James Davis - Circle of Skulls

A glimmer of shining steel protruded from the construct's ribs, just beneath its right arm. Jinn focused on the metal splinter and forced himself to stand. He winced as the right side of his body pulsed painfully as if it were made of a single bruise. He pushed the sensation to the back of his mind. He took up a length of fallen chain, a chunk of broken rafter dangling from its end as he charged at the eidolon's back. Mara slipped away into shadow as he passed, cold fragments of darkness clinging to his cheeks as he hurled the chain at the statue's head.

He missed and rolled beneath the swiping fist of stone that quickly followed. Muttering a curse as splinters dug into his side, he caught a brief glimpse of Quessahn in front of the eidolon, tendrils of darkness spewing from her palms. The spell briefly dimmed the molten energy of the construct, causing it to shriek, a sound like hail striking a tin roof, but the magic could not hold. The fist that had sought to smash Jinn reversed its course and struck the eladrin solidly. Jinn gasped as Quessahn's body flew through the air and crashed against the wall like a corn-husk doll.

The sickening thump of her body on the floor ripped through his gut, the sight of her senseless and bleeding awakening something within him. An image of her flashed through his mind, her smiling face looking up at him, a sea of waving green behind her. Her lips moved in the image, but he could not hear her words over his racing pulse, thrumming through his ears as he stood. Pangs of guilt and loss joined his bloodlust, though both gave way to a rage that burned from the depths of his pounding heart. Swinging the chain once around his fist, he dashed forward as the eidolon turned to present its curving horns. He hurled the chain again, wrapping it neatly around the statue's neck.

It whipped its upper body backward, roaring a sound almost like laughter as Jinn was pulled into the air, swinging at the chain's end. Black claws reached for him, but he swung his legs forward, pulling tightly on the chain as the room spun around him. The burning eyes followed him, hellish energy and caustic blood seeping from them as he turned through the air, whipping tight as the chain caught on the statue's left shoulder. The bright edge of his stolen blade glowed in the eidolon's side, the sword stuck, a thrust away from the statue's immortal energy.

The essence of a god, he thought. A shard of divinity.

Arms burning with the strain, he pulled the chain taut again and raised his legs, whispering a prayer as the hilt of his lodged sword came into sight. With a single thrust, he kicked the blade deep, sparks flying as the steel stabbed home into the fiery heart of the eidolon, shattering the god-forged splinter that had given the statue life. Power surged from the wound, washing violently through Jinn's body as the construct shuddered, purple mist steaming through the cracks and symbols across its stony skin.

The chain slipped from Jinn's fist, and he fell away, sliding across the marble floor as the burst of divine power wracked his flesh with pain. The eidolon's body quaked, falling apart in lifeless chunks through the chamber bathed in hellish light. Jinn gasped, a brief moment of pure clarity overcoming him. All the threads of his many lives were joined, fusing together like a winding road of long years, at their end the blazing light of the Astral Sea. The path of his soul from flesh to flesh, bound in blood for millennia, burned through his thoughts, every memory as fresh as when it was first crafted, the darkness of every death just as haunting.

He saw meaning and destiny in the whole of the pattern, his eyes torn away from the minute details of the individual lives he'd lived, and an unsettling calm overcame him. Somewhere in the long and winding maze of his soul, his fate had been written, and he was loath to look upon its conclusion…

In a heartbeat the vision was gone, leaving him trembling and struggling to breathe, his skull aching as the memories faded, and he felt empty and drained. He coughed and groaned, eyes burning as they adjusted to the dim light of the chamber.

Straining to right himself, he squinted through the dust and found Quessahn's hand nearby, her eyes closed and veiled in blood.

NIGHTAL 22, THE YEAR OF DEEP WATER DRIFTING (1480 DR)

"Quess."

Jinn whispered her name, gently cradling her neck and stemming the flow of blood from a cut on her forehead. Her skin was soft in his hands, pale and familiar like a recurring dream. The sight of one limp hand sliding to the floor nauseated him, the smell of her blood stinging in his nose like the scent of a fresh nightmare. He leaned close, her breath on his cheek and her pulse beneath his fingertips calming him as Mara stepped out of her clinging shadows, baring her fangs at the pile of smoking stone nearby.

"Is she dead?" Mara asked as she carefully inspected the book she'd taken from downstairs, gently turning the pages as if they would fall apart at any touch.

"No," Jinn answered. "But she'll need some time to-"

"Time we don't have," Mara cut in sharply, her crimson eyes scanning page after page in quick succession. "This spell Tallus was working on puts us all in danger, one dead eladrin is a small price to pay if need be-"

"She is alive," Jinn insisted. "We're not leaving her."

"This isn't like you, Jinn," Mara replied, closing the book slowly. "You'd risk all the work we've done for one woman?"

"All the work I've done started with one woman," he answered quietly, brushing Quessahn's cheek as she stirred, though he imagined for a moment that it was a different face he looked upon, silver-eyed and cursed with immortality like himself. He'd abandoned her to fight the ancient war of his lost gods and he'd lost her, his Variel.

"Kehran?" Quessahn mumbled, coughing. "Is that you-?"

Her eyes fluttered open, squinting through the gloom until they found Jinn. At the sight of him, her face twisted slightly, a mixture of sorrow and disappointment that stabbed him far deeper than he'd expected.

"It's me, Quess, Jinnaoth," he answered. "Who is Kehran?"

"It's nothing… no one," she managed, rising on her elbows and wincing in pain. "Forget I said it. I'll be fine."

"The Loethe family is next," Mara said, her arms crossed as she stared at the deva, ignoring Quessahn. "We need to go to them. Now."

"She's right. Go," Quess said, wiping blood from her lip. "At the corner of Ivory Street and Gorl. Be quick…"

"Right," Jinn muttered, standing as the eladrin sat up, her left arm already darkening with early bruises. Looking from her to Mara, he turned on his heel and retrieved his blade from the steaming remains of the eidolon. "Stay here with Quessahn. I'll tend to the Loethes."

"I am riot a nursemaid," Mara growled. "And you have no idea what you're running into-"

"I understand," he said, fixing her with his golden stare. "Do your best. And find out what you can from that book. I expect we'll need to know exactly what we're up against, yes?"

Her red eyes flared bright, a fury boiling behind them that Jinn was glad to see, a fresh reminder that his ally could become his enemy after all was said and done. Given half a chance, with her vengeance against Asmodeus complete, she would sell Jinn's soul to the highest bidder without a flicker of regret; of that he was certain.

"I'll find out what I can," she replied coldly, "but only until the eladrin can walk. I'll not stand around any longer while you blunder into the unknown."

"Fair enough," Jinn replied and headed for the door, the winter wind driving flurries of snow into the tower as he left her staring daggers at his back. Pulling his cloak tightly, he jogged out of the closed circle of buildings and held back in the shadows for a breath. Seeing no Watch patrols or shambling figures of the ahimazzi, he dashed down the street, keeping his eyes fixed on the sky as if the low, gray clouds would sprout black wings were he to look away.