To Whatever End (Echoes of Imara Book 1) (45 page)

Cecily clutched her ribs and staggered, trying to get her back to the wall. She backed into an upturned bench and lowered herself to the floor. She pressed her hand against the wound and felt blood leaking from her side. The noise of the battle was muted, as if she covered her ears with her hands. Time slowed as she looked around the foyer, everyone seeming to move as if caught in thick sap. Serv still fought the man in chains, his sword caught in a coil of metal. Rogan had Alastair at his side, but one of Nihil’s men closed in on them. Cecily blinked again. Mira and Merrick fought back to back as two men pressed close. Edson stood over Sumara, his sword hefted in front of him. Sumara sat on the ground and reached around his leg, lightning building in her hand, as a masked figure ran to attack. Callum stood nearby, his hand raised as he sent another Projection across the foyer, blood dripping from the dagger in his other hand. Griff flew backward as a hit from the stone man sent him flying. Pathius raged against Nihil, the shimmering shield starting to blacken at the bottom like the edge of burning paper.

The world sped up and sound came rushing back. Daro roared in pain, hunched down on his knees. The woman yelled, her face contorted with fury, as she clutched a medallion that hung from her neck.

Cecily winced as she pushed at her wound to stop the bleeding. Vision blurring, she clenched her teeth and groaned. Daro clutched his head and chaos spun around her, the sounds of battle rushing by.
We aren’t going to win.

She blinked her eyes open and let calm resignation settle over her. Leaning her head back against the bench, she turned toward her husband. The clamor of the battle fell away and she called out to Daro, her voice weakening with every word. “
Mynas feorh signede ewoer cweoan mynas son
. My soul sings and yours answers my song.
Aet-samne wea a-feagen.
Together we become one.
Ge-treowsian o arian ealdor be-innan eowa.
I pledge to honor the life within you.
An-standan neah eower siid.
And stand by your side.
O aeg-hwaet endian.
” She took a shuddering breath. “To whatever end.”

Something stirred inside Daro, like a piece of frayed rope winding itself back together. He shot his hand upward and grabbed onto the lifeline of Cecily’s hand. He pushed the walls of his refuge away, and they dissipated into mist. Cecily’s presence filled him through their bond, a deep well of peace and stability. His soul reached out to hers and their energy intertwined. It circled and twisted as the tendrils of their spirits connected, restoring their fractured bond.

His mind was clear. He pushed himself up to one knee and wiped the dribble of blood from his nose. The pain fell away as he blinked his eyes back into focus and rose to his feet. Sindre’s jolt of pain shot down his back, but he let it wash over him. He swung his gaze to Sindre and met her eyes. Her lips drew back over clenched teeth and she shouted something at him as another spasm of pain shot through his body.

No.

He reached back and dug into the back of his neck around his implant. His body surged with power as he wedged his fingers beneath the stone. The blinding pain nearly brought him to his knees. He cried out, letting his voice rip from his throat in a roar. He clung to the strength of his bond and pushed away the torment as he pulled the stone from his flesh. Blood trickled down his back as held it, a pale, diamond-shaped shard. He squeezed his hand to crush it and shook the blood-soaked fragments to the floor.

His gaze swung to Sindre and she gaped at him, silent. He rushed toward her and reached out to grab her medallion. He wedged it out of her hand and her arms fell away, her eyes wide. He pulled her face close to his, his hand tight on her medallion. He felt her connection to the stone, a coiling line of Wielding Energy flowing into her. He seized it and poured everything into her: his pain, the torment of the victims forced into him through the Arcstone, the chaos and suffering of his ordeal. As he thrust his agony in, her jaw dropped open and her eyes bulged. A high-pitched scream crawled from her mouth, starting low and building as Daro held her. Blood ran from her nose and leaked out the corners of her eyes as her scream turned into a noiseless wail.

