Broken World Book Two - StarSword (32 page)

"All this for
one man?"

"That is their
way," the staff replied.

"How long
before they attack?"

"As soon as
their formation is complete."

Tyrander
nodded. "Then we have little time. Tell me again what you told my
grandfather, staff. How can you be destroyed?"

The golden fire
flared to form a wall of writing, which the Prince read with a
smile.

"The Staff of
Law was created by the gods at the time of the creation of all
things. It was formed of Fire and Earth, given the laws of the
land, and hidden amongst a billion pebbles upon a stony shore. The
gods decreed a way in which the staff could be broken, far beyond
the realms of possibility, because all things must have balance and
nothing is truly indestructible. Thus they proclaimed that the
Staff of Law could only be broken by a Mujar weapon, wielded by the
one to whom it was given."

"And they
thought that this was impossible?" Tyrander asked.

"It is," the
staff answered. "A Mujar would not create a weapon, and, should he,
never give to one who was evil."

Tyrander
laughed. He drew the Starsword from its scabbard with a hiss of
steel. "And what is this?"

"The Starsword,
created by a Mujar."

"Right," the
Prince crooned, his eyes caressing the blade. "Created by a Mujar,
and wielded by me."

"You are not
the one to whom it was given," the staff pointed out.

"No, but I'm
his twin, and the sword cannot tell us apart, just as our parents
could not when we were born. Why did the gods overlook this
possibility?"

"On this
world," the staff replied, "there is no such thing as identical
twins."

"But Truemen
are not of this world, are they? We fell from the sky in a wingless
silver bird, and your gods recreated us from the bits they found. A
grave mistake indeed, for our god created us imperfect." He raised
the sword, running his fingers along its blade. "Curiosity killed
the cat."

"You cannot
defeat the gods," the staff stated.

"No?" Tyrander
gave a harsh, bitter bark of laughter that would have made another
Trueman flinch. "Maybe not, but I'm going to give them one hell of
a headache. I doubt my brother will survive the breaking of the
Staff of Law."

"He may, but
you will not."

"I'm doomed
anyway!" The Prince grinned, revealing teeth yellowed and rotted by
the sweets that had been lavished upon him as a child. He walked
around the staff, the sword clasped in sweating hands. "Unless you
tell your Goddess of Death to call off her minions, I will destroy
you."

"I cannot."

Tyrander
paused, turning his head. From outside, the thunder of hooves shook
the castle. The Hashon Jahar charged the walls, and the stone
melted before them. Tyrander glimpsed his doom in their rigid,
soul-haunted faces before he swung to face the staff and raised the
sword high.

"If I cannot
live in this world, then no man shall!" he cried.

The Staff of
Law flared, the golden letters of the laws blazing. The light burnt
into Tyrander's brain in the instant before his eyes crisped, and
one line of law held meaning for him.

None shall not
plunder this world.

The Starsword
fell. In an arc it cut the air, the stars within it shining. Its
honed edge, formed of Earth and Fire and Mujar magic, struck the
Staff of Law with a tortured scream. It flashed silver as it
sundered the staff, which shattered, unleashing a sheet of golden
fire that swept over Tyrander's head as he fell to his knees,
pawing at his empty eye sockets and howling in pain and
anguish.

The Starsword,
released, hung in the air before him, humming with sudden
malevolence. Its ebon length turned crimson, and it spun, rising
over his bowed head as if wielded by some invisible, celestial
hand. The blade descended in a silent sweep, and Tyrander's screams
ended. His severed head thudded onto the marble floor, and blood
spouted from the neck of his lifeless body as it toppled over onto
its side.

The throne
room's walls crumbled and melted away as the staff's power
vanished, and with it, its creations. The green oasis sank into the
sand, vanishing without a trace as it surrendered the unnatural
Dolana that had created it. The ruins of what had once been a great
castle stood exposed, lost and forlorn in the middle of a lifeless
red desert.

Chapter Thirteen

Chanter's head
jerked up, his eyes opening wide. "No!"

His shout
riveted the chosen and made Talsy jump up and run to him in
concern. Kieran rose more slowly from the rock on which he sat and
stared at the Mujar in surprise. Chaos slashed the peace of the
forest as flocks of birds rose shrieking into the sky and wild
animals gave tongue in alarm. Chanter turned to the throng of
people as Talsy hurried towards him.

