Sourcethief (Book 3) (58 page)

In the aether, Kyrus saw Heavens Cry, giving away
Rashan's position. It was tucked behind a rock outcropping, just a little
finger of grey poking up from the mountain. Kyrus attempted to draw, ready to
lay waste to Rashan's ambush spot, but found that there was scant aether to be
drawn. They were well above the tree line and any animal habitats. The only
aether of note was Kyrus's own, spilling forth from his Source.

Cool, smooth hands closed about Kyrus's neck.
Fingertips knifed in, clawing at his throat from behind. Kyrus screamed. Rashan
had not been hiding anywhere near Heavens Cry, but had crept behind him. His
voice carried out over the mountaintops, echoing back to him; his shield sparked
and crackled as it fought off Rashan's grasp. It would not be long before it
gave way, and then Kyrus would not be able to scream at all. The hands were
immovable as stone, Kyrus's own grip was a shabby thing by comparison, unable
to budge them, let alone break his grasp.

Grappling with the demon by telekinesis once more,
Kyrus pried Rashan loose, lifted him aloft, and slammed him into the
mountaintop. Kyrus quit pouring his aether into an attempt to keep the demon
still, and instead began a spell chant.

"
Eket jimagu denpek
—" Kyrus
chanted, pointing his fingers toward Rashan. He saw in the aether as Rashan's
shielding spell sprang into being.

Kyrus switched spells on Rashan. Instead of
completing the fire bolt spell he was chanting, he used the black lightning
spell that Lord Harwick had said worked so well for him—he cast it silently.

Rashan's shield was tailored to defend him from
fire. The lightning tore through it like paper, spending its wrath against the
demon's flesh, unhindered by his magical defenses.

"Excellent trick," Rashan mused, as he lay
charred and smoking on the rocks. Rashan pushed himself up to his elbows and
nodded approvingly.

Kyrus cast him a beleaguered look. What further
punishment could the demon stand? He felt empty inside, his last spell had dug
into his own Source for power.

"You spoke too much of your battle with Jinzan
Fehr in Zorren. You bragged of your trick of shielding spells," Kyrus
explained.

"Looks like that was not enough though. You
have reached the bottom of the bottle, and those dregs are not enough to finish
me off, nor to escape me." Rashan climbed to his feet, and retrieved
Heavens Cry from where it lay hidden as bait.

The end was at hand, it seemed. Brannis would last
long enough to tell Soria that he had failed, but little longer. Kyrus could
outdraw the demon easily, but there was no aether to be had, save for within
each of their Sources.

"This has been a greater challenge than I can
remember," Rashan said. He walked slowly toward Kyrus, who stood staring.

...
no aether to be had
...

"I will make sure that your part in this lives
on long after you are dead, Brannis," Rashan continued. "I bragged of
becoming a dragon slayer, but you ... you are unique, my greatest
accomplishment. I am stronger than I was when I faced Loramar, and yet you
still pushed me to my limits, where I could have crushed him were he still
alive today."

...
save for in our own Sources
.

Kyrus reached deep into his own Source, calling upon
all the aether that was left to him, trusting that there might be a bit left
afterward to allow him to survive.

A white-hot plume of hurled fire erupted from
Kyrus's outstretched hand, bathing Rashan in an inferno that he had once
described as dragonfire. Heavens Cry clattered to the rocks. Rashan was driven
back as the fires poured on. The rock beneath the demon's feet melted and
flowed.

When Kyrus stopped, he felt as if he had turned out
his Source as he would a pocket, dumping the contents upon the mountaintop. He
was empty, dizzy, wobbling on his feet—but alive.

There was a stirring from the cooling puddle of
molten rock. Rashan was clawing his way toward Heavens Cry.

"Last effort," the demon gasped. "Not
quite ... enough. I'll ... heal ... in a few ... moments. Then ... you
die."

Kyrus smiled. In the aether, he had noticed
something that Rashan seemed not to: the demon's Source was cracked and
leaking.

Rashan stiffened, stopped dead in his crawl.
"Brannis, what are you doing?"

"I've got hold of your Source, demon,"
Kyrus replied. He felt his strength returning as he refilled the emptiness from
Rashan's own life essence.

"What? That's not possible," Rashan
protested. "Stop!"

"I'll agree to stop, but you know my
terms," Kyrus said. "I have better things to do than finish you off.
Speak quickly. I will not let you go until I am convinced you speak truly. You
have until your Source runs dry."

Kyrus knew that the demon's Source had to have been
powerful, but it was a richer well of aether than he had realized. Still, while
Kyrus had hold of it, any attempt to free himself with magic was just going to
hasten his own demise.

