75. MOVING FORWARD

Kihrin’s story

Khorvesh, just outside the Korthaen Blight

Just after Tya screamed

A second after Morios stopped breathing destruction over the landscape, Sharanakal started, which had the lovely side effect of creating little molten puddles of metal—all varieties—dotting the area. I kept up the barrier I’d raised to fend off Morios’s swords, knowing it would also need to protect against the Old Man’s pyroclastic flows. I shielded Tya as well, who was gritting her teeth as she tried to keep the wall stable. She’d already taken several bad hits, including a metal shard through one of her calves.

She glanced over and saw me. For a split second, the terror was large and stark behind her red eyes, and then she blinked as she realized I was protecting her. I was starting to recognize that look of hope warring with cynical realism.

“I can’t hold it,” she whispered.

“Let me help. Janel will never forgive me if I let you die,” I told her.

She blinked. I watched as she jumped to the entirely correct conclusion. “Kihrin?” She at least didn’t say it loudly.

“Shh. Let that be our secret—”

A wave of pain raced over me, settled into the cracks in my souls. I screamed as I felt Xaltorath attempt to rip my souls from my body using one of Thaena’s powers. Never mind that Xaltorath hadn’t eaten Thaena in this timeline. Clearly, at some point, she had.

But seriously, if it was that easy to kill Vol Karoth, Thaena would’ve done it a long time ago. Probably Xaltorath was just trying to get my attention.

***NOW DON’T SPOIL MY FUN,*** Xaltorath said. ***WE WERE JUST GETTING TO THE GOOD PART.*** The demoness walked over from where she’d teleported in, giving barely a passing glance to the dragons, even though Morios had just started his next attack. She seemed in no rush.

There was a strange sort of energy balance to Vol Karoth. Too much and I couldn’t hold it all. Not enough and I became so hungry I was a hazard to everyone around me. Put me in a position like this, where I was required to throw out massive quantities of energy to stop the attacks of two dragons while simultaneously absorbing the energy from those same attacks?

I could do this all day. Until it was too much or not enough and then I was back to being in trouble.

“Attack Xaltorath, attack the demon!” I screamed at the dragons, hoping that they too would prove suggestible to my commands. Morios immediately broke off from showering the area around Tya with knives and instead swiveled his head to focus on Xaltorath.

Xaltorath’s mental voice was lyrical and sweet as she continued the onslaught. ***EARTHGOD ENRAGED, BY NATURE’S PLIGHT, PULLS THE SKY DOWN, TO DESTROY THE BLIGHT. DEVASTATE? NO, PERHAPS ANNIHILATE!*** She broke off in a snarl as I tried the other way of defending against her—getting in a good attack of my own.

Khored and Ompher teleported into the area at the same moment Tya lost control. The wall of energy surrounding the Korthaen Blight vanished.

Given the amount of debris, dust, and ash in the air, I didn’t see any change. The magical barrier had stayed in position for long enough to contain the worst effects of the initial blast and heat wave, but that only meant the forces inside were still primed to leave. A giant wall of superheated matter began to collapse, rolling out like an avalanche while a black-and-red mushroom cloud lit from within by a thousand lightning storms soared up into the sky.

I had no idea how to fix this. This fell solidly into the “too much” camp.

Ompher soared forward on a moving band of molten rock. He paused for just long enough to stare at me. His eyes were haunted.

“If you really are S’arric,” he said, “then make damn sure they find a good replacement for me. Xaltorath had the right idea. I should go join my wife.”

“No,” I said. “Whatever you’re planning, stop.”

“Ompher, wait!” Khored yelled.

But Ompher was already moving, a rolling ground wave carrying him forward toward the inferno. Ahead of him, the billowing clouds retreated. Behind him, those same clouds drew in at his heels like hounds called to order. Matter fell toward him the way it might toward any planet. I lost him from view.

Inside the area, the giant fireball condensed, pulled in on itself. Ompher was fixing his mistake. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of approval, of pride, but it was chased down by the realization that Ompher would kill himself doing it. Which he’d known. He was pulling all that energy into himself, and he wouldn’t be able to channel it—

Wait. Where had Xaltorath gone?

I heard the flapping of giant wings. More wings. I began mentally reciting all the curses I’d ever learned from Tyentso as I turned to see Baelosh and Sharanakal fly in. Sharanakal landed with a momentous ground shudder while Baelosh continued to circle, unwilling to touch molten rock.

