Centyr Dominance (14 page)

They will pay for this!
roared
Cassandra in her mind.
This city will burn!

In due time,
agreed
Moira, understanding her dragon’s sentiment. Her heart was numb, though as if
she had forgotten how to feel.
Was this how it was for father, when he saw
his father die in front of him?
She still remembered the look on his face
when he had told her the story of her grandfather’s death.

“I could have saved him, but I couldn’t do
everything at once. I was alone, and despite all my powers, I was helpless to
stop the bleeding, remove the arrow, maintain his heart, and repair the damage
to the muscle. All I could do was ease his passing,”
her
father had told her.

A decision formed within her, a resolve that went
beyond conscious thought. Without fully knowing what she meant to do Moira
stepped forward, walking until she was close enough to reach up and touch
Grace’s tail where it hung above her. The heart was still beating, although it
was slower now, and the rhythm was faltering. Ignoring the pain in her skull,
she stretched out her aythar and used it to help support Grace’s struggling
heart.
Lend me your power,
she told Cassandra.

A surge of aythar rushed into her, sending waves of
pain rippling through Moira. She still hadn’t recovered from the feedback when
her shield had been broken earlier.
Using your power now is unwise.
That
warning came from her other self, the spell-twin that still haunted the back of
her mind.

I don’t care,
Moira
answered.
Help me.

How?

The young wizardess showed her the vision that was
forming in her mind, and her spell-twin nodded in agreement,
as you wish.

Moira began feeding aythar to her other self, and she
felt again the strange wonder as her mind began to fragment. Except it wasn’t
a sensation of breaking, or of becoming smaller, it was a feeling of growth.
Her other self swelled with the power Moira was giving her and as she split
into multiple new copies Moira felt as though she were growing ever larger.

The agony in her skull became more intense as she
channeled Cassandra’s aythar into her spellmind copies, but she forced herself
to continue. She only had to deal with the pain. She only had one task. Her
twins felt none of that pain, and they would do what needed doing.

Moira expanded, becoming first ten and then twenty.
One part of her was on fire, burning as her mind sent forth the aythar that the
others needed to work. The rest of her was ready, focused and calm. Once she
had grown great enough, the voice of the one in pain cried out,
do it!

A dozen things happened at once. Grace’s body was
lifted, pulled from the wooden spike that pierced her and laid gently to rest
on the ground, while simultaneously the hole in her chest closed. The arteries
and veins that pulsed with rushing blood found their separate parts and closed,
keeping what remained of the dragon’s blood in the veins where it was needed.
Her jaw realigned itself, and the bones fused again becoming whole even as the
skin and muscles were brought back into place and mended. Even the crack in
her skull was fixed.

Less than half a minute had passed, and now Moira’s
other selves began to work on the internal organs, knitting the intestines and
liver back together and sealing a myriad of smaller blood vessels.

***

Chad watched in steadily growing amazement. He
generally didn’t concern himself with magic, or the doings of wizards, but
despite his insouciance he had spent an inordinate amount of time around them
over the years. He had watched Mordecai heal on numerous occasions, and he
knew that what he was seeing now was unusual.

His careful eyes also noted the subtle tremor in her
stance as she worked—and the new blood that had begun to drip from Moira’s
nose.

She had been badly battered when he found her, one eye
swollen shut and a cheek that looked as if the bones underneath had moved to places
they shouldn’t be. While he didn’t know much about how magic worked, he had
heard the Countess complain often enough about the strain it had placed on her
husband in the past, and the times he had nearly killed himself by trying to
push beyond his limits.

Worried he stepped closer, “Hey, I think you’ve done
enough, lass. Save your strength, we still haven’t made it out yet.” His
voice sounded strange, there was a ringing so loud in his left ear that he
could barely hear his own words; his right ear offered only silence. He lifted
a hand to touch her shoulder, but he stopped when she turned and faced him
suddenly.

“Do not interfere with us. We are not finished.” Two
eyes stared back at him from an unblemished face as Moira walked toward him,
warning him away with upraised hands.

He blinked, hard. The girl in front of him looked to
be Moira Illeniel, but she wasn’t. She had stepped
out
of Moira. There
were two of them now. The original still stood facing the dragon, her body
shaking and looking as though she might collapse at any time.

“What the hell?!” he finally managed to say. Glancing
past the newcomer, he saw Moira sway, as if she were about to fall. “She can’t
take much more of this.” He attempted to move around the doppelganger, but she
sidestepped to block his path.

“You’ll only make things worse, if you interrupt
before we are finished,” warned the girl in front of him. As she spoke the
original Moira’s legs started to give way, but a third copy appeared and caught
her fall, holding her upright. There were three of them now.

