The Ashes of Worlds - Kevin J. Anderson [222]
A priority message came over the shuttle’s comm system, using overrides that only a handful of people knew. Deputy Cain. Basil gritted his teeth . . . another traitor.
Cain’s pale face was bland, showing no emotion. “Mr. Chairman, I am glad to learn you’re safe and alive — and very pleased to see the Klikiss swarmships withdraw. Thank you for your efforts.”
“You’ve got a lot to answer for, Cain. Why are you calling me?”
The deputy smiled faintly. “King Peter requests your presence at the Whisper Palace to ensure an orderly transition of power. Please come as soon as possible.”
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154
Mage-Imperator Jora’h
Parting the flame curtains, Rusa’h emerged from his fireball to face them. His flesh was molten, his hair twisted like thick smoke, his eyes novas in his face. The faeros incarnate looked both furious and pleased to be standing before Jora’h. “At last I can save our entire race.”
The Mage-Imperator merely stared at his brother. “You will do no more damage to the Ildiran people.”
Rusa’h looked almost saddened, paternal. “You weakened the thism and nearly destroyed our Empire. I will take the strongest Ildirans to the Lightsource and save them with my faeros alliance.”
Jora’h managed to take a step forward. “Save them?” Although the heat in the air was incredible, he could feel the half-breed children blocking much of it. “Whole refugee camps incinerated by the faeros? Ships full of Ildirans trying to evacuate blown out of the skies? Countless kithmen turned to ash when the faeros took over Mijistra? I see how you tried to ‘save them.’ Those were your people, Rusa’h. You were supposed to protect them.” Jora’h jabbed an accusing finger at him. “Now they are all dead.”
Though the burning man maintained his shape and size, Jora’h saw little of his soft and placid brother there, nothing of the person who had once reveled in his celebrations and pleasure mates on Hyrillka. Now transformed into an avatar of the fiery elementals, this man wanted only to burn. “No . . . I did this for them!”
In the sky above, fireballs came closer, ready to incinerate the Mage-Imperator and absorb his soulfire.
“The faeros have corrupted you, Rusa’h.”
Osira’h reached out to take her father’s hand. He felt her electric touch, armored with an invisible strength that she drew from her unique connection to Ildiran thism.
Nira held on to her treeling, hunched over to protect it from the searing heat that penetrated the faltering mental shield. With her other hand, Osira’h grasped her mother’s arm, connected through her, through the tree-ling. Suddenly the worldforest network was also drawn into this surge, the verdani mind and powers.
To strengthen themselves, the children joined themselves to their mother’s telink, just as the green priest Kolker had found a way to bind the worldforest network. They also found and touched the wentals, focused through the treelings that were enclosed in the living bubbles of water, further increasing their shield. Now Yazra’h and Prime Designate Daro’h united with Osira’h, her four siblings, Nira, and Jora’h in their connected circle. The Mage-Imperator felt a considerable strengthening of the protective barriers.
Designate Ridek’h also joined the group, strong and unafraid. The boy shouted against the crackling roar of fire, facing his nemesis again, “We will stand against the faeros and against you, Rusa’h. I am the Hyrillka Designate.”
“And I am the true Mage-Imperator.” Jora’h loomed larger as he faced off against the faeros incarnate. “The Ildiran people are mine to save — from you.”
“You are wrong, brother.” Responding to the faeros incarnate’s command, hundreds of surviving faeros came down in a sea of suns, as if all the stars in the sky had exploded at once. Under that thermal assault, despite the mental barricades and the safety net of strengthened thism, even with all the exotic allies that had come to fight at Ildira, the Mage-Imperator felt himself burning.
“I will not surrender to you!” When Jora’h’s eyes watered, the tears flashed into steam. The flames seemed