Lightning's Daughter

19

While the King Stallion rejoined his herd, Gabria, Athlone, and Sayyed separated and spread out so they could approach the island from different angles. Their mounts passed through the ting of Hunnuli horses and carefully waded toward the island. The five Hunnuli on shore held their positions and waited.

The gorthling, wary but confident, watched the riders come. There were three humans now. That was an interesting development. There was only supposed to be one magic-wielder in the clans. Curious, he formed an opening in his defense field and fired a blue bolt at the nearest man. He was amazed when the clansman formed a shield and deflected the energy harmlessly into the air. For just a second, the gorthling felt a twinge of fear. Then it passed, and he snarled. What was another magic-wielder or two? He would simply have to strike fast and kill them before they could wear down his strength with their greater numbers.

He glanced at the Hunnuli, too. They were another problem. He knew the five on the island were only waiting to break through his shield and chase him out into the open. No magic would stop them. What he needed was a spell to frighten the humans and a weapon untouched by magic to drive off the horses.

His eye lit on the tall, upright monoliths of the temple, and a cunning grin curled his mouth. He spoke the words of his spell, and once again his body glowed red and began to grow. Soon he towered over the temple and could straddle his hostages. His defense shield dissipated. With a great laugh, he tore a stone from the sacred ring and swung it like a club at the nearest horse. The animal barely dodged in time.

The King Stallion neighed to call his horses back. Magic was a weapon they could avoid, but the horses had no riders to defend them against stone clubs. The five Hunnuli reluctantly withdrew, leaving the magic-wielders and their mounts to their duty.

Before the three sorcerers reached the island shore, the battle was joined. The gorthling fired at Gabria and the two men with a rapid-fire assault of the Trymian Force and other destructive bolts of power. Fortunately for all three, the gorthling was using so much strength to maintain his tremendous size, his bolts of magic were not as powerful as before. The greatest danger lay in the gorthling’s stone club, which he swung at the riders whenever they got too close.

The riders quickly discovered another danger. The land around the temple was uneven and rough underfoot. Rocks, boulders, tough shrubs, vines, and small saplings covered the island and made movement on horseback difficult. The gorthling made full use of the uneven ground, forcing the Hunnuli to constantly maneuver over the stony island.

The gorthling himself did not try to move, for the little group of hostages was clinging together in a terrified huddle between his huge legs. They did not dare run, and neither the Hunnuli nor the magic-wielders could reach them as long as the beast stood over them.

It was not long before the gorthling noticed that only the sorceress was offering any real counterattack. She fired her own spells at him while the men only tried to distract him with awkward feints whenever possible. They were rank beginners, he realized gleefully. That noted, he began to concentrate his attack on Athlone and Sayyed, forcing Gabria to expend more and more of her energy to defend her companions.

As time went on, the battle grew more desperate. Gabria silently thanked the gods for the Hunnuli herd. She knew she and the two men would not have lasted so long against the gorthling if they’d had to defend the crowds. The horses stopped several bolts of magic, and their presence kept the gorthling penned on the island.

But even with the help of the Hunnuli, the struggle was telling upon the three humans. Athlone’s and Sayyed’s inexperience was beginning to show. Their shields were weakening, and several times the gorthling nearly knocked them from their horses. Gabria’s fear for them intensified.

Gabria, too, was tiring. She had faced the brunt of the gorthling’s attack, and she knew her strength would not last much longer. She pressed the gorthling harder with the Trymian Force, with fireballs, smoke, and flights of arrows. She tried everything she could think of, yet her magic had no effect. The gorthling’s size and greater strength helped him ward off her blows with ease. Gabria was running out of ideas.

Then, in the blink of an eye, everything changed.

Sayyed’s Hunnuli, Afer, was near the sacred ring when he abruptly slipped on a mossy stone and his front hoof slid down between a cluster of rocks. The stallion lost his balance and fell heavily to the ground. The snap of his foreleg was heard all over the island.

Sayyed was thrown over the stallion’s head into the rocks. The Turic lay dazed while his Hunnuli tried frantically to free his broken leg and defend his rider. The other Hunnuli neighed in strident, ringing calls, and Eurus and Nara sprang forward to help the fallen horse and rider.

The gorthling moved faster, grabbing the dazed Turic with one huge hand. Sayyed was bleeding heavily from a cut on his head and was too stunned to try to escape. Nara and Eurus started toward the giant in the stone circle.

The gorthling laughed, and his eyes glowed red. “Now,” he bellowed, brandishing his stone club with one hand and Sayyed’s struggling form in his other, “watch one of your own die.

