Victor of Tucson-Chapter 29Book 10: : Confrontation

29 – Confrontation

Arona shifted in her seat, trying to remain impassive, but wholly unnerved by the presence of the death caster standing behind Queen Livessa. When Queen Kynna told her about the meeting to discuss terms, Arona hadn’t been sure what to expect. She’d come in and sat beside the queen, and Kynna hadn’t mentioned that, apparently, champions often stood behind the head of state. Drok the Skull certainly did, and it was readily apparent where he got his name. His head bore no flesh.

Sitting there, under the gaze of the baleful red orbs that served as his eyes, Arona cursed herself for insisting Kynna ignore Victor’s admonition, adamant that she take Arona on as a champion in his stead. As the deadline for the duel drew closer, first months away, then weeks, and Victor still lay unconscious, Arona had contemplated a hundred ways to extricate him from this situation. She’d planned routes by which she might abscond with him—servants she could bribe to help her carry and hide him from view.

She thought perhaps she could get him to the System stone in Gloria. She had plenty of funds with which to pay the System’s exorbitant teleportation fees. Of course, it would have been simple if Victor had left her in charge of the portal array. Unfortunately, like all of his treasures, it was locked away in his dimensional containers, accessible only to him. It didn’t matter, though; she’d failed to act, too worried that he’d wake in a fury, stung by her betrayal in allowing his efforts on Ruhn to fall to ruin.

Of course, it hadn’t helped that she’d been hopeful, up until the very last day, that he’d awaken. She’d dreamed that he’d come out of his deep hibernation with some miraculous answer to his curse, stronger than ever, ready for the duel. What a fool she’d been! Was it the solar Energy at her Core? If she’d had her death-attuned Energy influencing her, she would have been far more pragmatic!

It also hadn’t helped that she’d developed quite a friendship with Kynna. The months she’d spent with her, getting to know the ins and outs of her court, had opened Arona’s eyes to Kynna’s truly good nature. She was kind to her people and hopelessly naïve to the schemes of the nobility, including her own relatives. Seeing the makings of more than one assassination plot, Arona felt the need to step in and help Kynna see what her heart hid from her. More than one of Kynna’s cousins and an uncle had been banished as a result.

It was natural, then, as the day approached and Victor still slumbered, for Arona to step up and offer to stand in his place. Of course, Kynna had other champions, but Arona had taken their measure, and she knew she was stronger. Victor and Trobban had seen to it that her Core was powerful—easily a match for her old one. More than that, Arona had been driven by a cruel but talented master for nearly a century. She knew how to battle, and some of her new solar spells, converted from her epic-tier Death Caster spells, were rare and unnaturally effective.

She was not yet a steel seeker, but Arona had nearly been the match of Ronkerz’s Big One. She was stronger now, wasn’t she? She should be able to stand against a Death Caster. Wasn’t solar-attuned Energy particularly effective against the undead? That was what she’d thought. Back when she’d learned that Livessa’s champion was a Death Caster, she’d been quite confident and had conveyed that confidence to Kynna. Now, though, in the presence of Drok the Skull, she didn’t feel much death-attuned Energy. What she felt was pure, abject terror.

Drok was, indeed, undead, and he definitely had the grave-like aura of death about him, but it was clearly a secondary affinity. He absolutely oozed terror. Poor Kynna had been beset by trembling fits as she reviewed the terms of the duel, struggling to complete sentences, her eyes wide and fearful. Livessa was perfectly at ease, of course. She sat, beautiful and regal, in her chair, calmly clarifying the terms she offered for the duel.

“As you know, Kynna—” They had agreed to forego titles early on. “—I’m offering you banishment. We of the Great Houses are impressed by you. We don’t want to snuff out your potential. What a show you’ve put on! That being said, you’ve already agreed to this duel. We’ve set the date; this meeting is a mere formality. Your reluctance to sign this final agreement will not protect you from the wrath of the veil walkers. If your champion isn’t in that arena tomorrow morning, the terms will be upheld regardless. The veil walkers are on my side in this matter.”

“Yes, I understand, Livessa. We agreed to a duel, and all I’m asking for is another few months to put my house in order.” Kynna had gone over her strategy with Arona. She’d stall for time, using her very real fear and doubt to convey a grudging acceptance of her fate. The more time she could buy, the greater the chance Victor would recover. Livessa wasn’t giving an inch, however.

“A few months? What do you hope to accomplish in that time? Adjudicator Wesper is here, Kynna. She knows the strife the people of our empire are enduring because of your succession war. She knows that every day people go hungry. Every day trade suffers and wealth is lost. Bandits feed on our contested borders, our usual peacekeeping forces unable to respond. This cannot continue. Wesper will see this document signed, or you will face worse than banishment.”

