Sacrifice (Book 4) Read Online Free

lips of the men and women here this day! Their names will be holy. They will never be forgotten. Continue your oblations. Stand, Chertanne! Stand, Chalaine! Today is your victory!”
    Chertanne took her hand and turned toward Echo Hold to receive the adulation of the survivors. “I did it,” he told her, confidence and contentment blooming on his face for the first time in months as the praise and adoration washed over him. “At the end, it’s as if something took over and I did it!” The Chalaine didn’t answer, swallowing hard, frozen in panic. “Chalaine?” Chertanne questioned, perplexed by her demeanor, but the Chalaine just squeezed his hand and answered nothing.
    The jubilation died down, and Mikkik spoke. “Chertanne, will you enter into the rest I offer you?”
    Chertanne closed his eyes. “Yes, my master and my god.”
    Mikkik stretched forth his hands, a light gathering around her husband before he dissolved into thin air, to the amazement and delight of the onlooking soldiers. The Chalaine stepped backward, fearful and uncertain. Dason, standing proudly behind her, whispered, “Take me with you.”
    “Chalaine, will you enter into your rest?” Mikkik invited, voice affectionate and kind.
    “What have you done with my Child!” she managed to squeak barely loud enough for herself to hear. She could just detect the barest twitch of Mikkik’s brow and a brief hesitancy, but she knew all too well that she had failed, and now, she was finished.
     

Chapter 71 - Butchers Gap

    A moment after the Chalaine glanced at him from behind Mikkik’s illuminated form, Gen felt himself freed from the invisible bond that nailed him to the abominable throne. With his power stripped from him and with Mikkik between him and the Chalaine, few options presented themselves. He cast his gaze upward to the promontory, but saw no sign of Torbrand or Falael.
    Are they dead? Captured?
    The Chalaine, Chertanne, Mikkik, and Dason all had turned toward the battlements as the people cheered their “victory.”
    Then he saw it—the sword of Aldradan Mikmir. His sword. The sword Chertanne had killed the impostor with. The explosion had melted away the blade about halfway down, and the ragged tip still glowed white. While he couldn’t be certain the sword still possessed any of the virtue that had displayed itself so powerfully in destroying the warped creature, he had no other means with which to strike.
    As the cheering died down, he realized his dilemma. Everyone on the wall thought him a monster and a traitor. If anyone saw him move, they would alert Mikkik, and he wouldn’t get close enough to touch his enemy. He couldn’t believe that Mikkik would let Chertanne live, and as the dark god proffered the Ha’Ulrich transcendence and rest, Gen knew he had to act. The spectacular light gathering around the Ha’Ulrich provided the distraction he needed.
    Launching himself from the throne, he hit the ground at a dead sprint, slowing only slightly to scoop up the blade, hilt warm in his hands. Gen ran just behind the luminous figure of Mikkik, though he knew he had little cover. Mikkik offered the Chalaine her transcendence, the Chalaine said something in return, and then shouts of horror from the walls filled the air. Gen grinned. It was too late. Just as Mikkik started to turn, he lifted the blade high and rammed it into the small of Mikkik back. It sank in and stuck.
    Mikkik howled in agony, his aura fading as he shot backward into the air, as if pulled by a string, and disappeared over the mountain, leaving a stunned and horrified audience. “The Ilch!” someone screamed. Gen knew he had little time before the Padras would work their magic upon him.
    “Gen!” the Chalaine cried. “What has happened?”
    “Die, filth!” Dason yelled, stepping forward to strike. Gen stunned him with lightning fast punch to the throat and grabbed the Chalaine’s arm, pulling her to him and launching off the side of the extended bridge.