King of Chaos Read online

  I felt myself torn to pieces, each one falling in a different direction until they landed hard on the cool wet evening grass. Looking up, all I could see was the constellation called the Stair of Stars.

  My gaze climbed the steps, one by one, until at last it reached the pole star, Cynosure.

  "Desna weeps."

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The King of Chaos

  Varian

  A cloud of blood expanded behind Oparal as she ran toward us. In her arms she clutched a pair of books, the lingering energies of their magic still flickering across the edges. I recognized them as the Lacuna Codex and the Lexicon of Paradox—the latter filled with its previously missing pages.

  As Oparal drew near, she saw that my eyes and those of all the others not presently engaged in fighting for their lives lay not on her miraculous return but on the plume of blood where Radovan's devil body had only moments earlier hovered beyond the stone circle.

  "He is not dead," I said to anyone who could hear. "I have thought him dead before, and I was wrong each time. There is no point in thinking he is dead."

  Even as I said the words, I felt ice forming in my heart. As I raised my eyes to look upon the wings of the transfigured succubus, the cold crept into my every limb and digit. It did not paralyze me.

  It made me hard enough for murder.

  At my side, Arnisant growled. He pressed his shoulder against my hip, and I felt the heat and trembling inside him. He too wanted the sign to kill.

  "Count Jeggare," said Oparal. She pushed the books toward me. I sheathed my sword to accept them. "Do something."

  The Lexicon was warm to the touch, the Codex even colder than my hatred. The hairs on my arms rose where their arcane energies licked over my arm. I resisted the urge to throw the useless things away. "It is no use," I said. "There is no time to study them, no time to set their spells in mind."

  "But you've read them already," said Jelani. "You studied the Lexicon for days. You copied spell after spell from your grimoire. All you need now is to trust that the power resides within you."

  "No. For all your good intentions, you are wrong. I am a wizard, not a sorcerer. The world operates on principles of reason, not intuition." I opened my clenched hand and looked down at my last remaining riffle scroll. Why I had drawn it, I could not say. It was next to useless.

  Yet perhaps not entirely so.

  Riffling the pages across my thumb, I evoked a gust of wind, letting the spent riffle scroll fly away as the blast raised sand and dust from the ground, blowing back the bloody mist to reveal what lay upon the ground.

  The scorpionlike giant Viridio was the first to emerge. It stood even taller than when incarnated on Radovan's soul, nearly fifteen feet tall at the shoulder. Its features were far less human, its heavy carapace sheltering a retracting head. Its arachnid eyes scanned the field, lingering only briefly on my party before fixing on the transformed succubus. It crouched low, tail curling as it considered its next move. Then it bounded away, leaping to plunge into a gang of demons loping down from Greengrave Keep looming above the circle.

  Two devils flew up from the cloud of dust and blood.

  One was an imp whose name I knew was Quang. I had encountered hundreds of its type, usually as familiars to the diabolists of Cheliax or our western holdings. The little terrors flew freely over the skies of Korvosa, where they battled with house drakes for territory. This one tumbled head over spurs in my blast of air, clutching its potbelly. A pair of coiled horns curved up from its angular face. At chin and toe and tail, black hooks curved from its scarlet flesh.

  The other flyer was a dark angel, one of hell's winged archers. Her kind I had seen most recently at the Gate of Heaven and Hell in distant Tian Xia. From Radovan's description, I knew this one was named Eriakne. Heavy scars formed whorls and paths across her blue-gray skin, and the wind blew traces of ash off her blackened wings.

  A fourth devil rose from the ground. Its aspect was that of a small boy wreathed in purple flames. Even at a distance, I could see it had mouths for eyes, and before it could raise its fallen veil, I saw a long, wet horror drooping from the ragged sphincter of its mouth. It raised a hand as if to ward off a blow from above and vanished in a flicker of its own fire.

  There should have been a fifth—some shapeless fiend known as Gharalon—but of that devil I saw no sign. An instant after that thought, a thick mist blew back against the direction of my spell. It pushed us back on our heels. At my side, Arnisant whimpered. The Kellids murmured and clutched their totems. The crusaders made the sign of Iomedae. Even Tonbarse called out a prayer in some ineffable language.

