Dire Sparks (Song of the Aura, Book Five) (16 page)

Thunk.

This time, Elia watched the beheading in all its grisly detail. She was inches away from vomiting, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away. The next prisoner was the woman in black.

Sheolus raised the bloody sword. The woman thrashed, writhing, and managed to twist around so that she had a clear view of her executioner… but instead of trying to avoid the coming stroke, she spit right in the Golden One’s face. The archdemon twitched angrily, but his swing did not miss.

Thunk.

Captain Berne did not struggle, but he spoke, right before he, too, died. His voice lifted in a melancholy song, in words of an ancient tongue Elia did not know, but broke her heart anyway…

Thunk.

Crimson stained the ground, warming the cold stones. Sheolus moved on. Elia began to shake. Lauro was next.

A commotion. A spray of blood- not Lauro’s- and a scream. Also not his. She could hardly believe her eyes: the prince was winning free! He slew the black-clad guard with a bolt of lightning that leaped from his fist, and wheeled around wildly. Elia’s heart jumped. He would save them! He would do it! He would slay Sheolus!

Then the prince’s eyes met hers, and her hope died again. He was terrified… stark, raving, madcap
terrified
. Sheolus hefted his sword, laughing loud and long, cold as Death.

Then Lauro Vale, prince of Vastion, leader of men and Strider of Sky, turned and ran off into the darkness.

Why? Why would he abandon us?
Elia felt hot tears dripping down her cheeks, but still she was unable to make a sound. The Golden One made no move after Lauro, but he laughed for more than a minute, hideous and chilling.

Then he moved on to Gribly. The young Prophet began to struggle wildly as his doom drew near, and at last managed to get his head out from under the dark guardian’s hand. Twisting his neck, he turned and saw her.

Elia met his eyes… and Gribly stopped fighting. Tears glistened in his eyes, and he nodded to her slowly. The guard’s hand smacked his head down again… and Elia found her voice.

“
No!” she screamed louder than she ever had before, “Don’t give up! Fight!”

Sheolus raised his sword. Scarlet drops fell on Gribly’s neck… and he spoke.

“
It wasn’t me, Elia…” his voice was a despairing whisper. “It wasn’t me… I was
wrong.
”

“
NO!” she screamed, fighting harder than she ever had before.

Sheolus swung.
Thunk.
Blood splashed on the altar, on Sheolus’s knees, and the floor. Elia screamed again and again, cursing the Golden One and everything he had done to her.

The fiend stepped over to her altar. The last one. He raised his sword.

“
Why?”
she found herself shrieking.
“Why?!?”

Sheolus swung…

“
WHY?!?”

The world flashed white.

~

She hit the metal floor in a crouch, still screaming. All around her, she heard wailing and curses: the other Acolytes. Aura knew what they were undergoing… it couldn’t be
worse
than her test, could it?

Whatever the dream-circles did to her, she was no longer dying. That much she could tell, for though she felt weaker than a corpse, her wounds had all but closed up. Shaking, only just able to steel herself, Elia stepped towards the third and final circle…

…
Just before the world went white again, she saw Tressa lying across the third line, unmoving.

~

Memory fled, and time faded.

Elia walked along a warm dirt pathway amid the myriad splendor of an enormous garden. Plants of every shade and shape mixed with flowers and fruit trees of all imaginable sizes and textures, like a living crown of glory on the pinnacle of the world. The sun shone down on her back, just hot enough to be pleasant without burning.

She looked down at herself, and gasped in pleasant surprise. She was wearing the most beautiful gown she had ever seen: a cascade of interwoven silky strands, deep red, that twined about her form as if they were a natural part of her. The next instant she forgot it, eyes drawn to the intricate array of tiny silver gems down the front of the gown. They swirled and curved like living streamlets of ice, sparkling in the light. Where had she received such a queenly gift?

Then she rounded a corner in the garden path… and almost ran straight into the last person she expected to see in this paradise.

Lauro Vale.

Memory tugged at her. Something wasn’t right. Lauro couldn’t be here, could he? Was the garden his? Had
he
given her the gown? He was dressed in rich, royal robes, and a jeweled crown with curving wings on either side sat on his head. His hair had grown out, finally, and he looked incredibly… handsome.

“
Elia!” He seemed as genuinely surprised to see her as she was to see him. “You came! I didn’t think…” his face went through a movement, almost a spasm, that for an instant sent a jolt of fear down her spine. But then he was drawing her along the path beside him, arm in arm, a radiant smile on his face. “It’s… soothing to see you, you know. Ever since the Day of Norne… well, I just don’t know sometimes.”

Elia froze in her tracks. Lauro paused, looking at her strangely. He was
older
, she realized… at least ten years older, and in the prime of his manhood. For that matter,
she
was older too. More mature. Taller, slightly. In the flower of beauty, she would have said, if she was vain. But she wasn’t… was she? Her mind seemed so slow, right now. What was going on?

“
The Day of Norne…” she breathed. Traveller had mentioned that. But it
couldn’t
have happened yet. Not before Gribly was ready to fight…
Oh, Aura. Not this. Please not this.
Memories began pouring back into her, and she shuddered involuntarily.

