HELL OF A TIME
ALARIC MAER
Leaning forward, I let my forehead knock against the rough surface of the
table with a dull thunk. "I'll go myself," I grumbled, the words half
smothered by the wood. "We're pissing in the dark, here."
"That's a horrible idea," Darrin answered matter of factly. The others
quickly echoed the sentiment. "We don't know how close to Taegrin
Caelum your people managed to get before disappearing."
I knocked my aching skull against the table a second time. "We should
know more shortly, then I'll go. Without contact from Dicathen, seeing
inside Taegrin Caelum might be our only way to know for sure." I sat up
straight, and the world wobbled drunkenly, which was incredibly ironic
considering that I myself was stone-cold sober.
Looking around, I took in the fifteen or so people gathered in the secondfloor study of a stately townhouse that overlooked Cargidan's main
thoroughfare. Some were keeping up a pretense of staying busy and not
outwardly paying attention to my conversation with Darrin, but all their
ears were conveniently turned in our direction. Most didn't bother to hide
their attentiveness, waiting with nervous eagerness to be involved, one way
or another.
Not one of them looked particularly enthused by the idea of me limping
off into the Basilisk Fang Mountains to see why our people kept
disappearing around the fortress of Taegrin Caelum without so much as a
bloody trail of offal to follow.
"What? You don't think I'm up to it?" I growled, meeting eyes two by two,
then smirking in grim satisfaction as they fell or turned away. All except
Darrin. I waved him off, reached for the flask on my belt, stopped short,
and then rapped my knuckles against the wood before me. "Bah. Go home,
Darrin. There's nothing for you to do here, and your peck of orphans will
be missing you."
Darrin's face fell, and I felt a flush of guilt and regret rise up my neck.
Most of those in Darrin's care were the children of mages who had either
been in Dicathen already or were sent to Dicathen in the most recent attack.
To hunt down Arthur Leywin. With no communication from Dicathen—
and few enough soldiers returning—we had no way to know how many of
their bloods survived.
"Too many ascenders have been swallowed up into the belly of this war,"
Darrin said softly, looking at the floor. "Between those who went with
Seris, those conscripted to launch this failed attack, and those still suffering
the aftereffects of the shockwave, all of Alacrya has ground to a halt. Those
who are left need help."
A movement in the shadows behind the others drew my attention. The
specter of my former commander stood with her arms crossed, her face
hidden by shadow and the golden hair that fell half across her face. I
swallowed heavily, took a stuttering breath, and then stood suddenly,
nearly knocking my chair over. Turning my back on the specter—and
everyone else in the room—I moved to a window overlooking the street.
The usually busy road was empty. Highblood Kaenig had declared martial
law in Cargidan in the hours after the shockwave, cutting off all unofficial
travel, shutting down the Ascenders Association and Central Academy,
and consigning residents to their homes except for essential workers. There
had been rumblings of a minor rebellion, but the appearance of Scythe
Dragoth and a retinue of soldiers, mages, and Instillers silenced any
willingness among the population—mostly weak mages or unadorned—to
challenge the highbloods. Dragoth and his retinue had taken over Central
Academy and had so far been very aggressive about allowing anyone else
within a fireball's throw of the campus.
But they'll get in. I'm sure of it.
As if the thought conjured him, a reedy little stick of a man, drowning in
unkempt robes, appeared at the end of the street, sprinting up the street like
there was a pair of shadow panthers on his heels.
He was alone.
I cursed.
One of our enforcers, a rugged bruiser named Akron, rushed to the window
and looked out. He cursed as well. "Everyone wrap it up! There's a decent
chance this location is blown."
"Saelii, start clearing the building," I barked, already hurrying toward the
stairs down to the first floor. "Akron, Vaalish, your teams with me."
Catching Darrin's eye from the corner of my own, I added, "And you, get
the abyss out of this dominion. Go home, Darrin. I mean it."
If he answered, I didn't hear it over the stomping of many sets of feet on
the stairs and the hammering in my head. I was across the house and
crashing out the front door and into the street in moments.
Still halfway down the block, Edmon of Blood Scriven—a shady little man
who had acted as my backdoor into the academic circles—screamed when
he saw me appear. A couple hundred feet behind him, four Highblood
Kaenig soldiers gave chase. Even as he turned to glance desperately back
at his pursuers, one of them raised hand, and mana flared.
The shadows in the street were growing long as the sun moved into the
west overhead, and suddenly those shadows flared with green light.
