The tide of unmaking, p.8
The Tide of Unmaking, page 8
part #3 of Berinfell Prophesies Series
Asp’s pale eyes blinked once.
“Daughter, you have no place here,” said her father. “This is not some noble request for aid. Asp demands our assistance and threatens all of Taladair.”
“A threat?” Taeva echoed, her fingers increasing their speed.
“I cannot afford mistakes at this critical point,” Asp said, restraining his tone. “If Taladair will not side with me, then I must conclude that it stands against me. Add your blades to mine, or I will destroy this realm. And…take you.” His eyes seared into hers until she looked away.
After a moment, Taeva realized she wasn’t breathing. Her fingers stopped moving, but not of her own will. She looked down at her feet. Her legs seemed disconnected from her body.
“Father, I—”
“Not a word,” he replied. He spun back to Asp and said, “Taladair is its own. We are sovereign. We will never align ourselves with your bloodlust.”
But the statement was barely off his tongue when Taeva asked, “Would you vow to leave my people in peace if I come with you?”
“TAEVA!” her father practically gagged. “That is enough! This fool has the audacity to rappel into our sanctuary, demand our allegiance, and make outlandish claims that he can destroy our city with the swipe of his hand. Do not entertain him with vain pleas.”
Asp spoke softly, saying, “I accept your offer.”
“There is no offer!” the King blurted out. He thrust his sword forward, but Asp’s blades extended in a blink. He caught the King’s sword between two of his bony extensions, and in the flick of the wrist, he snapped off a foot of the King’s sword.
“Begging your pardon, your lordship, but I was speaking to your daughter.” Asp’s head moved ever so slightly in her direction. “If you come with me, I would consider sparing your people.”
“This is absurd!” the King took another step forward, but stopped, glancing down at his neutered sword.
Suddenly Asp’s eyes flared. “As we have spoken,” he growled, his words laced with fire, “a legion of my warriors placed arc stone charges along the base of your precious walled city.”
“Arc stones?” the King said. “These walls have endured arc stones before and with ease.”
“Not like these,” Asp said. His smile was half hidden by the helm, but ghoulish nonetheless. “I have journeyed far…far beyond horizons that you could imagine. And I have learned how to intensify the impact of a simple arc stone one-thousand fold. Your walls will crumble.”
“A thousand fold?” the King echoed. “That’s impossible.”
“Impossible for small minds like yours to imagine, King Silnoc,” Asp said, spittle flying from his mouth. “But seeing is believing, is it not? My soldiers are watching me from above. Should you and your guards somehow manage to fell me, they will set off the arc stone charges. If I return without your word, or your daughter, we will likewise set off the explosives. In either case, Taladair will come to an end.”
The King blinked at Asp, but his free hand drifted to his leg and the lethal dart sling holstered there.
“Do not test me,” Asp seethed. “Decide.”
No one moved.
“Decide,” said Asp.
Still the King could not speak.
Taeva trembled, hoping no one saw her. She stared at the frightening intruder. How could a bluffing stranger appear so confident? Unless…unless he could actually do as he claimed.
“DECIDE!”
Taeva stepped quickly in front of her father, blocking any clean shot. “I’ll go with you,” she said.
Before anyone could act, Asp grabbed her hand and pulled her to his chest.
“NO!” the King cried out, lifting his dart sling. His draw was fast. Against any other foe, he would have sent the dart shaft deep into his target’s eye, extending well into the brain.
But Asp was unlike any Silnoc had faced before. Asp swung his razor claws and severed the King’s hand at the wrist.
A beat later, a hundred tridents leveled against Asp, but he gave a single tug on the line running up from his harness. A second later and the pair shot skyward, flying up through the shaft of light like an arrow.
“AFTER THEM!” the King cried. “Archers! But don’t hit the Princess!”
Centurions launched a salvo of precisely aimed darts. But they bounced harmlessly away from Asp’s cloak or missed entirely.
In the blink of an eye, the King of Taladair had lost everything.
“LET ME GO!” Taeva demanded as she thrashed. “I never even said goodbye to my mother!”
