To Whatever End (Echoes of Imara Book 1) (43 page)

Cecily’s mouth hung open as her heart pounded and she fought to keep the tears from flowing again. For that tiny moment, he had broken through. She knew that had been him; she just had to find a way to help him out of the prison that still caged him.

She stood and Reached for him with her Wielding Energy, letting it surround him. She spread it out and it drifted over him so she could feel the shape of his body underneath. She closed her eyes and Pushed, applying just the slightest touch of Pressure, and enveloped him in a soft caress. The sound of her heart echoed in her ears and she held her touch, squeezing him as if he was in her arms.

A little rivulet of energy traveled back along her Wield. Trailing up, it wove its way around her Reach, tentative like a new lover’s hand. It stole into her and gave her a brush of Pressure as it passed through. It happened so quickly, she was almost uncertain she had felt it.

She opened her eyes. Daro lay still, his eyes still locked on the ceiling. It wasn’t much, but it was something. She sat in the chair and settled herself in. Leaning back, she crossed her feet at the ankles and laid her hands in her lap. He was in there somewhere, and she would stay with him for as long as it took to find his way out.

***

Daro flinched as the silence of his refuge broke. The walls he had built were thick; they kept the voices outside where they couldn’t touch him. He knew there was chaos out there, a swirling vortex of terrifying power. Outside, he had no control. The pieces of his mind would rip apart, torn away like red and brown leaves in an autumn windstorm. He crouched down and clutched at the pieces of himself, trying to hold them together.

A sensation drifted in and pressed at him, insistent but gentle. It wasn’t fear, or pain. It was familiar, a voice that promised relief. A serene tendril of energy curled around him and wrapped him in a subtle embrace. Something had gone missing, leaving a gaping wound inside. The tendril filled it and began to piece it back together. The walls of his refuge held steady, but a slow fissure split across the roof, like crack in the ice of a frozen lake.

43. TO WHATEVER END

A low rumble worked its way into Cecily’s consciousness and her eyes fluttered open. Daro lay on the floor, his eyes closed, the shackles spreading his arms wide. She sat up and stretched, her back sore from sitting on the hard chair. She must have fallen asleep. Boom. It was faint and distant.
Maybe a storm?

She stood and looked around the room. It didn’t sound like thunder. She glanced down at Daro and his eyes flew open. She startled and stepped away. He lay still, his eyes wide open and locked on the ceiling.

She decided to find out what was going on outside. Callum answered her knock and let her out. As she stood in the open foyer, a refreshing rush of energy radiated through her. The sunstones were saturated with Daro’s seemingly endless well of energy, but they still pulled at her and left her feeling weak and tired. No wonder she had fallen asleep.

“What’s going on? Is it a storm?” she asked.

Callum shrugged. “Could be. It’s been raining all day.”

“I feel like I’ve been shut away for days,” Cecily said as she rubbed her eyes. “Anything new out here?”

“Rogan and Alastair have been in the Paragon’s study for a while. It sounds like they rounded up some of the riverboat Wielders to divert storm water and flood the tunnels we found. I haven’t heard if anyone got out.”

“I don’t think we’ll be so lucky as to drown Nihil like a rat. But it is a satisfying thought.”

Callum smiled, one side of his mouth curling up, and he raised his eyebrows. “It is, isn’t it? In any case, the Paragon and Rogan have this place locked down like a vault. They cleared the library completely and the students are in their dormitories. Rogan brought a contingent of his own guard, and the Lyceum Guard are on full alert.” He leaned in and lowered his voice. “I have some of my own men out there too. One can’t be too careful.”

The foyer of the top floor wound around the circumference of the building, a chest-high wall circling the interior. Rooms and offices were spaced around the outside, their windows facing the Lyceum grounds. Alcoves were interspersed between the rooms, with cushioned benches and outward facing windows. The foyer was dotted with beautifully polished tables and ornately cushioned seating, a place the highest ranking Magisters used at their leisure. Cecily and her friends had taken over the top floor, sleeping on the benches and lounging in the chairs. Guards were posted near the stairwell and several more stood at the doors to the Paragon’s study.

