AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Together now Alanna and Jonathan whispered the spell that Duke Gareth taught them, changing some words to meet their need.
“Bright flame, light fire—
Around Ysandir burn higher.
Light the fire, bright the flame—
Burn Ysandir in Mithros’ name.”
“Ylon!” cried one of the two male Ysandir remaining. Fire roared up outside the Wall, reaching with eager fingers for the one who cried out. He screamed and disappeared, the fire vanishing with him.
Only two remained of the Ysandir: Ylon and Ylanda. Alanna gulped. These two had joined hands, and power gathered to them.
“Ak-hoft!” Ylon cried. The Wall vanished as if it had never been.
“The others were weak and greedy,” Ylon said with a sneer. “We are not.”
“We are the First,” Ylanda added. “We were here before all the others. We shall remain.”
“Who are you?” Jonathan asked, trying to catch his breath. Alanna wiped her sweat-beaded face on her sleeve. She was tired, so tired her bones ached.
“We are gods and the children of gods,” the woman said. “We were here before your Old Ones, and we laughed when their cities fell.”
Alanna felt a return of her old spirit. “A likely story,” she said with a sniff. “Gods don’t die. You do.”
“You think you know all, mortal. You know nothing. Even immortals die when they weaken. Ylanda and I are the strongest. You will not weaken us.”
“You give a lot of big talk,” Alanna retorted. “I believe in deeds, not words.”
Jonathan’s voice was even and strong. “Your time is past. You no longer belong here.”
Ylon and Ylanda raised their linked hands, chanting in a language that made the two humans shudder. Outside thunder crashed. The weird glow that lighted the temple vanished. The only light now came from their magics.
“Jonathan?” Alanna whispered.
He looked down at her. “We’re not beaten yet. Alanna—can you become what you were the night you saved me from the fever? When you brought me back from death?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered, eyeing the Ysandir.
“You have to—and you must take me with you. Otherwise—”
Jonathan didn’t have to elaborate. The light of the immortals’ magic was getting stronger.
Alanna looked at their linked hands, shining with the blue-violet of their combined Gifts. Already she was falling out of herself into that light. She could feel Jonathan with her. Her eyes burned as their magic grew brighter and formed a globe around them.
“Goddess,” she whispered in her woman’s voice. “Great Mother—”
“Dark Lady,” a man added softly, “open the Way for us.” Did she really hear Jonathan the man? She wasn’t sure.
Needle-sharp bolts of magic were lancing into their interlocked hands. Pain shot through their physical shells. Ylon and Ylanda stood before them in a wheel of yellow-green power. Fire streamed from them and broke on the newly formed globe of magic that held the bodies of Jon and Alanna.
For the second time in her life Alanna heard that female voice, the one that made her scream with pain. This time she didn’t scream. She was too busy concentrating on keeping their globe of power in one piece.
The voice echoed in her mind. Place your trust in the sword—and fight.
Alanna had dropped Lightning during the earlier fight. Now the sword jumped into her free hand, the crystal blazing. She could feel it trembling as she gripped the hilt.
“Just don’t let go of me,” Jonathan cautioned.
“I won’t.” Holding Jonathan fast, she stepped forward. Lightning sang in her hand.
A black, two-edged blade appeared in Ylon’s free hand. Like Jonathan, Ylanda did not let go of her companion. She stayed close, keeping step behind him.
Ylon brought his sword down in a ferocious arc. Alanna blocked it swiftly, her arm muscles screaming as she stopped the down-sweeping blade. Lightning blazed and—miraculously—did not break. The dark sword drank in Lightning’s fire as Ylon backed away. His big chest was heaving, and there was sweat on his face. Alanna circled him, her eyes never leaving his sword. Jonathan squeezed her hand reassuringly.
She felt better now. This was what she had trained for. She turned all her attention to the swords, letting Jonathan control their sorcery. Ylon, suddenly wary of her, lanced at her in a series of rapid thrusts. Alanna stopped each of them, feeling her confidence grow each time she stopped the Ysandir. Immortal he might be—swordsman he was not.
