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Authors: Sharon Green

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Epic

Prophecy (48 page)

BOOK: Prophecy
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“Mistake number three,” I announced happily while throwing even more strength into the only defense against Earth magic I’d been able to think of. “I hope you don’t mind that I’m now numbering the mistakes correctly, but it has to be done in order to avoid confusion. None of us touched the note you sent, because Lorand saw the poison and warned us. Rion used his Air magic to open the thing and protect us, so any sort of antidote is unnecessary. But that goes only for us. If you don’t want to be left without groupmates, forget about this confrontation nonsense and agree to work with Lorand. The two of you can—”

“Nonsense?” he interrupted with more of a screech than a growl, his face twisting into something grotesque. “This
nonsense
was
my
idea, and can’t possibly fail to win us the day! Once you and the others are dead, all those stupid peasants will understand just how strong we are and will go back to where they belong without any more foolishness. We will
not
lose what we have, we will win even more—starting right here and now!”

And with that he launched his attack at me, the attack I’d been expecting from the moment I’d walked in there. I’d given him a chance to surrender, but I’d first provoked him to what I’d hoped was the point where he would refuse the offer. If any of those usurpers lived, they would be a rallying point for every member of the nobility still eager to run things
their
way. I didn’t know if I’d be able to put the man down, but for the sake of all the people who
had
been and would be hurt, I had to try.

So I’d woven an invisible shield of Fire magic, hoping that it would have
some
effect against Earth magic. A shield like that wasn’t supposed to be possible, but I
knew
there was a way for me to touch another aspect
somehow
. The knowledge had been tickling around the edges of my mind for quite a while, but I still hadn’t been able to get a grip on it. And then the man’s attack crashed in, and I suddenly felt as though my chest was about to explode.

“Isn’t it marvelous how another person’s heart attack can change a loss to a win?” the man singsonged, a frightening smile on his face. I’d staggered and fallen to my knees, but the pain in my chest hadn’t even let me notice when I hit the carpeting. “I don’t know what you’redoing to interfere with my talent, but it isn’t quite as effective as you’d hoped it would be, is it? You’regoing to die in another minute or so, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”

I gasped as I began to run out of air, the pain increasing by the minute. But strangely enough that elusive idea had finally come clear, and I now knew what to do to reach the man. The only problem was that I couldn’t bring my own talent to bear, not with what he was in the midst of doing to me. I had the answer, but would die before I could use it—!

And then the pain suddenly cut off, not completely but enough to make the growing spots of black in front of my eyes begin to fade a bit. I had no idea what had happened, but even as I heard an agony-filled scream start somewhere, I launched the plan I hadn’t been able to use earlier. Woven
power
was the key, not woven talent, not when the talents were so different one from the other. But power was something we all used, so I built a bridge of power to the center of the man’s talent, and then sent my fires along it. Why I didn’t simply burn him to ash I had no idea, nor was I in any condition to worry about it. I simply did things the hard way, and a second scream sounded in place of the first.

It took some time for me to pull myself together, but the shield I’d used had apparently protected me from lasting, permanent damage. As soon as most of the shakiness left my arms and legs I forced myself to stand, and only then did I understand what had saved me long enough to win the fight. Lorand’s friend Hat lay unmoving on the floor, his hands to his head, his eyes wide and bulging, his face still twisted in the scream he’d died with. He must have interposed his own talent between the other man and me, but he hadn’t been strong enough to protect himself from retaliation. He’d died before my fires had burned into his murderer, which meant he’d given up his own life to preserve mine.

“It looks like something I said actually reached you,” I whispered as I stared down at Hat’s body, fighting to keep my emotions under control. “You risked your own life to save mine, and that’s what I’ll make sure Lorand knows. Now he’ll be able to remember you with the love he always felt, Hat, and I promise I’ll do the same. Thank you for being a worthy friend.”