  Eriakne screeched like an eagle and flew away to the east.

  The imp flew toward us, careful to remain well beyond the range of our blades. It threw a jaunty wave at us and cried, "So long, saps!"

  The succubus turned toward us. Her ruby eyes fixed on Oparal, who stood at my side. Aprian handed her a bloody sword, freshly scavenged from the hand of one of his fallen crusaders.

  "Yavalliska," Oparal said to me. "By the grace of Iomedae, I was able to disperse the stream of chaos from the Worldwound. Let us pray it was in time."

  "In time for what? For her to summon a hundred more fiends?" said Urno. The dwarf's face was striped with blood and ichor.

  "To stop her from becoming the god of blood."

  "Oh, is that all?" said the dwarf, hefting his axe. His brave tone didn't quite disguise his fear.

  As my windy spell subsided, the bloody dust pooled at Yavalliska's feet. I could see no other bodies lying on the ground behind her, but something stirred in the obscuring cloud. Without thinking, I gestured as I might have done had I prepared another scroll with the same spell.

  Another blast of air blew forth, scattering the dust. It did not reveal Radovan, as I had half-consciously hoped. Instead, dozens of young succubi rose from the ground, their damp wings unfolding like flower petals.

  There were no two of them alike in form or coloration. They resembled all the beauties I had ever seen, dark or light of skin, ample or slim, fair or black or gold of hair. Their eyes were gems, deep waters, clear skies, and spring buds. Their wings spread wide, drying in the night air. Most were the color of coal dust or rich soil. A few were pale or spotted, but even in such plentiful comparison, every one remained a beauty unparalleled.

  All of them looked to me and smiled like secrets, winked more than a hint of sin.

  "They're peering right into all my guilt," Urno cried. "Away, ye damned temptresses!"

  "Turn away," said Oparal, casting her own gaze to the ground.

  I looked away, but only to set my eyes on Yavalliska. Desna favored me, for the succubus did not capture me with her gaze. Instead, she looked down at the legion of succubi born of her blood. "My daughters," she said, in a mockery of maternal affection.

  Aprian intoned a prayer, but his exhausted voice conveyed no more divine magic. He was as depleted as I.

  "Destroy them, Varian!" said Jelani. "Cast your most powerful spell! Look, the books are feeding you!"

  Baffled, I looked down at the Codex and Lexicon. As Jelani said, each of them pulsed with arcane power—far more than they had moments earlier. But what drew my attention more was my empty hand, the one from which I had just cast another gust of wind.

  My empty hand.

  "Dry your wings, my children," said Yavalliska. "Bring them all here to worship at my feet. We shall have the Chelaxian complete the ritual that Osirian bungler could not, and this time the prince's pet shall be our first sacrifice. Then shall we feast."

  Extending my hand, I imagined the formula for the most powerful frost spell I knew. My fingers traced the esoteric signs as I murmured the evocation.

  Nothing resulted.

  "I cannot do it," I said. "I remember the spell perfectly. It simply will not work without prepar—"

  "Don't remember how it works, you fool," Jelani slapped me across the face. "Remember how it feels!"

  Only a lo
ng lifetime of propriety prevented me from striking her back. Gritting my teeth, I turned away from her and cast all my anger at Yavalliska, thrusting out my hand in a gesture similar but not identical to the one I had learned from my grimoire.

  A narrow cone of ice shot forth, striking the transformed succubus in the face. She reeled backward, nearly falling to the stone of the circle before catching herself on one hand. Frost whitened her face, sealing her eyes and stopping her mouth with ice.

  Her succubi stepped forth.

  One of them came for me. "Varian," she said. "Stop this foolishness. Come to me. Lay your head in my lap, and let me soothe your heated brow."

  I felt the tug of unbidden desire, as much within my heart as within my loins.

  Yet my fury still superseded my lust. I shook off the unwelcome pangs and tore my gaze from my temptress.

  Beside me, I saw others do the same, or fail.

  Aprian and Oparal raised their blades and stepped toward the succubi.

  "Ye bastards!" roared Urno. He leaped at Aprian, axe high. "I'll not let you hurt these girls!"