Radiant ooze splashed across the paving stones, sizzling and popping as
they ate into the road and the mana shield that had enveloped Edmon at the
last second. The Shield beside me had sweat running down her face as she
fought to hold off the potent attack.
"Sir?" Vaalish asked, his voice lisping through his scarred lips. I met his
one good eye and nodded.
A sharp pop sounded amidst the pursuing mages, and they all hit the
ground, shouting in pain and covering bleeding ears with their hands. The
air around them distorted as Akron's crest activated, pressing heavily
down on their chests with a combination of dense air and enhanced gravity.
Conjured shields caged them in, blocking their last few futile spells until,
one by one, their eyes rolled back in their heads and they passed out from
lack of oxygen.
Edmon stumbled to a stop in front of me, his hands on his hips and his
head thrown back as he sucked desperately at the air. "Th-thanks," he
choked out after a moment.
I glowered at him. "Where's the Severin boy? Tristan?"
He blanched, taking a half step back. "They caught us, Alaric. We ran for
it. I just barely made it over the wall, but the boy…" He trailed off, refusing
to meet my eyes.
I glanced at the surrounding buildings. A few faces were already pressed
against windows to watch the commotion. Turning to Akron and Vaalish,
I said, "You know where you need to be. Go." Darrin was standing in the
doorway to the townhouse we'd just evacuated. "I said go home. You've
a bunch of potential orphans who need you. I'll be in touch."
Grabbing Edmon by the collar of his shirt, I hurriedly marched him to the
closest alley and shoved him into it. "If they're not already on the way,
reinforcements from Highblood Kaenig will be soon. Or worse. Was there
any sign of the Scythe? His retainer? Nevermind. Let's get moving. We
can talk when it's safer." As I finished speaking, I heard footsteps
following and turned back.
Darrin pulled a hood up to cover his features as he ducked into the alley
after us. "I still have a couple things to do in Cargidan before I head home."
I chewed the inside of my cheek and fingered the flask at my belt. "No. I
won't be responsible for telling that foster kid of yours that you got
yourself caught or killed being obstinate."
Darrin's brows raised, and he gave me a tight-lipped smile. "You'd know
all about being obstinate, Al. Why are you still carrying that flask around
if you don't want to drink from it?"
"I need to be myself," I said under my breath. Carefully not to look at the
shadow of the woman standing beside Darrin, a small squirming bundle in
her arms, I added, "I need to be more than the drunken ascender I've been
for these last decades…"
Darrin's mouth opened to reply, he didn't have the words.
Sighing and flexing my shaking hands, I considered how best to get rid of
Darrin, but I had to be careful. I checked the windows and corners to ensure
we weren't being followed by anyone else, then turned and went down
another alley. After a couple more hurried turns, I knew that any lookyloos who might have watched us leave the fight wouldn't be able to see us
anymore, even if they'd hurried through one of the buildings on this side
of the street to try and keep track of us—and win some favor from Highlord
Kaenig or Scythe Dragoth for their efforts.
Fumbling with one of the buttons affixed to my leather wristguards, I
activated it and called on an item within the attached dimensional space.
A fancy silver necklace appeared in my hand. It was feminine and far too
dainty to look natural on anyone but a highblood lady, but I hadn't exactly
been able to choose the design. I pressed the necklace into Edmon's hands.
"Put this on. Now," I growled when he started to question me.
"What good is hiding my features now?" he complained. "I never should
have agreed to…" He trailed off, and the apple of his throat bobbed as he
swallowed hard before fumbling to get the dainty jewelry around his
scrawny neck.
"Oh, hurry up!" I snapped, looking around again. Mana was pumping into
my ears, enhancing my hearing as much as I was capable. I thought I could
hear armored feet pounding down the street quite a distance away.
"Here, let me," Darrin said, giving me a look and helping Edmon fasten
the necklace.
Once it clipped around his neck, there was an immediate pulse from the
mana contained inside it, and the features of Edmon's face seemed to go
kind of blurry and indistinct. Depending on the angle I looked at him from,
he could have looked like a dozen different people. At a glance, no one
would be able to recognize him or properly describe him afterwards.
Taking a heavy cloak from my dimension artifact, I pressed it into him
hard enough to knock him back into the wall. "Wrap yourself up, be quiet,
and follow me." I turned, set my jaw, I looked hard into Darrin's eyes.
"We need to split up. You go that way, we'll go this way." I gestured with
my thumb.
Darrin shook his head, his arms crossed over his chest. "Stop trying to be
so damned self-sacrificing, Al. If we get tangled up with a patrol, you'll
need someone who can actually fight." He carefully avoided looking at the
blurry Edmon beside me.
