Fireborn Champion (42 page)

“You might have broken the circle, but I’ll fight you Caspran, and this time it you’ll see my real power. It won’t be so easy to get to them if you have to go through me first.”

“It’s easier than you think. Look for yourself!”

A cold grip clamped over Iron’s heart, and he whirled around. Six shards hovered over Kalila, pointed at her head. Ayska’s sister hadn’t noticed them, huddled and whimpering over her sister’s corpse.

“Kalila!” Iron screamed. “Kalila!”

Caspran’s daggers descended at a snail’s pace toward their target.
 

Please, gods please
, Iron prayed. “Kalila, you have to come back to us.”

Kalila did not respond. The daggers sunk within a few inches of her head.
 

“I loved her too,” Iron said.

Kalila’s back heaved in a great sob.

“She will live as long as we remember. But we have to survive to remember. We need you to remember, Kalila. I need you to remember. For Ayska—
remember
.”

The razors lowered within a hair of her skin. Caspran’s cackle filled the sky.

Everything changed then.

Kalila stiffened. Her wide back swelled, but this time something differed about her movement. She lowered Ayska’s body and stared behind her, locking gazed with Iron.
 

Her eyes, her eyes, the dim flame in her eyes burned an inferno in the night. An energy once hidden beneath a chasm burst forth and dazzled over her dark cheeks. Caspran’s daggers froze, then fell onto the sand. Kalila rose, the crackling fire in her eyes licking her brow without blistering skin. “The circle was broken, but blood and fire sealed it,” she roared. “Forgive us, oh beloved sons and daughters, for hope requires sacrifice.”

No longer was she a simple, gentle giant. The woman before Iron stood tall and strong, her features etched from stone, her chin held high. No longer would she cower in a corner or fear a flock of swifts.

“I don’t understand.” Iron shook his head in disbelief. “But how?”

“Our father knew the Godfall would come, and he knew I would be chosen as the Loyal Father’s champion. He sealed my soul within me to hide it from the alp. Only when the
Father’s Lament
came to pass would it be free again, and only the Mother’s true champion could do it.”

“Ayska wasn’t delirious,” Iron rasped. “It was you. All along,
you
were the chosen champion of the Father.”

“And you the Mother’s. All the champions are gathered now, one for each of the Six.” Kalila raised a hand. A ring of white-hot fire crackled around it, and she pointed to Iron. “The alignment is at hand, and the circle is sealed. I am Kalila Masrari, Priestess of the Loyal Father, Daughter who Defends the Defenseless and Handmaiden of Divinity.”

Caspran’s wraithlike shriek nearly brought Iron to his knees. The alp would still kill them. Iron hadn’t mended the circle, an impossible task with no champion for the Mother.

The alp launched himself at Iron. Kalila’s flames flared, and Caspran seized so hard he collapsed in a writhing mass.
 

“I hold you, demon,” she spat. “Hound of the High King,
you will heel
before me.”

“The circle is sealed,” Sander called, stepping forward. A ring of fire surrounded his outstretched hand. He pointed at Iron. “I am Sander Hale, Priest of the Slippery Sinner, Collector of Gold Curiosities and Patron of Pious Reminders.”

Nephele joined Sander and raised a hand crowned by flame. “I can’t believe I didn’t see her in you before, Iron. The circle is sealed. I am Nephele Catrona, Priestess of the Gentle Lover, Patroness of Soft Caresses and Guardian of Unspoken Longings.”

Sigrid raised her hand as flames roiled around her knuckles. “The circle is sealed. I am Sigrid Ostergaard, Priestess of the Coin Counter, Patroness of Forgotten Memories and the Pallbearer of Long Histories.”

“I don’t understand…” Iron retreated a step, keeping the wailing Caspran in view. “The circle’s still broken. I’m not the Mother’s champion. I never was…was I?”

Lastly, Batbayar approached. He clapped his hands together, and flames erupted between them. He peeled his palms apart and pointed a finger cloaked in an inferno at Iron. “The circle is sealed, oh blessed
arphanarat.
I am Batbayar Opani, Priest of the Shining Child, Herald of Misplaced Purity and Advocate of Beautiful Dreams.”

“But the Mother—I don’t know her stance. I can’t—can’t fight him without it!”

“You
do
know her stance,” Sander said. “You are the Fireborn Champion. It’s time you see what power slept inside you all these years. Open your eyes and burn as she did. Say the words.”

