Colin Tabor - The Fall of Ossard

A silence followed, it broken by Lady Death, “An eye for an eye.”

I reached up and split my molten cobblestone, hurling a gob of the white-hot stuff after her. It hit the cobbles to spray flaring lumps and a galaxy of sparks. Robed figures spun away, giving us a moment to gather ourselves, yet still the lane wasn’t safe – it was time to move into the opera house.

Sef turned to the big warrior next to him. “Cherub, force the door.”

He then looked to me with a wry smile. “Thank you, Juvela.”

I grinned as I marvelled at my flaring light. Finally, I’d cast something, and been able to help by gaining us some time. But my pride was short-lived.

Lady Death hissed, “Curse you!”

And I thought they were just words…

Sef’s face lost its colour as fear filled his eyes.

But my perception had already taken flight.

And in the celestial, Mortigi came to put his mark on me, him incomprehensible and immense. His attention shot through me like cold shards of ice, hurled by a gusting gale built of nothing but sleet and death. Pain stabbed and slashed, and at the same time his anger burned into me, all of it leaving me squirming under its volcanic heat. His hate torched my soul, working to extinguish my life’s light, yet somehow, through some miracle, I managed to last through it and survive.

I found myself slumped on the ground.

Someone began lifting me, holding me under the arms and pulling me into the opera house. I wanted it to stop, to get back on my feet, until I realised I couldn’t move.

I watched one of my hands, the knuckles being rubbed raw as it was dragged over timber boards. Somehow it still gripped the blazing stone. All the while, lost in shock, I drooled and dumbly hummed. It took a long time for my sluggish mind to recognise what; it was Schoperde’s song, a song of sorrow, but also hope.

Sef looked for somewhere to put me amidst the cobwebbed clutter of the opera house, it all lit by the blinding light flaring from my hand. In the end he settled on the first thing he saw that would hold me, a stage prop; an old and dusty divan.

He talked fast and looked worried as tears ran from his eyes. I couldn’t understand him, my mind running slow and haltingly. Still, the confusion eventually drained away to be replaced by a rising tide of excitement.

We were inside!

Kavists rushed past us to spread throughout the darkened building. This was it, the rescue of my family – and I lay prone!

Damn myself, this would never do!

It took a good deal of effort, but I found I could use the energy boiling within me to reawaken my stymied mind. I had to force it, and it hurt to work at, but I persevered as things improved.

That done, I set to work on my stuck muscles, as I tried to recover my mobility. I found I could ease the pain by losing myself in thoughts of Maria and Pedro and their proximity. Amongst those hopes, I could have endured anything.

Recovering movement happened quickly once I understood how to manipulate the magic, but it left my muscles heavy and stiff. Unsteadily I sat up, and then tried to get to my feet.

Sef panicked at my awkward attempt to rise, until I slurred, “I’ll be alright.” I swallowed and then added, “Please, see to the search, or we’ll be here all night.”

He stared at me in awe, so much so that I had to turn away. After recovering himself, he glanced at the shattered door and said, “Watch it, they might try and come in.”

I stretched my arm, the one that still held what remained of the flaring stone, and hurled it at the opening. It sprayed across the cobbles outside as it broke up to blaze with fresh fury. “No they won’t.”

He smiled in disbelief as his tears continued to run. “Be careful in any case, if they want to get in they’ll find a way. We won’t be able to stop them.”

I nodded. “Please, worry about Pedro and Maria.”

He turned to follow the others, but kept gazing back.

It was dim and quiet, with far too much of the space about me lost to shadow. A string of glowing orange-rimmed holes smouldered along the floorboards, they’d been born from where I’d dripped molten rock as I’d been dragged inside. None of it had caught to come aflame – and in that we’d been lucky.

One of the Kavists had lit a lantern he’d found, but here on the backstage, amidst countless rows of props and backdrops, anything could hide. Simply, we needed more light.

I took a deep breath and tried to grapple with some of the power still churning away within me. This time I had no rock, instead I grabbed a handful of coins from a prop treasure chest – they were wooden.

I closed my hands over them and prepared to make them glow, but not in the way I’d unconsciously ignited the stone. I released some of my power amidst thoughts of the moon’s silver-blue light. My hands tingled and the air cooled: It was done, whatever it was.

I hesitated in revealing it, so much so that I whispered a quick prayer to Schoperde before opening my cupped hands. And there the coins were, shining, but without the heat and glare of the cobblestone.

It was good.

I grabbed more and charged them, yet after a while my head began to ache. It left me wondering at my limits.

Limits…

To my mind, I’d still done nothing worthy of being burnt at the stake for. I needed to try harder things, yet now was no time for experiments.

I scattered the coins around the backstage and passed on handfuls to the Kavists so they could better light their own way.

It wasn’t long before we’d covered the backstage, the main stage, and the dressing rooms. Still, even with the light of the coins and an increasing number of lanterns, far too many shadows remained.

I followed Sef through the curtains and onto the stage. The light we had with us barely reached the first few rows of benches. I charged another handful of coins and threw them out into the dark. I sighed and said, “We’d need fifty men to search this place.”

Sef answered, “Yes, and more to defend it. It’s too big. We’ll get straight to the cellar and then out.”

We both stood there looking at row after row of seating and the shadows that waited beyond.

He said, “You could hide a hundred people out there, and that’s without any kind of magic.”

As if in answer, the roof beams above creaked. Was it just the movement of the building, perhaps the wind, or someone up there hiding amongst the rigging? Could Mortigi’s followers have found a way in, and even now be creeping about searching for fresh kills? Aside from the faint outlines of rafters and dangling ropes, the detail of the heights remained a mystery. Sef was right; we had to concentrate on getting to the cellar, and then out.

He said, “Don’t worry, if they’re here we’ll find them.”

His presence was reassuring, as it always had been.

He called out for two Kavists to watch the theatre hall as we returned to the backstage.

Cherub came looking for us moments later. The big man said, “Found it, it’s back here!” And he pointed down a coin-lit passage.

My heart raced, something only doubled when Sef smiled and patted me on the shoulder. He gathered five Kavists and set the rest on watches.

Cherub led us down the dusty and worn corridor made narrower by racks of covered costumes on one side. Half way along we came to a door that had a sign above it. I couldn’t read, but guessed it said cellar as Sef and Cherub both swapped knowing glances.

I whispered, “Did you go in?”

His voice rumbled, “It’s locked, so I thought I’d get some help.”

Sef nodded. “Alright, let’s get ready. Juvela, stand back and let them through.”

Reluctantly I stepped back.