Spin of Fate, page 9
Still no change. Aina wobbled up the mountain, chunks of rock skittering in her wake until Meizan was sure she’d be the one triggering a landslide.
“Burn it,” he said, leaping down to her level. Ignoring her protests, Meizan grabbed Aina around the waist and hoisted her over his back like a sack of wood before sprinting up the slope of Merumarth.
It was a damn miracle they made the climb without incident. Meizan thought his head would explode, what with Aina’s screeching—Let me down, you lout, I can channel just fine—and Aranel’s whining—There is something amiss with the chitrons of this realm, they are a blight upon my soul. Meizan had come dangerously close to drop-kicking them both off the side of the mountain. The acrid fumes made it all worse, stabbing Meizan’s nostrils through his scarf.
Meizan dumped Aina on the rock once they’d scaled Meru-marth’s middle finger and peered over the inner edge. It was like staring down the throat of a fire-spewing beast. The hollow mountain oozed a ropy expanse of lava pricked with enormous bubbles. Every few seconds, a bubble would pop and send up sizzling orange droplets. Even Meizan’s scarf couldn’t block the oppressive heat that pressed upon his face like a branding iron.
“You call this a volcano?” Aranel asked weakly, keeping a safe distance from the edge.
Meizan turned from the lava pit and surveyed the forest below. Kaldrav’s troops scurried around Martharan like cockroaches. They had surrounded the forest on all sides but the north, where the sludgy waters of the Muzireni and its tributaries crawled across the land like a giant, ugly centipede. Meizan mapped out one path that would sneak them past the soldiers to the Balancer hideout and another that would lead him back to his clanmates.
They’d have to be quick, since the soldiers appeared to also be heading northward. Meizan could only hope the cockroaches cleared out before Taezur and the others were ready to travel, because there was no way in hell he was digging another tunnel.
“We’re crossing over and then climbing down the north side,” he said, scowling at the sight of Aranel collapsed on the ground. “Oi.” Meizan kicked his leg. “Get up.”
“I’m exhausted,” Aranel said, amidst a fit of coughing. “It’s been hours since my last meal. I need sustenance if I’m to channel my way back down.”
“You should’ve kept your skewered kapizer from earlier and cooked them over the fire. Your hair’s loaded with enough oil to fry a couple monkeys.”
Aina snickered at that, and Aranel glowered at them both. He flipped his hair over his shoulder with a long-suffering sigh. “I’ve had about enough of the two of you. If we’re not stopping for food, let’s get the hell off this wretched mountain.”
“Careful, Aranel,” Aina said with a sly grin. “Such filthy speech will burden your soul.”
Meizan yanked Aranel up by the collar before he could respond and led the idiot and Aina around the western rim of the crater.
“Don’t channel,” he warned, jerking his head at the lava. “Even the slightest mistake, and this all blows to shit.”
As it stood, the Dead Mountain seemed calm enough to go another few weeks without erupting.
We’re going to make it, Meizan told himself, nails digging into his palms. The northern periphery grew closer by the minute. I’m going to get Kanjallen out of this dump so we can search for Chief Kanna.
Chilling screams fractured Meizan’s calm like stones smashing a thin layer of glass.
Dozens of kapizer swarmed up the western slope and cut off their path. The monkey he’d electrocuted earlier led the pack, its eyes twin balls of fury.
That little scumbag! I should have ground its bones to dust!
Meizan drew his sword as Aina readied her bow. He reached for his knives and tossed two to Aranel. The blades were shorter than ideal but better than nothing. The flea-brain carried no weapons of his own, only an empty scabbard strapped to his waist.
“We can’t risk channeling,” Meizan said at Aranel’s startled look. The upper held the knives as if they were coated in kapizer venom. “Do what you have to do. Chop them up like fruits. And for Azyaka’s sake, make sure nothing disturbs the lava.”
The first wave of kapizer leaped forth amidst a shower of spines. Meizan batted away the projectiles and pivoted on his heel, spinning and slashing his way through the mob. Any kapizer he cut down, he flung over the outer edge of the volcano.