“Not the most appropriate command, Princess,” Asp said, nodding downward.
Taeva gasped at the sudden height, and yet still struggled. But Asp’s grip was like slow-forged iron. Taeva realized coldly that escape—even to death—was impossible.
The wind sailed through her hair until they neared the dome’s ceiling. Their ascent stopped short of the hole that had been ripped through the top of the dome. A beefy hand reached down. Asp took it and he and Taeva were pulled topside, standing suddenly in the open air beneath a turbulent sky.
“Take her,” Asp said, shoving Taeva to a Gwar warrior clothed in battle gear. His one hand nearly covered her torso. There was only one other Drefid on the dome, presumably Asp’s right hand. Where was his army? Where were his explosives?
“So this is it then?” Taeva asked Asp as he turned away.
“What’s it?” he sneered over his shoulder.
“You were bluffing.”
Asp released a crackling, humorless laugh. “My dear Princess,” he said, staring her down with his fiery eyes, “know that my threats are never idle. Pity that history will not remember the once-proud Taladrim in this, the greatest conquest of all. But others will take their place. Others less proud, perhaps.”
Taeva’s heart flash-froze in her chest. “You mean you—”
Asp turned to the other Drefid. “Open the portal. Once we’re through, bring it down.” He looked back at Taeva. “Bring it all down.”
“NOOOO!!!” Taeva screamed, trying in vain to tear herself from the Gwar’s grasp.
Asp’s Drefid assistant produced a small chest. He flipped open the lid and pinched a few grains of a powder. These he sprinkled into the air. Sparks kindled immediately. The Drefid spoke words in a language Taeva had never heard. A circle of mist appeared, and a small cloud formation grew with astonishing speed. An aura of blue electricity flashed from within the growing circle of darkness, then stretched into a thin sheet of blue as the cloud formation grew in diameter.
“You should be grateful, Princess,” Asp said, without meeting her gaze. “I spared your life. And this is but my latest gift to you.”
“I want nothing from you apart from my people’s safety!”
“Disappointing,” Asp said. “Are you certain, Princess? Is there not something you would do with ultimate power?”
Taeva blinked back at the madman, her thoughts spinning into a long-hidden corner of her mind. She hesitated just a moment. A black instant.
“There is something…isn’t there?” Asp asked.
Taeva shook her head violently. “NO!” she screamed, her venom surprising all around. “Nothing from you! Keep whatever power you think you have!”
“You betray your heritage,” Asp said. “Your miscreant mother’s hopes will die with you.” He looked up at the Gwar guard. “Send her back.”
Stunned, Taeva cried out, “What?”
The Gwar carried her toward the hole in the dome.
“Wait,” Taeva said. She knew the rope was gone. Only a bone-shattering fall remained. “You can’t do this!”
“Your sense of authority is misguided,” Asp replied. “Titles mean nothing in this world. There is only power and blood. You have chosen neither.”
Asp looked to the other Drefid and nodded. The growing, miniature storm drew closer, as if he was pulling it in on a tether. The high winds felt as though they’d pull everyone off the dome. Thunder shook the air.
Taeva was three steps from being cast away. The sizzling blue screen of light hovered just a few feet overhead.
The Gwar stood ready to throw her in, then escape through what Taeva could only guess was a portal. But she was not going to die this way, thrown like a fish carcass into the middle of her own courtyard. No, she would at least put up a fight. And having been trained by the Taladrim Master of Arms himself, she could more than hold her own.
But this Gwar was her largest opponent yet. She could not best him with brute strength. She had only agility, surprise, and…a dagger.
In the split second it took for the Gwar to peel her away from his body and force her forward, she felt his grip loosen. Not enough to get free, but enough to shift her body. Which she did, twisting herself to the inside and faced him.
She slid the dagger from her boot and dragged the blade up the Gwar’s torso. The Gwar yelped and yowled, but Taeva wasn’t finished.
With blazing speed, she ran her feet up his legs, chest, and locked her knees behind his head. She went limp, her deadweight pulling the Gwar forward.
