Shattered sunlight book.., p.64
Shattered Sunlight (Book Five of the Storm Below), page 64
Zori stood on the deck by the Golden Daughter.
The dark bile consumed Chaylene as she formed her pressure bullet.
Chapter Sixty
Zori watched helplessly. She stood on the stern deck, rooted to Theisseg’s side. The Golden Daughter sang, savoring the fires burning across the horizon. The destruction approached. Zori could peer through smoke. The Wrackthar charged for them.
“Firedrinkers,” Theisseg sang only for Zori’s ears. “The most destructive Blessing my Sister gives, and even it has practical uses. But look at it. Look at all those ships blazing.”
And they’re coming to burn this ship. To burn me.
Sails burst into flames on a Vaarckthian frigate off the starboard bow of the Sunrise. Zori was certain they would burn this ship and kill her. I’ll be free.
“Look at them. They think they are stopping me, but they are just hurting my Sister more. Every being killed in violence is another wound to Her, Xorale.” Theisseg’s voice sang louder. To the crew, Her song sounded encouraging, keeping them steadfast in the destruction burning across the sky. “They are a sweet holocaust for my Sister to weep over. Let them all burn, Xorale! So long as I have this ship, all the others can perish.”
In the sky above the escort ships, a pegasus circled. The rider wore red. In her soul’s prison, Zori frowned at that. The rider had a pressure rifle aimed down at the ship. A shiver ran through her trapped soul.
It’s Chaylene.
Zori relaxed. It was time to die. Whether by fire or her friend’s bullet, she would be free of her torment. Guts awaited her.
*
The Great Empty/Southern Ressel Mountains
The darkness swelled through Ary’s connection with Chaylene. Black winds swirled through his body, gusting, fed by the bleak emotions bleeding through their bond. Ary knew at this exact moment his wife prepared to kill Zori.
Good, a vicious part of Ary snarled. Let the sow die! She killed our child!
However, the emotions coming from Chaylene were dark, bile coating her soul, drowning her. The same darkness that had compelled her to drive him away. The self-loathing, the hatred. It was all boiling up in her again.
What if it destroyed her?
What if this time there was no escape from it? Not only would she feel the guilt of their child’s death, but the weight of killing Zori, her closest friend. Chaylene never had a girl she was close to growing up. Ary and Vel were her only friends, the only two children that would play with the daughter of the Vaarckthian hussy. She’d been shunned by the others, mocked for having dark skin.
And then along came Zori, who didn’t care about any of that.
It struck him at that moment. Chaylene had felt guilty for killing the Vionese sailor, a man who was helping to attack the Dauntless. Yes, he had been doing it under duress, but it still had haunted her. He’d heard his wife lament at how easy she killed. It scarred her soul knowing she could aim through the scope and slay another living creature.
Killing Zori would destroy her.
“No!” Ary shouted.
Esty jumped beside him. “Ary?”
All Ary could do was let Chaylene feel emotions. He focused on forgiveness. It was hard to drink down the syrupy emotion when rage choked his throat. Zori didn’t deserve any forgiveness. He would kill her. He would avenge their child. Chaylene didn’t need the burden of slaying her friend on top of everything else she’d suffered.
Forgive her. Forgive her. Forgive her. He concentrated hard on it.
The rage howled in him. The black winds ripped at his soul. He had to control them. He was finished being a slave to his anger. Lashing out had never helped. Fury had never solved any problems for Ary.
Only created them.
Forgive her.
*
Lrien Hold
Chaylene stared at Zori’s scarred face through the scope of her pressure rifle. The bullet formed in the weapon’s chamber. The black bile dripped through Chaylene, coating her insides, smothering her beating heart.
The woman who’d killed her child.
The friend who’d betrayed her.
Death.
She deserved death.
“Why should you live when my child is dead?” screamed Chaylene, her hands trembling, the scope dancing.
She drew in deep breaths, controlling Starwalker with her knees. Her mind worked through all the variables she had to take into account to hit her target. She was moving. The wind was blowing. Starwalker’s wings beating. It all had to be perfect so her bullet could find Zori’s brain. She exhaled a long breath to steady her hands. She waited for Starwalker to flap his wings as she readied to fire her bullet. Her shot would fly true.
