Ancient Allies (The Malvers War Book 2)

by Tora Moon

Blazel and Rizelya hurried to the Phengriff housing. They each carried a pack of food and a large waterskin. Blazel could feel the sweat dripping down his back even in the cool morning air. He loosened his winter coat, which Graak insisted they had to wear because as high as they would be flying the air would be freezing. When they arrived, the Phengriffs going with them were filling water bags from the fountain. Graak was wearing what looked like a modified saddle on his back, and so was the Phengriff who usually carried Rizelya.

  “Hello, Glork,” Rizelya said to the Phengriff. “Thank you for allowing me to be your passenger.”

  The brown and white Phengriff ducked his head and then crouched low for her.

  *It’s a long way to Shandir’s Crater,* Graak said. *This will be more comfortable for both of us.* He kneeled down and Blazel crawled onto his back and into the saddle. *Put on your hat and gloves. Where we are going it’ll be cold.*

  Blazel was relieved to see the thick lines he could grip attached to Graak’s collar. Broogk came over and directed both Blazel and Rizelya on how to strap themselves into the different saddles. By the time they were done, Blazel felt like a bird trussed up for roasting.

  Once Graak was assured everyone was ready to go, he gave the order to fly. As he leaped into the air, Blazel was thrown back, his head snapping, and then as Graak made a powerful downstroke of his wings, was thrown forward again. He reached for the straps and gripped them so tight his hands began to cramp.

  *Lay forward,* Graak suggested.

  Blazel did, and the jerking motions of Graak’s pumping wings smoothed. Graak climbed higher and the air grew colder; Blazel was glad to be wearing the thick fur. Below them the land passed quickly. The thin ribbon of Storengher River sparkled in the sun. In a matter of octars, they swept over Strunlair Keep. At noon, the Phengriffs spiraled down to the thick grass of the plains for a break.

  Blazel carefully slid off Graak, keeping a hold on the riding straps. When his feet touched the ground, his legs buckled. Riding a Phengriff was nothing like riding a horse. Blazel was sore in different places, and his arms ached from holding onto the leather strap. He glanced at Rizelya, who was groaning and shaking her arms and legs to get feeling back into them. Once he was steady on his feet, he dug out a piece of dried meat and chewed it while walking in circles. All too soon Graak called him back, ready to leave.

  The sun was low on the horizon when Graak began to descend again. He landed near the river just before it disappeared beneath the Barrens. The stark demarcation where the plains stopped and the Barrens began was evident by the black sand-glass glittering in the fading light. Blazel cleared the grass and carried rocks from the riverbank to build a fire ring. Rizelya had followed him to the river and found several large pieces of driftwood. Using his fire magic, they soon had a fire to push back the night.

  The river’s rocky shore wasn’t a comfortable place to sleep, but it provided fresh fish for the Phengriffs. Glork carried a large fish, still flopping wildly, in his beak, and dropped it next to Rizelya. He left before she could thank him. As she cooked the fish, Blazel stood looking at the Barrens. He remembered the windstorm that had buried him and his horse with black sand riddled with glass shards. He slept curled around Rizelya, her warmth chasing away the nightmares of his last crossing of the Barrens.

  The next morning, they flew into and over the Barrens. They had only flown a short time, when Rizelya cried out, her face white with fear, “Oh, Sweet Mother, no!”

  Blazel looked down to where she was pointing. Two janacks and six brechas were trundling out of the Barrens and into the plains. No warriors chased them, no Reds stopped them with their fire.

  “We can’t let them get away,” Rizelya said. “Glork, take me down.”

  Glork obeyed. Rizelya’s helbraught glowed with fire magic. A moment later a stream of fire burst from the blade and arced to surround a brecha, which burst into flame and quickly disintegrated into ash. Broogk screamed in anger, flames erupted around him, and he dove at a janack. The monster instinctively reached out a tentacle to yank him from the sky, then jerked away from the heat, but not before fire engulfed the tentacle and raced toward the bulbous body. Screeching Phengriffs dove and darted at the monsters, and in half an octar all the monsters were smoking piles of ash. Graak overflew his warriors, making sure that no monsters had escaped the carnage. A breeze sent the ashes back into the Barrens.

