The D'Karon Apprentice (31 page)

“How did you know the D’Karon? What did you
do for them?” Ivy said, her voice almost cracking.

Turiel tipped her head to the side, concern
creasing her expression. “Is there something wrong, dear?” she
asked, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on Ivy’s
shoulder.

Ivy pulled back. “Please… just answer.”

“What did I do for them? Some tasks, very
minor from their point of view. I heeded their call, and I’ve been
hard at work readying a contingency.”

“Heeded their call?”

“I brought them here.”

The grip of Ivy’s club creaked in her hand,
and her eyes plunged a few shades toward violet. “You…
brought
them…”

Turiel smiled. She’d admitted to setting
loose a group of genocidal invaders, but from her expression she
may as well have been speaking of donating to a needy orphanage.
“How could I not? I needed their help. I needed to learn the things
they could teach me. Your father, Demont—”

“He is
not
my father,” Ivy hissed.

Now her expression became sterner. “Do not
deny it. I know his touch. You should be honored. I can see that
the soul and body are not matched. Surely you offered yourself to
complete this masterpiece.”

“I did not offer it. It was taken…”

Ivy’s voice was cold, and growing colder. Her
eyes were as deeply violet as the scattered gems around them.
Blackness now stained the fur around her eyes as well.

“Taken? Ah. Still a matter of honor, to know
that he found your soul valuable enough to be a piece of this
glorious mosaic that he’s made of you. And I’m curious, what is it
that is happening now? The darkness, and the eyes. I’m
fascinated.”

“Darkness…” Ivy recoiled and shut her eyes.
“Not that, not now!”

“These auras, they are emotion. That much is
clear. I’ve seen some blue, which I imagine is fear, and I’ve seen
red, which must be anger. Black? Something negative, certainly.
Hate perhaps? All of this tinkering with state of mind, it seems
more in line with Epidime’s sensibilities…”

Turiel continued to muse, but for the moment,
Ivy didn’t have the mind to spare to listen to it. She’d kept her
emotions under control ever since the final battle. It had been a
point of pride for her that she’d not allowed herself to change.
That part of her, that frail spirit at the mercy of her stormy
mind, was supposed to be gone forever. But if ever she were to let
the emotions take over again, it would
not
be hatred. Anger
and fear, even joy and duty, were fleeting. But hate… she’d felt it
only twice before, and it sank its teeth deep into her, threatening
never to let go. That dark thing, that twisted, murderous monster
was precisely what Demont would have wanted. She wouldn’t, she
wouldn’t
allow it.

For too long it was a losing battle. The hate
was too strong. Images of all the evil that had been done by the
D’Karon and on their behalf stung at her mind. Then something
happened. She could feel a warmth about her, a connection that
soothed her anxiety. It was precisely what she’d needed, and
without it, she might have easily slipped away.

She opened her eyes, and for a long moment
her mind seized. Turiel had wrapped her arms about Ivy, pulling her
into a tight, nurturing embrace. She murmured under her breath, as
if to a child who had fallen and scraped her knee. No magic was at
work, it was merely an act of caring, of compassion.

“Dear, sweet thing,” Turiel said. “I
understand. It is too much. You weren’t ready. Give it time, dear.
You’ll find the strength.”

Ivy pushed Turiel away, more gently than
she’d imagined she’d be able to do.

“Do you feel better, dear?” Turiel asked.

“Don’t… don’t touch me again.”

“Of course not, Ivy. I apologize. But you
needed something. You seemed so shaken. Can you tell me, what
happened here?”

“What… what happened here?” Ivy said, already
threatening to lose her recently regained composure. “Ether
destroyed these things.”

“Ether,” Turiel said, stepping back, wringing
her hands. “Ether… yes. Yes, she is one of the adversaries. I
remember now. The adversaries…” Her eyes narrowed and she looked at
the malthrope. “Ivy was one of the names that woman mentioned. A
malthrope named Ivy. You are one of them. But how? He
made
you! How could you be corrupted in this way?” She seemed
distraught, betrayed. “Why would you turn on your creators?”

“Do you
know
what the D’Karon
did?”

