coursed up her abdomen. Despite her magically stemming the blood loss, the wound still needed to be attended to and Elessa knew that time was running out. She thought of Kessum, and the shining heart flower, and how she had planned to send him one in return when she got back to the Halls. And so she would! She would not die tonight!
At her feet the babies bawled. She hadn’t believed her eyes upon seeing the pair of them, but there wasn’t time to think on it now. Her opponent still faced her, and his body mended itself, whereas hers would not survive another of his spells. Miserably she felt her power failing, felt his darkness penetrating her defences in many places. She pushed it back, but it was like pushing back a glacier. Slowly and surely, it came. Death came.
And then . . .
•
Tyrellan crept to the tree line. The blade had taken longer to kill than he’d anticipated and he had no idea of what had occurred between Fazel and the Varenkai bitch in the meantime. He was vexed to see that Fazel had not disposed of her yet, but it didn’t look like long now. She was hunched over, no doubt due to the dagger wound, and her outstretched arms shook with effort. Fazel, however, looked just as he usually did, and Tyrellan could see his dark magic creeping towards the girl, snuffing out her light as it went.
Just one final light to snuff out, he thought.
And then . . .
Forks of electricity cracked down from the sky, striking treetops around the clearing, sending flaring branches to earth. Strike after strike, one after the other in quick succession. Tyrellan scowled, the lightning gleaming off his fangs. This reeked of interference. The higher powers were taking an interest. Strike after strike . . .
With the clearing lit up like white day, the girl straightened. Her arms steadied, her hands moulding power drawn from the light, and a ball of flame collected at her fingertips. Between lightning flashes the growing fireball bathed the clearing in its own orange illumination, lending strength unto itself. A few moments on and it was huge, the heat so intense that Tyrellan caught a waft of it in the wind.
With a defiant cry, Elessa splayed her fingers and released. The fireball roared towards the undead mage, expanding as it went. Fazel raised a hand to ward it off, but the ball changed neither direction nor velocity. Just before it hit him, he flung his arms wide. It was a gesture of embrace.
The fireball carried his burning corpse across the clearing where it exploded against a tree, sending out a cloud of sparks and ash.
Fazel’s words reached Tyrellan as his body became a conflagration: Tell your master that I did my best.
And after that a joyous laughter, fading into silence. The rain reduced the flames to tongues and charred bones fell to earth.
Thunder followed the lightning. The rain began to clear.
•
Battu flinched as the oncoming flames consumed his view and snuffed out Fazel’s sight. His real sight took over, blazing out the window, as if sheer force of will would allow him to go on seeing what occurred in the north. It did not. The bug-eye in Fazel’s head had been incinerated along with its host.
Why were there two babies? Damn it all, wasn’t anything ever simple? Did it have something to do with the Stone? He had recognised it for what it was, and harboured vague suspicions about what had happened . . . but now was not the time for theories. He could see no way to retrieve the Stone, and even if there was a way, there seemed no point. The damage was done.
Instead Battu cast around for other useable creatures, and found one so perfect he almost disbelieved it. One of the blade reinforcements who hurried through the wood towards the clearing was ignorant of the bug-eye in his skull – and Battu knew in that moment why he sent out so many of the creatures. Impatiently, he waited for the man’s sight to become useful.
•
All Elessa wanted was to lie down and sleep. Every vestige of her power
At her feet the babies bawled. She hadn’t believed her eyes upon seeing the pair of them, but there wasn’t time to think on it now. Her opponent still faced her, and his body mended itself, whereas hers would not survive another of his spells. Miserably she felt her power failing, felt his darkness penetrating her defences in many places. She pushed it back, but it was like pushing back a glacier. Slowly and surely, it came. Death came.
And then . . .
•
Tyrellan crept to the tree line. The blade had taken longer to kill than he’d anticipated and he had no idea of what had occurred between Fazel and the Varenkai bitch in the meantime. He was vexed to see that Fazel had not disposed of her yet, but it didn’t look like long now. She was hunched over, no doubt due to the dagger wound, and her outstretched arms shook with effort. Fazel, however, looked just as he usually did, and Tyrellan could see his dark magic creeping towards the girl, snuffing out her light as it went.
Just one final light to snuff out, he thought.
And then . . .
Forks of electricity cracked down from the sky, striking treetops around the clearing, sending flaring branches to earth. Strike after strike, one after the other in quick succession. Tyrellan scowled, the lightning gleaming off his fangs. This reeked of interference. The higher powers were taking an interest. Strike after strike . . .
With the clearing lit up like white day, the girl straightened. Her arms steadied, her hands moulding power drawn from the light, and a ball of flame collected at her fingertips. Between lightning flashes the growing fireball bathed the clearing in its own orange illumination, lending strength unto itself. A few moments on and it was huge, the heat so intense that Tyrellan caught a waft of it in the wind.
With a defiant cry, Elessa splayed her fingers and released. The fireball roared towards the undead mage, expanding as it went. Fazel raised a hand to ward it off, but the ball changed neither direction nor velocity. Just before it hit him, he flung his arms wide. It was a gesture of embrace.
The fireball carried his burning corpse across the clearing where it exploded against a tree, sending out a cloud of sparks and ash.
Fazel’s words reached Tyrellan as his body became a conflagration: Tell your master that I did my best.
And after that a joyous laughter, fading into silence. The rain reduced the flames to tongues and charred bones fell to earth.
Thunder followed the lightning. The rain began to clear.
•
Battu flinched as the oncoming flames consumed his view and snuffed out Fazel’s sight. His real sight took over, blazing out the window, as if sheer force of will would allow him to go on seeing what occurred in the north. It did not. The bug-eye in Fazel’s head had been incinerated along with its host.
Why were there two babies? Damn it all, wasn’t anything ever simple? Did it have something to do with the Stone? He had recognised it for what it was, and harboured vague suspicions about what had happened . . . but now was not the time for theories. He could see no way to retrieve the Stone, and even if there was a way, there seemed no point. The damage was done.
Instead Battu cast around for other useable creatures, and found one so perfect he almost disbelieved it. One of the blade reinforcements who hurried through the wood towards the clearing was ignorant of the bug-eye in his skull – and Battu knew in that moment why he sent out so many of the creatures. Impatiently, he waited for the man’s sight to become useful.
•
All Elessa wanted was to lie down and sleep. Every vestige of her power
Similar Books
