Karon ducked, ran, and flattened his back to a pillar, dropping the broken weapon and snatching the new sword Paulo tossed him. Even from my distance I could see him bleeding… from his shoulder, his arms, from one leg. “Get away, boy!” he cried harshly, as another bolt of fire split the air beside him. Paulo threw himself flat to the floor, skidding twenty paces. When the two Zhid were engaged with Karon again, Paulo scrambled to his feet.
“It is Parven and Ziddari he fights,” said Gerick, softly, walking slowly toward the battle, mesmerized, as if he were walking in his sleep.
I followed him. “These are just images, then? They’ve chosen to appear in this form?”
“No. These are real warriors, but the Lords have possessed them, using the warriors’ bodies but their own skills. If these two fall, they will bring two more and fight again. Notole seeks another host even now. They won’t stop. They won’t die.”
“You were willing to help me, to let us go free. Can you help him now?”
“Even if I chose to do so, I cannot. You heard me swear never to raise a hand against the Lords. They have called on me to fulfill my oath. I’ve told them that I won’t fight him. But I cannot aid him either.” Gerick paused and looked down at Exeget who lay in the pool of blood. He bent down and touched the Preceptor’s neck for a moment, then straightened up and nudged the body with his foot. Stepping over Exeget, he moved yet closer to the battle. With silent apologies to Exeget, I stepped over the fallen Preceptor and followed Gerick.
Oppressive, soul-chilling dread filled the chamber, cold horror that rolled in like a black tide, shredding the spirit, proclaiming that all was hopeless, that the end was upon us.
There is no escape…
Do you feel it, vermin prince? Make a portal to Avonar and its passage will incinerate your flesh…
Prepare for your anointing, young Lord. In moments there will be no living Heir.
I believed they were right. “Gerick, he is your father. In the name of all that lives-”
Before I could finish my plea, Paulo barreled out of nowhere, grabbed my arm, and pressed a short sword into my hand. His own blade was much too long for him. “We’ve got to help- Blazing shit!” He stared at Gerick’s face. “You damned fool! You donkey’s ass! You went and did it! Jerrat’s balls, I thought you had a brain in you.”
“How dare you speak to me?” said Gerick, spinning to face him, stepping forward.
“How dare? It’s how dare you.” Paulo waved his sword wildly at Karon’s plight. “Do you see what’s happening?”
“I see everything.” Gerick stepped closer.
Suddenly Paulo threw the weapon to the floor, and with the flat of his hand on Gerick’s chest, he shoved Gerick backward. “You’re doing this, aren’t you?”
“Don’t touch me.” Gerick did not raise his hand, but his rage swelled, fury that made the air shiver.
“This is just what you said you’d do. It’s going to be killing and nothing but killing forever.”
“Try me, horse boy. Do you think you could possibly take me down?”
“For the Prince, I could. For the Lady Seri, I could.” With each phrase, Paulo shoved Gerick again and again, until Gerick stumbled, and Paulo threw himself on top of him. The two crashed to the floor.
“Paulo, don’t!” I yelled, frantically trying to pull him away before Gerick could turn his power on him.
“Mighty Lords!” Madyalar let out a ferocious cry. “The young Prince!”
A roar like a hurricane blasted the room. A torrent of darkness swirled about us, ripping the light, dancing, screaming, tearing at clothes and hair, flaying us with its power. The air itself vented its anger; the stones about us groaned with the whirling tumult.
Kill the insolent fool, Lord Dieste! bellowed Parven, almost splitting my skull. Blind him! Take his heart and eat it!
Burn his skin away for daring to touch you-then taste of his pain! said Notole. Use the power to destroy these vermin who would enslave you.
Dread and horror gnawed at my soul, clouding my senses, threatening to tear my heart from my breast. An unseen hand slammed me backward. I could scarcely see as the two boys rolled on the floor, grunting and gasping, clawing and twisting each other in a tangle of robes and arms and legs and tunics. One and then the other was on top, Paulo pummeling away wildly, Gerick snarling and cursing, twisting Paulo’s limbs until they must surely break. He’s going to be dead, I thought-dear, faithful Paulo. My very soul felt bruised. The fury raged without slack… without end… slashing… battering… until Gerick staggered to his feet at last, leaving Paulo in a crumpled heap.
Silence. Utter. Complete. The tempest ceased. Thunder vanished. No clash of swords. No heaving breath. No flashes of lurid light from under the colonnade.
Madyalar screeched and chortled, extending her finger toward the still forms sprawled on the shining floor. “Four lie dead! The mad Prince has fallen!”
Gerick’s turned his head this way and that, his diamond eyes glittering in the uncertain light, as Madyalar knelt before him, dipping her finger in the gold case she had taken from Exeget’s robes. “My Prince, give me your hands. Let me anoint them with the true oil of silestia.”
But, of course, it was not the true oil…
I could not allow it. Not even here at the end of everything. He was my son. “No!” I cried. “Gerick, don’t let her touch you!”
The very same moment another voice cried out. “Wait!” Karon stepped from behind a pillar just behind us, his sword shining a brilliant green. “Still no good, Madyalar. You’ve miscounted-forgetting your own colleague. Exeget has won the last round between you.”
The woman gaped.
“Now, quickly!” Karon threw down his sword, closed his eyes, and held out his hands, and with his deep and shaking breath, his whispered word, and a grinding rumble as if the earth had split open, a portal gaped before us. This shimmering doorway did not open into some gracious lamplit room, nor even into a cold stone council chamber, but into a pit of absolute blackness from which came sounds so fearful as to make the strongest heart blanch. This is why they had risked sending Karon to Zhev’Na. With all portals to Avonar shut down, only the Heir of D’Arnath could open another way. This way. Through the Breach itself.
Karon touched my hand. “We need to go now. Gerick, you must come with us. I’ll carry Paulo.”
My son’s arms were wrapped about his middle. His terrible eyes pierced the gloom. So fragile in his darkness. So young.
The Lords’ wrath spun and surged around us. Footsteps rang on the stone beyond the great doors. They were coming.
“Ah, holy gods…” Karon’s voice broke. “We will not leave you here. If you stay… I will fight them until the last day of the world to set you free. I swear it.”
“And I with him,” I said, shaping the story yet again in my mind and heart, willing him to hear me. You have been blessed and beloved from the day we first knew you…
“Take care of Paulo, Seri. Get him out of the way.” As Karon retrieved his sword, I stepped to the battered boy on the floor.
“Wait!” Gerick held out one hand in warning. The world paused in its turning… and then, with his other hand, he reached out to Paulo.