As we step out of the shadows of the chasm, we take a moment to take stock of our meager supplies and get our bearings.
“Any idea where we are?” Zara asks, brushing a strand of hair out of her face.
Squinting, I look up into the cloudless blue sky then point. “Judging by the sun, that way is north. Other than that, I don’t have a clue.”
She sighs. “Neither do I – I figured we’d be able to find the way once we got here, but these blasted hills all look the same. I fear that we may have to do a fair bit of wandering before we find the mine.”
My gaze wanders from Zara and settles on Yari, Kanik and Vas, who are standing beside a nearby boulder, chatting amiably in their language. Then, my lips turn up in a faint smile.
“Perhaps we won’t need to wander after all,” I reply, gesturing at the three youths.
Zara frowns for a moment, but the expression is quickly replaced by one of wide-eyed realization. “Why didn’t I think of that? Owyn, you’re a genius!”
I shrug. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
She smiles and goes off to talk to the youths, leaving me to catch up. With my wounded leg, I am forced to limp after her, pain shooting up through my thigh. I have to have this treated, I think to myself, gritting my teeth and hiding my grimace. Infection will set in soon, and then I’ll be no good to anybody.
Zara chatters with the wastelanders in their odd-sounding tongue, speaking confidently and motioning with her hands. They nod in return, Yari smiling broadly at the opportunity to be of use. Within minutes they are charging off, eagerly leading our beleaguered band deeper into the wastes.
It is slow moving without the horses. Many of the mages are past their prime and have difficulty making their way through the treacherous hills.
My wounds make me slow as well. Since my run in with the hook horrors, I have not had an opportunity to properly care for the gash in my leg or the numerous cuts and scratches all over my body. With the exception of the leg wound, none of the abrasions are particularly painful; however, when added together, they leave me feeling sore and weakened.
I left my medical supplies with my horse, I think to myself, chagrined. Won’t have any antiseptic to clean my leg.
The prospect of dying by infection is much more terrifying than dying by a demon’s claws.
We continue through the blistering sun for many hours, trudging over hills and through gullies choked with thorns. It is a painful reminder of the weeks Zara and I had spent exiled here, the lack of water and animal life as oppressive as the heat.
Still, I can’t help but think that somehow our time in the wastes had brought us closer together. If it hadn’t been for our interactions with the wastelanders, we would never have found the source crystal – the last hope we have to defeat the R’Laar.
Hours pass, and it isn’t long before we are forced to dip into our limited supply of water. In our haste, we had left most of our provisions with the horses, and now we find ourselves dangerously underprepared to deal with the harsh conditions of the wastes.
As the sun begins its final descent through the sky, we begin to hear a sound that we have all come to dread.
Howling.
“Light almighty,” Zara breathes, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow. “I thought we’d have had more of a lead.”
“This is their territory,” I reply through gritted teeth. The pain in my leg has become almost debilitating. “It was inevitable that they’d be able to find us.”
She casts a worried glance over her shoulder. “I just thought we’d have more time.”
We make our way down the side of yet another hill, hiking through terrain that I swear we’d traversed before.
Everyone, including the mages, seems to grow worried at the sound of the howling, but not the three youths. Yari, Kanik and Vas appear perfectly at ease, making their way over the uneven dirt and rocks.
“Deyarli u erda?” Zara asks, calling out to the wastelanders.
Vas glances back at her. “Juda ham ko'p emas,” he replies, pointing in the direction we are walking.
“He says the mine is just ahead,” she translates, though her brow remains creased with worry. “Around the next bend, I think.”
“Let’s hope he’s right,” I mutter, resting a hand on my father’s hatchet.
We continue on, making our way down the hill and into the next valley. After that, we head into a nearby gulley. Some of the rock formations look vaguely familiar to me, like I have walked this same path before. Then, when we come out the other side, I see it – the sloping basin where the abandoned mine is located.
