The Hunter's Gambit

by Nicholas McIntire

  “Jonas?”

  The Prince saw his Knight’s eyes widen, fear flashing across their bond. He turned sharply.

  His blood ran cold.

  The corpse of the Guardsman had changed. In place of the boy’s body, a beast of horn and bone rose from the water and Jonas found himself staring into the face of a nightmare.

  Water poured from the hard, boney projections that erupted from where the mouth should be and dripped from its clawed hands. It looked at the two men with eyes that glowed with a faint, sickly yellow light, as though trying to discern what they were. Then it lurched forward unsteadily.

  Aleksei reacted instantly, lifting his sword in one smooth motion and darting forward, thrusting his blade to the hilt in the creature’s belly.

  It didn’t even flinch.

  The Knight kicked up with his boot and broke the creature’s neck, but that only halted it for a moment. It looked at Aleksei with those murky, soulless eyes and lunged for his arm.

  Jonas brushed past Aleksei and grasped the hilt of the sword, protruding uselessly from the monster’s stomach. He clutched the Archanium tightly and took half a second to search the malevolent echoes saturating the tunnel for the spell he wanted. Then he gripped the whorl of vermillion and fear he required.

  Jonas was hurled away from the creature with the force of the explosion. He landed on his back in the muck and looked up in time to see the corpse shiver in the air for a split second before bursting into a cloud of quicksilver.

  A moment later it vanished, sinking into the walls of the tunnel.

  Jonas helped Aleksei to his feet and handed him his sword, “I think it’s time we left.”

  CHAPTER 22

  The Unseen Hand

  ILYANA OPENED HER red-rimmed eyes and stared at the door.

  “Ilyana?”

  It was Hade.

  “Ilyana? Are you in there?”

  She clutched tighter to Marrik, hiding her face against his powerful chest. She didn’t want to see Hade. She didn’t want to see anyone. Why couldn’t they understand that? Why couldn’t they just leave her alone?

  “Ilyana, I need to talk to you.”

  Marrik gently slid his Magus from his lap and stood. She raised a hand beseechingly, trying to halt him, but she didn’t have the strength to voice it.

  The massive Knight reached the door and pulled it open silently. He slipped from the room and for a moment she could hear him speak in that low, dangerous tone he reserved for the most dire occasions.

  She had only heard him talk like that once before, months ago. It had landed him in the dungeon for a week.

  Outside her window, she could hear the sounds of children being called into the house by their mothers. Life in Drava, with few exceptions, seemed to be continuing unabated. But the laughter of those children sent a flood of horrifying memories rushing through her head again.

  It had taken weeks to travel down to the little wooding village. Weeks for the beasts to feed on the villagers, despite men from the garrison in Mornj arriving to keep the beasts at bay.

  She had spent those weeks of travel wondering what they would encounter when they finally arrived. But nothing had prepared her for this.

  His hand had been so fragile, so thin. The blood in his hair had been so thick that the source of the wound was impossible to distinguish from the rest of his tattered scalp. And yet through all of it he held onto his smile. For her. She had asked him to smile for her, and he had.

  Until the end.

  The sobbing overcame her again, and then Marrik was there, gathering her up in his arms and whispering the empty platitudes that somehow made things seem a little better.

  “He was so young.” she whimpered against his chest. “Six summers, Marrik. Six! What could do that to an innocent little boy?”

  It seemed Marrik had discovered no answers in the few minutes he had left her side, but that didn’t stop her from voicing the question again. It was simply one of the many things she simply could not understand and for which someone, anyone owed her an explanation.

  If the gods were so powerful, then how could They allow this sort of thing to happen? That had become one of her favorites in the last hour or so.

  “You can’t heal everyone, Ilyana.” Hade had said at the time, apparently trying to console her.

  “But we should.” she had whispered back, and she believed that now more than ever. What good was having power if she couldn’t do anything with it.

