The Light of All That Falls, page 84
The Oathstone went warm against his chest and then the creature was falling, the legs it had been using to grip the left side of the bridge separated from its body. Wirr hadn’t even seen Davian’s strike, that time.
He scanned the next pack of rabid creatures, every nerve taut, blood rushing in his ears as he willed each Bane that charged from the mists to be the last. From the mania of their attacks, all mindless fury as they threw themselves into the churning maelstrom of death, it was clear that they were being driven.
Wirr risked an uneasy glance to the side, the scene still too surreal to properly comprehend.
It wasn’t hard to guess what was doing the driving.
The world outside Asha’s golden ilshara had been swallowed by raging darkness, a swirling vortex that howled and slithered and smashed itself again and again and again against the dome surrounding Deilannis. The shield flashed with a constant, alarming intensity everywhere Wirr could see along the ground as more slavering Banes threw themselves at it, pushed themselves up against it, hammered at it. As Wirr looked, he could see bodies smeared up against its edge where the creatures behind had pressed so hard that they had killed those in front.
Wirr couldn’t begin to imagine how much raw Essence Asha was using to maintain the barrier under that sort of pressure.
“Keep it up, Ash,” he murmured under his breath, again feeling the heat of the Oathstone against his skin. “Focus on keeping that ilshara whole, and don’t worry about the rest. Be sure that Davian and I will do our jobs.” He glanced across at the young woman, hoping that he was helping his friend.
Asha, for her part, had barely moved since the ilshara had sprung to life. Beads of sweat glinted gold on her forehead in the ethereal light, but she showed no other signs of strain. Banes had almost reached her twice, now, Wirr striking the last one down only a heartbeat before it had attacked. She’d seemed not to notice, either too focused or simply unable to react. It wouldn’t surprise him if it was the latter.
He turned his attention back to the battle on the bridge, doing his best not to be distracted by the massive wall of Essence that stretched above and over them, slicing through the ground only a hundred feet away.
“Stop the tek’ryl jumping on your right,” he said quickly, spotting the creature making a scuttling, blindingly fast run at the edge. Davian was holding his position but it was temptingly close to the Andarran side of the bridge for the tek’ryl, who were infinitely more agile than the dar’gaithin.
The tek’ryl leaped and Wirr’s heart went to his throat as it soared through the air, describing an arc that would see it land safely.
At the peak of its jump a dar’gaithin’s flailing body hurtled from Davian’s position and slammed into it, knocking it violently sideways and sending them both down into the roaring white waters of Lantarche far below.
“Fates,” murmured Wirr appreciatively.
Davian appeared for a brief second on the bridge and yelled something indistinguishable to him; Wirr spotted the two more tek’ryl that had slung themselves under the bridge and were now scuttling toward him and Asha at an alarming speed.
He stepped forward in response, blood pounding in his ears.
“Stay on the bridge, Dav,” he said softly, bringing his blade up. If Davian gave any more ground, he would lose their only advantage to the position. Wirr was going to have to deal with these ones himself.
He tried to force down the fear that was suddenly gnawing at his chest. He had so little Essence to spare, and these creatures… they were enormous.
He heard Davian give a shout of frustration but there was no time to pay him any attention; he charged the massive scorpion-like Banes, every nerve taut as he watched for the first attack.
The tek’ryl scuttled with astonishing speed at him, massive black stingers poised above their backs, dripping black liquid that glistened in the Essence-light. The first one struck and Wirr dove to the side as the thick needle speared the ground where he had been standing, then rolled as the second tek’ryl’s attack followed immediately after, barely missing his head.
Wirr maintained the momentum of his roll and lashed out with his blade, aiming for one of the small, unarmored weak points that each of the creatures had around its knees. He missed, his steel bouncing off hard shell and sending a shock down his arm instead.
He scrambled back to his feet in dismay, backing away slightly. He was a perfectly capable swordsman, but this… this was beyond him.