"Damn it, boy, you'll only draw extra attention to us!" I snapped, panic
building in my guts. "Go that way. Circle back around and head to the
library. It's shuttered, but a couple of the guards on duty respond well to
bribes. Keep trying to follow us, and I swear I'll knock you on your ass."
Darrin's jaw fell slack, his eyes as wide as if he'd just seen a woggart
playing Sovereign's Quarrel. I turned my back on him and marched
quickly away. Edmon hesitated only a moment, then began to follow. We
kept mostly to the alleys, at least in the beginning, but we were soon forced
onto the larger roads. While the empty streets meant a lot fewer eyes to
avoid, it also meant there was no crowd to blend into. Even if passing
guards couldn't identify Edmon, they'd surely recognize that something
was wrong, or clock us just for being outside.
"So? What's happening at the Academy?" I asked under my breath when
I thought it was safe to talk.
Edmon, his blurred face barely visible beneath the deep hood, cast about
nervously before replying. "All of the Instillers and staff that have been
trickling into the city from Taegrin Caelum are holed up there, as you
thought. I would go so far as to say they're imprisoned, really. Dragoth is
working hard to ensure that word of what's happening doesn't leak out into
the populace."
"And were you able to find out anything about what's happening?" I asked.
"Apparently, part of the fortress collapsed when the shockwave happened.
After that, the fortress itself seemed to…turn against its inhabitants. Friend
or foe alike. Many, many dead."
"And the High Sovereign?"
There was a long pause. I grabbed the sleeve of Edmon's shirt and pulled
him closer. "Were you able to learn anything about Agrona?"
Edmon cleared his throat nervously. "It's only a rumor…"
"By the High Sovereign's inflamed arse, Edmon—" My words cut off as
I saw the lithe silhouette of my commander's specter half hidden in a
nearby doorway, face in shadow as it was framed by her hair. Distracted,
I thought about exactly how long it had been, wondering if her hair had
actually sat that way on her face, or if I had simply made it up as my tired,
sober, brittle old mind manifested the dead woman as if she were really
there.
Edmon failed to notice the direction of my gaze. "Apparently a few of the
mechanical recording artifacts around Dicathen are still operational." He
hesitated again, his expression muddled by the disguising artifact. "One of
them was collected by a Wraith, who returned it to Alacrya. Only a few
saw its contents."
I waited, growing increasingly irritated with Edmon's beating around the
bush.
Perhaps he noticed, because he hurried onward. "Almost everyone who
saw the recording was killed."
"Then how does anyone know what was on it?"
"Because one of the Instillers responsible for reviewing it fled before
Dragoth caught wind of this all," Edmon said. His brows rose, and he gave
me a meaningful look.
"Do these rumors suggest what's on this recording?"
Edmon's answering smile was strange on his nebulous mug. "Only that it
proves that the High Sovereign is gone for good."
My mind was racing as I redrew my plans on the fly. This gambit had
already been reckless, but if Taegrin Caelum really was inaccessible, even
to a Scythe, and there was proof that Agrona was dead or captured…
It has to be worth it.
I led Edmon off the street and around the back of a closed-up accolades
shop. As I channeled into the mana lock, the door opened from the inside.
I had only a moment to take in a man in black and crimson plate armor.
One short onyx horn stuck up from unkempt hair above a bright red eye,
while no horn was visible on the other side, where the eye was a murky
brown.
Suddenly his fist was wrapped in the front of my shirt, and I was flying
forward. I had just enough time to protect myself with mana before I
smashed through the shop's front window and went sprawling across the
street.
With a moan, I lifted my head from the paving stones and brushed glass
out of my beard. A little bell rang, and the front door of the shop opened.
The Vritra-blooded man dragged Edmon through it. He stopped in front of
me, staring down a beaklike nose.
I trembled with pain and rage. One scarlet eye, one brown eye…
I spit blood at his feet. "Wolfrum of Highblood Redwater." Traitor and
double-agent. I'd heard of his treachery, how he had nearly captured Lady
Caera, but I hadn't seen him in this form, only as the bent-backed little
weasel that had been his cover, and I hadn't immediately recognized him.
The ghostly vision of my once-commander, now leaning against the wall
behind him, gave me a sad look and an apologetic shake of her head,
almost as if she regretted not being flesh and blood so she could help me.
The sun was behind me, only just peeking over the distant rooftops.
Conditions weren't ideal for any of my magic, but I couldn't let him take
me in without a fight.