Iron’s gaze fixed on his master. A truth swirled within those words, one he’d longed to know since his earliest memories. “This was the secret? All along, this was the secret you couldn’t say.”

The man’s face contorted as tears glimmered in his eyes. “I sin to save a life, and I fear what frees us here dooms us later. Her words were clear, but there is only death for us and all others unless you say the words. Forgive me, Burning Mother, for I sin against you. Oh gods, forgive me.”

Sander swallowed and stepped forward. “You don’t need to learn the Mother’s stance because you know it. We all know it. The Mother’s stance is sacrifice. It is the most powerful and purest of all the stances.”

“There is no hope without sacrifice,” Nephele added.
 

His master nodded and bore a smile weighed by old memories. “And so she came to the temple that night of the Godfall with a little boy in her arms. The Mother stepped into the Ever-Burning Flame, sacrificing her power so her son might live to save us all.”

Flames. Fury. Screams. A mother’s warm embrace. They came in rhythmic flashes like one wave after another smashing against a ship at sea. He looked blankly at Fang. “I am the Mother’s son. She was the doe, the fish, the bird, the voice.”

“Say the words,” Sander screamed. “Caspran is fighting our hold. We can keep him weak, but you must destroy him. Say the words, Fireborn!”

“Say the words!” Nephele and Sigrid yelled.

“Say the words!” Batbayar roared.

“Say the words,” Kalila said in a voice deep and calm as the Sapphire Sea. “You know them. Say them, for my sister. For all those who died at Sol’s hands.”

The Six’s stars dazzled in a black dome. Iron swallowed and nodded. He pointed Fang at the sky. “The circle is sealed. I am Iron, Priest of the Burning Mother, Son of Prophecy and Champion of the Six.”

The alp ripped from his bonds. A crack of thunder rocked the desert. Light blazed from Fang like Iron had torn a shard from the sun itself. The radiance didn’t blind him. It poured warmth through his body, warmth that gave him strength. Warmth that turned his wounds into pulsing echoes.
 

Iron saw himself reflected in Caspran’s maddened eyes. And then, his reflection ignited.

Fire blazed around Iron’s arms and cloaked his body in crackling heat. Yet, it did not consume him, it
bonded
with him.
 

There, in the flames, he saw her on the horizon. A young woman with hair rolling over shoulders like a mighty river cascading around her delicate chin and round, rosy cheeks. Her eyes, eternity churned within those eyes. She wore a dress of roiling flames, and a blazing ring crowned her.
 

His mother crossed her hands upon her heart and smiled.
Thank you, my love.
Her lips did not move, but her voice echoed through the sky. I
love you, Iron. I burn for you above all others. Remember me and I will rise again.

“You cannot kill a god,” he murmured. “You can only forget them. I will never forget you.”

She nodded and receded into darkness. A world once slowed resumed its spin as Caspran launched a knuckled fist.
 

Iron snatched the alp’s wrist and flung him aside.
 

Caspran stumbled. He caught his balance and swiveled, kicking at Iron’s chest. Iron ducked beneath the boot and thrust his sword toward Caspran’s chin. The alp grasped the blade with a sneer. “You think a weapon can hurt me, Fireborn? Not even the Fang of Asgeron can stand against the Serpent’s power.”

Iron smirked and ripped the sword from Caspran’s hold. Blood curtained the air and splattered onto the sand. Caspran shrieked and clutched the wrist of his wounded hand. He stared, wide eyed, at the gash streaming scarlet from his palm.

“Fang remembers how to bite,” Iron said. “And by the looks of it, you’re not healing. How’s that faith of yours now, Brother Caspran? Still hard as glacier ice?”

“How…?” Caspran’s body trembled. He scowled at Iron, bits of foam collecting in the corners of his lips.
 

“Your time has ended, alp, for the second time.” Iron pointed the blade at his enemy and lifted his chin. “The Six may have fallen, but they aren’t forgotten. I will find a way to bring them back. I will find a way to stop Sol. I will save the Third Sun and everyone who lives beneath it. You can die knowing you’ve failed. Again.”

Caspran wiped his mouth and smiled. “I’m not dead yet, unlike your formerly pretty girlfriend.”

