Page 411 of Of Empires and Dust

Loren turned, surprise and fear in his eyes. “How?” The man shifted so he stood square to Dayne, brandishing his knife.

The power of the gemstone flowing through Dayne, he dug his foot in and hurled himself at Loren, only for something to smash into his side and send him hurtling to the ground.

As Dayne’s senses came back to him, his legs growing steadier, he hit the floor and rolled into a crouch. The two Lorian mages at the doors rushed into the room, while the two already within were charging towards him. Dayne sent a pulse of power rippling outwards from the gemstone. All he needed was a moment, just a fraction of a second – and he found it.

The pulse knocked the Lorian mages back a step, and their ward faltered. He tore through it with the savagery of a wyvern, the Spark flowing into him once more, the elemental strands pulsing in his mind.

“Do not hesitate.” Dayne whispered Marlin’s words as he wrapped threads of Air around one of the mage’s throats and snapped her neck.

He surged forwards, dropping below the swing of Lorian steel, only to rise and wrap his hand around the man’s throat. Dayne swung around the Lorian’s back, interlocked the fingers of his left hand with those of his right, then dropped to the ground with all his strength, dragging the mage with him. With the Blood Magic flowing through his veins, Dayne brought the mage down with enough power to crack his skull.

“Do not contemplate mercy.”

The gemstone called to him, urged him to breathe inwards, to capture the wisp of life that flowed from the dead Lorian. He pushed the voice down.I am stronger than you.He grabbed the Lorian’s dropped sword, hurled himself to his feet, and charged at Loren and the two remaining mages.

All three hacked and slashed, but Dayne moved like a man possessed. One mage stabbed at Dayne’s chest, the other at his leg. In the same motion, Dayne twisted at the hip and lifted his left leg. He brought his boot down, ripping the sword from one mage’s hand while gliding his own sword down that of the other mage, slicing through her thumb and half her hand.

The first mage fell downwards, the momentum of Dayne’s boot dragging him with it. Dayne twisted and drove his steel through the man’s skull, wrenching it free in a spray of blood.

The last mage screamed and backed away, stumbling as she did. The woman sent threads of Fire whirling at Dayne, who split them in half with his own threads and stepped through the empty space.

When the flames died and Dayne stood over the screaming mage, Loren spoke.

“How fast are you, Dayne?”

Dayne turned his head slowly, his heart sinking at the sight of Loren having cut Baren free, holding him up with one arm, the other pressing a knife to his throat.

Loren dragged Baren across the room slowly, the steel never leaving Baren’s flesh, blood trickling.

“Harm him, Loren, and I swear, I will kill every man, woman, and child that bears your name. I will burn every trace of your house from this world. I will cut out the tongues of bards who sing it and set fire to any books that dare record it. House Koraklon will not just die, it will never have existed.”

Loren gave a crooked smile, his cheekbone shattered from Dayne’s punch, blood dripping from two cuts. “And if I do nothing, you will what, let us live our lives in peace?”

“I’ll only killyou,” Dayne said, taking a tentative step towards Loren. “I’ll make it quick.”

“You’ll make it quick,” Loren said with a laugh. “How very kind of you. Do you like choices, Dayne?”

Dayne took a step closer, glancing at the Lorian mage who still lay on the ground, blood pumping from her severed hand.

“Ah ah,” Loren hissed, lifting Baren’s chin with the hilt of the knife. He kept shifting towards the door, then stopped when he stood between the mage and the door. “Here is your choice.”

Loren dragged the knife across Baren’s throat, blood pouring from the open wound, tossed Baren to the ground, then turned and ran through the open doors.

Dayne stared after Loren for just half a second, the rage deep within him telling him to chase the man, to kill him while he had a chance. Dayne gave in to that rage. He reached out to the Spark and launched a whip of Air, his heart racing. But before he could wrap that whip around Loren’s legs, a thread of Spirit sliced through it. He looked down to see the Lorian mage staring at him.

Dayne tapped into the gemstone within him, his rage feeding it, and snapped the woman’s neck as he dropped to the ground beside Baren.

Baren convulsed, blood pumping from his throat, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“Look at me.” Dayne placed one hand behind his brother’s head and the other over his throat, blood seeping through his fingers, panic trembling in his heart. “Baren, it’s going to be all right. Hold on.”

Baren choked, blood dripping from his open mouth and spilling over Dayne.

Dayne drew in sharp breaths, tears streaming. “I forgive you,” he said, desperately trying to press his hand tighter around the wound. “I should have come back sooner. I should have… Ahhhh, Baren, no, please…”

Baren stared up at Dayne, his eyes glassy, his head lolling. He tried to speak but just coughed and spluttered, the colour draining from his face.

Dayne looked down at his little brother, the one he’d once held in his arms as a newborn babe.

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