Wake up! Someone was shouting inside Moira’s head.
It hurts.
Moira’s first impression was of something cold and hard under her hands. Gradually she came to realize she was on the ground, but where? After a moment she remembered the street, and her attempt to get Gerold and Wat out of the city. She could feel something sharp pressing into her cheek, and she started to raise her head.
“Oh!” She immediately regretted the movement. Pain shot through her head and neck, making her want nothing more than to remain very still.
You have to get up, or we will die here. It’s coming. Let me help you!
She tried to open her eyes but was only partly successful. Her right eye revealed a chaotic world of movement and confusion. Her left eye didn’t open at all, though whether it was swollen shut or something worse, she couldn’t be sure yet. She thought she might have fallen into a puddle, for her face was wet. She wiped at it feebly with one hand. It didn’t feel like water—it was far too sticky. Who are you? she asked, addressing the voice in her head.
I’m you, the other you, the one you created. You have to get up, it’s almost too late!
Oh. She remembered now. The spellmind that she had inadvertently created when she escaped from the palace—when she had violated the rules her mother had taught her. As she thought about that she began to see the world again with her magesight. Its return created a terrible throbbing in her skull. It also showed her the carnage around her.
Bodies were everywhere. Stretch, still carrying Gerold, was standing over her, while Lenny and Larry seemed to have gone on a rampage. They were twenty feet away now, and the torn and mangled remains of the townsfolk that lay all about seemed to be primarily their handiwork. People were still charging at them, but flesh and blood was a poor weapon against spellbeasts. Her two guardians ripped and tore, shredding flesh and breaking bone with mad abandon.
A sharp resounding click reached her ears. It was a modest sound, as if someone had clapped two bricks together, but it heralded something far more powerful than the sound indicated. The metal monster was only thirty feet away, and it had pointed its boxy weapon at Lenny.
The lion shaped spellbeast was thrown back, a giant hole appearing through its torso followed instantly by an explosion in the building that stood behind him. Moira had felt it, but it had happened too quickly for her to understand. It almost seemed as if a rock had been thrown at unbelievable speed, tearing through Lenny and demolishing the wall of the nearest house.
Is that what hit me? she wondered.
Lenny recovered quickly, and ignoring the gaping tear through his magical body he sprang at the metal monster while Moira tried, and failed, to stand. Apparently the thing couldn’t fire its strange weapon again so soon, but a small metal door slid aside and a metal rod emerged. Light flashed, and a thunderous roar shattered the night, far louder than the noise made by its previous attack.
The sound didn’t stop. It went on, hammering at Moira’s ears as something too fast for her to see shredded Lenny’s body. The spellbeast’s great catlike body collapsed. Larry had charged from the opposite side of the creature, but it swiveled with smooth precision and brought its devastating weapon, still firing, to bear on her ape-like guardian.
The area around Moira was temporarily clear of living people, but a man stepped out from an alley and began running toward her. It took several seconds before she recognized him. It was Chad Grayson. A quick order stopped Stretch from attacking him.
“Where have you been?” she asked numbly, still in shock.
Kneeling, he slipped his arms under her and lifted. The hunter was not a big man, average in height and build, he probably weighed no more than hundred and sixty pounds, but as he stood she could feel the muscles in his arms pulling taut with hidden strength. “Why does every woman ask me that?” he replied before adding, “We have to go.”
Incredibly, he broke into a jog. The jarring movement did nothing to improve the pain she already felt.
“How did you find me?” she managed.
Moira was slender, but even so the ranger was already breathing hard as he answered, “I followed Gram. When I heard the commotion and realized he was heading for you, I ran ahead.”
Larry had managed to reach the metal beast and landed a heavy blow even as the thunderous weapon tore him apart. His fist hit the strange weapon, bending it, and a loud explosion followed. It fell silent then, but her guardian had taken too much damage, and he fell to one side, his magical body beginning to disintegrate.
Smoke rose from the blackened opening that the rod had emerged from, but the monster didn’t stop. Its legs began moving once more, and it turned to follow them, swiveling its torso to bring the box back into line with the fleeing humans.
Chad left the road, turning into a side alley when the strange clack sound rang out once more, and the building they had turned in front of shook. Seconds later the corner collapsed, spilling brick and masonry across the alley behind them.
“You left Gram behind?” Moira could see the four-legged monster struggling to climb over the rubble as Chad turned the next corner into a new street.
