The refugees?

  It made sense. They’d spoken of seeing the gods. The gods took on avatars, cloaking themselves in the guise of mortality. One of them was not what he or she seemed.

  He dismissed Vichak. That man was no god. The child too was of no consequence, nor their pet zombie. That left either the lady Serina or…

  What was the other man’s name? He’d been inconsequential, easily overlooked. Yes, he was the god.

  Now he was hungry. He would feast upon the god.

  “Come, Lillena,” he said, “We have purpose this day.”

  The woman emitted a high-pitched moan and stared down at the streets.

  Theondrin followed her gaze. Far below a small band of wizards had managed to barricade themselves in an alley using massive stones from the destruction of a neighboring tower. “Oh, very well. I can do this on my own.”

  She smiled and without hesitation, threw herself from the top of the tower. He almost hesitated. Her attack would be a thing of beauty to watch. He didn’t have time for such distractions.

  He pulled a crystal from his pouch and dropped it to the stone of the balcony. Focusing on his destination, he crushed it beneath his heel. The spell bent space, instantly teleporting him from the tower and into the forest.

  CHAPTER 36

  Lysa ran with her companions, tears freezing as they dripped from her chin. She didn’t care if the others noticed or not. She’d let go of the magic once they’d fled the city walls. She felt like a child again, the strength she’d possessed rescuing he brother slipped away, leaving her feeling small and afraid.

  She had lost Lara. The realization left a hole in her heart. Lara had become family. The betrayal of the wizards had taken away her new sister. She couldn’t save her. She couldn’t imagine what it would do to Dorian when he found out after she saved him.

  There was only Mykel and her now. She already knew that Taegar and Serina wouldn’t accompany her back to the Watcher. The wizard that had joined would not stay with them for long.

  They reached the edge of the forest, slipping into the trees and through the underbrush. It blocked the storm some. Everyone stood around shivering, except for her brother. They had the look of the defeated.

  Vichak stared back through the blizzard as though he could still see his home. His eyes were wide and haunted. “What do we do now?”

  “We stick together,” Taegar said, “And we keep moving. There’ll be cottages nearby, there’s got to be. We’ll find one to wait out the storm, maybe the winter. Maybe then we head for Doramwall, or maybe further south. Maybe the dead haven’t reached Harcove yet. Maybe they had enough warning.”

  “No!” Lysa, said, “It’s time to go back for Dorian. We got what we needed. I can free him now, I know it.”

  Serina knelt down in front of her. “We can’t. Dorian’s gone, your brother is dead. Lara… we… we found that out.”

  As Serina reached for her in what must’ve been her show of sympathy, Lysa backed away. “No, I’d know it if he were dead. I’d feel it. He’s still alive, and I’m going after him.” She puffed out her chest and wiped a fist across her eyes. “I will do it without you if I have to.”

  No one answered her. They probably thought they could force her to do what they wanted, except for the fact that Mykel would support her. As long as she had him, they couldn’t force her to do anything.

  This would be goodbye.

  The air shimmered.

  The attack came out of nowhere. The suddenness of the cloaked wizard’s appearance sent out a shockwave of air, blasting away snow and knocking all of them from their feet. Lysa found herself lying in a snowbank, nearly buried.

  She came up gasping and spitting snow and staring at something that was a mockery of life. She recognized the attire of Theondrin, though it didn’t look like him. Mad eyes within a bloody skull stared out of the cowl, and it uttered a sound too malevolent to be laughter.

  The first back on her feet was Serina. She charged the monster with her single blade, coming in low as though to dodge anything the undead wizard could throw at her. Instead the wizard raised its arms, and the frozen earth erupted beneath her, throwing her flailing into the brush and leaving behind rough, shattered ground.

  Even as the others recovered, the dead wizard’s hands moved rapidly, sending out blinding electric bolts. She heard Taegar and Vichak scream, though she couldn’t see them. Mykel took a bolt in the chest, and though he didn’t cry out, he dropped to his knees.

