Shards of a Broken Crown (Serpentwar Book 4)

The monster was swollen and cooking in its own juices, the carapace cracked in several places. Tomas grabbed one of the forearms and tried dragging it. He made slow progress, but Zaltais was hauled through the large doors of the building and toward the pit.

 

Then, with a loud crack, the chitinous outer shell broke, and inside the body they could see something writhing. The shell parted and something akin to a giant white worm began to wiggle out.

 

Miranda said, “I don’t have the strength to burn it again.”

 

Nakor said “You don’t need to burn it. Get it into the pit!”

 

Tomas charged the creature as it was halfway out of the smoking insect shell. He bashed it as hard as he could with his shield, and Zaltais was knocked backward, dragging the insect carcass with him, its lower section still embedded in the shell.

 

The thing shrieked, a sound which cut through the skull like a knife, causing Tomas to falter, but he overcame the sound and smashed the creature again, knocking it back once more, now only a dozen feet from the yawning opening of the pit.

 

Zaltais frantically snapped his tail, trying to rid himself of the insect corpse. Tomas kicked the thorax section and it spun the creature around, the insect body sliding toward the pit.

 

Pug wiped his hand across his eyes, his ringing head now clearing, and he uttered a simple spell that threw a punch of air, but one which could crush a man’s ribs. The creature was knocked backward and suddenly was overbalancing.

 

As they watched, arms began to extrude from the worm’s upper segment, frantically waving.

 

Nakor said, “Enough of this!” He ran forward, his staff cocked over his shoulder, and he struck the thing across the upper body as hard as he could.

 

With a scream that threatened to shatter their ears, Zaltais fell into the pit.

 

Miranda was knocked to her knees, as was Pug again. Tomas had to use all his willpower to remain upright, and Nakor gripped his staff as if it was the only thing keeping him alive.

 

Then the sound was gone. Nakor said, “We must seal this pit!”

 

“How?” asked Pug. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

 

“Yes, you have,” said Nakor. “You’re just not recognizing it!”

 

Pug took a deep breath and used what little energy he had left to assess the pit. “It’s a rift!” he said at last. “Yes,” said Nakor, “but not the sort you know.”

 

“How did you know?” asked Miranda.

 

“I’ll explain it all later,” said Nakor, “but you must close it.”

 

A faint breeze stirred, and Miranda said, “Did you feel that?”

 

“Yes,” said Tomas. “And I don’t usually feel the wind inside a building.”

 

“There’s something trying to come through!” shouted Nakor.

 

Pug said, “I need help!”

 

“What do we do?” asked Miranda.

 

“Give me whatever strength you can!” shouted Pug. He closed his eyes and let his mind enter the rift. He sensed the energies and was again assaulted by an overwhelming sense of alien wrongness. Yet there was a pattern, and as alien as it was, once he apprehended it, he was able to study it, and with study, the structure began to emerge. “I have it!” he said at last.

 

He let his mind call up the knowledge he had gained as a Great One on Kelewan, as he had studied rifts and their nature. The nature of the rift was that Pug could either use more power to close it than it took to open it, or he could subvert the power used to keep it open. He chose the latter course, as his energy was too depleted to attempt the former. Besides, he felt that even at his best, that choice might prove beyond his powers. He sent a cord of energy that snaked out and engaged the source of the rift.

 

Suddenly a presence appeared on the other side of the rift. It was massive and powerful beyond anything he had thought possible, and it was nothing but a distillation of hatred and evil so pure it defied human understanding. A part of Pug’s mind recoiled and wanted nothing more than to fall to the floor and whimper, as Fadawah had done. But Pug’s mental discipline came to the fore and he held his ground against this horror of the mind.

 

Whatever it was, it quested. It knew Pug was somewhere close by, but not quite where. Pug felt a sense of urgency rise up inside as he sought to unweave the matrix of power that held open the rift, for he knew that should this being find him, he would be lost forever.

 

A faint surge of power came to Pug and he knew that Miranda had succeeded in joining her power to his. He felt a sense of reassurance from her when she touched him, and the part of his mind able to perceive her sent forth its thanks.

 

The questing consciousness on the other side of the rift was becoming more aware of Pug as each second passed. Pug had his own spell ready.

 

He opened his eyes and for a moment it was if he was seeing two images at once. Before him stood Tomas, sword at the ready, with Miranda and Nakor beside him. Overlaying that image was one of a torn section of space and time, through which a great terror was peering in his direction. More than anything else, Pug was struck by the image of a vast eye peering through a keyhole.

 

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