Sourcethief (Book 3) (57 page)

The demon's continued ferocity was amazing to
behold. His face was twisted in hatred, his sword arm inexhaustible. He seemed
more animal that human.

"You're frightened of me, aren't you?"
Kyrus asked. He had no need to shout, with the demon a mere swordlength from
him. "You hope to run me out of aether—you have no other option. Or do
you?"

Kyrus lifted Rashan and hurled him against the
palace wall. This time, he was not hurled through, but splayed against the
black marble and held there. Kyrus tore another chunk of the wall free, wards
sparking in protest but failing to prevent the vandalism. He brought the free
section around, and slammed it into Rashan. He sensed the working of some magic
from Rashan, and smiled. He pulled the section of wall back, and Heavens Cry
fell from the demon's hand, clattering off the side of the palace as it fell.

Rashan twitched, struggling to move against Kyrus's
hold. Kyrus slammed the loose section of wall into him again. He pressed it
there as he tore the bit around Rashan loose as well, and floated the two
chunks over to him, with Rashan between them like a paper press.

"This is simple enough," Kyrus said.
"You tell me what I need to save Brannis, and we both live. You're
certainly sturdy, but I have yet to strain myself against you." Kyrus
pulled the two sections apart, and slammed them together yet again. There was a
grunt from between them, but it sounded involuntary, rather than a plea to
bargain.

"Time grows short. If I must, I'll just kill
you and try on my own. I've been lucky before," Kyrus said, leaning down
to peer between the pieces of marble wall.

"Won't be ... this ..." Rashan managed.

"Bargain, then?" Kyrus asked. He twisted
and ground the sections together.

"Yes," Rashan slurred, his face mashed
between the slabs.

Kyrus lifted the top slab and eased his hold on
Rashan. The demon wobbled as he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees.

"Make it quick. Time is in short supply,"
Kyrus snapped.

"Well, first you must—"

The two slabs exploded. Kyrus bought his hands up to
cover his ears, though his shield prevented the shockwave from deafening him.
He was showered with bits of rock, and a cloud of dust billowed over him. He
felt Rashan slip free of his loosened hold.

Kyrus lost sight of the demon in the light, and he
was all but invisible in the aether. He coughed, and waved his hand about,
fanning away the smoke. Kyrus shook his head, ruing his own stupidity, and
cleared away the dust and smoke with a conjured wind.

Rashan was not gone, as Kyrus had first feared.
Instead, he had bolted for the palace wall. Kyrus saw him scoop up Heavens Cry,
and prepared for the demon to renew his attempts to batter through Kyrus's
shield. He smiled a lopsided, spiteful sneer, disdainful of Rashan's lack of
creativity. However, Rashan did not approach, nor even try some new way to
attack him.

A sphere of aether formed around the demon.

"No!" Kyrus screamed. Rashan was mocking
his urgency by fleeing the battle.

Or trying ...

Kyrus was not yet ready to concede the demon's
escape. Summoning forth a spell he had grown all too familiar with, he formed a
sphere of his own, and fled into the aether a blink's time after Rashan.

* * * * * * *
*

Kyrus found himself once more in the deepened abyss
between worlds, not knowing what to expect. It was a place of naught but
aether, and Rashan was notoriously difficult to discern by aether alone. It was
so barren compared to his other ventures from the palace and its environs,
sucked dry by him and Rashan in their duel.

A streaking trace dispelled any fears of losing
track of Rashan—he spooled a blue-white trail behind him. Though Kyrus could
not make out the form of the demon, he followed after the trail, gaining ground
with ease. Seeming to be aware of him, the trail veered and dodged, as a rabbit
trying to evade a fox. Unlike the fox, Kyrus was no less agile than his quarry,
and could not be shaken off the chase.

The trail in the aether slowed. Kyrus caught up to
it, but knew not what to do. He had never attempted to work magic in the deep
aether—he was fairly certain he was not even
there
in the purest sense.
He watched it, as unsure of what to do with his catch as the fisherman who
hooks the pier.