A massive blast of Essence swept the creatures to the edge of the chasm and then into it, their limbs flailing as they tumbled down and into the icy waters of Lantarche.
Wirr stood frozen in shock, then turned, half expecting to see that Asha had noticed his predicament and had somehow diverted precious Essence to help.
Instead he saw Caeden already striding toward the bridge, Licanius bending the light, portal winking out behind him.
Hope suddenly surged within him and he stumbled to his feet again, quickly assessing the fight on the bridge. Davian was still standing, still blinking between Banes, a flood of the creatures dying and falling and screaming. But though Wirr had been distracted for only seconds, he could see fresh cuts on Davian’s face, could tell that his movements were heavier. He’d been weak after his encounter with Gassandrid. His Reserve was probably running out by now.
Then Caeden was there.
Licanius blurred in his hands and a wave of the creatures broke, scattering off the sides of the bridge. Caeden’s expression was calm as he took up a position by Davian, but there was something in the way he moved now. A barely concealed anger that Wirr had never seen in him before. A simmering fury that he was looking for somewhere to direct.
And as the Banes started their attack again, it quickly became apparent where he intended that outlet to be.
Where Davian had been a whirlwind of last-moment defense, Caeden was… aggressive. As Wirr gaped he actually took a step forward, farther onto the bridge. Then another. Then another. Davian moved up beside him, though Wirr’s friend was clearly drained by this point.
The howling from above increased as if in fury at Caeden’s success, but that only seemed to spur the former Venerate onward. Licanius sliced through the Banes’ armor as if it didn’t exist, and Caeden often bodily grabbed creatures and tossed them off the side, sending them flying away a shocking distance before they finally began to fall.
The tempest of violence continued for what seemed like hours, though Wirr knew it had to be only minutes. Banes broke from the boiling mists and streamed across the expanse of white stone, only to be met with steel and fury time and time again. Wirr did his best to direct Davian, this time aiming to shift him to best support Caeden, though Wirr wasn’t sure it was even necessary.
The stream slowed—almost imperceptibly at first. Banes still rushed from the white of Deilannis, but they were no longer shoulder to shoulder, no longer jostling for position and threatening to knock one another off the edge.
Then the creatures appearing thinned more. Three abreast. Two.
A few individuals sprinting from the mists.
And then finally—miraculously—nothing but the empty howling of the darkness above, and the glistening gold of the ilshara that held it back.
Wirr breathed heavily, eyes wide, barely able to fathom what he was seeing. The white of the bridge was almost entirely gone, covered in black ooze and bodies. Caeden and Davian stood alone in its center, facing the mists, chests rising and falling and every inch of their bodies tensed, as if they too couldn’t believe that there were no more to come.
Then they turned. Started picking their way back to the Andarran edge.
Wirr watched for a moment longer and then jogged to meet them, casting a cautious glance across at Asha and then at the raging hordes still throwing themselves at her ilshara from the outside. The Banes in here had been defeated, but that would be moot if they had to face the thousands more waiting to rip them apart out there. Still, his shoulders loosened just a little and a thrill of excitement ran through him as he headed toward his friends, the beginnings of a smile on his face as he considered what they’d just achieved.
Then he saw Davian and Caeden’s faces illuminated by the stark gold of the barrier, and his heart twisted, the joy of their victory short-lived.
Of course.
He slowed to a halt, waiting for the two men as they walked purposefully, grimly toward him. Neither of them spoke.
They joined him at the edge of the bridge, neither one stepping off onto Andarran soil.
“Not bad, Wirr,” said Davian over the muted shrieking of the darkness, mustering a forced, exhausted grin at his friend. “You saved my life… what? Three times?”
“At least five,” replied Wirr immediately, though his smile was half-hearted. He glanced back at Asha, whose face glistened with sweat now, plainly straining to keep the ilshara whole.