To the watchers’ horror, Branth hoisted the young Turic over his head. Sayyed fought back weakly, his face working with fear when he saw the ground far below.

Across the river, Tam stood by the Hunnuli colt and Lord Sha Umar, watching the battle. She had not moved from the riverbank since Gabria had left, and she had ignored Sha Umar’s offer for food or drink. Her hand stayed on the colt’s neck and her eyes remained on the island.

When Afer fell, Tam stiffened and her mouth opened slightly. She watched in growing apprehension as the gorthling grabbed Sayyed. A tiny whimper escaped her lips. When Tam saw the creature lift Sayyed into the air, she quivered with anger and fear. A fury that she had never known before exploded at the injustice and cruelty of losing another person she loved. No, her young mind cried, not again. No! No!”

“No!”

Tam’s voice rang out loud and clear across the water. At the same time, she instinctively used her wild talent to project her into furious thought into the human brain of the gorthling.

The effect was stunning. The protest burst on the gorthling’s unprepared mind like an explosion, sending him staggering back. He let go of the Turic and clamped his hands to his head. His concentration broken, he dropped his stone club and began to shrink back to normal size.

The magic-wielders reacted instantly. Before Sha Umar could stop her, Tam jumped on the small Hunnuli and galloped him toward the island. Gabria broke Sayyed’s fall by transforming the stones beneath him into a thick pile of hay, and Athlone fired a bolt of the Trymian Force at the unprotected gorthling. The bolt was weak and uncontrolled, but it was enough to knock Branth onto his back and give Sayyed a chance to escape.

“Get to the other side of the river!” Gabria cried.

The Turic did not listen. Instead of retreating, he flung himself into the group of hostages. The gorthling screeched in rage. He fired a blast at the people huddled together, but Sayyed formed a shield over them all. The Trymian Force bounced harmlessly away.

The gorthling felt his twinge of fear return and grow stronger. He immediately revived his own defensive shield. Now he had no escape route, no hostages for safety, and no place to retreat. He was trapped, and while his enemies were tiring, so was he. He could no longer maintain his gigantic size or the full power of his Trymian Force. The thought occurred to him that he had seriously underestimated these humans. He paused for a moment, breathing heavily, and looked around the island for some means of turning this battle in his favor.

Gabria and Athlone took advantage of the brief respite to regroup. Nara clattered over the rocks closer to Eurus, and their two riders watched the gorthling warily.

“We seem to be in a stalemate,” Athlone said between deep breaths. “What do we do now?”

Gabria frowned in frustration. “I really don’t know. He can’t leave the island, but I still don’t know how to send him back to Sorh’s realm. Nothing I do works!” She glanced the temple. “Sayyed, are you all right?”

The Turic answered without his usual humor. “We are safe for the moment.”

Tam and the colt trotted up the bank and hurried into temple to join Sayyed. He seemed relieved to see her, so Gabria merely shook her head and let the girl stay for the moment. Tam was already slipping out of the temple to help Afer free his leg, and several Hunnuli from the herd were coming to join her. Tam would be well protected.

The gorthling saw the Hunnuli coming, too, and his anger rekindled. He could still slaughter these people and drive away the infuriating horses. Abruptly he ended the respite and fired a bolt at Athlone, hoping to catch the chief unprepared. To his fury, the man’s big stallion stopped the magic on his powerful chest.

“Give up, you feeble humans. You will never defeat me,” the gorthling taunted. “I will be here forever! As long as there are bodies to inhabit. No one has ever conquered the gorthlings of Sorh.”

“You’re forgetting Valorian,” Athlone retorted, “and Matrah. He shot a blue bolt at the gorthling’s defense shield.

His blast exploded harmlessly, but his words set off a small spark of thought in Gabria’s mind. Like a streak of lightning, the thought burst into an incandescent inspiration.

She slapped the heavy bag at her side. “That’s it! Of course. Valorian knows!” she cried. The diamond splinter in her wrist flared from her excited burst of energy.

Athlone stared at her sudden transformation. “What are you talking about?”

“The mask!” she said, trying to keep her voice down. “Quick, Athlone, Tam! Get into the temple and join Sayyed.”

The little girl had just released Afer’s broken leg from the rocks, so she patted the injured horse and hurried to obey, leaving him with the other Hunnuli.

Athlone hesitated. “What are you planning?”

“If Branth can summon something from the realm of the dead, so can I,” Gabria replied excitedly.