It vanished.

Kyrus's musing ended abruptly as he considered the
meaning. He looked back along the trail, mindful that Rashan might have been
clever enough to double back along exactly the same course. No, it had to be
the more obvious answer: Rashan had emerged on the other side.

Kyrus examined his surroundings. There were Sources
all about, human by their look, but he had devoted all his attention to keeping
Rashan in sight; he had spared no thought to where they were going.

* * * * * * *
*

Kyrus snapped back into the world of light in a
crowded marketplace. It looked as if they had not gone out of Kadris.

A beam of searing light caught Kyrus, shield and
all, and threw him down the street, bowling over a score of Kadrin peasants. He
was dazed, but otherwise unharmed, though the peasants in his path could not
have said the same. He scrambled to get his feet beneath him, glancing all
about, looking for the demon.

"Ready to kill more helpless Kadrins in your
vain quest, Brannis?" Rashan shouted over the screaming peasants, fleeing
to escape the newcomers. Kyrus was intrigued that the demon chose Acardian
instead of Kadrin—for all of its public calamity, their fight was private.

"Their blood is on your hands, not mine,"
Kyrus replied in kind.

"I saw you plow through the lot of them,"
Rashan countered. "You are the one who hit them."

"Enough nonsense. Are you willing to endanger
all these lives to keep your secret from me?" Kyrus asked. There had to be
some way of reasoning with the demon. It was not as if he could bash the
warlock's skull in and pour the answers out onto the cobblestones.

"These few lives? Gladly, to prevent the
catastrophe that would ensue. You mentioned Tallax ... the only reason he is
not alive today, and ruler of this world, is that he never found the way to
live beyond his years. I will be a hero and all will be forgiven among the
immortals if I put an end to you here."

Another beam of light lanced forth at Kyrus, but
this time he reacted, pulling in more aether to reinforce his shielding spell
before it hit. For a block in all directions, the folk of Kadris felt the draw,
and most did not withstand it.

"You see?" Rashan taunted. "You are a
menace!"

Kyrus snarled. He knew Rashan was twisting words,
that it was Rashan who was the menace, not him. He pictured the scene from just
moments ago: utter devastation, burnt bodies, the strongest shields of the
Inner Circle withered before his casual flick of aether.

A wave of hellfire poured down the street in
Rashan's direction. Kyrus squeezed the aether out of his Source to feed it.
Rashan ducked to the cobblestones, and Kyrus watched as the demon's shielding
spell shone, glowing against the fury of the devouring flames.

Kyrus had not expected it to kill Rashan—he still
needed information. He was already drawing once more as the demon picked
himself up, melted rock all around him. The street was in flame and ruin. Smoke
billowed from buildings to either side.

"I ask you again. How do I save Brannis?"
Kyrus asked. His voice broke as the realization hit him that Brannis lay
bleeding into his own guts, ready to die in seconds or hours, with no way to
tell for certain which.

"You do not."

Rashan disappeared once more into a sphere of
aether.

* * * * * * *
*

Kyrus saved his swearing and dove into the aether
behind Rashan. The blasted marketplace disappeared and he was in deep aether
once more. There was no time for doubt; all that had transpired was Rashan's
fault, and that would have to suffice for assuaging his conscience while he
hunted the demon.

The trail was easy to spot, whizzing off into the
distance. It was not dodging and darting about, but heading somewhere with
purpose. Kyrus knew not where Rashan might flee in a panic. Did he have a pact
with another demon, one of mutual defense in times of dire need? Did he have a
hideaway somewhere, where he might try to elude pursuit?

Kyrus followed the trail, gaining ground up until
the point where it once more disappeared from view. Kyrus examined his
surroundings, finding them rather barren of aether. Rashan's plan became clear:
remove aether from the battle, win with the sword.