  Lysa held still, afraid to move. She wanted to call upon the magic and fight, but she didn’t want the creature’s attention. This wasn’t some type of reasonable human, nor was it some mindless walking corpse. As horrible as the dead were, the sentient madness of this thing terrified her.

  She had to do something. She sat up, and when the creature’s gaze fell on her, she backed up, seeing her death in its eyes. It would take nothing to call upon the magic, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

  It had to be Theondrin. He had become this monster somehow. Perhaps he’d always been, and was just now showing his true self. It didn’t matter. Even without calling upon the magic, she could see the incredible power the wizard possessed.

  The wizard dismissed her. It didn’t see her as a threat. It gestured, and Taegar floated into view. A fist of energy clutched him, and his feet dangled three feet off of the ground.

  If she didn’t act, Taegar would die. Maybe one of the others could save him. Serina could, she could kill anything.

  But the woman hadn’t reappeared. Neither had Vichak. Only Mykel remained, and her brother struggled to regain his feet. He wouldn’t recover in time.

  Taegar stopped in mid-air, hovering before Theondrin. The wizard brought him down until they met eye to eye, and asked, “What god are you? Reveal yourself.”

  Taegar? A god?

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “You might have fooled your companions, even the entirety of Levia. You destroyed my city when I took your dead thing. I almost didn’t see it. If not for your veiled threats, I might not have connected you to the chaos. Are you the Trickster? Perhaps Undeath. It would make sense, considering your company. It also explains the presence of the worm-eaters.”

  Lysa stared at Taegar, trying to see what Theondrin spoke of. If he were a god, why hadn’t he saved Lara?

  “If I were a god,” Taegar said, “I would have already killed you.” He didn’t look afraid, and stared at the wizard with contempt.

  “Still you deny it. Yet I can sense your power.” Theondrin reached out and grabbed Taegar by the throat. He dragged the man’s head down and opened its skeletal maw, bringing its teeth toward Taegar’s scalp.

  Mykel stood and growled. Theondrin paused, his teeth mere inches away. She detected it bringing in enough fire magic to incinerate her brother.

  Her brother didn’t move.

  The forest did.

  Branches whipped out, wrapping about Theondrin’s arms as the forest came alive. Being as one dead, its face could not register shock, but his spell failed and Taegar dropped to the ground. Theondrin looked from Taegar to Mykel and let out an unholy cry as it realized its mistake.

  “So,” Theondrin said, “You truly are something magnificent. And I am descended from your curse.”

  “As am I your death.” Mykel strode forward, snarling.

  Lysa got to her feet. Her brother gave her courage. She would stand by him, even if her knees kept knocking. The sorcery was there, waiting for her. She ignored the fire, choosing instead the darkness.

  Within the forest, the shadows were thick, further bolstered by the darkness of the storm as it blocked out the sun. She did not need gestures, nor did she need incantations. She only needed her will.

  Theondrin snarled back at Mykel as he approached. The wizard uttered a few words and its palms burst into flame. The fire cut through the foliage despite the storm. Mykel pounced, but it was already too late. Theondrin was free.

  The two grappled. Mykel’s teeth snapped at Theondrin’s face, but there was nothing there to bite, and his teeth glanced off of bone.

  Theondrin’s hands still smoldered, and it wrapped them about Mykel’s throat. Her brother’s dead flesh began to blister.

  “You can’t destroy me,” Theondrin said.

  “But I can,” Lysa said.

  She focused the Darkness into pure, raw sorcery and channeled it into the wizard.

  Theondrin threw Mykel aside. Her brother landed in the snow, unmoving.

  “So… much… power…” Theondrin gasped. Its eyeballs popped, replaced by flames.

  It threw back its head and laughed maniacally as she pumped more and more into it.

  “What are you doing?” It was Serina. She’d made her way back to the battle, though she had a bloody gash along her temple. “You’re making him more powerful.”