In Wolfrum's grip, Edmon began to shake and wheeze. "P-please, he made
me, I didn't have a ch-choice! I can tell you whatever you want to know,
just don't hurt—hrk!"
The silver necklace constricted rapidly, choking off Edmon's words before
sawing into his neck. Blood ran hot and thick down his chest as his face
came clearly into view. He stared at me, horrified and confused, his white
lips moving wordlessly.
Sorry Ed, I thought, retracting my mana from the artifact, which assured
anonymity in more ways than just hiding one's face. As Wolfrum regarded
the dying man with surprise and irritation, I took advantage of the
distraction to begin channeling my emblem, Sun Flare.
The Vritra-born dropped Edmon unceremoniously on the street. "And the
commoners think we're black-hearted," he said, turning back to me with
one brow raised.
Mana rushed into Sun Flare, and the glare of the sun blazed across the
street, turning the entire sky white. Wolfrum hissed and raised a hand over
his closed eyes.
Activating Myopic Decay, I focused it on my own eyes instead of my
enemy's, dimming my vision against the glare as I scrambled to my feet
and made a run for it. Something hit me from behind, lifted and spun me
in the air, and slammed me down again. I was vaguely aware of bouncing
a couple of times before I came to blessed rest, unmoving. I knew that, this
time, I hadn't escaped unscathed, but as long as I didn't move, I wouldn't
feel all of the pain quite yet.
"Hell of a time to quit drinking," the shade of my commander commented,
leaning down beside me.
"Hell of a time to be dead," I shot back breathlessly.
Both my spells had faded, and I expected Wolfrum would be satisfied with
my attempt to run. Instead of approaching me, though, he gave a grunt of
effort, and there was a dull rush of air.
I jerked over onto my side, my entire body raw and bruised, but I barely
felt it past the roiling of my insides and the clenching of my heart.
Darrin flew up the street from behind Wolfrum, blasting the Vritra-born
with a rapidfire series of wind-lengthened punches and kicks.
Filled with desperation, I sent out a sharp pulse with Aural Disruption,
focused on Wolfrum. He flinched, just missing with a jet of black flames—
soulfire—aimed at Darrin's chest.
"Damn you, boy," I grunted, heaving myself to my feet. Every joint from
my neck down complained, and I could feel a broken rib stabbing at the
soft tissue of my insides. Forcing the pain down, I reached for the third
level of Myopic Decay.
My body became a series of shadowy blurs. I stumbled forward, no longer
able to run or even pretend to. My entire plan had fallen apart between one
breath and the next. "Go, fool! I've got this…under control."
Darrin gave no indication he'd heard me as he danced around a series of
soulfire bolts carried on black lines of void wind.
From my dimension artifact, I withdrew a handful of paper-wrapped
capsules. Tossing them into the air, I released a quick blast of Aural
Disruption, destroying them. Thick smoke began to pour into the street.
Very fine, sparkling dust was suspended in the smoke, and I again poured
mana into Sun Flare. The dust shone like ten thousand stars, burning
through the smoke and making it impossible to see through.
Bending low, I ran toward where I could still feel the bursts of mana and
hear the hiss and pop of spells slamming together. Darrin was falling back
into the obscuring cloud, but gusts of void wind were wiping away the
cover as quickly as it could form. A black blade appeared in my hand, and
I imbued the charwood with as much mana as I could spare to focus on.
With a sudden burst of Aural Disruption, followed by a lesser casting of
Myopic Decay targeted at Wolfrum, I flew past Darrin as he deflected a
series of whirling skulls of fire and threw myself at his attacker. Wolfrum's
mismatched eyes narrowed in intense concentration, and a shield of black
wind wrapped around him. My blade dragged across the surface of the
shield, and our mana sparked and crackled as it fought against each other.
His proved the stronger, and my weapon failed to pierce his shield.
I pulled the shortsword to my side and fell forward into a roll, barely
avoiding a scything blade of void wind that cut the air behind me.
"Alaric of Blood Maer." The Vritra-blood's voice was like ice water in my
face. "You've been quite the irritant over these last months. You should
have quit while you were ahead. Sticking that bulbous red wart you call a
nose into Scythe Dragoth's affairs will be the end of you."
I was back on my feet, my blade held out in front of me. Behind Wolfrum,
the cloud was slowly starting to disperse, but I couldn't see Darrin. A
grateful breath escaped me. He'd escaped.
