Chapter 79

Day 265:

The Tooth fell from John’s nerveless fingers as he darted forward to catch Veronyka’s falling body. For the millionth time that day, he thanked Vafthundryr for giving him the strength he needed to keep her from pile-driving head-first into the stony ground below. Her red Valkyrie wings drooped alarmingly as she looked up at him from his lap.

“I ... I ... didn’t know it would do that.” She coughed, then winced in pain. “Ugh, I ... think there’s a problem.”

Her hand patted her stomach weakly, so John peeled her torso armor aside to get a look. There was a two-inch-wide stab wound bleeding there, with ugly blackened skin radiating around it. The darkness spread quickly, creeping outward across her abdomen.

“What’s wrong with her?” He demanded, looking up.

Vasin and another Boon Mystic leaped down from above and closed in on him.

“What happened?” The Islander asked John as he examined Veronyka.

John took a shuddering breath. “There was ... a Dwarf assassin, right there next to her.” He pointed above, making several nearby Odmaaran warriors glare around fiercely. “Had some kind of black knife that he stabbed her with.”

“A Doom-blade?” The other Mystic’s eyes went wide.

“What’s that?” John demanded, stomach dropping.

“A truly awful weapon.” Rhys announced, standing at the edge above with an awed expression on his face.

He held something small in both hands. An orb of magic air, mixed with healing and some other power pulsed around the tiny ... animal? It was something living, anyway.

“Can you heal her?” John begged.

Carefully, like he bore something made of the thinnest glass, the Fey slithered feet-first down to them. Gravel and dirt scraped loose by his back as he descended. He knelt facing John, and showed what was cupped in his palms. The four of them: Vasin, Rhys, John and the Mystic formed a square, with Veronyka’s head in the center.

“I can, but...” The Fey trailed off.

It was a baby, a premature fetus still floating inside its placenta, though without any umbilical cord. Arms and feet flailed weakly about as the head and eyes turned in John’s direction. Rhys’s magic surrounded the entire thing with a sphere of combined power that mixed strains John hadn’t come across before.

Today was certainly shaping up to be full of firsts. And showed no signs of slowing down.

“What? Who?” John stuttered.

Rhys nodded at Veronyka. “It appeared in my hands, at the instant she fell. Sygraid has mentioned her pregnancy several times. Does it remain?”

This last question was to Vasin, who used his Eye amulet to scan Veronyka’s wounded belly.

“No,” the Islander admitted, “her womb lies empty, though I see that it is enlarged, with a ... life cord still inside.”

“Can you heal her?” John demanded again, looking between both Vasin and Rhys.

“No, I cannot.” Vasin admitted. “The poison is one of unrestrained malignant growth. My power would only give it energy to grow more quickly.”

John’s eyes involuntarily shifted to meet the Fey’s.

“I can.” Rhys acknowledged. “But it requires the same combination of powers that I use to keep this tiny one from succumbing to the elements. It is not developed enough to survive outside a womb yet.” Rhys looked around. “Is there any whose successful Challenges include the Topaz, Emerald and Amethyst Dragons’ combined rewards?”

A heart-tugging moan rose up from Kertug was the only reply to the Fey’s question.

“Could somebody shut that bastard up?” John snapped irritably.

“As you command.” Ariel’s voice came from behind.

The Paladin’s sword swooshed, followed by a thud on the ground. An arterial spray geyser shot out onto the already blood-soaked dirt.

“Thanks.” John muttered. “So now what?”

“Vasin!” Spooky interrupted, stumbling over with a limp body in his arms. “Healer! Come quick!”

The other Mystic stood and ran over to intercept the Dukalfyr. They lowered Hal’s bloody body to the ground between them, and ripped off the Cambion’s darkly-stained cloak. There was another black-haloed stab wound, right in the center of Hal’s chest and malignant blackened skin coated him from chin to belly button.

“I ... don’t think there’s anything I can do.” The Mystic admitted.

“Hal!” Ben Hull shouted, leaping down from above.

Treb jumped after him, sprinting out to where Sygraid was still pulling herself across the road toward them. Ben slid to a knee beside the Mystic by Hal and met the healer’s eyes. The Mystic gave him a sad head-shake and Ben looked stricken.

“Dammit!” Ben snarled, grabbing Hal’s hand and clutching it between both of his.

Hal lifted his head groggily. His eyes met John’s.

“I am ... glad to be here with you ... my friend. Fare well ... on your journey.” The Cambion croaked.

“No! No!” John looked around wildly. “What... ? No! Please!”

Rhys shook his head. “He is too far gone, there is nothing I can do for him. I can save either this tiny one, or I can heal Veronyka. But not both. I do not believe anyone else here could do either, and whichever you choose I may still fail at. What is your choice?”

Ariel lowered himself to kneel in the Mystic’s vacated spot, using his sword as a cane.

“I feel ... compelled to try something.” Ariel told them.

“Like what?” John asked sadly.

The Paladin shrugged helplessly. “I am not certain. It feels connected to that part of me which absorbs the life-energy of my slain foes and permits me to use it for healing. The War-chyld’s life force was potent, and offers an ... option. It is not my normal healing power, but ... related in a way I cannot describe. My form is very different from the Vampyr Death Knight one I carried for so many years. I am still learning what it can do.”