The warrior groaned, trying to jerk backward. But Taeva’s surprise had forced him to take a step. Then another. And before either of them realized what was happening, the Gwar’s third step was into the Taladrim world under the dome.
Swallowed by blackness speckled with torch fires that looked like thousands of stars, the pair tumbled through space, hurtling toward the courtyard floor. Now free of the Gwar’s oppressive grip, Taeva hammer-punched her foe in the soft part of the neck under the chin. With a two-fisted plunge, she slammed the dagger into the Gwar’s chest. The warrior flailed for the weapon, but Taeva held it firm.
Seconds from impact. And no ideas came to mind. At least she wouldn’t be a slave to Asp. The Gwar batted at her, trying wildly to tear her form his head. Taeva suffered a deafening blow to the right ear, but managed to stay clear of the menace’s clutches. Until she realized that was the opposite of what she needed to do.
Taeva quickly withdrew the dagger and tossed it away. Then she took the Gwar’s burly, armored chest face-on in a great bear hug. The warrior must have been surprised by the sudden posture change; he threw his arms around her and squeezed her against his torso as if he might break her back.
And that was the last thought the Gwar ever had. His massive back took the full force of the landing. Bones crushed, and a last violent blast of air shot from the Gwar’s mouth. The impact left a crater in the granite and shot bits of rock into the surrounding gathering of guards.
Taeva opened her eyes. The warrior’s arms lay across her, but tight only from their own weight. She could see dust in the air, and guards with torches walking toward her. They were saying something but her ears were ringing. She blinked. Their mouths were moving. Hands reaching. Then finally the ringing stopped in her left ear.
“Princess!” she heard them yell. She reached a hand out toward them. Someone peeled back the Gwar’s arms. “SLOWLY! SLOWLY!”
Taeva blinked again. Hands slid underneath her. That’s when she felt the searing pain in her ribs. She thought she screamed, but she didn’t hear it. Only more yelling from the men.
“CAREFUL! EASY!”
The next face she saw hovering over her was the King’s. Her father’s. She felt his finger tips move some hair out of her face. Her head throbbed. And the pain in her ribcage mounted.
“INSIDE!” his face contorted as he yelled at his men. “NOW!”
“There - there, Princess,” Louwin said, easing a glass of water to Taeva’s lips. “Drink easy.”
Taeva tried to sit up, but the burning around her upper chest became too unbearable. She winced, spat the water out, and eased back down onto her bed. She didn’t remember being carried to her room. Just falling. Falling. Descending into blackness with a sea of fire to swallow her below. “What…what is—”
“The doctors say you’ve broken ribs,” Louwin interjected. “You have massive bruising and need to stay put. But they don’t believe you’ve ruptured any vital parts. It’s a miracle really.” Louwin offered her a drink once more, but this time she kept a hand pressed against Taeva’s shoulder to keep her from sitting up. Louwin was young, but a studious learner, and took easily to her job as royal attendant.
“Where is Father?”
“I believe he sent the men to inspect the dome, as well as the exterior of the city.”
Taeva coughed, throwing herself into a convulsion.
“Princess?!” The glass of water fell to the floor as Louwin tried to steady Taeva. But still the Princess hacked, crying through the staggering pain, trying to catch her breath.
“EXPLOSIONS!” Taeva finally got out between coughs. The strong taste of iron filled her mouth.
“Princess, you’re bleeding!” Louwin withdrew a white handkerchief and cupped the Princess’ chin. But Taeva batted it away. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed. “No, Princess! You mustn’t move!”
“THE CITY! THEY’RE GOING TO COLLAPSE THE—”
The world seemed to rock sideways. Taeva and Louwin were both flung to the ground. Taeva cried out in agony, her ribs smacking into the granite floor of her bedroom, while Louwin screamed in terror. But the tumult was so loud neither girl heard the other, only the thunderous cacophony of explosion after explosion shaking the foundation of their city. Every glass window in her room shattered, furniture toppled, and belongings dashed to the floor.