Kynna licked her lips, a trembling hand turning the pages of the terms. Arona could sympathize; Drok the Skull’s presence was overwhelming, even for her. The waves of terror hit on a visceral level, making the flesh of her new hands clammy, her mouth dry. Dead gods! Why did Trobban make such a perfectly vital vessel? Could he not have given her more control over the emotions of her new mind? She knew he couldn’t have. She wouldn’t have been her. Even her spiritual projection had carried with it her emotions and quirks. Without allowing their transference into a new vessel, she would have struggled with the shock of the duality—a separation of her old self and the new. Death Casters often went mad from such incomplete transfers.

“If you could just see your way to understanding—”

Kynna’s latest objection was cut short as the door behind them flew open. As Arona shifted her gaze to look toward the disturbance, the veil walker Livessa had mentioned, Adjudicator Wesper, appeared at the head of the table and held up her right, gauntleted hand. “Everyone, remain still. I will not have violence at this meeting.” frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓

At her words, Arona found her body locked, held tightly by the force of the veil walker’s will. She could still see the door, though, and, despite Wesper’s command, an enormous figure stooped low to duck under the lintel, stepping into the room. It was Victor.

The people of Ruhn were large folk, nearly all of them between ten and eleven feet in height. Therefore, the doors were usually around thirteen feet high to accommodate them with plenty of space to spare. Victor, even standing with a forward-leaning stoop and doing a poor job of hiding his pain, had to be close to fifteen feet tall. It had been a while since Arona had seen him on his feet, especially at his true size, so the sight of him like that—gaunt, eyes sunken and shadowed, straining against the veil walker’s aura—was a little shocking.

“How dare you defy my will?” Wesper asked, stepping closer to Victor. She was an imposing woman, clad in gleaming silver plate studded with diamond-like gems that seemed to find every stray particle of light and reflect it a thousand times over. Her helm had great, azure wings that swooped back and undulated like they were alive. They echoed the blazing blue of her eyes, which, at the moment, were narrowed in anger.

“You asked for no violence,” Victor said, grinding the words out through clenched teeth. “I intend none.”

“I asked for people to be still. Why do you intrude on this meeting?”

“I am Queen Kynna’s champion. I’m here to relieve that petite woman beside her.”

Suddenly, a dark wave of terror emanated from the other side of the room. It was like a curtain of nightmares, sounds, and things that Arona couldn’t and wouldn’t name. She found her heart racing as her poor body tried to both obey Wesper and flee from Drok the Skull. The undead champion had pushed closer to the table, straining against Wesper’s command. His eyes blazed with brimstone fires as a deep snarl emanated from his skeletal mouth, echoing and reinforcing the nightmares brought about in his aura.

Kynna swooned, falling forward onto the table, her mind unable to cope. Livessa, too, was affected, her mad dog of a champion apparently failing to keep her out of the waves of dark terror rolling out of him. She began to whimper, unable to speak or flee, thanks to Wesper’s powerful will, but so blasted by Drok’s nightmarish Energy that tears rolled like rivulets down her cheeks.

Victor seemed unbothered. He leaned forward, towering over the veil walker, but rather than a threat or a promise to behave, he said, “You should control that guy. I’m just here to watch Kynna sign her contract. He seems to want a fight.”

Wesper whirled on Drok, and when her gaze was squarely directed toward his fiery-eyed skull, the flames dimmed, and he stumbled back. “Be still!” she hissed, and the waves of terror immediately faded. Arona let out a long, shaky sigh. When Wesper swung her gaze back to Victor, the fury on her beautiful face was palpable. It rolled off her in the waves of her aura and either it was enough to cow Victor, or he thought he ought to show some respect, because he bowed his head and didn’t move.

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Wesper glared around the table, and when her eyes rested on Arona, she jerked her head to the door. “Wait without.” Suddenly, the bonds of the veil walker’s iron will fell away, and Arona was free to move. She pushed her chair back and hurried out, hardly sparing a glance for Victor. He didn’t look at her, but she could see his breaths were ragged, his eyes squeezed shut. It had cost him to fight the veil walker’s will—that or his curse was paining him terribly.

She stood in the hallway, pressing her back to the wall beside the door. She breathed heavily, glad to be away from Drok and out of the veil walker’s focus. She was hopeful the door would be left open, but it slammed and she was left in the dark.

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As the door slammed, Victor felt the veil walker’s aura retract and the terrible weight on his own will fell away, allowing him to properly resist the curse again. The knot of void Energy destroying his chest shrank back enough for him to breathe without agony, enough for his heart to beat without shredding with each outward expansion. He’d wondered if he could live with the void touching his heart, and he’d just learned that he could, though every second was torture.