Her body slumped to the ground and the chain broke off in Daro’s hand. He stood over her and watched her body as it twitched and shuddered, until she finally fell still. He looked down at the medallion in his hand and closed his grip, then squeezed and crushed it to powder. He opened his fist and let the remains pour out over Sindre’s body in a cloud of dust and chips of rock.

Cecily realized she’d been holding her breath and exhaled. The masked Wielders all backed away, looking around at each other. A weapon crashed to the ground behind her. Cecily took another breath and the masked figures all turned and ran for the door, disappearing down the dark staircase.

“No!” Nihil yelled. Pathius still stood in front of him, pressing into the Shield. The edges looked withered and black. “Get back here! You can’t run!” Nihil’s lips curled back over his teeth and his eyes were wild. “You’re mine!”

Pathius flung himself against Nihil’s Shield, and his primal shout cut through the stunned silence of the foyer. Daro ran to him, the broken manacles still hanging from his wrists. He reached his arms out wide and slammed into the Shield with his fists. Cecily could see sparks of energy shooting out across the surface of the Shield and Nihil stumbled backward. Pathius and Daro pressed in, attacking the Shield with fury. Pathius gripped it, as snapping ice spread around his feet, the air heavy with sparkling frost. Daro beat against it again, slamming his hands into the Shield. Cracks snaked out across the surface and Nihil shouted something unintelligible. Daro hit it again and the Shield exploded like glass, ripping across the foyer in a burst of energy. Nihil flew backward and hit the ground with a loud thud. Daro stumbled away with the force of the blast.

Pathius lurched forward, grabbed Nihil by the throat, and hauled him to his feet. Blood dripped from Nihil’s mouth. “You made me what I am,” Pathius said, his voice a growl, “but you don’t own me. This ends here.”

Nihil’s mouth hung open and his eyes goggled as Pathius gripped his throat. He clenched his teeth and scraped at Pathius’s arms but Pathius held fast. Nihil’s skin turned gray, his cheeks sunk in, and his body withered. His neck turned blue and frost crackled and spread out from his throat, turning his face to ice. Pathius’s shoulders heaved and he held Nihil’s body as the ice spread down to his fingertips. He let go and the body dropped, as stiff as if it had been cut from stone.

Cecily struggled to her feet and gripped her ribs. Serv sheathed his sword and rushed to her, limping as he ran. Callum stepped forward to stand at her other side. Edson helped Sumara to her feet and Merrick ran over to help Griff. Rogan hovered near the Paragon and Alastair still held out his sword. Mira had a cut across her cheek and held one arm tight to her body. They all looked around at each other, their eyes coming to rest on Cecily.

She looked over at Daro. He stared down at Nihil’s body, Pathius at his side. Pathius looked up, and his gaze moved around the room. He brushed the hair from his face and turned to Daro. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and then Pathius turned to lock eyes with Cecily. The muscles in his face twitched like a spasm of pain and he closed his eyes before turning away. He walked across the foyer and disappeared through the door.

Alastair and Rogan both stepped forward and the Paragon started to shout an order, but Daro held up his hand. “No.” All eyes swung to him and he shook his head. “Let him go.”

Cecily turned toward Daro and met his eyes. They still swirled with unnatural color, but recognition was plain on his face. She walked toward him, still holding her ribs, the pain all but forgotten. He stepped toward her and they stopped, facing each other. Tears sprang to her eyes and she took a shuddering breath as he reached out to brush her face with his fingers. He cupped her cheek and she pressed her palm into the back of his warm hand. Her chest felt full, as if she might burst. She closed her eyes and tears trailed down her face. He wrapped a trembling hand gently behind her head and led her into his embrace. She leaned into his chest and felt his strong arms envelop her. She tucked her arms in and let herself collapse against him as they sank down to their knees. His warmth poured through her and she shuddered with a quiet sob.

“I love you,” he whispered, his mouth close to her ear.

44. AFTERMATH

The wind blew through Daro’s hair, chill against his skin. He stood on the dock outside the
Lady Violet
, the riverboat’s huge wheel rising high into the air. The wide river ran by, flowing into the midst of the city on its way out to sea. Gray clouds hung heavy in the sky, threatening snow, judging by the cold bite in the air.

