The Purifying Fire: A Planeswalker Novel (25 page)

In the hours, perhaps days, following her conspiratorial meeting with Gideon and the king, she thanked that
shred of humanity that allowed a cup and pail of water in Gideon’s cell.

She had ferried the blood back and forth and the the two had both drunk their portion. The king said the effect of the transmogrification would last indefinitely, but once he were killed, the effect would disappear. Putting their faith in the old man was risky, to say the least, but what other choice did they have?

Velrav had decided that he wanted Chandra present for the ritual. She assumed that was for no better reason than to enjoy her reaction to Gideon’s death.

She’d been passing the time unwillingly in her room, where she could remain unshackled, waiting. She didn’t think she had ever been this anxious. She went over all sorts of scenarios even when she had no idea what to expect. The image of the laughing king burned into her mind so that every time she closed her eyes, she saw him there, like a malevolent idol.

It was a relief when one of the nameless castle guards finally came to escort her to a wing of the castle she had never seen. He led her into an oval room without appointment save a long stone table at one end. The plane of the table slanted toward the middle of the oval at a sharp angle. Four straps were positioned at the corners, presumably to hold something, or somebody, in place. She was placed at the opposite end of the room and made to stand in a slight depression covered with a metal grate.

Her wrists and feet shackled, Chandra stood wondering what she was supposed to do as the guard went around the room lighting sconces. Next Gideon—she hoped it was the king—was escorted into the room by two guards. He was hunched slightly and his hair hung over his face; his naked torso, criss-crossed with wounds and mottled with bruises, was deathly pale. She hadn’t noticed some of the
wounds before.
Were the bruises new?
The guards picked him up, turned him upside down and strapped him to the table so that he faced up, his head pointing toward the floor. He offered no resistance. When his hair fell away from his face Chandra could see that he wore the stony expression, the impassive look she had come to know from him.

Chandra felt a little relief. At least they had gotten this far. But just then, another set of guards entered the room, carrying the king’s body into the room. What was Gideon doing here? Did Velrav know the truth? The guards placed Gideon equidistant between Chandra and the king, at the wall so that the three of them formed a triangle, and left the room. Chandra was worried by this latest development, but there was nothing she could do.

And in walked Velrav. As tense as she felt, Chandra had to keep herself from laughing. He was wearing a lush and obviously expensive cloak, but he also wore a long conical hat with a broad brim and chin strap. The effect, though doubtlessly intended to make him look imposing, made him look like a fool, a sad minstrel imitating the pomp of royalty.

Velrav turned to Chandra. “I believe you know my father, the king? Are you surprised? No, of course not. Could you believe that I wouldn’t know about your little clandestine visit? I thought I would let you visit your bounty hunter one last time.”

Chandra couldn’t respond. Her mind was racing. The whole situation was getting really annoying. Not a single thing had gone right since she got to this forsaken plane, and by now it was really going wrong. She could feel her skin begin to flush, all the familiar feelings of anger and frustration, but there was something missing. The bloom at the base of her skull, that power that she normally felt coursing down her spine and into her limbs wasn’t
there—but her blood was moving and that, at least, felt good.

“I brought him to bear witness to his only living son’s transformation.”

The old man began to laugh, that unmistakable laugh. Chandra balled her fists and clenched her jaw. Her mind raced uncontrollably. She tried to calm her mind down, tried to breathe, but she couldn’t do it. Everything she knew, everything she’d done, nothing mattered. She felt it all fall away from her as the rage took control.

“I’m sorry, Chandra. He knows,” said Gideon, from the table. “He came soon after you left and beat me within an inch of my life. With the body of the old man, I couldn’t do a thing to defend myself.”

The old man laughed still, rocking back and forth.

“Quiet, you old fool!” shouted Velrav as he pulled Gideon’s sural from beneath his cloak and whipped at him clumsily, but it did nothing to stop the laughing. If anything, it only served to make the king laugh harder.

The fire in the sconce burned more brightly as Velrav kept whipping his laughing father, and Chandra felt it. She felt the mountain inside her. She was the volcano.

Everything slowed down when she got this way. She felt like she was moving outside of time as the power bloomed in the base of her skull, as the fierce flower she’d been missing filled her head and her hair became a raging halo of fire. Her fists became torches, her feet lit with alchemical intensity. She spread her arms wide, her shackles a molten puddle on the floor beneath her as she began to levitate.

Velrav turned to look at her, his mouth agape. The king’s laugh raised to a fever pitch, his eyes gaining life as he reveled in Chandra’s inferno.

Boom!
Chandra brought her hands together in a thunderous clap as her feet returned to the floor, and a blade
of fire rose from her hands. She turned to her right, spinning and swinging the flaming blade in order to carry through with all her momentum. When she came full circle she struck the prince in the neck, cleaving his head and opposite shoulder from his body. The cauterized flesh smoldered as the body fell to the side and Velrav’s right arm and head landed in the laughing king’s lap. It did nothing to quiet him.

The king patted the face of his son, and moved the head to the floor. He stood and crossed to Chandra, who was beginning to register what she had just done. Her flaming sword still burning brightly, and the old man only stopped laughing when he grabbed the blade. His flesh sizzled and burned immediately, the hideous hissing sound of the water in his body boiling away. With amazing resolve he impaled himself on the blade, even as Chandra tried to pull it back, but her shock made her too slow. The flames died, but not before the king. His body slumped on top of his son’s.