“There it is!” Zara declares, pointing to the cavernous entrance. “Let’s get inside, quick!”
Behind us, echoing off the walls of the gulley, come the haunting sounds of baying darkhounds.
We hasten toward the mine, navigating through rocks and gnarled clumps of thorn bushes as the howling grows ever louder. The beasts must have tracked our scent, I think to myself as I attempt to run. Stronger senses than bloodhounds, those demons.
As we approach the entrance, the first of the black-furred creatures begin pouring out from the gulley behind us, red eyes glowing even in the light of the sun.
“Come on!” Zara shouts, motioning frantically for the slower mages to hurry up. “We’re almost there! Hurry!”
Yari and the others lead the way, running into the roughly-hewn mine without a source of light to guide them. They are followed by the majority of the mages, most of them gasping for breath.
The rest of us aren’t going to make it, I realize, looking behind and seeing the darkhounds in close pursuit. With my wounded leg, I am just as slow as even the oldest of the mages.
“Zara! We need a shield!” I yell, pulling out my hatchet as I continue hobbling forward. “Now!”
Zara skids to a halt, pulling out her talisman as she spins around to face the demons. Her face darkens in concentration and she utters the words in a voice of power, eyes blazing with intensity. “Darian glè làidir!”
Light shoots from her fingertips, coalescing between us and the demons like the threads of a blanket being woven together. It blooms out, a shimmering blue forcefield growing until it encompasses us and nearly half the hillside.
“Go!” Zara shouts, eyes squeezed shut in concentration. “I can’t hold it for long!”
The rest of the mages hurry past her, disappearing inside the mine without looking back.
I stop beside Zara, falling into a defensive position with my hatchet held up.
“Get... inside... the mine,” she hisses, sweat beading on her forehead. Beyond the radiant shield, dozens of darkhounds snarl and roar, slashing their claws uselessly against the magic.
“I’m not leaving you,” I say with a tone of finality.
“Owyn... you must–”
“Zara!” I interrupt, heat entering my voice. “You’re the only one who knows how to cast the damn spell. Don’t be foolish. You need to release this shield and come with me inside the mine. Everyone else is safe.”
He lets out a long breath, then finally releases her hold on the spell. She swoons as the shield evaporates, giving the demons a chance to get through.
Screaming in pain, I wrap my arm around her waist and practically drag her toward the mine. My leg feels like it is going to give out, but fortunately, it holds our weight.
With the darkhounds nipping at our heels, we rush into the darkness.
Vargus stands there, a glowing source crystal held in his hand as we race past. As soon as we are through, he begins casting a spell, his other hand outstretched and pointing toward the tunnel entrance.
There is a flash of heat and a boom as a bolt of magefyre strikes the cavelike ceiling. The stone instantly cracks and collapses, dumping rocks and debris upon the heads of the darkhounds behind us. Dust rushes into the tunnel, along with a horrible rending noise, then all grows quiet, the silence of the mine enveloping us.
Panting, Zara and I daz
edly look up to where Vargus is regarding us, an imperious expression on his bearded face. A ball of magefyre floats near his head, illuminating the narrow cave. Behind him, the entrance is completely sealed off.
“I hope for all our sakes that you know what you are doing, Seeker Dennel.” His voice resonates off the stone walls in a foreboding way. “Now, there is absolutely no turning back.”
With that, he strides past us, delving deeper into the mine. His absence leaves the two of us completely in the dark.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Elias
“Mages, on your feet! Plug up that hole!”
The words tear painfully from my dry throat, echoing from off the tower to where the mages stand dumbfounded along the wall. Out on the battlefield, the first ranks of demons let out a vicious roar and begin another charge, raising spears and ladders in an attempt to exploit our vulnerability.
Eleven Hells, I think, throwing down my bow and drawing my sword. This is madness! How can we defend against such power?
Rallying the Nightingales around me, I race down the steps toward the smoking crater. Talon, looking dazed, follows as well, his spear coated in dry blood.