  In the end, the most she was able to do for these people was to take their pain and make their journey into the Aftershadow as smooth as possible.

  Before the burning.

  “Stupid tradition.” she muttered to herself. “Silly, stupid tradition.”

  Marrik nodded gravely, having discovered hours before what she meant.

  The people of Drava were a superstitious lot, and the bite of a beast was believed to be infectious. After all, if these were the village woodcutters returned as nightmares, what was to say that those they attacked wouldn’t transform into abominations as well?

  “Though there was no proof that the dead would actually rise twisted and changed, the citizens of Drava were taking no chances. Every body was burned within an hour of death.

  And so the boy, like so many others, had been pulled from Ilyana’s helpless arms and dragged to the bonfires to join the other hapless or foolish townsfolk who had been caught outside on the cusp of day.

  “But we’ll get our revenge, won’t we Marrik?” she whispered.

  “Of course.” he said, stroking her hair. She could feel his conviction through their bond and it brought her a small measure of comfort.

  Many changes had come over Ilyana in the year since her imprisonment, and Marrik had had trouble adjusting to the woman she had become. But she knew he was having difficulty reconciling the idea of Ilyana the healer and Ilyana the fighter.

  There was another knock at the door and she heard Marrik growl in irritation.

  “Ilyana?”

  She sat up in surprise. Rather than Hade’s pleading whine, as she had expected, the Magus Daro stood on the other end of the door, sounding more desperate than anything.

  Marrik looked at her questioningly, but Ilyana nodded, “Open the door, Marrik. Something must be troubling him or he wouldn’t be here. I can’t turn my back on the others, even if they’ve turned from me.”

  Marrik’s jaw clenched, but he opened the door.

  Behind Daro, Ilyana was surprised to see the Magi Rada and Bel.

  “May we come in?” Daro asked uncertainly.

  Ilyana nodded, “Please.”

  The three Magi stepped into the room, glancing cautiously at Marrik. Judging by the look he was directing at them, Ilyana wasn’t entirely surprised.

  “What can I do for you?”

  Daro looked back at the other two before clearing his throat. He seemed on the verge of tears. “Vadim is leading a charge tonight. The Lord Captain sent him with strict orders about engaging the creatures, but Vadim wants to take the fight to them. We've never had to do anything like this before.”

  “So what does that have to do with me?”

  Daro glanced at the other two Magi nervously before bowing his head. “Please, Ilyana, teach us fire.”

  Byron leaned heavily against his pike, staring out into the darkness of the Relvyn Wood. It was well past midnight, yet so far there had been no sign of the creatures.

  According to the townsfolk there should have been at least one sighted around sunset, yet there had been nothing so much as a glimmer of movement behind the tree line. Several Legionnaires had abandoned their vigil and sat grouped around the campfire, their attention riveted to the game of Stone Tower being played out between a sentry and Lieutenant Michals.

  He sighed, wanting very badly to join his friends by the fire. He glanced back to the forest.

  “L…Lieutenant Michals?” he said uncertainly, realizing a m
oment later that he had merely whispered. “Michals!” he barked, turning his head sharply in the direction of the fire.

  But the men weren’t looking at him. Their faces were instead focused on the figures moving haltingly through the trees. In the firelight, their faces became pale and frightened mockeries of the men he knew.

  Michals was the first to break free of the trance that had ensnared them. “Sound the alarm!” he roared. Byron turned on his heel and dashed to the post that suspended the great brass signal bell.

  At the frantic ringing, lights appeared in the windows of the homes and the inn. Byron could see figures bustling about in front of the windows, some peering out fearfully, others dashing to dress and rush outside.

  “Form up, men!” Michals shouted, grasping a pike and staring into the night.

  Byron followed his gaze and felt his blood turn to ice. The creatures had not advanced much yet, but it was the sheer volume of them that terrified Byron. He had imagined there would be fifteen or twenty at the most. Yet now more than fifty lurching forms moved towards them. His grip tightened on his pike and he set his jaw.

