Worldbinder Part 41

The city's long war with the wyrmlings was over, and the men of Luciare had lost.

The wizard glanced down the halls one last time. He waited for long and long, until the wyrmlings could be seen down the corridor, the lights winking out before them. A dark, nebulous form floated ahead-the Death Lord, eager to feed.

The guards backed off, leaving Sisel alone to bar the way. The Earth Warden raised his staff protectively, singing an incantation so softly that Siyaddah could not hear his words.

At Sisel's back, the people huddled.

"Fear not," Siyaddah's father called out. "The Death Lord feeds on fear." His command was fruitless. The women and the children still sobbed. But it gave them some comfort to hear from a warlord, particularly one of her father's stature. With Madoc and High King Urstone both dead, the warriors would be confused as to whom to follow. Had one of Madoc's foolish sons had the wits, he would have stepped into the breach and taken command. But Siyaddah's father was filling that void.

Lights winked out in the darkened corridor as the Death Lord drew near.

The Wizard Sisel raised his staff, as if welcoming the creature to battle. "So, my old friend," Sisel said, "you come to me at last."

"We were never friends," the Death Lord whispered.

"You were my master," Sisel said. "I loved you as a friend. My respect for you never languished. My faithfulness never faltered. It was you who faltered...."

"Do you expect a reward?" the Death Lord demanded. "I have little to offer."

Siyaddah breathed, and the breath steamed from her throat. The walls of the cavern had suddenly grown icy, rimed with frost. Already, the Death Lord was leeching the life from the seeds and herbs here.

"Come then," the Wizard Sisel said, "and give me what you can."

With a cry like wind screaming among the rocky crags of some mountain cavern, the Death Lord came, rushing toward Sisel.

Wyrmlings by the dozens followed in its wake.

The wizard stood calmly as if waiting, and as the Death Lord neared, he swung his staff.

But he swung too early. The Death Lord was still at least a pace away.

The dark specter halted for half an instant as the wizard's swing went wide.

He missed! Siyaddah realized, fear rising up in her throat.

Then the staff struck the wall. Rocks and dirt exploded outward by the ton, and a crude opening gaped wide.

Beyond the fissure, dawn light was beginning to fill the skies. The rising sun rimmed the horizon in shades of pink, as was befitting a perfect summer morn.

At the touch of the sunlight, the Death Lord shrieked, and for an instant it seemed that the shadow gained more substance, becoming a creature of flesh. She could see a man, like her, not a wyrmling. His face was lined with countless crags, as if he had aged and aged for a thousand years. His eyes were a sickly yellow, and his silver hair hung as limp as cobwebs.

He held up his hands, as if seeing them for the first time in centuries, and shrieked in terror.

His hand looked like ragged paper, torn and aged. But it was thin and insubstantial, a ragged leathery covering wrapped over a hollow spirit.

At that instant, the Wizard Sisel swung his staff again, catching the Death Lord with a backswing, and its dusky form exploded into a cloud of dust.

Confronted by the sunlight, stunned by the loss of their master, the wyrmlings shrieked in pain and horror as the warriors of Luciare plunged into their ranks.

"Hold them back!" Siyaddah's father shouted at the guards, racing into the fray. "Hold them back."

"Go, now!" Sisel cried to the people. "Run while you can!"

Suddenly, hundreds of soldiers began shouting, "Flee, this way! Run!"

Already there were crowds shoving at the wizard's back, trying to make their way into the light. Siyaddah found herself being pushed forward. She longed to stay with her father, fight at his side, but she was like a leaf carried by a stream, out through the tunnel.

In a moment she found herself at the lip of a precipice. The sides of the hill fell away steeply below, but not so steeply that one could not climb down with care.

She did not go with care. Someone shoved her from behind, so that she went sliding and tumbling in the scree. She managed to grasp onto a small tree and pull herself upright.

People were falling behind her, rolling down the hill, like an avalanche of flesh. Siyaddah got her footing and darted from their path, angling down and away from the steady stream of humanity.

The sun crested a tree, and its light struck Siyaddah full in the face.

I made it, she thought in wonder. I'm alive!

Far away, Vulgnash raced through the sky, winging just above the treetops of a great pine forest, racing from the rising sun. He used his flameweaver's skills to draw the light into him, so that he was but a shadow in the pre-dawn. But it wasn't enough.

The light blinded him and pained him. He roared in frustration as he dove beneath the trees, seeking the shadows of the forest, and perhaps some cave to hide in from the coming day.

In a daze, Fallion heard the roars and for a long moment struggled to regain consciousness. His eyes opened, and he strained to peer upward, saw the monster that held him as if he were a slumbering child.

The Knight Eternal.

He's taking me away, Fallion realized. He's taking me to Ruga.s.sa, where he hopes to break me.