  Naia shuddered, her gaze switching between Oparal and another of the succubi. "No, Captain. I'm sorry, but I can't let you do this." She raised her sword.

  Dragomir rushed toward me, his dark eyes wet with tears. "This is all your fault, you miserable Chel."

  Arnisant intercepted him, clamping his jaws around one wrist and bearing the Ustalav to the ground.

  Everything was falling apart.

  "Radovan!" I cried, knowing even as I said his name that it was useless. I saw him nowhere on the hill. In freeing his devils, the demon must have obliterated him. Rolling all my anger into a single point of fury, I turned back to the erstwhile god of blood. "Yavalliska!"

  She blinked open her eyes just in time to receive a fireball to the face. The flames barely singed her glassy hair, but by the time she cupped her palms and pointed them toward me, I had impaled her with lightning.

  She shrugged it off, although she could not hide the burns left upon her glistening body. "Oh, how you will suffer as you learn to adore me."

  Black flames flickered in her palms. She raised them above her head and lowered them in my direction. Yet as she did so, her eyes widened in surprise.

  From behind us came a sound of thunder and a cool wind that smelled of smoke and pine needles.

  At first sight, it appeared a mist rose all across the western half of the spiral hill. Then I made out the shapes of hundreds of unicorns charging toward us. Those who poured up through the path we had carved were obviously tangible beings, their bodies steaming in the cool summer night. At their head ran Bastiel between Alunelsheas and Caedaynenlo.

  Through the brambles on either side charged the ghosts of unicorns slain by demons over a century's depredations. I ached to look upon their sorrowful eyes, but when they tossed their manes and lowered their heads, I saw not misery but yearning.

  A yearning for revenge.

  As the unicorns crested the hill, the succubi screamed in chorus.

  "Bastiel!" cried Oparal.

  The unicorn charged past her without a glance, racing with his fellows toward the succubi.

  A few of the demons retained the wherewithal to lock their eyes upon a unicorn and speak soothing words, but none of them finished articulating a temptation before a storm of hooves trampled them to the ground.

  Yavalliska shrieked, raising one foot like a housemaid flinching from a rat. After a nonplussed instant, she composed herself and turned once more toward us.

  "Help them," Alase cried to Tonbarse.

  The eidolon said, "Let me at the mother."

  The god caller's blue eyes lit up. The sigil blazed upon her forehead, Tonbarse's responding. Her lips widened in a determined grin. "Go!"

  "Arnisant, kill!" I pointed at Yavalliska. Arnisant became a pewter blur.

  The Codex and Lexicon trembling in my arms, I followed the command with another blast of frost. It was enough to shake Yavalliska, if not put her down.

  As the succubi fell to the horns and hooves of the unicorns, the stricken crusaders and sellswords came to their senses.

  "Forgive me, Sergeant," said Urno, backing away from the injured Aprian.

  "Kill that succubus," he said. "And all's forgiven."

  "Aye, Sergeant!"

  Aprian and Oparal led the charge together. Their crusader swords struck hard but left barely more evidence of their passing than a careless ring upon a crystal goblet.

  Urno leaped to the attack, bringing the full weight of his body down behind his axe. His blow cracked Yavalliska's glassy skin.

  Behind them all, the unicorns wheeled around. A few mangled succubi struggled to rise, but they were no longer a present threat. The ghosts among the herd stood still, fading from view even as their descendants moved from a trot to a full gallop. Bastiel had fallen back, but the twins led the unicorns straight toward Yavalliska.

  Her hands moved in a strange yet familiar pattern. I recognized it at once, but it was a summoning I had never dared cast myself. Nonetheless, I raised my hands, pausing only briefly to remember Jelani's admonition: I let my fingers improvise the somatic diagram I remembered. As though guided by unheard music, the gestures felt not so much correct as true.

  "Ahh!" Yavalliska thrashed her hands, frustrated at the failure of her conjuration. Her eyes fell upon me. She saw by my gestures that I had countered her spell. She tried another, this time directed at me.

  The unicorns reached her first. Alunelsheas and Caedaynenlo were the first to dip their horns and crack her crystalline skin. At last, crimson ichor oozed from the wounds, but not nearly enough.