Chad was used to being given stupid orders, and just
as used to ignoring them, “This ain’t right. She needs to stop.” Pushing the
girl aside, he tried to get to Moira’s original body.

There was a moment of contact, when he felt the copy’s
body under his hand, but then she dissolved. He shivered as he felt her slide
through his skin, and then she was gone. Standing utterly still, he struggled
to understand what had happened before continuing onward, to help Moira.

Except that he didn’t. His body stubbornly refused to
move. Instead, he turned and found himself scanning the streets to see if any
more of the city’s weird citizens were approaching. Confusion grew as he
started walking, moving away to scout the path ahead. He thought that the road
ahead and then to the left at the next crossing, would lead them out, but he
wasn’t certain.
What am I doing? This isn’t what I fucking meant to do!

Don’t struggle.
It
was Moira’s voice in his mind.

Get out of my head, wench! I don’t need
some stupid…
His thoughts stopped there, and he found
himself mute, even within his own mind.

That’s enough of that language. I’ve been
thinking you could use some improvements. This is a perfect opportunity to
smooth some of those rough edges,
she commented.

He had no idea what she meant, but a feeling of stark
fear gripped him.

Don’t worry. It won’t hurt. You’ll be
better than before, and much nicer…

Stop!
Somehow he thought
the new voice was different, even though it sounded like Moira as well.
You
will not alter him. Just keep him still until we are done.

Chad felt a sense of disappointment from his captor.
Very
well. I will fix his ears, though. Unless you consider that to be
‘interfering’ as well.

A feeling of warmth began in his right ear, followed
by a milder sensation in his left. His hearing improved greatly, and although
the ringing didn’t completely stop it was considerably reduced.

For a moment he was free, and he turned back to look
at the wounded dragon. Grace’s body was covered in blood, but it looked intact
now, her head had regained its customary shape and the gaping hole in her torso
was gone. Moira had gone limp, her battered body supported by two seeming
clones on either side. Her head had fallen forward, and her chin nearly
touched her chest.

More copies stepped out of her, and soon she was
surrounded by a crowd of look-alikes. They faced inward, eyes closed, almost
as if they were praying over the body of their progenitor, when suddenly the
battered girl’s body went rigid, her head upright.

As he watched her face moved as though something were
crawling beneath the skin of her cheek. Belatedly, he realized it was the
bones moving to realign themselves. The scrapes and cuts on that side of her
head closed, and within moments she looked much better. Almost invisible lines
showed where she had been cut, and the only sign of her previously broken bones
was a slight swelling on that side of her face.

Blood still dripped from her nose, though, and her
visage was marked by a tightening that suggested she was trying to hide an
intense inner pain.

Moira’s eyes opened, gazing into space at something
Chad couldn’t see. Then her duplicates began stepping inward, superimposing
themselves on her body before vanishing. Seconds later they were alone.

The hunter stared a moment longer before looking away,
“Well fuck me.”

Moira’s mind shrank as her duplicate selves collapsed
inward until at last there were only two remaining, her and her
spellmind-twin. Much of the pain that had emanated from her face and other
places on her body was gone, but the agony in her skull was even more intense.

She released the shield she had created around herself
and felt some of the strain ease.
I need to rest.

Grace’s body was still, but her heart still beat, and
her chest moved slowly as she breathed. She was alive but unconscious. Her
body was still damaged in ways that went beyond the ability of ordinary
wizardry to heal, but Moira hoped time would mend the rest.

Cassandra brought her head closer, sniffing as she
examined her smaller companion,
Will she recover?

Moira wasn’t entirely sure.
My father created you
to house the immense energy that he took from the gods, part of the enchantment
uses that power to fuel your rapid growth, but it also gives your kind an
amazing ability to regenerate from almost any wound—or so he told me. I can
only hope that today will give us a proof of that ability,
she answered.

What of her mind? Her skull was cracked.
Her brains could be scrambled.

I know more about that,
replied
the young wizard.
Her true mind is a spell construct; so long as the brain
can physically heal, the memories and the knowledge that make her who she is,
will survive.

“I hate to interrupt your moment of silence,”
interrupted the ranger, “but there are more people coming. We need to leave.”

Of course, the archer had had no way of knowing that a
conversation he couldn’t hear had been going on. Moira spoke aloud, pleased
that she was again able to hear the sound of her own voice, “Cassandra, can you
carry Grace out of here?”

Barely, I think. But what about
yourself? I cannot carry you and the other two if I’m trying to lift her.

“We can walk. We will meet you outside the city,
where we first parted. Keep a close guard on Grace until we get there,” said
Moira.

