The Tears of Elios (35 page)

From the sky, she watched the human run through the camp toward the ritual.
She wants to declare her love for Galen once more, no doubt
. Ranealya was about to dismiss her when she remembered Galen asking her to take care of his wife. She doubted Kira saw the Elgean soldier hiding behind a boulder, waiting to ambush her.

With a groan, she diverted her course.

She flew behind the soldier and landed on him just as Kira rounded the corner. His bones made a satisfying crunch under her claws, and his blood splattered hillside.

Kira screamed and ran away.

Ranealya changed into her natural form and pursued her. Kira made only a slight change in her course, and she caught her as she neared the circle. “What are you doing, Kira?” she asked as she tackled her.

“Let me go, Ranealya!” The little human put up more of a fight than she thought her capable of. “Something bad is going to happen.”

The ritual was already in progress, but nothing had come from it so far. She recognized the faces of the casters from the meeting she interrupted: Galen, Thoranus, and Elisus representing the elves; Lohman and Fergan from the humans; the dwarf, Orin, and finally, Mab’s personal troublemaker, Fairlin. All seven held one of the Tears of Elios in their hands and concentrated their magic into the orbs.

Kira screamed and pointed ahead. Elisus had broken free from the circle, taking one orb with him.

Ranealya launched an attack before he could turn and see them. As she flew through the air, she changed into a lioness and knocked him to the ground. Elisus raised his hands to protect himself, but he was too slow. With lethal speed, she raked one of her paws down his face, shredding his skin and pulling out his left eye. She felt no pity for him as he cried out in agony. She prepared to deliver the death blow, but Kira distracted her by running after the orb.

Elisus saw his chance to escape and shoved the lioness off his chest. He dissipated before she had a chance to pounce on him again.

Kira shrieked in pain as soon as she touched the Tear of Elios. Galen apparently hadn’t warned her to avoid doing something so foolish. Her skin blistered as she dropped it.

Ranealya changed back into her normal form, still disappointed over her missed opportunity to kill Elisus. She slashed one of her hands as she approached Kira and squeezed her blood over the injured palms.

“We need to get the orb back into the ritual,” Kira begged as tears streamed down her face. “Can't you see it's killing the casters?”

Ranealya looked over her shoulder. Fergan fell to his knees, and Lohman looked like he would be next. The other casters appeared pale and drawn, as if the ritual was consuming the very essence of their lives. “I'm not a mage.”

“But I am.” Kira's wounds healed as the blood dripped over the sides of her palms. “If you can carry the orb, I'll cast.”

She looked back once more and saw Galen's eyelids grow heavy.
Would all this be for naught? Would the ritual fail because I refused to help?

Her hands balled into fists.
No, not as long as I still breathe
. She grabbed the orb in one hand and Kira in the other. “I'll do it.”

A jolt raced up her arm when she inserted the orb into the circle. Kira stepped in between her and Galen and began casting with her fingers an inch above it. The blue and green lights in the circle glowed brighter, and the new influx of magic revived the other six casters, one by one.

Ranealya heard the distant rumble of thunder, followed by the earth trembling under her feet. Across the circle, Fergan smiled. Bolstered by her success, Kira touched the Tear of Elios with her fingertips, and another wave a magic surged through the circle. The tremors increased in intensity.

It was working
.

She turned to Kira, but the little human’s attentions were elsewhere. She watched the exchange of glances between Kira and Galen and began to understand the extent of their love for one another. He reached his hand out to her, and when she took it, the entire circle began to pulsate.

The ground then erupted. Stones pierced the surface of the earth and climbed towards the sky. She flinched as mountains rose from the cracks. The other members of the circle remained focused on the orbs in front of them. She seemed to be the only one aware of what was happening. The circle began to sink as the earth's crust continued to be thrust upward around them.

Then a shock-like sensation ran through her body. It grew stronger until the pain caused her vision to blur. It reminded her of when she was transformed into a shape-shifter over three hundred years ago. She sank to her knees as Kira took the Tear of Elios from her hands.

