Sacrifice (Catalyst Moon #5), page 43
Beacon joined Kali, as did Rook. Talon had not left her side. Drake stood at Stonewall’s other side, body tense, his gaze that of a pure soldier. Even his brief time among the silverwood trees had restored some of his energy. Atanar was with him and Stonewall allowed himself a moment to thank the One that his brother would not be alone after he was gone.
Tor, he thought. Father. Protect them, please.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Wild Eyes scoffed in derision. Stonewall searched for the familiar warm-blanket feeling that meant Tor was with him, but he felt only the night breeze skimming through the shadowed trees.
Milo and Flint trotted up. Naree’s helping the others escape out the other gate, Milo sent to Stonewall as he faced ahead, Pig at his heels. Stonewall glanced at the younger man to see how he fared with his new mental passenger, but Milo was all business as he stared at the dark gates, his eyes glowing with blue fire.
Sarkiss knows how to shield everyone in the grove from Argent’s mind-magic, Milo said, both to Stonewall and Kali. I’ll help keep us safe.
Kali nodded. Aloud, she said, “The meridians—Stonewall, Milo, and I—will handle Argent. The rest of you, cure as many thralls as you can.” The gates rattled and she sucked in a breath. May the One guide us.
Another rattle at the ironwood gates, then they flung open, and a wave of stars streamed into the shadowed grove. A legion of thralls swarmed the waiting defenders. Where darkness had once filled Stonewall’s vision, now he had to squint against the biting light of the thrall-eyes as the thralls fell upon him and his allies. It was like being back in the Shadowlands for the first time; he felt dizzy, disoriented. Thralls screamed at him, but he did not draw his blade, for he had his own kind of magic.
Drake’s calming magic created a bubble around his allies, so when the thralls entered the sphere of calm, they paused, confused. Flint, Beacon, and Atanar caught them and brought them to the mages that had been thralls only minutes ago. Sadira worked to cure them, instructing the newly-cured mages how to manage the feat. Those thralls that were cured—and there were so many! Mages and non-mages alike—were sent running toward safety, guided by Rook and Eris.
But not every thrall could be cured. Many veered to avoid Drake’s magic, only to either be shoved towards the bubble of calm or be cut down by the royal guards who’d showed up with Eris. Each death was a snuffed candle and Stonewall felt the guards’ grief as his own.
He comes!
Stonewall pulled his attention back to the gates, where a huge figure stood, shining bright amidst the shadows. High Commander Argent surveyed the chaos in the grove and laughed.
Impressive, the Prime Pillar purred in the minds of the meridians. But not good enough.
The threads of connection from Stonewall to Kali, to Milo, to his friends and to the Fata river itself, snapped beneath the Prime Pillar’s power. Within Stonewall’s mind, Wild Eyes howled in anguish before she went silent. It was as if Argent had stuffed Stonewall’s ears with wax and thrown a hood over his head. He could see nothing, hear nothing, but what his own eyes and ears revealed. Kali, still beside him, clutched her head and stumbled back. Milo fell to his knees as his and Sarkiss’s shielding magic failed. Their friends, who had stayed so bravely, shrieked, their eyes suddenly burning bright. Starlight was all around and Stonewall had never felt so alone.
He collapsed and pain screamed through his hands and arms. Argent’s presence overtook his mind, his heart, his spirit, a lashing storm that raged against every part of him. You’ve failed. Surrender. Then your pain will be gone.
Perhaps Argent—or Etia, or Atal, or whatever name the Elder used—was right. Perhaps this fight had gone on too long. Certainly, it had lasted longer than a few human generations. Why continue the battle?
But Kali lay beside him, eyes glowing with gold and violet fire even as she struggled to her feet. She would fight to her last breath. She was a true warrior.
No matter what else happened, they needed to be strong – for themselves, and each other. He would not fail her again.
He grabbed her hand and scrambled upright, pulling her up and taking the brunt of her weight so her bum knee didn’t have to work as hard. Standing now, Kali turned her attention to their foe. Stonewall felt the swell of her focus as she dove for the stream of power that connected Argent to the Fata realm; the connection she had to sever. But Argent was strong, stronger than anyone realized, and he shielded himself with every bit of that strength, rendering Kali’s efforts useless.