“Not another gorthling.”

“Of course not. I’m going to try to use the power in the mask to summon Valorian. If I am successful, he can tell us how to rid ourselves of that beast.”

Athlone was awestruck by the simplicity and audacity of her plan. Valorian. My gods! Athlone thought. Without another word he took Eurus into the temple.

Gabria loosed two quick bolts at the ground by the gorthling’s shield. As they exploded in a cloud of dirt and gravel, she and Nara hurried through the ring of stones after Athlone and joined the group of people in the center of the temple.

Before the gorthling could retaliate, Sayyed lowered his shield and renewed it around the entire group, including Nara, Eurus, and the colt.

“By the gods,” Wer-tain Guthlac said to his chief, “I’m glad to see you!” He instinctively ducked when the gorthling fired a blast at the shield.

The other hostages stared at Gabria in confusion and hope. She gave them what she hoped was a confident smile and untied the bag from her belt. The mask felt heavy in her hands. She turned to Athlone and said, “I will not be able to help you maintain the shield while I do this spell. You, Sayyed, and Tam will have to protect us all.”

He grinned. “Gladly.”

Her green eyes sparkled at his reply. “Two months ago I would never have thought you would say that.”

“You’ve taught me well,” the chieftain replied.

He went to stand by Sayyed and Tam, and the three joined their wills together to hold the magical shield around the beleaguered group. The gorthling shrieked in rage. He fired more arcane blasts at the shield to try to weaken it, but for now, the three magic-wielders held it firm.

Gabria slid to the ground and leaned back against Nara. The mare curved her neck around Gabria and nickered softly. In the memory of my sires, Valorian was a tall man, dark-haired, proud, kind, and fearless. Bend your will toward him through the mask. Perhaps he will hear you.

The sorceress bowed her head. She did not know a formal spell for summoning a being from the realm of the immortals, so she would have to create one of her own. Nara’s suggestion sounded as plausible as any idea she might decide upon. She straightened and turned to face the flat stone altar on the eastern side of the temple.

The hostages watched her in growing amazement. The clanspeople on the riverbanks who could see her muttered among themselves, wondering what was happening.

The sorceress studied the stones still standing around her. Legends said that Valorian dwelled with the gods, beyond the realm of the dead. What better place from which to summon him than a sacred temple? If there was any place on the Dark Horse Plains where the world of man touched the unseen realm of the gods, the Tir Samod was it.

“Amara, give me strength,” Gabria prayed.

Reverently, she held the golden mask up to the sky. As the sunlight sparkled on the enigmatic face, the mask tingled in her hands.

Gabria closed her eyes. One by one, she focused on the sounds around her—the curses of the gorthling as it struggled to break through their defenses, the murmur of the hostages behind her, the click of the horses’ hooves on stone, the ripple of the rivers-and one by one, she shut them out of her mind until there was only a vast silence.

Into the silence she sent her plea to Valorian. She bent her will into the magic of the mask and called him with every fiber of her being. The world around her seemed to recede until she was floating in a limitless, lightless, ethereal realm beyond the bounds of her earthly senses. She went without fear into the darkness and continued to call Valorian with her heart, mind, and soul.

Time passed, although Gabria did not feel it. Her mind was wrapped around the image of a tall, dark-haired warrior with a cleft chin and the look of eagles in his face. She had to find him. The safety of his people depended upon it.

Her summons went on without pause until, far ahead in the horizonless distance, she saw a light appear like sunlight through a crack. Gabria moved instinctively toward it, staring at the brilliant, shimmering golden radiance until its power filled her being and tested the measure of her spirit. A warm sense of comfort and familiarity enveloped her.

The mask shifted in her hands. The light vanished, and the sounds of the world rushed back. Around the island the Hunnuli horses neighed a trumpeting welcome. Gabria was so surprised she opened her eyes and looked at the mask.

The most vivid pair of blue eyes she had ever seen looked back at her.

The death mask twitched, stretched, and the mouth suddenly lifted into a smile. “I have come, Daughter. As you have asked.” The golden face spoke in a voice both powerful and kind. Its words rang out over the island and were heard as far away as the riverbanks.

Gabria nearly dropped the mask in astonishment. She had not known what to expect when she tried to summon Valorian. She had only used the mask as a focal point for her spell. She raised the mask up again.

A question formed in her mind, but she could not bring herself to ask if this truly was the Hero-Warrior from the clans’ distant past.

