Eleanor (85 page)

“You are using water energy,” Eleanor gasped out, looking at Arran as she curled into a ball of agony at Conlan’s side.

“I can access energy from all four elements as needed,” Arran said. Still straining against her attackers and struggling to hold on to the energy she had, Eleanor tried to keep Arran talking, hoping to get some answers. If she lived to fight him again she was going to need all the information she could get.

“Can all Enforcers do that?” she asked haltingly, her words slow and laborious.

“You are full of questions,” Arran observed conversationally, as if an Avatar writhing at his feet was a normal occurrence. He stared at her for a moment before answering in a slight bragging tone.
 

“While Enforcers are rare, I am the rarest. Most become comfortable with one element as children and soon become unable to use any other. I was identified by Lord Daratus very early in my life. I was trained to use all the elements equally, so I have access to them all, but not at quite the same level you and your friends enjoy.”

“If you had this ability, why did you not use it when you attacked us at the waterfall?” Eleanor gasped, forcing the words out.

“What waterfall?” Arran asked.

Arran doesn’t know about the waterfall. Does this mean that Lord Daratus is not responsible for that attack? Or did he just not tell Arran?
 

Eleanor could feel herself losing the battle as the darkness crept in at the edges of her vision. She tried pushing a string into the earth, wondering if she still had the strength to draw more energy, but her string was dragged away, energy being pulled along it at an alarming rate.
Arran’s joined the fight.
He was strong, very strong, but as he pulled her energy, Eleanor felt no increase in pain.
Will didn’t feel pain when I pulled his energy, but he did when Conlan pulled it. Conlan has a shield, so why is Arran different? Does he not have a shield?
As a last-ditch attempt to defend herself, Eleanor pushed an energy string at Arran. Conlan felt it when she had touched his shield, so maybe the young Enforcer would, too. Maybe it would distract him. If there was no shield, perhaps she could reason with him directly. Despite her assumptions, Eleanor was surprised when her energy barrelled into his, her consciousness entering his mind, a million thoughts crashing against her at once. There were too many for her to register them all, but her mind automatically absorbed and stored them.
What happened to his shield? Where are his mind’s defences? I’m right, the pain is coming from having my energy pulled by Enforcers with shields.

“Get out of my mind!” Arran ordered, delivering a precise, practiced blow to the side of her head, his cold hazel eyes chasing her into the nothing.

“Conlan.”
 

The greeting was empty and emotionless. Eleanor fought the pain and exhaustion, forcing her eyes to open again. With blurry vision she saw Conlan, his hands tied behind him. He had been pulled up to his knees. A Protector held him up by gripping his throat and holding a fistful of his hair. She was lying on the floor of an empty room, big enough that Conlan’s name echoed around it once spoken. It was cold. There was a fireplace but it was shrouded in darkness. Three flickering lanterns left the whole room wrapped in shadows that seemed to move with intent. Eleanor saw the scene reflected as an indistinct tableau in the windows, made black mirrors by the darkness outside.

“Father,” Conlan replied, a matching emotionless tone.
 

So this is a Lord of Mydren…
 

The man standing in front of Conlan was tall with a solid body hidden under flowing dark blue robes that contrasted with the sharp pale-blue steel of his eyes. Eleanor could see Jarrick in them. His short hair was the same shade of brown as Conlan’s, the temples shot through with grey. The face was cold, hard and smooth like a sculpture, and it was impossible to guess at his age, because emotion had left no tell-tale lines upon it. His body was perfectly still.
Maybe that was why Jarrick loved statues; they subconsciously reminded him of a father he could never reach.
Eleanor could see two other Protectors standing behind Lord Daratus. They stood at relaxed attention, confident that their services would not be required.

Eleanor jumped when Conlan’s father lashed out and punched his son hard in the face. It was so hard that his head snapped to the side, wrenching him from the Protector’s grip and depositing him on the floor. The Protector stooped and hauled him upright, holding on to Conlan’s shoulders this time.
 

There was silence.
 

Lord Daratus was still, almost as if he had never moved. Conlan shook himself, spat blood and slowly raised his head. His father stared down at him.
 