  Theondrin stared down at her and she almost faltered. It spoke, its words making the very air tremble. “Your attack only makes me stronger. I am evolving. I am a god.”

  “Stop,” Serina screamed.

  Lysa couldn’t. There was so much darkness, and she’d broken down a dam. The torrent was unstoppable. It channeled through her, leaving the ethereal and manifesting into pure sorcery. If she could form it into a spell she could control it.

  And it did not stop with Theondrin. The shadows darkened everywhere, turning what little daylight escaped the storm into night. The only light came from the flames burning within Theondrin’s skull.

  She felt like a doorway between worlds. At first it came through easily, but it began to scratch at the walls. She could feel it tearing at her soul. Theondrin began to tremble, yet even if her plan worked she realized she could no longer stop.

  Somebody was screaming. At first she thought it was Serina, but realized it came from in front of her. It was Theondrin. The zombie wizard fumbled with its pouch, managing to pull out a crystal with palsy-afflicted hands. It dropped it, and slammed a foot down on it. She witnessed the world fold before her eyes as the wizard broke off from the flow of darkness sorcery and escaped.

  Suddenly the sorcery had nowhere to go.

  The world lightened as the darkness no longer spilled into the physical world. Lysa dropped to her knees. Theondrin had escaped. She’d failed.

  Serina dropped down and embraced her. She had tears in her eyes. “You did it, you stopped him. You saved us all.”

  Vichak and Taegar were helping Mykel to his feet. She’d saved her brother. She’d saved all of them.

  “Come on,” Serina said, “Let’s find someplace warm.”

  Lysa tried to stand, and collapsed. The darkness within her continued to build. She tried to open her mouth but no words came out. Her body trembled.

  Mykel reached her. The flesh on both sides of his neck had burnt away in the shape of Theondrin’s hands. He gave her a smile that looked genuine, not forced.

  When she couldn’t return it, the smile fell away. “Lysa? What is it?”

  She focused on the words. It was difficult to form them. She didn’t feel pain exactly. It felt like insects were crawling over her skin, inside and out. “You… have to leave me. I’m… going to… die.”

  “No you’re not. I won’t let you.”

  “It’s… okay.” And strangely, it was. She didn’t want to die. There was still so much to do. She hadn’t saved Dorian. As the sorcery continued to build, she had no choice but to accept it.

  Vichak laid a hand on Mykel’s shoulder. “Can any of you sense it? Magic like I’ve never felt before. We have to get away from her.”

  Mykel slapped the man’s hand away. “Lysa? Is this true?”

  She nodded. She forced a smile, to let him know it was okay. “You… are not… a monster.”

  “Channel it into me.”

  “Too… much. It will never stop. Until…”

  “Then I’ll stay by your side.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  She could no longer control her body. A seizure struck her. Mykel caught her and held her tightly to his chest. She couldn’t focus on anything as the world shook. She tasted blood. As the darkness consumed her, she hoped that the others had left. She couldn’t tell him, but she was thankful for Mykel’s arms. She didn’t want to die alone.

  Her tiny frame shuddered one last time and the sensation of Mykel’s arms disappeared, consumed by oblivion.

  CHAPTER 37

  Theondrin stood within his chambers, trembling with more power. He had to purge it, he had to find a way. His legs wouldn’t move. It had taken every ounce of will he possessed to break away, because by the gods, he wanted more. Even now, dead, his hands trembled with longing like a vagabond addicted to sirenleaf. He had felt his form reaching its limitation.

  He couldn’t comprehend what the little girl had done to him. She had drawn in raw Darkness sorcery. Such a thing should not have been possible. He’d never heard of such a thing, and when it came to magic, he’d heard of everything. It filled his corrupt soul. He felt like he could do anything.

  “I am a god.” The very air trembled at the words. Reality trembled.

  But what could he really do?

  He uttered the words to a simple cloaking spell, bending light about his form, effectively rendering himself invisible. He could feel the magic in the air bend as his spell drew in more Darkness.