Now!
Chaylene went to fire her bullet, but something stayed her. Something . . . bubbled out of the bile. Emotion welled in her eyes. Memories of the first time she’d met Zori, the small woman looking more a girl than an adult despite her scout uniform. She’d been grinning after she’d tried to claim Ary as her man. She’d then boldly declared that she and Chaylene would be friends.
Kill her! She deserves to die. She killed my child.
She was my friend. I thought I could trust her with everything.
And she betrayed me.
She saved my life. She let me go. She was sorry. She was so sorry.
Can what she did be forgiven?
“No,” Chaylene whispered, the tears burning in her eyes. She shook her head, struggling to gather herself.
Kill her! Kill her!
Her hand tightened on the stock of her weapon.
Forgive her . . .
Memories of Zori laughing, smiling, making jests at Velegrin, flying on Dancer and Starfire, Chaylene diving to save her before she fell into the Storm, hugging her after being rescued from the skyreef. On and on, the memories assaulted Chaylene.
Can I kill my friend?
The final memory knifed through Chaylene. Her stomach ached.
“Yes,” she growled and raised her weapon. She could kill her friend.
*
Heits galloped through the flames spewing from the side of the escort ship. Then he was past the burning hull. The Sunrise loomed before him, a massive storm cloud bristling with weapons. Sailors fired volleys of crossbow bolts. Marines discharged their thunderbusses. The converging Wrackthar died by the scores.
They kept on, racing to reach Theisseg’s ship. The Betrayer sailed on this vessel, come to finish what Her forces started the day the Storm had ended. What She’d begun the day She’d conjured the Murk. Wrackthar galloped from three directions, racing towards the ship at all altitudes, riding past burning vessels, leaving a trail of destruction in their wake. A thousand had charged out of Lrien Hold, and they were the ones who had survived to the eye of this Storm.
They would end it the way the skyers had always ended their Cyclones.
Snuffing out the eye.
Theisseg’s ship would burn, and She would know fear. Here, the miracle would be born. Heits believed it with a certainty so great, so powerful, that he didn’t feel terror as he galloped forward, crossbow bolts hissing past him. His wife sent arrows back, the Skydancers answering with their own rain of death. He wasn’t afraid because he’d survived this far. He was luckier than the others who’d died.
That was why he’d survived the battle on the ground, the gauntlet of the retreat, and galloping through the fleet. He was lucky because the Betrayed, Riasruo Herself, shone upon him. She would make a miracle through his actions.
“Lrien Hold!” Meirim screamed, drawing an arrow, nocking, firing.
The first Wrackthar reached the ship. The triangular sail attached to the bow sprint thrust forward before the behemoth exploded in flames. They leaped higher and higher. Firedrinkers charged along the hull, hands leaving behind lines of fire.
“For Metsak Hold! For my family!” Heits shouted, drawing a fireball. He threw it before him. The burning wool struck a sailor at the bow, his white shirt bursting into flames.
Beyond the sails, a radiance glowed. The Betrayer shone like She was the sun, deceiving the skyers like She had the Wrackthar and Kaltein of old.
Fire wreathed Heits’s hand as he reached out to set the Sunrise’s sails aflame.
*
The self-loathing rose in Chaylene as she fired. She hated herself even as the dark bile clenching about her heart wouldn’t let her do anything but kill her friend. The surge of Pressure into the rifle’s engine propelled the compressed air forward at great speed.
It streaked down with a hiss. A tear fell down Chaylene’s cheek as she watched her shot’s rippling wake through the scope, a faint line arching straight for Zori.
I’m sorry, but you killed my child.
*
At any moment, the pressure bullet would strike Zori in the head and free her from Theisseg’s torment. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see fire already engulfing the bow sprint. Sailors died as they defended the ship from the converging Wrackthar.
Aim true, Chaylene. Don’t miss.
A hiss cracked down at the same time Xorale moved Zori’s body hard to the right. It was a fast movement. Zori never could have moved the speed to dodge a pressure bullet.
But Theisseg could.