  They flew on in large sweeping circles. Less than an octar later, a plume of dust alerted them to something moving quickly across the sand. As they neared, Blazel saw it was another group of monsters. He searched but couldn’t see any fighters on the ground. He felt useless, unable to fight the monsters with tooth and claw like he normally did. Before he could ask Graak to let him off so he could fight on the ground, the monsters were dead.

  *We haven’t fought this type of monster before,* Graak said, winging higher. *This is good practice for us.*

  “But it’s difficult for me to sit and just watch,” Blazel grumbled.

  Rizelya gave him rueful smile. “Since you aren’t focused on fighting, your job is to make sure none of them escape.”

  “I can do that. But I don’t like this. Something is wrong. When I crossed here before, the guard-packs were all over the monsters—”

  “We’re a long way from the crater—”

  “Rizelya, that didn’t matter. They chased them until they caught them.”

  Her eyebrows crinkled in worry.

  After flying twenty more measures and fighting three more battles, without a single fighting-pack on the ground, even the Phengriffs were concerned. Blazel’s heart thundered in his chest as Graak flew to the northern fortress, where he’d met the Strunlair guard-pack.

  The gate hung open and there weren’t any sentries standing on the wall. An eerie silence filled the fortress even before they landed.

  “No, no, no!” Rizelya fumbled out of her saddle harness. “Maheli! Rolstrun! Bohandran! Where are you?” She ran into the Keep-House, with Blazel on her heels.

  The only sound was their boots echoing off the stone floors. Small holes in the walls, and the overturned furniture pointed to a struggle having been fought. But there weren’t any bodies, until they went into the stables. A few horses had escaped, but those caught in their stalls had been killed. Whatever had killed them had left only dried husks behind. Blazel ran outside and heaved. Who would kill horses?

  They found the same thing at the other fortresses. With heavy hearts, Graak led his flight back up to the upper atmosphere, where they could catch the thermals and rest. Then they flew farther south. From their height, Blazel could clearly see the wound in the earth that was Shandir’s Crater. An ugly, oblong object squatted on its rim. He gasped at the size of it.

  Graak sent Baekeek, a fast-flying owl-type scout, down to the crater, while they continued to circle high above it.

  *There’s activity in the center,* Graak explained, his long-distance sight much better than Blazel’s.

  The scout circled the crater once before he dove. Blazel gripped the riding strap as he waited, his fingers hurting with the pressure.

  Suddenly, there were loud pops, and with a screech Baekeek zipped out of the crater, his flames extending several feet away from him. As he gained altitude toward where the rest waited, he began to wobble and his flames sizzled out. Two of the larger Phengriffs dove and came up under the injured scout, supporting him with their wings. Graak began to descend.

  “No! His injury will get infected if we land in the Barrens,” Blazel said.

  Graak grumbled, and with a squawk directed the others to keep flying and to stay together. They caught a thermal that carried them quickly out of the Barrens. Blazel kept looking behind them, afraid of pursuit. He didn’t relax his vigilance until they were back at the edge of the Barrens, where the black sand-glass met scraggly bushes.

  It took a few moments to unhook himself from the riding harness, and by the time Blazel was off, the injured scout was keening in pain. His
left wing was covered in blood where something had punctured a hole in it, and the feathers around the wound were scorched. Graak padded over to him and poured water over the wound, washing away the blood. Now Blazel could see the scout’s flaring had sealed the wound’s edges, although blood still oozed from its center. Baekeek screeched as Graak examined the injury.

  Grimacing, Blazel stepped away from the injured scout.

  His feet took him to the edge of the Barrens, and he scuffed the toe of his boot into the black sand. He heard the crunch of grass behind him, and a moment later Rizelya threaded her arms around him and laid her head against his back. He pulled her hands tights against his chest.

  “How can we fight these invaders when they’re able to shoot a Phengriff from the sky?” Blazel said.

