The Destroyer Book 4 (72 page)

I stood at the bottom of her pyre. The flames had consumed her and they swirled toward the heavens like the tower of a Radicle. The endless wave of O’Baarni closed in around me like a rising tide. Despite my power and the rage I yearned to unleash upon them, I knew I could not stand against them all.

I stepped into the fire.

The wood was charcoal now. It snapped and popped beneath my bare feet. My skin burned and bubbled. The pain seared against my anger and danced in my brain until the world was only red and orange and vermillion and gold.

The O’Baarni stopped at the foot of the pyre. Thousands of eyes looked up at me in a mixture of horror, disbelief, and disappointment. Each of them sought the glory of being the one to end me. I would take this from them with the very fire they intended for me all along.

Then the pain stopped.

I was still awash in flame. I was still covered in the ash of my burning skin, but the flames and the heat were not damaging me. The heat was power. The heat was energy.

I drank it in and the magic surged inside of me like a torrent of lightning. My brain spun across the world, into the stars, as it had when I pulled the life from the dragon. The understanding of the world crashed into me and I knew the life and the power of every living entity on this planet. I felt them connect with the Elements and channel through the Radicles. I saw the Radicles forging roads to other worlds with infinitely more and varied life. The creation of my universe was beautiful. I almost stopped my rampage to stare and gasp in wonder at what I had made.

But I still wanted revenge.

The Fire emerged from my hands like a sticky purple tidal wave of death. It flooded the arena on all sides of the pyre and thousands of O’Baarni and humans instantly burst into a wet flame as if they were walking wax fire starters.

Iolarathe’s body was gone; it was now part of the charcoal upon which I stood. Even the cross they had bound her to was twisted and bent against the colossal heat. My love was dead and with her went any chance to find our daughter. My old friends had taken everything for me.

I turned my attention back to the thousands of fleeing O’Baarni and set another group of a hundred ablaze with my limitless anger. The fire I stood upon was almost expired now. I had pulled all of its life and energy into me. My power would not fade until every last one of them was destroyed.

I stepped from the mountain of charcoal to continue my revenge.

The ground was awash in lava but I walked through it. The Fire knew I was its master. I was beyond the simple pains of the flesh now. The stadium was empty now. Thayer jumped toward me once I reached the arch marking the exit. My friend with the scarred nose was as quick as usual, but his sword stopped against my skull shield with a symphonic screech that seemed to echo across the entire city. I did not remember picking up my shield, but the heavy piece of metal glowed the same purple and green color as the Fire that dripped from my skin like sweat.

My mace was in my hand now as well and I swung the devastating weapon at my friend’s shaved head. He attempted to dodge it but it seemed as if he moved through molasses and the mace connected with his shoulder. Dozens of bones shattered and his torso buckled beneath the attack. My leg instantly kicked forward and the ball of my foot slammed into his chest. More of his ribs shattered and the man who had once been my dearest friend tumbled away from me like a cast pebble. A stone building a hundred yards away broke his uncontrolled roll and the structure shattered like ice and then crumbled around his dead body.

Gorbanni led twenty of his armored warriors against me. They carried spears and shields decorated with various ram effigies. I considered destroying them with another wave of Fire but I wanted the satisfaction of feeling each of their bodies break under my mace. I sprinted toward them and leapt into the air right before I reached their spear range.

My armored body landed at the edge of the squad and two of the warriors’ ram-helmeted heads imploded with a single swing of my mace. Before the rest could turn around, three more were dead and I stood upon their twitching corpses.

Spears were wonderful weapons for large scale warfare or open spaces, but Gorbanni’s warriors had not expected me to get closer than lance length to them. By the time the remainder of the squad turned around and realized they needed to grab for their swords the city street was awash with gallons of blood and the dead at my feet numbered sixteen.

I swung my mace a few more times and only Gorbanni was left standing before me. He blocked my first strike with his shield and I felt his muscular arm break beneath the blow. He grunted in annoyance, but the pain didn’t stop him from slashing at my legs with his heavy cavalry sword. My shield deflected this blow easily and it felt almost as if a child was attacking me.

I heard arrows twang against bow strings and I swung my shield behind me to block the volley of missiles Alexia and her warriors intended for my back. The arrows bounced off of my screaming death shield like angry rain. Half of her archers died when the rooftop they crouched upon burst into a giant ball of purple and green flame.

Gorbanni may have believed that I forgot about him, but I spun away from the vertical strike he aimed at my exposed back, and then I smashed my mace into his spine. The blond man bent backward like a wet rag and every single disc in his back exploded. He managed to gasp out a scream, but I did not care about his pain. He had killed Iolarathe and now the horseman was going to pay.

I raised my mace and was about to bring it down on his helmet, but Malek stepped from the corner of the building I had just set on fire. He was with ten of his warriors and they raised their hands toward me in unison. I thought about diving out of the way, but I realized it would not matter. Nothing would stop me. I would kill all of them.

Especially Malek.

Then Alexia.

Then Gorbanni.

Then I would finish what I started with Shlara.

Their magic swirled around me in a rainbow of oranges and reds. It should have burned me, but I pulled the power from it and felt my blood boil and surge with strength. Malek’s soldiers then tasted my own purple Fire as it consumed their souls.

