Page 73 of Brimstone
The figure standing beside me looked real. I bet that if I reached out and touched her, she’d feel real, too. But my mother was nothing like the cold-hearted illusion that stalked after me as I turned away from Vorath Shah and went back to the wall. My mother was too kind and too sweet for such harsh words.
The dark dream had begun.
“Where are you going? What are you doing?” She hurried after me, her skirts swishing over the glowing runes at her feet. “So now youaren’tgoing to kill the human? Weak. Weak in your convictions. Weak-willed. That’s all you will ever be, Fisher.Weak.”
Her words flowed over me and fell away, having no effect.
My mother knew I wasn’t weak. She’d made sure of that herself. And I’d had way too much practice closing my mind off to the madness of the quicksilver to be affected by any vision that Joshin’s venom could show me.
I went back to work.
The section of the wall that I had struck just now was glowing softly. I hadn’t noticed before, but now that my eyes were clearing, the room sharpening, I was picking up things I hadn’t seen before. It was . . . it was glowing because of the blood.
“Not content with leaving your dinner on the floor? You need to smear your blood all over the walls as well?” the female who was not my mother said. “Just give in already. Haven’t you had enough of all this? The constant challenges, and the pain, and the sacrifices. Always you. No matter what.Youare the one who must give up his freedom.Youare the one who must tolerate the pain.Youare always the one who must sacrifice, when there are other people in the world who could be called upon every once in a while. Aren’t youtired?” She sounded incredulous.
“Oh, yes. I’m tired,” I admitted. “But I doubt that’s going to change. And what’s the alternative? Death?”
“Rest,”the female wearing my mother’s face countered. “Peace.Isn’t that what you crave? No more pain. No more worry. No more—”
The gods only knew what other weak reasoning she came up with. I had stopped listening. I was dragging my finger throughthe blood I’d left on the wall, tracing out the lines of a very specific rune.
The rune meaningbreak.
As soon as the final line was drawn, the hallucination shook her head. “Well, there you are. You’ve done it now. I hope you’re happy.”
I stepped back, observing my handiwork. “I am actually.” The rune lit up, blazing and white. It sank into the wall, its lines forming deep grooves in the stone. The magic that shielded the wall stretched thin. A veil of shadows shivered over the stonework—strange, since I hadn’t even reached for my magic—and I watched (andfelt) the ward that protected the demon’s trap splinter and come apart.
“Gottith man soh frayah!” Joshin crowed.
The dark door is undone!
Its cry was elated. It felt the thin blanket of power removed at last from its tomb. The lifting of the ward meant its escape, its freedom after how many centuries, squatting and waiting in the dark. ButIwasn’t about to let that happen. I didn’t love this realm, but it had produced someone I loved with a fierceness that took my breath away, and I was not going to leave this place worse off than when I had found it. For Saeris’s sake, I would protect it.
The demon trembled, individual scorpions jittering free of its mass and dropping to the floor. They skittered away in droves toward the stairs.
“Where do you think you’re going?” I asked.
“A city lies beyond these walls. A million beating hearts. A million humans to visit while they sleep. I will invite them all to the dream. I will . . . invite them all tosing!”
To dream meant to wander, trapped inside their nightmares.
To sing meant to scream out their fear so long and so loud that Joshin would feed from their pain for years before the city died.
The tunnels below Zilvaren were the perfect means of transport for Joshin’s scorpions. They could move in darkness. Discover ways to slip into people’s houses. They would sting them in their sleep, and the resulting symphony of fear it conducted would encompass the entire Silver City and sustain it for years.
Butonlyif more than half of his scorpions managed to leave this room.
I turned and I hurled my fist at the wall.Thistime, it shuddered.Thistime, it cracked. Dust rained down from the ceiling, hissing in waterfalls down the walls. The second time I struck the wall, it crumbled, a large section of the sandstone exploded outward.
Light burst into the tomb, cutting through the dark, and Joshin roared. The demon flailed, pitching sideways, half of its lower body already disassembled and running away from the light. It looked half melted, its form caught at the midpoint between scorpion and demon, its raw flesh exposed to the powerful light of the twin suns.
For the first time ever, I found myself happy to see Balea and Min.
“Ashelgrin Fas!”the demon roared.Make it stop.Smoke rose from its jellied form. It gnashed its teeth, scrambling to retreat out of the path of the light, but it had nowhere to go.
I had no qualms smashing another hole into the tower wall. My hand was already broken, and the pain paled in comparison to the burn of Joshin’s venom.
“Stop! You must stop!” Joshin wailed.
