Chapter 10: Striking Sparks | page 7

Whether or not it had been the truth, the Lyran had told Duaal nothing of use. And he had just used his spells to threaten the man! If he wanted to die, why had he been frightened? Had it even been fear? Or something else?

God, what did it matter? Duaal felt sick. It didn’t change what he had done.  Using his magic to impress was one thing, but to threaten another. Was he no better than his master?

The Jinn couldn’t even scream anymore. Her delicate amber leaves blackened and smoked under the jagged blue curls of lightning. Duaal’s master released the spell and the Jinn girl pitched forward, twigs and charred boughs snapping as she fell to the concrete floor. He stomped his black boot down on her branches. Tears streamed down Duaal’s cheeks, but he dared not move from his master’s side.

“Answer me and your pain will end,” said the old man. His tone was one of gentle compromise, even as the Jinn’s branches crunched under his feet.

“Why are you asking me? Ask the Arcadians! Or the Nnyth!” she wailed.

“Their Ivory Spire adepts are all dead. Even the Arcadian princess doesn’t know. She was never trained in those spells. The Nnyth don’t speak a civilized language, so I can ask them nothing. Tell me!”

Please just tell him, Duaal wished silently. Make it stop!

“What do you want with such old magic? What you’ve already learned is more than most can master and those spells are of no use to you here in the core!”

“If they are so useless, then why do you fight me? Give me the spells!”

“I believe… I believe I will decline your generous offer,” the Jinn groaned. She closed her berry-like eyes. “What is of no use to me is clearly all too vital to you. If you master the Waygates, you could bring your… gentle touch… to any world. Better to die well.”

Duaal was touched. She would rather let the horrible old man kill her than give up the secrets he wanted. But his master was unimpressed. He grabbed the Jinn by the boughs and hauled her up to her roots, chanting another spell in his powerful, rich voice. The words rang through Duaal’s mind and rose in his throat like bile, unwelcome but inexorable. He was screaming his master’s words.

To any other coreworlder, they would have meant nothing. Even to those who knew the language, they would have seemed like nonsense, random words strung together into gibberish, but the young Hyzaari made sense of them. He understood, and that understanding lent power and form.

The air crackled and hissed. Duaal’s ears popped as the lightning burned up the air in the room and surged at the captive Jinn. Her bark split and cracked, baring soft wood beneath that smoked and charred. Leaves burned away to drifting ash and the Jinn girl lay still as an ordinary tree.

The monotone beeping of his radio, clipped to his belt, brought Duaal back to the moment. He picked it up and keyed it on. “Duaal here,” he said.

“The bird’s secure now. You can come back,” Tiberius told him. “Are you safe? You haven’t run into Coldhand, have you?”

“I’m just fine. Haven’t seen Coldhand all evening,” said Duaal truthfully.

- End Chapter 10 -