  “We’ll find a way. We’ve survived the Malvers monsters, we can survive against this.” She scooted around until she was facing him and wrapped in his arms. “Perhaps the fire shield will stop whatever it is that shot the scout. It worked with the baethor.”

  Blazel held her for a long time, staring out at the Barrens. His gaze swept to the boundary that marked life and death. He squinted, trying to make sense of what his eyes were telling him. He let go of Rizelya and crouched down to get a better look. Still confused, he followed the beaten, compacted glass for several paces into the Barrens until he stood on an outcropping of petrified wood. From this vantage point, he turned around and gasped. Jumping off the rock, he raced back to where the scrub lands started, where the crushed bushes indicated a large party had camped. Frowning, he continued to follow the signs of a trail leading back into the scrublands. He could hear Rizelya pacing behind him.

  The trail took them to a wash where the dirt showed the passage of many feet but no horses. Paralleling that was a deep track from something he’d never seen before. Whatever made it had three toes, with the middle toe longer than the others. The trail led deeper into the scrub. He hadn’t paid much attention to where they were when Graak landed, but the scrubland told him they were in Posanlair Territory. He stood and stared at the trail.

  “What’s wrong?” Rizelya asked

  “A large group of people were herded through here. And see here.” He pointed to the strange track. “This must be an invaders’ print. There’s a minor keep in the direction the tracks are coming from.”

  “Warrior take them!” Rizelya swore. “We have to go and find the survivors.” She turned to run back to the Phengriffs.

  He reached out a hand and stopped her. “We’ll have to wait until morning. By the time we get back up in the air, it will be too dark.”

  She glared at the setting sun and swore again, then walked back.

  Blazel looked at the tracks once more before following her, and shook his head. He didn’t think there would be anyone left at the keep.

  That night, they didn’t light any fires afraid they’d be seen by the invaders.

  * * *

  Early the next morning, Graak had the group in the air as soon as it was light enough to fly. After the night’s rest, Baekeek could fly, although not far or fast. Once in the air, Rizelya could clearly see the trail made by the marching Posairs. There was only one place in the Barrens the invaders could be taking the people from the keep: the crater. Rizelya’s small group was designed for scouting and quick movement. They didn’t have enough people to fight the invaders and rescue the people taken, especially since the invaders had weapons that could injure a Phengriff in flight. Instead they backtracked along the trail toward the keep, hoping to find any survivors, and to learn more about the invaders.

  A measure from the Barrens, she saw a body sprawled on the ground. Dread made her mouth dry when they landed to checked on it. Blazel carefully turned the dry and desiccated body over. Her hand flew over her mouth when she saw terror frozen on the young man’s face. On closer examination, a strange wound marred his chest and the body had been drained of blood. Using her helbraught, Rizelya burned the body.

  The trail to Posanreande Keep was littered with bodies. After checking the first few, and finding they all had the same wounds, they couldn’t bring themselves to look at every body. Rizelya insisted on burning all the bodies they found so their souls could return to the Mother.

  When they arrived at the keep, scorch marks blackened the gates, which were hanging lopsidedly on their hinges. Rizelya scrambled off Glork’s back, with Blazel following her a moment later.

  A strange quiet blanketed the keep. No children ran in the streets. No women bustled around houses or in the fields. No men guarded the gates. Blazel shifted to his warrior form, lifted his muzzle, and choked. Even Rizelya could smell the stink of death. They stalked into the Keep. The bodies of half a dozen men lay sprawled on the cobblestones. Multiple holes were burned into their bodies, but when Blazel turned them over, they lacked the strange wounds on their chests and necks.

  Blazel stooped and checked something on the ground, then stood back up. He inhaled deeply and shook his head. *Something died here and was moved, but I can’t tell what it was. The only thing I can smell is death.*

  She nodded and they continued into the keep. Behind them Graak motioned to the Phengriffs, who spread out and began to search the buildings. Clearly no danger remained in the keep, and Blazel shifted back to his natural form.

  Rizelya and Blazel jogged to the Clan-house to search for the Keep Alphas. Inside, a Red sprawled in the foyer, her helbraught still gripped in her hands. A man, still in his warrior form, had purple splotches covering his hands. There were signs of struggles, as though people had been taken out of their beds.

