Tim Waggoner - Lady Ruin

But even as the portal rapidly closed, the daelkyr shoved his arm through, hand stretching toward Elidyr until the claw tip of the index finger gently touched the artificer’s forehead. And then, just as swiftly, the hand withdrew and the portal snapped shut and vanished.

Elidyr stood frozen for a long moment, staring up at the spot where only an instant before a doorway had been open upon the Realm of Madness.

“Of course,” he whispered. “It’s all so clear now.”

And he began to laugh.

Vaddon was furious with himself for giving into his brother yet again. Though he hadn’t admitted it to the others, he’d been just as upset that Bergerron had ordered the Outguard to cease operations and vacate the lodge. Not that he cared about proving the worth of using symbionts in warfare, but he hated leaving a job undone. So when Elidyr had told him they might have one last chance to salvage a victory, Vaddon had decided to gamble on his brother a final time. Unfortunately, it was rapidly becoming clear that this was one gamble Vaddon had lost.

The guards were dead, and the four others who’d volunteered to be subjects of the experiment were either wounded or, in one case, dead, and the symbionts that had possessed them were running loose in the chamber. Worse yet, there was some kind of distortion in the air above the Overmantle, and while Vaddon was no expert in magic, he’d witnessed enough to recognize that whatever was happening, it wasn’t good.

Vaddon turned toward Lirra and was about to inform her of his orders, when he saw the tentacle whip wrap around his daughter’s throat, then detach itself from Osten and latch on to her. Lirra screamed as the symbiont fused with her flesh, and Vaddon thought he hadn’t heard a sound so awful since the dying scream of his wife when she fell at Jaythen’s Pass.

Osten slumped to the floor, unconscious. Lirra still held her sword in her right hand, and she raised the blade, clearly intending to bring it slashing down upon the tentacle whip, but the instant she began to swing the sword, the muscles in her arm locked, freezing the blade in place. The aberration was exerting control over Lirra’s body in order to protect itself, and though his daughter fought valiantly, Vaddon knew with every passing second the tentacle whip was solidifying its hold on her. If there was any chance to get the damned thing off her, it was now.

Vaddon moved forward, sword gripped tight, his soldier’s mind-honed from years of training and decades of battle experience-rapidly calculating the best way to attack. There were really only two choices: cut the symbiont off Lirra or kill it while it remained attached to her. Neither was without risk for Lirra. Given that she was now physically and mentally joined with the tentacle whip, she would feel the aberration’s pain as if it was her own, and she’d suffer the same shock to her system as it did. But Vaddon knew his daughter’s strength. She could withstand whatever he did to her-assuming he could find the strength to do what needed to be done.

The contest of wills between Lirra and the tentacle whip continued, sweat running down the sides of Lirra’s face as she fought to regain control of her sword arm, the tentacle whip lazily, almost mockingly, undulating in the air as it continued to prevent her. Vaddon knew he had no chance of making a stealthy approach-the enchanted armor prevented him from moving silently-but he hoped that the contest of wills Lirra and the symbiont were locked into would occupy them both long enough to give him the opportunity of getting in close.

Vaddon continued toward Lirra, armored feet clanking on the chamber’s stone floor. But when he was within three yards of her, the tentacle whip’s barbed tip suddenly swung in Vaddon’s direction, almost as if the aberration could sense the soldier, and it lashed out at him. Vaddon instinctively dodged to the right, and if he hadn’t been wearing armor, he might’ve been able to move swiftly enough to avoid the tentacle whip’s strike. As it was, the symbiont’s barbed tip grazed his left cheek, and Vaddon hissed in pain. The wound itself was minor, but that wasn’t what concerned Vaddon. The big question was how much venom did the barb manage to inject into his body during its glancing blow? The general received his answer a split second later when a fiery sensation began spreading through his cheek, along his jawline, and down into his neck. A wave of weakness passed through him, and his sword slipped from his gauntleted hand as he fell to one knee. He felt the venom’s fiery touch move swiftly down into his left arm, and vertigo struck him, nearly causing him to collapse. But Vaddon hadn’t survived hundreds of battles by giving up easily, and he fought to keep his head clear. His daughter still needed him, and he’d be damned to every hell that had ever existed before he failed her.

Though it took every ounce of willpower he possessed and then some, Vaddon picked up his sword, hauled his body to a standing position, and started toward Lirra once more, doing his best to ignore the poison fire spreading throughout his body.

Lirra felt pressure in her head as if there was something inside-something big -trying to claw its way deeper into her brain. Accompanying the pressure came the whispering of a sly, sinister voice that sounded too much like her own, though she knew it wasn’t. With each word the thought-voice spoke, the pressure inside her head mounted.

Submit … give yourself over to me … let us be One …

She tried to ignore the voice as she concentrated on moving her sword arm so she could cut herself free of the damned tentacle whip. But no matter how hard she fought against the symbiont’s influence, she could not make her arm budge even a fraction of an inch more toward the creature. Its will to survive was simply too strong. As soon as the thought passed through her mind, she felt an answering surge of elation that she knew didn’t originate in her own heart. It was the whip, excited that it had managed to dominate her to such an extent, and eager to assert its control over her further.

You might be able to prevent me from harming you , Lirra thought, but that doesn’t mean you own me .

The thought-voice whispered in her mind. We’ll see about that .

Lirra was about to redouble her efforts to cut the symbiont off of her when she caught a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned to see her father coming toward her, expression grim, sword held tight. She understood instantly that he thought he was coming to her rescue, and while she loved him for it, she inwardly cursed him too. The whip was too wild, too dangerous, and she couldn’t-

She watched helplessly as the tentacle whip lashed out, its barbed tip grazing Vaddon’s cheek. The wound swelled red as the symbiont’s poison went to work, and her father staggered and fell to one knee. She sensed the whip’s elation at having brought down an enemy, and she knew it intended to strike again, this time to deliver a full dose of poison, killing Vaddon.

NO! she shouted in her mind, and the tentacle whip froze, poised for a second strike but unable to complete it. The terrible pressure assaulting her mind eased slightly, and Lirra managed a smile. Now who owns whom? she thought. She felt the whip’s answering rage as if the emotion were her own, so intense that it almost knocked her off her feet, but she rode it out and the feeling subsided to the point where it became manageable. She wanted to go to her father’s aid, but she knew she couldn’t risk bringing the tentacle whip any closer to him. She might’ve been able to stop it from attacking once, but that didn’t mean she’d be able to do so a second time. Better to keep the symbiont away from everyone while she fought to get rid of it.