The bullet streaked by Zori’s head, the air rippling. Wood splintered behind her.
“Sniper!” Captain Lsuuvick shouted as Theisseg’s head snapped up and Her song changed.
To Zori’s ears only, Theisseg sang, “You send your wife to face me, Briaris Jayne! Are you still trapped in my Sister’s embrace? You must miss your wife so!”
The skin on Zori’s arms rose. Wind swirled.
No! Zori screamed in her soul. Flee, Chaylene! Flee!
*
Uickthio ducked low at the shout of sniper. Her eyes scanned the sky for the source of the attack, her heart beating fast. The sound of a pressure bullet was unmistakable even over the shouts of the charging Wrackthar and the crackling of flames engulfing the front of her ship.
In the sky, a pegasus flew. A scout who wasn’t attacking Fahnoff? Uickthio spotted the pressure rifle aimed down at the deck of her ship. Her shoulder crawled, memories of the war with the Autonomy writhing her skin. Her adjutant, Bthunrn Aavzuimnigk, had died from a pressure bullet.
She was just about to bark orders when Amiria’s song changed. The hairs stood up on the back of Uickthio’s arms and neck. A shudder went through her. Wind gusted across the stern deck, whipping at her red jacket. Amiria’s wings threw wide.
Lightning exploded from the Golden Daughter in every direction.
The bolts danced through the sky, reaching out towards the Wrackthar attacking the ships and the pegasus in the air. Powerful winds gusted from the Golden Daughter, driving cold rain that swept out of nowhere. Uickthio felt the air pressure change, her Minor Blessing immunizing her from the effect.
All of Riasruo’s Blessings surged from the Golden Daughter. Wind, Mist, Lightning, and Pressure. Powerful rains snuffed out the flames burning in the rigging. The sails all billowed taut from the sudden gale. The ship lurched forward. Ranks of armored Wrackthar crushed into balls of bloody pulp and twisted metal. Lightning smote more, sending them falling smoking while wind slammed into others, hurling them from their mounts.
Uickthio stared in awe at the Golden Daughter. She had seen her powers unleashed, but they had been nothing like this. Devastation cracked through the air. Destruction lashed the Wrackthar.
“Riasruo Above, thank you for sending Your daughter to guide us,” Xorale proclaimed, standing beside Amiria. The scarred woman didn’t flinch as bolts of white-hot lightning crackled past her face. “Thank you for your love! Thank you for bringing us to this place, to finally crush those vermin twisted by your dark Sister! The fire cleanses us all!”
“The fire cleanses us all,” Uickthio whispered in awe.
And then, in the back of her mind, a voice whispered: “Yes! Lightning. Pressure. Wind. Mist. These are things of the Storm. Of Theisseg. Like her! Think, Zori. Pressure. Wind. Why would Riasruo give us these Blessings? Why wouldn’t She give us Fire or Healing or Illusions? She is Theisseg.”
The young man who had shouted those words burned in her mind. Estan Bthoovzigk, a Vaarckthian from the Autonomy. A man at the heart of the resistance against the Golden Daughter. He’d stood up to Xorale before the entire city of Grush and declared Amiria to be Theisseg.
Uickthio glanced at the singing Amiria. The Golden Daughter exulted as she threw destruction. She had become a storm.
With a surge of self-hatred, Uickthio beat those thoughts down and forced herself to stand before the Golden Daughter. Before Riasruo’s daughter. She has to be Riasruo’s daughter. She forgave me for all those I killed in the war, all of Riasruo’s children dead because of my commands.
She forgave me for getting you killed, Bthunrn.
Amiria could not be false.
*
A storm slammed into Heits.
Just as he reached out to light the sail of the Sunrise on fire, the world exploded into a maelstrom. Winds driving icy rains slammed into his mount. His horse screamed in fear, rearing. The wind caught them. The world spun around Heits, his shouts lost to the gale.
The deck rushed up at him. He raised his right arm instinctively.
Pain exploded as he crashed into the deck. The bones of his forearm snapped. He grunted, his armor clattering as he rolled across the storm-lashed deck. Sailors fell to the ground around him, knocked down by the driving wind. Rain crashed into his armor and stung his face as he rolled to a stop.