He could feel his flesh knitting, gaining ground on the curse, at least for now. How much had it cost him, though? How much bigger was the void than when he’d walked into this room? It didn’t feel much worse than when he’d awakened in his cultivation chamber, but he supposed he’d have to look at it to be sure—after all, pain was relative. He opened his eyes and looked up, only to see the veil walker glaring at him. Her expression was as much puzzled as angry.

“You’re not well,” she said, clicking her tongue.

“I’m fine.”

She didn’t respond to him, but her eyes said she knew he was full of shit. She turned back to the table, and Victor did as well. Kynna was sitting up, rubbing her forehead, clearly disoriented. Victor was pretty sure she’d fainted under the onslaught of the Death Caster’s aura. He looked at the other champion, unable to keep the amusement from glinting in his eyes. What a creepy son of a bitch! The other queen—Livessa, he thought her name was—was also out of sorts, hastily working to hide the tears that smeared the makeup around her eyes.

“This disturbance is unacceptable,” the veil walker said. “I’m of a good mind to bar both of these champions from battle tomorrow. It would be within my rights to put off this duel and force both of your houses to find new champions.” Livessa started to speak, but the veil walker held up a finger. “However, the council of which I am a member, those of us who watch over this beautiful world, grow weary of this conflict, and we are eager to see it progress toward its inevitable end. That said, I will allow you to make good on your promise, Queen Kynna, and sign this agreement so these two champions can settle things in the arena at dawn.”

Kynna looked up at Victor, her crystalline eyes moist with unshed tears, clearly still bothered by what she’d felt from Drok. She looked confused to see him and was clearly unsure of how to proceed. Despite his pain and exhaustion, Victor smiled and nodded. Trying to portray confidence. With a shaky hand, Kynna picked up the pen and scrawled her signature on the document before her.

“Hah!” Drok laughed, his voice unnatural and hollow as it emerged from his fleshless mouth. “Hah!” he repeated, turning to open the door and glide out, his black, feather-covered robes obscuring the movements of his limbs. Livessa stood and frowned at Victor, but then she turned to Kynna. “Make peace with your people, Kynna. Tomorrow, they’ll be my subjects.” She turned and swept from the room, trailing a dozen feet of silken material behind her gown. Victor saw servants outside the door stoop to pick it up and hurry after her.

“Champion?” the veil walker said, staring intently at Victor until he brought his gaze around to her.

“Yes?”

“You would be wise not to challenge an adjudicator’s will again. Such defiance after the events that occurred at your last duel cannot be tolerated.”

“You mean when I saved Lohanse?”

“You aided Grand Adjudicator Lohanse, yes. This is precisely why I have allowed you to go unpunished for your actions today.” She glared at him for a long few seconds, then let her gaze fall to his chest where his shirt hung loosely over the ball of void Energy. “Make your peace, Victor. I believe your time on this world is near an end.” The air shimmered around her, and then she was gone.

“Victor!” Kynna said, pushing her chair back and shakily standing.

“My Queen,” he said, wincing as he straightened up. When she walked toward him, Victor was suddenly aware that he was his full natural size. He wasn’t used to looking so far down to meet her gaze, so he concentrated momentarily and cast Alter Self, reducing himself to twelve and a half feet or so—just short enough to clear the doorways without ducking.

“Elder gods! We feared you’d never awaken. How fortunate you did so just as we prepared for the duel!”

“Hmm. Fortune? Fate? Some divine intervention? I don’t know what to call it, but yeah, I guess it’s a good thing.” Victor could feel Arona’s presence on the other side of the door, so he stepped over and pulled it wide. She stood close, clearly trying to hear what was happening. When she saw Victor, she peered past him.

“They’re gone?”

“Yes,” Kynna replied. “I signed the paper, Arona. How can…” She shook her head, unable to voice what she was thinking. “If you flee, they may still allow my family to escape with banishment.”

“Oh, stop it,” Victor chuckled. “You think I can’t kill that pinché Death Caster?”

“Victor,” Arona hissed. “Did you not feel? He’s more than a Death Caster! He has a powerful spirit affinity. The terror—”

She broke off her words as Victor chuckled. He would have laughed more robustly if not for the pain in his chest. “I forget; you weren’t there when I beat your team, were you?”

“My team?” Arona looked at him, puzzled, for several seconds, and then her eyes widened. “In the challenge dungeon! Before you broke the place, you turned into a dark, winged creature! I saw it in the recording Vesavo took!”

