Exeres’ eyes burned with the spray of cinders. Smoke billowed through the tunnels and he coughed and gagged. Soldiers cried hoarsely to flee. Shouts of warning flitted through the gaps and tilting pathways of the tunnels.
Justin’s hands reached out and another spray of flames came wreathing from the orb, slicing through the fleeing soldiers, charring them to ash motes. The smell of it, the sickening flavor of crisp human flesh, along with the pulsing black odors of the magic itself, made him gag until he retched. Forbidden. It was Forbidden to kill so indiscriminately. The part of him that was a Zerite wept for the fallen, even though they were Bandit soldiers. He had been trained to heal, not destroy.
“Hurry, priest!”
The jerking strings tugged again and Exeres came after. The soldiers who had barred the way were gone, revealing Mage in his black robes. His face was gray with dust and fatigue, his mouth twisted with rage.
Seeing him ahead, Justin let out a cry and the Firekin swelled like a thousand candles, jetting gusts of impish flames down the length of the corridor, blackening the walls further. Mage absorbed the blow with a shrug and sent the flames careening back against them.
“Now, priest!”
Exeres held up the Bloodstone and it swallowed the fires, burning so hot in his hand that he yelped and nearly dropped it. But the stub of Everoot he clutched healed the blisters and sent soothing shocks through him.
It was close. They were close now. Mage hunched only a few dozen paces ahead of them, backing slowly away from them towards the prison cells. The walls shuddered and the forces of their wills bucked and rammed each other.
Then he remembered what the woman had told him. The woman with the golden hair—Altheas.
What memory would the door to Mage’s mind be hiding behind?
It struck him as insights often did—with a clarity that defied any attempt to explain it. It was the first memory that popped into his mind—the first time he had met with Mage and Tsyrke in the tunnels. Jaerod had told him to bring a message without telling him what it was. He had stood before them both, feeling like an utter fool before Mage had slammed him with magic and thought he could not hear.
Every detail of the room seemed to recall itself vividly. The desk with the mound of papers on it. The susurration of the floor rushes. Chests carved with sailor’s symbols. A red cloak that seemed threadbare in places. The whiskers on Tsyrke’s chin. The penetrating eyes of Mage, so clear and piercing.
I can make him remember anything.
Part of his mind opened like a door.
Mage’s voice rushed at him.
—The Key! How did you find it! —
Miestri shoved through Exeres and dragged him into Mage’s mind with her. He swayed and clutched his skull, for he believed it would burst like a melon. Laughter echoed inside him. He heard their voices ringing though the words that were not said.
—Our little game ends here, old man—
—You haven’t bested me yet—
—I don’t need to. The Shae boy is going to the Crystal. I just need to hold you here until he gets it—
—It will destroy you as well—
—I think not. I am still in the Shadows Wood—
—You think he will not use it on you next? —
—Don’t you understand, old man? This has all gone according to my plans—
Explosions rocked the tunnels as Justin sent wave after wave of energy at Mage. Rock fragments blasted loose, striking and spinning at odd angles through the smoke-filled corridor.
—I bested you in Castun—
—I let you. I can control three or four. You haven’t done it in so long it tires you—
—I stopped doing it because of what it does to them. You’re killing them both—
—Save your regrets for the dead of Sol-don-Orai—
—How many of us are left, little one? Are we the last?—
—Are you getting sentimental? —
—But how do you know you are far enough away? —
Justin spun from his feet and struck the wall, his face contorting with pain before he squeezed more Everoot and it healed him again.
—Because I took the records, old fool. I know what the Mages left here. I know what it does to the one who wields it. He won’t be able to use it again. He will destroy you and then it is mine—
Through the blur of words thudding in his mind, he saw Justin inching closer to Mage. They were only twelve paces apart now, so close their magic gusts blasted in the fringes.
—If I give my Firekin to you, will you let them live? —
—You don’t plead for yourself? I’m disappointed in you, brother—
—Will you let them live? —
—What does it matter? —
—Will you let them live? —
—You already know the answer to that, old man. They know far too much—
Exeres knew Mage’s thought before it whispered in his mind.
—Then I’ll kill them both for you! —