Chaos Unleashed (33 page)

Far below them the map began to grow in size. The crude representations of trees and mountains transformed into reality, growing to true scale in a matter of seconds. The wavy lines became an ocean stretching out before them, and Rexol’s staff metamorphosed into a massive black obelisk sending up a beam of pure white light to the heavens.

The Keystone!

Focusing on his destination, Keegan wrapped an arm around Scythe’s waist, then willed himself toward it. Suddenly they were flying through the air, hurtling toward a tiny island on the far end of the world, propelled along by a massive wave of Chaos.

We’re going to make it!
Cassandra thought.

The worst of the Kraken’s Eye was behind them. They had reached the farthest edge of the whirlpools and the storm; somehow, Tork and Bo-Shing had brought
The Chaos Runner
safely through.

Through the ebbing rain she could see clear skies and smooth waters ahead. In the distance, the Keystone jutted up from a tiny island, shining in her Sight like a beacon.

The ship suddenly bucked as they were hit by a massive wave. But this was not spawned by the sea; as it rolled over them Cassandra recognized the terrifying power of Old Magic.

What did you do?
she lashed out at Rexol.

That was not me,
the wizard protested.

Tork had stopped shouting orders at the captain. His expression of perpetual calm was gone, replaced by a look of abject terror.

“The Sleeper awakes!” he shouted.

Even as the words left his mouth, Cassandra felt it rising from the depths—a Chaos Spawn so ancient and monstrous the Old Gods had never let it touch the land. Her awareness recoiled from it, refusing to allow her mind to picture fully the horror that was coming for them. Instead, her mind was assaulted with a collage of rapid-fire images: hundreds of wriggling, writhing tendrils attached to a body of immense size reaching up from the depths toward them.

Reeling, her attention fell on Bo-Shing. It was only then that she realized something was very wrong with the captain.

He’s hollow,
she thought, struggling to comprehend what she was seeing
. And something is living inside him. Something dark and sinister.

I tried to warn you!
Rexol shouted.

Before her dazed mind could make sense of what was happening with the captain, the beast from below struck. Dozens of long, suckered tentacles slithered across the deck of
The Chaos Runner.
Each was as thick around as a man’s waist, but they moved with the speed of striking serpents. They snatched up half the crew in seconds and dragged them screaming down into the depths.

Shoji tried to run as another arm snaked its way from the water and lurched toward him. But the deck was covered in glistening slime left behind by the first wave of tentacles, and his feet flew out from under him. Cassandra cast aside the rope that lashed her to the mainmast and leapt toward him, grabbing his hand as the tentacle coiled around his ankle.

Suddenly they were both being dragged toward the edge of the deck. Cassandra managed to brace her feet against the ship’s railing, calling on the Crown to give her the supernatural strength to hold on. But the man she was clinging to was made of ordinary flesh and blood, and he shrieked as his arm ripped free from his body and he vanished over the edge, leaving Cassandra holding nothing but a bloody stump.

Repulsed, she tossed the limb aside. Another swarm of the slimy, slithery appendages crawled up over the side, flailing about for more victims. Cassandra jumped clear as one grasped for her ankle, then scrambled up the mainmast to get clear as the few surviving crew members were taken.

Use the Crown!
Rexol screamed inside her head.

This time she didn’t argue. Instead, she slung the bag from her shoulder and pulled out the Talisman. Just before she placed it on her head a massive tentacle erupted from the deep, twenty feet in diameter and with suckers twice the size of a wagon’s wheel. It wrapped itself around
The Chaos Runner
and snapped the hull in half with a single squeeze, sending up a shower of splintered wooden planks and beams.

The front half of the ship vanished; still in the clutches of the gigantic tentacle, it was instantly dragged below the surface. Fortunately for Cassandra she was on the other half, though it was sinking quickly.

She placed the Crown on her head, bracing herself for Rexol’s attack. But the wizard didn’t try to fight her this time; even he recognized the danger they were in.

A million sounds and images—the thoughts of every person in the mortal world—exploded in her head. But they were pushed aside almost instantly by the looming presence of a consciousness of unfathomable age and power.

Brushing up against the behemoth with her Sight earlier had temporarily stunned Cassandra. But now that she was wearing the Crown, she was no longer overwhelmed by the Chaos Spawn. As magnificent as it was, it was nothing compared to the omniscient power of the Crown.