But…

“No arguments. Go, we don’t have time to debate
this,” ordered Moira. She and Chad helped Stretch get the Baron into place on
his back, while Cassandra gently cradled the smaller dragon in her claws. The
massive dragon rose into the air with a rush of air as her wings beat fiercely
to get her and her precious cargo off the ground.

Moira let the hunter lead the way. She could already
sense the great wall that encircled Halam in the distance. They didn’t have
much farther to go, but there were also more people approaching. The first
three were running toward them from a cross street at the next intersection.

She winced at the thought of using her magic again,
but Chad was already moving. “Save your strength,” he called back.

Sprinting forward, the ranger drew two long knives.
His opponents moved awkwardly, like children, enthusiastic but clumsy as they
attacked him with improvised clubs that looked to have been part of an
unfortunate chair until recently. The veteran ducked and cut, taking one in
the throat and hamstringing the second. Unable to avoid the third, he took a
heavy blow to his shoulder before disemboweling the man that struck him.
Seconds later he finished off the one that he had hamstrung.

Moira saw the strained look on his face as he rolled
his shoulder, trying to stretch the battered muscle. There wasn’t much she
could do for bruises, and there were ten more running toward them from the
rear.

“Keep going,” said the older man with resignation in
his voice. “If you can make the gate, you might have a chance. My road ends
here.”

“No,” she told him, standing firm. “I’ve had enough.”

“Don’t be stupid, girl!”

The townsfolk running toward them were less than a
hundred feet off now, and Moira felt a shock of recognition as she saw Gram’s
distinctive aythar among them. “Gram is with them,” she announced. One of the
women felt familiar as well, although she couldn’t immediately place her.

Chad stepped forward, bloody knives at the ready,
“Alyssa is with him. You don’t want to see this, lass.”

The mention of that name surprised her, but it also
firmed her resolve. “No,” Moira said again. “I won’t give them anymore blood
today, not from me and mine.” Her head was throbbing but she ignored it with
an act of will. Letting her anger fuel her desire, she pushed her aythar
outward once more.
Take them,
she told her alter ego, focusing her
power on her other self.

Pain blossomed in her mind, almost blinding her with
its intensity, but her rage was greater than that. Moira’s mind expanded,
splitting into pieces, becoming greater than the agony she felt.
One for
each of them,
she commanded. Invisible threads of aythar flashed outward,
touching each of their enemies, and as quickly as that, the fight was over.

Her spell-twins blocked the control of the parasites
and began issuing their own commands. Their would-be attackers slowed and
moved to take guard positions around Moira and her companions. They were stiff
and awkward, but now they were hers.

Gram, are you there?
She
sent the thought out, searching his mind through her proxy.

She found only silence. Gram seemed to be unconscious
within his doubly trapped mind. A similar search showed that Alyssa and the
others were in the same condition.
Perhaps it’s a mercy they aren’t awake,
she
thought. “Let’s go,” she told Chad and Stretch.

The hunter watched their new guards warily, “Are you
sure this is safe? What if you lose control?”

“I won’t,” she reassured him.
Never again.
She
knew the true secret of the Centyr now. Everyone thought the strength of the
Centyr was in their spellbeasts, but that was only the surface, the face that
they showed to others. The truth was darker. The hidden power of the Centyr
lineage was control, total and absolute control.
And if these metal vermin
think they will beat me at that, then they are sorely mistaken.

The rest of their journey was almost anti-climactic.
Two or three men attacked them as they approached the gate, but her new retinue
outnumbered them. The fight was short and bloody, costing her two of her
guards, but it was also a relief to reduce the number she had to control.
Through it all she kept Gram and Alyssa quietly by her side. She wouldn’t risk
them.

The gate was very nearly unguarded. Many of the
soldiers who guarded it had been parasitized and had abandoned their posts
earlier to attack them at Wat’s home. The few that remained were confused by
the events of the evening. They cowered at their posts near the gate, afraid
to confront the strangers.

Moira’s new servants opened the gate, and they marched
into the night.

They marched down the road from the gate for only a
few minutes before turning off into a field. Another half an hour of slogging
through wet grass and muddy irrigation channels, and Moira felt herself
reaching her limit. Mentally she ordered her guards to halt and held up a hand
to let Chad know she was stopping.

The field was black except for the starlight, not that
she needed light to see. Her feet and legs were cold, soaked to the knees with
wet mud. The world around her seemed to sway.
I can’t keep this up much
longer.
She knew what she had to do, while there was still time. Luckily,
it wouldn’t take much more aythar.

Cassandra was within her mental range, so she sent a
quick message,
I can’t go any farther. We are safe for the moment. I’ll
head for you in a little while. I just need to rest a bit.

The dragon’s warm thoughts came to her a second later,
Very well.