  The image of cracked glass gave me an idea. Again I blasted her with pure cold, this time focusing my spell upon her legs. As I had hoped, the succubus winced in pain.

  Bastiel ran up behind her. A rider leaped from the unicorn's back, falling upon the succubus's shoulders as Bastiel crashed into Yavalliska from behind.

  It was Radovan, naked as a newborn.

  He hooked an elbow around the succubus's neck and drove a fist into her face. The blow barely cracked her nose. She grasped him by the hair and pulled him off, throwing him down as easily as a fishwife might fling away a housecat.

  Thinking of all the times I had cast spells to enhance his strength or swiftness, I did the same for myself, only this time by feeling rather than thought. As I did so, the Codex and Lexicon responded. I felt their energies adding their strength to the source that lay within me—that had always lain within me, neglected by my lifelong pursuit of the wrong arcane calling.

  As I bolstered myself and then my blade, the others threw themselves at Yavalliska. She battered them away with hand or wing. Once she turned a black-flamed palm toward Barek. It was no spell I knew how to counter, so I watched in horror with the others as the dark energy sheared away the top of the Kellid's head.

  With a last spell to consummate its flight, I flung the Shadowless Sword. Perhaps because of the magic speeding my own limbs, time seemed to slow to a crawl as it turned end over end.

  As the blade's point pierced her heart, Yavalliska opened her mouth to scream. Blood-red energy shot out, boiling with black motes and bubbles. The force of the stream jerked her head around to face south, where the fleeing light arced down to return from whence it came, into the mouth of the Worldwound.

  "Get away from her!" shouted Jelani.

  All obeyed with varying degrees of speed—all except Urno, who continued smashing at the succubus's knee with his axe.

  "Get out of there!" yelled Radovan. He grabbed the dwarf by the collar and pulled him away. After a brief exchange of snarls and a surprised glance down at Radovan's exposed nether region, the dwarf nodded curtly and ran by his side.

  Yavalliska's glassy skin darkened and cracked, soon resembling the crust of a burned sheet of sugar candy. Dark ichor oozed out between the cracks to solidify in tumorous clumps. We threw ourselves to the ground at the first deafening crack. An insta
nt later, molten globs of bloody effluvium fell down upon us.

  Naia screamed as one fell upon her shoulder. Oparal grabbed her, tearing away her pauldron and using the unburned edge of the metal to scrape away the rest.

  I stood and saw the Shadowless Sword standing up from a large chunk of Yavalliska's chest. Extending my hand, I called the weapon back to me, but it did not budge. I tried again, shaking my hand impatiently.

  "What spell is that?" asked Jelani.

  "No spell at all, but a wizard's trick."

  "Ah," she said.

  "What do you mean by ‘ah'?"

  Her smile was half mischief, half triumph. I knew what she meant. She meant that she had told me I was not a wizard, and now I knew that she was right.

  "Master," called a squeaky voice behind me.

  A pair of hunchbacked, rat-faced demons scurried forward to prostrate themselves before me. Their beady eyes shifted from the sight of the books in my arms to my face.

  I raised a hand and spoke a few arcane words. One of the demons fell lifeless to the ground, while the other scampered away, squealing in fear until Arnisant caught it by the neck, shook his mighty head, and ended its abominable life.

  Aprian led a triage for our wounded while Selka and Urno led the rest in dispatching the injured demons.

  Looking up at Greengrave Keep, I glimpsed a pair of vulture demons watching us with wary eyes. An empty nest stood between their perches.

  "They might fear us for a short while," said Oparal. "But I don't know when their master will return."

  "Let us make haste," I said. "Where's Radovan?"

  She shrugged.

  I gave her a tired smile. "Fetching some trousers, let's hope."

  She let out the barest laugh at that, but she almost choked as she looked past me. Turning, I saw Bastiel standing beside Alunelsheas. Nearby, Caedaynenlo bowed his head and turned to lead the rest of the unicorns toward the west.

  Bastiel stared at Oparal. Then he nuzzled Alunelsheas.

  Oparal's eyes glistened. Several times she tried to speak. I put a hand upon her arm and said, "Shall I leave you to say farewell?"