“I disowned you. You are no longer my son, and for the short span of your life that remains you will not address me as such.” There was no anger, no irritation, just an emotionless tone. Conlan shrugged, implying he did not care one way of the other, but Eleanor could feel the waves of fear and misery that were pouring from him. Hurting for him, Eleanor forced herself to her feet. While she was struggling with this monumental task, Daratus preached, waving something in Conlan’s face.

“Is this what you want?” he asked. “This pointless piece of silver? This useless relic of a bygone age?” Conlan did not respond. His father hit him again. The Protector made sure he stayed upright this time. Eleanor realised that what Daratus was waving around was the crown.
How supremely confident he must be to have brought it within Conlan’s reach.

“What kind of a king wears a silver crown? It is so cheap, so pathetic,” Daratus continued, heavy emotionless words battering down. “You are an idiot. We defeated the abominations in the past. Did you think we would forget how?”
 

Once she was standing, Eleanor tried to work out what she should do. She held no illusions that they could escape – there may only be three Protectors present with their Lord, but it might as well have been a hundred. Will and Amelia lay together where they had been dropped, eyes closed and faces pale. Freddie lay a little distance away; he was conscious but his eyes were vacant. They had no energy to run. The Protectors had not even considered them enough of a threat to bother tying them up. None of the Enforcers were lurking in the immediate vicinity.
Guess they don’t consider us a threat at the moment either.
Inspecting her energy levels, Eleanor realised she was currently about as dangerous as a day-old kitten. While she could push an energy string out if she wanted to, there was no strength left in her to pull the energy she needed from the earth. However, the Lord and the three Protectors all had their attention on Conlan. No one had noticed she was standing, so she currently had the advantage of surprise.
But what do I do with it?
Conlan grunted as his father hit him a third time, the movement so quick that he was perfectly still again before Eleanor realised what he had done. There were very few options. Escape for them all seemed unlikely, and a solo escape would be non-productive. All she could really do was help Conlan. Maybe she could stop his father hitting him. Eleanor ran at the Protector that was holding on to Conlan. Her charging weight was enough to knock him over and drag them all down. They crashed to the floor, sliding a short distance on its polished wooden surface. Before they had stopped moving, Eleanor pulled the surprised Protector’s dagger from his belt, positioning the blade under his chin and pushing just enough so that he gasped and froze.
 

“I could kill you,” Eleanor whispered in Dwarfish into the terrified man’s ear. “Remember that I chose not to.” She removed the blade, slamming the trembling man in the temple with the dagger’s hilt. She moved around him as he crumpled to the floor. Coming up behind Conlan she sliced through the rope at his wrists. Her strength failing her, she knelt next to him, panting heavily, her head spinning, as he pulled the bindings away.

“I was under the impression that the abominations had been left helpless,” the Lord said, his gaze moving from Eleanor to the unconscious Protector she had left on the floor.
 

“That is what we were told, Lord Daratus,” agreed the taller one of the two Protectors standing behind him looking at Eleanor warily.
 

“Go! Fetch Arran!” Daratus ordered. The Protector nodded and looked relieved to be getting out of the way as he ran for the door. Conlan had managed to get himself standing, pulling Eleanor to her feet as he did so. His father watched passively.
 

“You have made loyal little playmates for yourself. Does it know what it will suffer because of you?” the emotionless voice intoned, hatred making his eyes burn. Conlan was silent, so Eleanor answered for him.

 
“
Drollup
!”

The growling subtext she added implied that she considered him her inferior. She had no idea what
drollup
meant, but she had heard it used twice as an insult, and as it was the only Dwarfish insult she knew, she was going to use it.
 

Daratus raised an eyebrow at her. “You taught the abomination to speak?”
 

“Getting her to speak wasn’t the problem, but getting her to shut up...” Conlan said quietly in English. Daratus glared at them, suspicion narrowing his eyes before deciding to ignore the comment.
 

