Shattered sunlight book.., p.77
Shattered Sunlight (Book Five of the Storm Below), page 77
She and Chaylene can explore it together on Starwalker.
He closed the distance. He felt the Sun Lance behind him, absorbing the song, preparing to discharge another blast of energy.
Lightning crackled from Theisseg. Zori’s back snapped upright, her body rigid.
Ary drew in a breath. He’d made the right decision. The Storm Goddess had recovered. He gripped his sword, feet crunching on broken ground. I am a Stormwall!
The light shone brighter in him. Heat boiled the air around him. Summer armed him against Theisseg’s winter.
*
Zori’s back arched as lightning crackled across Theisseg’s feathers. Zori screamed in her soul. Theisseg slammed Zori into her prison. Xorale took control. Zori’s metaphysical fists beat with impotent fury at the bars of her cell.
So close! I was so close! I had you!
Theisseg’s beak clucked. “My sweet Xorale, you should know that you can’t kill me. I am a Goddess.”
Zori’s body moved. She rose with jerking motions. Theisseg had control, but it was rough, not the finesse of before. The blast had weakened Her. Fending off the incredible energy of the enemy weapon had drained Her.
But it wasn’t enough. She lived.
Please, please, Riasruo, let me kill Her! You have to help! Don’t you care about us? Don’t you care that we’re dying?
“Theisseg!” a deep, male voice bellowed. A familiar voice brimming with rage and command. “Zori! You sow’s dung!”
Theisseg forced Zori to grab Zeirie’s fallen sabre. Her scarred hands clasped it and she whirled to face Ary. He towered over her the way Guts had, charging with all the fury of a Cyclone. His brown face was thunderous, blond hair tousled. Red eyes burned with fury.
He knows what I did to Chaylene.
“Ah, Briaris Jayne, I see you escaped my Sister’s tender embrace. So the scared birdie found a spine.”
Zori moved between Theisseg and Ary, holding the sword before her, slipping into a fighting stance. A chill ran through Zori. She struggled harder in her bonds as her body rushed forward to meet Ary’s charge.
“Defend me, my sweet Xorale,” Theisseg cried. “Cut down your treacherous friend. Butcher him the way you butchered his child growing in his wife’s belly.”
You conniving, filthy sow! Zori raged at the Storm Goddess.
She could never stand up to Ary in a fight without resorting to her greatest weapon—Major Pressure. Zori beat, ripped, clawed at Theisseg’s bonds as she felt the Pressure surging out from her, seizing the air around Ary.
She’d killed too many people this way.
Please!
Heat boiled off of Ary. The air churned, rippled, buffeting her Pressure, armoring him. Her power melted before it. Theisseg trilled a laugh behind Zori as Ary failed to crush down into a ball of ground meat.
“So my Sister girded you, Briaris,” Theisseg trilled. “Well, Xorale, my sweet, I fear our game is done. Defend yourself if you can.”
Suddenly Zori lurched. Theisseg had returned to Zori control over her body. Ary swung his blade down hard at her, the air hissing. Without thought, she raised her blade in a hasty parry.
Metal clanged.
The shiver of the impact rippled down her blade to her hands. Her grip wasn’t right, wasn’t sure. She gasped, her fingers going numb, springing open and dropping her blade. It landed at her feet.
Ary drew back his blade.
“I’m sorry, Ary,” she said and relaxed.
Ary lunged. The sharp sabre slammed through Zori’s breastbone. She felt the bones crack. The blade knifed into her lungs and nicked her spine before bursting out her back. He thrust so hard, the impact lifted her off her feet and drove her to the ground. The point embedded into the turf, pinning her there.
Ary stood over her, eclipsing the morning sun, a dark shadow wreathed in a nimbus of golden light. He bellowed wordless fury at her. Zori coughed blood, staring into his eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, to apologize.
Not that any words could ever undo what she’d done. Zori knew it. But she had to say something.
Only scarlet bubbled out.
*
Chaylene swayed, gripping her dagger, unsure what she should do. Zori was right there. Kneeling. All she had to do was run forward and kill the scarred woman. But the pain on her former friend’s face had her rooted to the ground. She clutched her stomach with one hand, the black fury in her demanding that she act.
But it was Zori. Her friend.