  They checked the other houses, all showing signs of fighting, but thankfully no more dead. Their luck changed when they reached the infirmary, and they found the corpses of two fighters and an old man still in their sickbeds, gaping holes in their chests like the other victims they’d found.

  “These invaders are inhuman, to kill the sick and injured,” Rizelya said, choking back the tears. The only good thing in all of this is they hadn’t seen the bodies of any children.

  Shaken, she and Blazel trudged to the stables, hoping they wouldn’t see the same thing they had at the fortresses. She let out a sigh of relief when she didn’t see any bodies. Blazel paced through the barn to the pasture and stopped at the gate.

  “They’re here. How could they do such a thing?” His head drooped and his shoulders shook.

  Rizelya really didn’t want to see what would cause Blazel to break down, but her feet carried her to stand next to him. A horse lay dead, drained of blood, just like the Posairs they had found on the trail. The pasture was littered with the lumps of more dead horses.

  “What could be the purpose of killing the horses?” she choked out.

  Blazel shrugged and wiped at his eyes. “To keep them from escaping?”

  Tears streaming down her face, they left the stables and regrouped with the Phengriffs in the main courtyard.

  “Did you find anything?” Blazel asked.

  *Only death,* Graak said, his eyes bleak. *Even the sheep were killed or taken.*

  “I didn’t see any bodies of the invaders,” Rizelya said. “Surely our people would have killed some of them.”

  “I found signs in the courtyard where something had died,” Blazel said, “but the body had been moved. It appears they took any of their wounded or dead. Too bad they did. It’d be helpful to study our enemies.”

  *Have you seen enough?* Graak said. *This place makes me feel ill. Can we return to the Sanctuary?*

  Rizelya looked around the keep, feeling sorrow for those who had died along with anger at the invaders who had taken her people. “We know they aren’t here for peaceful purposes. The Supreme must know what we’ve discovered and so must everyone else. I swear they will pay for this.”

  “Yes, they will.” Blazel put his hand on her shoulder. “They will pay for every death they cause.”

  Rizelya could do one thing for the Keep’s dead. Their bodies needed to be burned
to allow their souls to return to the Mother’s Womb. As she directed Blazel and the Phengriffs to gather all the dead, she hoped that they weren’t too late and that the souls of the dead hadn’t begun to wander as ghosts. She wished Chariel had come with them so she could guide any lost souls to the other side. It was late afternoon when she fired the pyres. She was saddened she couldn’t perform the traditional ritual of giving their names to the Goddess as they burned.

  *We must go,* Graak said. *Moraak and the Supreme needs our information as soon as possible.*

  Rizelya nodded and turned away from the pyre. She rubbed her face to dash away her tears. She was a warrior and had seen death before. But these people hadn’t deserved to die like this. And these were just the first to die because of the invaders. She shuddered at the thought.

  Drained, she climbed onto Glork’s back and numbly tied herself into the riding saddle. She kept her eyes on the ground, hoping against hope that someone had escaped.

  “Glork! Glork, go down.” She tapped his shoulder, and when he turned his head to her, she pointed. “There’s someone running. Well, stumbling.”

  *I see them.*

  Glork dove, and Rizelya held tight onto the riding straps. As Glork opened his wings to land, she was already working at the buckles. Glork landed softly a few feet in front of the person whose head was down and moved as if they were terrified beyond their endurance. Rizelya dropped off Glork before he had a chance to crouch for her. The stumbling person looked up as her feet thudded to the hard ground and she grunted. The person screamed and cowered on the ground, arms over their head.

  The terrified bundle resolved into a young girl about ten summers old. “Shh … shh … It’s all right. You’re safe now.” Rizelya knelt and pulled the girl to her shoulder, murmuring soothingly and lightly rubbing the girl’s back. When the girl stopped shaking, Rizelya pushed back so she could see her. “I’m Rizelya de Strunland. Who are you?”

  The girl looked over Rizelya’s shoulder and saw Glork. She screamed and flung herself back onto Rizelya.