The Rifts of Psyche Kyle West (inspirational books for women TXT) 📖

but a dead end. And your death should you refuse to comply.”

Lucian sought to Bind him, but the Orb was not behaving as it should. He wanted to scream in frustration. There were dozens of soldiers above now, including robed mages bearing shockspears. Against all that, the four of them didn’t stand a chance.

If they wanted to escape with their lives, surrender was the only option.

“You led us on a merry chase,” the Mage-Lord said. “But it’s over. Surrender, and you can keep your lives.”

A series of light spheres, blindingly bright, floated over the canyon. If they wanted to resist, they would have to see beyond that brilliance, or Fergus would have to ward the light of an unknown number of Radiant mages. Neither prospect seemed likely.

“Stand down,” Lucian said.

“They’ll kill us all if we go with them!” Cleon said. “We should go down with a fight.”

Lucian shook his head. “I don’t want to be responsible for your deaths. They only want me.”

Everyone looked at Fergus, whose expression had gone dark. “This is my fault. I trusted that scoundrel.”

“You had no choice,” Cleon said. “We would have died without his help.”

What Lucian didn’t understand was why Osric was helping the Queen in the first place. What had she promised him?

They were questions that would have to go unanswered – at least for now.

“What say you?” called down the Mage-Lord. “I haven’t the time to bandy words.”

“We surrender,” Lucian said, “but if you don’t agree to spare our lives, we’ll fight to the death.”

“If we wanted to kill you, we would have done so already,” the man said. “The Queen wants you alive, Lucian.”

That the man already knew his name was proof that all those dreams were real. It made Lucian’s blood go cold.

“I’ll only come if you let my friends go. They have nothing to do with this.”

“All of you shall come,” the Mage-Lord said. “That is non-negotiable.”

Osric had the audacity to stand next to the man above, like a loyal dog coming to heel.

“I hope you’re proud of yourself,” Lucian said.

“I do what’s best for me and my people,” he said. “Soon, my people will be living in the sun.”

“Fool,” Fergus said. “As if the Queen will honor that promise.”

Cleon’s face was seething. He stared balefully upward at the Mage-Lord he’d sworn to kill. What had his name been, Kiani? Indeed, it seemed like the same man who had attacked them in the Greenrift from his hulking frame alone.

Serah still seemed to be in a state of shock, the new reality not registering.

“Will you come peacefully?” the Mage-Lord asked.

Everyone turned to Lucian for direction. Why was he the leader, now? It was supposed to be Fergus. He sighed. He didn’t want this responsibility. And he didn’t want this rotting, useless Orb. Now more than ever, he didn’t believe the Queen’s words about him being the Chosen, about how she wanted to only help him. Likely, as soon as they were face-to-face, she would kill him and take his Orb.

But there was always the chance she was actually telling the truth, however remote. The idea of having her help was distasteful, but at least some of the burden would be off his shoulders. And he would accept that help in a heartbeat if it meant everyone staying alive.

There was only one way to find out if she was telling the truth. But it certainly didn’t feel good to rely on the mercy of someone who probably didn’t give it often.

“No deaths,” Lucian said. “If you so much as slap one of my friends, there will be nothing peaceful about this.”

The Mage-Lord above nodded. “I’m not unreasonable. Your fate is for the Queen to decide.”

“Sounds promising,” Serah said.

“We’ve got no choice,” Fergus said.

Lucian knew he was right. “So, how are we going to do this?”

“First, you must consent to being blocked. And you are to forfeit your weapons.”

“Rot that,” Cleon breathed.

“These are our terms,” the Mage-Lord said. “There is no other way.”

“I’ll tell you the truth,” Cleon said, only loud enough for the four of them to hear. “If we go on that ship, the Queen will get the Orb by hook or by crook. She has her own agenda, and I want no part of it. If it means death right now, then I’m willing to die.”

“Don’t be foolish,” Serah said. “If you die, then you’ll be leaving the rest of us to suffer at her whims.”

“My point exactly. It’s better to go down fighting than to become the Sorceress-Queen’s puppet. I lived that life once. Never again.”

“I need your decision,” the Mage-Lord above said. “My patience wears thin.”

Lucian knew there was only one right answer. Fighting to the death only guaranteed the Orb fell out of his hands. The Sorceress-Queen must have been completely sure of Mage-Lord Kiani’s effectiveness and loyalty.

Or she simply trusted in the realization of her prophecy. That she would lead him, the Chosen, to the Orb of Psionics and guide him on his path to find the rest.

“We’ll come,” Lucian said. “We agree to those terms. But no one gets hurt.”

Cleon shot him a look of betrayal, while Serah merely looked disappointed. Fergus hung his head, his shoulders stooped.

“Block them,” Mage-Lord Kiani said.

At that moment, Lucian felt a curious prickling at his mind, along with Psionic Magic wrapping around the hands of several of the mages above. Serah recoiled as if slapped, while Cleon let out a frustrated shout. Fergus only ground his teeth, giving a deathlike stare.

And just like that, Lucian no longer detected his ether. A shell of Psionic Magic had formed around his Focus, impossible to penetrate. They were completely at the mages’ mercy.

The mages and soldiers climbed down into the canyon. They forced Lucian to hand over everything – his pack, his spear, even his canteen, until nothing was left but the clothes on his back. Even then, he was patted down by two bearded guards wearing conical bronze helmets. Once done, the guards stood back, and nodded at the Mage-Lord,