Cecily stood on the dock just ahead, speaking with Callum and the riverboat captain. She wore a burgundy cloak, stitched with a pattern of dark swirls and lined with black fur. The hood lay down her back and her dark hair hung in a loose braid, tendrils blowing around her face in the wind. She spoke to the captain, nodding and gesturing, as she finalized the arrangements for their voyage to East Haven. The captain smiled, put his hand to his chest, and bowed before he walked away up the gangplank to board his ship.

Daro’s memories were gradually returning, coalescing into recognition. He remembered his abduction and the early weeks of his captivity with vivid clarity. Most of it he wished he could forget. He knew he had spent months locked in Nihil’s compound and recalled what they had done to him. His neck twitched as he thought of Sindre and her medallion, Nihil’s cold eyes, the feel of the Arcstone under his hands.

His later memories grew muddled, hazy as if seen through an opaque piece of glass. He recalled destroying the watchtower, the thrill of strength as he unleashed his power. He closed his eyes as he thought of the blood of those innocent men, spilled by his hand. His sessions with the Arcstone blurred in a haze of violation, the feeling of other men’s energy rending through him and defiling his soul. Nihil’s experiments had pushed him past his limits. He remembered feeling as if he was caught in a storm at sea, the chaos raging around him. He’d closed himself off, buried his consciousness deep within the torrent, a desperate act of self-preservation.

He remembered the events leading up to the Lyceum, but it was difficult to distinguish which images were his and which belonged to the minds of the dead men Nihil had poured into him. He desperately wanted to believe he hadn’t tried to kill Cecily, but deep down inside, he knew. He could still see her face, terrified and gasping. They hadn’t spoken of it yet. Words of apology had lingered on his lips a hundred times over the last weeks, but he could never seem to get them out. How does a man apologize for trying to kill his wife? Her eyes told him he was already forgiven, but that only wrenched his guilt. He didn’t know if he could forgive himself.

Griff, Serv, and Edson approached from the riverbank. They’d insisted on seeing them off. The others had said their goodbyes in the city over the last several days. Merrick had left first, saying he was anxious to get back to his cabin. Daro helped him load a horse with supplies to keep him stocked for the winter. Mira had suffered broken bones in one hand and would need time to heal before going back to her duties at the palace. Sumara had declared she needed a holiday and would be spending the next month in her patron’s country manor outside Halthas.

“Well, my friend,” Griff said as he clapped Daro on the back, “have a safe trip home.”

He turned to them, marveling at their composure every time they saw his eyes. “I don’t have the words to thank you,” he said. He’d tried numerous times to express his gratitude to their companions, but words always fell short. “Not just for me, but for Cecily.” He glanced over at his wife. “I can’t imagine what she’s been through. I’m so grateful you were there for her.”

“It was our honor,” Serv said and gave Daro a shallow bow.

Griff stood with his legs wide, his arms crossed over his broad chest. “We’ll be heading east in a few months. We’ll be sure to make it through Norgrost.”

Cecily walked over to them, her pale cheeks blushing pink in the cold. “They’re loading the last of their cargo and are almost ready to leave.” She turned to Edson. “Are you certain you’re ready for another adventure after all this?”

Edson smiled, a light stubble showing on his upper lip. “I don’t know about adventures,” he said, “but I’ll be okay with them.”

“Ha!” Griff said, bellowing a loud guffaw, “he’ll be more than okay. Serv will make a swordsman of him yet. We have plenty of work to do. I suspect more than a few of our clients wonder where we’ve been. But don’t worry, we’ll have him back in time to hand him over to the Magisters. The Lyceum will get their turn with him next spring.”

“The Paragon gave me my letter of acceptance himself,” Edson said.

“I hoped I’d be able to help you with your admission,” Cecily said. “But I didn’t think it would be quite so dramatic.”