Shades of the Past: The Morcyth Saga Book Six (55 page)

“Shut it down!” he yells to be heard over the
roar of the battle. “Shut it down now!”

Miko is so caught in maintaining the flow
that he isn’t paying any attention to him. Stepping back, James
kicks the Star out of his hands. When the Star leaves his hands,
Miko collapses into an unconscious heap.

Another shimmering ball flies toward him, the
mage grinning in triumph. Sending out his magic, he explodes the
ball and once more he’s hit by what must be a backlash of power
which sends him to his knees.

Turning back toward the mages, James gazes at
the mage standing there. The look on the mage’s face says he’s sure
of victory as another of the shimmering spheres appears between his
hands. Using the last vestiges of power, he casts one final spell.
A shimmering bubble leaves his hand and floats its way toward
Kerith-Ayxt. As his sight fades to blackness James sees the look of
victory again on the face of the High Lord Magus, then passes
out.

“Is that the best you can do?” Kerith-Ayxt
asks.

With a thought, he sends the sphere to
destroy the bubble. Instead of being destroyed, the sphere appears
to be absorbed by the bubble. Then suddenly something latches onto
the flow of magic coming from him and begins drawing magic.

The High Lord Magus tries to cancel the flow
but realizes in panic that he is unable to. Growing in intensity,
the bubble begins drawing more and more power from him. Behind
Kerith-Ayxt, mages fall as the Lattice pulls ever more magic from
them to replenish his reserves that are being drained by the
bubble.

Sparkles begin dancing within the bubble from
the accumulation of magic stored within. Brother Willim and the two
remaining followers of Asran watch in awe as the bubble glows with
growing intensity, the sparks within it increasing in number and
intensity.

From across the battlefield, Jiron blocks a
soldier’s downward hack with the crossed blades of his knives and
kicks him backward. Momentarily free of attackers, he glances
around the battlefield and sees the light coming from where the
bubble is growing. Suddenly, another soldier appears before him and
thrusts with his sword.

Deflecting the blade to the right, he lashes
out with his other knife and takes him in the side of the neck. As
the man falls, his eyes are again drawn to the now blindingly white
light. “Oh no,” he breathes as recognition comes.

“What?” asks Stig from where he’s parrying a
series of attacks.

“We’re all dead,” he says with finality.
Memories of the explosion that rocked the night when they escaped
the City of Light play through his mind. Casting one more glance to
the growing doom behind him, he turns back to the battle at
hand.

The High Lord Magus, the most powerful mage
in the Empire, is on his knees as magic continues to flow from him.
Unable to stop it, he watches as the bubble before him grows ever
larger. At one point, the light coming from it robs him of his
sight as the brightness burns his retinas away.

As he falls to the ground he can feel his
skin beginning to shrivel itself upon his bones as his life leaves
him. Sadness grips him. Sadness of the loss of magical advances.
Sadness over the loss of the many friends already dead behind him.
But most of all, he’s sad for what the future may hold. The School
of the Arcane helped control and direct those who practiced magic
so the world wouldn’t have to endure atrocities. Now, without their
influence, how many more Baerustin’s will there be?

His lungs quit working and finally, his heart
grinds to a stop. Kerith-Ayxt, High Lord of all the Magi, dies.

The bubble, now brighter than the sun reaches
critical mass. The magic within it too great for it to last much
longer. When at last the bubble gives out…

Schtk!

…and time suddenly freezes just as the magic
was about to explode outward.

Men stand frozen across the battlefield.
Poised to attack, their swords remain stationary in the air. Arrows
are halted in midair on their way to their targets. A surreal quiet
settles over the battlefield as all sound is stilled.

Moving across the field of battle, a man
winds his way through the men frozen in combat. On one side he sees
a Raider with the point of a sword protruding from his back from
the thrust of an enemy. On the other a head that was shorn from a
nearby headless torso hovers two feet from the ground, waiting for
time to start again before finishing its fall.