But Sharanakal? Sharanakal was right over—

The first Sharanakal gave me a look both simultaneously playful and hideously evil. He raised his head back to breathe, flickering as he did through every other dragon’s shape. Not all at the same time either, so one moment he had Aeyan’arric’s face, and the next moment Rol’amar’s. So not Sharanakal, then. Gorokai.

“No, don’t you dare!” I shouted, a spike of genuine dread racing through me. I didn’t think Gorokai could hurt me—much—and I wasn’t sure what he’d do to the other Guardians. That was the problem. There was no way to know. His breath would twist apart the landscape and mutate everyone nearby in a million unpredictable ways.

If any of the dragons were the literal embodiment of chaos, who couldn’t be controlled, who would rebel against orders just for fun …

Gorokai’s eyes twinkled, and I knew that yes, he was about to attack. Then a white blur of motion dove straight at Gorokai as Aeyan’arric slammed into the chaos dragon, sending both of them rolling into the shaking ground. Giant clouds of dirt and debris rose into the air as they crashed into the base of one of the mountains. Trees toppled in riotous chorus.

But all this was a distraction. I tore my eyes away from the sight. Where was Xaltorath?

Behind me, Tya was recovering and trying to restore the shield. It was only useful because the vast rising cloud was collapsing, falling back down to earth. Tya would have to restore the wall soon or it would spill out and wipe out most of Khorvesh and Marakor, even if Ompher’s gravity did manage to gather it all back in again.

“Don’t attack anyone! That’s an order!” I shouted at the dragons, who seemed understandably mystified that I’d changed my mind on the whole “let’s watch it all burn” plan that I’d pursued so vigorously for almost four thousand years. They were fighting my orders too, which boded especially well for how the rest of this battle was going to go. On a deeply fundamental level, the dragons wanted to destroy. Anyone telling them differently—even me—was suspect.

“There!” Khored shouted, pointing with the sword. “She’s in the Blight!”

I blinked. “In the Blight? Who’s in the—”

Xaltorath. She was in the Blight.

I didn’t have time to feel sick or dizzy or shocked. No time to properly appreciate the horror of the situation. The last time I’d seen her, Xaltorath had been composing a bad rhyme to commemorate the event. Because she’d been writing what would no doubt be the first of many prophecies she would use to leave notes to herself when Xaltorath started the timeline all over again.

Which she was about to have enough power to do, thanks to Ompher’s rash attempt to kill me. Even besides the power of the explosion itself, Ompher wouldn’t have enough strength to resist her. Not after this.

I turned toward the Blight. The swirling clouds of fire and ash pulled back, collapsing into a ball growing smaller with each passing moment. I couldn’t see either Ompher or Xaltorath—but I could feel their auras, and they were right on top of each other. And then, that quickly, there were no longer two auras. Just one.

Just Xaltorath.

She was ironically doing the same thing as Ompher—pulling in all the released energy of the explosion, but whereas he’d been doing it to save lives, Xaltorath was doing it to provide the extraordinary energy she needed to twist back time itself.

I was unsure which of us had a larger capacity to absorb energy. That probably seems strange, since that’s my speciality, right? But I had a physical body and Xaltorath didn’t. I’d been mutated into something that was like a demon in my ability to absorb energy, while Xaltorath theoretically had no limits at all. A less powerful demon would have been overwhelmed, but after absorbing Galava and who knows how many other demons, I had zero doubt that she was capable of swallowing all the energy Ompher’s tightly contained fireball could provide. Could I? Yes, but I’d damn well better have something to do with that energy afterward or all I’d do was delay the explosion.

But it didn’t matter: I had to stop her, or this was over. For everyone.

I knew her location, and I knew where she’d have to stay in order to finish absorbing the explosion. Once she did that, Xaltorath would have enough power to perform whatever ritual or spell she used to loop time and begin again.

I didn’t know what would happen next. Would it seem like nothing because from my own perceptions she would have shunted herself into a parallel dimension? Would we all cease to exist as reality turned back two thousand years while Xaltorath once more chased down her chance to take it all?

I didn’t know, and I didn’t want to find out.

That meant that, despite my best intentions, we had to proceed with the next stage now. The plan either moved forward or stalled forever.

I reached out to a group of minds I knew well. “There’s a problem,” I told them. “Stage two starts now. Swords away when you arrive; nothing here will attack you.”

I felt confident making that claim. The dragons were too busy fighting each other, and Xaltorath was preoccupied. Still, each word felt like the tick of a clock, reminding me that I had no way to know how much time we had left.