Argent loomed over Kali, his white smile shining amid the darkness. His laughter echoed in Stonewall’s mind – in the minds of all three meridians. Your time is done.
Stonewall reached within, past himself, past Wild Eyes. Tor, he begged. Father. Please… help us!
A woman screamed. Kali? No… Stonewall’s heart fell to his knees as Talon’s eyes, once burning bright, faded to dull brown and she dove for the High Commander, her sword gleaming.
THIRTY-SIX
Stupid.
One moment, Tal was only a creature of pain and fury, bolstered by the triple dose of hematite she’d downed after they’d reached the silverwood grove. The next, a blanket of calm descended upon her and she returned to her right mind. In that second, she took in the sight of Argent, towering over Kali, his own blade poised to sever her head from her neck. Just like he’d done to Foley. Rage swelled within Tal again, but this time the emotion answered her summons. She struck Argent with everything she had, throwing every ounce of her strength into the blow at his upper thigh, where even the fine silver-plated sentinel gear had a weak point. The blade bit deep and the High Commander doubled over, gasping. The thralls he’d created, the ones who’d not yet been cured, returned to themselves, blinking and human once more. Tal stood between him and Kali and lifted her sword for a final strike.
The Prime Pillar moved faster than a human. Too fast. A faint kiss of cool air at Tal’s side was the first alarm. Warm liquid threading down her leg was the next. Ceremonial armor was useless, after all. Tal’s legs gave out and she collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath, waiting for the pain of Argent’s blow to overtake her senses. But he already stalked away, his blood-tipped dagger glinting in the light.
But she’d managed to distract him, just long enough. Stonewall and Milo recovered and lunged forward, the raccoon kit snapping at Argent’s legs as the two men grabbed the new Pillar, no doubt using their own strange magic upon him. Tal couldn’t see much past the grass where she’d fallen. Every sound went dim, distant, like a battle far away.
She spotted Kali kneeling at the base of a silverwood tree, hands pressed against the bark. Tal recognized the look on the mage’s face: frustration. She’d still not recovered the magical energy Argent had stolen.
Honor. Service. Tal braced herself against the incoming onslaught of pain. Sacrifice. Slowly, painfully, she dragged herself toward the dark-haired mage, who knelt before the dark tree, weeping.
“Please, just a little bit of magic, something, anything… I just need…” Kali trailed off when she spotted Tal. “You’re hurt!”
“I’ll spare you talk of oaths,” Tal managed. Behind her, Stonewall and Milo fought Argent; how long could they keep up the fight? “You must end this, now,” Tal added. “Let me help you.”
“No,” Kali cried. “You need a healer. I can–”
“We’ve been over this,” Tal broke in, as gently as she could manage through the dizzying loss of blood. “It’s too late for me, and… I’m tired.” The hematite had already burned away, leaving her cold and empty. “I think I ought to try my luck in my next life. Perhaps I’ll see my parents again. But I can help you one last time.”
“You ask too much,” Kali whispered, tears falling once more. “I can’t.”
“Please don’t let Argent kill me, too.”
Kali’s eyes closed, she took a shuddering breath, then she knelt before Tal. They regarded each other; Tal studied the mage’s face and saw Kam looking back at her, bewildered but resolute in the decision. What Kali saw, Tal did not know. Perhaps it was for the best.
“Your life matters, too,” Kali whispered.
Tal smiled. “I know that, now, thanks to you.”
Then Kali embraced her, holding her close enough for Tal to feel her racing heartbeat. The mage’s touch was gentle, welcoming, and Tal relaxed in her grip. “This is my choice, Kali,” Tal murmured.
Kali nodded. “It won’t hurt,” she whispered. “I promise.”
Warmth touched Tal’s heart, like sunlight on her skin on the coldest winter day. Her pain receded, her thoughts drifted to her father and mother: memories of shared blankets, mugs of mint tea, laughter. She could hear Foley’s voice: My dearest girl. My Talaséa. How we’ve missed you.
“I’ve missed you too, Da,” she said, and the warmth spread to her limbs, her throat, her mind, and then her pain was gone.