A green light surrounded her. The fur retracted from her arms, leaving smooth ivory skin behind. Her hair grew rapidly, forming a pale golden cloak over her shoulders. She was being turned back into Nyelle, but not by choice. Something else forced her shift.

The next thing she knew, she was being hurled backwards through the air. As soon as she cleared the circle, a dome of magic enclosed it and hid the casters from view. The words of Elios echoed in her mind once more before her head smashed against a hard surface, and everything went black.

CHAPTER 27

The ground started shaking under Gregor. He straightened, wondering if he had imagined it all.

The Resistance Army ran toward the gate on full retreat, and for a second, he attributed the increasing vibrations beneath his feet to their stampede. But waves grew stronger, more violent, even as the soldiers passed him.

His heart pounded as crags of granite exploded from the surface, rising up to form mountains. Behind him, the arch collapsed, showering a cascade of boulders around him and leaving him stranded.

A wall of water rose up to meet him. He turned and ran in the opposite direction, scrambling over rocks and trying to get to higher ground.
This isn’t good
. He silently asked Mariliel to save him before he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Looking back, he wondered if the goddess heard his prayers. The rock he stood on thrust up with such momentum that he fell on his hands and knees. The surge of water roared past him, but he had been carried out of its reach. The rock jerked to a stop and tilted forward. He stared at the raging river below and started falling towards it. His stomach churned, and he braced himself once again. It was times like this when he wished he was a better swimmer.

The side of the rock collided with the opposite side of the canyon wall, and Gregor tumbled to safety. The earthquake subsided, and he took a moment to allow his pounding heart to slow. When he replaced his glasses, he scanned the landscape and tried to find his bearings.

Ahead of him was the hill the casters stood on, the only thing that remained unchanged. The ritual seemed to be working well. The newborn mountains had swallowed the camp, and the course of the river had been altered. He could no longer see the Elgean Army to the east.

Gregor squinted and watched Ranealya fall to her knees. A strange green magic enveloped her, obscuring her from his sight. He jumped to his feet and ran to the edge of the canyon that separated them.

This couldn’t be the way Elios planned to kill her!

***

Anilayus withdrew his sword from Jaius. “Finish them,” he said to the Azekborn. “I have a shape-shifter to catch.” Then he vanished.

Jaius tried to lift his head and draw Seron's attention. His chest gurgled, and blackness threatened to consume him. When he attempted to speak, blood filled his mouth and overflowed from his lips. He collapsed and offered a prayer for Elios to end his suffering as he closed his eyes.

If his ear hadn’t been pressed against the ground, he would’ve missed the first rumblings. He opened one eye to see the earth ripple and roll toward him like a tidal wave. The force launched him into the air on impact, and the sickening crunch of his own bones shattering filled his ears when he landed.

“Sound the retreat,” Seron shouted in the distance as the ground split and crumbled under them. “Paleah, get us out of here!”

“What about Jaius?”

“He’s already dead,” Seron replied flatly.

No, I'm still alive!
But his broken body refused to move, and his lungs burned for air. His vision blurred as he watched Paleah and Seron teleport to safety.

Around him, the earth shifted, and new peaks burst through the crust like arrows released from a bow. His breathing slowed. He found solace in knowing the ritual was working and waited for the embrace of death.

“Nice of your kind to leave you here,” a rough voice said at his side.

He looked up at the Highmounter and mouthed, “Thank you.”

“You can thank me later if we survive this mess.” Arlisle tossed him over his shoulder. “Let's go!”

He clung to the burly human as he raced down the newly formed mountain. This kind of compassion stunned him.
Why would a human risk his life to save me when the other generals had left me for dead?

Arlisle jerked to a stop, and pain rolled through Jaius' body. “Can you swim, pointy ear?”

Before he had a chance to understand the question, a wall of water swept over them and pulled them under. Arlisle held on to him, and they broke through the surface together, gasping for air. The river roared through the canyon, carrying them downstream at speeds faster than any runner. Even with all his strength, the human couldn’t fight the surge, so they rode the rapids and hoped to avoid a fatal collision with any bolder in their way.