The hunter was panting too hard to answer, and his feet were slowing as he struggled to continue running with her, but a new voice found her mind. Moira! It was Cassandra.
I’m in trouble, she replied, sending a stream of images and words to describe what had happened as well as the metal monster that was following her.
I’m coming, answered her dragon, Head to the left. I’m to the west of you. I can’t stop, though. Grace is following me on foot, and she means to kill me.
“Turn left at the next corner,” Moira told her weary savior.
Chad stumbled but kept moving. “Why?” he panted.
She kept her answer short, “Dragons.”
He nodded and headed toward the turn she had indicated.
Why is Grace trying to kill you? Moira asked her dragon.
I believe Gram ordered it. Something is controlling him, the dragon answered.
Moira felt her jaw clench as she silently cursed. She was tired, and fatigue had clouded her mind. In spite of herself, she felt the fires of hatred beginning to kindle in her heart. Not Gram, not this—they’ve gone too far.
More people were closing around them, drawn inexorably to her, like moths to a flame. Even before the metal monster caught up to them they would be dragged down by a mob of lesser foes. Moira tried to create a shield around them and was rewarded with a stabbing pain in her skull. It felt as though someone had driven a knife between her eyes. Chad’s rapidly tiring legs weren’t going to be able to escape the crowd.
The starlight above dimmed as a massive shadow passed overhead and then the night was illuminated by a gout of searing flame. Cassandra dipped low and scoured the street behind them with dragonfire. Wooden buildings caught fire as if they were made of paper, and the people following—the less said of them the better. They died silently, their bodies enveloped by flames. The dragon beat her wings and began gaining height after her deadly pass.
Chad kept moving, but even with the horrors behind him, he could do no more than walk now. “This whole damn city is liable to catch fire,” he panted.
“Put me down. I think I can walk,” Moira told him.
The hunter was too tired to argue. Gently, he lowered her legs to the ground, and after she had tested them for a moment they moved on. He kept a hand on her arm just in case she lost her balance. Stretch followed, still carrying the unconscious baron on his back.
I’ll circle around and make another pass. There’s something still following you, said Cassandra in her mind.
Careful. The weapon it uses is deadly, warned Moira.
So am I.
Her legs weren’t hurt, but her gait was unsteady. As they went she tried once more to create a shield around them. This time she succeeded, but the result was less than impressive, and the pain it caused made it not worth the effort. With a sigh Moira let the shield fade.
Moira’s magesight was working properly, although it made her head ache. She could easily sense the metal monster closing on them from behind. It was still in the flames that covered the street, but it didn’t show any signs of slowing. Another shape approached from the darkness ahead of them, following the same course that Cassandra had flown. Moira recognized Grace bounding along the street toward them.
She could only hope that Grace’s order only included the other dragon, otherwise things would get worse very quickly.
The moment came and went almost before Chad could see her. The smaller, horse-sized dragon ran past them with the speed of a hunting cat. Moira caught a glimpse of Grace’s eyes as she passed, reflecting the flames that lit the street behind them.
Be careful, shouted Moira mentally, but if Grace heard her she gave no sign. A ton and a half of reptilian muscle, she passed the humans and threw herself at the metal beast that was just emerging from the fire.
“Don’t stop,” urged Chad when she began to pause and turn her head. “There’s nothing we can do against that thing.”
The metal monster failed to register her attack in time, temporarily blinded perhaps by the intense heat it had just passed through. Grace’s heavy body nearly bowled it over, but its four legs provided exceptional stability. She grappled the thing with teeth and claws, although they found little purchase against the hard metal.
Her greatest advantage was that the thing had only two arms, and those were small, probably meant to serve functional purposes rather than participate in melee combat. Scrabbling to hold on to a body with few places to grasp, Grace latched onto the right arm. Metal screamed as she ripped it free seconds later.
But its body was turning, twisting to bring the box-like weapon to bear.
Grace! The box is a weapon, don’t let it…!
Moira failed to finish the warning. Grace saw the threat and caught the metal device in her powerful jaws, crushing it with teeth that were stronger than any metal yet forged in Lothion. An odd clack rang out as the monster tried to fire, and then Moira and Chad were picked up and thrown by the force of a powerful explosion. Even Stretch was sent tumbling despite his bulk and four legs.
Moira found herself face down in the street once more, but she quickly levered herself upright with her arms. The world had gone silent, but her mouth was open. She could feel herself screaming, but for some reason she had lost the power to produce sound. The only thing she could hear was Cassandra’s voice in her mind, Noooooo!