"You swear?" Rashan pleaded.

"I do, and my word is more than a trifle better
than yours."

"I was Agga, but Agga was dying. Nevermind how
I discovered the secret, but I had to take Agga's Source to complete my
own," Rashan began. "A puzzle with two pieces." Kyrus nodded
along, playing a hand of Crackle for the chance that Rashan would not try to
bluff his way to freedom and Brannis's death. He could afford to give nothing
away.

"I stumbled upon the immortals by chance,
looking for the gate to Tellurak. There used to be dozens of such gates, but I
found one in their safekeeping. In those days, proving that I knew the reason
for my trip and being able to activate the gate were all they needed to see to
allow me passage. They were ready to welcome a rare birth: one of their own
kind," said Rashan. Kyrus continued his draw against the demon's Source.
There was aether aplenty left, but he had plumbed its depth, and knew that
Rashan would have to hurry to finish his tale and seal the bargain if he was to
live.

"Then what?" Kyrus asked.

"I found Agga. It was easy, I knew I was
coming. I went to my own fortress, ordered my own guards to allow me in, and I
claimed my Source. From that moment, I was immortal: one perfect Source, formed
of two imperfect pieces."

"How?" Kyrus demanded. "What ritual?
Describe it?"

"Is this the test of my truthfulness?"
Rashan asked. "The trip between worlds is the trick. There is no ritual!
Draw
his
Source out, and it will fit snugly with yours. Every
mortal-born demon has done it."

"And what of Agga? What happened to him?"

"Agga?" Rashan asked, incredulous. "I
am
Agga!"

Kyrus nodded.
I think I finally understand.

"Very well, Agga. I think you should know that
my true name is Kyrus Hinterdale—"

"Why would I—"

"... and I am the one who kills you."

Kyrus increased his draw. Rashan shrieked.

"I told you everything! You swore!" the
demon protested.

"And I would gladly trade my honor for the
lives of all those you might one day murder. I could not live with myself
otherwise. Besides," Kyrus said, pausing theatrically to look all around
the mountaintop, "it never happened."

"You deceitful, lying ... I hope they hunt you
to the ends of the aether!"

"You should appreciate this. This is Rashan's
Bargain."

One final tug, and Rashan collapsed, a husk emptied
of its aether.

Once more the inhabitants of Podawei gathered to
watch the fate of one of their own play before them. This time however, a
mortal was present among them. The sky was darkened, and the pool at the center
of the clearing of pines and oaks reflected scenes of a far-off battle. Juliana
Archon huddled at the side of the shepherdess of pictures, hugging her knees to
her chest.

It was surreal—all of it. She was surrounded by
beings whose total age rivaled the stars in the sky, who had personally known
the gods, who watched beside her in horrified fascination as one of their own
was put to flight by Kyrus and his ravenous Source.

Juliana cried out in anguish at the destruction of
the palace courtyard in Kadris. Her family had been among those in attendance.
Her parents had to have been there; she knew not whether her sisters or cousins
had arrived from their far-flung corners of the empire.

"I am sorry, child," Illiardra said at her
shoulder.

Juliana turned and saw the ageless compassion in the
demon's eyes. She murmured a thank you and returned her gaze to the pool.

She watched with spiteful glee as Kyrus—showing a
pitiless determination that she had wondered if he possessed—ground Rashan
between chunks of the palace wall. Rashan was getting his comeuppance at last.

When they both disappeared into transference
spheres, the immortal viewers lost them briefly. Illiardra found them a moment
later in the streets of Kadris. Kyrus burned down a whole district before
forcing Rashan to flee once more, great splashes of water left in their places.

Illiardra was again able to locate Kyrus and Rashan,
deep beneath Kadris Harbor. Juliana watched as Kyrus struggled for breath,
Rashan slashing at him over and over. She reached out and grabbed Illiardra by
the arm.

"You have to save him, please just—"

And then they were gone once more.

"Child, we will not interfere," Illiardra
told her.

Juliana felt the shock in the aether as Kyrus
emerged from his transference spell. It had come from nearby. She moved to
stand, but it was Illiardra's turn to take her by the arm.

"No, they are not so close as you might
think," said Illiardra. She gestured to the pond once more where Kyrus was
facing down Rashan somewhere in Podawei. "The forest is vaster than you
realize."

They stayed not long in the elder wood, but
disappeared once more, shaking the aether yet again. Illiardra found them on a
mountaintop in the Cloud Wall. The gathered immortals watched as their chosen
champion was nearly defeated. There were gasps and mutterings when Kyrus broke
Rashan's immortal Source, and extorted the secret of the immortals from him.
They gaped when Kyrus killed him anyway.