"Get down!" he
shouted, then his eyes lighted upon the girl, and he flung himself
at her. Talsy gave a yelp of surprise and pain as he bore her
roughly to the ground, and the chosen threw themselves down. Kieran
leapt towards the Mujar, alarmed by his inexplicable attack on
Talsy. Chanter straddled the girl, his face twisted with a strange
emotion that terrified her. He gripped her bodice and ripped it
open, breaking the leather thongs that bound it. Kieran lunged at
the Mujar, and Talsy yelled as the force of Kieran's attack sent
Chanter sprawling. She clutched her torn bodice and rolled away
from the fray as Kieran pinned the struggling Mujar to the ground.
Chanter held something in his hand and shouted at Kieran, but his
words were lost in deafening thunderclaps. The chosen cringed and
clutched the shivering earth.

With a mighty
heave, Chanter thrust Kieran aside and pinned him down as a sheet
of fire roared through the forest mere inches above the people's
heads. The flames struck Chanter and engulfed him, turning him into
a blazing form sheathed in golden brilliance. Thunder crashed and
roared around them, drowning out the chosen's screams as the fire
seared the air above them. Chanter rolled away from the Prince,
ignoring the flames that licked over him as he struggled to his
knees. He drew back the fist that held something within it,
preparing to throw whatever it was as far as he could, when a point
of utter blackness shot through the air and struck him in the
chest.

Chanter fell
backwards, his cry lost in the roaring thunder. The golden fire
swept away across the land, leaving the trees around them ablaze as
the thunder ceased with the passing of the fire. Kieran struggled
to his knees and stared around in confusion. He jerked back in
surprise as a black sword appeared in the air before him. Talsy
crawled towards the downed Mujar, fearful of another sheet of fire.
Kieran plucked the blade from the air, his face twisted with grief
and elation.

Talsy reached
the stricken Mujar and touched him timidly. The golden fire had
left no mark on him, but the forest that blazed around and over
them presented a grave danger, its heat growing with every passing
second. Sweat beaded her forehead as she examined Chanter. He
stared blindly at the inferno above him with wide eyes, a look of
frozen horror on his face. She shook him gently, then with more
force when that had no effect. The Mujar lay as if in a trance. The
chosen used blankets to beat out small fires as burning branches
fell from above. Kieran sheathed the Starsword and crawled over to
Talsy.

"We've got to
get out of here!" he shouted over the flames' roaring crackle. The
fire crept down the trees, consuming the bark with soft whining,
popping sounds and the liquid sizzle of boiling sap. The people
beat out the fires around them, their labours growing frenzied as
more and more branches fell.

"Chanter's
hurt!" she shouted, glancing around. "Where can we go?"

"Back to the
ridge, there are fewer trees on it."

Talsy gasped
for air as the fire consumed it, leaving only smoke to breathe. The
people coughed as they fought the flames, and children screamed in
terror. The forest floor had started to burn, the dead leaves
lighted by fallen branches.

"We'll never
make it!" she cried. "The fire's too big!"

"If we stay
here, we die!"

"If we try to
get through that, we die too!" she shouted back.

A man screamed
as a burning branch fell on him, and his fellows rushed to beat out
the flames with blankets. Sheera hurried over to Talsy and knelt
beside her.

"What's wrong
with him?" Her eyes widened at the sight of the blackened hole in
the centre of Chanter's chest. "Is he alive?"

"Of course he's
alive," Kieran said.

"He seems to be
stunned." Talsy patted Chanter's cheek with growing desperation.
"Chanter! Chanter wake up! We need you!"

The heat became
unbearable as the trees burnt more fiercely, the fire creeping
closer along the forest's leafy floor. Kieran glanced around, a
dozen ideas flitting through his mind, only to be discarded.
Cutting the trees with his sword would only bring the fire down on
top of them, and summoning the wind was equally useless, since the
fire surrounded them. Sweat poured down his face, and he wiped it
from his cheeks. Their only hope was the Mujar, but Chanter seemed
to be oblivious. Talsy coughed, retching, and Sheera gasped and
fanned herself. Smoke choked the people who struggled against the
fire, and some collapsed, overcome. The children's screams were
replaced by coughing.