“
Yes,” Lauro nodded, looking sad. “I regret it with all my heart, though it turned out for the better of Vast. If only I could… ah, but no matter. It’s over. I had to kill him, Elia. I had no choice.”

“
No!” she yelped, pulling away. “You couldn’t! This can’t… it can’t be!”

“
But… I told you!” he protested. “You came, didn’t you? I… the letter… don’t you understand? You must know! Didn’t I make myself clear? I’m the Emperor of Vast, Elia. I do what I want! I had to make a deal with the demons, Elia! There too many! We would have died if I hadn’t… and… and… I love you, Elia! More than he
ever
did!”

“
NO! Why, Lauro?” she yelled at him, and realized she was sobbing. Again. “Why? WHY?!?”

The world went white.

~

Elia collapsed at the brink of the portal, just inside the last circle, white light shining in her tear-swollen eyes. Her heart was pounding like every beat would be its last.

That was NOT Lauro. Just like it was NOT my father, and NOT Gribly.

That is NOT my future.

She stared broken-heartedly around the chamber. Bodies were splayed out in various poses of horror and suffering. Some of the Acolytes hadn’t made it past the first circle, and some of them had only fallen at the last… but none of them had survived the whole test. Not even Tressa. Elia was wracked by a sob as she saw the small body of her friend curled up over part of the third circle. She wanted more than anything to reach out, to crawl around the edge of the final portal and wrap her arms around the girl… but it would be no use, and she knew it. Tressa was dead, just like all the rest.

I’m the only one left.
It hit her like a blow to the chest. As she clambered shakily to her feet, her heart began to pound even faster… but not from fear.

The last test had challenged more than just her life… it had challenged her dignity, submerging her in a dream-land where her greatest allies were her worst enemies… It had been
false
, that she knew with the very fiber of her being.

Trembling with weakness and anger, Elia stared directly into the white light of the portal.

He even took Tressa from me. The only Kinn who cared.

Sheolus would pay, no matter what the cost.

She jumped, and the portal swallowed her with its brilliance.

It was like falling through water. Or liquid light. Or both.

When she emerged, Elia was so disoriented that she almost fell to the ground. But through the white haze, someone took her from behind, keeping her steady and ushering her slowly forward.

The haze began to fade, and she realized she was walking along a golden carpet, lined with what must have been a hundred or more Pit Striders on either side. There were Acolytes from different groups, Malcytes, Morgens and Spines, all with faces covered or in shadow. As she passed by, each of them raised an open palm in her direction, in some strange salute of the Kinn for new Pit Striders.

She shuddered with the gravity of the situation. She had made it. She had
won!
Slowly, a cautious smile crept over her face.

“
Don’t get too cocky,” a voice whispered in her ear. “The hard part’s just coming.”

Gramling. As the last shreds of confusion dropped away, she realized that it had been he who had caught her as she stumbled; he who was keeping her from toppling over from exhaustion right now. She smiled ruefully.

“
You always know just what to say, don’t you?” she whispered sarcastically.

“
Always,” Gramling chuckled, but he sounded nervous… and rightly so.
A boy who can’t decide who he is, and a girl who can barely walk… off to challenge the dark lord of the Golden Nation. How touching.
The thought did nothing to comfort her. Eventually, her vision cleared enough for her to clearly see where they were, and where they were heading… and the sight took her breath away.

The whole assembly of Pit Striders was packed into the high, open arena where she had first begun her training, more than a month before. Though it had been night when she was taken to the testing, now the Golden Nation “day” was in full swing, and the red auroras shone overhead with a vigor she had never witnessed before.

Gramling was leading her down the golden carpet, which ran through the pillar-ringed circle from end to end. At the far wall of cliffs, where she had noticed no such thing before, sat an enormous flight of stone stairs that ended in a round dais several yards across. On the dais was a titanic throne of beaten gold, spiked and shaped in intricate designs that caught her eye from hundreds of yards away.

On the throne lounged Sheolus himself, clad in flanged golden armor, with a long golden scepter held loosely in his right hand, with a golden skull set upon its tip. On his head was a great, golden-winged crown…
The same one Lauro wore in the dream-test,
Elia realized.
It
had
to be false then.

Standing at the edge of the dais, equally spaced around the golden throne, stood all six Lordytes, wearing voluminous blood-colored cloaks over shimmering plate-armor, and silvery masks of expressionless metal. Tight-fitting hoods stretched over their heads, shadowing the masks only a little, yet somehow making the effect much more frightening. Elia caught her breath as they approached the first steps of the massive monument to Pit Strider power.

The Lordytes will all be on our side,
Gramling had assured her.
Wait for my move then strike with all your might. They will protect you while you work your Striding… but you have to let them. Don’t get yourself killed.
She didn’t intend to… but things were looking grim from anyone’s point of view. Could she be strong enough?
Would
she?

Gramling paused behind her, almost imperceptibly patting her on the shoulder as he passed by. As he mounted the steps ahead of her, she got her first good look at him during the ceremony. It was a short glance, and the next few moments were frantic as she tried not to collapse without his support… but the image he left her with was both quieting and terrifying.