174 (III)

Riot [III]

Adam might have gotten crushed by a Tarrasque, but Stormhalt had seen better days himself. Most of his body was burned. He had been healed to some extent, but his restored flesh still resembled badly grilled beef that was still raw in certain places. Patches marred his face, and inflamed bulges of pink protruded in disgusting ways. Stormhalt looked down at Adam as one would an intractable problem. The City Lord’s eyes were tired and spent.

“She wasn’t meant to be a part of this,” Stormhalt muttered. “She was meant to stay home and—”

“And… what?” Adam forced through his uncooperative lips. “Stay home and listen to your every command. Stay home and stay ignorant of what you promised. Sullain… The deal you struck with the Jealousy. You vermin traitor…”

With each statement Adam spat, Stormhalt’s gaze darkened. “Everything I did, I did for the good of the Republic.”

Something inside Adam snapped. And what came out from him thereafter wasn’t a roar of anger, but a loud, scornful laugh. Laughing hurt, but he couldn’t stop himself. “For the good of the Republic? You were going to give the Animancy Core to Sullain. He was going to use it on the Republic, on one of our towns.”

Stormhalt’s features twisted into a snarl. “We were going to intercept him! We were going to stop him before—”

“Oh, shut the hells up,” Adam groaned. “If it weren’t for me and Shiv—”

Adam swallowed, refusing to say anything further.

“I know about the Umbral,” Stormhalt said. “You don’t need to try to hide her from me. I know about everything you’ve done over the past month or so. The things you’ve achieved are impressive, but I fear I’m not here for you. I wish to know about your companions.”

Adam fixed Stormhalt with an unimpressed stare. “You just said you knew everything. So why the conversation?” Stormhalt fell silent, and Adam just shook his head. “You don’t think before you act very often, do you, City Lord? You’re a little too old to be this way.”

“How?” Stormhalt began. “How did he gain his Path? And why are you in league with a creature created by Udraal Thann? How can you claim to be a loyal son of the Republic when you belong to his father, Valor Thann?”

And it was then that Adam realized Stormhalt didn’t know much of anything at all. He might have had a Psychomancer peek into Adam’s unconscious mind, but it would take even someone like Uva to dive through another’s memories in vivid detail in a short amount of time. And it seemed that Stormhalt wanted to talk before that happened.

“I would tell you,” Adam began, “but my brain is swollen from a large bastard hitting me, so… If you don’t mind, I think I’m going to get a bit more rest now.”

Stormhalt pressed his lips together, and slowly he leaned forward. He placed a single hand against Adam’s chest and continued pushing down. The Gate Lord tried to move, but he was held in place by bands, bands of reddish gold, that kept him festooned to his hospital bed. Adam tried not to scream in pain as Stormhalt pushed down on him. The Gate Lord’s spine sounded like a mess of rattling marbles.

“I don’t enjoy this,” Stormhalt said through clenched teeth. Adam bucked and spasmed. The pain grew. “I don’t enjoy hurting you, even if you are your father’s son, even if I see his face on yours. I don’t. I don’t.”

Stormhalt sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than anyone else.

Adam managed to stop his writhing long enough to stare Stormhalt right in the eye. And despite all the suffering he endured, he managed to smirk. “Liar.”

And that made Stormhalt stop. The City Lord drew his hand back and took a step away.

“Liar,” Adam spat again. “You lie about everything. In fact, I think you lie to yourself most of all. How many people did you promise the Greater Demon? Again, I can’t quite remember. Where are you going to find these people? From the waste of society? The weak? The feeble? The poor?” He coughed.

“There are many who are ill, and many who have sinned,” Stormhalt began, trying to defend himself.

“Like you?” Adam wheezed. “Like you, who condemned so many people at Blackedge to their death. My father…” Adam swallowed. “My father is not a perfect man. He has done terrible things. But he has never condemned another to death without purpose, merely to sate a thirst for vengeance.”

And suddenly Stormhalt went impossibly still. “You have no idea who your father is, Young Lord Arrow, and you have no idea about the things he’s done. You have no idea what he has taken from me. You think this is a thing of jealousy or hatred. No, it is just retribution.”

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Stormhalt was so furious that he was calm now. And as Adam looked into his eyes, coils of lightning seeped outward. The City Lord was trembling. And for a brief moment, Adam wondered if Stormhalt was going to strike him dead. Instead, a sigh escaped from who should have been his father-in-law. His shoulders sagged once more, and he swallowed.

“This was a mistake. I was a fool.” Then, he blinked as a flash of dark lightning burst free from his eyes. “I… Yes, my ascendant, I… I understand. I apologize for my indiscretion and lack of thought.” He drew in a long breath and gave Adam a pitying look. “I did not wish this for you, Young Lord Arrow. All my hate, all my loathing, that is for your father. For everything that has happened, that is his sin. Not yours. You are just…” He trailed off, and his look turned distant. Then, he clenched his fist. “Godsdamn it, I hate you too. I despise you just for looking like him.”

