Lisa Shearin - All Spell Breaks Loose

I was afraid, too. Hell, I was terrified. But my fears weren’t for me, not anymore. Some things were worth dying for. Tam knew that. He had made that decision for himself, determined that an eternity of torment was worth destroying the Saghred to save those he loved, and his people, all of his people.

The Saghred wasn’t giving up. It weighed down my mind, sending my thoughts into a tailspin of torturous images.

My fear will not control me. My fear will not control me. The Saghred will not control me.

I had a power that the Saghred didn’t have and would never have. In its own way it was magic, magic that the Saghred could never bury or bind or take away from me.

Love.

Tam was risking his soul for it. Mychael had fought for me all these months and was now by my side protecting me. Chigaru’s love for Mirabai and his people inspired him to challenge the evil of Sarad Nukpana.

One rock wasn’t going to take that away from any of us.

I got a death grip on the Scythe.

For an instant, I could see through the Reapers. The dark energy swirling around Sarad Nukpana shifted as he saw me poised with the Scythe. All of his attention, the entire focus of his vast power, was caught up in controlling his monstrous creation.

Nukpana’s mad eyes widened in desperation as he screamed to the Saghred, “Take her!”

I drove the Scythe of Nen into the Saghred up to the hilt.

Shrieks, screams, agonized wailing, whether from me or the Saghred or its captive souls, I didn’t know and was beyond caring. It was as if I’d plunged the Scythe into my own guts. My breath froze, my heart fluttering in shock and panic, fluttering, then slowing, stopping. My fingers weakened on the Scythe’s grip, the cold metal sliding away. Suddenly another hand covered mine, warm and strong, keeping my fingers tight around the dagger, sharing his strength, his determination.

“Hang on, girl. We’re almost there.”

Kesyn Badru.

I managed to raise my head. I could no longer see through the spirits swirling around me and Kesyn. I looked up. The Saghred’s souls were escaping, the Reapers guiding them up into the vortex and on to whatever came after.

When the souls finally stopped coming out of the stone, I glanced down. The Saghred was smooth and as opaque as fine alabaster. I could see the blade of the Scythe of Nen inside, its grip protruding from between my trembling fingers. There were no more souls inside. My breath came in ragged gasps. The stone wasn’t the only one that had been drained. I pulled the blade out, immediately reversing the grip and bringing both the pommel and my free fist down on the Saghred, shattering it into glittering dust.

Sarad Nukpana’s scream turned to a howl of rage and disbelief, of ambitions dashed, plans in ruins. He’d seen the Saghred destroyed. He staggered back and nearly fell, maybe from witnessing the obliteration of his future, but his focus on his monster had wavered and broken; the backlash from the botched link drove him to his knees. The creature began folding in on itself as if deflating, emitting a keening cry as the magic that made it vanished.

Tam’s demon ignored the monster completely, his gleaming red eyes hungrily locked on Sarad Nukpana. The goblin recovered quickly, but the demon was faster. With a bellow of triumph, he charged toward the steps and Nukpana, his hooves striking sparks from the floor, each strike like a clap of thunder. The goblin shielded himself and defiantly stood his ground, snarling a guttural spell that rocked the stone beneath our feet, throwing us to the floor.

The demon kept coming; his gleaming black horns gored Sarad Nukpana’s shields and contemptuously tossed them aside like a bullfighter’s cloak. The demon grabbed Nukpana, and still the goblin fought, his magic flaying the demon in uncontrolled rage and dawning terror. The seared streaks in the demon’s flesh healed instantly, and a sound escaped his throat that sounded almost like laughter.

The demon turned and inclined his massive head to Tam.

Tam bowed in return.

The darkness next to the dais rippled and opened revealing a dim oval of reddish light. The stench of sulfur-scented hot air flowed out of the passage that the demon had opened.

The demon charged toward the Hellgate with his prize, as our ears rang with Sarad Nukpana’s screams.

All of the magic Sarad Nukpana had murdered to have for his own, the power he had hoarded for his moment of triumph, had been his undoing, twisted into his ultimate weakness.

Kesyn Badru had been right.

But right now, standing outside the Khrynsani temple, Tam had some explaining to do to his old teacher and a livid Imala Kalis. Yes, Tam had summoned a demon, but before he’d released it, there’d been some fast talking and even faster deal making on Tam’s part. With his obscene level of power, Sarad Nukpana had turned himself into a veritable demonic feast. Tam told the demon that he’d release him, but only if he gave his word that he’d only take Sarad Nukpana. Tam’s soul wasn’t part of the deal or even on the table.

Demons were, well… demons, but if you managed to get one to give you its word, it was good. However, you had to be careful not to give them a loophole in that verbal contract to pick up a couple of extra treats while they were here. Tam gave the demon a look at the buffet, then made him promise not to get greedy.

It had worked.

Being the right-hand mage and counselor of the goblin queen for five years had taught Tam how to close loopholes like little nooses.

Tam had gambled on the strength and appeal of Sarad Nukpana’s power, betting that the demon would want Nukpana worse than the demon would want him. I wondered if the demon felt cheated. Probably. If he did, Tam would have to watch his back from now on. That thing would want payback of the eternal kind. Then again, didn’t we all have to watch our backs against someone—or something? The more power you had just meant there were bigger and meaner things stalking you.

Tam was explaining all this to Kesyn and Imala. Or trying to. It wasn’t that Imala didn’t understand it; she understood only too well. She was infuriated that Tam had dangled himself like an hors d’oeuvre to lure a demon to a Sarad Nukpana feast.

“Because if I had told you,” Tam was saying, “the demon would have known, and I’d have been a greasy spot on the floor. Calling a demon, then putting conditions on their release, really pisses them off.”

Imala’s dark eyes glared daggers at Tam. “And you risked yourself on the chance that thing would want Sarad more than you.”

“I only have one soul in me,” Tam said. “Sarad had six ancient sorcerers, Rudra Muralin, and some Saghred mojo. Me? Just one soul, and in comparison, miniscule power. Scrawny power versus fat and juicy with evil. It was no contest.”

Imala was quivering with fury. “What would have stopped him from taking both of you?”

Tam was confused and well on his way to annoyed. “We. Had. A deal.” This was the third time he’d had to repeat that particular fact, and couldn’t understand why Imala wasn’t getting it.

“And if he’d failed to catch Sarad?” Imala asked.

Tam shrugged. “Then I probably would have ended up as the consolation prize.”

Imala flung her hands up in exasperation. “Precisely!”

“But it worked. I’m still here.”

Imala’s fists were clenched, she was virtually shaking with rage, and her restraint was about to take off for hell in a handbasket. Should she use her fists to beat some sense into Tam, or should she—

Imala unclenched her fists, grabbed Tam’s head in both hands, pulled him down, and kissed him. Hard.