“You destroyed everything, Kaiyer!” Malek screamed at me. My armored hand closed around his throat and his next words were lost. I thought about ripping the Water out of his body, but I wanted to see him struggle for air while I squeezed the last bits of life from him. His hands pried at my gauntlet and he reached for his dagger. The blade stabbed impotently at the screaming skulls etched into my armor.

Alexia fell upon my arm from above with her sword cleaving downward. My focus on Malek should have cost me the limb, but again I was saved by my armor. The blade could not penetrate the skull-encrusted plates, but the impact of her blow numbed my arm for a second and Malek twisted out of my grip and sprinted away while Alexia spun her twin swords at me.

She was an amazing swordswoman and wielded her trademarked set of blades with a ruthless efficiency. She was a chaotic fighter and often faded in and out of melee range with an acrobatic flip of her body. Though we had not sparred together often, I could anticipate her moves.

Her swords aimed both high on my shoulder and then low toward my groin. My shield was large enough to deflect both, and then my mace swung around to smash her hip into liquid. She spun back away from me and flipped up into a handstand on her left hand. The blonde woman flicked her right fingers and my shield slid in front of my face to block the four darts that she had perfectly aimed at the eye holes in my screaming skull armor.

She bounced to her feet and I feinted a mace strike. She was too far out of range anyway but she took the bait and raised both of her swords to parry the attack. My right leg swept from her flank and my shin made contact with the side of her left knee. The joint there broke and she tumbled to the ground.

Thayer had clawed his way from the ruins of the building under which I had buried him and emerged from the dead with a scream of rage and a deadly swing of his blade aimed at me. My right arm almost broke when I caught the blow and my boots slid back across the smooth stones of the roadway.

His mouth was covered in foam and his tunic with blood and ash. His sword strikes came in a frantic volley of attacks that I could do little more than block, and he succeeded in positioning himself in front of Alexia.

Thayer could not keep up his frenzy for long. He was strong, and he was fast, but I knew his magic would not allow him to recover quickly enough from the stress he was causing himself with his rage and speed. I could not reach past him to finish Alexia, and he protected her just long enough for her leg to heal. She rose and both of them came at me, their swords and eyes hungry for vengeance.

Their blades simultaneously sought holes in my defense, but there were none. What my shield could not block, my weapon parried. What my mace could not deflect scraped harmlessly off of my screaming demon armor. After half a minute of frenzied attacks, their blades had done nothing but sing their song of disappointment.

Thayer had exhausted himself. He had not kept up the robust training regimen and discipline that he had during the war. His swings left his flank exposed. I slammed my mace into his ribs. He smiled as soon as I took the bait and dropped his weapon to grab my elbow. My left arm was tied up by his body and Alexia threw herself onto my shield.

Malek jumped down from the roof of a burning building, aiming the point of a lance at my face. I let go of my shield and flipped over Thayer’s back before Malek’s spear could hit. I lifted the bald man over my shoulders and bent my body backward to smash his bare head into the cobblestone street. His skull cracked with his spine and shoulders. He released his grip on my arms as his body went limp.

Malek screamed something at me and then thrust his spear at the right side of my stomach. My armored hand deflected it slightly, but his aim was true and the point of the weapon slammed into the left side of my muscles. The armor held against the point, but the handsome man’s thrust was strong and I felt a few of my ribs crack from the impact.

They healed before he could manage another strike.

My mace swung out and Malek’s right arm shattered like glass. I kicked at Alexia. The woman rolled away from the attack, but she left my shield behind. I slammed my foot on the edge of the heavy piece of metal when I brought my leg back. It sprung off the stone tiles of the street and my hand grasped the leather straps to secure it back into the bulwark’s rightful place on my right side.

I felt the power from Gorbanni’s magic cascade down the street. It washed over me like a warm bath and the flames obscured my vision for a few seconds. I jumped away from the heat and realized that it had given Alexia a chance to grab Thayer and sprint away from me.

Purple Fire danced down the path of cobblestones and melted the bricks of the homes and structures near us into a greenish soup. Alexia bore the muscular bald man on her back and she slid around a corner, carrying her burden away before my magic could rip the life from both of them.

Shlara’s Rest was burning green, orange, and purple now. Smoke filled the air like a noxious blanket and the city echoed with the screams of its inhabitants trying to flee from the ravenous spread of my flames. I had killed tens of thousands of humans and O’Baarni, but I did not care. I wanted them all to feel my anguish over Iolarathe’s death. They should have just let us go. Malek should have just given us the Ovule and let us leave this world.

The Ovule.

My anger suddenly stuck in my chest like a block of ice. I did not need to kill them. It would change nothing. My daughter was trapped and I needed to find an Ovule and save her, not waste time with futile revenge.

Malek shoved his spear at me and I knocked it aside with my shield, let my mace slide from my hand, and then slammed my armored head into his skull. The blow knocked him backward and I yanked the spear from his unconscious hands. Then I spun on my back foot and threw the weapon toward Gorbanni. It skewered him in the stomach before he could twist away and he collapsed back on the burning street with a yelp of pain.

I flipped the mace back into my hand, scanned the rooftops for signs of Thayer or Alexia, and then set off running through the torched streets. My mind was clear now and I regretted the moments of insanity that had cost so many innocent lives. All that mattered now was doing what Iolarathe could not.

I headed toward Malek’s estate.