Kieran gripped
the Mujar's tunic and pulled him up until he was sitting. Chanter's
head lolled back, and blood oozed from the blackened hole in his
chest. Talsy gave a cry of protest, but the Prince grabbed the
water bottle from Sheera's belt and upended it over the Mujar's
face. Chanter blinked and spluttered. Kieran shook him.

"Come on, you
bastard! Snap out of it!" he yelled.

Chanter groaned
and closed his eyes, his face twisted with pain. Kieran shook him
again, coughed and blinked away tears as the smoke stung his eyes.
The Mujar writhed, almost tearing free of Kieran's grip, then flung
back his head and screamed. Kieran released him, shocked, and
Chanter slumped. The Mujar's left hand dug into the soil as he
fought the agony within him, and his right was still clenched in a
fist. Talsy sobbed, tears coursing down her face.

"Chanter, help
us! The fire! Stop the fire!"

The chosen
retreated from the spreading flames, defending a smaller and
smaller area of ground. The men beat at the fire, turning to help
each other as burning debris rained down on their heads. Women and
children huddled under blankets, many unconscious now from the
choking fumes. A man blundered into the flames and ran screaming
from them, setting alight to two of his fellows as they tried to
save him. He fell, rolling and screaming.

Chanter's head
jerked up and his eyes opened, flicking around at the burning
forest as if seeing it for the first time. White teeth flashed as
he bit his lip, agony twisting his face. A woman screamed as a
fallen branch set the blankets that covered her alight. Men rushed
to help, hampered by the thick smoke and searing heat that
threatened to overwhelm them. Talsy turned despairing eyes on the
writhing Mujar, whose face was twisted with pain as he bit his lip
until it bled. Realisation hit her like a mule kick. She grabbed
Kieran's arm and shook him with all her strength.

"Lift him
up!"

The Prince
gaped at her as she coughed.

"The Dolana!
Lift him up! Off the ground!" she cried.

Still looking
confused, Kieran slid his arms under the Mujar. With a heave he
rose to his feet, carrying the slender unman. Chanter grimaced and
sagged, then, to Talsy's surprise, the inferno redoubled as he
summoned Crayash. In a second it was gone, and he raised his left
hand, making a slow, graceful gesture.

The raging
inferno vanished with such suddenness that the air was sucked in
with a mighty thud, like the slamming of a giant door. The heat
disappeared with it, leaving the smoky air chilly, and the fumes
dissipated as a cool wind rushed in. The chosen sagged to the
ground, the injured whimpered and groaned, the rest gasped and
coughed, some vomited from the smoke they had inhaled.

A blasted land
surrounded them. The burnt forest stretched away in all directions,
still blazing several miles away. Their haven was large, the
charred trees around them cold and dead, but in the distance the
fire still raged.

Kieran started
to lower Chanter to the ground, but Talsy said, "No, don't put him
down." The Prince hesitated, and she looked at Chanter. "Can you
stand?"

Chanter frowned
and nodded. Kieran lowered his feet to the ground, but Chanter's
legs buckled and he fell to his knees. Kieran and Talsy followed
him down and held him upright as he swayed. Sheera mumbled about
tending the wounded and hurried off. Chanter sat back on his
haunches, his right hand, still clenched, hanging beside him. Blood
still oozed from the hole in his chest, and Talsy picked up
Sheera's fallen water skin and attempted to pour water over the
injury. Chanter thrust it away.

"No," he
grated, his voice hoarse and strained. "Not yet."

"What's
happened?" Talsy flinched as the earth trembled.

The Mujar shook
his head, and she shot Kieran a confused, pleading glance, but he
also looked baffled. Chanter reached across with his left hand and
gripped his right forearm, lifted it as if it was lifeless and held
it before him. Talsy gasped and recoiled, stumbled backwards and
caught herself with her hands. From between the fingers of
Chanter's right fist, something black oozed like a liquid. Its
writhing tendrils clasped his hand with a substance that was
neither stone nor wood, not living, yet not dead. Even as they
stared at it, the tendrils spread towards his wrist. Clearly he
could no longer open his hand, bound as it was within the cage of
darkness. He grimaced, drawing back his lips from teeth gritted
with pain.