"Tallax ..." Illiardra whispered. She had
uttered it so softly that Juliana suspected she was not meant to hear it.

Juliana watched in the glassy water as Kyrus took a
moment to gather himself. He picked up Heavens Cry and examined it. Juliana saw
that it was blackened and scorched, but could not tell whether anything else
was amiss with it. Kyrus tucked it into his belt, the sheath having been
reduced to cinders by Kyrus's hurled fire.

"Disperse, all of you!" Illiardra shouted.
"He will come."

* * * * * * *
*

Brannis groaned. Soria brushed sweat-soaked hair
from his brow. He opened his eyes, looking up at her in the faded light of the
crescent moon.

"I have a plan ..."

* * * * * * *
*

Moments later, in Podawei Wood, Kyrus appeared in
the air as his transference spell delivered him safely from the mountaintop. He
floated gently to the ground, taking his time to avoid hurling chunks of earth
halfway across Veydrus.

Juliana rushed into his arms and crushed him in a
hug.

"It is done. Rashan Solaran is dead,"
Kyrus said. He extracted himself from Juliana's embrace, and pulled Heavens Cry
from his belt holding it forth as proof. "I left his body on some unnamed
rock in the Cloud Wall mountain range."

"That mountain has had fourteen names I am
aware of," Illiardra corrected him. "Kadrin cartographers would call
it Flat Peak Mountain. Rashan no doubt chose it as his final stand for the
plateaued peak upon which to battle."

Kyrus swallowed. "You ... saw that?"

Illiardra clasped her hands. "Yes, we
did."

"It's fine, Kyrus, you don't need to be ashamed
of lying to that monster," Juliana assured him. "I won't tell anyone,
either."

"You saw too—" Kyrus began. He hung his
head. "What right do I have to name him the monster? I won my victory, but
at what cost?"

Tears rimmed Juliana's eyes. Kyrus knew what he had
done; he pulled her close and let her sob against his shoulder. "I'm so
sorry," he spoke softly into her ear.

Time paused, it seemed, until Juliana had wept her
most immediate sorrows onto Kyrus's tunic. She then pushed him back.
"Kyrus," Juliana said, sniffing to hold back further tears, "we
have to hurry. We can't just stand here."

Kyrus nodded. "Illiardra, if you were
listening, you know Rashan told me you have a portal here that can take me to
Tellurak. My twin is dying; I intend to save him. Will you help me?"

"A horse has escaped your stable,"
Illiardra replied. "Would you then build a wall around the kingdom, lest
it flee abroad? Would you build that wall high, lest it leap? Top it with
spikes, in case it learned to climb? Construct a dome on the chance it might
fly? You have a small problem with a horse. You need not undertake such a
remedy to resolve it. Let the horse go free."

"This is not about a horse, this is
me
.
This is my twin, my other half," Kyrus spouted. "I haven't the time
to argue. Will you help me or won't you?"

"We will not."

"Juliana's twin told me that you would sooner
destroy the gate than see me use it. Would you? Truly?"

"Yes."

"Then destroy it," Kyrus said. "If
you will not let me through to Tellurak because you fear what I might become,
destroy it, lest I find some clever way past you, or some future sorcerer
becomes just as great a threat."

"Why would you have us sunder a gift from the
gods?" Illiardra asked. "If you know we would destroy it if you
attempt to use it, why would you force our hand?"

Kyrus gritted his teeth and measured his breaths as
he studied the inscrutable old demon. He suspected he could not beat her at
chess, but Crackle ... Crackle was a game of nerve.

"Fine," Kyrus relented. "Bring
Juliana's ship here, and we will leave by it. I find my Source is a bit
battered at the moment to try another transference spell, and I have no desire
to remain here."

"Kyrus, how can you give up so easily?"
Juliana protested—convincingly, Kyrus thought.

"I cannot stop them destroying the
portal," Kyrus reasoned. "All I can do is force them to ruin
something given to this world by the gods. It would be vain of me to do
so."

"But—"

"It will be all right. Just stay by Brannis in
his final hours," Kyrus said. To Illiardra he added. "Bring the ship.
I would prefer us to be alone—without curious eyes intruding on our
grief."

"Very well," said Illiardra. She vanished,
and all Kyrus felt was a tingling in the aether.

"I wish I knew how she did that," Juliana
said.

"Patience," Kyrus whispered in her ear.

A moment later, Illiardra appeared again, with the
Starlit
Marauder
bobbing in mid-air beside her. The runes glowed but dimly in the
aether.

