"They only follow you because you will kill them if they don't-as you tried to kill me, as you will try to kill Talon and his followers."
Jeska pressed her numerical advantage by summoning a flock of falcons. She needed him to concentrate on them for just a moment more. " I am the only one with enough courage to face you and tell you the truth, Kamahl. Drop the sword, and I will follow you. Drop the sword, and Talon and the Elite Eight will follow you. Drop the sword, Kamahl, and we will all follow you to glory."
Kamahl wavered, staring at his sword and the silvery orb in the pommel, while the two remaining firecats and the falcons circled in closer.
"You know I am right, Brother," continued Jeska. "I can see it in your eyes. Think about what you have done in the last few weeks. Joha. Talon. Me. That wasn't you in those attacks. It was that foul orb unlocking a beast within you. Just like Chainer."
Jeska thought Kamahl was going to drop the sword and walk away from the Mirari, so she held her beasts at bay, hoping the nightmare could end without any more bloodshed. Then another voice broke the silence.
"Don't listen to her, Kamahl," called Lamar as he pushed through the crowd. "She's a traitor. She attacked me, and she killed Balthor!" The crowd gasped.
Jeska cried, "No!"
The fire in Kamahl's eyes flared brighter than ever as he grasped his great sword in both hands and struck down the nearest firecat with a stream of boulders.
"No, Kamahl. No!" cried Jeska, seeing her last chance to reason with her brother burn away in his seething anger. She had no other choice now. Commanding her falcons to descend, Jeska flipped the daggers over in her hand and watched for her opportunity.
It came quickly. Kamahl swatted at the first few falcons, but then roared like an enraged animal. Spinning the pommel of his sword between his fingers, the barbarian grabbed it in both hands and pointed it up into the air, unleashing a geyser of molten lava that incinerated bird after bird.
With her brother's attention up in the air, Jeska let her daggers fly, burying them in between the middle knuckles in the back of the barbarian's hands. Kamahl screamed in pain, dropping the sword as he brought his bleeding hands down in front of his face. Immediately, Jeska's remaining firecat loped in, grabbed the sword between its teeth, and bolted for the ring of spectators.
"You conniving bitch," spat Kamahl, wincing as he slowly withdrew the slim daggers. "You killed Balthor, and now you intend to kill me."
"It's not true," said Jeska while Kamahl ripped strips of cloth from his shirt and bound each hand to staunch the bleeding. "What Lamar said is simply not true. Balthor and I talked. He agreed with me that we should take the orb from you. He wanted to do it himself, but I couldn't let him take that chance, so.1 knocked him out with a jolt of lightning. He's not dead Kamahl. I would never kill Balthor."
Kamahl looked up at his sister, the fire in his eyes replaced with a cold, murderous stare. "You and Balthor never agree, not on anything," he said. "You went to enlist his aid in your treachery, and when that failed, you killed him."
"That's right, Kamahl," said Lamar. "They argued, and then she electrocuted him with those wicked hairpins. She held the spell for a minute. Held it until Balthor dropped."
Kamahl let out a primal scream that reverberated off the mountains, then he rushed at his sister in a blind rage. Jeska rolled to the side, kicking her legs out as Kamahl came in, knocking the large barbarian to the ground. She had no choice now. She had to win this battle to keep the orb away from her brother.
Kamahl bounced off the dirt and rolled away from his sister as Jeska hopped to her hands and knees. Kamahl, covered in dirt and blood, ran right at his sister again.
As he closed, Jeska tightened the muscles in her legs, preparing to jump. But instead of diving to the side, Jeska leaped right at Kamahl, flinging her hands out in front of her and clasping them together over her head, intending to bash into the large barbarian's chest with her full weight and knock the wind out of him.
Jeska missed the mark. Kamahl veered off course and tossed his arms out to each side. Instead of landing a finishing blow on her brother, Jeska slammed into Kamahl's outstretched arm, catching his wrist in her neck. Suddenly stopped in mid-jump, Jeska's head and ponytail whipped forward over her brother's arm while her legs and torso continued on underneath. Her body flipped around the arm, where she hung for a brief moment, before she fell on her back with a dull thud.
A few minutes later, Jeska opened her eyes, still groggy from hitting her head. She could see nothing more than streaks of light from the torches, could hear the low rumblings of the gathered crowd, but could not pick out any faces through her blurred vision. Then she heard her brother's booming voice.
"Stand aside!" he cried. "It is time to finish this once and for all. The witch must pay."
Jeska tried to stand but could not yet feel her feet. Trying to wipe away the blurred images with the back of her hand, Jeska could just make out her brother pushing his way through the crowd.
Kamahl tossed the bloody daggers into the dirt and came at Jeska, his great sword, burning white hot, held high over his head in his bandaged hands. Tiny blue flames danced all along the edge of the six-foot blade, mesmerizing the groggy Jeska as her brother advanced upon her.
Jeska tried to crawl out of the way, but her legs failed to move. All she could do was mouth the word "no" as Kamahl plunged his sword deep into her abdomen, puncturing her stomach and tearing a huge gash through her intestines, before exiting right next to her spine.
The momentary shock and pain that Jeska felt from the metal ripping through her belly was nothing compared to the searing heat that spread from the wound throughout her body, as if the blue flames had leaped from the blade and ignited inside her.
As the internal fire radiated out from the wound, engulfing her legs, her lungs, her heart, and finally her head, Jeska crumpled to the ground at Kamahl's feet, her green eyes open, searching for some hint of her brother left inside the creature that had struck her down.
CHAPTER 13
Balthor walked into Auror, one hand resting on his axe handle and the other massaging his bruised temples.
"Blast that girl," he grumbled. "Me head is going to ache for a week." While making his way slowly toward the great hall to inform Kamahl that the scouts had not checked in, the dwarf noticed a crowd gathered outside the ale hall. A shout pierced the still night air. "Stand aside! It is time to finish this once and for all. The witch must pay."
"Oh, Fiers! No!" said Balthor. "Jeska." The dwarf ran. Fighting his way through the mob, Balthor pushed to the center behind Kamahl just as the large barbarian plunged his father's sword into his sister's body.
"Kamahl! No!" roared Balthor as Jeska crumpled to the ground. Rushing up to the man he'd treated as a son even before the boy's father died, Balthor looked down at Jeska, the daughter he had adopted and cherished. The massive sword that Balthor had forged a century earlier had torn a huge gash in Jeska's stomach. But there was no blood. Instead, small blue flames danced within the wound, slowly burning the flesh, which seared and fused together.
"What have ye done, me boy?" asked Balthor as he grabbed Kamahl by the arm and tried to pull him around. A deathly silence washed across the gathered barbarians. "What have ye done?"
As Balthor pulled on him, Kamahl whirled around, the fire in his eyes flaring, his sword drawn back in his bandaged and bloody hands, ready to strike again. But when the barbarian saw Balthor's face, the rage washed away from his eyes, replaced by a look of confusion. Kamahl dropped the tip of his sword to the ground and stared at Balthor.