Nightlord: Sunset (114 page)

Touching the haft was a bad idea.  The low-level draw the fork’s enchantment was exerting must have been nothing but a persistent nuisance to something like the Devourer.  But with half its brain blown into bloody chunks, it apparently forgot that grabbing the fork would reinforce the connection and amplify the amount of power it sucked out.

My vampire eyes watched the circuit of power flood with energy, winding up like a sound system’s feedback.  Unlike the screech of a sound system, it didn’t top out; it kept climbing… and climbing… both visually and audibly.  I could sense both the fork and the pendant—both powerfully enchanted items—being horribly mistreated.  They were obviously never meant to carry such a load.

I decided to get away; I could smell disaster.  I ran for it but, like
Lot’s wife, I couldn’t help it; I looked over my shoulder to see what happened.

The magic came undone.  The enchantment broke under the strain and the magical artifacts let go not only of their rapidly-cycling charge, but the very magic that went into their making.

The explosion was impressive.  It started as a white glare in the shape of the Devourer and rapidly expanded, becoming a half-sphere.  It grew, blazing brighter than a star, until it was about sixty feet across.  At that point, it started to lose some of its luminescence.  The front of the blast wave reminded me of old video footage of the first hydrogen bomb test, only smaller—and closer.  It continued to expand, dissipating as it did, carrying with it a shockwave and a blast of heat.

The shockwave hit like a driver, with me as the golf ball.

It couldn’t have been more than a moment I was out.  The rock against which I lay was cracked and my whole body hurt.  I was both mending and hungry.  I could smell smoke and burned flesh; I think that was me, but I didn’t feel it.  It took me a moment to realize Keria was beside me, shaking me with both hands.  Linnaeus was on the other side, trying to prop me up, but watching everything that was going on.  We were several rows up in the stands; I’m pretty sure that’s where I’d landed. 

Below me, spreading out, were several magicians—I recognized T’yl and his bodyguard-armor.  They were chanting and gesturing, launching spells to slow or slay the Things that poured in over the edge of the world.  Ander was with them, cloaked in a mantle of yellow-white fire and blasting any Thing that came within arm’s reach.

Ah.  The Mage’s Door in the Academy.  I wish I’d taken time to see the Academy.  They must have a very nice library.  I wonder how Ander got set on fire?  Poor guy.  Maybe I should go down there and help.

I wasn’t feeling all that coherent.

The Things beyond the world’s edge were scattered; they were a lot closer to the center of the effect and rather bunched up.  While they hadn’t had anything to be thrown against, the sphere of primary action looked pretty lethal.  It hadn’t been a half-sphere; it had been a
whole
sphere, disintegrating even the rock beneath it.  A lot of the Things were simply gone.

The ones that survived were the less dangerous sort; they hadn’t been able to muscle up as close to the upcoming sacrifice, so they hadn’t taken the full impact of the blast.  Still, I had a feeling a lot more would be coming.  I found I didn’t mind.  It should have worried me, but it didn’t—because, while I saw many items of interest, only a few registered on my consciousness.

The surviving Things—now only several hundred, and most of them obviously hurt—were pouring out of the empty void and into the world.  That was okay.  It wasn’t what really got my attention, though.

There was a neat, semicircular bite taken out of the world’s edge.  Cracks radiated outward from it over most of the courtyard like a madman’s conception of spokes in a wheel.  The center of that semicircle had been the Devourer.  That was a good thing, in and of itself, but…

…immediately behind it had been an altar…

…and Shada.

Shada is gone.  Dark-haired and beautiful…

“You must rise!” Keria screamed.  It was the first sound I heard since the blast.  “We have not the power to both hold these at bay and seal the barrier!  You
must
rise and take up arms!”

I gave my head a shake.  It didn’t come apart, but a reddish film seemed to obscure my vision.  Something in my chest felt missing, as though a hole had been carved through me.  I hadn’t realized how important she was to me.

Shada is gone.  Laughing eyes and smiling lips…

Linnaeus had Firebrand; he held it out and I took it.  I got to my feet.  I felt a slow throb, somewhere inside.  It wasn’t a heartbeat, no—it was more like a rhythmic flexing of my every cell
of my body, of my blood, in time with the adagio pulse of the universe.

Shada is gone.  Soft hands and soft voice…

Keria was still screaming something, trying to get me to answer her while the horde of Things came closer at a slithering, hopping, scrambling run.  Linnaeus was trying to add his two cents to whatever she was saying.

I looked at them and tried to say something.  I don’t know what.  All I heard was a low, animal snarl.  Keria’s eyes and mouth flew open, three perfect circles of shock and terror, and she promptly ran.  Something in me thought that was a good thing.  Another part wanted to chase her down and kill her—she was running, after all.  Linnaeus stood his ground and lowered his eyes—I think he sensed something atavistic and primal surfacing.

Shada… is dead.

But here are a lot of Things, and all of them are running.  Running toward me instead of away, foolish Things.  There are people here, hurting them, even killing them, but the humans will not interfere with me.  Firebrand feels light and quick in my grip as I move toward the Things, bounding down the tiers like a dancer.  All the world is reddish, hazy.  Fury escapes my heart at last, flooding outward like liquid fire, filling my body and mind.

I move forward to kill.

EPILOGUE

I
t was dark.  This was not the seething blackness of the Devourer-cloud, nor the cold emptiness of outer space.  It wasn’t the not-being-ness of nothing. This was a warm darkness, like an old bed at night.

“Sleep, shadow-child.”

I heard the voice, not as a voice, but as an awareness of intent.  I was so tired it felt and sounded like a very good idea.  But that curiosity itch…

“Who are you?”

I felt amusement in the voice.  “The aunt who took you home. The goddess you glorify.”

“That doesn’t really tell me anything.”

“You will discover my identity for yourself.  In that way, you will
know
, rather than simply be told.”

That made a sort of sense.  The lessons you learn on your own are yours forever.  I realized I wasn’t thinking clearly.  I was so tired.

“Why is it so dark?” I asked.

I felt lips once more upon my brow.

“You have done much in a short time, and it is a difficult thing to shift the fate of a world.  You are wearied and must take a great sleep.  You live longer than mortal men; you must sleep longer, as well.”

I didn’t want to, but I was so tired.  I sank down into sleep like death.  Dimly, I heard the voice again.

“I will wake you when it is time.”

And then I knew no more.