The lower half of the metal beast still stood in the street, weak flames guttering from the shell of its torn and broken upper section. Moira’s one eye was unable to find the dragon, but her magesight discovered her seconds later, Grace’s broken body hung limply, impaled on a heavy roof beam that had been split by the force of the explosion.
This can’t be happening. The dragons her father had created were among the most powerful creatures left in the world since his war with the gods. Grace had been the firstborn child of her gift when she had come into her power. Losing her had never been among the remotest possibilities in her mind.
Seconds passed like hours as she stood there. Her logical mind told her that Grace could not die; the enchantment her father had crafted made the dragons immortal, but once her heart stopped beating the enchantment would reset. Grace’s mind would be wiped clean of all memories, and the magic that was at the core of her life would create a new egg. The bond she shared with Gram would end, and she would hatch anew once a new master had claimed the egg. She would be reborn, but she wouldn’t be the Grace that Moira had known.
Cassandra landed near them and lifted her head to the sky. Moira imagined she must be venting her rage and pain in a scream to the heavens, but it still could not pierce the silence that surrounded her. My ears aren’t working, she realized. With a feeling of detachment she turned her magesight inward, discovering that the force of the explosion had ruptured both of her eardrums.
The larger dragon moved forward, reaching out to pull Grace’s body from the massive timber that held her up, but Moira raised one hand, Stop. She’s still alive. Her aythar is there and the heart still beats.
The heart still pumped, but the thick wood had pierced her chest, ripping through one lung, several large arteries, and doing unimaginable damage to the organs in her abdomen. Worse yet, the explosion had broken her jaw and cracked her skull. It was a miracle that her lower jaw was even still attached.
They will pay for this! roared Cassandra in her mind. This city will burn!
In due time, agreed Moira, understanding her dragon’s sentiment. Her heart was numb, though as if she had forgotten how to feel. Was this how it was for father, when he saw his father die in front of him? She still remembered the look on his face when he had told her the story of her grandfather’s death.
“I could have saved him, but I couldn’t do everything at once. I was alone, and despite all my powers, I was helpless to stop the bleeding, remove the arrow, maintain his heart, and repair the damage to the muscle. All I could do was ease his passing,” her father had told her.
A decision formed within her, a resolve that went beyond conscious thought. Without fully knowing what she meant to do Moira stepped forward, walking until she was close enough to reach up and touch Grace’s tail where it hung above her. The heart was still beating, although it was slower now, and the rhythm was faltering. Ignoring the pain in her skull, she stretched out her aythar and used it to help support Grace’s struggling heart. Lend me your power, she told Cassandra.
A surge of aythar rushed into her, sending waves of pain rippling through Moira. She still hadn’t recovered from the feedback when her shield had been broken earlier. Using your power now is unwise. That warning came from her other self, the spell-twin that still haunted the back of her mind.
I don’t care, Moira answered. Help me.
How?
The young wizardess showed her the vision that was forming in her mind, and her spell-twin nodded in agreement, as you wish.
Moira began feeding aythar to her other self, and she felt again the strange wonder as her mind began to fragment. Except it wasn’t a sensation of breaking, or of becoming smaller, it was a feeling of growth. Her other self swelled with the power Moira was giving her and as she split into multiple new copies Moira felt as though she were growing ever larger.
The agony in her skull became more intense as she channeled Cassandra’s aythar into her spellmind copies, but she forced herself to continue. She only had to deal with the pain. She only had one task. Her twins felt none of that pain, and they would do what needed doing.
Moira expanded, becoming first ten and then twenty. One part of her was on fire, burning as her mind sent forth the aythar that the others needed to work. The rest of her was ready, focused and calm. Once she had grown great enough, the voice of the one in pain cried out, do it!
A dozen things happened at once. Grace’s body was lifted, pulled from the wooden spike that pierced her and laid gently to rest on the ground, while simultaneously the hole in her chest closed. The arteries and veins that pulsed with rushing blood found their separate parts and closed, keeping what remained of the dragon’s blood in the veins where it was needed. Her jaw realigned itself, and the bones fused again becoming whole even as the skin and muscles were brought back into place and mended. Even the crack in her skull was fixed.
Less than half a minute had passed, and now Moira’s other selves began to work on the internal organs, knitting the intestines and liver back together and sealing a myriad of smaller blood vessels.
