WINDDREAMER (25 page)

A distance of twenty feet separated Conar from Liza, plus another eight or nine feet down into the chasm. On his belly, he scrambled to the edge of the pit. "Liza! Hold still! I'll get you out!"

Liza spun around and around. Water soaked her body, drenching it in wave after wave. Her arms dripped blood from the hemp cutting into the flesh at her wrists.

With no way to get to her, Conar wanted to cry. Suddenly, a popping sound caught his attention. He looked at the rope above Duncan's dead body. His breath stopped as he watched a strand of hemp come free of the braid.

"Liza!"

"Conar, no!" Raja yelled. "Forget her!"

He thought of flinging himself across the chasm, hoping to catch the rope, and by using his forward momentum, land on the other side where Duncan hung, half-suspended in the air. In the brief second it took him to get to his feet, he reasoned he might be able to haul Liza to safety if he could only gain the far rim of the chasm. Ignoring Raja's repeated warnings, he backed away from the edge of the chasm, preparing to make a running jump.

Tohre hurtled into Conar just as an arrow sailed past the sorcerer, barely missing him. Conar crashed onto the floor, the sharp, jutting rocks further splitting open the flesh on his knees, but he barely felt the pain. He knew he had little time to save his lady. Fury bubbled up in him, past the rim of sanity. He twisted under Tohre's dead weight, realizing the breath had been knocked from the Arch-Prelate.

He flung over the older man, straddled him, and wrapped his hands around Tohre's throat. Pressing his thumbs into the hollow, he felt a frantic pulse beating as Tohre struggled to draw air.

"You...can't...kill...me..." Tohre sputtered, his mouth gaping wide. "You...can't..."

In an attempt to pry Conar's fingers from around his throat, the sorcerer tried to flip Conar toward the chasm's edge. Conar tumbled to the side, making a full rotation until Tohre lay beneath him only inches from the drop off.

Conar fought harder than he had ever fought in his life, the winning more important than at any other time. His eyes fastened on Kaileel's, his lips pulled back in a primal snarl of savagery, Conar's powerful hands squeezed the fragile throat. He felt the cords of Kaileel's neck straining, and took hope from the way the evil man's face turned a purplish-red as he struggled to breath.

"I...can't...be...killed..."

Conar knew the exact moment Kaileel made the decision to topple them both over the edge. He didn't know if he'd survive the fall, but he understood that Tohre would. The ages-old sorcerer, having stored up soul after soul after soul with his unholy transmergences, would live on until another, more powerful, sorcerer took his life in the time-honored fashion--a sacred quarrel through the black muscle of his wicked heart. Conar idly wondered if the arrows in Raja's quiver were the kind needed to slay Tohre, thinking they likely were. If only he could reach one of the missiles...

He heard the snap of another twist of hemp on Liza's rope. Snarling with rage, all thought leaving his battle-engorged mind, Conar twisted to his left, drawing Tohre on top of him, then beneath him, away from the chasm's edge. Tohre's face registered defeat, then a hopelessness Conar never thought to see in those vile eyes. Though glazed from lack of air, the pale blue orbs still fused with Conar's, staring at him with something akin to love. The thought nauseated him, then turned his spine rigid as steel as a momentary surge of glee invaded his soul. He felt Tohre weaken, the furious strength waning from the wicked hands.

"Die!" Conar sneered from beneath clenched teeth. "Die!"

The part of his brain functioning normally heard a goodbye--Liza's goodbye. Enraged, Conar brought forth a greater strength into his fingers, and he felt Tohre's windpipe crumble beneath the pressure.

Out of breath, Brelan had run as fast as possible when he'd heard Conar's shouts. He had found the entrance to the cavern and climbed steadily upward, oftentimes on his hands and knees, until he gained the wide crevice where light filtered through in a dual band of smoky blue rays. He hadn't expected to find himself directly above the Maelstrom, nor to find Duncan's dangling body. But the sight that greeted him when he looked into the chasm filled his soul with icy dread. With disbelieving horror, he stared into Liza's wild, flaring eyes.

He pushed Duncan's body out of his way, silently rejoicing when the movement swung Liza closer to the rim and to his reach. Dropping to his belly, he reached for the shredding rope, only to hear it pop.

"Elizabeth!" he shouted, springing for the hemp.

