"'It'?" Maira queried, horrified. "You don't mean the Perished Land? Are you saying you talked to it?"
"I learned from it," he corrected her. "I can't protect Girdlegard without changing it first. It's up to you whether you decide to help me."
Lot-Ionan reached for his staff. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing to consider. "Your actions today have turned five friends against you," he said sadly. "Your thirst for knowledge and power has led you astray. You should never have listened to the voice of destruction."
"You are wrong to call it that." Even as Nudin began to speak, his left eye and his nostrils dribbled blood, leaving thin crimson streaks on his doughy face. He faltered.
"Can't you see what it's doing to you?" Maira said gently. "You still have the power to renounce it, Nudin."
"N-no," he stammered, agitated. "No, never! It knows more than all my books put together, more than all the magi and scholars combined." His voice took on a hysterical edge. "It's what I dreamed of. Don't you see? There's no choice."
"Only because you agreed to be a part of it. And what did the Perished Land demand in return for this wonderful knowledge? All Girdlegard and its inhabitants!" Turgur laughed scornfully. "You strike a poor bargain, my friend."
"None of us can help you," Sabora whispered. She shook her silvery head. "Nudin, how could you?"
"You've got it all wrong," he protested, disappointed. "It wants to help us; it wants to protect us from harm."
"Protect us?" Maira signaled to the others. "No, Nudin, there is nothing more harmful than the Perished Land. We must fight it." She took a deep breath. "And we must fight you too."
"You fools! Do you think you can hurt my friend?" Nudin dropped his voice to an unintelligible whisper and smote his staff against the floor. The marble cracked, a deep fracture ripping through the stone and channeling in the direction of the chalk circle. A heartbeat later it reached the table.
The malachite disintegrated like rock candy in hot tea, crumbling into a thousand pieces. Andфkai, whose motionless body was lying on the tabletop, landed heavily on the flagstones. Green shards rained around her, tinkling on the floor, but still she made no sound.
Lot-Ionan, the words of a counterspell frozen on his lips, gaped with the others in horror at the wreckage. The table, their precious focus object, had been destroyed.
He was still staring at the sparkling green fragments when a blue fireball whooshed overhead, on course for the treacherous magus. Before it could reach its target, Turgur's fiery projectile was torn apart by a counterspell.
"For Girdlegard," Maira shouted. "Stop the traitor!"
The sound of her voice startled Lot-Ionan into action. Pushing aside his fears for his realm and his disappointment at Nudin's betrayal, he focused on the challenge ahead. He knew the others were depending on his support, but in all his 287 cycles he had never once used his powers to kill or harm.
They assailed the traitor with fireballs and lightning bolts, then joined forces for a combined attack.
Flames and projectiles bombarded Nudin's shield and he disappeared amid the inferno. Sabora toppled the pillars on either side of him, bringing a section of ceiling crashing to the ground. Dust swirled around them, obscuring their view.
None of them dared to check on Andфkai; all energies were focused on Nudin.
"Let's take a look." Maira summoned a gust, propelling the dust through the open roof. As the clouds dispersed, they found themselves looking into thin air-Nudin the Knowledge-Lusty was gone, but there was nothing to suggest that he had been destroyed.
"He can't have survived," wheezed Turgur. "It's impossible. He must have-" His eyes widened in horror as he looked at his hand. The skin was wrinkling, its surface filling with age spots that blackened and turned into sores. A hastily invoked countercharm did nothing to stop the rot. The festering infection spread along his arm, eating into his chest, then his legs.
Sabora rushed to his aid. Without flinching she laid a hand on the putrefying skin. This time her healing powers failed her.
With nothing to hold his flesh together, Turgur slid to the floor. He tried to speak, but his rotten tongue twitched helplessly in his mouth. The fair-faced magus had been robbed of his beauty; a moment later, he forfeited his life. A deathly canker had eaten him alive.
Lot-Ionan struggled to contain his growing dread. Nudin commanded powers the like of which had never been seen. The Perished Land had taught him terrifying secrets.
Stepping out from behind a pillar, the false magus appeared at Maira's side. She shrank away.
"You had your chance," he rasped, drawing a few paces closer and stopping by the fallen Andфkai. "I asked you to help me and you refused. Much good will it do you. I'll show you what-"
At that moment, Andфkai, who had been lying seemingly dead on the floor, shot up and drew her sword. The blade sang through the air and pierced Nudin's chest.
"Take that, you traitor!" she thundered, raking the sword upward. The metal tore through the left side of his rib cage and continued through his collarbone, hewing his shoulder. Nudin staggered and fell.
As he went down, he raised his staff and hurled it with all his might. The tip buried itself in Andфkai's chest. She gave a low moan and toppled backward, fingers clutching at the malachite splinters that littered the floor. Then she was still.
"Andфkai!" In an instant, Sabora was at her side, laying hands on the wound.
The sight of the traitor lying in a pool of blood allowed Lot-Ionan and Maira to draw breath. They knelt alongside the injured Andфkai, but their magic could do nothing to help her.
"We're not strong enough," said Sabora, scrambling to her feet. "Our powers have been depleted by the ritual and the battle. Try to stop the bleeding while I go for help. A rested famulus with a knowledge of healing might save her yet."
She took two paces toward the door and froze midstep. Her face took on a bluish tinge that spread rapidly through her body.
"Sabora?" Lot-Ionan reached out to touch her. A stab of cold rushed through his arm, freezing his fingertips to her skin. Sabora had turned to ice.
"Andфkai the Tempestuous lies still, Turgur the Fair-Faced has lost his looks, and Sabora the Softly-Spoken will forever keep her peace. What will become of Lot-Ionan the Forbearing, I wonder?" a voice rasped behind him.
Nudin? Lot-Ionan howled furiously, tugging his hand way from the maga's frozen arm and skinning his fingertips. His sorrow at the fate of his beloved Sabora turned to violent rage. "You'll pay for this, Nudin. You won't cheat death again!" A terrible curse on his lips, he whirled round to face the traitor. Nudin's staff was pointing straight at him. His robes were bloodied, but there was no sign of the grisly wound inflicted by Andфkai's sword; a rip in his cloak was the only evidence of the blade's gory passage.
Before Lot-Ionan could react, he was seized by an insidious paralysis. The heat seemed to vanish from his body, chilling him to the core, while his skin tightened so excruciatingly that tears rolled down his rigid cheeks. Only his eyes were free to move.
"Can't you see it's using you, Nudin?" Maira tried to rise from Andфkai's side, but slipped on the fragments of malachite and swayed. Nudin saw his chance. On his command, the splinters rose up like an uneven carpet of thorns. He hurled a curse at her.
Maira deflected the black bolt, but staggered and fell among the shards. The jagged crystals cut through her robes, slashing her skin and inflicting grievous wounds.
"Nudin, I'm begging you-" she whispered urgently.
"No one has the right to ask anything of me!" He stood over her and brought the staff down heavily with both hands. Maira let out a tortured scream as the onyx smashed into her face. There was a flash of black lightning. "From now on, I listen to no one."
Possessed of a crazed fury, he battered her head until the skull gave way with a sickening crack. Nothing was left of Maira's once-dignified countenance.