Sleep,
she thought, projecting her will toward the leviathan below.
You are not of this world! Return to the depths and sleep!

The creature fought her at first; after eons of slumber it had no desire to resume its hibernation. But even the mightiest Chaos Spawn had to bow before the power of the Talisman. Reluctantly, the creature retreated back to the black abyss whence it came.

Still clinging to the mast of the sinking remains of the ship, Cassandra peered out across the water, looking in vain for other survivors.

It was only then that she realized how still the sea had become. The wake of the rising monster had carried them beyond the edges of the Kraken’s Eye, leaving her alone on the calm waters a few miles from the island.

I can still reach the Keystone,
she realized.

In that instant, Rexol tried to take control. She felt the wizard’s consciousness explode into the forefront of her brain, shoving her own awareness aside as it tried to leap from the Crown and into her physical body. The mage had caught her off guard, and for a moment he had the upper hand in their struggle. But Cassandra had cast him out once before, and after a short but violent mental battle she reasserted control.

Ripping the Crown from her head, she let go of the mast as the second half of
The Chaos Runner
sank slowly out of sight. Alone, she bobbed in the calm waters, clutching the Crown in her hand as she tried to recover from Rexol’s ambush.

She could see the island only a few miles away, but swimming to the distant shore was not an option. The back-to-back battles with Rexol and the Chaos Spawn had left her so exhausted she could barely keep herself afloat.

With the last of her strength, she managed to wrap her free arm around a shattered plank from
The Chaos Runner
’s hull floating nearby. She could sense there was still power trapped within the wood. If she could just hold on, it would eventually ride the currents and bring her safely into shore.

And what then?
Rexol wondered, but Cassandra was too angry with him—and too drained—to answer.

K
EEGAN INSTINCTIVELY BRACED
himself for impact as the Keystone rushed toward them, wrapping his arm even more tightly around Scythe’s waist as they hurtled through the sky. But they didn’t swoop down and land at its base like Gods descending from on high. Instead, the world around them began to blur as they neared their destination and their pace rapidly slowed.

A shimmering blue veil fell over everything, growing brighter until it became so intense Keegan was forced to squeeze his eyes shut. Then his ears popped, and suddenly he could feel that he was standing on solid ground again. Opening his eyes, he saw the black obelisk towering above them, exactly as it had appeared in his vision.

“Look down,” Scythe whispered.

Below their feet was a shimmering blue circle roughly four feet across—the same size as the one on Vaaler’s map, where their journey had begun. Though translucent, they couldn’t see the ground beneath it. It appeared to be a glowing hole plunging down into infinity, but somehow he and Scythe didn’t fall through even though they were standing right on top of it.

Keegan gave Scythe a nod and let his arm drop from her waist. Taking a deep breath, she hopped out of the glowing circle and onto the ordinary-looking ground beyond its edge. Keegan joined her a second later.

Even after they had left it, the strange glowing circle remained—a magic portal, open and waiting just for them.

Only you and Scythe can use the portal,
Vaaler had explained.
Nobody else will even be able to see it. To return, simply step inside and imagine yourself back in Callastan. Once both of you pass through, it should seal itself behind you.

“Where’s Cassandra?” Scythe asked, taking quick stock of their surroundings.

There wasn’t anyplace on the island to hide. Scattered clumps of long, wispy grass that barely reached up to their knees were the only vegetation, and there were no large rock formations or hills. The only notable feature on the entire island was the Keystone itself. From where they were standing they could actually see all the way out to the ocean in every direction.

It can’t be more than two miles across,
Keegan thought. He made a slow turn, taking in the beach that formed a sandy ring around the entire perimeter of the island.

“She must not be here yet,” Keegan said. “We beat her, thanks to Vaaler’s spell!”

“I’d say it was your spell, not his,” Scythe argued. “Vaaler may have planned it out, but you’re the one who actually brought us here.”

“If you say so,” Keegan conceded modestly, though her words caused a burst of pride to swell inside him.

“I don’t see a ship on the horizon,” Scythe said, gazing back toward the east—the most likely direction of Cassandra’s approach.

“I guess we just have to wait for her, then,” Keegan answered uncertainly.

We were so intent on getting here in time to stop Cassandra from using the Crown,
he realized,
that we never even thought about what we would actually do once we arrived.

Scythe glanced back at the shimmering portal on the ground.

