The Curse in the Gift (The Last Whisper of the Gods Book 2) (50 page)

Myselene frowned. Gorton’s words, carefully chosen for more than her ears alone, contained an unspoken message. It was Azarak’s belief that either Sorial had failed or was going to fail and Alicia was not sufficiently skilled to offer protection. Even with Ariel in their custody, their wizards weren’t the enemy’s equal. The “secret offensive” was a magic attack. If it came, the expected results would be devastating. By ordering this evacuation, the king believed it to be a strong possibility that The Lord of Fire would soon be making his presence felt. No matter how the conventional battle progressed, if that happened, the army would be decimated and the city lost.

She could have refused the command, insisting that she would stay behind until the danger was undeniable. She could have demanded to see her husband so he could relay the message in person. But neither of those options would be fitting for a queen. Her duty was to her people and if Azarak’s assessment was that the city was in danger, it was her responsibility to shepherd into exile as many citizens as would leave.

“Inform His Majesty that I will heed his wisdom and obey his command.”

“I shall send that message to him but not deliver it personally. He asked me to help organize your evacuation and to remain with you as your advisor.”

Myselene was alarmed by this. If Azarak was sending his chancellor into exile with her, then it meant he believed the city’s future to be gravely uncertain. Yet she couldn’t allow fear or anxiety to paralyze her at such a critical juncture. “Let the order go forth to all who remain in Vantok: flee to Basingham.” She looked directly at Rexall, who had been pretending not to listen as he absorbed every word in the queen’s exchange with the chancellor: “Let everyone in the palace leave as previously agreed.”

And so it was that Rexall departed the queen’s guard to become a protector, guide, and perhaps executioner for an unconscious wizard and a former prelate. Somewhere deep inside, he offered a small prayer to the gods he knew could no longer hear it for the life of the man who had laid this commission on him.

* * *

Sorial re-emerged onto the plains, letting the dust and dirt fall away from his naked body as the ground closed seamlessly behind him. After discovering the djinn’s aptitude for manipulating earth, he had decided that an underground confrontation might not be advantageous. Too many things could go wrong, although facing the creature in the open was hardly less daunting. Nevertheless, Sorial’s mastery over his element was too uncertain; it was possible that the djinn might be able to find and expose a fatal weakness. Magic allowed him to pass through rock as if it was water. If that capability was stymied for even a fraction of a moment, he would be crushed to death. He had spent his entire life on the surface; his comfort level there was unmatched by the subterranean world, no matter how closely he might be attuned to it.

How to fight the creature was another matter altogether, although Sorial had an idea. It wasn’t a pleasant one; it would force him to endure a great deal of pain and the recognition of that made him inherently reluctant. His time spent with Langashin had elevated his agony threshold, but what he was contemplating... Still, there didn’t appear to be an alternative. He didn’t have the luxury of time to puzzle out some other way. The djinn was too strong to be defeated by “conventional” magical means, if there was such a thing. Throwing rocks at it would be pointless, as would be opening cavities beneath its feet. Other options that might prove fatal to humans would be equally ineffective. The djinn’s puissance demanded a unique approach but, while its command over all four elements made it a vexing and seemingly indomitable opponent, it also offered a clue to a potential weakness. The question was whether Sorial could live long enough to exploit it. He knew he couldn’t survive for a protracted period in a direct confrontation. Whatever he did, he would have to do it quickly or not at all. Now that flight had been eliminated as a viable course of action, it was attack or die, or perhaps both.

Sorial made ready, preparing himself mentally and physically. The djinn was fast approaching; he could sense its rapid ascent through the ground, sniffing Sorial’s trail like a hound. The first step was to slow it as it broke through the surface. He needed to be in close proximity, and that meant grounding it. If it became airborne as it had during their previous encounter, he was dead. He concentrated on the soil beneath his feet, changing its nature and consistency, making it viscous. There was nothing he could do to entomb the djinn; it was too attuned to earth for such an attempt to be effective. But he could still slow its forward momentum and gain the time he needed.

