Excerpt of In Legend Born by Laura Resnick

The trail was long, uneven, and rough. Tansen had come to Darshon once before, in his childhood. In the succeeding years, he had forgotten what a hard climb this was. Pink, peach, brown, and black lava flows, the remnants of Dar's many tantrums, coiled, curled, rolled, and braided into a thousand tangled shapes, and he had to pick his way through or climb over them all. He passed through what had once been a forest. The trees had been incinerated, their trunks covered by flying chunks of lava. Now they squatted beneath Darshon's snowy summit like great, lumpy trolls; as a child, he had believed every story inspired by these monstrous visions crouching on the mountainside.

There were no trees higher up. Higher still, even the shrubs and plants grew scarce. The lava took on fantastic and incredible shapes as thick clouds slid down the mountain's slopes to meet him. He passed geysers of boiling water shooting angrily into the air, warning him away from the goddess's domain. Warm pools of water where the zanareen liked to bathe were now completely deserted, as were all the huts, tents, and caves that he passed. The zanareen were all up there. With Josarian.

Fear churned in Tan's belly. Fear for his bloodbrother, who was about to jump to his death. Fear for himself, for Dar would not welcome him here. Everywhere he looked, he saw evidence of what Dar could do on an angry rampage. She was the destroyer goddess, not some soft-hearted foreign deity who could be placated with a few generous bribes. She was a goddess of fire and fury, and he had offended Her sorely, murdering his own bloodfather, slaying the man he had believed to be the Firebringer. And now Tansen was coming to deny Dar the one man whom many believed She wanted more than any other.

He climbed past rocks shaped like crescent moons, like loaves of bread, like dancing girls frozen in time. He climbed past lava flows which hideously suggested gigantic parts of human bodies. He passed bubbling lava pools, rocks glowing with heat, and streams created by heat- melted snow. His once-fine Moorlander boots sank ankle- deep as he climbed powdery cinder cones. He fell several times in his haste, cutting himself on sharp fragments as the ground crumbled beneath him. Blood from a cut on his forehead temporarily blinded him, but he wiped it away and kept on going. Higher up, great splits in the earth revealed gooey-looking purple and yellow innards, rich and bristly with crystals sharp enough to drive through a man's heart.

The air grew thinner as he went even higher, making his lungs ache and his head spin, slowing him down. It was cold now, so cold. He was nearly there, though. Just a little further. And then he could stop Josarian.

Suddenly the ground split open before him. The crack widened into a huge rent before he could leap across it. Wisps of steam arose from the earth's wound, clotting swiftly into a column of thick yellow smoke. The poisonous miasma choked him, forcing him backwards.

"Dar!" he shouted. He had stopped praying to the goddess the night he killed Armian, but he addressed Her now: "I will stop him!"

The black interior of the earth melted into bright red. The lava smelled like blood and was hotter than fire. It pushed apart the crack, widening the gulf between him and Josarian. The skin-charring heat drove him further back. Molten rocks began spurting into the air, chunks of yellow and orange fire leaping out at him, driving him back down the slope up which he had just come.

"Dar!" he screamed. "You'll have to kill me first if You want him!"

But he was only a man, and She was a goddess. His swords, his training, and his skills were useless again Her. Even his courage meant nothing in the face of Her power. Yellow smoke poured out of the fresh wound in the mountain, its acrid scent stinging his nostrils. It filled his throat, choking him, strangling him.

"Josarian..." he rasped.

He coughed, his chest burning. The pain and lack of air drove him to his knees. He struggled against Dar, but She was stronger. He had finally found a greater opponent.

He gasped for air, unable to move, unable to breathe, eyes watering until he couldn't see. And he knew his destiny had caught up with him at last. He would fail.

He suddenly thought of her. He'd never see her again. The intensity of his sorrow shocked him, sweeping through him without warning.

"Mira..."

Mirabar, the demon girl, plunging through the waters of Kandahar in a ball of fire to face Kiloran himself...

He heard the rumble of the volcano overhead. Dar was gloating as She destroyed him.

"No..."

The bitter gall of his defeat burned his chest, sucked away his strength. He would fail. Dar would have Her revenge on him at last. Josarian would die. The rebellion would crumble. Dar had wanted him to die knowing this.

He tried to push himself to his feet. The ground crumbled away beneath his hand. A chunk of molten rock set his sleeve on fire and scorched his arm. Head spinning wildly, he fell backwards as he tried to get away from the clinging pain. Far above him, at the summit of the mountain, Dar rumbled victoriously, having vanquished Her foe.

* * * * *

Every sensation faded into insignificance under the onslaught of Dar's summons. Josarian could feel the hot, smooth rock baking the soles of his feet. He could hear the ecstatic wailing of the zanareen. His body quivered from the exquisite heat rising from the lava lake directly below him. His naked flesh shivered against the scintillating chill sweeping across the mountaintop.

Yet all these sensations were as nothing compared to the soul-shaking power of Her ardent call. The zanareen had kept him isolated for days, alternately sweating beside a small lava pool then immersing himself in an icy stream. He had fasted according to their traditions, consuming nothing except the mind-spinning tisanes Jalan brought him. Hunger, cold, heat, pain... They meant nothing to him anymore. For days, he had felt nothing except this intense longing for Her, yet they had kept him from Her.

Day and night, he heard nothing but Her beckoning. Never asleep or fully awake, he felt nothing but the insistent pull of Her yearning. There was no hunger in him except his consuming need for Her. He could almost smell Her on his skin, almost taste Her on his tongue. Fire and brimstone, lava and heat, earth and sky...

Man and goddess, joining as one.

They had waited until now to let him go to Her, waited until they were sure he thought of nothing else, remembered nothing else, knew no need, desire, or ambition other than embracing Dar. As long as he remembered or cherished any portion or particle of his life, She would not have him, for She was a jealous goddess. Only now, when he knew nothing but this craving, remembered nothing of his life before coming to Her, only now was he worthy. Only now would She accept him.

He raised his arms overhead, surrendering to Her. She rumbled and roared in triumph, reaching out to him, welcoming him. Her heat rose from the lava lake to wrap around him, caressing him, coaxing him forward. Head reeling, heart pounding, he gave himself up and went to Her. He arched his back luxuriantly, then soared forward into space, tumbling into Her embrace. He heard a distant screeching, but it was so faint, lost in the fiery thunder of Dar's welcome.