“A war, yes… Yes I know that they were
involved in a war. But to suggest they would do anything they
didn’t
need
to do is nonsense.”

“Nonsense?
Nonsense
? Look around you!”
Ivy said. She snatched up the sheared-away claw from a fallen
creature. “Look at what Demont made! Look at
me!
These
things were made to kill. And he used them. The worst of them were
set loose into the world. His creatures have been killing the
people for so long. We had to end them before they could do any
more damage.”

“If… if that is so, then it can only be
because it was necessary. The D’Karon… the D’Karon are strong and
wise. What did you and the others do to them?”

“Bagu is dead. And I killed Teht myself,” Ivy
said, her gaze steely and her grip on her weapon firm. “The rest
were cast away, and we shut the portal.”

“Teht… you killed… Ivy you… I
needed
them. They had so much to offer this world. So much to teach me…”
Tears were in her eyes.

“They meant to control us, to take our world
for their own.”

“No… no, you don’t understand. How can I ever
hope to be what I need to be if… how can I ever learn to avenge my
sister if…” Turiel stepped forward and clutched her staff, Mott
skittering to the ground. “You need to go.”

“Turiel, if you brought the D’Karon here,
then you need to face justice for what happened.”

“I brought them here. And if you forced them
away, then they must be brought back.”

“I won’t let you do that,” Ivy said, raising
her weapon.

Turiel thrust her staff forward, its head
burning and crackling violently. “I won’t let you stop me.” The
very shadows began to shift and coil, creeping into the brilliant
light as strings of inky blackness. “For turning on your creators
you deserve so much worse… but you are the work of Demont. And in
your eyes I can see that you are a child and you were not ready for
the gift you were given.”

The tendrils lashed out, coiling about Ivy’s
club and tearing it from her hand. The malthrope rushed forward,
but threads netted together and ensnared her, hurling her back.

“Go, child. Your siblings are about to
awaken, and they may not be as charitable as I have been.”

Ivy looked desperately around her. The
tendrils were piercing the remaining portions of the fallen
creations, pulling them together. Jaws began to clack and snap even
before the heads found their way to their bodies. More tendrils
drove themselves between the cracks and wormed their way to the
other floors. The shift and grind of motion rumbled all around her,
stirring terrible memories of her other times spent in Demont’s
workshops. She threw herself against the web of tendrils twice
more, clawing at it in a vicious attempt to get to Turiel.

“You can’t do this! They’ll kill people! You
can’t control them!”

Turiel turned and gazed at Ivy. “I don’t mean
to control them, Ivy. They aren’t mine to control. I mean to
understand them. Now please go, run. You are a fine piece of work,
a masterpiece from the hands of the D’Karon who had the most to
teach me. I don’t think I could bear seeing you destroyed.”

Mott chittered and whined, looking back and
forth between Ivy and Turiel. The creature was clearly distraught,
like a loyal dog that doesn’t want to see a beloved master
leave.

“There, there, Mott,” Turiel said, running
her fingers over the monster’s head. “Perhaps in time she will find
her way.”

Ivy cried out and flared with red as she
tried and failed to force her way through the tendrils, but it was
no use. Every blow was caught and slowed by the ribbons of black.
The care taken not to hurt her, and to keep her from hurting
herself, was evident. For the first time she could remember, Ivy
found herself wishing she could push herself past the breaking
point and give in to the fury that had seen her through so many
battles before, but her mind wouldn’t allow it. The anger was
tempered by fear. Fear of what would happen to her if she remained
in this place, but more so fear of what would happen to the others
if she wasn’t there to help defend them. She had to get out. And
she had to do it now.

She growled in frustration and turned for the
stairs, quickening to a run. Behind her the tapping footsteps of
Turiel slowly followed, conjuring more tendrils as she went,
awakening more creatures. In four leaping strides, Ivy cleared the
first stairwell and sprinted out onto the floor ahead. Mott had lit
the way with his little gem on the way down. Without him the
scattered slivers of crystal provided the only light, but Ivy’s
sharp eyes didn’t need much. She could see black ribbons slipping
out from between the stones of the floor, weaving themselves into
the bodies of Demont’s broken toys. The lashing filaments of
darkness coiled and clutched about blindly, constantly threatening
to trip the charging hero. When their thrashing finally brought
them into contact with a fallen beast, they coiled about it and
dragged it together. Other conjured ribbons abandoned their
fruitless searches and continued upward into the ceiling and the
floors beyond.