Caeden saw his look and nodded. “We cannot delay. What she has done…” He shook his head, admiration in the motion. “I didn’t think it was possible to control so much for so long. But she won’t be able to sustain that level of focus, not even with the power at her disposal. No one could. If we don’t close that rift before Shammaeloth gets through, this is all pointless.”
Davian glanced across at him. “Is Alaris…”
“Yes.” Caeden stared at the ground, emotion thick in his voice. “It’s just us, now.”
Davian said nothing for a long moment, and then abruptly stepped forward.
Wrapped Wirr in a tight embrace.
“It’s been my honor to be your friend,” he said softly, barely audible above the howls. “I know that whatever happens next, the best person for the job is in charge. I couldn’t ask for more than that.”
Wirr blinked away the beginnings of tears, a lump in his throat. He wanted to tell Davian to stay, that there was a way out of this.
“Fates. I’ll miss you,” he whispered fiercely instead. “I hope you know you’ll never be forgotten.” He pulled away, wiping his face in mild embarrassment.
Davian gave him a sad, tight smile, his gaze drifting past Wirr to fix on Asha. She couldn’t see him, Wirr knew.
“Tell her I love her, Wirr,” he said simply. “Make sure she’s happy.”
He turned away quickly, facing Deilannis. Took a step back onto the bridge.
Caeden, who had been watching, closed his eyes.
“Wait.”
“What?” Davian looked across at him, then up at the golden light. “Caeden, we don’t have time for anything else.”
“Alaris was right.” There was anger and frustration in Caeden’s voice. “If we don’t have a choice, then what’s the point?”
“We’ve both made our choices.”
“I have. But you never did. Not really.”
He drew something from his pocket. A small amulet.
“You already explained what that is,” said Davian immediately. “I’ll die if I use it.”
Caeden reached up and took off his torc, then walked over to Davian and, before he could protest, fastened it around his neck.
“And now?”
Davian’s eyes had gone wide as he adjusted to the sudden influx of Essence. After a moment, he shook his head dazedly. “It doesn’t matter. We both know what happens. We already know how this ends.” He frowned at Caeden as realization hit. “You need to use it, Tal, if Asha is willing. You can survive.” He reached up to take the torc off again.
Caeden vanished, blinking into existence behind Davian.
He pressed the amulet to the base of Davian’s skull, and began feeding Essence into it.
Davian’s eyes went wide and he gasped, dropping to his knees; outside the ilshara the darkness seemed to react, its screeches increasing in volume and intensity, clouds of black beating at the golden light high above. Wirr took a hesitant, confused step forward.
“What are you doing?” he shouted above the shrieking.
“Saving him,” Caeden yelled back, face a mask of grim determination.
Wirr stuttered to a halt. Davian was clearly in pain, his expression twisting, mouth wide as he tried to catch his breath. Dark tendrils of smoke began to rise from him.
He screamed.
Wirr stepped forward again, heart pounding as he tapped Essence. “Stop it!”
“It’s necessary!” Caeden glanced up at Wirr, pleading in his expression now as they locked gazes. He saw Wirr’s temptation to intervene, but he didn’t stop funneling Essence into the amulet. “It will stop him from being an Augur without killing him, Wirr. You have to trust me!”
Wirr closed his eyes, Davian’s pained screams digging at his soul.
He slowly, carefully forced his fists to unclench. Nodded.
“I do,” he shouted to Caeden.
Caeden glanced up again, and Wirr saw the depth of his gratitude in the look.
Wirr stood, unable to do anything but watch, stomach churning as the strands of oily smoke rising from Davian twisted together, gradually coalescing into a glistening black ball that flexed and pulsed wetly in the air. The last of the darkness drifted into it, sucked inside. It shimmered for a heartbeat.
There was a cracking sound, thunderously loud even above the howling, and Davian slumped as the ball exploded into a puff of white mist that immediately faded into the atmosphere.
Wirr hurried over as Caeden caught Davian and lowered him gently to the ground. Davian was still breathing, much to Wirr’s relief, though his face was pale and his eyes shut.