***
Chad watched in steadily growing amazement. He generally didn’t concern himself with magic, or the doings of wizards, but despite his insouciance he had spent an inordinate amount of time around them over the years. He had watched Mordecai heal on numerous occasions, and he knew that what he was seeing now was unusual.
His careful eyes also noted the subtle tremor in her stance as she worked—and the new blood that had begun to drip from Moira’s nose.
She had been badly battered when he found her, one eye swollen shut and a cheek that looked as if the bones underneath had moved to places they shouldn’t be. While he didn’t know much about how magic worked, he had heard the Countess complain often enough about the strain it had placed on her husband in the past, and the times he had nearly killed himself by trying to push beyond his limits.
Worried he stepped closer, “Hey, I think you’ve done enough, lass. Save your strength, we still haven’t made it out yet.” His voice sounded strange, there was a ringing so loud in his left ear that he could barely hear his own words; his right ear offered only silence. He lifted a hand to touch her shoulder, but he stopped when she turned and faced him suddenly.
“Do not interfere with us. We are not finished.” Two eyes stared back at him from an unblemished face as Moira walked toward him, warning him away with upraised hands.
He blinked, hard. The girl in front of him looked to be Moira Illeniel, but she wasn’t. She had stepped out of Moira. There were two of them now. The original still stood facing the dragon, her body shaking and looking as though she might collapse at any time.
“What the hell?!” he finally managed to say. Glancing past the newcomer, he saw Moira sway, as if she were about to fall. “She can’t take much more of this.” He attempted to move around the doppelganger, but she sidestepped to block his path.
“You’ll only make things worse, if you interrupt before we are finished,” warned the girl in front of him. As she spoke the original Moira’s legs started to give way, but a third copy appeared and caught her fall, holding her upright. There were three of them now.
Chad was used to being given stupid orders, and just as used to ignoring them, “This ain’t right. She needs to stop.” Pushing the girl aside, he tried to get to Moira’s original body.
There was a moment of contact, when he felt the copy’s body under his hand, but then she dissolved. He shivered as he felt her slide through his skin, and then she was gone. Standing utterly still, he struggled to understand what had happened before continuing onward, to help Moira.
Except that he didn’t. His body stubbornly refused to move. Instead, he turned and found himself scanning the streets to see if any more of the city’s weird citizens were approaching. Confusion grew as he started walking, moving away to scout the path ahead. He thought that the road ahead and then to the left at the next crossing, would lead them out, but he wasn’t certain. What am I doing? This isn’t what I fucking meant to do!
Don’t struggle. It was Moira’s voice in his mind.
Get out of my head, wench! I don’t need some stupid… His thoughts stopped there, and he found himself mute, even within his own mind.
That’s enough of that language. I’ve been thinking you could use some improvements. This is a perfect opportunity to smooth some of those rough edges, she commented.
He had no idea what she meant, but a feeling of stark fear gripped him.
Don’t worry. It won’t hurt. You’ll be better than before, and much nicer…
Stop! Somehow he thought the new voice was different, even though it sounded like Moira as well. You will not alter him. Just keep him still until we are done.
Chad felt a sense of disappointment from his captor. Very well. I will fix his ears, though. Unless you consider that to be ‘interfering’ as well.
A feeling of warmth began in his right ear, followed by a milder sensation in his left. His hearing improved greatly, and although the ringing didn’t completely stop it was considerably reduced.
For a moment he was free, and he turned back to look at the wounded dragon. Grace’s body was covered in blood, but it looked intact now, her head had regained its customary shape and the gaping hole in her torso was gone. Moira had gone limp, her battered body supported by two seeming clones on either side. Her head had fallen forward, and her chin nearly touched her chest.
More copies stepped out of her, and soon she was surrounded by a crowd of look-alikes. They faced inward, eyes closed, almost as if they were praying over the body of their progenitor, when suddenly the battered girl’s body went rigid, her head upright.
As he watched her face moved as though something were crawling beneath the skin of her cheek. Belatedly, he realized it was the bones moving to realign themselves. The scrapes and cuts on that side of her head closed, and within moments she looked much better. Almost invisible lines showed where she had been cut, and the only sign of her previously broken bones was a slight swelling on that side of her face.
Blood still dripped from her nose, though, and her visage was marked by a tightening that suggested she was trying to hide an intense inner pain.
Moira’s eyes opened, gazing into space at something Chad couldn’t see. Then her duplicates began stepping inward, superimposing themselves on her body before vanishing. Seconds later they were alone.
The hunter stared a moment longer before looking away, “Well fuck me.”