Endless Flight

by A. C. Cobble

Not as big as the one from the creek, saw Ben, but still half again as tall as a man. Not as big as a house wasn’t very reassuring.

  It howled again, enraged at what they’d done to its swarm.

  “Where are…What is happening?” mumbled a confused voice.

  Lady Towaal was weakly pushing against the thick cloaks that bound her in the sling.

  “Don’t worry,” said Rhys. “We’ve got this.”

  He glanced at Ben and then down at Ben’s new longsword. “Ready?”

  Ben turned toward the arch-demon. It was twenty paces away but approaching rapidly. “Right behind you,” he said nervously.

  “I thought we’d trained you to be a hero,” chided Rhys as he stepped forward.

  Ben came beside him, on his weak-hand side.

  “I’ll go high. You go low,” said Rhys.

  “What do you mean high?” asked Ben.

  Rhys was already charging forward, stepping high so his snowshoed feet danced lightly across the top of the snow. The roaring arch-demon sped up to meet his attack. Its thick legs churned through the deep snow, slowing it down.

  Ben groaned then followed his friend. He was stunned when Rhys leapt into the air, jumping higher than Ben would have thought possible.

  The arch-demon reacted by swinging a powerful, claw tipped hand at Rhys. The rogue was ready and lashed out with foot, kicking the hand. The force of the blow sent him spinning into the snow.

  It left the demon open for Ben, though. He came in right behind his friend and slashed a deep cut into the demon’s thigh and a second, shallower laceration across its thickly muscled stomach.

  Ben jumped back barely in time as the demon reacted. He felt a sharp breeze sweep by his face as long claws passed less than a finger length away from ripping his head off.

  The demon attacked again, slowed by the injury to its leg. Ben scrambled backward, without a thought of counterattack, only survival.

  Rhys came to his rescue, swooping in from behind and severing the hamstring on the demon’s good leg. It crashed down in the snow and tried to swivel toward him. He scrambled backward, escaping safely.

  Both legs wounded, the huge creature struggled toward Rhys on its knees.

  Both of Corinne’s hand axes flashed into Ben’s view and smacked into the arch-demon. One sank deeply into the creature’s ribcage and the other bounced off its horned head.

  Roaring, the creature turned to see the new threat. Rhys took the opportunity. He surged forward and stabbed his longsword up through the beast’s neck and into its skull.

  Instantly, it stopped moving and toppled forward. Rhys jumped free with his blade before the heavy body crashed down into the snow.

  “That was close,” said Corinne with a sigh of relief.

  ***

  That evening, they stopped as soon as the sun began to set. It was early, but Corinne’s injury was steadily leaking blood. Rhys insisted they tend to it. Lady Towaal had fallen back to sleep after briefly and wildly looking around.

  Behind a large boulder, they found an area relatively clear of snow. Rhys brushed away what was there and Ben strung up the tarps for additional shelter. They both collected firewood. Ben allowed Amelie to tap him for heat to generate a fire. When she did it, he practiced hardening his will and shutting her off. She punched him in the shoulder harder than he thought was necessary.

  After the fire was started, handfuls of snow were added to the tea kettle to melt and make water.

  Amelie pulled out a needle and thread and gestured to Corinne to pull up her shirt and show her injury.

  “Have you done this before?” Corinne asked Amelie skeptically. “I wouldn’t think stitching people is something they teach at mage school.”

  “She did it for me,” said Ben, defending his friend. He pulled down one sleeve of his leathers to show the scars he’d gotten climbing over the wall and getting cut by the glass shards.

  “I remember those scars. Pretty nasty looking,” remarked Corinne dryly.

  “I didn’t say she did it well,” joked Ben.

  “Shut up, both of you,” instructed Amelie. “Someone’s got to do it. So, it’s me or one of those two.”

  Both girls looked at the men.

  Rhys was standing by the tent, stealing a sip from one of his flasks. Ben was struggling to retie one of the tarp strings that had come loose. They both looked back at the girls, grinning.

  Amelie continued, “I haven’t had much reason to practice, but I was taught to sew by my nursemaid.”

  “Your nursemaid taught you to sew? Very well.” Corinne sighed. “Do your worst, Amelie.”

  Amelie pushed up Corinne’s leathers to reveal three hand-length cuts along her ribcage. They ran deep, nearly to the bone. Amelie whistled between her teeth and frowned at the amount of thread she had.

  “That isn’t a good look,” cringed Corinne.

  “This may take a while,” murmured Amelie, placing a tender hand on Corinne’s pale skin.

  “Here,” said Rhys, handing over his flask.

  “What’s in it?” asked Corinne.

  “Don’t worry. It will get the job done,” assured the rogue.

  “That’s what I’m worried about,” she snapped back, but she tilted it up and took a big swig anyway. She then splashed some down on her wounded side. She cringed as the alcohol poured over the open wounds.

  Amelie went to work. After a few false starts and unnecessary pokes, she finished up some rough stitches in reasonably efficient order. She took out a rag and bathed Corinne’s side to clean the wound. Gently, she wiped the blood away.

