“Father,” Lyra asked softly, “can you tell me of a single example of Sakovan savagery that you personally have witnessed?”
“I do not have to witness atrocities to know that they exist,” fought the old mage. “The history books are full of examples.”
“The Omungan history books are,” agreed Lyra, “but the Sakovan books tell a different story. Have you ever read anything that you did not believe?”
“Of course,” argued Malafar. “If I read your Sakovan history books I am sure they would be littered with lies.”
“Then perhaps the Omungan ones are as well,” Lyra pointed out. “Alazar lied to you. You know that, don’t you?”
A pall of confusion fell over the Master mage. “I was confused,” he finally responded. “He might have lied, but he also told me many truths.”
“You were confused because he drugged you,” Lyra said harshly. “He admitted that he lied to you when he said he made up the story about Alfred’s death. I have never lied to you, Father. Who do you choose to believe in now? Your good friend and confidant who tried to kill you, or your only daughter?”
I…I do not think you are lying to me,” stammered Master Malafar. “I am sure you really believe what you are saying, but it is all so preposterous.”
“Is it?” queried Lyra. “Perhaps I can see how preposterous it is if I allow myself to be objective about it.”
“Then do so,” commanded Master Malafar. “I have always taught you to be objective when considering things.”
“I will if you will,” smiled the Star of Sakova. “I am hosting a meeting tonight to present our situation to the Sakovan people and get their input on what we should do. I want you to attend and I will welcome your input as well. Will you come?”
Master Malafar stared at his daughter as if seeing her for the first time. She was not the little girl he remembered who tried to sneak out of his magic lessons. He saw Lyra for the first time as a woman, a woman who was capable of reasoning and turning his own words against him. The confusion came back to him and he found himself unable to comprehend what was going on. He nodded blankly and continued staring at his daughter.
“Good,” smiled Lyra. “There is one other promise I must have out of you. You are an extremely powerful mage and capable of massive destruction. I want your solemn oath that you will not harm the Sakovans while you are visiting with us.”
Malafar squinted and nodded slightly as if dismissing the topic.
“Not good enough,” insisted Lyra. “Whether you believe in me or not, these people do. I am responsible for you being here. I want to know for sure that you will not harm them. Swear to me on Alfred’s soul that you will not harm them.”
Master Malafar scowled when his son’s name was brought up and he rose to his feet, his hands shaking with anger. “How dare you invoke Alfred’s name in the same breath as the Sakovans,” he growled, his face contorting with rage.
“I dare because Alfred was Sakovan,” retorted Lyra, darkness enveloping her features as well. “I dare because Alfred would ask the same thing of you that I am asking. I dare because my mother would stand by my side in demanding the promise, if she were still alive to do so, if you had used your power to save her.”
Master Malafar and the Star of Sakova faced each other on the brink of a deep chasm, their faces matched in darkness and fury, their spirits determined to win their point or perish in the attempt.
“Swear it!” Lyra screamed. “Swear it or strike me dead!”
Chapter 33
Ancient Magic
Master Malafar shook with rage as his daughter’s words echoed through his mind. She challenged him! Taunted him and used the memory of Alfred to goad him into sparing the Sakovan savages. Even the memory of Rhodella was tarnished by the young whelp. Confusion whirled through his mind. Lyra shouted at him. No, it was the savage leader whom he confronted, not his sweet young Lyra. Where was Lyra? What had they done with her? The last remaining member of his family and he was not going to surrender her to the barbarians. It was a trick he was facing, an image nothing more. Well he knew how to shatter illusions, he grinned to himself. The savage mage would be sorry he had tried to trick Master Malafar. Or he would be except that the Sakovan would not be able to feel sorrow after he was dead.
Master Malafar’s eyes narrowed to slits and he zeroed in on the false image of Lyra as he prepared to strike. His hands started to rise and he felt the tremendous power surging through himself. He heard himself cackle, as if he were listening to another person in a remote place, as he rose to the challenge. Total annihilation, thought Malafar. Obliterate the barbaric mage and leave no trace of him for the Sakovans to scrape up.
He felt the power build to unprecedented levels and yearned to cast the spell off, but furrows creased his brow as his arms refused to rise. He shook his head wildly and gritted his teeth as he tried to force his arms upward and outward, but they would not move. His arms started shaking uncontrollably and he felt them being pushed downward against his will. He howled in frustration as his body refused to cooperate.
The door to the room slammed open and Temiker and StarWind, alerted by Lyra’s scream, raced in and slid to a halt. They stared open-mouthed at the confrontation occurring, each of them able to feel the enormous concentration of energy in the room. Master Malafar and Lyra stood facing each other and neither acknowledged their entry into the room. Lyra appeared glassy-eyed, standing stiffly, her hands at her sides. Her brow was creased and her lips compressed, her jaw set in determination. Malafar’s body, however, was contorted, slightly hunched over with his knees bent and his forearms extended slightly and he was shaking like a bush in a thunderstorm.
Temiker cautiously walked further into the room to look at Malafar’s face and gasped when he saw it. StarWind slid swiftly over to his side and her face fell in shock. Malafar’s face was a dark visage of fury and rage, his eyes barely open and his facial features contorted, his skin rippling back and forth.
“What is going on?” StarWind whispered.
“Damned if I know,” scowled Temiker. “I am glad I asked you to join me outside though. Something is happening and I do not like the possibilities I see forthcoming.”
“What can we do?” asked StarWind.
“I haven’t a clue,” replied Temiker. “It appears that they are battling. I cannot conceive of Lyra matching Malafar’s power though.”
“Perhaps his confusion has diminished his power,” suggested the Sakovan spymaster.
“No, look at his skin,” retorted Malafar’s brother. “He is tearing himself apart. His power is so great he will kill himself.”
“But if we get Lyra to stop,” StarWind argued, “Malafar will be free to strike.”
“I don’t even know what she is doing,” frowned Temiker. “I have never seen anything like it.”
“It seems to me that she is foiling his attempt to attack,” StarWind said. “There is no fury in her face, only concentration. Somehow she is hindering Malafar’s attempts to act.”
Temiker stood and pawed his beard as he watched the confrontation. He spun at the sound of a noise and saw Goral enter on the run.
“I heard a scream,” the giant explained. “What is wrong?”
“The best we can tell,” StarWind said rapidly, “is that Malafar is trying to attack Lyra and she has managed somehow to not allow him to. The problem is that Malafar will destroy himself trying to overcome whatever it is she is doing to him. We cannot figure out how to get them to stop. If we stop Lyra, Malafar will strike.”
Goral barely nodded and mumbled under his breath, “Mages!” He spun around and grabbed a chair and splintered it over Malafar’s head. The old mage collapsed to the floor, his body wracked with spasms as he writhed before the desk. “Get LifeTender,” Goral commanded.
Jostin was standing outside the room in the hallway and shouted that he would get LifeTender. Lyra snapped out of her trance and sank into her chair, exhaustion clearly evident in her face and StarWind raced to her side.