“Then I shall tell it about the torture I will inflict.” An eerie half-smile touched his lips but failed to reach his eyes. He gazed at Eleanor for a moment. “I will rip and tear its flesh, crush and break its bones. Before it dies in agony, I will shatter any remaining sanity – and Conlan will watch it all, so it can cry to him for help that will never come.” His voice was the same cold, emotionless monotone, as if he was reading a shopping list, but for some reason this made what he was saying even more terrifying. Eleanor felt fear claw at her soul and she cowered, her back pushing into Conlan. He was trembling. She turned to look up into his face. Fury made him menacing. He snatched the dagger from Eleanor’s hand and flung it at his father. The movement had been quick, but the knife seemed to be moving in slow motion, tumbling end over end through the air. It slowed down and stopped its journey inches from Daratus’s chest. He watched dispassionately as it fell at his feet, and then he turned to the door, where a hooded Enforcer stood. Eleanor felt another shiver of fear travel through her; it was like his black robes were pulling light towards him, as if he were a walking black hole.

“Arran, while your timing is impeccable, would you mind explaining to me why this abomination is still standing?” Daratus asked as the Enforcer gave him a slight bow, pushing his hood back. Merciless hazel eyes focused on her, and the familiarity struck her again before the feeling of having her energy pulled blurred her vision and took what little strength remained in her body. Eleanor collapsed, vaguely aware that Conlan had caught her and lowered her to the floor. She whimpered as Arran tugged at her tiny spark of energy, then he pushed into her head. Frightened, Eleanor tried to push him out, but he flooded her mind with agony. She experienced pain upon pain, an agony that made everything else she had so far experienced seem like the imitation of pain in comparison. While her mind twisted and writhed in torment, her body thrashed in unison. As distractions went, it was effective. She was unable to form a coherent thought, let alone kick the intruder out. He looted her head as she struggled, unable to stop herself screaming. Then the agony was gone, leaving her fighting for consciousness. Her muscles twitched spasmodically and her right arm was trapped painfully underneath her. She had no strength to move or even open her eyes. She felt violated, weak and pathetic; she had been unable to protect her thoughts and feelings from being known by the black-robed figure in front of her. She wanted to cry but lacked even the strength for that. Arran spoke, his voice as empty and emotionless as his master’s.
 

“The Avatar of Earth is constantly connected to its energy source, so it recovers quickly. The Avatar of Air should also have this faster recovery time. I left it originally with barely enough energy to continue breathing. It should not have been capable of putting up a fight, my Lord.”
 

“So why is it attacking my guards?” Daratus asked.

“Love, my Lord.” The Enforcer spoke the word with distaste. “Its mind is complicated but its love for him…” a finger pointed accusingly at Conlan, “… is very clear. It is pushing itself beyond its limits to protect him.”
 

Daratus laughed humourlessly and Eleanor shivered as ice-cold terror washed over her.
 

“Do you love it in return?” he asked. Conlan said nothing. As her consciousness started to fade, Eleanor heard the running feet of more Protectors. Rough hands pulled her up, her head rolling forward wrenching her neck. The pain helped her fight off the impending darkness. A cold, firm hand grabbed her chin.
 

“This one is resilient, strong. I shall enjoy breaking it,” Daratus said.
 

Eleanor heard the sounds of a struggle, of fists hitting flesh.
Conlan.
She wanted to reassure him she was not afraid. She pushed an energy string out to him, feeling for his shield; she ran the string out over its surface, pretending she was caressing his face, wishing she could talk in his head. She knew he could feel it. The struggling stopped, but the sounds of violence continued.

“Stop!” Daratus ordered. “I want him conscious to witness the demise of his creations.” Eleanor’s faltering mind gave a start, trying to understand what she had just felt. At Daratus’s words she had felt Conlan’s shield fade slightly.

“You were always a disappointment, but you have also caused me a lot of trouble, Conlan; your actions have reduced my standing with the Central Tower. I intend to take that out on your abominations. Every blow, every pain I deliver will be your fault. I want you to remember that point as their dying screams fill your head. This futile stupidity is over, and I will take their lives in slow, agonising torture – because they believed in you.”