“Heh. Yeah, something like that.” Victor put one broad hand behind Kynna’s shoulders and ushered her toward the door. “Anyway, don’t worry about me with that guy. He’s strong, and I’m very glad he won’t be fighting you, Arona, but don’t worry about me.”

As they walked away from the meeting room toward the portal chamber, Victor teased Arona, “I can’t believe you’re not a steel seeker yet. I gave you six months to get ahead. Did you make any levels?”

“Victor!” Kynna whirled on him, her eyebrows drawing down angrily. “Do not tease her. She saved my life from assassins and, before that, she helped me to root out corruption in my court.”

“Oh?” Victor turned to Arona. “You were advising the queen? Maybe Dar doesn’t need to send anyone to fill that role—” He cut himself off as he remembered six months had passed since he’d looked in any of his Farscribe books. “Shit! Did Dar send anyone?”

Kynna shook her head. “Not yet. He’s slow about anything. He moves in years, not weeks or months.”

Victor nodded, rubbing his chin. “I need to read my Farscribe books. Arona, I guess you’re off the hook for your slow advancement.”

She smiled half-heartedly, but Kynna wasn’t having any of it. “Your levity is out of place! Arona and I—everyone!—were worried to the point of madness. I was sitting in that room ten minutes ago, suffering under the weight of that foul, skull-faced demon’s evil aura, preparing to sign away everything and everyone I care about. Arona was bracing herself for the possibility of a duel to the death with him. Now you’re here, suddenly, and things are naught but a jest!” She stepped to the side, grabbed his shirt, and forced him to stop walking and look at her. “Do you understand?”

Victor liked to think he was an understanding guy. He could put himself in others’ shoes pretty easily. Nevertheless, he was in pain, and he wasn’t exactly happy with things, either. When she scolded him like that, his tongue got away from him, and he said exactly what he was thinking. “I get it, Kynna. I get it more than you think. I ate a damn nut that you gave me, and then I went through a fucking mental trip that took six months. I woke up with one more rank in my bloodline and found out everything I’d worked for on this world was about to be lost. I ran here, by the way, with a void curse eating my goddamn heart out, so, yeah, give me a little while to come to grips, all right?”

He pulled his shirt free from her hand and stalked down the hallway. He could see Bryn ahead, standing by the door to the portal room. He heard Arona, clear as day, say, “He suffers, Kynna. Don’t blame him.”

Kynna was just as easy to hear as they followed him. “That’s the thing: I blame myself. I should put a stop to this whole war.”

Sighing heavily, Victor stopped again and turned to face the two women. “This might be a blessing in disguise.”

“How could it be?” Kynna asked, her eyes moist again.

“If we were the ones pushing the duels, how many would I have had to fight to get to Kuria?”

Kynna sniffed, looking to the side, avoiding his eyes. She’d clearly had this thought before—likely back when the duel was offered and she had been confident Victor would awaken. “This has saved us seven duels against the great houses. If we beat Livessa, we’ll be on the doorstep of House Khaliday.”

Victor smiled. “I’m feeling better about those lost six months already. Think about that! Two fights and I’m done.”

“Victor, you big, bombastic fool,” she sighed, clicking her tongue. “Drok the Skull stood against that veil walker just as you did. He’s a thousand-year-old monster who’s purposefully steel-bound. Khaliday wouldn’t have allowed Kuria to come to me with a duel if there was a chance he could lose.”

Victor stared at her, ready to cuss and fume. How many times was she going to doubt him? Drok the Skull might be a monster, he might have come from off-world, but they’d known about him the last time they’d had this discussion, hadn’t they? Even Tes had warned him about the “monstrous Death Caster” she’d seen. Still, everyone had been on board with him pushing ahead with the duels then, right? Were they losing faith because of the curse? Looking at her, he had to ask himself why he cared. Why was he pushing this stupid conquest?

What was driving him? Was it a desire to see Dar’s request that his descendant rule this world fulfilled? No, He didn’t give a shit about that. Was it some misguided loyalty to Kynna? A desire to put her on a throne she didn’t really want all that much? No, that wasn’t it either. He wasn’t entirely sure about the conquest, but he knew about this duel. “Listen, Kynna,” he growled, “That piece of shit challenged me in there. He fucking laughed. If I have to fly my ass to Kuria, I’m going to kill him, so you might as well let me fight him in the arena. As for House Khaliday, we can talk about that when I’m done.”

Kynna stared at him, her eyes wide at his vehemence. After a few seconds, she nodded and pressed her lips together firmly. “I, too, would like to see that demon brought low.”

Arona stepped beside her, resting her delicate little fingers on Kynna’s forearm. “I’ll add my support for that, too.”

“Then,” Victor said with a fresh grin, “I will gladly present his skull to you both.”