The mask glowed with a pure radiance, the same light Gabria realized she had seen in her mind. “I am he whom you have called. I am the essence of the man once named Valorian.”

For a moment, Gabria was overcome with joy and awe and an overwhelming desire to cry and laugh at the same time. “I can’t believe you have come,” she said, trying to calm her’ shaking hands.

“Your power is strong, my daughter. Your need must be great.”

“Forgive me, Lord. I have to ask you something that only you can tell me.”

“I will listen. But ask your question quickly. I cannot stay long in this world.”

Gabria shot a glance at the three magic-wielders. Sayyed, already weary and injured, was concentrating fiercely on the spell, and it was obvious to her that he was tiring fast. Tam was ashen, and even Athlone was beginning to look strained. The shield was a difficult spell to maintain, even without the added strains brought on by the gorthling’s constant barrage of destructive magic.

Quickly she turned back to the death mask and looked boldly into the eternal blue eyes. “My lord, one of the Geldring men has summoned a gorthling.”

The mask frowned. “How?”

“With a spell from the Book of Matrah.”

“Those spells should be stricken from all human knowledge. There are some things best left alone by man. Where is this gorthling now?”

“Here. It possessed the man’s body and came to our clan gathering. My lord Valorian, I am the only magic-wielder with any training to speak of, but I don’t know how to destroy it.”

Valorian gazed at her with compassion. “No human, no matter how skilled, has enough power to force a gorthling back through the portal between the world of mortals and the eternal world.”

Gabria turned cold. “It has to be done,” she cried. “How do we get rid of him?”

“Only one thing in your world has the power to open a passage and force the creature back through.”

“What?”

The mask lifted its eyes to the sky. “The power of the lightning,” he said simply.

Gabria’s mouth dropped open. She was aghast. “Lightning? But no one can withstand the fury of the gods’ thunderbolts.”

“You are a magic-wielder, a daughter of my blood. Do you travel with a Hunnuli?”

She nodded.

“Astride a Hunnuli, you will be protected. They bear the mark of the lightning for good reason. Their sire, my stallion, was transformed by the lightning into the first of that noble breed of horses.”

“Lord Valorian,” Gabria said, trying to stay calm, “I cannot create a storm. Where do I find lightning on a clear day?”

“If there are more than one Hunnuli with you, they can summon a storm and its lightning.”

The golden light began to fade from the mask, and the blue eyes dimmed. Valorian’s expression relaxed, then stiffened into the one the mask had worn when Gabria found it.

“Valorian, my lord,” Gabria begged desperately. “What do I do with the power of the lightning?”

“I must go, Daughter,” Valorian said sadly. “Use the lightning to send. . . it . . . back.”

A faint echo followed the final words, as if they had been spoken across a great and hollow distance. Then the mask was still and lifeless once more. Gabria stared at the golden face and willed it to speak again, but it was too late. Valorian was gone, beyond her reach.

“How do I wield lightning?” she called in despair to the voiceless stones. There was no answer here, she knew, and now there was no more time. The gorthling was using a fierce blue barrage against the shield protecting the little group. Already the force field was beginning to waver. Sayyed looked ready to pass out, and Athlone’s teeth were clenched as he concentrated.

“Hold on!” Gabria cried to her friends. “Nara,” she yelled over the noise of the gorthling’s attack. “Call the King Stallion. Tell him to summon a storm.”

Beyond the island, the King Stallion replied with a strident neigh. We have not called the lightning in generations of our kind. We will try.

The ring of black horses abruptly lifted their muzzles to the sky. The Hunnuli on the island, even the colt and the wounded Afer, joined their silent communion with the air. Only Nara and Eurus did not include themselves in the call, deciding instead to keep alert in case their riders needed their aid.

To the Hunnuli’s advantage, the afternoon was perfect for a storm. The day’s heat and a humid wind had already formed billowing clouds in the blue sky, and several little rain squalls patterned the far horizons. As the Hunnuli herd concentrated their power, darker clouds began to gather overhead; the rain squalls moved closer. The horses strained, but the ability they had inherited from their sires served them well.

Gradually the sky grew dark, and a tremendous thunderhead reared out of the forefront of an angry mass of gray clouds. The sun was blotted out, and lightning flickered in the storm’s turbulent heart.

The gorthling looked up, and fear shone clearly on Branth’s face. That fear did not distract him long, though, and he did not miss the events unfolding in the circle of stones.

“Gabria,” Athlone suddenly yelled. “Sayyed passed out. The shield is failing!”