  Theondrin exploded. The ensuing destruction leveled his tower and those in close proximity as the sorcery purged itself back to where it came from.

  CHAPTER 38

  Mykel stared at his empty arms. He looked up as the other three approached. Mykel had said he felt nothing, that he didn’t feel any emotion. His face said otherwise.

  They looked defeated, though none of them had any visible injuries despite everything they had gone through. Serina covered her mouth with her hands, head shaking slightly. Taegar placed his hands on her shoulder. That gesture should have gotten him killed, instead she turned and buried her face against his chest. He wrapped his arms about her and buried his face in her hair, presumably hiding his own tears.

  “I know of a cottage nearby,” Vichak said, “It belonged to a carpenter. We should move before we all freeze.”

  “She’s gone,” Mykel said. He made no attempt to stand.

  Serina pushed away from Taegar and wiped her eyes. “We’ve failed,” she said, “I couldn’t protect her. I should’ve been able to do something.”

  “There was nothing any of us could do,” Taegar replied, “She saved us.”

  “For what purpose? How much more can we take?”

  Mykel stood. The others watched him like they would if they had suddenly found a sleeping wyvern in their midst.

  Taegar stepped between him and Serina. “Mykel, I need to know if you’re okay.”

  Mykel stared back, his dead face unreadable. “I thought she was my purpose. Am I okay? I am dead. My sister still gave her life to save me. I thought I was dead inside too, yet now I feel an emptiness that I can no longer express. No. I am not okay.”

  Wait… Were they talking about her?

  “I’m here Mykel,” Lysa said. She reached for his hand but her fingers slipped through his as though he was ethereal. He did not see her.

  Are they dead? Or is it me?

  “Mykel!” she screamed, “MYKEL!”

  He couldn’t hear her either.

  She patted her stomach and her chest. Everything felt solid and real. She still breathed. She could feel her heart racing. She’d never seen a ghost, but she didn’t think they still felt alive. She most certainly did.

  Lysa felt eyes watching her, and it didn’t come from her friends. To them she was a ghost, regardless of how real she felt.

  The world had changed. Had she done it with her magic? Colors looked different, they were purer. There were colors she had never seen before, or even had a name for. There had been a storm, she could see the snow upon the ground, but the sky was cloudless, with stars and planets seeming nearly as close as were the twin sisters, the two moons.

  This was not her sky.

  Her friends were disappearing into the trees. She ran after them, more afraid than ever to be left alone.

  CHAPTER 39

  Beneath a pile of debris, Perl hid from the dead. They were everywhere, shuffling through the snow. They had quit exploding, which meant that most of the wizards were dead or were hiding like him. The dead could be good hunters. He knew they had extraordinary hearing and could detect him if he made any sound louder than a whisper.

  Worse than the dead, his world had become a ruin. The world had been dangerous, but there had been a wall to separate the nightmares from safety. After the first few days following the day the dead came, he’d wandered about, searching for someone he knew, and then for anyone that would help. Eventually he took to stealing, and finally to braving the dead in the city of nightmares.

  There were so many of them suddenly. The homes where he’d hidden were destroyed. The city with its wizards was almost gone now. He’d barely survived the explosions. And though they had dwindled, the dead were everywhere.

  Something grabbed his leg.

  Perl twisted, kicking furiously. He’d been so focused on the streets, he couldn’t imagine that anything might’ve been in the rubble with him. He delivered two hard kicks into his assailant’s shoulder before his mind comprehended what had him.

  He stared at the tiny, grotesque creature. It wasn’t even as tall as he was, but looked as wrinkly as an old man, if old men had pointy ears, green skin and needle-sharp teeth. A goblin!

  After the second kick, the goblin fell back and gave him a look mixing anger with impatience. It didn’t make another attempt to grab him. Instead it pointed at the street, and then gestured for him to follow. “Come,” it said.

 

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