The rock wyrm lay in wait, ready to answer his summons. He would need its aid as well, more as a distraction than anything else. He hoped the action wouldn’t result in its death, but its life was pledged to his service. There was also the added danger that the djinn might be able to usurp his control over the wyrm.

The ground began to quake as the djinn neared the surface. Upon entering the zone Sorial had tampered with, it slowed as the thick quagmire sucked at it. Sorial focused his concentration on the ground beneath his feet, exposing the dirt and rock to a dizzyingly rapid series of consistency changes designed to make it more difficult for the djinn to adapt and escape. As he had recognized, however, it was only a delaying tactic. This strategy, which might have been enormously effective against a normal creature of fire, was useless against the djinn, which could easily repel such simplistic challenges. It didn’t need air to fuel its inner fire - earth or water would serve.

The surface split open with a loud crack and the flaming crown of the giant head appeared, encrusted with blackened soil. A geyser of molten earth accompanied the djinn’s arrival, mimicking the eruption of a volcano. Sorial didn’t hesitate and launched his feint of an assault immediately, tearing asunder the immediate terrain and pelting the djinn with every form of debris imaginable. Were there any humans present to witness the spectacle, they might have been awed, but the attack did no damage nor had Sorial expected it to. It was a distraction that allowed him to move closer to the flaming creature without his proximity being challenged.

It began to laugh - the unnervingly guttural noise that shook the land like distant thunder. Still more than a body’s length from the djinn as it wriggled free from the ground, Sorial shrunk from its blast furnace-like heat. He had been in forges before; this was hotter. By now, the djinn’s arms were free, allowing it to counterattack. It raised its hands high above its head and smote them together with a sound that would have rattled mountains had there been any in the vicinity. At the instance when Sorial was summoning the rock wyrm into action, there was a flash of light. Something radiating crimson as bright as the sun flared from the djinn’s clasped palms to strike the wizard’s left leg and the torment of the inferno engulfed Sorial.

The pain was crippling, but that wasn’t the reason Sorial lost his balance. With one leg turned to ash below the knee, he was unable to remain upright. Even as the wizard hit the ground hard, the rock wyrm broke through the surface somewhere to the left. By now, the djinn was either completely free of the earth, or nearly so, and was able to confront the new threat. It turned its attention away from the broken man, providing Sorial with what he needed: an opening.

Eyes watering from a combination of the agony and heat, Sorial struggled against the seduction of unconsciousness. The worst was yet to come; he was frightened of what would now be required of him - fearful not only of the pain but of the price this action would exact. He was only dimly aware of the struggle between the djinn and the rock wyrm, although the panicked and desperate screams of the latter told him all he needed to know about how the battle was progressing. Time was short. He had to act, to find the courage and the will to do this thing. An image of Alicia in this monster’s power was enough to rouse Sorial. Whatever the cost, he wouldn’t allow her to suffer in the djinn’s clutches.

Unable to stand, he clawed his way forward, hands scrabbling at the blasted surface, slithering like a snake on its belly. One of the djinn’s tree trunk-like legs was directly in front of him. The heat radiating from it seared his eyebrows and blistered his skin. He started to extend his right hand then snatched it back. Although pain clouded his mind, he retained sufficient clarity of thought to realize that, if he survived this, it was better to keep that hand. Instead, he shifted his position and stretched out the stump, reaching for the djinn’s leg. All he needed to do was touch it. Such a seemingly minor action with repercussions he knew would be devastating for him.

The moment of contact nearly killed Sorial. The living fire wreathing the djinn’s body leapt to the wizard’s arm, feasting greedily. Flesh, bone, blood, and muscle were consumed. It was as if Sorial’s arm melted away. The attendant torment was unbearable, an excruciating paroxysm of anguish that took root in the arm and blossomed throughout his body. Heat scorched his veins and exploded into his mind. For a moment, all thought was wiped away, including his purpose. Then, like a cool breeze in a blaze, he remembered. And acted.

