Endless Flight

by A. C. Cobble

  “It’s working,” breathed Towaal.

  “You weren’t sure?” asked Corinne.

  “The theory was sound,” muttered Towaal, “but theory is just that—theory. I knew we didn’t have another choice.”

  The perimeter of the steam was expanding rapidly. Towaal adjusted the view again, trying to circle the area. It was difficult to see what was happening underneath the cloud.

  Finally, she gave up and shifted to the edge which was closest to the Rift.

  “What’s that?” asked Corinne, pointing to one section which hadn’t yet been obscured. Between the trees, they could see motion.

  Unable to bring the view closer, Towaal centered on the area Corinne had pointed out.

  “Something is moving under the trees,” she said.

  “Demons,” answered Rhys. “They’re running from what you unleashed.”

  “But that can’t be demons!” objected Corinne. “Look, the movement is almost constant. For that to be demons, there would have to be…” she trailed off. For it to be demons, there would have to be hundreds of them.

  “Look at the Rift,” suggested Ben. “It was clear of trees there. We should be able to get a better view.”

  Nodding, Towaal swiped her hands over the table and they were observing the Rift again.

  Now, there was nothing they could see in the clearing except the stone circle.

  Tension filled the room. Black shapes poured into the clearing and Corinne let out a hiss. The creatures streamed around the Rift like water bursting from a dam.

  “We expected there were a lot of demons in that valley,” said Ben anxiously.

  “Yes, but…” Towaal didn’t need to finish. As they watched, a constant flood of darkness swelled out of the forest and moved past the Rift into the trees on the other side. Hundreds then thousands. They kept coming.

  They watched for half a bell until the smoke and steam started intruding on the view. Flickering light from burning trees peeked out between the swirls of smoke. Towaal moved her hands around rapidly, hovering from side to side. She was looking to see if the magma flow was making its way toward the Rift.

  Finally, the last line of trees surrounding the Rift clearing burst into flame and the tail end of the black shapes vanished into the opposite tree line.

  With less smoke from the burning trees, they could see the creeping line of magma flow into the clearing. All activity in the room stopped as they watched in silence. The bright orange and red wave of heat approached the Rift.

  “Hopefully this works,” mumbled Rhys.

  Ben shot him a look to see if he was joking, but his friend kept his eyes on the far-seeing table.

  Minutes passed before the slow-moving mass of liquid reached the base of stone. The magma, as Towaal called it, flowed around the structure like honey pouring into a pan. Ben leaned forward, looking for any visible change in the Rift.

  “I don’t think…” started Corinne.

  Then they all jumped back from the table.

  A brilliant blue web of lightning arced across the Rift. It was odd watching it, since no sound transferred through the far-seeing table. Ben imagined it sounded like a violent thunderstorm.

  Silver-flecked smoke started to boil off the stone and the blue lightning became intense. They all watched as a subtle lean became more pronounced. The stone started to sink into the magma below it. Through the far-seeing table, the vision didn’t seem real to Ben.

  Lower and lower, the stones dropped. The silent lightning grew increasingly violent. Soon, Ben could no longer see the stone and only saw crackling blue energy surrounding it.

  “What will happen when it gets completely melted?” wondered Ben.

  Before anyone had time to answer, the far-seeing table cracked across the middle and flickered into blackness. The stone lights in the room exploded, showering them with hot shards of rock. A razor sharp spike of pain raced through Ben’s body. His eyes watered with the sudden, unexpected blast of discomfort. Heartbeats later, a loud snap sounded through the butte and Ben stumbled back from the table to his knees.

  He was frozen on the floor as excruciating waves of pain raced across his body. It radiated from his head and pounded through him in rapid pulses. Minutes or hours passed, he couldn’t tell. The only thing that existed was the excruciating blanket of pain.

  But finally, with each heartbeat, the pain slowly faded. He took a gasping breath and kept his forehead pressed against the stone floor, waiting for the agony to subside. When he was finally able to open his eyes, he saw Corinne was sitting next to him, gripping her head with both hands. She was lit by the meager fire left in the hearth. All of the other lights in the room had gone out.