Rage surged through the bond from Ary. Chaylene’s knees buckled. And then it all happened so fast. Theisseg came awake, Zori grabbed the sword, and Ary pinned the small woman to the ground.
Chaylene stared at her husband, his face transformed into something ugly, something horrifying. She’d seen it a few times before. When he’d almost killed Grabin by throwing him off the side of the transport, when he beat Sharthamen half to death when the sailor boasted he’d bedded her, and when Ary beat Philosopher Duthan’s face into bloody ruin.
It scared her, frightened her, that her husband would look at Zori like that.
And exhilarated her.
Everything swirled in confusion in Chaylene. She didn’t know what to do, how to feel. She had every right to see Zori die for what she’d done, but Chaylene couldn’t forget how close they once were, how they could talk about anything. Once, while lost on a skyreef, Chaylene had wanted nothing more than to apologize to her friend, to beg Zori forgiveness for the terrible words she’d said.
“Ary,” Chaylene croaked as her husband wrenched the sword from Zori’s guts.
His gaze snapped up and locked on hers. She felt the full impact of the great rage swirling black through him. The vast thundercloud gusted with powerful winds. All it wanted to do was destroy. To rip and shred and spread chaos.
Her hand tightened on her dagger. “Kill her!”
*
Ary met his wife’s eyes as he wrenched free his blade from Zori’s chest. Confusion rippled out of her, eyes swimming with tears. The storm raged in him, demanding he finish the sow off, to cut off Zori’s head and ensure that his child was avenged.
But the emotions that poured off Chaylene struck his storm. Memories rose in Ary: Vel on a hospital bed, his stomach bandaged, dying. He’d begged Ary for forgiveness. They’d been friends once. Just like Zori and Chaylene.
Ary had turned his back on Vel in those final moments. He could have healed his former friend, he could have accepted that forgiveness, and he hadn’t. He made a choice to let Vel die out of a petty hatred, out of a desire for revenge. The destructive rage had won that day. Perhaps they could have been friends again. Perhaps they could have regained what they’d had as kids before jealousy clouded the air between them. Ary would never know. Death held such finality, an ending of all future possibilities.
Did he have the right to rob those possibilities from his wife? Zori had killed their child, but she’d been manipulated by Theisseg, poisoned, twisted, tainted. Maybe she deserved a second chance. Their child was dead. Nothing could change that.
“Kill her!” Chaylene shrieked, her face twisting in fury, becoming ugly.
She’s feeding on my emotions. My anger. Seeing what it did to his wife sickened him.
Ary dropped his sabre, bent, and touched Zori. Heat flowed out of him, a fraction of the vast sunlight Riasruo had gifted him. Zori’s eyes snapped open. Her body shook. In a heartbeat, he’d healed her wounds. He rose, facing his true enemy.
Theisseg.
He leaped over Zori and ran at the golden figure, who clucked in disappointment at him.
“So soft, Briaris. So foolish. I think it will be fun to make you kill your wife.”
“Riasruo Above, you are a pathetic thing,” Ary growled.
Chapter Seventy-Five
Chaylene scrambled to her feet and rushed to the coughing Zori. Anger boiled in her heart. He healed her? She couldn’t believe it. Ary just had to swing that sword and lop off Zori’s treacherous head. He could have just let her bleed out.
But he’d healed her.
That terrible rage from her husband thundered through her. She screamed out as she fell to the ground before the blood-soaked Zori. The scarred-faced woman struggled to sit up, her body shaking, eyes blinking.
“You were my friend!” raged Chaylene. “You were my friend and you killed my baby!”
She raised the dagger up over her head, aimed it point down. She screamed out murderous darkness, the Storm hammering her soul.
“I am so sorry, Chaylene,” Zori said, tilting back her throat, exposing it.
With a desperate cry, Chaylene slammed the knife down, but the angle of her attack changed. A last moment reprieve. The knife buried into the dirt beside Zori’s head. She leaned over, tears falling from her eyes, splashing on Zori’s forehead, pooling in the creases of her scars. Her entire body shook.
“Why!” Chaylene howled, letting go of the dagger. She seized her blonde hair, pulling, her emotions ripping her in different directions. “Why can’t I kill you? I tried! When I escaped the Sunrise! At Lrien Hold! I tried so hard to put a bullet in you! You deserve to die! So! Why! Can’t! I! Kill! You!”
