The wall in Kevlin’s mind collapsed.
The next wave of magic pushed him through, and beyond. For a second there was only grinding pressure, as if his mind were being squeezed through a crack in his skull and pushed outside the physical confines of his body, expanding in a way he’d never imagined possible.
Then he was falling, propelled by the unstoppable force. All thought, all concern, all fear vanished. He didn’t even know if he still lived.
One word defined him, all that remained: Tia Khoa.
Driven by that single word, his consciousness expanded, reaching out with a finger of thought as he plummeted toward oblivion.
He touched it.
Plunging into Tia Khoa, his vision changed from the perfect blackness of his sightless mind to the deep blue of the rock’s magic. He hurtled past the will-o'-the-wisp lights until he sensed another presence.
This time, no wall blocked him. His mind connected with the presence, and it enveloped him. He reeled from the impact of that touch.
The other presence was so fundamentally different than anything he’d ever experienced, he couldn’t fathom it. For a split second, he touched a power so vast it stretched away like a never-ending chasm. His mind refused to comprehend it, and he pulled back from the brink to preserve his sanity.
Then there was nothing but the deep peace of Tia Khoa. It flooded through him, pulsing with the rhythm of life.
It changed the raging magic. That presence within the rock, that other being, absorbed the power, and somehow made it part of him.
Was it Tia Khoa? The name seemed inadequate, but he couldn’t say why. His vision cleared and he could see again, although the deep blue of Tia Khoa tinged everything. Still lying in the courtyard, filled beyond capacity with magic, he was once more master of at least part of himself.
The vast presence joined him in a corner of his mind. The magic filled him with life and unfathomable power. Still lacking control over his body, in his mind he threw back his head and laughed with joy, tears of pure magic coursing down his face.
The presence in his head pushed a thought to him and he blinked, suddenly enlightened. He knew how to release the magic. It was so simple, as if a light had come on in his head. He focused, his thoughts magnified by Tia Khoa, and formed a command.
Fire.
Magic thundered out of him, and a column of fire erupted out of the air around the highest tower of the keep. Even though he’d commanded it, the spectacle awed him.
Dense flames a hundred feet thick and rearing twice as high concealed the tower and roared like a living thing, a ravenous giant. The column swayed a little as it ate at the tower.
The gigantic flame consumed the magic at a terrific rate, but there was so much that it could burn for half an hour.
Wayra struck again even as the tower burned, a rippling sheet of magic that slammed into Kevlin’s torso. The amulet seared his chest with its heat.
The presence of Tia Khoa changed the new magic, making it part of him. It illuminated his understanding, pouring knowledge into him. He mastered concepts he couldn’t have grasped on his own. Next time, he could change the magic himself, without Tia Khoa’s help.
This is incredible!
# # #
The halimaw howled and thrashed in agony, knocking Tanathos back several paces.
He hadn’t stabbed it yet.
Tanathos frowned at the glowing runes covering the cavern walls. The node of power had already tried to kill him once. Was the beast trying to break free of his control?
It didn’t matter.
“You will die as I will,” he snarled and leaped at the still-thrashing halimaw. Slipping between its massive arms, he plunged the dagger through the monster’s thick hide.
It penetrated only an inch before the beast knocked Tanathos away. He rolled back to his feet and circled the monster. It continued to thrash around as if some other power was attacking it.
He only needed one good strike to reach its heart.
Seeing his chance, he lunged.
# # #
Flames poured into the room through the open window, consuming the bookcases and licking the rune-covered walls.
In the midst of the inferno, Wayra broke off the attack on Kevlin and shifted her focus to her failing shields. In a heartbeat, she dropped everything except a shield around herself. The flames burned with supernatural heat and ate through her barrier, forcing her to pour more and more power into buttressing her defenses. The power of the keep began to wane.
How is this possible? Had some new sentinel joined the attack? She could see nothing but orange flame.
Gathering her will, she struck one more time at the abomination known as Kevlin.
# # #
Ceren screamed and beat at the flames all around her. It took a moment to realize through her panic that she wasn’t dead. She wasn’t even hurt.
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
She slowly lowered her hands from her face and stared in awe at the inferno that burned everything but her.
How am I not dead?
Indira!
How long could the healer protect her from such a blaze? She had to focus. Fighting to quell her panic, and trying not to breathe too deep, she pushed through the flames.
She had to find Wayra.
# # #
More impressions came from the presence that was Tia Khoa, and Kevlin obeyed. He modified the stream of magic fueling the fire, expanding it to compensate for the greater force pouring into him from the amulet. It was as if he were standing in a raging river of fire roaring into, through, and back out of him.
It was the most awesome experience of his life.
The magic—his magic—filled him with power, with strength, and with light. The prior agony faded into shadowy memory as magic soothed and healed his body. He let part of his mind flow with it, savoring the new knowledge he gained.
Another bolt of hostile power slammed into him. With his newfound understanding, and with subtle guidance from Tia Khoa, he mastered the process of taking the power from the amulet and making it his own.
He poured the magic out as fast as it came in, a torrent fueling the flames which rose until they enveloped the entire keep. It burned so close to him that its heat blistered his skin, and its roaring pounded his ears.
The inferno melted the very stones of the keep, straining the limits of his control. Kevlin held on grimly, focusing every ounce of will to hold it in place.
Someone grabbed his arm and began dragging him away from the keep. He couldn’t even glance around to see who it was.
An invisible force suddenly tore at the column of fire, trying to rip it apart. The fire swayed, tilting dangerously as it pushed Kevlin’s fledgling mastery to the uttermost limits.