The man reaches where the Star of Morcyth
lies upon the ground, still pulsating with light as if in defiance
of the stoppage of time. Next he comes to Miko and pauses. Bending
down, he runs his hand along the side of his face, caressing it as
a father would his beloved child.

Standing up again, he continues along until
coming to James. Glancing over to the bubble, frozen at the moment
of detonation, the man shakes his head. “Why did you have to do
that James?” he asks. “Couldn’t you see another way?” Gazing at the
unconscious James, a tear wells from his eye.

Of all the probably outcomes of bringing
James to this world, this was one of the ones they feared the most.
The only one they had feared more was his death before he finished
what he was brought here to do. Now, the world stands upon the
brink. Time, once a friend has become the enemy.

Returning his gaze to the man in whom the
hope of the world had been placed, he just shakes his head sadly.
Raising his hands, he creates a protective barrier around James and
the rest of the defenders, a shield against the blast. That much he
is allowed to do, no more. What happens from this point on rests in
James’ hands.

Once the shield is in place, the man
straightens his blue vest and pushes back his felt hat. “Good luck,
James,” he says then vanishes. Once the man is gone, the passing of
time resumes.

Booooooom!

The sky turns red as fire burns across the
top of the barrier in the blink of an eye. Many soldiers of the
Empire are caught on the other side of the barrier and are
incinerated in an instant. The ground leaps and ripples causing
everyone to lose their balance and hit the ground.

Heat from the fire burning on the far side of
the barrier passes through and is incredibly hot. Even with the
protection the barrier affords, hair smokes and those caught at the
edges suffer great burns.

A full minute does the ground move until
finally settling down. Illan is the first to return to his feet.
Staring up at the blaze which is covering the top of the dome, he
asks under his breath, “James, what did you do?” In every
direction, the fire burns. How are they even alive?

“What happened?” comes a voice behind
him.

Illan turns to find Ceadric approaching, his
head turning this way and that as he looks at the fire.

“I don’t know,” Illan replies. The smell of
burnt hair comes to him and he looks to where the edge of the
barrier touches ground and the dead men lying next to it have begun
to smolder. “Get everyone away from the edges,” he says. “Everyone
to the center.”

Ceadric nods and begins gathering men. “Up
you dogs!” he yells to those still on the ground. “Pull the injured
to the center. Away from the flame’s edge!”

Jiron and Scar help Potbelly to the center.
During the fighting, he had suffered a severe wound to the leg. A
tourniquet is tied securely around his upper thigh to stop the flow
of blood. “Can’t take him anywhere,” Scar comments to Jiron.

“Shut up,” says Potbelly weakly. “Don’t need
any help.”

Jiron sees Stig and shouts to him, “Get Miko!
Potbelly needs him.”

“Right,” replies Stig and then hurries over
to where Miko was last seen. He finds Delia there with the slingers
helping Brother Willim and the rest of the Hand to organize the
wounded. Miko lies there with the rest of them, unconscious.

“Is he alright?” he asks her. “Potbelly needs
him.”

“I don’t know,” she replies and then nods to
where the Star has been returned to his hand. “If that can’t help
him nothing can.”

Stig turns back to Scar and Jiron. “Over
here!” he yells and they begin making their way over to them.

“Is the entire world burning?” he asks to no
one in particular.

“I don’t know,” replies a soldier bringing a
wounded comrade to the brothers for healing, “maybe.”

The barrier had encompassed less than a
hundred soldiers of the Empire. Hedry took it upon himself to round
them up with the help of other Raiders and bring them to a central
area where they could be kept under surveillance. The enemy
soldiers who were too badly wounded were given a quick end.

Less than half their force remains. All the
recently armed freed slaves perished in the fighting and most of
the crossbowmen as well. Of the Raiders, only three hundred are
left. Illan is amazed there are even that many left. Coming to
where James is laid out, he asks Delia, “Is he alive?”

“Barely,” she tells him. “His skin is hot to
the touch and he trembles every now and then.” She looks up at him
and says, “I’m not sure if he’ll survive.”

