fascinating.
Around the baby’s neck, the pendant thrummed.
•
Spells and defences crashed against each other, and in the middle of the interlacing forces lay the child. If she could just get him into her arms, Elessa could retreat towards the approaching reinforcements.
She tried to levitate him towards her, but instantly Fazel shot out an opposing pull. She’d been prepared for a tug of war, but her grip on the child felt surprisingly insubstantial. She poured power into the effort, but it seemed to disappear as it met the child – as if the undead abomination was somehow managing to nullify it. Yet she seemed to be thwarting him somehow, for while she couldn’t get a hold on the boy, Fazel seemed not to have one either.
•
About the child’s neck, the colours of the pendant flashed excitedly. He shifted in discomfort.
•
Fazel sent another blanketing wrap over the boy and again felt it vanish from his control. He could not establish even the weakest fleeting hold! Never in all his years had he met with magic such as this. What was the girl doing? If she’d erected some kind of shield around the babe, he should have been able to sense it. How was she draining away his power?
Hope flared within him. Elessa had found a way of negating him, and because he genuinely could not think of anything to counter it, he could continue struggling to grasp the child without breaking the rules of servitude. He increased his efforts to strengthen his grip, hoping it was part of her plan.
The child opened his mouth and screamed, cutting through the storm with pure terror.
‘Let him go!’ Elessa shouted.
The screaming grew louder.
•
The child thrashed in the mud, his limbs twisting as if in the throes of a violent seizure. His scream rose and fell with the wind, continuous and seemingly without need of breath. Then, with a final gasp, his back arched and his muscles went taut and stiff. When his eyes opened, agony and fear danced through them hand in hand. About his neck, the Stone shone strangely in the grey light of evening.
Great pressures imploded inside the child, forming two sinkholes of terrible force. Both wrenched at him with equal strength, at his body, his mind . . . at his soul. Both pulled at him from within. His component parts strained in their places and began to come loose, his very being ripped to pieces. Some parts went into the dark sinkhole, others took off into the bright light. Through the madness, his tortured mind wailed with thick, distorted horror as it came apart at the seams. Then suddenly, mercifully, his consciousness shattered and he was gone.
•
A shock wave of power erupted outwards, jolting Elessa and Fazel backwards, jarring their teeth and fizzing in their sinuses. It was a power neither recognised, and it had little regard for their defences. An object shot out of it – the Stone – and sizzled away to land somewhere outside the clearing. Then, as the white noise ringing in their ears subsided, they heard the sound of crying.
It had two voices.
In a smoking crater blasted free of puddles, the ground spitting with residual charge, they lay together, side by side, wailing to the sky.
Two boys with blue hair.
Four / Fire and Lightning
Four
Fire and Lightning
Fire and Lightning
From the trees above, she watched it all, a great rage burning inside her. This had never been her purpose in giving the Stone to Mirrow! It had been supposed to serve her people, many years from now, as a weapon. Instead, it had ripped the boy apart, just as Assedrynn and Arkus had ripped apart the souls in the Great Well. And those two, curse them, were openly interfering. This place was her sanctuary – they had no right! Yet they were strong, as they had always been, and they ruled the skies above. Clouds were sent to cover the moon; lightning flashed down to light up the world. She had done what she could against them, but it hadn’t been enough. The spirit wind she had sent after the
Around the baby’s neck, the pendant thrummed.
•
Spells and defences crashed against each other, and in the middle of the interlacing forces lay the child. If she could just get him into her arms, Elessa could retreat towards the approaching reinforcements.
She tried to levitate him towards her, but instantly Fazel shot out an opposing pull. She’d been prepared for a tug of war, but her grip on the child felt surprisingly insubstantial. She poured power into the effort, but it seemed to disappear as it met the child – as if the undead abomination was somehow managing to nullify it. Yet she seemed to be thwarting him somehow, for while she couldn’t get a hold on the boy, Fazel seemed not to have one either.
•
About the child’s neck, the colours of the pendant flashed excitedly. He shifted in discomfort.
•
Fazel sent another blanketing wrap over the boy and again felt it vanish from his control. He could not establish even the weakest fleeting hold! Never in all his years had he met with magic such as this. What was the girl doing? If she’d erected some kind of shield around the babe, he should have been able to sense it. How was she draining away his power?
Hope flared within him. Elessa had found a way of negating him, and because he genuinely could not think of anything to counter it, he could continue struggling to grasp the child without breaking the rules of servitude. He increased his efforts to strengthen his grip, hoping it was part of her plan.
The child opened his mouth and screamed, cutting through the storm with pure terror.
‘Let him go!’ Elessa shouted.
The screaming grew louder.
•
The child thrashed in the mud, his limbs twisting as if in the throes of a violent seizure. His scream rose and fell with the wind, continuous and seemingly without need of breath. Then, with a final gasp, his back arched and his muscles went taut and stiff. When his eyes opened, agony and fear danced through them hand in hand. About his neck, the Stone shone strangely in the grey light of evening.
Great pressures imploded inside the child, forming two sinkholes of terrible force. Both wrenched at him with equal strength, at his body, his mind . . . at his soul. Both pulled at him from within. His component parts strained in their places and began to come loose, his very being ripped to pieces. Some parts went into the dark sinkhole, others took off into the bright light. Through the madness, his tortured mind wailed with thick, distorted horror as it came apart at the seams. Then suddenly, mercifully, his consciousness shattered and he was gone.
•
A shock wave of power erupted outwards, jolting Elessa and Fazel backwards, jarring their teeth and fizzing in their sinuses. It was a power neither recognised, and it had little regard for their defences. An object shot out of it – the Stone – and sizzled away to land somewhere outside the clearing. Then, as the white noise ringing in their ears subsided, they heard the sound of crying.
It had two voices.
In a smoking crater blasted free of puddles, the ground spitting with residual charge, they lay together, side by side, wailing to the sky.
Two boys with blue hair.
Four / Fire and Lightning
Four
Fire and Lightning
Fire and Lightning
From the trees above, she watched it all, a great rage burning inside her. This had never been her purpose in giving the Stone to Mirrow! It had been supposed to serve her people, many years from now, as a weapon. Instead, it had ripped the boy apart, just as Assedrynn and Arkus had ripped apart the souls in the Great Well. And those two, curse them, were openly interfering. This place was her sanctuary – they had no right! Yet they were strong, as they had always been, and they ruled the skies above. Clouds were sent to cover the moon; lightning flashed down to light up the world. She had done what she could against them, but it hadn’t been enough. The spirit wind she had sent after the
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