First, I burned Senera’s air glyph into everyone’s clothing and then followed that up with a different glyph that protected against fire.

Then I teleported the entire group to my location and threw a chunk of my energy into keeping myself from killing anyone who wandered too close.

“Everyone” was not, in fact, everyone. But it was Xivan, Talea, Senera, and Thurvishar. Xivan because the plan hinged on her. Talea both because we needed the luck but also because she’d surely find a way to kill me if I left her behind. Senera and Thurvishar because they could guide Xivan through the spell and because, of all the others, they were the ones most likely to be able to survive this level of fighting.1

The four looked shocked when they arrived, but given the dragons present and the hellscape that greeted their arrival, I could hardly blame them. At that precise moment, Aeyan’arric was still wrestling with Gorokai, and Sharanakal and Baelosh had started snapping at each other because they’d always been like that, even before they were dragons. Rol’amar hadn’t yet rejoined us, but I didn’t give it very long.

I pointed toward the Blight. “Xaltorath’s going to drain the energy from that explosion to power her time travel ritual. She’s going to restart the whole thing.”

“What are you talking about?” Khored snapped. “Time travel?”

Thurvishar eyed the still-raging mass of clouds, now shifting in odd ways through a combination of Tya’s wall and Xaltorath’s feeding.

“We can’t go in there until they’ve pulled out the energy from the entire explosion, but if we wait that long, we also won’t stop her from leaving for a private location where she can finish her ritual in peace.” Thurvishar frowned. “We need to distract her so she doesn’t want to leave.”

“That’s easy,” Xivan said. “Her weakness has always been the same as Suless’s. She wouldn’t steer a boat across a river to save a drowning child, but she’d swim through rabid crocodiles to hold that same kid’s head underwater.”

“Kihrin,” Senera said. “Why isn’t Janel here?” she said in a way that made it clear she already knew the answer—sympathetic but also a little chiding.

I gave her a wry smile, aware that I was still a silhouette of darkness and she couldn’t see my expression. There was no defending the decision, so I wasn’t going to try. I hadn’t brought Janel or Teraeth because I hadn’t wanted to risk either of them.

“She’s about to be.”

Unfortunately, it’d just become necessary. Because Senera was right. Janel needed to be there. Xaltorath would always hold a special place in her vile core for her adopted daughter. If she thought she had a chance to rub salt in Janel’s wounds, she’d grab it with both hands.

“You’re up next. We need to keep Xaltorath busy. I suggest challenging her to a fight.” With that, I gave Janel and Teraeth the same protections I’d given the others and brought the two of them over as well.

I couldn’t leave Teraeth out of it for the same reason I hadn’t left Talea behind.

By this point, the collapsing cloud of death had turned into an enormous fire whirl. The edges of it began to hit Tya’s rewoven barrier as it sank down into a squat shape, all the while continuing to circle the center of the Blight. The volume was lowering fast, falling back to the earth inert and cold as Xaltorath tried to consume every single morsel of energy from the massive act of destruction.

“Janel?” The first person to speak was Tya.

Janel crossed to her mother’s side.

“Yes, it’s me,” Janel said. “Please help us. Help him. I promise you that this isn’t what it seems.”

“Unless you think that we’re the misunderstood good guys,” Teraeth said, “in which case, carry on. But we need to leave.”

“Teraeth,” Khored said, and it wasn’t clear if that word was meant to scold, cheer, or simply greet.

“We need to leave now,” Teraeth said.

**I SEE YOU!** Janel shouted. **I SEE YOU, XALTORATH! DON’T YOU WANT TO COME OUT AND SAY HELLO? IT’LL BE LIKE A FAMILY REUNION—JUST YOU, ME, AND MY REAL MOTHER.**

“If this doesn’t work, maybe Jarith?” Senera tapped her lower lip thoughtfully. “Or Sheloran?”

“If this doesn’t work, I don’t think we’ll have the chance to try again,” Thurvishar said in response. He was clearly keeping his eyes on the dragons, following their motions even as he spoke to Senera.

The tornado had become a gyre, now a dull dirty gray and black as cooled debris began to slow. The spreading wave of falling rock and dust spread from the center outward as Xaltorath made one final push, or rather, pull.

Tya dropped the wall. There was no need for it anymore.

And in the center of the Korthaen Blight, glowing from the strength of the stored energy inside her, waited the Queen of Demons, Xaltorath.