* * *
Baat’s words echoed in Kali’s mind, but this time, she knew the truth. Such a gift, to turn hate into love.
Tal went limp in Kali’s arms, but her life-force, her gift, poured through Kali’s veins. Kali’s pain faded; her terror ebbed. She silently thanked the former sentinel’s sacrifice as she rose on steady legs and faced Argent. While Kali had knelt with Tal, Stonewall and Milo had kept Argent’s attention, but their strength was flagging. Argent’s eyes burned like twin suns and he sent a torrent of flame toward the men, who stumbled back. Neither had hematite in his veins any longer to protect him from mage-fire. Argent, laughing, sent a barrage of pain across the threads that connected all Fata souls, sending the meridians to their knees as anguish ripped through them.
Within Kali’s mind, Baat howled his own anger, but for once, Kali embraced the emotion, used it to bolster her own concentration as she fought through the pain, as she’d done so often. She staggered forward again, past Stonewall and Milo: the former sentinels-turned-allies – and more. Tal’s gift surged through her, and her steps flowed smooth.
Using Baat’s Fata sight, Kali focused on the thread of Argent’s power, the thread that connected him to the Fata realm. It glowed in her mind’s eye, golden.
You tried to pit us against one another, she called to the High Commander, the Prime Pillar, the eldest of the Elder Fata. Mages and sentinels – all pawns in your cruel, deluded games. You failed. Now it’s your turn to break.
Kali summoned the strength Tal had given, and thrust it forward, a blade of pure intention and energy aimed at Argent’s very soul. She gathered her magic and her ironclad will: Break.
Her aim was true. Argent screamed in surprise and fury and pain, which she felt too, which Stonewall and Milo surely felt, but Kali fought through the overwhelming urge to collapse, to surrender, and thrust her energy forward again, aligning her new Fata powers with her familiar magic. Break.
Argent cried again, staggered back, and his eyes went dim as he dropped to his knees.
Stonewall and Milo came to her sides again, drawing strength from the Fata river, and with one final surge of energy, the meridians severed Argent’s ties to the river of power, and sent him crumpling into the dirt of the grove.
Silence fell, thick and deafening, then Kali whirled around to check on her friends. Her heart soared at the sight of their eyes, for although they were all weak and stumbling, they were human. No thralls to be seen. She looked back at Argent, who lay silent. She could detect nothing from him, no breath or pulse of life, and the thread that had bound him to the Fata realm waved in the void, severed.
The world exhaled.
Then the thud of booted feet sounded outside the gate. Leal, Brice, and Rilla came tearing through the grove, pointing behind them.
“Sentinels on the way here,” Leal called. “Looks like every hemie in the city.”
“They’re not thralls,” Stonewall said. “Or at least, not that I can tell.”
“I imagine they’re coming to avenge their glorious leader,” Kali muttered. “We have to leave.”
Milo had already gone to Flint, to help her upright. The others struggled to their feet, dazed.
Stonewall ducked his head and spoke, not to Kali, but to another she could not see. Father, he whispered through their bond. Please.
A new figure appeared, stepping as if from the spring itself, a man who glowed gold, with curving horns that would have brushed the silverwood branches had he been real. Within Kali’s mind, Baat gaped in amazement as Tor himself came to her ragged group of allies and paused before Stonewall.
Your friends will be safe, Tor said, his words echoing in Kali’s mind although he spoke to Stonewall.
Stonewall bowed. Thank you, Father.
Tor glanced at Kali, who shrank back despite Baat’s ire and her own exhaustion. You have done well, he told her. For a human.
Kali managed a watery smile. Not entirely human any longer, but thanks, anyway.
Tor looked back at Stonewall. Gather your allies.
Stonewall stared at Tor, then called, “To me, everyone!”
The massive group converged upon Stonewall: Drake, Atanar, Eris, Sadira, Beacon, Flint, Rook, Brice, Rilla, Leal, Adrie, the Assembly leader, the royal guards, and the cured mages who’d not yet fled. They huddled around the meridians—and Pig—their collective focus on the gates and the sounds of running sentinels.
