Josey held back for a moment, and then shook the reins. Lightning took off like his namesake. She bent down over his muscled neck, his mane flying in her face, and wondered what in the name of the gods she was doing. But she knew one thing: if her army was destroyed this day, she would go down with her men. She freed one hand to press against her belly.
She didn't wipe away her tears this time, but let them run down her cheeks as she plunged into the fray.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Caim emerged from the portal with his knees bent and sword extended, ready to meet an attack. But nothing happened.
He was surrounded by the rough walls of a cavern, their slopes clad in cascades of white crystal up to an unseen ceiling. The floor was uneven. Stark blue light shone from a low, uneven archway ahead of him. Caim stole through the arch toward the eerie light, and paused at the entrance to a cavern even longer and broader than the throne chamber above. The light came from the center of the floor, where a rich, azure flame rose from a stone urn, throwing deep shadows across the walls and ceiling.
The Shadow Lord stood with his back to the entrance. He looked smaller, bent and crooked like an old man. Caim focused on an imaginary spot between his enemy's shoulders as he started across the cavern. But halfway to the flaming urn he stopped, his gaze drawn to the wall beyond the Shadow Lord where a cave mouth yawned. A cold dread settled over Caim as he realized it was no cave, but the gateway he had seen in the vision. Utterly black, massive in proportion, it sucked in all the light around it. As soon as he saw it, Caim felt a sharp pang in his head. This was the source of the pulling. All this time he'd been thinking it was his…
Caim spotted a slim figure immersed in the gateway. She wasn't moving, and at first Caim thought she might be unconscious, but then her eyes sought him out from across the cavern, the same black eyes as from his childhood memories.
Caim couldn't stop from taking another step, but the Shadow Lord's cool voice brought him to a halt.
“We aren't the first people of the Shadow to find this world.”
Abraxus turned, looking nothing like the imposing dark lord he'd been before. His robes hung loose on his frame now, his complexion a dingy sallow pocked with brown spots. “The tribes of these wastes have a myth of an immortal tyrant who ruled over them centuries ago. When my family and I arrived here, it was simple enough to assume the role of this eldritch despot returned to life. Few as we were, we succeeded in subjugating the local peoples and began the construction of this city. It was to be a monument to a new empire, a new world.”
Caim took a step, hefting the black sword. “What have you done to my mother?”
The Shadow Lord lifted his hand, and a shudder went through the cavern. Shards of crystal and stone shattered on the floor. Caim thought he saw his mother's eyes shift, but it might have been a trick of the light.
The Shadow Lord sighed, or perhaps it was a stifled groan. “Isabeth was my last hope for a new chance for our people. My shining jewel. And look what this world has done to her.”
Caim ground his teeth together. “The world didn't do this to her. The world didn't send soldiers to my father's home to kill him and steal my mother away.
“All to ensure the survival of our people. When we crossed over into this world, the rift we created remained open.” The Shadow Lord shuffled a step closer to the void, and to Caim's mother. “At first this was desirable. Despite your brilliant sun, we grew in strength and power, strong enough to scorch the sky and begin to make this world more hospitable to our needs. But we also noticed changes in the Shadow. Minor incongruities at first, but they grew to the point where it became obvious the Shadow would not stop until it had devoured this entire world, just as it consumed our homeland.”
The Shadow Lord shook his head as if talking to someone else. “Once I realized the danger, I held the gateway sealed for as long as I could, but as the years passed it became more difficult, more insidious in its ways to defeat me. My daughter did not always agree with my methods, but even when she ran off with that…with the man who was to become your father, I always believed she would return. She understood that the gateway to the Other Side needed to be controlled.”
Caim gazed at his mother, trapped in the maw of the portal. The vibrancy had been leeched out of her. Even worse, she still lived. “You're trying to tell me she volunteered for this? Go to hell. Release her now. Undo whatever you've done.”
“That I cannot do.” The Shadow Lord, his grandfather, waved him back with a veiny hand. The tendons on the back of his neck stood out as if they could barely hold up his head. “Even if I wanted to, the rift will not release her now.”
“So you lured me north for what? To take my mother's place?”
“No, my son. I never wanted you to be a part of this. But I fear it no longer matters what either of us want. The choice is before us.”
The Shadow Lord reached out his hand toward the void, his fingers splayed as if they were plunging into a vat of filth. Lines of dark energy flowed from the Shadow Lord's hand, into the gateway, and the black void was pushed back. Just a few inches, but it allowed Caim to see more of his mother. She was hunched in her frozen pose. Her eyes stared at him with silent intensity.
Caim ran toward the Shadow Lord's turned back. He didn't care about choices or old myths. He was going to end this here and-
The shadows swarmed to him. At first he thought they were attacking, until they folded around him in a protective cocoon. A moment later the gateway expanded, pulsing like an open heart, and a tide of spectral energy burst through the cavern. Caim was batted across the floor to land against the wall where he had entered. His skin was ice-cold where the shadows bit into him; he felt them shivering.
As he struggled to his feet, Caim looked across the cavern. The Shadow Lord stood rigid, back arched, with the point of a black knife protruding from his back.
The Shadow Lord collapsed, and Lord Malphas appeared behind him in the wavering azure light, blood dripping from his belt dagger. Caim shook as a melange of emotions coursed through him. He had intended to kill his grandfather to save his mother, but to see another standing over the Shadow Lord's corpse, with a cool smile on his lips, fanned the flames of his rage. Caim called, and the shadows coalesced around Malphas in a swirling storm. The cacophony of a thousand chittering voices filled the cavern. Yet just as fast as the storm formed, it flew apart, the shadows shrieking as they were hurtled away to gouge deep ravines in the cavern's walls. Caim threw an arm over his face. Lord Malphas stood in the now-empty space. His eyes were flat black discs within their puckered lids.
“You'll forgive us,” the majordomo said, “if we disregard the speech making and proceed with killing you.”
Caim only had a moment to react before an avalanche of gleaming black shards flew at him. Without knowing what he was doing, he reached out with his powers, and the shards shattered in puffs of dust. But they came thicker and faster, until Caim felt his protection being chipped away. He braced himself and twisted the direction of his mental shield, pushing the torrent up and away toward the ceiling. Bits of rock and dust rained down on him, but Caim was moving, maintaining his barrier as he maneuvered around the flaming urn.
A massive buffet sent him tumbling across the floor. His sheath of shadows fluttered, some of them peeling off and falling away. His entire torso felt like one big bruise. Caim didn't see the next attack coming, but he rolled away as an unseen force gathered above his head. He opened a portal and dove through. As he emerged, the air sizzled as Malphas hurled a bolt of black fire. Caim twisted away, but the dark flames followed him. The floor slipped out from under his feet. Falling, Caim raised his arms to protect his face, and his sword hand was enveloped in icy cold. The chill passed up his arm, numbing his burning flesh. When he lifted his hand, the fire was gone. His glove and the sleeve of his jacket on his right arm had been burned away-nothing but tattered black scraps remained. He'd lost some hair underneath, too, but the skin of his hand and arm were unharmed.