But Fallion knew something that his captor could not. He remembered now, his life from before.

I am eternal, he realized. They can kill me, and I will come back. They can beat me, and I will heal.

But I will not break. How can I, knowing how much the world depends on me?

The sleeper had awoken.

Fallion felt the heat all around him. He reached out stealthily with his mind, sought to grasp it.

Instantly, Vulgnash felt the touch, and drew heat from Fallion, slamming him back into unconsciousness.

But Vulgnash looked down at the small one, this young wizard, and felt alarmed.

In his pain and fatigue, Vulgnash had nearly missed Fallion's probe. In another hundredth of a second, the boy could have sucked the heat from the air and made his attack.

Lady Despair was watching. Vulgnash felt the touch of his master. "Careful, my pet," Lady Despair whispered. "I need the boy. I need him, though he can destroy us. You must be ever vigilant."

"Fear not," Vulgnash whispered as he stepped into the deep shadows thrown by the pines. "I will serve you perfectly, as always."

Far away on the slopes of Mount Luciare, the folk of the city fled through fields, the golden sunlight all around. Wildflowers grew in abundance in the fields, huge white daisies rising up from the golden wheat, while flowering thistles dotted the hill with purple.

Few of the folk had been injured in the mad stampede to escape the city. By rough estimate, some forty thousand inhabitants still lived.

But Rhianna knew that they were in trouble.

She now glided above the people on leathery wings, riding the morning thermals. She used her height to keep watch both ahead of the group and behind. The wyrmlings did not give chase. They were hidden now within Caer Luciare.

But there was panic on the peoples' faces. They could run, but how far, and for how long? Women and children would not be able to outrace wyrmling troops. Moreover, they only had one direction that they could go to escape-toward Cantular. The lands elsewhere were all flooded, and if the Wizard Sisel was right, Luciare was quickly becoming an island in an endless sea.

A hundred miles they would need to run in a day.

Rhianna wondered, And even if they make it, where will they find refuge?

After the better part of an hour, the Emir of Dalharristan called the people to a halt. Not all of the people were warriors, bred to battle, and many of them were already gasping for breath. Some of the wounded had to be carried. Among that number was Talon, who still lay in a swoon.

Rhianna looked around and realized that she could see no way to save them.

During the brief halt, Rhianna dropped to the ground, giving her wings a rest.

The Wizard Sisel, the Emir, and Daylan Hammer held a brief counsel, speaking rapidly. Rhianna could not understand what they said, and no one bothered to translate.

Daylan Hammer explained to Rhianna, "We are trapped. The women and children will not be able to outrun the wyrmling hordes. But there is still a chance that we can save them-a small chance."

"What chance?" Rhianna asked.

"I will open a door through fire and air...."

Instantly, she knew what he was planning. And she knew the dangers. "Into the netherworld? You can't! These poor folk, they won't know what they are getting into."

Rhianna had been there as a child, for a few months. Daylan had managed to keep them hidden, but the magics in that land were strong and strange. To Rhianna's mind, she'd rather face the wyrmlings.

"I must risk it-an uncertain future over certain death."

"Your own people will not accept them," Rhianna argued. "The White Council-"

"Is broken. My people are destroyed. Those who survive are hunted and helpless. If any of them find us, perhaps they will rejoice to discover allies."

Rhianna bit her lip, in doubt. Daylan's people would not rejoice, she knew. People from her world were scorned. "Shadow men" they were called.

"I will help you all that I can," Rhianna said.

But Daylan shook his head. "This task is not for you. Your people need you. They need to be warned. They need to prepare for the wyrmling attacks that will surely come. And now that you wear wings, there is no one better than you to warn them."

Rhianna stood for a moment, torn. She had thought of Daylan as her uncle when she was a child, and she loved him still. But she knew that he was right. Millions of people were depending upon her.

Fallion was depending upon her.

"The Emir will help," Daylan said. "He and his men have brought blood metal, to make forcibles. They plan to strike out ahead, with the hopes of attacking Ruga.s.sa and freeing its prisoners. But they will need to take endowments if they are to win through. You will need to find Dedicates for them, and convince them to aid in the quest."

Rhianna looked to the Emir. He stood beside his daughter Siyaddah, holding her close, comforting her. He was a tall man, with a gladiator's build and a hawkish face. With his over-sized canines and the bony plate in his forehead, he looked like some evil beast. In another life, on another world, he had been her enemy. Even now, she did not know if she could trust him.

How will I persuade people to give their endowments to this monster? she wondered.

Tell them that they are doing it to save the Earth King, she realized. And Fallion, whom I love. Tell them the truth.

Rhianna flew so high that the morning sun touched her wings, so that they sparkled like rubies in the sky.