Next to him, Aina whipped up a fury of arrows, directing her shots away from the lava. Her aim was true and she fell into step next to him, shooting down the kapizer he missed while avoiding the whirling path of his sword.
They cleaved a passage through the horde, and Meizan felt a swell of relief, one that quickly turned to rage when he spied Aranel behind them.
The feckless upper had wrapped the knives with strips of his tunic and was gripping them by their blades. Meizan had never seen anything so absurd in his life. Aranel’s movements, while elegant and swift, were entirely impractical. He wasn’t attempting to attack the monkeys, only defending against their spines. Occasionally, he’d knock one out using the hilt, then carefully slide its body away from the lava pit with his foot.
“You piss-brained idiot!” Meizan shouted over the kapizer’s screeches. He brought his sword down in an arc and neatly beheaded the kapizer Aranel was fending off.
Aranel turned to him, wide-eyed. “How could you—”
“Shut it,” Meizan snarled, lunging forward to cut another beast.
Aranel kicked it out of the way, flipping the knife in his wrist to smash its cloth-covered blade against Meizan’s own.
“They’re not immortal, and they can’t heal themselves,” Aranel cried. “Knocking them out is enough. There’s no need to cut them up!”
“That’s what knives are for, you spineless, sinless moron!” Meizan shoved Aranel aside to stab an incoming kapizer. “I’m trying to get us out of this in one piece.”
“At what cost?” Aranel’s eyes fell to his forehead.
“Don’t you dare judge me.”
“I would never presume to, but Toranic Law—”
“Should understand the meaning of self-defense,” Meizan growled. “Even if it doesn’t, I don’t give a shit because there’s no burning way in hell I’d ever ascend!”
The next wave of kapizer descended on them in a whirlwind of spines and shrieks and snapping teeth. But for every kapizer Meizan and Aina felled, another three leaped to take its place, their beady eyes bright with malice, raucous screeches threatening to burst his eardrums.
“Meizan…” Aina’s voice grew faint. “I know…s’bad timing…m’sleepy…”
Meizan swore as Aranel rushed to catch her tottering form. A gleaming spine was buried in Aina’s shoulder.
Aranel wrenched it out and examined the wound. “It’s shallow, thank Sherka.”
But even with a shallow wound, Aina would be knocked out for the next couple minutes. Meizan couldn’t handle so many beasts alone until she awoke. Not without chitrons.
“I’m going to channel.” Meizan clenched his jaw. “Pray to your grassy bitch goddess I don’t screw up.”
He swiped his thumb against his keiza just as the kapizer sent a volley of spines whistling toward them.
The chitrons of Malin slithered over his own like a coat of tar. Meizan compressed the air around him so it was dense as stone, to form a protective dome that encapsulated him, Aranel, and Aina. The kapizer spines clattered off harmlessly, and even as the creatures pounded it with their fists, the air dome did not give way.
“This is our chance,” Meizan called. He forced his way through the mob, and Aranel followed closely behind with Aina.
They were halfway to the northern rim when the dome gave a violent shudder. Meizan ground his teeth as his chitrons strained against the bond, forcing the air particles to keep their shape. But the will of Malin’s chitrons prevailed, and Meizan lost control.
The dome exploded and swept an entire line of screaming kapizer into the lava.
“No,” Meizan groaned, as the lava began to rise, spluttering and bubbling with a fury.
He had to stop it. Merumarth couldn’t erupt now. If it did…
Meizan looked toward the eastern rim of the crater, cold fear clawing at his heart. His clanmates were down there, hiding in a cave at Merumarth’s base. The four surviving members of Kanjallen whom Meizan had sworn to protect.
Meizan barely had time to register the guilt as lava surged forth like a tsunami. Towers of fiery liquid spurted skyward. Then, with a shattering crash, the eastern wall of Merumarth blew open. Lava poured through the new vent and down the mountainside in torrents.
Numbness spread through Meizan’s bones, freezing him in place as he watched the lavafall. In seconds the Kanjallen hideout would be flooded. His clanmates buried alive.