“Because you are a better woman than me.”
The words slapped across Chaylene’s face. Then the boom of thunder slammed into her.
*
“Pathetic!” screeched Theisseg. She flapped Her wings, leaping back as he rushed at Her. “Pathetic! You had your chance to kill me, Briaris Jayne! You should have made your shot with the Sun Lance count!”
Electricity crackled through the air. It burst around Theisseg’s feathers, dancing across gold plumage. His stomach clenched. Ary threw himself at Theisseg, screaming out in desperate fury as She stared into the sky at the Varele.
“No!” he bellowed.
Lightning discharged from the Storm Goddess. A column of white-blue plasma, thicker than Ary had ever seen, erupted from Her chest. It crackled through the air over his shoulder. The heat from its passage seared his face. Skin cracked, charred beneath the intense heat. The thunderclap’s boom struck Ary like a blow. Cheekbones cracked. His neck snapped to the side. He lurched, spun by the mighty blast of energy. Grass erupted into greedy flames around him.
The heat surged through him, repairing his injuries as fast as they happened. His boiling eyes reformed. His sight surged back to him, skin regrowing, bones knitting in heartbeats. He was spun so violently, he could see the lightning arcing out, tracing across the sky.
Branches leaped from the main column, some striking into the ground, blasting new craters and setting fresh fires. But the main trunk zigged and zagged straight for the metal ship. The Sun Lance glowed crimson, building to its next attack.
But it would never fire.
The lightning bolt slammed into the Varele.
Ary’s heart seized. His cry of alarm died on his lips.
Instead of the electricity blasting apart the ship and raining molten metal across the battlefield, the Varele wavered like a mirage and puffed out of existence. A hundred ropes to the right, a twin appeared.
As Ary hit the ground, he understood. Esty had created an illusion of the Varele like she had at Ianwoa. She’d saved the ship from the attack. He grunted, rolling over onto his side, and gained his feet, hope surging through him as he rounded on Theisseg.
The false Golden Daughter sagged, wings dropping, head shaking.
“No!” She chirped.
Ary saw fear. Her wings flapped wide to wing to safety.
He tackled Her.
*
Esty screamed over the loud retort of the thunderbolt arcing past the Varele’s starboard side. She fell backward into Estan’s arms. He caught his wife, her body convulsing, her beaded braids flying about her head.
“Esty,” he gasped, stumbling back on the angled deck. He fell onto his back, holding her to his chest.
She convulsed in his arms. Spittle foamed her lips. Her eyes rolled back into her head, the whites showing. Blood trickled out of her nose, her ears. He wrapped his arms tight about her, fear squeezing his heart.
“Esty, no!” He kissed her brow. “Please, Esty. Say something.”
Her convulsions slowed, died. She lay limp in his arms. Once, her illusions had been struck by a lightning bolt from a thunderbuss. The clash of the opposing Blessings had left her with a throbbing headache for hours.
She’d felt the power of Theisseg directly.
“Please, no,” he groaned, trying to sit up on the pitched deck of the ship. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping at the blood leaking from her nose. The color drained from her face.
Tears fell from his eyes.
“Esty, don’t go. Don’t leave me. Please. Not again. Not after I thought I lost you once.”
The singing grew louder. The Sun Lance glowed brighter. He did not care.
His trembling fingers felt at her throat. A pulse fluttered. He felt a soft exhale of her breath tickle his cheek. She lived, but what damage had her mind suffered? More blood trickled out of her nose, her ear canals stained scarlet.
Fear held him. What if Theisseg had burned her mind out? What if she was left a husk?
“Esty.” His voice broke. “Don’t go. Please.”
The Sun Lance blazed.
Esty needed Ary. With a grunt, Estan pushed himself up, using Skydancing to help him stand. Then he limped through the air, walking off the pitched prow of the Varele, cradling his limp wife, his eyes fixed on Ary wrestling Theisseg to the ground.
“Ary!” he shouted, finding the courage to follow.
*
Ary bore Theisseg to the ground. She screeched as Her small body slammed into dirt, his bulk atop Her. Sharp talons ripped at his thighs as She struggled to rise. Behind him, he could feel the Sun Lance growing, swelling in power.