By the time she had reached the well-lit top
floor, the shuffling and clawing of restored creatures was echoing
all around her. Her boots slid and scraped across the icy crust of
frozen sea spray as she ran, but she managed to stay on her feet.
She squinted at the bright light of the outside when she finally
reached the exit. Ahead, the carriage had been turned and the
guards were standing with swords ready. The worrisome sounds had
not gone unnoticed, even with the churning of the sea to dull
them.

“Go! Move! There are things coming,” Ivy
called.

“You heard the ambassador!” Celeste said,
snapping into action. “Ambassador Krettis, inside the
carriage.”

“What do you mean? What sort of things?” the
ambassador asked as Ivy skidded to a stop before her and ushered
her inside.

“You’ll see them soon enough,” Ivy said
breathlessly, rather roughly helping her Tresson counterpart into
the carriage. “And you’ll wish you hadn’t.”

Once both Krettis and her aide were inside,
Ivy stepped in but stood up and hung out the open door to face the
fort behind them. Celeste did the same on the opposite side. They
were barely rolling up to speed when the first monsters stepped
into the light. It was a pair of stone wolves, stiff hair on their
backs standing tall and sharp like porcupine quills. In three
strides they had matched the ponderous pace of the carriage, and in
two more they proved they could easily close the gap. Mounted
guards turned their horses to face the foes, the three Alliance
fighters then spread across the surface of the narrow island to
block the way. They’d barely raised their swords when the wolves
reached them.

“No!” Ivy called out.

She dove from the moving carriage and rolled
once, landing on her feet and grinding to a stop before dashing for
the soldiers. One wolf dove for a soldier and knocked him free of
his horse, opening its jaws to snap at the man’s throat. Ivy plowed
into the hulking beast, hitting it harder than a creature her size
should have been able to. She and the wolf tumbled back toward the
fort, sliding near the edge of the island. The wolf slashed and
swiped with its claws, teeth gnashing hard enough to send chips of
stone flaking free, but Ivy somehow managed to keep the worst of
the blows from her flesh. When the rolling slide stopped, they were
only a few feet from the edge of the island, and the wolf had her
pinned.

Acting on reflex more than anything else, Ivy
coiled her legs and planted them on the belly of the monster. It
was far heavier than a flesh beast would be, but desperation and
fear are powerful things, particularly for Ivy. She cried out in
effort and heaved with both legs, forcing the monster up onto its
hind legs and back toward the edge. It roared and slashed at her,
lacking the mind and instinct to preserve itself as her continued
efforts pushed it farther up and farther back. The guard she had
saved reached her and threw his weight behind a thrust of his
sword. It struck the wolf square in the neck and drove it back just
a few inches more. It was enough for the scrabbling hind claws of
the beast to reach the edge. Icy stone crumbled away and the
monster pitched off the side, clashing and clattering across the
sheer stones and splashing into the frigid sea.

Ivy gave a stiff nod to the man who had
helped her and turned her eyes to the fort. More creatures were
pouring out. Most were ungainly beings meant for the sea, but some
had the speed and size to threaten the retreating carriage. Then
she turned her eyes to the carriage itself. The second wolf had one
or two scores from the swords of guards running along its sides,
but it had successfully pushed past them and was thundering toward
the carriage. She gritted her teeth and sprang to her feet. The
second group of three guards, these the personal guard of the
ambassador, peeled off and turned to face the threat. Their bows
were at the ready, and they let the arrows fly. Two missed their
target, but one arrow drove itself deep into the chest of the
charging wolf, splitting its rocky hide and eliciting a shriek of
pain. Despite the successful attack, the mindless hunter did not
slow or falter. It simply lowered its head and bashed through the
cluster of men, upsetting two of them from their horses.