Mythborn: Rise of the Adepts (71 page)

She looked back up at her son and said, "Arek, you are special, in so many ways. Your destiny is far greater than any petty battles, for you will unite our worlds." Her face lit up with a smile, "But this is not the place to explain how, or why. It will be easier for me to show you. Will you come with me?"

Arek looked about in panic. "Where?"

Lilyth turned her gaze upon the portal and the blackness cleared upon her command. Beyond it, Arek could see green fields, crystalline blue lakes, and white, snow-capped mountains. Sunlight sparkled off the water like golden jewels, and lit the snowy peaks in an outline of fire, delineating them from the firmament itself. It was a land more beautiful than he had ever seen in his life and it felt somehow... right.

"Home," Lilyth said. "We live in a land of beauty and peace. No wars ravage us, no sieges. We do not covet our neighbor’s wealth, nor destroy what we do not understand. We are a land of learning, of conscience, and of honor. Our world is as you imagine it, a place of beauty, peace, and health." She took Arek by both shoulders, facing him. "Arek, you are a prince in our world."

Her gaze penetrated his own and he felt a stirring of something he did not understand at first, but became more and more clear. She was
proud
of him. The feeling, the reward that someone considered him important, somehow special, began to overcome his natural feelings of caution.

Arek looked back at the portal, mesmerized by the images he saw of Lilyth’s world, for it truly looked heavenly. He could see blue skies with white clouds casting shadows onto fields of yellow flowers. It seemed to be springtime, with a warm sun shining onto green forests fed by the rich, dark loam of the earth. This was a land of beauty, a land so infused with health he could almost
see
it.

"A prince?" he whispered.

Lilyth smiled, placing a gentle hand on her son’s shoulder. "Come with me. There is so much to tell you, so much to explain." She looked sidelong at him, then leaned in close and whispered, "You can meet your father. He will be overjoyed to see you, at last."

Arek’s head turned. "He lives there?"

"He will meet us there. Will you come with me?"

Arek took a deep breath. All his life he had believed he was special, that something about him was important. It was this belief that focused him to try to always give his best, yet his ineptitude with magic had followed him everywhere. He had always kept faith that being different was somehow important, special, and now he was being offered a chance to learn why.

The answers to his many questions lay through the Gate. There was only one way to find out, he concluded: by going there himself. He looked at this woman, this perfect being he had secretly begun to believe could actually be his mother and said, "I will come, but what about Niall and Yetteje? Will they be safe? What about my master, Silbane?"

Lilyth smiled again, then said, "Niall should come with us. He will be a boon companion, and your father will want to meet him, too." She motioned to Niall, who stepped forward woodenly. "Hold his hand, for he does not have the makings of the Aeris within him and is overwhelmed by the eldritch currents flowing around us. Your touch will help him. Once you are through the portal, he will be fine."

She walked them toward the portal. "Do not worry, Arek. Your ability to disrupt magic will not affect my Gate for very long. Take Niall’s hand. I will be right behind you. I need to ensure Bara’cor’s safety."

Arek looked at Lilyth and the voice within him whispered again,
Trust her. She is proud of you.
He nodded and smiled. To meet his father! He took Niall’s hand in his own ungloved one and said, "Please see that Yetteje and my master are safe."

He then looked at the portal and took a step, disappearing through it with the Prince of Bara’cor.

Journal Entry 23

I write this, but an event has occurred I thought not possible. She is here!

Malak found her when that rift opened, mortally wounded and close to death. I have brought her back from the brink, but still she does not stir. I withhold her name, for fear she is a figment of my imagination. Her presence, if real, is welcome.

Malak and the elves have evolved to be armored and blue-skinned, with fearsome horns and barbed tails. They are made for war, their skin hard and obdurate, like some type of stone. They defend me as their father, and more appear every day.

Each comes before me and kneels. I feed it a drop of my blood, pricked from my finger, a consecration of sorts. It seems to give them power, life.

These new ones are still small, and each seems attached to one of the four elements. Those who defend are stone. Those who scout are made of wood and air. I expect some of fire and earth will also appear, once my thoughts turn that way.

My mind believes this is how they are made and follows the same comfortable path to success. It is that, or my elves are bringing more forth with thoughts of their own. Regardless, I am watching the birth of a new race of beings, one with the very world around them.

Soon, they will be an army, and I will have to decide their fate. I go now to see to my injured companion, mending slowly under my inept hands...

C
LOSE THE
B
REACH

We do not rise to the level of our expectations,

But fall to the level of our training.

—Tir Combat Academy, Basic Forms & Stances

A
sh watched the line, making sure no man stood in another’s field of fire. He distributed arrows and helped stabilize weakened barriers. The men had shifted a large granite table onto its edge, letting the tabletop face the portal, but some steps back. They slid spear shafts under it so it sat on makeshift rollers, allowing Jebida and any who returned with him to exit into the room before the men of Bara’cor rolled the giant table to block the portal. Ash knew Kisan said the portal would close, but didn't want to take a chance, just in case.

A runner came then, out of breath and relayed the king’s most recent orders. After hearing them, Ash turned and motioned to Sergeant Stemmer, who said, "Men, gather round."

The four squads left to guard this chamber formed a loose circle, some taking a knee. When the sergeant nodded their readiness, Ash stepped up and said, "The king seeks his son near the cisterns. However, reports have come from the watch commander that some kind of creatures have infiltrated us from these same lower levels. I know our first thought will be to rush to our king’s aid, but he has asked we remain here. Our orders are to hold this portal until two allies, led by Firstmark Naserith, return with information vital to this fortress’s survival. In his absence and to maintain continuity of command, I have been asked to temporarily take the rank of Firstmark."