“Let me up, you damned fool,” She hissed. “Don’t you know who I am?”
“Yes,” Ary growled, the wounds inflicted by Her claws healing as fast as She ripped into him. The sunlight shone through him, out of him. “I know exactly what you are. Petty. Pathetic. Whining. You throw tantrums, Theisseg. You’re a child.”
“I am a GODDESS!”
Lighting, arching from Her feathers, surged into Ary’s body. Wind howled, ripping at his body. Pressure slammed across his body, trying to crush his flesh. Agony melted his bones. His flesh sizzled. Every nerve ending in his body lit up with pain.
He had felt this agony before when he’d grabbed Riasruo’s chain.
The sunlight in him warred with the storm’s pain. His flesh healed as fast as it sizzled. Crushed bones repaired, squashed organs knitted. His body was in flux, molding and malleable like clay in the hands of a potter. Only two different hands worked him, Theisseg trying to destroy him and Riasruo trying to preserve him.
He screamed out as he clutched his arms tight about the Storm Goddess. He just had to hold on. He had to pin Her in place. He couldn’t let Her go. But the pain. It was so much. It overwhelmed his mind. It drowned him in despair.
Must let go.
Can’t.
Please! Please!
Just a bit longer. It’s almost over.
“You stupid buffoon. You big, hairy boar! Why? Why do you constantly spit in my face? Why couldn’t you have just enjoyed the Gifts I gave you, Briaris Jayne? You could have been happy with that insipid woman you married! She could have whelped you dozens of children! All you had to do was love me!”
“How can anyone love something so foul as you! You can’t bully us into loving you! You can’t trick it, seize it, force it! Love can only be given! What have you ever done to earn our love, Theisseg? All you have given us is suffering!”
“I GAVE YOU LIFE! YOU AND ALL YOUR SNIVELING KIND! I SANG YOU INTO EXISTENCE WITH MY SISTER! I SENT YOU RAINS TO WATER YOUR CROPS! I KEPT YOUR RIVERS AND LAKES FED WITH FRESH WATER! I ERODED DIRT FROM THE MOUNTAINS TO GIVE YOU FERTILE GROUNDS!”
“You only give us suffering! That’s why we hate you, Theisseg. Your hails beat down our crops. Your storms tear down our buildings. You choke us with mist. You freeze us with snows. You send your rage beating down on us!”
“NECESSARY TO MAKE YOU STRONG!”
Pressure slammed into him from every direction. His flesh wanted to compact into a single point. Only the sunlight blazing in him kept back the force. Ary threw back his head, screaming in agony as Riasruo’s Gift dwindled.
“Fire!” he begged.
*
I’m free, Zori thought.
A thunderclap boomed. She rolled on the ground, bounced around with Chaylene. Heat seared through the air, washing over her like she broiled in an oven. She gasped as she came to a rest, her legs tangled with Chaylene.
“I’m free,” Zori laughed. The heat Ary poured into her had healed her body, repaired the ribs broken, the lungs punctured, the spine nicked. In a heartbeat, she’d been made whole, restored. Including her soul.
The chains had seared away beneath Ary’s flames.
Tears fell down her cheeks as she sat up and looked over at Ary. He wrestled with Theisseg on the ground, the pair thrashing, rolling. Electricity arced between them. Winds howled around them. The ground dented, deformed as immense Pressures swelled. Ary’s flesh rippled, compacting and expanding all at the same time, in flux between being crushed and exploding outward. Heat rippled off of him as he screamed out in agony.
“How can he take it?” Zori asked.
A crimson glow caught her attention. A ship, bow pitched down, hung in the air. Crimson light grew. They’re preparing to fire the weapon.
“Riasruo,” Chaylene groaned, sitting up, her face bloodied. She pulled Zori’s attention away from the weapon. “Oh, sweet Riasruo, the pain.”
Chaylene writhed and whimpered like she could feel what Ary did. Zori furrowed her brow, then remembered Chaylene feeling Ary being stabbed over and over months back. Their connection appeared even stronger.
Despite the agony, he lived.
Chaylene’s hand lunged out and seized her fallen knife. Zori gasped as Chaylene moved like streaking lightning. One hand seized Zori’s bloody jacket, pinning her to the grass, while the other pushed the dagger’s tip against Zori’s throat.