Iron shook his head as a new fury ignited in his heart. This was not the rage of hate, of venom, or of vengeance. No, this fury blossomed from the blood of innocents who fell before the Serpent Sun, their voices crying for justice. Iron focused on the demon’s eyes, and they focused on him.

“Let’s end this, Caspran.”

“Let’s.”
 

Sand spun in veiled waves around them as they danced in their deadly duel. Caspran flattened his fingers and struck Iron’s shoulder. Nails bit flesh, and a sharp stab racked his chest. Iron cried out as another swift strike from the heel of Caspran’s palm cracked his rib.

The flames cloaking Iron roiled. His magic quickened his footsteps, but so did Caspran’s. They matched one another in power, but the alp’s experience granted him the slightest edge.

Iron stumbled to a knee and caught knuckles in his jaw. Blood wet his lips and tickled his chin, the vision in his left eye blurred.

Glee painted a grin on Caspran’s face and gave his eyes a hungry luster. Like a glory hawk swooping on a hare, the alp knew he had his prey.

Iron swiped a blow aside but caught Caspran’s boot against his leg. He screamed as bone shattered, and he hit the ground.
 

“Even with the Six’s power, you’re no match for the Serpent,” Caspran hissed. The alp’s hair swirled like a ghost as he towered over Iron. “My master wants you alive. He didn’t say he needed you in one piece.”

Pain swelled in Iron’s chest with each breath. Blood stained his tunic and wet his lips. Black edged his world, the creep of oblivion falling over him. Iron slashed toward Caspran. The alp danced back with a wild laugh. The others kept to their circle, desperately feeding Iron their power.
 

Sander wavered.
 

“No!” Iron yelled. “Don’t or the circle will break. I need the power, master.”

Sander nodded, although his fear continued to wrinkle his brow.

Caspran stalked forward. He cracked his neck and flashed his amber eyes.

Iron thought back to his days in the Everfrosts, to that time he rode the thundersnow and soared above the land like a god. There was such peace there, such tranquility. Once he died, that world would never exist again. No one would ride the thundersnows. No one would soar. Instead, they’d be little more than bones like the titans who came before them, a relic of a Sun passed.

Slip through his fingers like smoke and shadow
, his mother whispered.
 

He frowned. He knew those words. But his mother hadn’t spoken them. No, Sander spoke them one day beneath the shadows of the Everfrosts that seemed an eternity ago.

Caspran grinned. A shard slipped from his clothes and hovered over his bleeding palm.

You get one chance. Make sure it counts.

Smoke and shadow, a Sinner’s technique. What blasted lesson was it? What spell?

The alp raised his flattened palm. The shard was a glint of silver against the slick red blossom of his skin.

“I think I’ll take an eye from you and wear it like a necklace,” Caspran said.
 

Iron clenched his jaw and leaned back from the approaching razor blade. Smoke. Shadow. One chance.
 

His eyes shot wide. He remembered now.

The Sinner’s magic erupted around him. “You want to end this? End it.” Iron spat on Caspran’s cheek.
 

“Good night, sweet boy.” The alp wiped the glistening glob from his face and snapped.
 

The razor zipped toward Iron. He closed his eyes, and the Sinner’s magic sealed around him.

The alp’s razor pierced Iron’s eye. Caspran screamed in glee as Iron fell to the sand and writhed.
 

“I did it!” Caspran jumped in happy circles. “I did it! I did it!
Hahahaha
! Yes, the Serpent Sun shall rise. It shall rise and cleanse this land of filth. Master, oh master, your loyal servant has succeeded!”

He landed, clapping his hands. When he did, Iron’s body vanished in a poof of black mist.
 

The alp’s eyes widened. “
What?
”
 

Caspran screamed, whirling around. Black mist congealed behind him, and Iron stepped from it. He rammed Fang through the demon’s chest.
 

Flesh tore. Caspran gasped, clutching the steel. Blood ran down the blade and soaked his chalky clothes.
 

“It’s called a decoy,” Iron said as he shoved the blade deeper. Its glowing tip jutted from Caspran’s back. “I only get one good chance to use it, so I had to make it count.”

Iron’s flames licked at Brother Caspran, scorching flesh and bubbling blisters. The alp spat blood, but the flames quickly turned those to scarlet mist.
 

Caspran’s lips contorted in a snarl. His fingers pressed with all the clumsy strength of an infant against Iron’s cheek. “You…you know nothing…”