After a few minutes, the current slowed, allowing Arlisle the opportunity to grab a tree branch and pull them to dry land. Jaius grunted as he was flung on the shore, surprised his heart still beat after everything he endured in the last hour.

A soothing warmth filled his chest wound, and his pain waned. He looked up to see tendrils of white magic flowing from Arlisle’s hand. “You have the gift?” he whispered.

“Aye, weak though it may be.” He sighed and leaned back. “I can't heal you completely, but this should keep you from bleeding out on me until I find someone with better talents.”

Jaius lay still, relieved to be able to breathe without tasting blood. He savored the experience of the air moving in and out of his lungs. “I am indebted to you, Arlisle.”

The Highmounter laughed. “I'll remember that.” He shook his head, splattering the water from his hair like a wet dog. “So, what do you think we should call these new mountains?”

***

Gregor gathered his strength and prepared to teleport. He’d never successfully done it before, but Thoranus had taught him the principles. It was the only way to cross the chasm and get to Ranelya. He pictured himself by her side and felt his body began to disappear. An odd weightless feeling followed, ending with a tugging heaviness in this body as he reappeared next to her.

He gathered her in his arms. Her wounds were already healing, and he stroked her face. She was in her elvan form, almost too beautiful to be real. He bent down to shield her from some of the falling debris, kissing her lips in the process.

When her eyes fluttered open, they were a calm gold. “Am I dead?” she whispered.

“Not yet,” he replied, helping her to her feet, “although if we don't get away from here, we may end up that way.”

Boulders toppled around them, and the ground rolled like waves in the sea. He held her close to him, steadying her as they inched closer to a safer location. The mountains continued to climb around them, their pinnacles concealed by the clouds. The casters’ circle had disappeared below them. He wondered if it had been crushed by the rocks, but another lurch in the ground told him the ritual was still working.

He turned to Ranealya and grew worried. Her eyes were clouded as if she had been drugged. He hoped it was only due to blow to her head.

Then her body stiffened, followed by a gasp. Her gaze lowered, and when he followed it down, he saw a metal point sticking out of her gut.

All the air was pulled from his lungs, and the world felt like it was moving in slow motion. The sword was withdrawn. He fell to one knee under her weight, calling out her name. Then he looked up and saw Anilayus towering over them, his blade dripping with fresh blood.

“So I was right,” he sneered. “She was a shape-shifter.”

Gregor reached down to try and heal her, but he ended up dodging the razor edge of his cousin’s sword instead. The next swing of the sword sent him on the retreat, pushing him away from Ranealya.

“I cannot believe a member of my family would betray me,” Anilayus continued, slicing the air with every other word. “But then, this isn't the first time you’ve defied me.” He paused as his lips curled into a menacing grin. “There will be no mercy now.”

As he was forced further and further away from Ranealya, Gregor watched the blood pooling around her body. He channeled his anger into his magic and felt the intense power waiting at his fingertips. “You're going to regret the day you hurt her.”

He unleashed the magic and began casting with a speed that surprised him, but Anilayus was quicker. The King managed to dodge or block Gregor's spells, all the while chasing him with the sword. At last, Gregor managed to get a spell past his defenses, and the blade skidded to the edge of the cliff.

With his weapon gone, Anilayus began casting, too. The two men became locked in battle with blue and red lightning bolts electrifying the air between them. When Gregor witnessed him “blink” like a demon, he finally understood the lengths Anilayus would go to gain power. His gut rolled, and revulsion pulsed through him.

A blast of red struck Gregor, pinning him to the ground. He tried to move his arms, but each twitch of his muscles sent agonizing waves of pain through his body.

Anilayus retrieved his weapon and sauntered to him. His boots crunched over the gravel and stopped inches from his ears. “I'm going to enjoy killing you even more than I did your little shape-shifter, cousin.”