Sumara got up from her perch on an upholstered bench. “I’m not sure I like the sound of that,” she said and glanced up at the dome as another boom echoed through the building.

Edson wandered over, followed closely by Griff and Serv. Edson jerked at the next crack of sound and grabbed the hilt of his sword. “What’s going on out there?”

“Thunder?” Griff asked.

A loud blast reverberated through the building. “That’s not thunder,” Serv said.

Rogan and Alastair emerged from the Paragon’s office, Windsor close behind. A messenger burst through the door from the stairs and stopped to speak with the Paragon as Rogan and Alastair stood close.

Merrick and Mira trotted over, circling around the inside of the round foyer. “We’re under attack,” Merrick said.

“Someone is coming toward the library, and they’re cutting through the guards like they’re children,” Mira said.

“Nihil,” Cecily breathed. She wondered how many of those aberrant Wielders he had.

Rogan and Alastair hurried over. “Nihil is attacking,” Rogan said. “Reports from below indicate he has a small force of men, but the guards haven’t been able to hold them back.”

“It doesn’t matter that his force is small,” Cecily said. “We know how powerful they are.” She flinched as a loud boom echoed through the dome and the building shuddered. “We need to call up the guards from the lower levels. Once Nihil gets in, the guards downstairs won’t be able to hold them back. We can make a stand here with a larger force.”

Rogan nodded to Alastair, who ran to relay the order.

“Should we barricade the door?” Griff asked, pointing to the furniture placed around the foyer.

“No,” Cecily said. “Barricade or no, they’ll get through. Turn the furniture over to give us cover.” The building shook and another loud boom sounded from below. Guards poured in from the stairwell on the far side of the foyer. “Station the archers around the railing on this side. They can fire at the door once they come in. And be careful of fire. Nihil’s Wielders might try to light this place up like a torch.” She cringed inside at the thought of all those books on the floors below.

“Merrick and Mira, take opposite sides,” she continued. “Stay back and make every shot count. Sumara, don’t hesitate to strike Nihil if you get a clear shot; give him everything you have. Otherwise, aim for the others and don’t expend everything at once. And find yourself a weapon.”

Sumara smiled and patted her hip. “I’m not without protection.”

“Griff,” she said as she looked up at the big man’s eyes. “Charge in after the archers get off a few rounds. But don’t forget, these aren’t thieves and mercenaries. They’ve almost killed us more than once, and we’ve only faced a few of them. Don’t get in over your head.”

Griff smiled and lugged his axe onto his shoulder. “I look forward to removing some heads.”

She turned to Serv and he pursed his lips in a small smile. “Just, be careful,” she said. “And look out for Edson.”

Serv nodded and Edson rested his hand on the hilt of his sword.

“If defending the library doesn’t get you entrance into the Lyceum, I don’t know what will,” she said to Edson. “Rogan, with all due respect, you have to keep yourself out of the line of fire.” She looked up at her king. “Halthas can’t afford to lose a king tonight. Stay behind your guards and don’t try to do anything heroic.”

Rogan smiled with narrowed eyes. “Yes, sir.”

Callum clasped his hands and turned his fingers inside out, cracking his knuckles. “I have some new tricks I’ve been dying to try out,” he said, his voice flippant. “Of course, if I have anything to say about it, I won’t be the one doing the dying.”

Another boom crashed below. They’d be inside the library soon. “I know I brought you all into this,” she said as she looked around at her friends. “This didn’t have to be your fight.” Boom, the building shook. “He’s just one man, and I shouldn’t have expected you to put yourselves in danger for him. But you did. Whatever happens, I want you all to know, I could never repay you for what you’ve done for us.” She glanced back at the door to his cell. “And if they’re coming for Daro, you can be damned sure they aren’t getting him.”