“How long will it stay open?” she wondered aloud.

“Vaaler wasn’t sure,” Keegan said. “He thinks a few days unless we use it first.”

“What happens if Cassandra doesn’t show before then?” Scythe asked. “Or if she doesn’t show up at all? Do you have any idea how to fulfill Jerrod’s prophecy and restore the Legacy?”

Keegan turned to look at the massive black obelisk, craning his neck as he let his gaze run all the way up the black stone until it reached the top. Neither the swirling shadows trapped inside the rock nor the strange symbols carved into its surface offered any immediate answers.

“She’ll be here,” he insisted, recalling his dreams. “And I think we’ll know what to do when the time comes.”

Orath felt the incredible weight of an entire ocean pressing in on him from all sides. He’d been clinging to the ship’s wheel when the Chaos Spawn dragged the bow of
The Chaos Runner
down. As the ship went under the surface, he felt one of the smaller tentacles wrap itself around his ankle.

He struggled in vain to break free from the monstrous grip as he was pulled toward the ocean floor. And then suddenly the beast released him; driven back to its lair by the power of the Crown. He was free but still hundreds of feet below the surface.

At this depth there was no light, and the extreme pressure was more than most surface-dwelling creatures could survive. But Orath was strong enough to endure, for a few minutes at least.

Orath peeled away the living suit of Bo-Shing’s skin, tearing the flesh away in long, sinewy strips. Summoning Chaos, he launched himself upward, cutting through the black water like an arrow shot toward the surface.

He was moving fast, but the surface was far, far away. His lungs began to burn; even a Minion needed to breathe. After what seemed like an eternity the darkness slowly receded as he reached a depth pierced by a few dim rays of the sun. The water around him turned from black to green and finally blue, even as his starving lungs screamed out in protest. Just when he thought they’d explode, he breached, his body instinctively gulping in air as fast as it could.

For several seconds he couldn’t even think, his mind panicked by the terror of almost drowning. But the fear soon passed and Orath’s composure returned. Though he couldn’t see Cassandra or the Crown, he could feel the pull of the Talisman off in the distance, drifting slowly toward the island on the horizon.

Orath followed, swimming with long, powerful strokes.

Cassandra was struggling to stay conscious, her mind desperate to sleep so it could recover from her recent mental battles. Clinging to the plank from
The Chaos Runner
’s hull, she floated along in a haze.

When the tide finally brought her into the shallow waters near the island’s shore, she didn’t even open her eyes. Lacking the strength to stand, she let go of the wood and crawled through the shallow surf on her hands and knees, still clutching the Crown in one hand.

Tiny rocks scraped up her hands and knees, their sharp edges cutting through her clothes. But Cassandra wasn’t even aware enough to register the pain. She scuttled forward like a blind crab until she reached the safety of the beach, then collapsed on the warm sand, the Crown finally slipping from her grasp.

“I see something!” Scythe shouted, peering out toward the beach.

Keegan followed her gaze but couldn’t pick anything out on the horizon.

“Where?” he asked.

“Someone just crawled out of the ocean,” Scythe said, her vision allowing her to pick out the figure at nearly a mile away. “It’s Cassandra!”

She broke into a run, heading toward the beach. Keegan tried to follow but was quickly left far behind.

Scythe could see that Cassandra wasn’t moving. The Crown lay beside her, the sunlight reflecting brightly off its shining surface.

Keegan was laboring along slowly behind her, but Scythe didn’t slow. Cassandra might see them as an enemy; she might try to use her Talisman against them. But if Scythe could get to the Crown before Cassandra regained consciousness, she could nullify the threat.

She was still a quarter mile away when another figure rose from the waves. It was tall and thin, but its batlike features were clearly not human. It fixed its yellow eyes on Scythe as she rushed forward, then flicked them down to the Crown.

Powered by the Sword, Scythe was running so fast her hair flew straight out behind her and the wind whistled in her ears. But the creature was much closer, and it lunged forward and wrapped its long, skeletal fingers around the Talisman while she was still a hundred yards away.

It gave her a look of utter disdain, then placed the Crown atop its head.

Orath saw his opportunity and seized it. Cassandra was helpless, the Crown was his for the taking. The mortal charging toward him carried Daemron’s Sword, and Orath knew how deadly the weapon could be. But of all the Talismans, the Crown was the most powerful.