He screamed as he tried to move his right arm. It lay mangled, the armor plates twisted. Through gaps, he spotted white bone jutting through bloody flesh. His right hip throbbed, and agony knifed up his side towards his heart.
In the air, Wrackthar died.
Some were compressed into balls of metal and flesh, squeezed down with their mounts until they were the size of a ballista shot. Wet flesh struck the deck and burst into bloody offal. Others were struck by lightning, knocked sizzling from their mounds. More were caught by the same powerful wind that slammed into Heits.
“No,” he sobbed.
An ebony sailor, who looked very much like Heits’s father, scrambled across the deck clutching a knife. Rage burned in the man’s eyes.
Despite the pain threatening to drown him in darkness, Heits shoved his left hand into his satchel. He grabbed his last fireball. It burned despite the howling wind and rain. He threw it at the sailor, striking him in the face.
The effort almost overwhelmed Heits. He collapsed on his back, grunting through the pain. Above, horses ran riderless, galloping in the driving wind. Other Wrackthar fled, lightning pursuing, striking some while others were crushed by invisible hands. The hundreds of Wrackthar who charged the Sunrise were already reduced by half.
“Heits!”
A horse galloped across the rainy deck. Meirim raced towards him, her arm extended down. With a grunt, he thrust his left arm up. She grasped him. With a heave that shocked Heits, she pulled him up. He gaped, guessing she drew on the mad, insane strength that only desperation can summon. Heits used his broken right arm to hook her saddle’s pommel and heave himself upward.
Agony screamed through him. The world spun as he slumped over the front of her saddle. Lightning and thunder cracked and boomed. Winds howled. Darkness crashed down on Heits, his body battered and broken by his fall.
*
Relief surged through Chaylene when she missed. By pure coincidence, Zori had stepped aside at the last moment. Chaylene’s hands shook. She fought the urge to form another pressure bullet.
Theisseg’s head snapped up. The Golden Daughter stared right at Chaylene. A surge of fear knifed through her. There was murderous hatred in that gaze, an anger that formed a maelstrom so black and so vast it dwarfed the little squall of rage brewing in Chaylene’s heart.
Without thinking, Chaylene hugged Starwalker and screamed: “Dive!”
His wings folded close. They dove for the ground. Lightning crackled through the air. She felt the heat of its passage hiss behind her. The crack of thunder struck her like pummeling fists. She screamed but couldn’t hear her own terror over the lightning arching through the skies trying to kill her.
She plummeted past the sails of a Vionese frigate escorting the Sunrise. The lightning struck through the rigging. Flames burst as Theisseg set Her own ally on fire to kill Chaylene. She hurtled towards the ground, picking up speed. Wood cracked and splintered. The frigate rocked from the force of Theisseg’s lightning trying to reach Chaylene.
Ary’s face rose in Chaylene’s mind. She squeezed her eyes shut and concentrated on him. I love you. I’m sorry. I love you. I’m sorry.
She hoped he could feel her love a final time before the lightning found her. Starwalker fell past the ship. From above, screams of the frigate’s crews rose. Wood fell with her. She opened her eyes, shuddering as she dove below Theisseg’s line of sight. A violent tremble rippled through Chaylene’s body. Above, the frigate twisted in the air. Cracks and snaps echoed. The planks of the hull ripped apart.
That’s the Adventurous, Chaylene realized as the ship broke in half.
The bow of the Adventurous plunged like a knife for the ground, falling as fast as she was. Chaylene’s eyes widened. She snapped her head around, staring at the explosion-torn ground below littered with the bloated bodies of dead soldiers, Humans and Gezitziz both. She flared her Pressure, hauling up on the reins.
Starwalker neighed in pain. His wings flapped hard as the ground rushed up at them. Chaylene’s stomach sank as her body pressed into the saddle. She surged more Pressure beneath his wings, giving him as much lift as possible.
The reek of offal, blood, and mud assaulted her nose as, with a loud whinny, Starwalker pulled out of the dive. She skimmed over the dead of the battlefield, flying east away from the fleet. A loud shout burst from her throat.
She’d survived.