"Will this get us back to Kadris?" Kyrus
asked.

"I know little of the workings of your
contraption," Illiardra replied. "It will get you away from this
place. I suppose I need not tell you that neither of you are welcome back.
Juliana, I am sorry for the tragedy to which you return." Juliana hung her
head.

"Understood," Kyrus replied. "Come
on, Juliana, let's go home."

* * * * * * *
*

"Just don't say anything," Brannis warned.
"We want to be sure that if they are watching, they have no time to react
to stop us." He lay on the rocky stream bed, eyes closed. The pained look
on his face was the only sign he was awake when he was not speaking.

"This is crazy," Soria told him. "You
know that, right?"

"You don't have to come."

"Of course I do!"

"Then steer us between those oaks, and hold
tight."

* * * * * * *
*

They were sailing the skies just above the treetops,
still within the borders of the elder forest. Kyrus walked to the prow of the
Starlit
Marauder
and set his hands on the railing, leaning out to look down to the
forest below. With a turn and a nod to Juliana, the ship descended amid the
canopy.

Leaves and smaller branches brushed the ship, the
latter scraping along the hull or snapping. Kyrus's shielding spell bore a blow
here and there, but it was the lightest duty the spell had seen all morning.
The old trees grew close, but only in relation to their scale. The trunks were
far enough apart in places that a spear could not be hurled from one to the
next. The branches, however, intermingled in the upper reaches.

Kyrus raised a hand and Juliana stopped the ship's
slow drift. Reaching up, Kyrus grabbed branches from two separate trees, each
no larger than a finger.

"Hold tight," he called back to Juliana.

With a great pull, Kyrus drew forth directly from
the Sources of the majestic oaks, draining them, but not quite dry. An instant
later, Kyrus used the immense well of aether to envelop the
Starlit Marauder
in a transference sphere of a size he had never before dared attempt.

The ship and her crew of two reckless twinborn leapt
into the deep aether.

* * * * * * *
*

There was no sense of ship, no Juliana—just as there
had been no Rashan when he brought the demon along—as Kyrus began his journey.
The lightness he had always felt during transference now carried with it a
subtle heft. He doubted the weight of the ship was the issue, since he had
transferred with whole spheres of water and never noticed the effect. The size
of the sphere was what sucked at his Source, demanding more aether than he had
ever required before.

There was no time for delays, either for Brannis or
for Kyrus's Source. Kyrus wondered briefly at the damage he might be causing
the elder forest as he increased his draw. He set a simple heading: up.

Though his bodiless form reacted sluggishly, he
increased his speed, approaching the dizzying velocities that he had achieved
on his trip from Tellurak to Veydrus. He shot out of the sea of Sources that
made up Veydrus, and into the empty depths beyond. Kyrus could not close his
eyes—he had none to close. Instead, he approximated that mental state that
accompanies an attempt to sleep. He let his thinking mind grow dull and weary,
and let feeling guide him.

He intuited a change in course, but knew not whether
it was only a few degrees or they had come full circle. They were beyond sight
of the distant well of aether they had started from, caught out in the
nothingness.

But it was not quite a nothingness. Kyrus's
aether-vision has been stretched and strengthened during his time among the
sorcerers of Veydrus. He had grown accustomed to its look, its subtleties. He
noticed something that—amid all the swirls of the Veydran aether—had long gone
unnoticed. A thin filament of aether wended its way off toward the infinity
into which he stared. It was tied at one end to his own Source. The other end
was somewhere out there, and they followed it along its course.

Brannis. This is the thread that
connects us. I must have felt it on my first journey between worlds and
followed it
.

The realization firmed his confidence. Kyrus renewed
his efforts to propel them, sure of his course. They hurtled through the deep
aether, the near void, for how long, Kyrus could not say. He felt the weariness
creeping over him. He felt the emptiness inside once more, as he had when he
fought Rashan. His Source had not much left to give him.

There was no horizon in the aether, but Kyrus saw in
the distance, a knot of blue-white. He hoped they would make it ...

* * * * * * *
*

The little world inside the sphere of aether shook.
Juliana cowered behind the captain's wheel, holding fast to the lower grips and
to her Source. Whatever Kyrus was doing was tearing at it, threatening to rip
it out entirely. She felt the gale of aether passing into the sphere from the
outside.

Kyrus, you blazing idiot, you're
going to kill me before we get there
!

But before her prediction could come true, the
sphere vanished. She had never been inside one when a transference spell ended,
but the shockwave felt far worse inside the aether than it had as a mere
witness to the transfer.