The companions began to spread out to take up their positions, turning over furniture to provide cover. Serv hung back and pulled out a narrow sword. The blade was fairly short, with the slight curve of Serv’s own weapon. He held it out horizontally, placed the hilt in one hand, and rested the end of the blade on his other palm. “You might need this,” he said and held it out to her.

Cecily smiled and grabbed the hilt. She swung it a few times, getting a feel for the weapon. She was certainly no expert swordswoman, but Daro had taught her to use a blade. “I could have used one of these a few times over the last few months,” she said. “Thank you.”

Serv nodded, put his hand to his chest, and gave her a shallow bow.

Cecily walked over to the railing and crouched down behind the half wall, away from the door to the stairs. She had a clear view of Daro’s cell but didn’t want to lead Nihil or his men straight to him. Her heart thumped with anticipation, an all-too-familiar feeling of the inevitable crashing toward her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The coming battle filled her with apprehension, but she owned it and let determination rise to swallow her fear.

A great crash resonated from below, the sound of splintering wood and scraping metal echoing up into the dome. They were inside. Cecily waited, forcing herself to breathe slowly, and listened to the sounds of the guards left below mounting their defense. Metal clashed on metal, explosions rang out and men shouted orders, the noise drifting up from the lower levels. She wondered if Pathius was with them. Would he fight against her this time?

The din grew louder as the battle ranged up the stairs, climbing from level to level. Cecily glanced over at Callum. He smirked and gave her a wink. Shouting rang out and the noise grew, the pounding of feet on the stairs. Something hit the stairwell door, a loud bang that made Cecily blink. Another crash, and the door flew off its hinges and toppled to the floor. Cecily kept her back to the half wall and rose from her crouch, just enough to turn her head over her shoulder and see the door.

A blast of dust clouded the doorway. Men in masks, dressed in black from head to toe, burst onto the foyer and spread out quickly. The archers struck, sending a volley of arrows at the men coming in through the door. One of the masked men lifted a hand and some of the arrows burst into flames before they cleared the opening in the center of the foyer. The rest clattered against a wall that suddenly sprang up, dissipating as the arrows hit.

Behind the disappearing wall, one of the masked figures held out her hands and two shining blades shimmered into existence.
Damn, Isley is still alive.
Another circled around her, his black clothes obscured by stones, fitted together like armor around his body. An arrow bounced off the stone at his shoulder and he turned, his heavy stride making the floor shake.

Cecily waited as more arrows flew. She kept the sword clutched in one hand and glanced back at the door.
Are you here, or did you send your lackeys to do all the work for you?
She wanted Nihil.

A woman walked through the door, her face bare, dark blond hair pulled back in a low ponytail. She fell back to one side and lifted her hand to her chest to clutch something that hung from her neck. Her gaze swept the foyer and she called out, barking orders at the masked Wielders, and pointed with her other hand. One of the masked men stood in front of her, as if to shield her from attack.

Lightning bolts shot across the foyer, and the loud crack shocked Cecily’s ears. One of the bolts hit a masked man in the shoulder and sent his upper body reeling backward. He righted himself and shook it off, rolling his shoulder and continuing into the foyer. Another bolt shot by and left a black streak on the wall.

The arrows continued, slicing through the air with a swish, bows twanging. Mira’s arrows curved, darting up and down, only to be batted out of the air or bounce uselessly off the stone man. Another arrow shot toward Isley but she blocked it with a shield and the arrow clattered to the floor.

Two more men emerged from the doorway. One was masked like the others, but he wore a winding chain around his body that covered him like armor. It moved, coiling around him like a snake, the ends dripping from his hands like a living thing. He twirled the ends and swung them around in a wide circle as he stalked into the foyer. Behind him came a man with a bare face, clean shaven with short dark hair, peppered with gray. He wore long black robes, much like a Magister of the Lyceum.
That’s him.