Rhys, Ben, Vasin, and the other Mystic flinched at his words. All of them stared at Ariel with uncertain expressions.

“Yes,” Ariel replied to their unspoken question. “I was once a Vampyr Death Knight of some repute. I am neither any longer, but something else. Something charged with treading an uncertain path alongside this man here.”

Several sets of eyes pinged over to John. “Yeah, I know. It’s not important right now. Ariel, if there’s something you think you can do, please give it a try! You haven’t let me down yet!”

Ariel got a surprised, pleased smile. “Thank you, my friend.”

The Paladin held up his sword with the blade cutting both palms, point down like a cross in front of him and bowed his head like he was praying. Dirty, blue-black blood dripped down the fuller to stain the sandy ground. A power John hadn’t been exposed to in months, one he could barely let himself think about, let alone discuss with anyone flowed up the Cherubim’s body and spread out to encompass the entire group in a powerful aura. Nobody spoke for several minutes.

“Is something... ?” The Mystic began, but John and Rhys shushed him with a hiss.

The world rang like a bell, a sound Veronyka would’ve recognized if she heard it. But she didn’t; only John did as Ariel raised his head to look him in the eye. Everyone else was frozen.

John blinked, no, not frozen, but moving very, very slowly compared with the two of them.

“I cannot choose.” Ariel denied. “It is not my place.”

“My fate ... is in your ... hands.” Hal added, jerking John’s gaze to where the Cambion’s head now lolled.

“John,” Veronyka whispered from his lap, “whatever you decide, I will do.”

“I’m not going to like this, am I?” John asked with trepidation.

The scary smile Ariel inherited from his Vorigan face came over the Paladin’s as a deeper, immeasurably more powerful voice answered using the Cherubim’s mouth.

“You are not, Retired Sergeant John Morgan, Overlord of the Watch and Liege over the End of the World.”

John knew the owner of that voice. It wasn’t one that gave him much hope.

He braced himself wearily. “Well, hit me with it.”

“There is a way forward, here in this moment.” The Mother of Dragons said to him. “By tapping into his ancient birthright’s inherent power, my Paladin has found a balance point between the necessary darkness of battle and the more difficult but uplifting illumination of giving life. He has stood as a leader among those who owe you fealty, and earned trust from one which surpasses their own death. These four Tasks are sufficient to elevate him along his Path to Redemption.

“However,” Ky’ur said, “Infernals are another Fallen Race. One who trace their devolution through an unseemly, and ultimately foolish bargain with the Seraphim’s greatest enemy, an Elohim. Halphis, the Cambion carries enough Infernal blood to qualify himself for a place on the same Path as Ariel. Accepting this will save your friend, but at great cost. Ariel offers to purchase Halphis’s first step by sacrificing his completed Tasks and taking a step backward along his own Path. As this lies within the spirit of Redemption, though not an enumerated Task from me, I am willing to allow it.

“But balance must be maintained.” Ky’ur continued. “A life must be purchased; for Halphis lies at death’s door. You cannot halt his body’s destruction, but I can remove his spirit and give it new form, elsewhere. He will live, but your Cambion friend will no longer be a part of your fellowship here. There will be times where he curses your name, for not permitting him to die in this moment. My price for allowing this, is the life of one of these other two here. And before you offer, for I see it coming to your lips even now, no, you may not exchange your own life for his. You must live with the consequences of whatever you decide.

“Will you give up your woman,” Ky’ur invited, “a powerful Technomancer? One who has found a way to complete two more of the Nine Challenges in a single day? I see greatness in her, which rivals few who have tread my Path. Or will you gift me your child? One touched by Time and Chaos, and transformed by my daughters’ powers over life, death, flame, ice and purpose. I foresee a being like no other, on any world I know, when the youth reaches maturity.”

John sighed. “What would you do with them, since we both know you’re not a fan of slaves?”

“I will guide them and shape them into the being I wish them to be.” Ky’ur answered. “Veronyka Krasnov agrees to the trade readily, as any mother would. If she is your choice, I will consider it a favor, as she is able to perform a task for me that no other might. A favor which I will owe to you after she completes it, such is her immediate value to me. But if your choice is the child, his raising and care will be both a Task and a blessing, uplifting the being formerly known to you as Halphis, when that one treads his own Path.”

“So, let me get this straight,” John’s head was spinning as he tried to understand, “I can either let you have my child, or Veronyka and then Rhys will try to save the other. But if I do, it will save Hal somehow? If I refuse to give you either, one will die anyway, and so will Hal too? How is that even a choice?”

“Ah, if you refuse, Ariel will immediately be promoted to the next stage of his evolution. One with much greater control over his ancestral power.” Ky’ur informed him. “That ability will permit him to keep your child alive long enough for Rhys to save Veronyka, and with all the healers present, replace the fetus inside her womb after she is well. The only cost to you for doing this, is that you must allow Halphis to succumb to his wounds. Know that if you do, he goes to his death happy to have redeemed himself in your eyes.”

And John’s heart fell into the earth. “Sacrifice my friend to save my child and my love? Or give one up to save my friend? This is the choice I have to make? Can I talk to any of them? Find out their desire about it?”

Ariel’s own voice now came from his mouth. “Sacrifice me. I give it willingly. I believe your friends are worthy of it.”