The admission escapes Stormhalt like air would a ruptured wheel. By the end, he just chuckled. “I am not a perfect man. I fear I am not even strong. But that is my truth. You should have just told me. You should have just spoken. You should have…”

Stormhalt stopped talking and shook his head. “Now the Psychomancer will have you. And when they are done, I will see you fixed properly. If nothing else than to insult your father. The other Ascendants can protest, but your compliance will be worth the Republic’s security. Or at least that is what I am going to tell them. We are going to carve you hollow, Young Lord. We are going to remove every part that is you and replace it with something that will serve the Republic and, more importantly, serve us. For when your father returns, if he returns, we will use you to finish this mistake.”

“No,” Adam whispered.

“We will use you as our weapon to finish this pointless, stupid, miserable travesty. And what little of you is left will watch through your own eyes as a prisoner in your own body when you strike him down!”

Stormhalt was screaming by the end, and he suddenly seemed to wake to what he was doing. He looked at his hands, and he shuddered before turning and running away.

“Stormhalt !” Adam cried out. “Stormhalt, come back. Come on, you felling cock-strap! Come back!” He struggled and strained against the restraints, but it was hopeless. It was hopeless before; it was hopeless now. Even with his strength on the verge of an evolution, he couldn’t exert enough force for another level, but he had to try. He had to do something. “Starhawk,” Adam whimpered. “Starhawk, please. Starhawk, I need—”

Another shadow fell over him, and this time it was an older human Pathbearer with a snow-white beard that looked down at him. His eyes were cold, and from his crown rippled a wave of translucence. Soon, every one of Adam’s secrets and every bit of himself would be compromised. It didn’t matter if it took the man weeks to sift through his memories; they would have them in the end.

“No!” Adam spat. “Godsdamn you, stop! I am a citizen of the Republic! You—”

He tried to shape something with his Hydromancy, but his magic flared and broke against him. He screamed as it was ripped asunder, and the room’s magical wards flashed. It was specifically designed to hold him, he realized. He tried drawing on his Dimensionality thereafter, but a faint burst of static descended from the ceiling and hammered down upon him. Adam gagged. His vision spun, and he did everything he could to not throw up. He failed, yet still no bile came, only sour spit and snot.

“Struggle. Do not struggle. It makes no difference.” The Psychomancer placed his thumb against Adam’s head. “Your mind is mine now.”

And a spearing lance of pain punched deep into the Gate Lord’s consciousness. Everything went white, then red, then white again. Adam tried to resist, but he could no more resist the Psychomancer’s touch than he could stop thinking.

A miserable howl escaped Adam, and he tried to bite down on his own tongue—if only to protect what he knew and guard those close to him. Yet his jaw spasmed, and he couldn’t quite close it. Adam shuddered and called out to the Starhawk again. But when the Ascendant refused to reply, he reached out to another god, one he’d met in person.

Composer, Adam thought, if you can hear me, if you can do anything, anything at all, I will give you everything in return. Please, don’t let them do this. I need to break free. Shiv needs me. Uva needs me. My people need me!

The Composer has noticed your cry.

“It doesn’t matter who you call.” The Psychomancer’s cold voice echoed inside Adam’s skull. He felt like a hollow bell. And with every passing second, there was less of him capable of resisting. Soon, he would be more a glove than a person, and the Psychomancer would be able to weave and wield his thoughts, whichever way he so desired.

Just as Adam was about to break, the pressure of Psychomancy vanished altogether.

Something wet hit him in the face, something with the faint taste of iron. Adam’s vision cleared once more, and he saw the Psychomancer spasming as blood poured from his open throat.

It gushed down and splashed over Adam’s face, and the Psychomancer gagged and clawed at the wound, but he couldn’t fall. In fact, his entire body was stiff and rigid. His eyes were no longer cold. Instead, they were filled with fear, confusion, and desperation.

Adam was stunned by the turnaround of events, but a bitter scowl stretched his features as he glared at the Psychomancer with loathing. “Take a step to your left,” Adam hissed. “Stop bleeding on me, you shit.”

Despite Adam’s plea, the Psychomancer didn’t obey. He continued spilling his lifeblood all over Adam, and soon the Gate Lord went from startled to exasperated. He spat off by the side, trying to clear the Psychomancer’s blood from his lips. He pulled his restraints once more, but it was futile, just like before. Slowly, Adam began looking around the room, trying to figure out what was happening.

He didn’t kill the Psychomancer, so then—

The elven Biomancer from earlier suddenly came into view. Before Adam could say anything, her hand was over his mouth, and she pressed a single finger to the glass mask over her lips.

“If you wish to live, don’t make a sound. They are still watching. But I managed to put an illusion in place.” She gestured at one of the spell patterns, and with a twitch of her fingers, two of the shapes within the pattern flickered.

“Who are you?” Adam asked, wary.

“Right now, your only friend.”

Adam scowled. “My friends have names.”

“Then you can call me Raven.” The Biomancer grinned. “Now, Little Hawk, how would you like to leave this prison?”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep