Blood Rites 5, page 18
Aria couldn’t decide if he was angry at having his wish for death denied, or hopeful but struggling to restrain the feeling.
The soldier’s hair was a matted tangle of mud and blood, strands clinging to his forehead and stuck there in a paste of sweat and gore. His eyes were sunken into his skull, the hazel color which may have been striking at one time, now dull and disconnected. Torchlight flickered over his features, casting dark shadows over his face as Aria put her hands upon his chest.
Drawing upon the well of healing magic in her soul, Aria reached for the man with her hands glowing in a warm, golden light. The golden glow wrapped his limbs, soaking into his broken bones, knitting together the limbs that had been damaged in battle.
His uniform, torn and soiled, was barely recognizable as the proud red of Crimson Keep. His wiry, muscular frame twitched beneath Aria’s hands, the muscles jumping as if they’d been electrocuted. Dylan winced and shouted in pain, but Aria kept her hands on him.
This time, as Aria healed her patient, she fed more of her power into the soldier than he needed, driven to do more than merely heal.
She wouldn’t just heal him. She would reform him completely.
The shattered leg wrenched suddenly sideways, and Dylan’s shout became a scream. Aria could feel the eyes of other patients, and her students, watching her as she worked. The gods themselves seemed to be holding their breath, not daring to say anything as she pushed the bounds of natural healing into something else.
The grotesque angle of the broken limb began to tremble. The protruding bone and torn flesh pulsed and shifted. Dylan gripped her arm with his hand, surprising her with his strength. His lips peeled back from his teeth, the tendons of his neck standing out like wires as he forced out the words, “What are you doing to me?”
“The impossible,” she said, her own tone forced as she fought the flow of magic that threatened to leap from its path at even the slightest provocation. Aria shoved the soldier down, pinning him beneath her power as she forced more magic into his wounded body.
Despite his obvious suffering, there was a resilience about him, a silent strength that spoke of battles fought and endured. This was what she drew on as she channeled the divine light of her gift into him.
First the bones knit, and the flesh thickened and scarred. Despite Dylan’s doubts, Aria was more than able to heal him. She then infused his body with unnatural strength, enhancing his natural resilience in combat, pouring her near limitless reserve of life-magic into the soldier.
The soldier's eyes widened in amazement as he felt a newfound vigor coursing through his veins.
“What are you doing?” he asked again, but this time there was awe in his voice. “What have you done to me?”
“I eased your suffering,” Aria said, releasing her grip on the man and stepping away so that he could revel in the feel of his new body.
He scrambled to his feet, trembling in shock. “I… I thought I was dead… Am I dead? Is this a dream?”
Aria left him to his own realizations as other, less injured soldiers approached to inspect the changes in their comrade. She had others to improve.
One by one, Aria made her way through the ranks of grievously injured soldiers, healing their wounds and rebuilding their bodies until they barely recognized themselves anymore.
It wasn’t only wounds to the body that she treated. One soldier, a veteran whose spirit seemed crushed by the horrors he had witnessed at the redoubt, received a different kind of blessing from Aria. As she laid her hands upon his shoulders, a soothing blue light enveloped him. Aria used her magic to cleanse his mind of the horrors, imbuing him with a sense of calm and clarity, washing away the mental scars of battle and renewing his purpose.
Many soldiers required both healing of the mind and body.
The more Aria worked the more angry she felt, as if she were taking a part of the injured souls into her own as payment for the transformations her magic allowed.
Fine, she thought, steeling herself against the encroaching darkness. Let it be. I will take this gift of death and despair and turn it on those who would see us crumble beneath its weight.
All night, she worked. Long after the centipede had been destroyed—rumors whispered told of Rowan single-handedly taking the beast down—the healer moved through the moaning soldiers, applying her blessings and bolstering their army for the next wave of fighting to come.
Near the end of the night, one of Rowan’s scouts lay at Aria’s feet. The woman’s body was riddled with wounds from a skirmish, her flesh pale from loss of blood. Aria's hands hovered over the scout and a deep crimson light, almost sinister in its hue, emerged.
Saintess, this is a dangerous path, Eslyn warned, though his sister shushed him quickly.
We must trust her, Elysia murmured, and Aria could feel the goddess’s attention on her every move. She is one of our own, even if she wields the magic in a different way.
“I am yours,” Aria said as she drew upon the darker aspect of her magic, siphoning a fraction of life energy from those around her—the healthy soldiers who moved between the injured to bring them water and conversation. “But I am my own, too.”
These drips and drabs of life, Aria channeled into the woman. The healer felt a slow smile spreading across her face.
She’d wanted to try that technique for a long time, though it seemed a somewhat moral gray area if it wasn’t necessary. As she watched the woman's wounds closed rapidly, Aria felt her understanding of her shadow skills grow. Like the bone charm she wore around her neck, Aria had always been cognizant of the other side of her skills. Anyone who can reverse the flow of death can certainly advance it as well. She could do this to rip the life from an enemy, if need be.
And, she had now confirmed, if Aria ever drained her own resources, the healer could always pull the life from others around her to mend those in need.
The scout came to with a gasp, and Aria left her with heightened senses as well as a healed body, readying her for the stealth and agility required in her role.
Throughout the night, Aria moved among the soldiers, leaving dozens of bewildered and enhanced men and women in her wake. Each transformative touch was a testament to Aria’s growing mastery over life and death. She felt a sense of liberation in Eslyn and Elysia’s discomfort with her methods. Aria’s magic had never been just for healing, though, no matter what the twin gods had tried to tell her.
She was destined for empowering, defending, and—more than anything—fighting back against those who would harm the innocent.
The air shimmered before her and Gisele appeared, wearing her strange, doll-like smile. “They’re afraid of you now,” she said. “Saintess…”
Aria’s apprentices watched her with wary gazes, unsure of whether or not they should be in awe or be afraid. Aria did not feel as if they needed to choose. “Perhaps they should be.”
Gisele giggled, grasping Aria by the hand. “Yes, perhaps they should,” she said. “Come, there is something for you to see.”
Aria allowed herself to be drawn from the infirmary like a sleepwalker, half-dazed from using her power to such an extent for so many hours. “What is it?”
“Lazarus wants you,” Gisele said, tugging her along the dark corridor. “We are to help him decide upon a problem.”
“What problem?” Aria asked, her mind still spinning from the results of her experiment. She found she liked the flicker of fear she felt from the soldiers’ eyes as they felt her working, perhaps felt her drawing from them like a vampire, syphoning their lives into their comrades.
Gisele giggled again, and there was something unsettling about her tone. She hummed underneath her breath as she pulled Aria up a narrow staircase toward the battlements. “Oh, just more monsters,” she said, as if it were nothing. “Apparently that rip-snorting centipede was only the beginning. Valka’s throwing a bit of a hissy fit that Rowan defeated it so quickly.”
“And he wants me?” Aria asked, coming alert at the doll-like woman’s alarming words. “For what?”
“To kill them, silly,” Gisele let out a delicate snort and covered her nose with her hand before falling into another fit of giggles. “Everyone’s talking about you, you know. Saintess of Healing. Saintess of War. Saintess of Death. They said a shadow flickered over your face as you worked, like the hollow-eyed stare of a skull… I can’t wait to see it for myself!”
“I didn’t know that,” Aria said, somewhat abashed. No wonder they’d given her such a wide berth as she’d worked. But she felt a thrill of excitement too. Aria had never liked to be underestimated, and now there would be no doubt in anyone’s mind that Aria was as powerful as Lazarus’s battle brides.
She would no longer be simply a healer, but a warrior of light and shadow, a protector whose powers defied the conventional boundaries of divine magic.
They climbed upon the battlements as dawn approached, a pink haze washing over the overcast sky. Lazarus stood with Thaddeus and Herschel on his left and Rowan on his right. The ranger seemed to be leaning on him, not just for comfort but to hold herself upright.
“Rowan,” Aria exclaimed, rushing forward to help her friend. “Are you alright?”
“There she is,” Lazarus said, turning to greet them. “The soldiers are buzzing about you, Aria. Have you been making super-soldiers in your spare time?”