Caeden’s hand came away from Davian’s neck, and he brushed a fine grit from it. The amulet was gone, Wirr realized. Disintegrated.
“It’s done,” shouted Caeden. He sounded stunned, as if he hadn’t truly believed it would work. “Don’t let him take off that torc. And don’t let him come after me unless…” He grimaced, his expression turning to determination. “Don’t let him come after me,” he finished firmly.
He waited for Wirr’s dazed acknowledgment, then spun toward the gold-tinged bridge.
“Caeden!”
Caeden wavered, then turned back to Wirr.
Wirr strode over to his friend and embraced him.
“El with you,” he said, putting all of his sincerity and emotion into the words.
Caeden smiled, and Wirr could see him swallowing a lump in his throat. “And with you, Wirr.” He glanced back at Davian and Asha. “Look after them. I’ve been around a while, and people like them don’t come along often. Ever, really,” he finished softly.
He gave Wirr a final nod, and started across the bridge.
A few moments later, Davian began to stir.
Wirr dropped to his knees beside his friend, who looked up at him dazedly. “Wirr? What happened?” His voice was barely audible above the screaming all around them; his eyes suddenly widened and he sat upright, hands going to the torc around his neck.
“Fates.” He looked around wildly. “I… I can’t feel it. I can’t sense kan. It’s gone.”
He made as if to take off the torc but Wirr quickly pushed his arms down again, shaking his head. “It’s keeping you alive.”
“But…” Davian scrambled to his feet, turning toward Deilannis. Caeden was still visible, almost at the mists now.
“Caeden!” Davian yelled.
Caeden paused, somehow having heard the shout through the shrieking all around them. Glanced back.
Grinned and gave them a cheerful salute farewell.
Then he turned and walked into the mists, vanishing from view.
Davian and Wirr were silent for several seconds, stunned, just watching the spot where he’d disappeared.
Davian made to rise. “I need to go after him,” he said in frustration. “My fate’s sealed, but he could actually survive this.”
“Not anymore. That amulet’s gone. He’s made his choice.” Wirr pushed him back down firmly. “I don’t understand how it’s possible, but he seems certain that your being alive won’t keep the rift open now. So fates take me if you’re not staying here.”
Davian struggled but finally subsided, his brow creased, confusion the foremost of a jumble of emotions flitting across his face. He glanced around, back at Asha and beyond, to the ravening hordes of Banes railing against the ilshara.
“So what do we do now?” he asked faintly.
Wirr hesitated, then sat, settling down beside his friend.
“Now we wait,” he said quietly.
Asha kept her breathing steady, and the ilshara whole.
Every heartbeat was… impossible. A struggle against the desire of Essence to break free from the form she was forcing it to take, to escape into the ether and dissipate. A constant cycle of realizing that part of the barrier was weakening and flooding more Essence to it, shifting energy around even as it constantly decayed, reinforcing sections as quickly as the Banes could throw themselves against them, time and time again. The howling darkness all around beat at her barrier furiously, physically ineffectual but mentally draining, its shrieks daring her to pay attention for a moment. Just a moment.
She kept her breathing steady, and the ilshara whole.
Caeden had been right about doing this without any guiding Vessels or kan to help. She knew how to manipulate Essence beyond her immediate vision—most Gifted could do that—but this… this was barely comparable to anything for which she had trained. Keeping the structure steady in her mind, not allowing it to shrink or expand, making sure that each section had just enough energy to maintain its form. The power needed was exponentially more than the Tributary had ever taken, too; without a Vessel to make her use of Essence economical, this was draining her Reserve. Not quickly—she still had time—but enough to be a problem.
In her field of vision now, though she couldn’t afford to focus on them, were Davian and Wirr. Miraculously still alive. Keeping her company. Watching over her. Caeden had disappeared into Deilannis… hours ago? Minutes? Time felt meaningless.
