It was one thing to know Pyrida had gone mad, but another to be pulled into the nightmare with him. It was as if the magical blow to the top of the head had opened the door to somewhere else -- a dark, forbidding place. The essence of Pyrida stood there like a black stone with arms, reaching to pull him in and destroy him.
"Rory!" Zorian yelled somewhere close by -- and yet in another universe. "Oh no. You can't have him!"
Zorian caught Rory by the arm, and Rory could see his friend's hand though no other part of him. Zorian yanked at him, and Rory tried to help, but Pyrida screamed, reached with stone arms, and yanked them all the way in.
"Well, this could have gone better," Zorian said.
Zorian and Rory stood side-by-side in a landscape of fire rage and ice cunning. A spear of destruction came at them, as large as a building. They would have been dead if Rory had paused for even a heartbeat. The same for Zorian. Instead, they both attacked with a force that seemed puny compared to the attack, a single ray of light --
That light found a crack, expanded it, traced a web of weaknesses, and exploded in two fast heartbeats.
Pyrida himself stood on the other side, a look of shock on his face.
"He's too used to ruling this place," Zorian said. Pyrida's head came up, and Rory could feel the glare. "He has never had anyone challenge him here before."
Zorian tossed a fireball at Pyrida -- nothing fancy or very powerful, but even that almost took the priest out.
There was something Rory had yet to consider. They were three priests facing each other. Rory and Pyrida should have been on the same side, and they'd been attached to the same temple, served the same God ... knew the same magic.
Rory wasn't sure whether that was beneficial for Zorian and him. Pyrida would have the same realization.
Or maybe not. Pyrida had always considered himself singular, better, and apart from the rest. Pyrida might have learned some different pieces of magic from all his long studies, but it was doubtful he'd learned any other fundamentals on creating it.
Rory was confident of that part, in fact. He could tell just by what he had already faced from the man.
There was no way to tell all of this to Zorian, though. Instead, he had to hold the knowledge and wait for the right time to use it.
That gave them time to study Pyrida and the magical world he had created. At first, he only saw chaos, which gave way to odd patterns that moved past Pyrida and fed him magic. It was the circle of magic made manifest -- and it was something Rory could also use. Pyrida didn't realize it, he hoped. He might not see the link to the old magic since he clearly thought this was his own world.
Everything was tied.
Rory just had to find the correct string to cut. That meant leaving much of the current work to Zorian, and he could not explain why.
Zorian did give him an odd look when he pulled back the bit of magic he had been using, but he reinforced his own magic and drove aside the fiery wall that came at them.
"Rory --"
"I know his magic," Rory dared to whisper.
Zorian didn't look his way, but there was a feeling of acknowledgment in the change of his stance. He even swept in for his own attack, startling Pyrida. There was another fact to take in. Pyrida had never faced an enemy.
No, that could not be true. Pyrida had, if nothing else, captured the dragons. They would not have given up without a fight. Would they? Could Pyrida have fooled them somehow? Dragons were old and wise --
Old. Time. Pyrida had centuries to work his magic on them, so little at a time that they didn't notice. Had he done the same with the New Order of Man? Or had they been willing to join in just on common goals?
Concentrate on the links to the dragons.
As much as Rory tried to ignore what was happening, several soldiers' intrusion drew his attention. That they showed no surprise answered the question about magic. Even allies would be shocked to be pulled from reality into this unless they were under some spell.
"Rory --"
"I am on it," he promised and noted how much strain there had been in his friend's voice. There was no time for study.
The soldiers charged straight at them. Rory moved, though he was wise enough not to put himself directly in front of Zorian, which would have blocked off his use of magic.
The attack slightly from the side worked better, anyway. Rory used as little power as he could and nothing fancy, but it worked. Pyrida, he realized, was using everything powerful he could to take them down and forgetting the first rule of magic: conserve power and attack weaknesses.
The weakness in the charging soldiers was not the people, their weapons, or even the magical armor they suddenly wore. The strings of magic tied them back to Pyrida, who worked them like puppets.
He stepped closer to Pyrida to get a clear view between the man and his soldiers. A quick wave of his hand severed the magic --
And the strings swept around and attacked him.
Such a little trap to get him, or at least keep him busy so Pyrida could focus on Zorian, who must have looked like the more powerful of the two. Maybe he was, but that thought, along with falling for the trick, annoyed Rory.
Annoyance gave him focus.
Pyrida snarled in anger and glanced his way -- and that was the man's big mistake...
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