Son of Khyber_ Thorn of Breland - Keith Baker [82]
Thorn wanted to help the dark elf, but she knew the angel was the greater threat. She flung Steel at Vorlintar’s back, and the angel hissed as the blade struck home. Then she saw something that made her heart sink. The wound she’d made in the angel’s neck had vanished, as if he’d never been injured.
This revelation brought new waves of despair. Even Daine seemed to feel it. He had reached the angel and his blade was held high, yet he did not strike. Thorn could only assume that he was struggling with his own doubts. She tried to think, to come up with a solution, but all that she could think about were the people she had failed. Lharen. Mayne. Her mother.
Then a new hope appeared. Brom slowly rose to his feet, unsteady yet strong. Thorn smiled—
And then Brom swung his huge fist at Daine.
No! Xu’sasar couldn’t last long on her own. Daine was struggling with Brom. Drego’s silver flame was growing dim, slowly being consumed by Vorlintar’s shadows. And Thorn couldn’t hurt the angel with Steel.
So she’d have to find another way.
Dropping Steel, Thorn charged Vorlintar. His wings buffeted her, but inhuman strength flowed through her. She slammed into the angel and wrapped her arms around his chest.
Now, she thought. She tried to remember the sensation of killing the Sentinel Marshal, of draining the life from the man in the tunnel. But nothing happened. Whatever the nature of the power, it wouldn’t answer her call. And now strength was fading. The angel was thrashing, his chains flailing against her skin, and she couldn’t hold on for long.
No. She could. Thorn had never been one for grandiose dreams. All she wanted was to serve her country, to know that her father would be proud of her. And that was enough. She was fighting for Breland and the memory of the best man she’d ever known, and she had no intention of failing either one. There was always a way. There was always hope.
The angel screamed again.
Hope. That was her weapon. Vorlintar consumed hope, and he could not claim hers. He struggled, howling, but Thorn locked her hands together and refused to let go. He would fall. They would find a way. She was sure of it.
The shadows the angel had summoned vanished, and Drego’s flames washed over him. For a moment Thorn thought she would be burned, but she felt only the slightest tingle against her skin. Not so Vorlintar. The angel’s thrashing grew weaker. The weight of his chains pulled him to the ground.
Daine moved forward and placed his hand against the angel’s forehead. His dragonmark burst into light, and the lines of it flowed off of his skin and wrapped around the head of the Keeper of Hopes. The angel’s cries suddenly silenced, and he stiffened in Thorn’s arms. As she held him, his body began to fade beneath her hands, as if he were turning into mist. There was a jangling sound as one of his chains fell to the floor. Another followed, and another, and then there was a crash as dozens fell at once. Thorn’s arms closed on empty air. Daine held a ball of writhing shadows in his hand, bound in the brilliant lines of his mark. He took a deep breath and closed his palm, crushing the sphere. He gasped as inky blackness spread from his hand along his mark, flowing up his arm.
“Thorn, get back!” Drego cried. “Stay away from him!”
Daine’s face was a mask of pain. The shadows spread to his face, moving across his eye. He dropped to one knee, his fist still clenched, every muscle bulging.
Thorn snatched Steel off of the floor. “What can we do?”
“Just stay back!” Drego yelled.
He’s right, Steel whispered. I don’t know what this is, but there’s immense power at work. You need to stay clear of it.
It seemed that the shadow-touched mark was fighting to pull free of Daine’s body. Inky tendrils rose from his skin, lashing