I couldn’t stop the tears trickling down my cheeks, and wouldn’t have even if I could. What Hat had done deserved the tribute of tears, so I turned and left that horrible room with a film of wetness blurring my vision, giving tribute to a man who would never again have to worry about admitting that something was his fault…

* * *

Delin Moord moaned and moved a bit, then forced his eyes to open. He lay on the carpeting of the room where he’d faced that disgusting slut of Fire magic, and she seemed to have gone. She must have thought she’d killed him with that slicing edge of fire, and something inside his head throbbed with pain. But rather than being dead he was still alive, which meant that he’d be able to find her and pay her back. No slut had ever bested him, and none ever would.

Pushing himself to sitting made him dizzy, but when his vision cleared he was able to see the fool who
hadn’t
escaped his just vengeance. And the man
had
been a fool to interfere, as though he were actually the High he imagined rather than the mere Middle he was. Causing a brain aneurysm had settled
his
hash in a hurry, but not soon enough to keep the slut from doing something to hurt him. He’d definitely have to get her for that, her and all her oh-so-special friends—

A sharp, stabbing pain in his middle made Delin gasp, a completely unexpected pain. And with the pain came sweat breaking out on his forehead, a shakiness to his hands, and a swift, invading chill to rattle his bones. He also noticed the dryness in his throat and mouth, and that made the matter certain. Somehow, in some way, an enemy had managed to poison
him
! He couldn’t imagine when it could have been done, but the fool doing it had been stupid beyond words. The poison was one Delin was familiar with, and it would be possible to neutralize it without needing to resort to an antidote.

Delin spent a brief moment getting grim pleasure out of the thought of what he would do to the one who was guilty of causing him this extra needed effort, and then he turned to saving himself. The procedure was simple in that the poison was easily identifiable and removable in whatever part of his body it was, and once removed he would quickly return to full health. So he reached inside himself with his talent, and—

The next spasm inside his middle caused him to scream, and this time the sound had an edge of panic to it. He’d reached into himself and should have at least located the poison, but hadn’t been able to see a thing. And he hadn’t had the
sense
of being inside himself, a practice he was reasonably familiar with. Something was clearly wrong, but what could it possibly be…?

It took a large number of minutes for Delin to finally admit the truth, and by then he lay on the carpeting again, writhing to the increasing pain in his entire body. As wildly impossible as the idea was to consider, that Fire slut had taken his talent rather than his life! She’d burned out every trace of his ability, and even though he knew exactly what could save him, he wasn’t able to perform the act! How could anyone be that cruel, that horribly heartless—!

Agony now touched Delin and made him scream mindlessly, at first just with sound and then with words.

“No, Father, please don’t hurt me again!” he screamed, terrified and needing to escape but knowing there
was
no escape. “It isn’t right for you to hurt me, it isn’t
right
!”

“Of course it’s right,” his father replied, just the way he’d always done. “It was right for
my
father and his friends to do it, and now it’s right for me and
my
friends. And if it wasn’t right, you’d be able to stop me, wouldn’t you? Go ahead and stop me, Delin, go ahead and try.”

And the adult Delin tried just as hard as the young Delin had, but was just as unsuccessful. So maybe his father
had
been in the right after all, and he’d been wrong. Delin screamed again, hating that idea and hating the pain, and then all his hatred was done for all time…

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

 

Vallant fought with himself as he walked along, trying to stop worrying about Tamrissa and simply concentrate on what lay ahead of him. Their timing had really been rotten, but he refused to let that disturb him. He and Tamrissa
would
have the opportunity to hold each other again, to make love again the way they’d done at first. He’d decided to accept no other possible outcome, and he had enough experience with being stubborn to make the decision stick.

As he walked he also examined the various things used to decorate the corridor, beautiful weavings and delicate carvings and castings. Someone with excellent taste had chosen the pieces, but that someone had also had a lot of gold to spend. On the other hand, having a lot of gold to spend doesn’t guarantee that a person will be visited with sudden good taste. Tamrissa’s late husband was an excellent example of how true that was, as his house had proven that the man hadn’t even had taste in his mouth.

