. Staf backed away, letting Drakko take the offensive, cleverly parrying his thrusts, his steps quick. Drakko was aggressive, his borrowed
Fireblade red with angry intensity. The swords clashed, and Reminda realized that Drakko was furious, and Staf was letting that fury exhaust him. Drakko’s green eyes narrowed with anger, and he slashed at his brother, who responded with the skill of a practiced fighter. Drakko aggressively went after Staf, who ended up with his back against a low table. He jumped up, with Drakko following him, and they moved down the length of the banquet table, knocking candles and food to the floor. This was an even match between two of the very best fighters in Darracia. Reminda prayed to the Elements for her husband to be victorious. A hot breath fanned her neck, and she spun to find her sister-in-law so close that they were almost touching.

Staf slipped
near the end of the table, and Drakko moved in quickly for a fatal blow. Pacuto raced between them, raising his sword to prevent the king from killing his father. Zayden growled as he rushed forward to stop his cousin, revealing Hilde behind him.

“
Hilde!” Pacuto shouted, and attacked Zayden with vicious hatred. If Drakko and Staf’s fight looked like an elegant dance, Zayden and Pacuto’s swordplay looked like a rampage.

Everyone moved out of the way as the blades rang with a rapid staccato.

“You see, my boy…” Staf’s voice spat out the words. “He killed V’sair, and now he will kill your bastard.”

“
I will see you in hell!” Drakko’s face was flushed with exertion, and he was momentarily distracted by Hilde’s wild scream.

Pacuto had slashed Zayden and caught him in the face. Fluid dripped from his eye as he groaned
and dropped to one knee. Zayden was bent in half, one hand holding his torn face, his eye destroyed. Pacuto laughed and quickly moved forward to finish the job.

Hilde
rushed to Zayden, holding up her hand to stop her brother from delivering the final blow to her beloved. “Traitorous whore!” Pacuto screamed in outrage, and buried the blade in her chest.

W
hite with shock, Hilde sighed, her knees buckling as she slid off the end of the sword. Zayden snarled as he staggered to his feet; he went after Pacuto as if a machine were moving his arm. Pacuto fought, but he was no match for Zayden’s adrenaline-fueled rush of anger. He hacked Pacuto in the neck, and a gout of blood bathed them both so they looked as red as the Quyroos that began to fill the room.

Beatha screamed
, grabbing Reminda by the hair and twisting her head so that the queen shouted with pain. They rolled onto the floor in a swirl of fabric, their gowns entwined. Small fists pummeled the countess, who ripped at the queen’s head, tearing out tufts of hair.

V
’sair entered to see an arena of bloodbath and heard Tulani shout over the din, “V’sair!”

She
stood at the head of a mob of Quyroos that looked like a red tide of anger.

“You fool!” shouted Staf to his
dying son. “You said you killed him!”

“Perhaps,” V’sair called out to his uncle snidely, “he is not the warrior you think he is.”

With relief the king stared at his son, who stood with his sword raised for battle, a look of triumph on his lean face. A scream split the air as the queen and countess rolled toward the roaring fire wall in a deadly embrace. Beatha stood then dragged Reminda up and shoved her toward the raging inferno. As the queen fell backward, she looked at her son sadly.

Her small webbed hands grabbed Beatha
’s dress. The two women teetered for a moment as the countess’s hands feverously tried to untangle Reminda from her. Their balance shifted, and V’sair watched in shock as his mother tumbled into the white-hot flames.

“
Reminda!” the king shouted.

Staf
took advantage of this moment to sink his Fireblade to the hilt inside the king’s chest. “You are finished!” he shouted with triumph.

V
’sair saw his father go down, the sword deep in his chest. Fury rolled through him as he leaped into the fray, his face a feral snarl filled with burning rage to attack Staf. His uncle smiled, wiping the sword on his cape and expecting another quick victory.

Their blades sang with hatred, and V
’sair’s nimble feet soon made Staf fall backward in retreat. It was pandemonium—Quyroos cheering for the prince and the sounds of General Swart’s troops fighting with Staf Nuen’s men on the other side of the room. A fierce battle raged; finally freed from their defensive positions, the king’s men attacked together, attempting to squeeze out the Nuen rebellion. The halls were filled with heavy casualties.

Staf was surprised at his nephew
’s skill. He pressed forward, nicking him in the shoulder and unknowingly reopening the older wound. V’sair was tiring, but he refused to give in to his fatigue. He caught Staf’s blade at the hilt, locking them together, their faces so close that their breaths mingled.

“
I will kill you just as I destroyed your parents!” Staf spat.

“
I think not!” V’sair spun, taking Staf completely by surprise, the blade catching him above his hip. It went in smoothly and appeared on the other side of Staf’s back. He gasped as he staggered and slipped to the floor in a heap.

V
’sair stood back, breathing heavily, and walked unevenly to his father’s body. Tulani held a cloth to a bloody wound and shook her head slowly.

“
Sire…” He fell to his knees, exhausted and heartbroken.

“
You will make an excellent leader,” Drakko said in the barest whisper.

“
No, Dado.” He pressed his hand over Tulani’s, trying to stop the bleeding. “Tulani is a healer. She will help you.”

“
V’sair, it is over for me.” He coughed, his eyes mere slits. “You must finish what I have started. Where is Zayden? Is he…” He placed a weak hand over his son’s.

“
I am here, Father.” Zayden sat nearby, holding Hilde’s still body, his cheek pierced and his free hand cupped over his destroyed eye.

“
It is a rare privilege for a king to actually see…the next…You will be a great leader, my son, and I am proud of you both…” His voice trailed off, and his head rolled onto Tulani’s lap. She reached down and gently closed his eyes.

A commotion
erupted, followed by the wild screams of the masses of Quyroos in the room. A foot, small and webbed, followed by a blackened hand, reached out from the pit of the fireplace, seeking assistance. V’sair jumped up to pull his singed mother from the depths of the cavern.

“
Mo’mo.” He hugged her tightly. “You are whole!”

All eyes were on the tableau of the drama taking place in the center of the room. No one heard or recognized the chirp of an ancient communication devi
ce or the stealthy escape of Staf Nuen.

“
Yes, Beatha has broken her neck. I fell into the exhaust damper. It saved me. Oh, Drakko…” She left her son to fall to her knees next to her husband.

V
’sair saw Zayden; he bent down, gripped his brother’s elbow, and tried to help him stand. “I will get you help,” he said.

“
I will kill Staf Nuen!” Zayden exclaimed.

“
It’s too late.” V’sair crouched down to look at his brother’s face. “Our uncle is dead.”