* * * * * * *
*

Kyrus emerged into not the light, but the darkness.
The pocket of air he arrived in lasted but an instant before he was crushed by
an unfathomable weight of water. His shielding spell glowed against the
pressure that sapped its strength by the moment. It was not meant to handle
underwater conditions; it held up as best it could, protecting him against
being flattened, but it provided no air.

Kyrus clapped his hands over his mouth. He had been
unprepared for holding his breath. A gasp of surprise had nearly drowned him.
Thinking quickly, he lit the sea depths like noontime, spraying a dozen light
spells all about, lest Rashan unravel them and plunge him back into darkness.

The demon was not far, and drawing nearer. Rashan
cut through the water like a shark intent on prey, leading with Heavens Cry. He
needed no breath, seemed unbothered by the pressure, focused wholly on killing.
Rashan stabbed at Kyrus, hitting his shield, weakening it yet again. His
movements were slowed by the water, but it was scant comfort.

Kyrus was running low on aether, but he had no
choice. He would not last long beneath the sea without specialized magics that
he had never learned. He dug into the reserves of his own Source, feeling the
hollowness within as he surrounded both himself and Rashan, and threw them back
into the aether.

* * * * * * *
*

Strange worries scratched at the insides of Kyrus's
skull. Was he still holding his breath? Was Rashan going to continue attacking
him as he floated helplessly in the water? Could Rashan influence their course?

Of the first two, Kyrus could not be certain—would
not be certain—until they emerged somewhere. Kyrus thanked Fate, Tansha, and
whoever else might be willing to listen, that he was the only one guiding their
journey.

He took them up, seeking out the vast plane of
Sources that roughly defined ground level, and passed above. He allowed Kadris
to appear to him, and Pevett, using the two nearest large cities as guide
points. He headed northeast, to Podawei. From Juliana's description of it, the
place was brimming with aether.

* * * * * * *
*

A sphere of water splashed all around them as Kyrus
dumped them beneath the sentinel trees of the ancient forest home of the
immortals. He coughed and gasped, fighting to replace the air in his lungs so
that he might fight again. The saltwater drained into the greedy soil.

"You would have made a fine warlock,
Brannis," Rashan said. He stood dripping, looking like an angry young boy
caught out in the rain, holding his father's sword. Except for his eyes. Those
pale, heartless eyes betrayed the demon's age. "Who taught you all these
tricks? I have kept a careful enough watch that you haven't learned them from
the tower libraries."

"You killed Caladris, not his twin," Kyrus
said between breaths. "He aided me, as did Xizix, as did Illiardra. A
great many foes, old and new, were willing to teach, and tinker, and hint, but
none were willing to act, save through me."

"What wonderful friends I've had," Rashan
said, his voice flat. Kyrus thought he sounded ... wistful?

Rashan started to back away.

Kyrus felt a pang in his stomach as he followed.

"Not long now, is it?" Rashan asked,
noticing his discomfort. "I had hoped for a quick death with clean hands.
I would have made no move against you. We could have rebuilt Kadrin as the
power of the world. And then you could have died of age, like you were fated
to."

"So long as I can find you, I can keep hope
alive. I will beat the answers loose from your lying skull," Kyrus
promised.

"More certain of that, than you are of trying
on your own?" Rashan asked.

"I'd bet your life on it," Kyrus replied.

Rashan smiled, thumped a fist to his chest in
salute, and ventured once more into the aether.

"Slippery bastard." Kyrus swore to no one
but the trees, who were too polite to comment.

* * * * * * *
*

Another chase through the aether, and Kyrus emerged
on a wind-raked mountaintop. The damp, mossy ground that came with him from
Podawei rimed over in an instant. A shiver ran up the whole of his body before
he thought to warm himself with aether.

"I grow tired of this!" Kyrus shouted. He
turned about, taking in the expansive view in all directions. The ground
beneath his feet was uneven, but level enough that there was no fall close at
hand. There were juts and jags, and staccato breaks in the surface—plenty of
places to hide.