The Silver Lake (55 page)

Her appearance at Serin-Koy was no less violent. One moment Brax was striking out, one-handed, at a spirit a thousand times more powerful than those he’d faced on Liman-Caddesi; the next It was swept away and he was catapulted into the air, every limb outlined in fire, as Estavia’s presence slammed into him, stripping away all his pain and fatigue in a single blow. Brax gave himself up to it as the now-familiar figure of Kaptin Haldin rose up to encase him in golden light, the gem-encrusted weapon from his dream appeared in his hand, and once again he stood on a flat, featureless plain surrounded by creatures of mist and claws. Once again, he fought them with the same ferocity and unwavering belief in his own invincibility and Hers, and once again they shredded before the power of a God.

And then he saw Graize.

The other boy appeared out of the mist like a wraith, his eyes gone white and wild, a legion of fresh creatures swarming about his head. He spat a curse at Brax so powerful it smacked against Estavia’s protections, and then he was galloping toward him, a curved Yuruk saber in his hand. Brax raised his own weapon and when they met, there was an explosion of energy that sent them both flying. Brax was the first to rise, the power of Estavia driving him to his feet; Graize lay stunned for half a heartbeat longer and then he, too, was up and hurtling toward his enemy.

They met with another crash of steel and power. Brax bore down, forcing Graize toward the ground, his lips drawn back from his teeth in a feral grimace. The other boy snarled back at him in unbridled hatred, then screamed out a single word.

Atop Orzin-Hisar, Spar looked up to see the power become a savage-clawed creature of rage and hunger streaking from the clouds above. He stood frozen for an instant, the memory of Liman-Caddesi catching his breath in his throat, but then, as Chian’s mind wrapped about his in a mantle of strength, he flung their combined power out like a sling, spinning it into a great net of darkness to entangle the creature in mid-strike.

Shrieking in fury, It tore at the net’s black strands while, from the ground, Graize surged upward, knocking Brax away with one blow. He gave a piercing whistle, and just as Estavia turned to face this new threat, a whirlwind of spirits spewed forward to obscure Its presence. She waded into their midst, shredding as many as She sucked in and showering Brax and Graize with their tattered, half-physical bodies. Spar and Chian held their ground against the creature as It twisted about to batter at their minds while Graize sent a hail of tiny spirits against them like a cloud of gnats. Chian’s already weakened abilities began to buckle. The creature renewed its attack, jerking just enough of its sinuous body from the net to sink its half-formed teeth into Chian’s cheek. The former battle-seer faltered, but as a spray of blood caught Spar across the face, his eyes snapped open almost unbearably wide and he saw the past.

The shining waters of Gol-Beyaz began to churn as the lake dwellers’ prayers for prosperity and power formed a dual future of creation and destruction. Across the wild lands a host of spirits driven by the rage and pain of a latent seer came together as one, and within the lake of power Incasa formed a vision to mold a God: an unformed child of power and potential born under the cover of Havo’s Dance. Spar saw his own part in Its birthing, saw what might become his own part in Its fate and then, as Chian’s strength began to fail, he saw behind the battle-seer, a single, shining path leading down into a darkness so total it froze his bones to look at it. Together, he and the creature stared into its depths, watching as a shimmering black tower began to take form, and together they felt Incasa’s sudden consternation as He, too, saw this new, dark future. He raised His dice, and then a white-eyed man standing in the window of a tall, red tower rose up between them.

For a heartbeat, he and Spar stared across the waters at each other. The man beckoned, but mesmerized by the darkness, Spar turned away and the man held up a marble figurine of a mounted seer in sarcastic salute before turning to send a spike of warning across the sea so hard it slapped against Spar’s mind with a crack as it flew past.

Below the wall, Graize’s uneven pupils snapped open at the contact. For a moment it seemed unfamiliar and then he recognized the mind of the northern sorcerer. He almost refused to heed his warning, but as the man stripped away the mist around the streams to show him what would occur if the God of Prophecy took hold of his new Godling, he gave a reluctant whistle to call off Its attack. Caught up in Spar’s visioning, It resisted at first, then turned, trailing a line of crimson blood and ebony power behind It, and shot through Spar’s now-ragged net to lose Itself in the clouds.

As Brax surged to his feet to renew his attack, Graize turned and ran for his mount as well. The battle was won, dozens of sheep and cattle were taken, and the village was burning. It was enough. Holding the Godling’s presence in his mind, he gave the signal and the Yuruk wheeled about and galloped back to the western hills behind him.

At Yildiz-Koy, Danjel felt Graize break off the attack. She gave a long, undulating whistle to call her own kazakin back from the God-Wall, then turned and vanished behind the hills. As Bronze Company gave chase, the infantry slowly lowered their arms. There was silence on the field.

Pressing two fingers against the bridge of his nose to stem the trickle of blood caused by Spar and Chian’s violent contact, Kemal glanced up as Yashar pushed his way through the milling militia to his side.

“It was a feint,” the older man said bluntly.

“I know.”

“Why didn’t
they
know? Why didn’t Sable Company
see it?”

Kemal just shook his head.

“They should have seen it,” the older man insisted. “Then we never would have ...” His deep voice broke over the words. “We thought they’d be safe, Kem, and we left them there all alone.”

“I know.” Handing his helmet to Duwan, Kemal stripped off his cuirass and dropped it to the ground. “Come on,” he said darkly. “We have to find out what happened and then we have to get back there.”

With Cyan Company falling in immediately behind them, the two men ran in search of Kaptin Liel.

On the field of Serin-Koy, Her expression as sated and sleepy as a well-fed house cat, Estavia watched the Yuruk retreat, then reached down to draw Her fingers through Her young Champion’s dust-and-sweat-encrusted hair, before slowly disappearing.

Brax stood watching Her pass with a dazed expression, but as the golden presence of Kaptin Haldin gradually faded along with Her, he gave a long, shuddering breath and sank to his knees, one hand pressed tightly around his wounded arm.

On the battlements, Chian drew Spar’s mind up from the depths of Gol-Beyaz with his final breath before the wake of the Battle God’s passing burned his own mind to ashes. Spar’s eyes slowly returning from white to blue, the young seer stared up at the place where the Godling had disappeared, his expression blank and shocked then, with one hand clasped around Jaq’s neck and the other holding a dead man’s hand, he deliberately closed his eyes, allowing his mind to drift back down to the edge of the dark place where Chian had dwelt for so long.

At Cvet Tower, Illan Volinsk laid one finger atop Spar’s figurine before very gently pushing it over on its side with an expresion of genuine regret. For a moment, he considered removing it from the board entirely, but then shook his head. The streams had become so muddy at this point that the boy might just survive with enough of his abilities left intact to influence the newly formed God of Creation and Destruction. Spar had the potential to affect the streams of possibilities and that potential had not been completely destroyed. Incasa had seen it, too, and despite the very real danger to His power base, Incasa might still have a use for Spar, as damaged as he was; the oldest of the Lake Deities was a greedy old bastard after all. Like all gamblers, the God of Chance liked to hedge His own bets and Graize wouldn’t be nearly enough insurance for Him.