He placed it atop his head, eager to unleash its full power against both her and Cassandra.

Instead, the inside of his skull exploded.

Rexol had tried to take the Crown from Cassandra twice. But she was wary of his presence, and she had been able to cast him out. The creature that wore the Talisman now had no idea he was lurking.

The wizard struck hard and fast, shredding his unsuspecting victim’s mind. Bits and pieces of knowledge bubbled up into Rexol’s own consciousness as he tore away at the other’s identity.
Orath. Minions. A netherworld beyond the Legacy ruled by Daemron the Slayer.

The mage ripped away everything, wiping out all traces of what the thing once had been. In seconds it was over: Orath, last surviving Minion of Daemron the Slayer, was gone.

Only Rexol remained, his consciousness fully possessing the body of a creature from the other side of the Legacy. With his new eyes he saw a young woman rushing toward him, a blade raised above her head to strike him down. The weapon burned with the power of Old Magic.

But Rexol now possessed Old Magic of his own, and he opened himself up to the glorious power of the Crown.

Scythe was only thirty feet away when a brilliant burst of green light erupted from the figure on the beach. It rolled toward her like a wave, throwing up a swirling wall of sand.

She ducked her head into the crook of her arm to shield her eyes as she held the Sword vertically out in front of her with both hands. The wave of green light washed over her, knocking her off her feet and burying her in the sand.

A booming voice echoed inside her head, and she knew it was coming from the thing wearing the Crown.

I am Rexol, and I am a God! Kneel before me!

Scythe felt her legs buckling as if to comply with his command, but she caught herself before she obeyed.

“Scythe!” Keegan screamed from somewhere behind her. “The Keystone!”

The horror in his voice compelled her to turn away from Rexol. The obelisk was still standing, but a giant crack now ran through the smooth black stone of the side facing her.

I am Rexol, and I am a God!
the voice inside her head screamed out again. Even though it was only a thought, Scythe could hear the madness in it.

She snapped her head back to Rexol, but he no longer seemed aware she was there. He stood with his long, thin arms raised to the sky as a bank of dark, purple clouds gathered above him. He was surrounded by a dark green glow that crackled and popped with barely contained energy.

Even Scythe could see he was summoning Chaos, though to what end she couldn’t guess.

I am Rexol,
he cried out again,
and I am a God!

He’s snapped!
Scythe realized.
The Crown is too much for him to handle!

Something exploded behind her: a wet, horrible sound. Wheeling around, she saw the air thirty feet behind her shimmer and shift. A dark black sphere materialized, hovering a few feet off the ground. At first it was the size of a fist, but it quickly stretched to several feet across. As it grew, the awful noise intensified—the sound of reality itself being torn apart.

The Legacy!
Scythe realized.
It’s crumbling!

A misshapen, three-fingered hand emerged from inside the sphere, clutching at the edge as some nameless abomination hauled itself through. The thing stood roughly the height of a tall man, though its arms and legs were disproportionally short and its torso was round and bloated. It was naked and hairless, its gray flesh hanging too loosely on its frame. It had no nose, and its mouth was nothing but a gaping maw of pointed teeth. It had only one eye, perfectly centered in its forehead. In one hand it held a crude axe.

The creature lunged for her, making a clumsy swing with the axe. Scythe easily dodged the axe, then ran the Sword through its eye, felling it with a single blow.

Reality shrieked in protest again as the sphere stretched wider, its lower edge now reaching all the way down to the ground. Another monstrosity came through; this one had the head and torso of a woman atop the body of an enormous black snake. She was bald, and her skin was covered in scales. She carried no weapon, but instead of arms she had two long, segmented appendages tipped with deadly stingers, like a pair of scorpions’ tails.

The thing slithered toward Scythe, moving fast. It lashed out with a stinger, but Scythe ducked to the side and responded by slicing the horrifying limb off halfway up its length. The snakelike tail lashed out to sweep her off her feet, but Scythe jumped up at the last second and it harmlessly whipped past beneath her boots.

She lashed out with the Sword, slicing a deep, diagonal wound across the thing’s female torso. The woman’s head screamed once though it sounded more like a hiss, and the creature collapsed and began to spasm uncontrollably on the ground.

Ignoring the death throes of her opponent, Scythe focused her attention on the ever-expanding sphere. The wet, ripping sound assailed her ears again, and this time two of the living nightmares came through at the same time.