He looked at the men, noting their eyes had not wavered. They had not reacted to his information with anything other than their commitment to follow orders. Pride welled up inside him then and he said, "We’ll stand here together. We will hold this room because our king asks us this, because we have men on the other side that need us. Stand firm. You are the golden lions of Bara’cor, and no one will get past you."

Nods came from the men, more meaningful than a cheer in some ways. It showed they knew what they were being asked to do and would do it, even if it meant their lives.

The sergeant’s strident voice finished what Ash had started, "All right, boys. You heard the Firstmark, take your positions! Our orders are simple. We stand. We hold." Satisfied everyone knew what they needed to do, she turned and signaled the firstmark that they stood ready.

An excited voice cried, "The portal, sir. It glows!"

Ash moved quickly, getting behind the main barrier and grabbing a crossbow. He folded the stock, cocking it in one smooth motion and centering a bolt. When he was ready, he took a deep breath then leaned around the corner of the barrier just in time to see a purple flash and three men appear from the blackness.

Ash immediately recognized the first as Kisan. The woman looked tossed and banged about, with soot and ash covering her clothes. A cut ran across her cheek, bleeding slightly.

A
thwang
sounded next to him as a soldier fired his crossbow.

Ash screamed, "Hold your fire!" even as Kisan turned and deflected the bolt before it hit her, shattering it into pieces in an orange flash.

The other man coming through the portal had crouched at the sound of the bowstring, but had not otherwise reacted, his face measured and calm. His eyes drank in the details of the room, the position of the men and the exit. Having met Kisan, Ash knew the second man had already calculated how to kill them and get out of the room most efficiently. Silbane.

The man Ash thought was Silbane carried a body over his shoulder, an unconscious figure dressed in red robes. He made his way over to Kisan, then dumped the robed figure on the ground. He looked around again with that strange intensity in his faded blue eyes, then straightened, scanning the assembled men. When his gaze came to rest on Ash, he stepped forward and raised a hand, "Firstmark Rillaran, we are well met. I am Silbane."

Ash stepped around the barrier and nodded. "Where is Jebida?"

Silbane looked down, then at Kisan, before looking back at Ash. "We saw him fall, but so too did the nomad chieftain. He accomplished his goal."

Ash stepped back, stunned. A lifetime of memories under Jebida’s tutelage threatened to overwhelm him, but he knew his men needed him to stay focused on the task at hand. He looked down and let go of a breath he had not realized he was holding. He did not have the luxury to mourn the firstmark as he deserved, at least not now. His heart, a soldier's heart, hardened and he moved his thoughts automatically to tactics.

"I want to hear more, but later," Ash said. "We are well met, sir, but I must ask you to close the portal. It is an entry point to Bara’cor we cannot defend indefinitely. I only have sixteen men who can fit in here before our position is strategically unsound."

Silbane turned and looked at the portal in surprise. He looked back at Kisan and said, "It should have closed when I came through."

"Unless Scythe did something," Kisan replied.

Before Silbane could answer, a nomad spear flew through, narrowly missing them both. Then dozens of arrows came flying out, swishing through the air with feathered death, most bouncing off the large granite table, but a few sticking into wooden barriers. Some caught a few men of Bara’cor unawares, slicing through flesh, but no one was mortally wounded.

Everyone scattered for cover as Ash yelled, "Return fire!"

* * * * *

Dozens of bows bent and released, followed by crossbow bolts. They flew into the blackness as if falling into a hole. Silbane grabbed the unconscious form of Scythe and tossed him near Kisan’s cover, then joined her there.

"Scythe wouldn’t have left you the Finder unless it let him open a way into Bara’cor," Kisan said. "He seemed eager we escape."

Silbane raised an eyebrow. "Escape? I think he was more eager to kill us."

More arrows exchanged via the black door, impacting the barriers and granite table, lodging into wood or bouncing off stone. This time, however, no one from Bara’cor suffered injury. Of the nomads, they could not tell if their return fire had had any effect.

"No," Kisan countered, "he kept asking why we hadn’t left."

Silbane looked at Kisan, realizing she was correct. Scythe
had
seemed concerned they hadn’t escaped sooner. "Even so, if he’s somehow propped the portal open, I don’t know how to undo what he’s done."

Kisan smiled and pointed at Scythe. "He does."

Silbane immediately knew what the other meant and said, "Defend me." He then quickly put his fingers on Scythe’s forehead. Instantly his consciousness dove into the mindread, unraveling Scythe’s memories.

* * * * *

Kisan leapt up, blurring with speed to Ash’s position. "We need to hold this line, Firstmark. Silbane attempts to close the portal."

"I understand," he replied, motioning to a female sergeant, who began screaming orders. While those on the flanks set cover, those behind the granite table braced. At the sergeant’s signal, they tilted it back and two men shoved more rollers under the lip. Then they braced again and pushed, rolling the large table forward. The tabletop faced the open portal. If they could roll it far enough, they could drop it at the entrance and create a stone wall that would be difficult to pass.

Dozens more arrows flew out, bouncing off the granite surface. The men moved quickly, replacing rollers that came out back to the front. The table continued to move, closing the distance from six paces to three. One more push and they would succeed.

Ash gave another signal and the men braced again and pushed. The table rolled to cover the portal hole. They pulled back and the table legs acted as braces, making the table an effective wall.

A ragged cheer went up, but Silbane still knelt, his eyes shut. Whatever he was doing, he needed to do it soon. This temporary measure wouldn’t last against a real effort by the nomads and she hadn’t forgotten Rai’stahn was just on the other side.