But that line of thought was just a sneaky way his mind had found to think about Tamrissa herself, so Vallant pushed it away with the rest. He thought instead about the edginess he could feel working at the back of his mind, a feeling certainly caused by what he now walked into. If there wasn’t some sort of trap waiting he would eat his former ship, ratlines, sails, and keel. Their enemies could
not
be trusted under any circumstances, and he’d do well not to forget that.

It took longer than Vallant liked, but eventually he approached an area containing a room that wasn’t empty. The amount and distribution of the water in the room indicated two people rather than one, and that was somewhat puzzling. Twenty or more people would indicate a trap, but what was two supposed to mean? A moment’s thought gave Vallant nothing in the way of an answer, so he walked to the door of the room, opened it, and went in to find out the direct way.

“Well, this is a small surprise,” the man inside said, smiling faintly as he gazed mildly at Vallant. “I expected your lovely groupmate Jovvi Hafford to come running up to explain that you were in
her
place rather than your own, but she hasn’t. I’m Lord Kambil Arstin, by the way, her equal in Spirit magic.”

“That’s your opinion,” Vallant countered with a snort, then nodded to the other occupant of the room, a woman he recognized despite the changes she’d gone through. “Or maybe you bein’ Jovvi’s equal is simply your boast, as you seem worried enough about her to give yourself a bit of an edge. Was that female over there supposed to rattle Jovvi enough to let you best her? If so, what a shame it isn’t goin’ to happen.”

“Why is it that peasants always presume?” the man asked the world in general with a sigh, pretending that Vallant’s words hadn’t gotten him angry. “A gentleman speaks to them as though they weren’t worth less than dirt, and receives curtness for his trouble. At the very least, another gentleman would have responded with his own name. Or don’t you
have
a name, peasant?”

“Since you’reso desperate to know, Arstin, I’m Vallant Ro,” Vallant responded, wondering what the man was up to—and why he hadn’t yet stood. He looked a bit thinner and more frail than Vallant remembered from the competitions… “And don’t bother remindin’ me about the ‘lord’ part. This empire is about to lose
all
its lords, your lot first and then the rest.”

“I’m sure you think so, since all peasants tend to live in daydreams,” Arstin replied, that faint smile back in place. “But you’remuch better than a peasant, aren’t you, Ro? You come from a wealthy shipping family, so you know what it is to have two gold coins to rub together. Merchants do so like to harp on their having gold.”

“And useless slugs callin’ themselves lords like to harp on how clever they were in bein’ born,” Vallant returned dryly. “They sneer at the idea of someone earnin’ gold himself, because they know
they
could never do it. That’s why it’s always ‘beneath’ them, and why someone who does it can never be associated with. They’reafraid of bein’ shown up for the losers they are. Why is that woman just sittin there and starin’?”

“Primarily because I grew tired of her insanity,” Arstin answered, now apparently very pleased about something. “She’s obsessed with revenging herself for what she’s been put through, and her not unexpected target is Dama Hafford. It
was
the lady’s fault that this one was sent to the mines, after all.”

“The lady had nothin’ to do with it, and you ought to know that even if this one doesn’t,” Vallant retorted, unhappy with how satisfied Arstin looked. He was definitely up to
something
… “Jovvi didn’t even report the matter of the attempted kidnappin’, nor was she asked to testify at this woman’s trial. She ended up condemned through her own actions and her own admissions, just the way you and your groupmates have been. It’s all over, Arstin, and there’s no sane reason for not callin’ off whatever it is you have in mind.”

“To quote
you
, my friend, that’s
your
opinion,” Arstin said, still smiling that faint smile. “Since mine is completely different, we’ll continue on for a short while yet. I take it that the letter Delin prepared and considered such a good idea turned out to be totally useless? I’ll wager not one of you touched the thing, and therefore none of you is dying of poison.”

“This time you’reright,” Vallant agreed, glancing around to see if there was anything he should be noticing but wasn’t. “Our Earth magic user spotted the poison immediately, so none of us touched the letter. But you and your groupmates aren’t equally untouched, and we’ve been told that the counteragent you’reusin’ won’t work for very much longer. You’d better end this, so we can see if there’s anythin’ we can do for you.”

BOOK: Prophecy
10.24Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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