He screamed when the hemp burned a deep cut in his right palm. The rope yanked on his arms, nearly popped them from their sockets, as he caught Liza's full weight. Agony shot through him, but he held on with every ounce of power in his body.

Brelan saw Liza slam hard into the wall, heard her head crack against the stone. A deep gash appeared on her left temple. Blood gushed from the wound, spraying the chasm walls as she swung unconscious.

Conar sensed his lady's pain. In that instant, he loosened his grip on Tohre's throat. Gurgling, Kaileel wedged his hands between Conar's arms to force open the hold that threatened to strangle him. He drove his left knee into the juncture of Conar's thighs.

Grunting, Conar doubled over in agony. He dropped onto his side, holding his tortured body.

Tohre scrambled to his feet.

"Don't touch him!" Raja yelled.

Tohre viciously slammed the toe of his boot into the small of Conar's back. Yelping in pain, Conar tried to roll away from the next kick. It caught him anyway, this time on the thigh, numbing his leg all the way to his toes. Gasping in maniacal pleasure, Tohre kicked again. Intense pain shot through Conar's side. His eyes widened as he found himself almost on the chasm's rim. Tohre dropped to his knees, blood and spittle dripping a steady stream from his open mouth.

Conar heard a shriek of fury, then saw Raja. Her hands drawn into claws, she flung herself at Kaileel's unprotected back. Her fingers gouged through his thin blond hair and into his scalp. Blood trickled from beneath her fingernails.

Tohre bucked, tried to throw her off, but she leaned into him. The force of her body slamming into Tohre's carried them both to the edge of the chasm, then into the yawning hole.

The sorcerer's furious scream, Raja's insane laugh of triumph, reverberated through the cavern and Conar's head, before being lost in the tempest.

Brelan tried desperately to haul Liza out of the pit. Fist over fist, he pulled the rope, straining, his fingers slick with his own blood and tearing flesh. Though he inched Liza closer to the top, Brelan felt his strength ebbing. With a sob of frustration, he squeezed his eyelids shut and continued to yank, groaning with every movement, grunting with each victorious tug upward. He ground his teeth, drawing on every bit of willpower left in his body, and ignored the agony in his muscles.

"Elizabeth," he called, but received no answer. He knew she'd been injured, could feel it, but refused to dwell on it. "You're going to be all right, Sweeting. I'll see to it!"

Conar gasped, feeling the drag of a broken rib when he sat up. He protectively clamped a hand over his side. The throbbing agony in his loins seemed nothing compared to the band of pain circling his chest. He struggled to his knees, retching. His head dropped to his chest as he crouched on all fours, trying to catch his breath.

Though he had watched the two bodies hurling into the pit, he could still feel Kaileel's hatred festering and knew the bastard had survived. He pushed himself up and looked over the chasm's edge, expecting to see Liza hanging there. Instead, his mind reeled when he saw Brelan struggling to haul her unconscious body to safety.

Scrambling to his feet despite the broken bone and throbbing flesh, Conar knew better than to call Brelan's name; the distraction could prove fatal to Liza. He held his breath as Brelan drew her upward. Praying every prayer he knew to every protective power, Conar sent Brelan what remaining strength he had of his own.

"I've got her," Brelan said, his eyes flicking for an instant on Conar. "Don't worry."

Sweat glistened on Saur's face as he continued pulling the rope with bleeding hands. Finally, Liza came close enough for him to lean out and take hold of her arm. Once he steadied his grip, he let go of the rope.

Terrified, Conar drew in a harsh breath, watching as Brelan captured Liza's other arm with his free hand. On his belly, inching his way toward the far wall, Brelan kept tugging. He looked exhausted, close to his limit. He took quick, deep breaths through his opened mouth as he strove to bring Liza onto the ledge. A nearby torch threw his face into a blaze of eerie light, grotesquely distorting his handsome features and turning his eye sockets into wide, gaping holes.

Softly so as not to startle his brother, Conar called to him. "She's bleeding, Bre." The sight of the blood on the top of Liza's gown, turning the green emerald black, brought pain to his voice.

Brelan flinched, but tightened his grip and finally pulled Liza onto the narrow ledge.

"Is she all right?" Conar called.

"I don't know."