  There was a rush of air next to him and he turned to see the Archanium Knight Vadim ride up on his impressive roan stallion.

  “How long have they been advancing, soldier?” the Knight called down.

  “I only just saw them a few minutes ago, Sir.”

  Vadim nodded, narrowing his eyes at the approaching wave. He turned and began barking orders. “Legionnaires, form up into lancet position around the Magi. Knights, to the vanguard. Magi, hold back until I give the signal.”

  Byron hurried alongside the rest of the men to form up into a lancet, holding his pike outward in a defensive position and glancing nervously around.

  The Magi sat atop their horses, conversing quietly and appearing oblivious to the approaching wave of the bizarre beasts. The Knights had already grouped ahead of the Legionnaires, and even now they had begun their charge.

  Byron watched in horrified fascination as several of the Knights’ mounts were immediately pulled down by the beasts. He watched the creatures reach up and wrap their claws around the necks of the horses with horrifying speed.

  The Knights hacked at the horn-armored arms. And the moment the creatures gripped the horses, they began to bite, to scrape. Byron caught sight of one of the beasts, its face and chest smeared with blood and bits of fur before it was trampled with a horrifically loud crunch.

  Yet for every beast crushed or hacked apart by the Knights, ten more swelled in replacement, claws and mouths eager for both horse and man alike. One of the Knights was pulled from his horse and immediately set upon by the creatures. Several of the others had turned to help free their fallen comrade when Byron heard an ear-splitting scream from behind him. He turned to see one of the Magi fall limply from her mount and strike the earth with a sickening thud, blood drooling from her mouth.

  He felt a hand on his shoulder and jumped, turning to see another Magus standing behind him. Her clear blue eyes blazed, “Let me through.”

  Though he had been given strict orders to guard the Magi, Byron wasn’t so much of a fool as to bar the path of a Magus. He stepped aside hastily, watching in confusion as she marched unarmed towards the melee.

  Ilyana gritted her teeth to keep from screaming. The panic within her had welled up far beyond her normal ability to cope but she could not lose control now.

  To give in would mean death.

  “Gods be with me.” she murmured under her breath, reaching into the Archanium and gripping the swirl of dark color that passed before her vision.

  A blossom of fire leapt from her hand and consumed the beast that was grappling with Marrik. Her Knight jumped backwards in surprise as his opponent burst into flame. He looked around wildly before spotting her a few paces away.

  With a new look of determination, Marrik swung his bastard sword and cut the flaming creature in two before leaping over the burning remains and rushing to her side.

  “What are you doing out here?” he demanded angrily.

  “My part.” Ilyana snapped back, turning and sending forth another blossom of fire.

  This time the creature turned from Vadim and began lurching towards the Legionnaires.

  “You shouldn’t risk yourself like this!” Marrik said angrily.

  “So I should be like Rada, then? I don’t fancy dropping dead in my saddle, thank you.”

  Marrik turned as the flaming monster neared them. He stepped forward and swung his sword. But a moment before the sword should have cleared the beast’s head from its shoulders, it leapt back. Marrik was caught off balance by the failure to make contact and in that moment the beast darted in, grasping the Knight’s shoulder and sinking an impossibly sharp claw into him.

  Marrik grunted in pain and groped for his belt knife.

  Ilyana screamed as the flames burning the body of the beast caught Marrik’s half cloak and began to travel menacingly up his back. She could barely think to reach into the Archanium and extinguish the flames from both her Knight and the monster.

  Marrik kicked the creature back and swung his sword again, aiming lower this time. The blade removed the creature’s top half and it fell to the ground, still trying to pull itself feebly towards them.

  Marrik grunted in disgust and brought his boot down heavily on the monster’s head, crushing it and forcing the body to still.

  “Come on, I’ve got to get you back to the….” Marrik began, but as he looked up his voice trailed away.