  Across from them, he saw Lady Towaal’s boots and legs prone on the floor. He stumbled up and staggered around the table to find her lying on her back, eyes open staring sightlessly at the ceiling. A trickle of blood oozed out of her nose.

  Amelie crawled over to the mage, wet streaks coursing down her cheeks.

  “What happened?” croaked Ben.

  “The spell around the Rift broke,” mumbled Amelie, pain lacing her voice.

  “Her senses must have still been extended,” rumbled Rhys, shuffling over to tend to the mage.

  “Is she okay?” worried Ben.

  Rhys stared back at him.

  Ben looked down at Lady Towaal’s body. Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, but other than that, she was completely motionless.

  “Never mind,” mumbled Ben apologetically.

  “Maybe with rest she’ll be okay. Like before,” suggested Corinne.

  “We don’t have time for that,” remarked Rhys. “We need to leave. Now. Get your things.”

  “What?” exclaimed Ben.

  “The demons,” choked Amelie.

  Rhys nodded. “We just saw what had to be thousands of demons fleeing that magma. Towaal thought they were in the valley because they somehow fed on the Rift. Their source of sustenance is gone now.” Rhys paused. “Thousands of them. What do you think they’ll do?”

  “Oh, shit,” Ben cringed.

  Getting Towaal’s unconscious body to the top of the butte proved easy, but once they got there, they had to pause. They didn’t have rope and needed to scale down a wall that was twenty-man heights above the ground.

  After a brief consideration, Rhys used his and Towaal’s cloaks to rig a sling for her that he hung off his back. Ben was given Rhys’ pack to carry down. He tried to think a way out of it, nervous about carrying both from such a height, but asking one of the girls to do it was too big a blow to his pride.

  “You go first, Ben,” suggested Rhys.

  “Wait,” interjected Corinne. “What about the magic armor and mace? I was promised a fortune by Rhymer when I get back, but that stuff is worth…I don’t know how much it’s worth,” she said with her hands on her hips. “A lot of fortunes.”

  “You want to go down and get it, carry it up here to the top, then climb down this mountain holding it?” asked Rhys with one eyebrow raised. “Not to mention the three-week hike back to Northport carrying twenty stones of extra metal with a few thousand demons on your heels?”

  Corinne frowned.

  “You know where it is now. If we survive this,” suggested Rhys, “you can come back at your leisure.”

  “You won’t take it?” asked Corinne.

  “All yours,” assured Rhys. “Now, I personally do not want to be climbing down when a thousand-strong demon swarm gets here. I’m ready to go.”

  Ben swallowed a lump in his throat then made his way to the edge of the butte. He tried to ignore the towering plume of black smoke and the continuing booms, cracks, and shudders that echoed down from the north. The rock was just barely moving, he tried to tell himself.

  He glanced down and immediately wished he hadn’t. Both his and Rhys’ packs weighed heavily against his back. He turned and scooted his boots to edge. He knelt down and started slowly working his way back.

&nb
sp; Rhys looked at him and rolled his eyes. Amelie gave him an encouraging smile. Corinne ignored him, her eyes were locked on the still growing cloud of smoke.

  One foot over, and his boot hung unsupported in the open air. Shaking, he laid down on his stomach and scooted back further, testing with his foot to find the bumps and cracks he’d used on the climb up.

  Amelie knelt beside him and looked over the precipice. “Move your right foot about a hand to the left,” she suggested.

  He did and sighed with relief when his foot was able to slip into a firm crack in the rock. Resting his weight on that foot, he slid the rest of his body off the top. He was hanging on the side of the cliff.

  “Left foot straight down four hands,” encouraged Amelie.

  Slowly but surely, he descended toward the narrow seam they used to climb up. Amelie guided him on where to place his hands and feet the entire way.

  He would have to take her dish-washing shifts he thought ruefully as he finally reached the relative safety of the icy seam. His body was shaking. His fingers were already numb from the cold and strain of gripping the rock.