“I just saw Dylan Balderson lift a full barrel of oil onto his shoulder,” Thaddeus said, turning to her with his arms crossed and a wry expression on his face. “When the last time I saw him, I paid my respects, thinking he’d be dead by morning.”
“He was stronger than he looked,” Aria said, carefully. “I used that to my advantage.”
“And his,” Thaddeus said with an approving nod.
“And ours,” Lazarus said, grinning widely. “Do you think you can help our red-haired friend the same way?”
Aria gasped as she realized Rowan was only standing upright thanks to Lazarus’s arm around her waist. The ranger was flitting in and out of consciousness as they spoke. “Of course, lay her down. I’ll get to work immediately.”
“That’s good,” Lazarus said. “We’ll be needing her. And you. I’ll support you both as best I can, but it seems this particular battle isn’t mine to fight.”
“What do you mean?” Aria asked.
Lazarus carried Rowan to a pile of hay that had been nestled against the wall for off-duty soldiers to rest in. When he moved, Aria saw what they had been looking at on the horizon. Gisele squealed and rushed to the edge of the battlements to stare as well.
“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” the blond woman gaped. “Have you?”
Thaddeus grunted. Herschel shook his head. “These divine pains-in-my-arse are pulling out all the stops for us,” the old soldier grumbled. “Or should I say, for Lazarus.”
Aria stood beside Lazarus, her gaze fixed upon the horizon where a dark, undulating mass approached Red Redoubt. Leading the eerie procession were two more of the massive centipedes, their elongated forms a nightmarish fusion of bone and chitin, skittering forward with a sinister grace. Even at this distance, Aria could tell how huge they were, and the sight made her shudder.
“Valka used us to strengthen herself,” Lazarus said. “She had this entire fortress marked as a place of ritual, of sacrifice in her name.”
Aria shook her head, her recent victory paling in comparison to the battle ahead. “But… why?”
“Any blood we spill her strengthens her,” Lazarus said calmly. “She intends to kill me.”
“What?” Aria tore her gaze away from the oncoming threat.
“Valka has protected these creatures against my attacks,” Lazarus said. “She knows better than anyone what I am capable of. When I attacked the first centipede, every time I touched the beast with my blades, I felt the blood magic sucked from my veins. These will be the same…”
Aria looked back at the horizon where, behind the monstrous centipedes, an army marched. The mantis-like soldiers moved in chilling unison, their exoskeletal bodies glinting under the moonlight. “Why?” Aria asked again, shaking her head in confusion. “Why… bugs?”
These are not creatures of any realm I recognize, Eslyn supplied in Aria’s mind.
Aria relayed that information to the others, and both Thaddeus and Herschel frowned.
Gisele nodded, “That’s what Nocturna says, too.”
“And we’re to fight these… things…” Aria said, shuddering again. “Without you?”
As much as she’d reveled in the idea of fighting alongside Lazarus again, Aria found she had no desire to take on the monstrous enemy alone.
Each soldier, towering and insectile, bore wickedly curved blades for arms, clicking and clashing in a macabre rhythm. Their multifaceted eyes gleamed with an unnatural hunger, reflecting a sky devoid of stars. The sight was both mesmerizing and horrifying, a grotesque parade of otherworldly warriors advancing with relentless purpose, as if the very shadows had conspired to unleash their wrath upon the fortress.
“Not without me,” Lazarus said, wrapping an arm around Aria’s waist and drawing her into a kiss.
As their lips touched, Aria felt her body quake as the celestial core within her expanded to twice it’s size. She broke away from him, gasping. “Lazarus, I… What was that?”
“The same thing I did for Rowan when she fought the last centipede,” Lazarus said, smiling at her shock. “I shared a paladin’s gift with you. If I transfer my buffs to you, Rowan, and Gisele, you will be able to attack Valka’s monsters with my strength and your individual powers. She may have protected her armies from me, but she forgot about my greatest strength.”
“Us,” Aria said, rushing to Rowan’s side to heal the incapacitated ranger. “I didn’t realize you could share your powers directly with us. I thought it was just an overall strengthening.”