As we make our way down the wall, I attempt to rouse the soldiers out of the stupor that holds them. Many of them stand facing the hole in the wall, mouths agape and faces pale. “Archers, fire at will! Prepare yourselves to fight!” Our presence seems to embolden the defenders, causing them to scramble for their weapons and rush back to the battlements.
Ahead, I can see several mages running toward the breach, glowing crystals held in their hands. They begin to gather around, both on the wall and behind it, preparing to create a shield to stop the R’Laar from getting into the city.
“Protect those mages!” I command, pointing my sword at the Nightingale warriors standing nearby. “Defend them with your lives!”
They nod their helmeted heads and respond, “Yes, Lord Protector!”
“We need to find High Magus Roth,” I say to Talon, turning to stare out at the battlefield. The demons run through a hail of arrow fire, many of them coming perilously close to the gap. “I need to speak with him about the defense of the wall. Go find him, now!”
Without uttering a sarcastic remark of any kind, Talon gives me a hasty salute and rushes off.
Boy must be scared witless if he’s forgotten his tongue, I think to myself grimly.
Just before the demons arrive at the breach the mages cast their spell, filling the hole with a radiant shield that spans the entire divide. The assault breaks against it, pushing against the wall of magic as if it were solid stone. Even so, I know that this can only be a temporary measure. They cannot possibly hold the spell for long.
Staying close to the shield, I lend my strength to that of the defenders, pushing down ladders and fighting off stray gorgons who manage to make it up onto the wall.
I can sense the trepidation in the hearts of my soldiers. Uncertainty hangs over the defenders like a noxious cloud. Still, we manage to do a decent job of holding the wall until Talon returns beside High Magus Roth.
“High Magus,” I say with a nod as I wipe dark blood off my sword.
“Protector,” he replies, face as dour as ever.
“We need to discuss the defense of the wall.” I gesture to the mages struggling to maintain the radiant shield. “Somehow, we need to figure out a way to keep the R’Laar from getting in without exhausting your mages.”
Nearby, a stray arrow flies up from the battlefield and shatters against a stone. Roth does not seem to notice. Instead, he merely looks past me to the endless sea of demons beyond.
“Magus?” I prod, brow furrowing. “Roth, did you hear me?”
“The wall is lost,” he replies in a small voice. His eyes, intelligent yet strangely distant, do not seem to be focusing on anything in particular.
I glance over at Talon. He simply shrugs.
“The wall is not lost so long as our men defend it,” I growl, anger beginning to boil in my blood. “Focus, man! We need your help!”
For a moment, his expression grows more lucid. Then, a look of horror comes over his face. “Look!” He cries, raising a slender finger to point somewhere beyond the battlements. “We can no longer hope to protect this wall!”
Talon and I both turn around in time to see the gigantic machine begin to once more flare to life. The demons had moved the thing to point to another section of wall, its black, metallic surface pulsing with an infernal green light.
I curse. They’re going to punch another hole in our defenses.
When I turn back around, Roth is fleeing the scene, running down the back stairs in an attempt to get away.
“Tell those men over there to look out!” I shout, ignoring the High Magus for the time being. This gets the attention of several soldiers. When they see the machine, they jump and begin sprinting toward the unwitting defenders.
“This is a bloody mess,” I mutter, shaking my head in frustration as they rush off. “We don’t have enough mages to plug up all these holes. We’re going to have to pull back to the barricades. Talon, go find Captain Kris. Inform him that we are pulling back and that he is in charge of coordinating the troops. I need to send runners to the rangers and the militia.”
Again, Talon races off to do as I say, his usual smirk replaced with a worried grimace.
It isn’t long after that the machine begins to thrum, the demonic power welling up inside like a gathering storm. A few seconds later it explodes, spewing green energy out and blowing another massive hole in the wall. Fortunately, most of the troops on that section of the wall had managed to evacuate the area, but that doesn’t make me feel much better. With a new breach, the demons have another opportunity to get through, their ranks surging forward to rush inside.