“Can’t you do anything?” Illan asks, turning
to Brother Willim.

“He was the first one we saw to,” he
explains. “What’s happening to him is beyond what we can do.”
Nodding to where Miko lies unconscious he adds, “Maybe with the
Star Miko could do more, but until he awakens there’s nothing more
that can be done.”

To Delia he says, “Let me know if his
condition changes.”

“I will,” she replies.

As the fire rages across the barrier, the
temperature within continues to rise. Men begin shedding their
armor and soon all are wearing nothing more than their small
clothes.

Half an hour later, blue sky filled with
billowing black clouds begins to be seen through the top of the
barrier as the fire starts subsiding. Shortly after that, Miko
regains consciousness. Groaning, he opens his eyes then snaps them
closed again as light stabs them like hot knives.

“He’s awake,” he hears a female voice say,
“get Illan.”

A hand touches his chest and gives a little
shake. “Miko,” he hears the voice say again and then realizes that
it’s Delia who is talking to him.

“Water,” he croaks. A moment later his head
is raised slightly and the neck of a water flask is put to his
lips. He takes several small swallows before the water flask is
taken away.

“Miko,” Delia says again. “James needs
you.”

Coming fuller awake, he shades his eyes and
then opens them a crack. The pain knifes into him again as he’s
helped to a sitting position. Looking around, he sees James lying
next to him.

With fingers trembling from fatigue he picks
up the Star from off his lap, then with Delia’s help he scoots over
to where James is lying. Head swimming and spots appearing before
his eyes, he tries to concentrate and bring forth the magic of the
Star. The trembling in the hand holding the Star increases as what
little strength he’s recovered leaves him. Suddenly, the Star falls
from his fingers and only the quick reflexes of Jiron prevents it
from falling upon James’ chest. Swooning, Miko collapses.

“Damn!” curses Illan.

“At least the fire seems to be letting up,”
offers Shorty.

Looking up at the barrier’s apex, Illan finds
the fire has continued to subside even further. “That is
something,” he admits. Looking down at James, Illan hopes he comes
out of it soon.

In no time at all, the fire upon the barrier
has completely subsided. When no more flames are touching the
barrier, it winks out. Cool desert air washes over them despite the
fact it’s the middle of the afternoon. After being in the
sweltering heat contained within the barrier, even the hot summer
air feels cool.

Looking around, they see an area of
devastation beginning where the barrier had ended. Flat and grey,
the ground looks to have been burnt clean by the blast, there are
still pockets of fire scattered here and there. Of the enemy
soldiers caught outside the barrier there’s no sign, not even
bones.

“Get the wounded in the wagons,” Illan says
as he begins barking out orders. “We still have a ways to go before
we reach the safety of Madoc.” He pauses a moment and waves Jiron
over to him. “See that James and Miko are put in the same wagon,”
he tells him. “And post a guard.”

Jiron nods and goes to see that it’s
done.

Potbelly is put into one of the wagons, his
wound healed by the brothers. Alive and cranky he gives his friend
Scar no end of trouble as he works to get him into a wagon. Jiron
grins, if he’s got strength enough to complain, he’s likely going
to make it.

It takes them an hour to be ready to roll. A
couple of the wounded that the brothers said were beyond even their
skill had to be put out of their misery. Brother Willim sits on the
wagon carrying James and Miko as they get underway.

Illan takes the lead when they leave the
untouched area where they were sheltered from the blast. His
horse’s hooves kick up the grey dust which soon clings to
everything. They travel for an hour before the ground shows any
sign of improvement. From there it gradually returns to its former
state. By the time they leave the grey area behind them, everyone
is coated with the grey dust. Looking back at the column behind
him, Illan can’t help but think they look like ghosts passing
through the desert.

When night falls, they keep going. None wish
to remain any longer in the Empire than they have to, especially
seeing as how close they are to Madoc. During the night, Miko stirs
a couple times and by morning he awakens completely. James on the
other hand continues as he has been, feverish and bothered by
tremors every once in a while.