[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
after the ka kari. To learn that fact is the
whole reason I told him my story, most of it
true. I figured Gwinvere had to be in the So-
ciety of the Second Sun or she never would
have found me in the first place, but I didn t
know and I needed to know if she d try to
kill me for the ka kari. Immortality is a
tempting prize.
103/153
That s really noble, I say. Murdering
someone to save your sister, I mean.
I just listened to your story. You re the
last man in the world who ought to preach to
me.
~He does have a point there.~
Yvor stands and squeezes the red ka kari
in his hand. It covers his body with a slick
red sheen. It burns away his clothing. He ll
have to work on that.
Fight me, he says. I don t know how to
get the ka kari if you die while it s still inside
your body.
I stand, wobble. Kids these days. You
poisoned the ale, I say. You poisoned the
ale?
Ironic, huh?
I fucking hate irony.
He throws a fireball at me.
I bring up the black ka kari in a shield.
With a whoosh, it devours the fireball.
That s not the Globe of Edges, he says.
104/153
And I m not Eric Daadrul. With a little
sleight of hand, as if they re coming out of
my skin, I produce five little metemptingic
balls: blue, green, silver, white, gold. They
roll uncertainly around the tabletop.
You have all of the ka kari? he asks, terri-
fied, but greedy too, not yet understanding.
Counterfeits, I say. For just such occa-
sions as this. I roll out my fake of the red
ka kari last.
Fear in his eyes, despite the suit of fire on
his skin. Confusion. The Society only knows
about six ka kari and what he s just seen
doesn t fit any of them.
You didn t lure me here to take my
ka kari, I tell him, sadly. I lured you here to
take yours.
A conflagration.
I m hurled through the back wall of my
safe house into the marsh surrounding it. I
knew fire might be a problem. That s why I
chose this place. No need to burn down the
105/153
whole Warrens not that they re much worth
saving. I land calf deep in marsh mud.
The black ka kari coats my body as Yvor
comes out of the burning doorway.
Fireballs burn smoking, hissing trenches
in the marsh. I dodge, flip, disappear.
He throws a fan of flames in a full circle.
A splash as I land behind him.
He whips around, throws jets of flame.
They curl around my torso, burning the
night on either side of me. What hits me is
mostly absorbed. The ka kari burns blue iri-
descence at every joint and curve of my body
as it devours the fire.
I ram two daggers deep into his chest.
The torrent of fire trails off, trickles down
to nothing. His ka kari drops into the mud,
leaving him naked, mostly held up by my
daggers. He looks me in the eyes and says, I
should have&
He dies.
106/153
I let him slide off the daggers, drop into
the muck. I pick up the red ka kari from
where it s hissing hot in the marsh mud.
There are no words. There is no light.
* * *
Nigh unto seven hundred years ago, there
was a great fire in Trayethell. A light so
bright it burned men to pillars of ash many
leagues away. That fire was Jorsin Alkestes:
mad man, savior, king. The war was lost long
before that last battle was fought. But fight
he did, teeth bared, laughing, incandescent.
A light so bright that the great men and wo-
men of an age flocked to him like moths to a
flame, and burned.
On the last day, Jorsin Alkestes, murderer
and friend, took Curoch and Iures in hand at
the same time. A lesser man would fear to
touch one. But he, magnificent he, he bent
the Blade of Power and the Staff of Law to
his will.
107/153
As krul, the twisted un-men, swarmed
over the last barricades and spilled through
the streets, slaughtering women armed with
little more than sticks and children throwing
rocks, one man fled who had never fled in his
life: Acaelus Thorne, unwanted treasure in
his hands, left the fight. Under orders. He
crept like a coward, outran the krul who
chased him, stood among the corpses and
filth and cowards at the mouth of the pass
into the Fasmeru Mountains, and looked
back. The krul were a black blankeheld tight
over the face of the burning city.
A light bloomed from the castle s highest
balcony. From a hundred points lightning
cracked down. Every flying narokghul
dropped from the sky, becoming a smoking,
bleeding rain. The bleak clouds rolled back
in an instant, as if shoved aside by giants
hands, and the light swelled ever brighter.
Acaelus staggered up to a group of deserters,
leaning against a granite wall at the mouth of
108/153
the pass, catching their breath, weaponless,
bloodied, their eyes dim, the eyes of the
shamed and broken. But now those eyes re-
flected one sharp light. Those who had
slumped now stood.