Wayra. It had to be.
The presence of Tia Khoa sent new promptings to him. He tried to obey, but could not. The instructions made no sense. Or rather, they seemed impossible, like trying to bend his leg up at the knee to touch his toe to his stomach.
Even as he tried to obey, his mind balked. To obey the prompting would alter the very nature of how he thought, to challenge the core of his identity. He would have to embrace magic without reservation and without malice. He would have to accept it as a force with which he could do much good, yet acknowledge the risk of abusing it just as so many others had.
The price of wielding the magic terrified him.
The column of fire sprayed flames, gyrating wildly. It would burst from his control in a moment.
He tried again to follow the new promptings, to bend his thoughts in new directions, but a stubborn core of his soul resisted the change. It was more than his distrust of magic. He needed to sail with a new tide, embark on a life where magic was part of him. To do so meant altering his identity at a fundamental level.
Could he really trust this presence that he couldn’t comprehend, or was it going to enslave him like Savas had tried to do?
Thou has the knowledge requisite for thine action. Thou must choose.
The voice in his head, barely a whisper, rocked him to his core. Savas had spoken in his mind, and the similarity made him shudder, although the voice of Tia Khoa carried no threat, no hint of domination.
Holding to that thought like a shield, he fought down his fear of magic, the distrust and resentment toward those possessing the actinopathic gift. He cast aside his terror and long-festering thirst for vengeance.
He felt numb, hollow. Then new emotions rushed in to fill the gap: the thrill of magic, excitement of knowledge, and hunger to learn more.
Making a choice, Kevlin stepped out of the realm of the familiar and into the shadows on a path he couldn’t yet understand. He cast himself onto this new tide, knowing his choice would change him forever, but unable to turn back. He would carry the burden until the new bearer of Tia Khoa was chosen by Harafin.
With that commitment, he finally managed to follow Tia Khoa's instructions. His mind shifted and expanded, and it amazed him to find just how right it felt, as if he had lived with a handicap all his life without knowing it.
As his control improved, the column of flame slowed its gyration, but did not entirely settle. Something fundamental within the flame had been damaged by Wayra’s blow.
New promptings came and he let his thoughts ride the river of magic toward the inferno. Immersed in the flames, he became one with them.
Then he understood.
The blaze wasn’t one giant, unbroken flame, but countless tiny tongues of burning energy that together formed the huge column. It pulsed with an internal rhythm that took those tiny flames and combined them into one body, but not all of them burned with the ebb and flow he had dictated. Some flickered to a different tune and threatened the whole with instability.
Harafin’s words finally made sense. Each tongue of fire pulsed with the rhythm of life, all in harmony with it even though they danced at different times. The individual pulses were masked by the overall flame, which explained why he had never noticed it before.
Those tongues of fire that threatened to break from his control had lost the rhythm, so he pulled them back into harmony. His control became complete, like a maestro conducting a mighty orchestra, all burning in harmony in their individual pulsing rhythms, all obeying his command.
It was a moment he would never forget.
As he pulled his thoughts away from the well-controlled flame, he extended his senses and drank in what they found: the excited breathing of soldiers massing on the lip of the cliff, the stirring of individual blades of grass that had survived the flood, the tug of hot wind from the fire, the very texture of the air.
He had mastered the magic and he could do anything with it. All he had to do was think it and speak it, and it would happen. The possibilities were endless, and exciting.
And terrifying.
Then he remembered: Antigonus!
Help me. Kevlin cast the thought toward the presence in his mind. How can I save Antigonus?
The measure of Antigonus’ life is fulfilled. Be at peace.
The authority of the voice was such that he couldn’t help but feel the peace it commanded, although part of him raged against it.
If only he’d acted sooner.
It was Wayra’s fault. She had delayed him, kept him from catching Antigonus.
He made the fire hotter.
# # #
Indira slumped to her knees, hands clutching her temples. Sweat matted her midnight hair and dripped from her chin. The strain of protecting Ceren threatened to drag her into unconsciousness.
Panting for breath, she held on. She’d never used her power this way to maintain the shield. Like exercising muscles never used, the strain soon turned painful.
I will not let her die.
“Are you all right?” Drystan asked, dropping to one knee beside her.
She clutched his arm and whispered, “Take me to Kevlin.”
# # #
Wayra tried to marshal the rapidly fading power of the keep. For a few heartbeats, it had looked like she was going to shatter that gigantic column of fire. But then she’d been rejected, and the flames burned hotter than ever.
She pushed against them, but couldn’t gain purchase. Whoever summoned the inferno controlled it with an iron hand. She’d never felt anything like it before. Her shields barely held, but the rest of the keep was succumbing to the flames. She could feel the slate roof tiles cracking and melting. She couldn’t shield it all.
Such unexpected helplessness infuriated her. It could not be happening!
Expanding the shield across the window, she sealed the upper room from the flames. As the fire dissipated in the room, she grunted in satisfaction, savoring the small victory. She just had to hold the inferno at bay until it petered out. No one could sustain a spell that massive for long.
# # #
Ceren crouched four paces behind Wayra, trying not to breathe. Wayra hadn’t notice her.
Her hand began to shake as she stared at the other woman's unprotected back. She’d never killed anyone before. Her mouth went dry, and she felt cold despite the stifling heat.
Taking a deep breath, she raised her sword and lunged.
The tip of her blade scraped Wayra’s spine before sinking to the hilt. Wayra screamed and twitched, sending a shudder up the blade to Ceren’s hand. It was all she could do not to let go of the weapon and back away with a shriek.
Ceren held on, and twisted.