"Tell you what, boy," I said, releasing the mana channeling into Sun Flare
as the stone dust settled, no longer providing a surface to enhance the light
of. A hard box appeared in my left hand, which I kept hidden behind my
back. "The war's over. Your High Sovereign is probably dead, your boss
the Scythe was mutilated and embarrassed. My boss, much as she never
really was that, is missing and hasn't made contact with Alacrya since the
shockwave. Why don't we just agree to go our separate ways, aye?" I
raised a brow meaningfully. "This continent is hurting. How many mages
haven't recovered yet? Entire cities like this one have shut down. All we're
trying to do is get people back on their feet."
Wolfrum's face had settled into a sneer as I spoke. "The High Sovereign
will return, and when he does, we will gift him a mountain of skulls, which
is all that will remain of your traitorous faction."
I took a step back, my eyes darting around as if searching for an escape
route.
Wolfrum smiled. In his confidence, he relaxed. "Pathetic. I expected more
of a man trained as one of Alacrya's finest spies." His countenance
darkened. "Yes, we know who you are, now. It's impressive you managed
to survive this long. Like any old, sick dog, though, there comes a time
when you need to be put down."
His hand curled into a fist, and dark fire and wind began condensing
around him.
In the flames to either side of Wolfrum, the shadowy figures appeared
again. My old commander, the woman who had helped me escape my
service to the High Sovereign, stood to Wolfrum's right, the shape of her
flickering and dancing. To his left, the other woman. The one with the dark
bundle in her arms. My wife. My family.
"It's your funeral," I grumbled, although I knew the words were only that.
A burning skull large enough to swallow me whole coalesced around
Wolfrum before plunging forward, its gaping maw open wide. I tossed
down the mana cage I'd been clutching. The transparent mana sprang
upwards and folded out into a flat, transparent wall between me and him.
The skull struck it, and the barrier trembled.
With a burst of Aural Disruption and as much mana as I could manage into
the third level of my crest, I turned and sprang away.
The street in front of me exploded as a wall of black void wind ripped up
through the stones. I slammed hard on my back, the breath crushed out of
me by the blow.
Aching and breathless, I couldn't move, only watch, as Darrin appeared
from the high balcony of a nearby home, his body wrapped in windattribute mana. In the half second it took him to fall, a hail of blows struck
Wolfrum from behind and above, staggering him. Darrin struck the Vritrablood with a knee between the shoulder blades, driving Wolfrum to the
ground. Fists wrapped in cutting wind fell faster than my wavering, redstained vision could follow.
The giant skull of soulfire and void wind erupted. Darrin was lifted off
Wolfrum's back by a blaze of black fire, and the mana barrier shattered
with a sound like cracking stone. As if everything moved in slow motion,
I saw clearly how the black fire was drawn into Darrin's open mouth and
eyes, even into his pores. I felt the soulfire take root inside his core, the
spectral heat of it burning within him.
He struck the ground like a bag of sand, his body limp, his eyes rolled back
into his head.
With a rush of adrenaline, I threw myself back to my feet and stumbled
past Wolfrum, who was himself standing slowly, as if unconcerned for our
ongoing battle.
I barely noticed the screaming of my knees as I fell onto them beside
Darrin, gripping his limp hand in my own. "I told you to go," I moaned,
all my strength leaving me.
The shadow of my old commander knelt across from him. Her fingers
brushed across his cheek, not smudging the dirt and blood that stained him.
"Forgive me, boy," I choked out as the soulfire was burning away
everything that made Darrin himself. I sensed Wolfrum moving behind me,
but the danger he posed no longer mattered.
At the sound of my voice, some life returned to Darrin. He gripped my
hand, and his eyes found mine. They were full of dancing soulfire. He tried
to speak, but all that came out was a pained groan. His teeth clenched, and
his back spasmed. His hand was wrenched from mine.
The ghost of my commander shifted, suddenly in front of me. Her hands
cupped my face, and her piercing brown eyes burrowed into mine. "This
isn't your fault, Alaric. None if it has been your fault."
I let my head hang. "We both know that's not true, Cynthia."
Strong fingers took me by the hair and dragged me to my feet. "Pick up
your friend. So long as you don't resist further, I'll withhold my fire. Test
me, and he dies in an instant. In case you think that you might end his
suffering that way, trust me that dying by soulfire is not a fate you would
wish on any you care for, and in the end would only increase your own
suffering many times over."
I spat blood on the ground at my captor's feet, but I bent down to lift Darrin
as he commanded. "You don't know shit about suffering, boy. Nothing
you can do to me now can be worse than what you inbred Vritra dogs have
already done."