Alora: The Portal (Alora 2)

Reaching a corner, Worster held up his hand, signaling silence as he dropped to his knees, craning his head to see into the passageway. He pulled back, sitting against the wall, motioning with his fingers to indicate four guards around the corner.

Were they close? Could they take out the sentries without raising an alarm?

A shrill screech of pain and terror ripped through the corridor. On and on. Alora. A wail of agony.

Still, she screamed. Graely gagged at the images flooding his mind. Worster and Naegle froze with wide eyes. Morvaen’s face reddened and his fist tightened around his sword, his muscles trembling as if he wanted to tear someone’s head from their shoulders.

Graely knew the children would be forever changed. Gone was the innocence of youth, buried in the overwhelming reality of evil. No amount of time would erase the memory or restore that which was lost. And that only if they survived.

*****

Alleraen’s heart pumped in his chest, a mad dance. B

ut it was excitement, not fear, that set his muscles tight and trembling. At last, after all these years, he would have his respite. Tonight he would kill his brother and avenge his father. Tonight, Drakeon would pay for Alleraen’s lifetime of maddening confinement. He’d spent every waking breath in preparation for this moment and he knew, with absolute certainty, he’d be victorious.

Drakeon passed the strange iron rod to his shaman, slowly turning to face him as he drew his sword, a sneer painted on his face. “You’re a sentimental fool, as always. You could have killed me while my back was turned.”

“There was no need, Drakeon. I want to look in your eyes when my sword takes your life.” Alleraen fingered his pilfered sword, familiarizing his hand with the weight and balance. Though the blade was nothing special, he was confident in his gifting, both in weapons and in strength.

Drakeon spoke over his shoulder. “Empusa, see that no one disturbs my captives until I dispense with my brother. If anything should happen to me, kill them.”

Dropping the rod, the eerie shaman lifted her hands and bent her head, pale blond hair falling forward to envelop her face. A shimmering cloud surrounded her, almost as tall as two men and extending out beyond Alora and Kaevin, shackled to their platforms.

Alleraen gave a silent curse, knowing the shaman would prevent Arista from accomplishing her task. No matter. Once my brother is dead, the shaman will no longer answer to her bloodbond.

Drakeon sneered. “My guards—”

“Are dead or disabled.” Alleraen finished Drakeon’s sentence, enjoying his brother’s momentary lapse in composure.

“But more are coming, for I have compelled them. You’ll never escape the caverns if you don’t leave before they arrive.” Drakeon moved his sword in slow methodic circles as he stepped forward, and Alleraen wondered which would prove stronger, a God-given gift or a thieved one. He dismissed the thought, knowing his thirst for justice was unquenchable.

“You’ve already stolen my life, Drakeon. I don’t fear death or God’s subsequent judgment. I’ll gladly face both to send you to yours. What’s that I see in your eyes? Could it be a bit of apprehension? Did you not realize this day would come? Surely you knew you’d someday be called to account before our Maker for your wicked actions?”

Drakeon feinted to his right then lunged to his left. Alleraen parried the attack with ease. Dancing forward, Alleraen sent quick jabs to test Drakeon’s reflexes. He was fast, but Alleraen was faster.

He slashed. Drakeon turned. Too slow. Alleraen’s blade sliced through Drakeon’s shirt, and red bloomed on his left arm. Drakeon cursed, swinging his sword in a downward arc toward Alleraen’s head. Alleraen thrust upward to meet his blade, sliding and locking hilt to hilt. Drakeon used both arms, straining as he struggled against the strength of Alleraen’s right arm.

He could end it now. Take his revenge. He could withdraw and thrust into Drakeon’s heart, powering past his defense with brute strength. No, it’s too soon. I’ll extend my brother’s terror a few more moments. He deserves to suffer longer for all the iniquity he’s done. Though God will surely punish him in the next life, I want to deliver my own bit of justice.

He glanced to the side, assured to see the shaman still frozen in place, projecting the protective shroud and not actually harming the children. Using his weight, he forced his brother back, step by step until the wall stopped his progress.

Beads of sweat broke out on Drakeon’s forehead, his face red with effort. With perfect control, Alleraen increased the pressure, bending Drakeon’s hands back until the blade pressed against his neck, drawing blood.

“Do it,” Drakeon rasped.

“I will, Brother. But first, I think I’ll cut you one time for each year you’ve stolen from my life.” Alleraen sprang back with a laugh, slashing across his chest. “That makes only three. Your skin shall be in ribbons before you die.”

“Alleraen! Look out behind you.” At Arista’s cry of alarm, he glanced over his shoulder to find four armed sentries standing just beyond sword reach. Keeping Drakeon in his sights, he drew a knife in his left hand, preparing to battle all five at once, though the four made no move to engage.

Arista gave another shout as the door burst open and three more sentries rushed inside, setting their aim for Arista. Her arm blurred. A blade flew. The foremost guard darted to the side, rolling and bounding to his feet, unscathed.

Alleraen heard Arista’s name as two of the sentries behind him darted toward her, their forms morphing before his eyes, along with their clothing. He stared in confusion as the two remaining Water Clan sentries became Stone Clan warriors, one with a bloodied face and bandaged head, and the other a massive man staring intently over Alleraen’s shoulder. The huge warrior cried out, moving at lightning speed to tackle him about the waist. Taken by surprise, Alleraen brought his blade up to defend himself, but the large warrior rolled out of reach.

“Wait!” The bloody man stepped between them. “Morvaen has just saved your life from Vindrake’s knife, for I believe we’re fighting on the same side. But I’m afraid you’ve lost your prize.”

Alleraen looked behind him. Drakeon was gone.

*****