Chandra turned to Gideon, who still lay upside-down on the table, blood coloring his once-pale face.

“Help me off,” he said.

She turned and went to him. “Can you feel it? Mana!”

“Yes, I can feel it.”

She wanted to revel in the flow of red mana that was suddenly
there
, had been there. She felt giddy, almost lightheaded. She undid the straps holding him to the table and helped him off it.

“Let’s leave. I’m sure I can planeswalk. Can you?” she asked him.

“I think I can, yes.” He was looking at her in astonishment. “Chandra, what was that?”

“It was a blade of fire. I’ve never done that before.”

“But how? I thought you were going to incinerate all of us. I’ve never seen anything like that.”

She thought about it for a moment, then laughed with pleasure. “I feel
strong.”
Her gaze wandered over his damaged, haggard appearance. “What about you?”

He looked down at his wounded, blood-streaked body. “I’ve been better.” Gideon’s eyes were wary, as though he was witnessing magic for the first time.

“We’ve got to get out of here, before someone comes, things are sure to be getting different out there,” she said.

“You’re right.” His face resumed the confident calm she knew. “We need to planeswalk.”

“Regatha?”

“I’m following you,” said Gideon as he went and gathered his weapon.

After several minutes of concentration they left Diraden.

They entered Regatha gently, landing on soft grass in a sunlit meadow.

Chandra lay on her back in the grass, looking up into the familiar sky. Gideon was stretched beside her. The sun came peeking through the lush trees at the edge of the meadow at an angle.

She touched his wounded, bloody chest. “Does it hurt very badly?”

His gaze dropped to her mouth. “Does what hurt?”

The trees overhead …

Chandra suddenly sat up.

Shoved aside, he lay looking up at her quizzically. “Is something wrong?”

“We’re in the Great Western Wood,” she said. “I’m, uh, not sure I should be here.”

He sat up, too, and looked around. “Ah.”

“We should go,” Chandra said.

And then she realized she wasn’t sure what to do with Gideon. She wanted to take him with her … but she thought it likely that the Keralians, though generally tolerant, would object to her bringing a mage with Gideon’s particular talent. Especially given how tense things were between Keral Keep and the Order.

Chandra stood up, looked around, and got her bearings … and then realized where she could take Gideon.

“A friend of mine lives near here,” she said. “We’ll go to his home.”

Samir would be distressed to see her in the forest, but she was confident he would nonetheless welcome them with sincere warmth and hospitality.

“This way,” she said to Gideon, leading him toward Samir’s nearby compound in the lush, green woodlands.

“Actually, Chandra, there’s something …”

His voice trailed off and they both stood still, listening intently.

Chandra heard the rustle of a bush, then the crackling of a twig underfoot.

“Someone’s coming,” she whispered unnecessarily.

Oufes rarely made that much noise when moving through the forest, but she felt tense until she saw who it was. When a lithe, familiar figure came out of the dense greenery a few moments later, Chandra relaxed.

“Samir!”

“Chandra!” He smiled and waved. “You’re
back?”
He looked around, as if fearing a hoard of angry oufes might instantly drop out of the trees and attack. “You shouldn’t be here!”

“I know,” she said. “And I’m leaving. But first—” Samir’s horrified gasp distracted her, as did the expression of shocked dismay on his face. “What
happened?”

“What? Oh.” She realized he was looking at Gideon. And as she glanced at her wounded, bloody, bearded, unwashed, unkempt, half-naked companion, Chandra realized that Samir’s reaction was understandable.

“Chandra!” Samir said sharply, coming closer as he gazed at Gideon with appalled concern. “What did you
do
to him?”

“I
didn’t do anything to him! It was … uh, never mind. Listen, Samir, I would appreciate it if—”

“Young man, you’re badly injured! You need healing!”

“It looks worse than it is,” Gideon said.

Samir blinked. “Wait a moment. Have we …” He frowned and studied Gideon’s face more closely. “I know you, don’t I?”

Chandra said, “No, he’s—”

“Yes!” Samir said. “Of course I do! It’s Gideon, isn’t it?”

Chandra froze.

“We met …” Samir’s face clouded with dawning realization. “We met at the Temple of Heliud.”

There was a tense silence as Chandra turned her stunned, appalled gaze on Gideon.

“Yes, that’s right,” Gideon said, his voice calm, his expression impassive. “I hope you’ve been well since then, Samir?”

Y
ou’re from Regatha?” Chandra said in blank shock. Gideon’s blue eyes met hers. She couldn’t read his expression.

“From Regatha?” Samir repeated, sounding puzzled. “Er, where else
would
he be from, Chandra?”

Her gaze flashed to Samir. She blinked stupidly at him, abruptly remembering that he didn’t know she was a planeswalker. Indeed, she doubted Samir had ever even
heard
of planeswalkers. And this was no time to start explaining the concept to him.

“I mean, you’re from
here?”
she said to Gideon, feeling dumbfounded. Why had he never said so?

“I’m from Zinara.” Gideon’s voice was clear and firm. There was a flicker of warning in his eyes, reminding her to guard her tongue until they had a chance to talk alone together. Then he turned to Samir and said, by way of explanation for Chandra’s puzzling remark, “As you can see, we’ve been through an ordeal. Chandra’s disoriented.”