Krolo's daggers were double-edged straight blades fixed with a horizontal hilt so that the blade was atop his knuckles, making the weapons an extension of Krolo's hands. One straight punch would easily puncture Rhanu's leather armor.
Rhanu struggled to fend off Krolo's relentless attacks. A long gash had lashed across his chest, and he suffered from several other stinging slashes from Krolo's whiplash strikes. Krolo was unnaturally fast, switching the directions of his attacks in mid-strike so even as Rhanu tried to turn aside the blow, it still managed to penetrate.
He ceased trying to attack and focused only on stopping his monstrous foe from killing him. His stomach clenched; sweat streamed down his face and stung his wounds. He seemed to grow weaker every time Krolo advanced. Krolo's katar blade whirred, and Rhanu moved as if through water. It stabbed deep into his shoulder and knocked him back against the tunnel wall. He panted as though he'd run for miles. The wakiza felt heavy as a milestone in his hands.
Let go, Rhanu. Ayna's words returned to his mind. Where was she? Rhanu hoped she was safe. He hoped she could forgive him for failing.
Krolo's face wrinkled in a bestial grin as he flicked his black tongue out to lick the blood that stained his blade. "Do you feel it, dark warrior? Your breath leaving your lungs, the strength fading from your muscles? You waste away before my eyes. Did no one tell you of the Dhamphir? We carry an aura of sickness and plague. None can stand against us without their health deteriorating. That is why your men died so quickly. You are a remarkable specimen, it appears, but even you have a breaking point."
I don't know how to let go.
Weariness bore down on Rhanu. His wakiza fell from his stiffened fingers. Krolo howled as his blades scored through the leather cuirass and into Rhanu's torso. He barely managed to avoid a lethal wound by leaping backward at the same time. It took all of his remaining strength to stun Krolo with a savage blow to the neck, throttling the creature. As Krolo gurgled, Rhanu staggered to the mouth of the tunnel, desperately seeking a way to escape.
He stumbled and fell ten spans to the rocks below. Even as the fall crushed the breath from his lungs, Krolo dropped beside him and seized him by the throat.
"So much heart for a human. Let us see how such valor tastes."
Rhanu's feet dangled above the ground when Krolo easily hoisted him upward with one hand. Gleaming fangs sprang from his gums as he sought Rhanu's throat.
Let me show you…
He remembered the feeling, the surrender he experienced when in Ayna's arms. The freedom of falling because he knew she was there to catch him. The clouds roiled in agitation above him, lightning flashed across the dark masses. In that desperate moment, he did something he had not thought possible without Ayna's touch.
He let go. He Shifted. And with his Other Eye opened, the memories of Raakhi surged through his mind unhindered.
Krolo hung suspended in the air, pinned by Rhanu's bind of Transference. Such a simple thing. His mind linked to Krolo's armor. Elements of the earth were much easier to link to than actual flesh, which was a complicated fusion of many elements. The armor made for an easy bond, allowing Rhanu to entrap Krolo easily.
Krolo's eyes were wide with disbelief. His voice was a rattling whisper.
"What are you, human? You cannot do this. It is impossible!"
Rhanu folded his arms. "There is not much that is impossible for a Sage. But that does not concern you. You should be concerned with judgment. I do not need to focus Clairvoyance to know you will never disavow your allegiance to Alaric."
Krolo sneered with twisted lips. "You know nothing. My allegiance is to Stygan. He is the shaper of this world, and his will absolute. So revel in your newfound power, Sage. It is but a drop of rain in the ocean that is Stygan."
Rhanu shook his head. "I thought you would offer something more substantial than empty rhetoric before you died." Transference again, intertwined with Eler. Killing was so close to healing, only a razor's edge separated the two. Such a waste.
Krolo gasped at the sudden seizure of his heart. His roar of pain echoed as the inner force suddenly swelled, expanding outward until it tore him apart.
Rhanu focused Tropos, using a wall of wind to shield him from the gore.
His chest heaved and for a moment the world span around him. His lungs felt singed. The toll of focusing the Disciplines was fatiguing on the unprepared. His head throbbed, his wounds flared like fire. Too many thoughts. Too many memories…
But he could not rest yet.
He felt a pull, something that touched the edge of his consciousness. Titien pulsed against his chest in response. The other Geods were close. Hzekmo and Eymunder. It was dangerous to have them in the same vicinity as Titien. Almost insane. If the remaining three were to resurface at the same time…
He stood and surveyed the battle below. Men surged against the walls of Aceldama in waves of glimmering armor and weapons. The flame and smoke were ugly wounds against the splendor of the grounds they fought and died upon. Rhanu ignored the pulses from the other Geods. There was nothing he could do about them until the battle ended.
With his access to Raakhi's memories, he would be a powerful addition to the invading troops. But the effort would weaken him greatly and surely would put him at grave risk. He and Ayna had discussed that. She had been sure he would be able to find a way to use the Geod to aid the combatants on the battleground without direct confrontation. Once again, she was right.
He looked to the sky, to the roiling masses of nightmarish clouds. With his Other eye already focused, he saw the complex threads of Tropos and Aether that bound the weather patterns in place. Elemental work appeared deceptively easy, for the forces were readily available. But nature resisted manipulation, requiring great skill from the wielder. With his Eye open, he prepared to unravel the work of the odji and open the sky to his enemy, which would make them mortal as the humans they battled.
He would bring them the sun.
Chapter 65: Nyori
Nyori's hesitant feet dragged her to the crimson-stained table, despite her revulsion and almost overwhelming desire to flee.
So many needle-thin nails pinned the woman onto the tabletop that the obsidian spikes nearly obscured her flesh. Some were nailed through her at various points to pin her to the table, others driven less deep, and still other barely penetrated her naked skin.
Her face was not spared. Tiny tacks decorated her brow and cheeks, though her eyes were still intact. Thin gauze wrapping blindfolded her and gagged her mouth tightly enough to redden the surrounding flesh. The long, narrow spikes rattled whenever the woman's body quivered as though she fought against the pain that ravaged her.
Nyori.
She jumped at the voice that spoke in her head. She recognized it immediately. It was Leilavin's voice. Nyori stared at the tortured body in shock. The woman did not look at all the same. The visible flesh was pale but not the chalk-white that Leilavin originally possessed. And her hair was black, not white as before. She appeared…human.
You must free me, Nyori.
Nyori took a wary step backward. "I can't. I don't know how and don't know if I should. I saw what you did to Marcellus, remember?" Her jaw trembled. "Maybe this is what you deserve."
You will never leave this place alive. Look at what they have done to me. The nails rattled as her body convulsed. It will only be worse for you.