Tor nodded. My last gift to you, my son, is the same as my first.
The air around them began to shimmer as if with heat. The entire group clustered together as the air rippled. Kali bent beside Tal’s body and took her hand so she wouldn’t be left behind again. Stonewall came beside her, taking her other hand in his strong grip. The world shifted, changed, sending Kali’s stomach roiling. She closed her eyes against the feeling.
When she opened them again, she saw the sea. She’d only seen pictures before, but she recognized the endless expanse of blue water for what it was, as she’d also seen it in Baat’s vision. The ocean stretched before her eyes; soft, sugar sand shifted beneath her feet, sunlight streamed into her vision, and the scent of salt hung in the air.
Beside her, around her, old friends and new allies stood shakily, looking around in wonder. “Pillau?” Beacon said, rubbing his eyes. “Unless I’m dreaming…”
Kali looked over at Stonewall. Sorrow filtered through his emotions and he met her gaze. He’s gone, Stonewall replied. Tor. My father. It took all he had to bring us here.
She stared at the ocean again, at the lapping waves, at the endless blue. This is really Pillau?
Aye. Stonewall did not move, only drew shapes in the sand. The others murmured their amazement but did not approach him.
Kali sat down beside him, leaned into him, and rested her head on his shoulder. He brought you home.
Stonewall looked up at her, and smiled. He touched her cheek, pulled her close for a kiss. He saved my life, Stonewall said in her mind. But home is where you are.
EPILOGUE
Kali stood on the shore as dawn crept over the sea. Seren, the mage moon, dipped just at the horizon, spreading the last of her silver light upon the rippling ocean waves. Kali wriggled her bare toes in the soft sugar sand of the Pillauan beach as she studied the contrasting lights and the water they played upon. From Kali’s place on the shore, the ocean seemed to stretch on forever. But beyond that horizon, beyond even the dome of sky already tinted with sunrise’s pale pink and violet, were other places she had yet to discover.
Eyes on the horizon, Kali turned her attention inward, to Baat’s memories that now lived in her own mind. Through Baat’s ties to the human settlers he had once encountered, she had a connection of a sort to her ancestors – and to the other Fata. For what was surely the thousandth time since that night in Lasath, in the silverwood grove, Kali searched for Argent—or whatever his soul had named themselves in this life—but she found no trace of that malicious presence.
“Is Argent truly gone?” she asked. Baat’s consciousness had mostly faded from her mind, so he no longer spoke to her, but she could search his memories and find some of the answers she sought. She’d asked this question before, many times. The answer was always the same: All things die.
“But did he?”
The only answer was the crash of waves as the tide came in.
She dug the toes of her left foot into the sugar sand, bracing herself for the sand’s inevitable shift. But although her knee ached at the strain, the worst of her pain—the burden she thought she’d never be rid of—did not show its face.
“You’re safe now, dear heart.” A figure woven only from the threads of Kali’s memory appeared at her side; another benefit of being a meridian. Memory-Kam added, “Don’t fret about what you cannot change. Focus on the people around you, focus on the here and now.”
On Kali’s other side, the memory of her father crossed his arms. “You must stay vigilant, Kali. You took on this power, therefore you took on this responsibility.”
“I’m trying,” Kali said aloud, to them both.
Her father smiled. Kali did not see him, not exactly, but she remembered the way his face glowed when he smiled. “You are stronger than you know, Kali.”
“You have always been,” her mother’s memory added.
All things die. Her parents were gone, but their love had planted seeds in her heart, grown now to restore the once-barren landscape of her spirit. A few stray tears slid down her cheeks, but she smiled anyway. Within her mind, the final bits of Baat’s consciousness marveled at the sand between her toes and the taste of salt air on her tongue. Despite everything that had brought Kali to this point, fathomless gratitude filled her spirit.
Since when are you a morning person? Stonewall asked through their silent speech.
Kali grinned and glanced over her shoulder. From the first sunrise we saw here.
Also barefoot, bearing a couple of cotton towels, he came across the beach to her and laced their fingers together. “I’ll never tire of it,” he said aloud, gazing at the waves. “I thought I’d give you a few minutes before we start today’s training.”