“Do me next!” Gisele said, jumping up and down and clapping her hands.
“I’m glad someone’s excited,” Herschel grumbled. “I thought I’d be done with bugs after we bid goodbye to those wretched cave spiders.”
Lazarus kissed Gisele as Aria knelt beside Rowan, pouring her healing magic into her friend.
Gisele made an exaggerated moaning sound as the flood of Lazarus’s power filled her and she stepped away, swooning. “Oh, Lazarus,” she said. “That was simply div—”
The blond woman stopped short, turning to stare at the horizon. “What is that?”
Gisele pointed at something Aria couldn’t see. The healer was focused on repairing the damage in Rowan’s body, which, she was relieved to see, was mostly simple exhaustion from having overextended her magical abilities. Lazarus’s paladin gift had extended her stamina, but it was a temporary boost and the ranger had collapsed once the battle was over.
Thaddeus squinted and peered over the battlements. “Is that…?”
As Aria worked, she was startled to hear Lazarus begin to laugh. “Sylvia has decided to join us.”
“A dragon,” Thaddeus finished, laughing as well. “At least that monster’s on our side.”
Aria shook her head, clearing her mind of the voices to concentrate on Rowan. But as she did, she felt a growing excitement in her belly.
She was going to fight. She was going to use her dark powers in battle.
The healer grinned as she worked.
Look at us, Eslyn added wryly. Looks like we’ve created a monster, too.
Elysia made a murmur of agreement. Yes, she said. But… at least she’s cute.
20
Valka’s Mistake
The sun rose above the horizon, painting the sky in hues of blood and gold, as the ground beneath Crimson Keep trembled with the approach of Valka's monstrous army.
Lazarus stood atop the battlements, his gaze fixed on the horde of mantis-men and the colossal centipedes that slithered towards Red Redoubt, their exoskeletons gleaming in the twilight. A chill seeped into his bones that had nothing to do with the icy weather; it was the realization that Valka’s betrayal was so much more complex than they’d originally thought.
It seemed obvious that Valka had somehow allowed Sanguiana access to the mortal realms in order to increase her own power—war and chaos were a boon to the goddess of war and retribution. It was less obvious why the goddess would target and attack her own sworn paladin. Was it simply that Lazarus had grown too powerful, and that she feared the loss of control? Or was there something else to it?
This army of creatures, each protected against Lazarus’s specific powers, seemed like a an overreach for a goddess who was merely jealous of her ex-paladin’s growing strength. She didn’t just want to see Lazarus dead… he was beginning to realize that Valka needed him dead.
But for what purpose, he couldn’t fathom.
As strong as he was growing, Valka was a goddess. She could always withdraw to the divine realm and forget all about Selunath, if she chose to. Had she not continued to aid Sanguiana behind his back, it was likely that Lazarus would never have known that she’d had anything to do with the dark goddess’s rise to power. So why risk it, if she was so afraid of him? If she wanted him dead, why allow him to be resurrected at all? What role did Lazarus play in Valka’s plans that had justified her keeping him alive when she could have killed him, and now needing him dead when it was no longer an easy task.
Lazarus shook his head, forcing the thoughts from his mind. He wouldn’t get to the bottom of the mystery now, on the battlefield, with thousands of insectile monsters marching upon their makeshift fortress.
Beside him, Aria, Rowan, Gisele, and Sylvia prepared for the onslaught. His harem members made an unlikely vanguard, to look at them. A healer, a druid, a doppelganger, and a former ghost… each delicate and beautiful on the outside. None would suspect the power harbored within them. Lazarus, however, was confident that these women would be the key to turning the tide of the imminent battle and showing Valka, yet again, that their army was not to be trifled with.
Gods and goddesses always made the mistake of believing themselves invulnerable. They acted as if they alone could be strong enough or smart enough to defeat their enemies. Fortunately for Lazarus, this same conceit warped the way Valka and Sanguiana viewed their enemies, too. They made the mistake of believing Lazarus was the most powerful opposition to their power, as if he single-handedly ruled the resistance.
