First Rider's Call
Page 165

What are you? Karigan wondered, shaking from cold and fear.
The thing reared up before her, reared up higher than the tops of trees, its forelegs with clawed feet stretching up against the backdrop of falling snow. It howled into the night.
Horrified, Karigan screamed, too, and plunged her branch into its underside. The creature bellowed, but her makeshift weapon did it no harm—it was absorbed into its body.
That’s what’s going to happen to me. It was going to absorb her and consume her. She had no doubt of it.
She spun and ran, calling on reserves of strength that really weren’t there. She ran heedlessly, certain the end was near.
The beast charged after her. She could almost feel its breath on the back of her neck, and she knew she must be in range of snapping jaws or the swipe of a claw.
She did not want to die. She did not want it to end this way.
She stumbled down an embankment and her feet flew out from beneath her. She sprawled onto a hard surface, a pond sealed in glittering black ice. The wind had swept it clean of snow.
Her momentum sent her gliding and spinning away. She gazed into the ice as she went and it was like looking into the heavens whirling beneath glazed glass, for there were bright pinpoints of stars there. Spinning she went, spinning across the heavens.
Fractures marred the ice—she feared her weight would send her crashing through into the freezing water, but she glided safely over them.
The creature paused its pursuit by the pond’s edge, at first hesitant. But with its prey so close by, it tossed caution aside and dashed onto the ice, at first scrambling for purchase, then unsheathing its claws to grip the slippery surface.
Karigan tried to regain her feet in the face of the creature’s onrush, but she just kept slipping. Ice chips flew as the creature bounded toward her, its claws scoring the black ice.
This is it, then. Karigan closed her eyes, finally finding her end.
Yet it wasn’t to be so. The splintering of ice cracked through the forest and roused her. The creature had reached the fractured patch, which gave way beneath its feet. It screamed and thrashed, fought to pull itself back onto solid ice, but only broke more ice. The creature sank beneath the pond’s surface, and did not re-emerge.
The broken ice released the heavens that had been locked beneath it. Clear, dark night, unpowdered by snow squalls, spread upward from the hole, carrying with it a galaxy of stars.
Beyond exhaustion, Karigan laid her head on her forearm and sighed deeply.
They rushed to Karigan’s side when she screamed.
“What’s happening?” Garth demanded.
Ty shrugged.
Karigan had partially thrown one of the blankets off herself. Was she dreaming? Was it a nightmare? Laren had no way of telling, but thought it a hopeful sign, better than total lack of consciousness.
Karigan thrashed some more, then fell limp, breathing heavily.
“Look.” Garth pointed at her left arm.
At first Laren thought Karigan was bleeding, but what oozed from her arm was a black, oily substance. She had seen its like before, in the castle’s throne room two years ago. It pooled onto the floor, then slithered to and fro in the cracks between the stone flagging, as if to find an avenue of escape. It could not. Then quite suddenly it evaporated with a hiss of steam.
“Gods!” Garth exclaimed. “What was it?”
The illusion, Merdigen, had come up behind them and watched over their shoulders. “Tainted wild magic. She’s better off for having expelled it.”
As if to confirm his words, Karigan sighed deeply and sank into what appeared to be a peaceful, normal sleep.
Journal of Hadriax el Fex
Alessandros has betrayed us. He has betrayed everything. His madness is destroying the ideals upon which the Empire was founded, this world, and even those who have proven themselves loyal time and again. I can barely write—my hand shakes so from outrage and grief. Tears blur the ink.
Alessandros has committed a terrible act. He made a sacrifice today—not of prisoners or slaves, not even of Elt.
I had just returned this afternoon from a campaign to the west, and my men and I had barely dismounted when we found ourselves, along with others of the town and palace, being ushered inside to the great hall by Alessandros’ guards. We were all confused and did not know what to expect.
Alessandros stood upon a raised platform—a stage, now that I think of it—before drawn curtains. He had news, he said, news of great import that would finally secure our victory in the war. A great cheer went up in the hall and the people chanted his name. He grinned and raised his hands to silence them.
When all was quiet once again, Alessandros explained he had made the Black Star immeasurably stronger, and that it was the greatest weapon the world had ever known. To do so, he had had to make sacrifices, but we shouldn’t be sad, he said. The sacrifices would save so many more lives. The assembled shifted uneasily and I wondered what he had done this time.
Then he made the curtain vanish.
Seated in perfect rows upon the stage were the revered warriors of the Lion regiment. Our best and bravest soldiers, the pride of the Empire. They wore tunics of purest white trimmed with gold. Lions embroidered in red and gold thread roared upon their chests. Beneath the tunics they wore their golden parade armor, glittering in the light of the prisms. Their golden helms were placed at their feet, and bared swords across their knees.
Renald sat in the front row with the other officers, his tunic adorned with glistening medals of valor, medals of service, and medals of merit. About his waist was the gold-embossed belt I had had crafted for him when he made captain. The belt buckle was a lion’s head.