Raistlin's tall frame buckled and fell. Blood surged from the wound that had only just been knit shut, though the healing power still lingered, struggling to seal the gash again.
The Black Priest ignored Rhod. Her twin-bladed weapon turned in her hands and came cleaving for the Watcher.
The Watcher finished the already-mauled cultist with one thrust, then wheeled to meet the Priest.But he was grievously hurt—his soul-power bled near dry. He couldn't keep pace with the Priest's ferocious strikes.
In a heartbeat, the tide swung hard against them.
Rhod could scarcely believe what he was seeing.What is this?Is your soul trait mind control? If so, why not seize all three at once and butcher the Watcher outright?
He didn't understand—but confusion didn't halt the Black Priest's advance. She was in far better shape than the Watcher and now had Karamon's amplifications and healing riding her aura.The Watcher's phasing into shadow grew slower, the intervals longer. He was near collapse.
What do I do?
Running would be useless.The soul-rifle barely troubled her; the Thunder-stones did little more than annoy.
Rhod glanced at the stone in his palm—the one he'd been charging forever. A few hairline sigils of lightning glowed along the teal surface, but most of the grooves were still dark.
His energy wasn't even close to filling it.
A thought sparked.If I fully charge it… could it actually hurt her?
His heartbeat hammered.It might.Earlier, he'd lit only one or two veins, and it had still thrown them off.If he could light them all, maybe—just maybe—it would be a kill shot.
One problem: the Red-Shift Powder was wearing off. Exhaustion crashed over him; his soul felt like a punctured hot-water bag dumping its heat. His energy was almost gone.
Today had wrung him dry. Only Spirit's Recovery kept him on his feet.
Suddenly, a new idea flickered.What if I strengthen the star right now? Will my energy surge? Will Spirit's Recovery get stronger? I've harvested so many souls—I can power it up.
He'd planned to sort the souls after the patrol and optimize their use.There was no time for that now.
Rhod gritted his teeth, crossed his thumbs, and formed the sign.
The world blurred. His soul rose——and in the space of a blink he was within the dream.
Gray mist drifted past his vision. Silence pressed on his eardrums. There was no edge to this secret place—only unending haze.
At the center stood a three-meter obelisk of sea-green stone, its surface veined with cracks—scars left by the monster last time, still not healed.
Behind it loomed the black altar.Above the altar floated points of light, large and small—the souls he had gathered not long ago.
Rhod hurried to the obelisk and touched its face. It deepened to night, like a summer sky full of stars—but most were faint and ghost-like.
Only two burned with any strength:a dark red star, Devourer of Night;and a blue one shining cold—Rime Azure.
He focused on the blue star. Words surfaced within its light. He skimmed to the core:
RIME AZUREState: Faint BurnStar-Work: Spirit's RecoveryInfusion: NoneTier: Dim EmberStrength: 4
That was after yesterday's ninety-odd dust-souls—strength from one to four, state from "near-extinguished" to a "faint burn."
Rhod's will leapt to the black altar, where today's haul waited.
First: 781 dust-like souls.Then: 8 small fragments.1 large fragment.4 ×Soul of a Demented Sinner.1 ×Soul of the Black Raven of Evil.
He steeled himself and hurled all 781 dust-souls into the blue star.
Streaks of tiny light rose from the altar, flew into the obelisk, and bloomed in the starry night.They fell like a meteor shower into the blue star.
The state jumped from faint burn to steady burn.Then to ardent burn.The blue light boiled, flaring like a furnace of winter fire.
And still the souls streamed in.With each new spark, the flame burned bluer, hotter—until the state tipped from ardent burn to overburn.
The strength climbed fast: from four to ten, to fifteen—past twenty—still rising.
Seven hundred eighty-one may have been mere dust, but in number it was a rain of stars.
When the last meteor fell, overburn became maximum burn. A red line of text appeared beneath:
Limit of current Tier reached. No more fuel accepted.
Already capped?But the big ones haven't even gone in yet.
Rhod stared, incredulous, then looked back at the star's text:
RIME AZUREState:Maximum BurnStar-Work: Spirit's RecoveryInfusion: UnavailableTier: Dim EmberStrength:26
Understanding dawned. The bottleneck was the Tier—Dim Ember. The star's "position" was too low; its ceiling was low as well.
He'd have to raise the Tier later.Not now.
He broke the night and let the dream fall away. The strengthening was done. He'd pushed the star as far as his current conditions allowed.
By rights, with the star's strength surging, its Star-Work should surge too.
He didn't hesitate. He formed the sign again—weightless vertigo——then sight snapped back.
The reek of the sewers. The damp. The muck.Bodies sprawled across the slime-slick floor. Not far ahead, two shadows clashed in a blur.
The Watcher's arm had been severed at the elbow; his robe was soaked in red.The Black Priest was untouched, her twin-blades windmilling him backward, staggering.
Not good.He couldn't hold much longer.
Rhod snatched up the Thunder-stone. The fatigue in his mind was already receding; the hollow ache in his soul sealed over. Energy surged like a spring, gushing at his command into the stone.
Lightning veins lit along its surface—one after another, visibly brightening.
But it might already be too late.
The Black Priest rolled her wrists. One blade sheared the Watcher's spear in half; the return cut slid under his guard and drove into his throat.
The Watcher fell.
She flicked blood from the steel and stepped toward Rhod."Use this one," she murmured, as if to herself. "Perhaps we'll learn something new."
To her, he was a lamb on the block.
Rhod's heart climbed into his throat.In his palm, the Thunder-stone was only half lit.