Jonathan was speaking softly, uttering words she paid no attention to. The fire surrounding him and Alanna blazed, and the girl yelled with triumph. She swung Lightning up and around in a complex move that brought the swords together, hilt to hilt. Ylon’s sword shattered with the impact. Alanna slashed at the immortals’ linked hands. The globe of yellow-green light exploded, and the two Ysandir screamed with rage and fear. Jonathan uttered one word of command, throwing the last reserves of their Gift into the spell. Blue-violet light flooded over the immortals. They flared up like a giant torch as everything went black.
Alanna and Jonathan awoke on the floor of the chamber. The Ysandir had vanished. Only a scorch mark on the perfect floor remained of Ylon and Ylanda. Near Alanna was Lightning, the sword’s tip blackened.
“Are you all right?” Jonathan asked wearily. He pulled himself to his feet.
Alanna couldn’t swallow a tiny moan. Every muscle screamed with pain. “I’m smarting a little,” she admitted. “How about you?”
“‘Smarting’ is an understatement. Come on. I want to get away from here before we try to rest.” Jonathan stumbled over to her sword and picked it up. “It’s still warm,” he said with awe.
Alanna rose, somehow. She felt as if someone had pounded her with hammers. “Think there are any more of them?” She accepted her sword and sheathed it carefully.
The Prince shook his head. “I’d say we’ve seen the last of the Ysandir. Come. We’ll lean on each other.”
They made it somehow to the city walls, where Moonlight and Darkness waited patiently for them. Jonathan felt his saddle, then the saddle blanket. “They’re wet,” he said. “It’s been raining out here.”
Alanna pulled herself onto her mare’s back with her last bit of strength. She had no wish to comment.
Jonathan headed east, to a small oasis they knew was nearer the Black City than Persopolis. Alanna wasn’t about to argue that they were going the wrong way. The oasis was closer than home, and all she wanted to do was lie down.
The horses contentedly cropped grass while their owners bathed their aching faces and hands in the cool water. Jonathan finally leaned back against a palm tree. “I wish I’d thought to bring food.”
Alanna lay flat on the grass nearby. “I’m happy just to be alive.”
They rested in silence for a while, breathing the fresh desert air deeply. They watched the sun set in pools of rose and orange, thinking they had never seen a lovelier sunset. Darkness came, and thousands of stars.
“Moonrise soon,” Alanna said at last. “We could try for Persopolis then.”
“We’d never make it.” Jonathan’s quiet voice came from the shadows. “We’re in trouble as it is. Spending the night won’t make it any worse.”
There was a long silence once again. Finally Alanna said, “I suppose you’d l
ike an explanation.”
“Yes.”
She sighed. “It’s a long story.”
“We have time,” he said comfortably. “I don’t intend to move till I hear it. You must admit, I’ve had a shock.”
“I’m sorry,” she said humbly. “I haven’t wanted to lie to you.”
“I should hope so. You’re the worst liar I’ve ever met.” He thought about this a moment, then added, “—or the best. Now I’m all confused. What about your twin?”
“He didn’t want to be a knight,” she replied simply. “He wants to be a great sorcerer.” She sighed. “Today was more Thom’s sort of thing than mine. Father was going to send me to the convent and Thom to the palace. And I didn’t want to learn to be a lady.” Jonathan’s chuckle gave her courage. “Old Maude knew. She said it was right. And—well, I talked Coram around.”
Jonathan knew Coram well. “How?” he asked curiously.
“I threatened to make him see things that were not there. He doesn’t like that.”
Jon chuckled again, imagining Coram seeing visions. “And your father?”
“He doesn’t care about Thom or me,” she said flatly. “I want to be a warrior maiden and do great deeds. Thom likes sorcery, and Father hates it. The only way we could get what we wanted—was to lie. I had to pretend to be a boy. I was always better at the fighting arts than Thom anyway.”
“Whose idea was it to make the switch?”
“Mine,” she admitted ruefully. “Thom might have thought of it, but he’s the careful one. I knew what I wanted, and I didn’t mind taking a risk or two.” She sighed. “I enjoyed the life.”
“You could’ve been caught at any time. You could’ve been a weakling; Roger could’ve found you out.”
“There’ve been warrior maids before. They weren’t weak. And—well, I think my Gift protects me from Duke Roger. I’m not sure, but I think so. And you can’t say I haven’t proved myself.”
“Of course you have, often. You do better than most of us.”
She picked at the grass. “I had to.”