Titans rushed for the castle, smashing
through three-story stone houses, stone
shrapnel turned into dust motes dancing in
the light of a rising sun. The earth heaved
upward, just once, sweeping men and krul
and titans and a hundred other kinds of [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl exclamation.htw.pl
after the ka kari. To learn that fact is the
whole reason I told him my story, most of it
true. I figured Gwinvere had to be in the So-
ciety of the Second Sun or she never would
have found me in the first place, but I didn t
know and I needed to know if she d try to
kill me for the ka kari. Immortality is a
tempting prize.
103/153
That s really noble, I say. Murdering
someone to save your sister, I mean.
I just listened to your story. You re the
last man in the world who ought to preach to
me.
~He does have a point there.~
Yvor stands and squeezes the red ka kari
in his hand. It covers his body with a slick
red sheen. It burns away his clothing. He ll
have to work on that.
Fight me, he says. I don t know how to
get the ka kari if you die while it s still inside
your body.
I stand, wobble. Kids these days. You
poisoned the ale, I say. You poisoned the
ale?
Ironic, huh?
I fucking hate irony.
He throws a fireball at me.
I bring up the black ka kari in a shield.
With a whoosh, it devours the fireball.
That s not the Globe of Edges, he says.
104/153
And I m not Eric Daadrul. With a little
sleight of hand, as if they re coming out of
my skin, I produce five little metemptingic
balls: blue, green, silver, white, gold. They
roll uncertainly around the tabletop.
You have all of the ka kari? he asks, terri-
fied, but greedy too, not yet understanding.
Counterfeits, I say. For just such occa-
sions as this. I roll out my fake of the red
ka kari last.
Fear in his eyes, despite the suit of fire on
his skin. Confusion. The Society only knows
about six ka kari and what he s just seen
doesn t fit any of them.
You didn t lure me here to take my
ka kari, I tell him, sadly. I lured you here to
take yours.
A conflagration.
I m hurled through the back wall of my
safe house into the marsh surrounding it. I
knew fire might be a problem. That s why I
chose this place. No need to burn down the
105/153
whole Warrens not that they re much worth
saving. I land calf deep in marsh mud.
The black ka kari coats my body as Yvor
comes out of the burning doorway.
Fireballs burn smoking, hissing trenches
in the marsh. I dodge, flip, disappear.
He throws a fan of flames in a full circle.
A splash as I land behind him.
He whips around, throws jets of flame.
They curl around my torso, burning the
night on either side of me. What hits me is
mostly absorbed. The ka kari burns blue iri-
descence at every joint and curve of my body
as it devours the fire.
I ram two daggers deep into his chest.
The torrent of fire trails off, trickles down
to nothing. His ka kari drops into the mud,
leaving him naked, mostly held up by my
daggers. He looks me in the eyes and says, I
should have&
He dies.
106/153
I let him slide off the daggers, drop into
the muck. I pick up the red ka kari from
where it s hissing hot in the marsh mud.
There are no words. There is no light.
* * *
Nigh unto seven hundred years ago, there
was a great fire in Trayethell. A light so
bright it burned men to pillars of ash many
leagues away. That fire was Jorsin Alkestes:
mad man, savior, king. The war was lost long
before that last battle was fought. But fight
he did, teeth bared, laughing, incandescent.
A light so bright that the great men and wo-
men of an age flocked to him like moths to a
flame, and burned.
On the last day, Jorsin Alkestes, murderer
and friend, took Curoch and Iures in hand at
the same time. A lesser man would fear to
touch one. But he, magnificent he, he bent
the Blade of Power and the Staff of Law to
his will.
107/153
As krul, the twisted un-men, swarmed
over the last barricades and spilled through
the streets, slaughtering women armed with
little more than sticks and children throwing
rocks, one man fled who had never fled in his
life: Acaelus Thorne, unwanted treasure in
his hands, left the fight. Under orders. He
crept like a coward, outran the krul who
chased him, stood among the corpses and
filth and cowards at the mouth of the pass
into the Fasmeru Mountains, and looked
back. The krul were a black blankeheld tight
over the face of the burning city.
A light bloomed from the castle s highest
balcony. From a hundred points lightning
cracked down. Every flying narokghul
dropped from the sky, becoming a smoking,
bleeding rain. The bleak clouds rolled back
in an instant, as if shoved aside by giants
hands, and the light swelled ever brighter.
Acaelus staggered up to a group of deserters,
leaning against a granite wall at the mouth of
108/153
the pass, catching their breath, weaponless,
bloodied, their eyes dim, the eyes of the
shamed and broken. But now those eyes re-
flected one sharp light. Those who had
slumped now stood.
Titans rushed for the castle, smashing
through three-story stone houses, stone
shrapnel turned into dust motes dancing in
the light of a rising sun. The earth heaved
upward, just once, sweeping men and krul
and titans and a hundred other kinds of [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]