They wouldn’t die but live on in scorching, suffocating darkness…until they lost the will to exist and ended in erasure, the most terrifying fate to befall one’s soul. Erasure marked the ultimate end of a being. An irreversible destruction of their soul that left not a single chitron intact.
Meizan heard it happened most often in Narakh, when a Narakhi, unable to endure even a moment more of their trauma, gave up on existing. But erasure was rare in Malin. Almost unheard of.
And now Taezur and the others would face that grisly fate, and it was Meizan’s plan to cross Merumarth that had caused it.
“We need to get out of here.” Aranel shook his shoulder. “Meizan?”
Meizan tore his gaze away from the lavafall. Aranel studied him with an odd expression. “Are you all right?” the upper asked. Meizan didn’t know how to answer that. “The mountain’s unsteady,” Aranel continued.
Beside him, Aina rubbed her eyes. “What…the bleeding…hell…”
Merumarth rumbled below their feet, large cracks forking across the stone. The explosion had relieved some of the pressure, but more lava bubbled up. The kapizer fled down the western slope, their revenge utterly forgotten.
“We could try climbing down,” Aranel said. “But I’m worried the other side will blow. I think it might be best to—”
A deafening crack cut him off as the rock beneath Meizan’s feet split apart.
“Come on!” Aranel yelled over the uproar, yanking Meizan to safety.
Lava trickled from the newly opened fissure. In a few minutes the entire mountain would explode. They’d be buried. Buried and forgotten like the rest of Kanjallen.
“Hurry!” Aranel tugged on Meizan’s arm, dragging him toward the lava pit.
Meizan stared at the gushing river of fire. It swept away from them and spilled over the eastern edge of Merumarth. Amidst its flows, Meizan spotted the corpses of several kapizer, some burned to death and others crushed between floating chunks of rock.
“You can’t be serious,” Meizan heard Aina say.
“It’s our only option,” Aranel replied. “The lava will clear a path through the army and carry us straight to the hideout. But if we wait any longer, it’ll be too late.”
“Fine,” Aina said. “But you go first. I need proof the damn rock won’t sink.”
Aranel turned to Meizan. “Could you trust me on this?”
Meizan stared at him blankly. Trust? What was he on about?
“You can thank me after,” Aranel said, then jabbed the base of Meizan’s skull. Meizan stumbled, black spots swimming in his vision. An arm wrapped around his shoulders and he pitched forward, right into the lava river.
Meizan reached for his chitrons in a panic, but his feet hit something hard. He found himself atop one of the floating rocks with Aranel crouched beside him.
“Son of a bitch,” Meizan hissed once he’d realized what Aranel had done.
“You blanked out,” Aranel snapped. “I had no choice.”
The rock gave a horrible lurch as Aina landed next to them, her arms spread to keep balance. “You’ve lost your senses, Aranel!”
“As have you,” Aranel shot back, shifting his weight until the rock steadied. “You might’ve chosen another rock!”
Their makeshift raft rushed forward with the tide and neared the brink of the lavafall.
“Meizan.” Aranel nudged him. “Help me channel, or we’ll capsize.”
“Burn this,” Meizan muttered.
He couldn’t believe the situation they’d gotten themselves into. But Aranel’s deranged plan was their best chance at survival. Meizan drew upon his chitrons as their rock pitched over the precipice, gathering speed as it plunged down the mountainside. Hot air whipped Meizan’s face, lava splashing against his hastily erected chitronic shield. Behind them, Merumarth exploded with an earth-shattering roar.
The lava river slowed once they reached flat land, mowing through the trees of Martharan. Meizan pressed himself horizontal against the rock to avoid a low branch. The lava had cleared a straight path through the forest. Whatever trees remained standing were wreathed in orange flame, the most color Meizan had ever seen on them.
“I can’t believe that worked!” Aina crowed. “The lava will boil Kaldrav’s soldiers alive, and—Wait! What about the hideout?”
“With luck, the lava won’t reach that far,” Aranel said. “Even if it does, at this pace, the Balancers ought to have time to evacuate.” He nudged Meizan’s shoulder. “What’s the matter with you?”