Sorial’s concentration sheared through the pain. He divorced thought from body sufficiently to bring his power to bear, latching on the one aspect of familiarity within the djinn: earth. The creature could control the element because it was in part comprised of it, but Sorial was its ultimate master. With one command, he directed the earth to vacate the djinn immediately and unconditionally.

The result was instantaneous. Both Sorial and his opponent screamed at the same time - loud, ragged cries of unmitigated torment that reverberated through the ground and across the firmament. Now that his mind had snapped back into communion with his ruined body, his concentration broke and the pain overwhelmed Sorial, Blackness rushed in with such suddenness that he was unable to determine whether he had killed the djinn or merely crippled it. And, as oblivion stretched out its arms in greeting, Sorial knew he would welcome death as a relief from the anguish wracking every cell of his body. His last thoughts as he sunk into blackness were of Alicia and the hope that his suffering had spared her.

* * *

Killing was exhausting, emotionally and physically. Alicia was depleted - she hadn’t been this weary of body and mind since the trip to Ibitsal. She had been given latitude in choosing her targets; this had enabled her to save her father’s life twice. Azarak had known it and hadn’t objected. Carannan was one of his most loyal subjects, a man who had stood by him when others had deserted, and he was a stalwart fighter. The army was better with him than without him. But he was in a dangerous position on the front and Alicia didn’t know how many times she could come to his aid. The army couldn’t afford for her to act as his personal guardian much as she might have wanted to.

Over the past two hours, her attacks had decreased in frequency and intensity. She was taking longer rests to husband her resources in the event she was needed at a critical juncture. There was still no word from Sorial. Of course, if he had succeeded in his goal of keeping The Lord of Fire away from the battle, he might be out of contact for days. But that didn’t stop Alicia from seeking him, using her mind to probe rivers, streams, and especially underground waterways for any echo of his passage.

When it came, it was so forceful and obvious that she would have recognized it even if she hadn’t been paying attention. It was loud and ragged and raw, an expression of pain that permeated the earth and, in the process, seeped into the water. Alicia heard it clearly and, the moment it reached her magical senses, she knew it was Sorial and that he was very badly hurt.

The color drained from her already pale face and she would have fallen if not supported by one of the guards. Her vision swam and, for just an instant, she glimpsed the image of some monstrous red creature wreathed in flames, towering high in the air. Was that The Lord of Fire?

When she was again fully in her body, she noticed Azarak’s approach. “Sorial?”

“Yes.” She was surprised how little force her voice had. It was the whisper of a little girl. “He’s been injured. Seriously.”

“Is he…?”

“I think he’s still alive.” She didn’t know why she felt that way, but it was stronger than intuition. Maybe something to do with their shared magic. But what she had felt... he might not be dead but something terrible had happened. He might be
dying
.

“And The Lord of Fire?”

“I don’t know.” Her shoulders sagged. “It might be him. Or it might be something else. Nothing’s clear. All I know is that something happened to Sorial that hurt him so badly the earth broadcast his pain.”
He needs me
. But she couldn’t say that. Her duty lay here.

The king saw things differently. “Go to him. Save him if you can and bring him home. If The Lord of Fire doesn’t participate in this battle, we’ll win it with or without you. If he comes, I don’t think you’ll be enough to make the difference.”

The words were meant kindly but they stung. Alicia couldn’t disagree with him, though. What could she, an untrained novice, do against someone who had been studying and honing his craft since before her birth? It had never been intended for her to face Justin. If such a confrontation came to pass, Alicia had no doubt as to what the outcome would be. And if Justin had caught Sorial then it argued that evasion wasn’t an effective tactic.

Still, to leave in the midst of a battle - it felt wrong, like desertion. It was as if she was turning her back on a lost cause, giving up for dead all the brave men fighting below. Yet in the deepest reaches of her heart, she yearned to go to Sorial. Especially if he was still alive. Especially if her presence might mean something.