The sorceress jumped on Nara’s back just as the gorthling shattered the magic field. With a wild screech of triumph Branth fired a blast at the chieftain through the breach.

Athlone was too exhausted to defend against it. He saw the bolt coming and leaned into Eurus’s side. The stallion reared up and took the blast on his shoulder, but the violent movement of the stallion and the explosion of power slammed Athlone backward. He crashed to the rocky ground where he lay motionless.

Tam, exhausted beyond bearing, mentally called the Hunnuli that stood by Afer, and two of them immediately joined Eurus to defend the fallen men.

The gorthling turned away. He could not get near the fallen chieftain or the Turic as long as the Hunnuli stood over them, but that did not matter. Neither man would be any more trouble.

Gabria had not moved from the temple. She and Nara stood between the gorthling and the hostages. Behind her she heard Lord Wortan and Wer-tain Guthlac trying to calm the terrified prisoners. Gabria kept her gaze pinned on Branth. The wind was starting to roar through the temple, and thunder rumbled across the sky. The herd of Hunnuli stirred from their motionless concentration and neighed their victory to the oncoming storm.

The gorthling began to edge warily into the temple, his cruel eyes fastened on Gabria and her mount.

The sorceress stared at him implacably and made no move to attack. She had only one idea for what she would do with the lightning. If that did not work, she would not have a chance to try anything else. She sat still on Nara, feeling the powerful heat of the Hunnuli warm her legs; her fingers touched the jagged white mark on Nara’s shoulder.

As it had in Pra Desh when Gabria had fought the fire consuming the palace, the magic around the sorceress was intensifying with the power of the storm. She knew the enhanced power would help her, but it could also aid the gorthling. Quickly and precisely she began to form her spell in her mind, waiting for the right moment to strike.

The gorthling stepped between two stone pillars. “Valorian was wrong, Sorceress,” he hissed. “Nothing can send me back. Get ready to die!”

Gabria did not reply. Lightning flashed overhead, and she felt the split-second surge of power in the air. Lightning happened so fast, she would have to act instinctively. Branth took another step forward and raised his hands to the sky.

Gabria! Nara cried in the woman’s mind and leaped sideways not a moment too soon. A sizzling bolt of Trymian Force slammed down on the spot where they had been standing.

The gorthling was using the intensified magic to his full advantage.

Gabria threw herself to the right as another of the gorthling’s bolts seared past her. Another blast and another. They were so fast, hot, and deadly that Gabria could not concentrate on her own spell; it took her full attention to dodge the wicked bolts. The sorceress did not dare form a defense shield for fear of using too much of her depleted strength. She could only rely on the agility and protection of her mount.

Big drops of rain spattered on the warm rocks nearby. A lightning streak exploded on a tree across the river near the Jehanan camp, followed instantly by a deafening clap of thunder. The storm was moving, and Gabria knew she only had a brief time before the lightning was too far away. Yet the moment to attack was still not right.

The gorthling fired another bolt at her. It struck the ground at Nara’s feet, shattering the rocks and sending gravel and splinters flying. The mare reared away, her motion nearly unseating Gabria.

The gorthling began to laugh, a rude, wicked sound that reflected his arrogance. The sorceress would never destroy him, for in a moment she would be dead.

Frantically Gabria struggled to regain her balance. She saw the gorthling draw his hands back. At the same time, a tingling skittered across her skin and the hairs on the back of her neck rose. She felt more than saw the power that surged around her, concentrating its energy on the tallest stone pillar near the altar to her right. This was even better than she had hoped for. The woman closed her mind to all but her spell and let her instincts guide her.

Lightning struck the top of the great stone monolith, its incredible energy searing the very air. The gorthling flinched away, but Gabria put her trust in the natural protective powers of the Hunnuli and reached out for the streaking energy.

In one fluid movement, she snared the lightning bolt and wrenched it from its natural path into her hand. She felt the incredible power surge through every fiber, bone, and hair of both her body and Nara’s, and she saw the mare glimmer with a greenish white glow. Surprisingly the bolt felt warm and soft in Gabria’s hand. She swung around and threw the lightning like a javelin, using every bit of strength she had left.

The blue-white bolt split the air to the gorthling and struck his body in a blinding explosion of light, sparks, and heat.

Gabria’s vision went black and red with pain. She heard the gorthling’s high-pitched screech of despair and hatred, followed by a tremendous crash of thunder. At that same instant, the backlash of the lightning’s energy slammed into her and Nara. The Hunnuli staggered under the explosive force, and Gabria was flung to the wet, cold ground.