Taeva was sure the tower would come crashing down with them inside. If she was going to face death twice in one day, she at least wanted to see what assailed her. She rolled over onto her stomach in anguish, then used her elbows to crawl through the glass shards to the picture window. She propped herself up on the ledge, now slippery with her blood, and caught her breath.
The walls that had shielded Taladair against rogue waves, storm surges and violent tempests…were disintegrating. Cracks like streaks of lightning, illuminated by daylight from without, splintered across the surface. And wherever the cracks intersected, huge sections of the wall began to fold in on themselves, plummeting downward.
Taeva watched on in horror, deaf and mute from the destruction unfolding before her.
Worse still was watching thousands of torch lights snuffed out, starting with those on the outside of the city’s circle. The lights were swallowed by a black carpet that spread quickly over the entire city. Every home, every fortification, every storefront.
The unthinkable had happened. The very thing that kept their city safe below sea level had become their worst nightmare.
Taladair was flooding.
Without the walls, the city would be swallowed whole. And there was nothing the Princess could do but look down in horror.
That’s when the sound of the wall shattering and the waves rushing in were met with something else, something even more terrifying.
A deep and arduous groan rumbled clear above her head. Taeva looked up to see the plates of the dome sliding against each other. They screeched and shuddered like metal armor binding around a soldier’s body in battle.
And then it all came down.
Taeva covered her ears, mouth agape and eyes weeping, as the walls and ceiling of her beloved city came crashing down onto her people. She screamed, but the deadly din around her was too suffocating for her to hear.
The sudden appearance of daylight blinded her. She tried to maintain her witness to the atrocities unfolding before her, but the light was too great. Taeva buried her eyes in the corner of her arms, blood dripping down her torso. The violent sounds reverberated throughout her room, and she waited for her tower to be struck down. It swayed precariously, battered by the ocean waters now teaming at its base. Surely the dome would pummel it into the rubble and burry her and Louwin in the watery grave of her people.
Taeva was thrown back from the window and landed on her back. She felt more glass bite into her flesh and winced.
The groaning again. This time, punctuated by sharp cracks. Her room seemed to spin. Bits of rock showered her body. Larger, crushing chunks crashed beside her.
More explosions echoed outside of her room. The smashing of stone, the grinding of metal, the roar of the ocean. And somewhere in it all she swore she heard the cries of people. Of children. Of mothers screaming after their babes. Of husbands calling after their wives. Or was she just imagining it?
It wasn’t until she heard Louwin whimpering somewhere behind her that Taeva realized the sounds were subsiding.
“Louwin? Are you still here?” Taeva asked. “Are—we still here?” The Princess slowly pulled her arms away from her face, now bloodied and drenched with sweat and tears. Even with her eyes closed the light was overwhelming. She gave her eyes a minute to adjust. Louwin was still crying somewhere in the room.
Taeva blinked. The roof above her head was half there; beyond the scraggly remains floated the whimsical puffy white clouds she so loved, gently slipping underneath a deep blue sky.
“Louwin?” Taeva coughed out. She looked around what used to be her room, now resembling a rock quarry more than it did a state room. Louwin was hiding under the Princess’ writing desk against one of the only completely intact walls. She looked all right. Whether she’d be all right was another question. Taeva crawled to her and tried to get her attention. But Louwin was shaking, eyes wide open, muttering something to herself.
“Louwin?” Taeva asked.
“…Take care, take care, yes, yes…that’s my assignment ‘mum…no, I’ll fetch more water…”
“Louwin, it’s me, Taeva.”
“…Yes, Taeva is in her room ‘mum…”
“Louwin,” Taeva said her name again, then grabbed the girl’s wrist. The touch sent a shock wave through the girl and she started screaming.
“DON’T TOUCH ME! DON’T TOUCH ME!” She flailed Taeva’s hand away and sunk deeper into the shadow of the writing desk.
“Louwin! You’re alive! It’s me, Taeva!” The Princess then reached up with whatever energy she could summon and grabbed Louwin’s face with two hands, forcing the girl to look at her. Louwin’s eyes went wild, darting around every which way.
