Slow down, my boy , came Battu’s voice, and Losara felt the shadows around him thicken. Battu was able to control them in this room just as he had done in the dining hall – except that in water, shadow was everywhere. Losara felt barriers closing in, impeding his progress. He was a fly caught in toffee, and in a moment he would be swallowed. A dead throne guard floated past, seeming to accuse with empty eyes. Then the body jerked away, dragging limply in dark jaws.
Desperation brought a desperate idea, and he dropped into physicality once more. As mouths came towards him and jaws began to close, he sent out a shockwave of energy all around, electrifying the water. Shark-shapes rolled, jerking and churning. His own body convulsed as the power shot through it, for he was not immune. He raced to heal himself with one hand even as the other did the damage, staying one step ahead of burning himself away. The pain, as his flesh melted and re-healed, was excruciating. It was all he could do to stay focused on his task.
Sharks began to sink, their bodies thrashing all the way to stillness as the water itself burbled and boiled. For some reason Losara’s ears began to hurt a great deal, and he opened his mouth to let out a cry. Instead of water rushing in, his lungs found air, as the water around him exploded to mist.
Losara dropped to the floor, dripping and breathing hard. Healing himself at a rate faster than he could destroy himself had used up a great deal of strength, and his body felt like a shell of agony. As he stared at his hand resting on his knee, he realised he was missing a finger. It seemed the shark that had bitten him in shadowform had effected a lasting loss.
Chirruk won’t be pleased , he thought, remembering the lobster-god who had crafted his shadow hands.
The suspended moisture began to clear, revealing Battu with energy gathering at his fingers.
‘And on and on,’ Losara croaked.
‘And on and on,’ agreed Battu.
Yet I cannot harm him while he’s on the throne , thought Losara. Then it occurred to him – not his body, anyway.
He launched a sudden mental assault, forcing his way into the Shadowdreamer’s mind. The stone skin did not stop him – Battu had not thought of that when he’d opened a mental connection to speak to Losara – and Battu’s head snapped back.
A contest of pure will might even things up , Losara sent him. No fancy trimmings, no colour and conjurings. Can you match me here, Battu?
Battu strained against Losara, the energy fading from his hands as he redirected his efforts. Locked in a mental struggle, he could spend no power on attacking with spells lest the boy rush in and obliterate his mind. Curse him for finding this chink in his armour, which Battu had been stupid enough to reveal! But he’d been so sure, he’d come so close to winning, if it hadn’t been for Tyrellan …curse Tyrellan, curse everyone …
Curse you , he sent to Losara. I will dig up your mother and rape her corpse. I will make your father watch so it’s the last thing he sees before I gouge out his eyes and crush them under my heel.
My old teacher , replied Losara, should remember that I never did very well in his lessons about intimidation – whether it was giving or receiving.
Battu felt sick – the boy denied him even his hatred.
Everything he had went into pushing back, yet still he could feel the steady, inevitable approach. How deep did the boy’s reserves go? Deeper than those Battu could draw from the castle? Skygrip was a bottomless well of power, but as its conduit, Battu could only channel so much at a time lest it rip him apart …and despite the swathes of power coursing through him, the boy was winning.
He felt shreds of his mind flapping in the storm, old memories …for a moment he saw himself as a boy, in the filthy little village of Laz where he had grown up. There were the older boys, Gynt, Horon and Wattle, coming for him along the muck-streaked road. His bruises from the last encounter had not healed, but he did not run, for there was no point – they would get him in the end. They did not know that in a year or two Battu would discover his aptitude for magic, and would make them beg for their lives …and eventually their deaths.
Why did they hate you so much? Losara’s words blew the memory away, tearing it to pieces. Did you never have a true friend?
Stay out! roared Battu. He channelled more power from the castle than was safe, and felt his sinuses fizzing and his teeth rattling in his skull. Let me introduce you to my true friends.
Sharks spewed forth, memories of sharks rising out of the depths towards Losara, snapping at prey long gone. Battu sensed the boy withdraw slightly in alarm. He pushed forward in that moment, breaching Losara’s mind, delving inside, looking for a way to do damage.
A stray memory flashed past and he snatched it: a bearded man stared down at him, poking his belly and chortling. Battu recognised Corlas, and knew he was seeing some early moment from when Losara was just hours old.
So , he said, you do know what it’s like to be whole, even if you don’t think you do. Deep down, your soul remembers that it’s injured, broken, a fact echoed in everything you do. Even if you go on for a thousand years, you will only ever lead half a life.
He sensed Losara considering the words – and understood with certainty that he could not confuse or terrify his Apprentice. No, the most he could hope to do was make him consider . What was worse, it was not even the words Losara really dwelled on – to him they had been like saying that the sky was grey or the grass blue. The boy already knew that he was lacking, and he wasn’t perturbed by being told something he already knew, whatever the tone in which it was said. What he considered, then, was why Battu felt the need to taunt him, and what it said about Battu .
Stop turning things around , he said. You, boy, are too stupid to even recognise an insult.
Silently, resolutely, Losara forced him back. With dread, Battu knew it was too easily, too swiftly, that he was being pushed away. Losara was channelling too much power to control; it was like trying to grab hold of flowing water. Shadows spilled from Battu, billowing out randomly into the room, like the ink from an octopus. To his dismay, he saw that during his other exertions, he had failed to maintain his armour of viscous stone, which was now trickling back into the throne.
In response, Losara raised a hand, energy collecting at his fingertips. Battu knew he could not fend off destructive spells on top of the mental assault. Hate was all he had left, but he could not win simply by hating. There was something, however, that hate did allow, and that might also give him time to escape.
Fields of grass crossed his eyes, and the shining sun.
What is this? came Losara’s voice. What are you seeing here?
The boy was right on the cusp of Battu’s mind. He would be able to sense Battu’s despair, and also what Battu intended to do as his last punishing and vengeful act. The recoil this caused gave Battu the moment he needed. Slamming his hands down on the throne, he unleashed his final command as Shadowdreamer.
‘I order that Skygrip Castle be purged !’ he said, his voice echoing like an avalanche.
Down in Skygrip’s entrance cavern, under the archway that had once encased Grimra’s pendant, two Black Goblin captains spoke to each other while their squads waited uneasily beneath the watchful gaze of towering statues. Rumour had reached them that the Shadowdreamer was fighting his Apprentice, and the response needed was not clear.