  Amelie started down after him and the rest followed. Ben kept edging his way down until he was a man-height above the loose snow-covered scree that reached half the height of the butte. There, his foot found a slick patch of ice. His boot slide across it and he lurched, trying to maintain his balance. Arms flailing, he felt himself leaning backward.

  “Ben!” shouted Amelie, watching him helplessly get pulled away from the rock by the two heavy packs on his back.

  Each heartbeat seemed to take a minute. His body left the rock, and he fell.

  He landed almost instantly, cushioned by the packs and the waist-deep snow covering the slope.

  Staring up at the others, lying in an upside down snow angel, he groaned in embarrassment.

  “You’re not hurt, are you?” called Amelie, just two man-heights above him.

  “You look ridiculous,” added Corinne from higher up.

  Grumbling, he thrashed around in the snow while the others reached the bottom. He was trying to get his snowshoes on but he was already half buried from the fall. Flailing wildly, he was finally able to somersault back and get settled atop firmer snow where he could strap the bindings onto his feet.

  Panting from the effort, he collected the packs and rose to see the rest of his companions with snowshoes already on, waiting for him.

  “Right,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  Letting him keep the little remaining dignity he had left, they followed without comment.

  After two days sitting inside the warm chamber in the mountain, the brutal cold of the Wilds hit hard.

  They stumbled and slid down the loose snow and rock slope, several of them flopping over and having to be pulled out by their friends. By the time they reached the bottom, everyone had cold snow in uncomfortable places. Ben drew ragged breaths as they stepped onto the flatter area surrounding the butte. Walking in the snowshoes was easier than breaking a path through deep powder, but that didn’t mean it was easy.

  At the bottom, Rhys took charge. “Let’s keep moving,” he said. “The days are getting shorter. The more distance we make during the available light, the better.”

  They all agreed and started moving, heading toward the creek bed they followed on the way in. It wasn’t perfect, and Ben was nervous about passing the site of the battle with the demon swarm, but it would be the quickest route back to Northport.

  Slogging through the snow with both his and Rhys’ pack on his back, Ben realized that despite the discomfort, they were exceptionally lucky. Had they walked into the valley as they originally intended, surely they would have been found and overwhelmed by the demon swarms. Instead, they were able to accomplish their quest and were on the way home.

  “You know,” he said to Amelie who was striding beside him, “This could have been worse.”

  She nodded in agreement. “It could have been much worse.” She glanced back at Rhys who was following with Towaal still in the sling.

  “When we get back to Northport, do you think Rhymer will help you and send troops to Issen?” asked Ben.

  Amelie adjusted her pack, buying time before responding. “With what we saw in the far-seeing device, he can’t leave Northport unprotected. Besides, it might already be too late. If the Coalition was just waiting on Lord Jason to arrive, then he’s had plenty of time to get there now.”

  “What will we do then,” Ben wondered, “if Rhymer can’t help?”

  Amelie smiled at Ben. “I’m glad you’re not giving up. I don’t want to either, but…” She sighed. “I really don’t know what we can do next.”

  “We’ll think of something,” encouraged Ben.

  Smiling at Amelie, he stumbled and nearly fell when a large clump of snow fell from above and landed directly on his head.

  Corinne barked out a laugh.

  Ben brushed the snow out of his hair and looked up at where it fell from. Descending right at him was a slender demon with wings spread wide.

  “Demon!” he shouted.

  In a smooth motion, he shrugged out of the two packs and reached for his longsword. His hand closed around the wire-wrapped hilt, and he swept it out, cutting above his head. He met the falling demon with his mage-wrought steel.

  The blade cleaved through the demon like a hot knife cutting butter.

  A spray of rank purple blood splashed onto the white snow. The demon’s body crashed through the top layer and disappeared from sight.

  Looking to where it fell, Ben saw several dark shapes racing through the trees.

  Corinne saw them too. “More of them!” she called. She nocked an arrow on her bow.

  “Form a circle, backs together,” instructed Rhys.