She had no intention of resting yet, though. Instead
she ordered the people she controlled to run in separate directions. Her
aythar was so low now that she doubted she could maintain the copies that were
controlling them much longer. She needed to get them as far away as possible
before releasing them.

Killing them would have been easier, and the thought
occurred to her, but she still wasn’t ready to stoop that low. Straightening
her shoulders, she made Gram and Alyssa lie in the wet grass.

“What are you doing?” asked Chad.

“What is necessary,” she told him.

“An’ that would be?” he replied, stretching out the
last word for emphasis.

She held a finger to her lips and then pointed to her
ears before looking back at Gram and Alyssa.

The ranger understood her meaning, but it still left
him wondering what she intended to do.

“Be ready,” she warned. “I may lose control of the
ones I sent back. If I do, you may have to protect us.”

She looked upward; the stars seemed to be moving back
and forth, like fireflies in a summer breeze. Gritting her teeth, she summoned
her will and began creating more spell-twins. The pain became a white hot fire
in her skull as she channeled her remaining aythar into them.

Three of you for each of them. One to
shield the parasite’s body and claws, one to extract the control tendrils, and
the third to heal any bleeding or damage as we remove them,
she
told her newer selves, although they already knew the plan.

The world was already spinning.
Now, move quickly!

Her duplicates lashed out, sending their power into
the bodies of Gram and Alyssa simultaneously, wrapping the metal creatures in
their necks within fine shields to contain them.

Moira was barely aware of them now, even though all
six of her helpers were sending back a steady stream of observations. The fire
in her brain was starting to blot out everything else.
Just a little more,
don’t give up yet…

And then she was falling. The ground raced toward her
like a welcome friend. Her mind was a misery of pain, and the darkness that
she had hoped for refused to come. Instead the world turned pale, and she
began to burn. The universe became a white torment of flames that consumed
everything.

***

Chad watched her carefully. Whatever she was planning,
he doubted it boded well. One second she stood alone, and the next there were
six others standing around Gram and Alyssa. They stretched out their hands and
he saw the bodies on the ground stiffen.

Shortly afterward, he saw Gram’s mouth open, and
something dark and glistening emerged. It seemed to squirm in the dim light
for a moment, but then he heard a sharp ‘pop’ before whatever it was fell away
to one side. A quick check told him that the same thing had happened to Alyssa
while he watched his young friend.

The six women faded away like ghosts into the night,
and Moira fell before he could catch her. She began twisting and flopping on
the ground, arms and legs alternately tensing and then flailing outward once
more. Moira’s head was drawn back and her mouth gaped in a rictus grin. Her
eyes were open, but all he could see was the whites.

She’s having a damned seizure,
he
realized.

Dropping beside her, he did his best to hold her body
down, avoiding her face since her teeth were clenching at random intervals.
Fuck.
Stripping his belt off, he tried to get it into her mouth, worried she
might bite through her tongue. It felt as though an eternity passed before her
mouth opened again, but when it did he was ready. He couldn’t tell in the dim
light, but he thought she hadn’t hurt herself—yet.

Minutes went by while she jerked violently, but
gradually her movements slowed, becoming milder spasmodic twitches. Moving behind
her, he cradled her head and made soothing sounds, as though he were calming a
child.
Idiot, she can’t hear you. Why are you doing that?

Eventually she grew still, but he stayed where he was,
brushing her hair away from her face with one hand. The old veteran’s eyes were
wet with tears, though there was no one to see. “Don’t you dare die on me,
girl,” he quietly intoned, his voice thick and husky.

Blinking to clear his eyes, he examined the area.
Gram and Alysa lay in the grass, their bodies as still as corpses. He had to
watch them for a while before he could see that their chests were still
moving.
That’s something at least. They’re alive.
Moira’s bizarre
magic horse-thing still stood nearby, a seemingly dead man on its back. It
gazed back at him while he studied it.

Easing her head out of his lap, he stood and made a
mental tally. “This is a fine mess you’ve left me with, four unconscious
people and some sort of fucked up magic horse-wagon.” His eyes met Stretch’s
momentarily before he added, “No offense intended.”

The spellbeast lifted his shoulders in a shrug. He
hadn’t been given the ability to talk, but he could understand spoken
conversation. The gesture made it clear he wasn’t worried about the ranger’s
comment.

Chad kept talking, primarily to calm his nerves.
“You’re quiet. That’s what I like about you; you don’t fill the air up with
unnecessary noise, unlike most people.” He waved his hands to indicate the
others, “Like this lot for example—I should count myself lucky the damned fools
are out cold. Otherwise they’d be rattling my skull with their constant
yammering. But not you…”