Brelan scooted back along the ledge, drawing Liza with him until he could take her into his arms. He gently turned her so that her head rested on his chest, then pulled a dagger from his belt and sliced the rope binding her wrists. Reaching down, he slit the rope at her ankles.

"She's breathing, but still unconscious. There's a wound on her temple, but I don't think it's that serious."

"Head wounds bleed profusely," Conar mumbled, astounded he could say such a mundane, irrelevant piece of idiocy at this moment. He shook his head in annoyance.

"She's waking," Brelan reported, shifting Liza against him and smoothing back her hair.

Liza blinked several times, drew in several shuddering breaths, and looked into Brelan's face. Her skin turned as pale as freshly fallen snow. She whimpered in pain. "Oh, Brelan, no! Not you. Not you!"

Looking momentarily pained by her words, Brelan glanced at Conar. Shrugging, he drew Liza's trembling body closer, then kissed the top of her head.

"Well, I love you, too, little one," he joked.

It was the last thing Conar heard him say.

With an earsplitting crack, the rock ledge sheared off from the rest of the wall. In horror, Conar watched Brelan and Liza plummet downward amidst rock and rubble. He dashed to the edge, peering into the violent tumult of heaving mist and water far below.

"Liza?" he questioned softly, expecting to see his beloved clinging to the rock face.

The walls of the Maelstrom rippled with jagged edges. The bubbling waters of the tempest lapped upward, spray swirling at the rim.

"Bre?" he asked, feeling his heart begin to pound.

A terrible ache began in his soul and his entire body went numb. He could not move, could do nothing but stare into the heaving waters, searching for any glimpse of Brelan struggling to hang on to Liza and make his way back to the top.

"Brelan?" he called louder, blood pounding in his ears. "Brelan, where are you?"

He began to pant like a winded stag, his breath coming in short, painful spasms to his bruised lungs.

"Brelan, answer me!"

The Maelstrom roared, and the rock beneath Conar's feet rumbled ominously. He staggered against the tremor and almost fell into the gaping hole. With a gasp, he moved back, squiggles of light playing at the edges of his vision.

"Beloved!"

Conar experienced the single word in the very depths of his being. It sounded forlorn, infinitely without hope. It reverberated through him like the seismic shifting of the rock beneath him.

Suddenly, he felt something pull free of him, jerk out of him as though he were being torn in half.

"No," he whispered.

His numb mind fully registered what was happening, understood that the power that had dwelt in him since his conception, magnified with Liza's coming, been an extension of their love, fed him and cared for him and
made
him, was leaving.

"No," he spoke again, louder, more forcefully.

He sank to his knees, stretched out on his belly, and tried to see past the swirling waters. "Liza, help me! Liza!"

It came as a sigh, boring gently through his brain and traveling swiftly to his heart--"Goodbye, my heart."

He felt the remainder of whatever had been inside him flee on a rush of breath. "Nooo!" he screamed into the chasm, his loss settling on his shoulders like a rock.

He would have flung himself into the evil chasm had not one of the Outer Kingdom warriors--those never seen, shadowy creatures who were never far from his back--grabbed his legs.

"Nooo!"

Conar screamed that one word repeatedly as men began pouring into the cavern. Their faces blanched white at his wild, keening shrieks of denial. He struggled to free himself of the Outer Kingdom warrior's hold, then Shalu's, then Sentian's, then Thom's. The piteous bellows pouring from his mouth filled his mind. "You can have the gods-be-damned power! I don't want it! I never wanted it! Just give her back to me!"

His only answer came from the crashing thunder of the Maelstrom.

"Nooo! Don't take her away from me again! Not again! Sweet Alel, please! Please! Nooo!"

He spat.

He twisted.

He snarled and cursed.

He fought like a demon from the Abyss.

"Liza! Come back! Don't leave me!"

He began to convulse with his agony.

"Brelan!"

Mindless in his grief, he clawed at the edge of the Maelstrom, his fingernails shearing away as he grappled to gain purchase on the stones. Blood sprayed from the ravaged fingertips, but still he clawed. He shrieked as Thom and Sentian pulled his hands free.

"Let go of me!" he screamed, bucking in their grasps. Tears streamed down his cheeks and his hair blew wildly in the force of the Maelstrom's wind. "Let me join her!"

Shalu took Conar's chin in a firm grip. "You can not help them now."