  Ilyana turned swiftly and felt her heart stagger. The neat formation had shattered. Here and there men in ragged groups tried to fend off the creatures, without much success.

  Of the remaining Magi, she noted that another body had now joined Rada’s on the ground. Bel and Daro were trying to assist the Legionnaires, though their attempts at fire were not having much effect. Only Hade hung back uncertainly, his eyes wide and fearful as he observed the battle taking place before him.

  She turned back to Marrik to find him engaged with two more of the beasts. Her eyes widened as she saw for the first time the true extent of the damage to his shoulder. She could feel his exhaustion through their bond and a cold feeling settled in her stomach. He couldn’t last much longer. And if he fell….

  “Fall back!” she shouted to him. “Marrik, fall back!”

  If he heard her, Marrik didn’t respond. He kept swinging his sword one-armed, each swipe forcing the beasts to take a step back before they advanced another three.

  It was becoming harder and harder to lift his sword, and she knew that in a matter of minutes they would be on him, claws and fangs biting into him until he was torn apart.

  In a surge of desperation, Ilyana reached into the Archanium and threw the most powerful shield she knew around Marrik. When he lashed out with his sword again, it clattered harmlessly off the invisible boundaries of the spell and fell from his hand.

  “Ilyana!” he roared in anger, but she seized the opportunity to dart forward and grab his good arm. With all her strength she dragged him back towards the village.

  It was only when they reached the nearest wall of the inn that Ilyana looked out onto the clearing between the town and the forest. The beasts were reluctantly retreating towards the trees.

  She wondered whether they could feel victory or if something entirely different was calling them back. Her eyes returned to the field and her breath caught in her throat. Of the command, only a handful of Magi, including Vadim himself, remained. Hade was helping his Knight gather the bodies of the dead and pile them in the center of the field.

  Ilyana regarded it all dispassionately. Later she would weep for the men and women who had given their lives, who had fought so bravely for the people of Drava.

  For now, she could not summon the energy her tears demanded. She clutched her bleeding Knight and helped him towards the inn, ignoring the gruesome work taking place in the field behind her.

&n
bsp; Vadim had lost those lives, no one else. Let the blood be on his hands.

  Aya’s fingers dug into the soft arms of the chair. Her eyes were screwed shut, as though she could block the images flashing before them. A thin trail of tears traced a path down her cheeks. Every now and then, she would let out a pathetic whimper.

  Jonas imagined it closer to a scream she couldn’t articulate.

  He sat back in his own chair, ignoring the scathing glare he was receiving from Aya’s Knight, Raefan. Archanium Knights disliked seeing their Magi in pain as a rule, and Raefan disliked Jonas even more for causing it. Even if he was only indirectly responsible.

  But for the information Aya could give him, Jonas was more than willing to risk Raefan’s ire.

  Behind him, Aleksei leaned casually against a bookshelf, his eyes averted from the agony being visited upon Aya. Instead he tried to focus on something outside the window, which was difficult enough in the darkness, even without the whimpering coming from the woman in the chair.

  “No!” she screamed, “No, get off him!”

  She sat up and her eyes flew open, green-gold irises glowing brilliantly for a moment. Aya gasped and slumped back in the chair, free from her vision. Tears poured from her eyes as she stared past Jonas in shock.

  He disliked asking Aya to scry the present. It was painful to watch and more so to experience. He would just as soon have missed this meeting if he weren’t terrified of losing some small piece of information that might prove vital.

  Jonas waited for a long moment, saying nothing, allowing Aya a chance to compose herself. Though he was impatient, he was also aware that a few minutes would not tip the balance one way or another. In the long run, he would rather receive answers from Aya when she was more composed and clear of mind.

  “They’re gone.” she whispered finally, shaking her head.

  “Who?” Jonas asked patiently.

  “The Legionnaires. To a man. They were routed and then they were killed.”