This Prince of Darkness certainly doesn’t care for the deaths of his troops, I think, noting how a wide swathe of his gorgons were vaporized by the blast.
Regardless, the cruel bastard still has plenty more to spare.
Nearby mages manage to put up a shield on that hole as well, but I am keenly aware that it is only a matter of time before more of the wall is blasted down around us.
“Pull back!” I command, waving my sword above me in the air. “Pull back to the barricades! The wall is lost!”
The soldiers begin to panic, pulling away from the battlements in an effort to get away. Many begin rushing down the stairs, trampling some of their brethren in the process.
“Order, dammit! We need order!” I scream so loudly that my voice begins to grow hoarse. “I will have any man that does not obey my orders hanged! Now, pull back to your stations!”
The captains and the sergeants begin to take up the call, corralling their soldiers in an organized, if not totally orderly, fashion. They begin marching quickly down the stairs and flooding the courtyard beyond.
In the chaos I manage to send a couple of runners to the other fronts, informing the rangers and the militia of our plans to retreat.
As the men pull away from the battlements, more ladders begin to go up, and with no warriors there to push them over, gorgons begin to swarm the walls. Arrows fly in both directions as the last of the knights, Nightingales and militiamen pull back, and soon, the outer defenses are completely overrun.
Sword still in hand, I race across the cobbles of the inner courtyard, following the last of the retreating Nightingales to the barricades. All around me, men fall to the black-fletched arrows of the R’Laar, bodies dropping to the ground in mid-step.
Finally, we arrive at the barricade, a thick construction made from heavy timbers and stone debris. The gates close shut behind us, sealing us away from the deadly demonic archers.
“Thank the Light you survived,” Captain Kris says, his face creased with worry. “I was afraid that you wouldn’t make it.”
“I’m still breathing,” I remark, slamming my sword into its scabbard. “Have you received word from the Master Warden?”
He sh
akes his head. “Not yet, Protector. Though, I’ve heard that the rangers have sealed off the barricade to the north. Their section of the wall was not hit as hard as ours was.”
“Good,” I reply with a curt nod. “Now, we must prepare ourselves to fight in the western districts. I want archers on the rooftops and squads of men guarding every alley. Are the siege weapons in position?”
“Yes, lord Protector.”
“Excellent. We can pound the walls with our trebuchet and ballistae. That should keep the bastards from pressing too hard.” I pause and look around, searching for any sign of blue robes. “Did High Magus Roth make it over here?”
Kris nods and points a gauntleted finger. “He did. He and the other mages are sheltering in that building over there.”
“Thank you for your efforts, captain,” I say, resting a hand on his shoulder. “You’re doing good work. Make sure that our preparations are in order. I have a feeling the demons will soon press their advantage.”
He gives me a salute as I walk away, striding purposefully over to the building he had indicated. It looks to be some kind of tavern, with wide glass windows and a sloping, shingled roof.
I push open the door and march inside, searching the low light of the room for the High Magus. Several tired-looking mages look over at me, anxiety painted clearly on their faces, but I ignore them, instead walking up to where Roth sits near the back of the room.
“Excuse me,” a man in white steward robes says, stepping in front of me. “But the High Magus does not wish to be disturbed–”
He yelps as I shove him out of the way, knocking him to the ground without breaking stride. Roth, his face drawn and pale, looks up in time to see me looming over him, eyes hard like drawn steel.
“The Nightingales and the rangers have one thing in common,” I growl, voice dangerously low. “Do you know what that is?”
He gives a small, almost imperceptible shake of the head.
I flex my hands, balling them up into fists. “The way we deal with deserters.” Before he can react, I reach forward and grab the front of his robes, hauling him up from his seat and slamming his back down on the top of the table. He grunts in pain and the mages around us cry out in alarm, the faint bluish glow telling me that many of them have begun channeling source energy.
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