“Why did you help me?” Meizan asked hollowly. “You could’ve left me there, to a burning burial. You probably think I deserve it for killing those kapizer.”
“I considered it,” Aranel admitted. “But I couldn’t do that to another person.”
“It’s what I would’ve done to you.”
“Perhaps.” Aranel gave him a tight smile. “But I’d like to believe I’m better than you.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Aina sniped from Aranel’s other side. “You only did it for the soul benefit. The same reason you joined the Balancers.”
“About that…” Aranel rubbed a palm across his forehead. “I lied. To the both of you. I’m not a Balancer yet. I wasn’t even recruited. I entered Malin in the hope they’d accept me, but then Meizan found me and took me hostage.”
“I knew it,” Aina said. “I knew Zenyra wouldn’t recruit a moralistic prig like you.”
“I’m here, in Malin!” Aranel said hotly. “I’m still planning on joining.” He looked at Meizan again. “I’m afraid you won’t be able to trade me for anything useful.”
“You can trade me,” Aina piped up. “Or better yet, I’ll talk to Zenyra and she’ll give you what you need. You want medical supplies to help your clanmates, right?”
“No.” Meizan reached up to touch his cheekbones, where the fading marks of his clan rested below his eyes. “Not anymore.”
Even in the unlikely situation that Taezur and the others endured the lava for a few days, there was no way Meizan could find them and dig them out in time. Kanjallen had been three thousand strong once, then six. Now only Meizan remained.
Grief is a weapon, he told himself. Tears temper the blade.
But Meizan felt no grief, only emptiness. He had no tears to shed.
“Do you—” Aranel started, then seemed to think better of it and shut his mouth.
They lapsed into silence and lay on the rock as it bobbed along the fiery river. The lava grew sluggish as it cut through the forest, thickened by the slurry of dead trees and ash. It flowed lazily past Martharan’s fringe and coasted across barren wasteland before curving to the right.
“It appears we’ve found the Balancer hideout.” Aranel pointed at the bend of the river. An invisible dome seemed to push it back, forcing the lava around it.
“That must be the chitronic shield,” Aina said. “Zenyra mentioned that it encircles the hideout, and only she controls who enters.”
“Quite a powerful shield, to redirect a river,” Aranel said. “I expect it’s been layered with a concealment of sorts to render the hideout invisible.” He frowned. “Little good that will do now that its location has been revealed to all of Malin.”
“Maybe they already knew. Maybe that’s why Kaldrav’s soldiers were camped out here. We should warn Zenyra.” Aina turned to Meizan. “Are you sure you don’t need supplies? The Balancers probably have plenty to spare.”
When Meizan didn’t reply, Aina leaned over to look at him. “Your home was destroyed by the eruption, wasn’t it? Where will you go next?”
A sharp, burning sensation rose at the back of Meizan’s throat.
“I don’t…” He swallowed, his voice a hoarse whisper. “I don’t have anywhere to go.”
Aina’s eyes softened. She reached out to wrap thin fingers around his wrist.
“Yes, you do.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
The Balancers
Aina knew the look in Meizan’s eyes. The tempest of rage and despair that gave way to empty acceptance. She knew the aching loneliness hidden behind halfhearted glares and desultory scowls.
She didn’t know what he’d lost, but she knew his pain.
Ignoring Aranel’s skeptical look, she dragged Meizan into the hideout. The air rippled as they crossed the boundary of the chitronic shield.
It almost felt as if they had stepped into another realm. The suffocating heat of the lava evaporated, leaving the air dank and heavy, but clean. A flattened mountain stood before them, about a quarter as high as Merumarth and crowned with a ring of leafless trees.
“Not another volcano,” Aranel groaned, although he was too tired to complain further as they scaled its rugged slopes.
They passed through the trees to find themselves overlooking a caldera with walls of dark granite that curved in protectively. Instead of lava, the depression was filled with clear water, a small island at its very center.
As they descended into the crater, Aina noticed rough staircases and entryways hewn into the rock, along with orifices she guessed were windows looking upon the lake below.