  All around them now, Ben could see dark shapes circling. How many were there? Ten? Fifteen?

  “Amelie, look above us,” shouted Rhys. “Corinne, shoot some of the damn things!”

  An arrow sprung from her bow and a howl of pain followed.

  “I can’t get a good shot because of the trees,” she snarled through gritted teeth.

  “It doesn’t matter,” challenged Rhys. “Slow them down, or we’re going to be neck deep in claws and teeth. They’re waiting on something, let’s not let them do that.”

  More arrows flew and most of them hit a mark. Ben couldn’t tell if she felled any of the demons, but she caused enough damage that suddenly their tactics changed. From all directions, the creatures surged forward, charging at the companions.

  Ben felt his friends around him, all focused outward on the oncoming attack. Rhys had his longsword out. Corinne scrambled to drop her bow and raise her two hand axes. Amelie held her rapier and dagger defiantly in front of her.

  “Step high to avoid getting tripped up in the snow,” advised Rhys. He dumped Towaal in the middle of the group.

  Ben kicked his feet, knocking the accumulated snow off his flat snowshoes.

  Sensing that this could be the end, he lost himself in a battle haze. Just like when he’d taken the charge of the first demon in Farview, his instincts took over. His mind forgot everything Saala and Rhys had taught him. Muscle memory from practice and repetition took over. Without thinking, he stepped forward, shielding Amelie and instructing her, “Watch my back.”

  Shining silver mage-wrought steel spinning in front of him, Ben stepped carefully forward to meet the first wave of attackers. He lashed out at the incoming demons. Body parts and blood flew freely in the wake of his blade.

  The first demon that came near him didn’t have a chance. Ben simply stepped forward and lopped off its head, brushing aside its body as the momentum carried it into him.

  The next wave came in a pair. They were two thick-armed squat demons. Ben shuffled to the side to throw off their charge, reminiscent of what he’d seen Saala do at Snowmar. The demons turned toward him but not quick enough to prevent him stabbing into the chest of one, using its body to block the other. He then slid out
his sword and flicked it over the dead demon’s body to cut across the eyes and into the brain of the second.

  His blade cut cleanly through muscle and bone. He marveled at the ease he was able to use the light weapon with great effect.

  Glancing back, he saw Corinne expertly dancing around one of the creatures. It was struggling after her, fouled by the deep snow. She hacked at it with her axes, chopping deep lacerations in its skin. While Ben watched, the demon left an opening. She darted in, burying one of the axes in its skull. The body joined one just like it at her feet.

  Ben didn’t bother looking toward Rhys, he knew his friend would hold his own. Amelie, though, was being pressed back by one of the thin ones. She was efficiently defending with her rapier and dagger, but couldn’t get in a lethal counter attack.

  Ben stepped up behind her opponent and thrust his sword deep into its back, the tip of the silver steel sliding out the creature’s front.

  “Thanks,” breathed Amelie, then pointed over Ben’s shoulder.

  He turned and met the charge of a large, shoulder-height attacker. He ducked under a set of razor sharp claws that slashed toward his throat. Then he drew his blade along the thing’s abdomen, spilling its tangled white guts onto the snow.

  Seeing nothing in front of him, Ben turned to check on his companions. Amelie was standing wild-eyed, looking around for more threats, but she seemed fine. Rhys was delicately picking his way out from a pile of dead creatures and body parts scattered and him. Corinne was wincing with a hand pressed against her side. Crimson blood leaked down her fur-lined leathers.

  Ben hurried to her but she waved him off.

  “Just a bad cut. I’ve had worse,” she said. “I’ll need to get stitched up eventually, but I can move.”

  “Move?” asked Ben, confused.

  “There’s an arch-demon out there somewhere,” warned Rhys. “That must be what they were waiting for.”

  A piercing howl sliced through the air. Ben turned to see the arch-demon staking toward them. Wings tucked in behind its back, it still brushed against the trees as it came forward. The stark contrast of the white snow and the black nightmare approaching them was jarring.