  Corinne caught her hand and met her eyes. “Thank you,” said the huntress. “I owe you.”

  “Hopefully, you don’t need to do this for me,” replied Amelie with a smile.

  ***

  They traveled quickly after that and pushed themselves to the point of complete exhaustion. The risk of stumbling into a demon was real, but they knew what was behind them. They couldn’t allow themselves to be caught by the swarm from the Rift valley.

  Anytime they needed a reminder, they could look back and see the black tower of smoke still rising from where Towaal released the magma.

  A soft layer of ash joined the snow, giving the world a sickly grey tinge. Ben wanted nothing more than a bath.

  After two weeks of nothing but hiking and sleeping, he was mindlessly putting one foot in front of the other. The occasional demon broke the monotony, but luckily, it was individuals and not a swarm. Ben had no regard to which direction they were heading. He hoped Rhys or Corinne knew.

  Towaal and Amelie were in worse shape than Ben. The night before, both the mage and the initiate slumped down in their bedrolls and were snoring before dinner was served. Rhys shook them awake and insisted they eat. If they didn’t, they’d lose the remaining energy they had.

  The only thing that kept them going was the haunting specter they’d seen in the far-seeing table. Thousands of demons fleeing the valley were now out in the Wilds. They would be looking for food. The only place that could sustain a swarm that size was Northport. They had to get there. They had to warn Rhymer.

  That night, as Ben sat by the fire, he estimated that the next morning they would arrive in Free State. They weren’t close enough to hear the chopping yet, but he could sense it was close. After Free State, it was a day and a half to Skarston. Pulling his cloak tightly around him, Ben watched the flames flicker lower.

  The last time they’d passed through this area, it hadn’t been so cold. A month had passed. A month since he’d had a hot bath or decent mug of ale. Free State wasn’t exactly ideal, but the place did have roofs and beds. If they could find Perkins again, it had ale. He could use a tall one.

  The next morning, blue sky filled the horizon above the trees and a brilliant yellow sun warmed their backs as they set out again. The air was cold, and the ankle-deep snow made hiking a bit more difficult, but compared to where they had been, it felt good. Ben breathed in deeply and felt the chil
l air fill his lungs.

  Exhaling, he asked, “Should we stop in Free State?”

  They would arrive midmorning, if what they recalled from the surrounding landscape was correct. A lot had happened since then.

  “No,” replied Towaal, shaking her head.

  “We’re almost at the point of collapse,” argued Corinne tiredly. “And, not to be rude, but you are worse than the rest of us. You can barely keep your head up.”

  “We keep moving,” stated Towaal. “If we stop, that will delay us another night to Skarston and another night to Northport. We can’t afford any delays.”

  “Remember what’s behind us,” added Rhys.

  Corinne grimaced but remained silent. She knew what was coming.

  Stomping forward, Ben stole a glance at the mage. Dark bags hung below her eyes and her booted feet shuffled through the snow listlessly. The way she looked, he wasn’t entirely sure she’d make it to Northport at this pace. She hadn’t recovered from whatever happened when the Rift was destroyed. She needed rest.

  “Will power,” whispered Amelie, walking next to Ben.

  He looked at her questioningly.

  “It’s good for more than casting spells,” explained Amelie. “Lady Towaal has spent decades, maybe centuries for all I know, refining her will power. I know what you’re thinking, that she looks like she could collapse dead any minute. That’s the thing, she will keep going until she gets to Northport, or she does collapse dead. She’s determined we get there and she won’t bend.”

  “That’s crazy,” grumbled Ben.

  “It’s a good lesson,” remarked Amelie. “One we should keep in mind.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “The Sanctuary is filled with people like Lady Towaal,” answered Amelie. “People who are determined. I’ve been thinking about that as we’ve gotten closer to what we think is safety.”

  Ben frowned.

  Amelie continued, “The Sanctuary isn’t going to give up on us. The war between the Alliance and the Coalition is just getting started. We still know that the Sanctuary betrayed the Alliance, we still killed their people. They won’t let us live our lives unmolested. They are going to come for us, Ben.”

  “It’s been months,” he argued. “If they haven’t found us yet, it’s because they don’t know where to look. In Northport, just Rhymer, Franklin, and the Librarian really know who we are, and they aren’t going to talk. The Sanctuary is publicly telling people you are dead. If that is out there, they can’t keep hunters and soldiers looking for us. I’m not saying we’re in the clear, but I think we’re kind of in the clear. As long as we stay smart.”

  She looked ahead into the trees. “Maybe. Maybe the soldiers won’t be guarding the roads, maybe the hunters won’t be scouring the woods, but the mages are whom I am worried about. If Lady Towaal was looking for us…” Amelie gestured to the mage who was marching ahead of them. “Would she ever stop?”

  “You’re right,” replied Ben ruefully. “We may always need to be careful, but we still have the advantage that they don’t know where to find us.”

  “Mistress Eldred might be able to find us,” remarked Amelie. “Remember the blood magic? If she can feel some affinity for us, she could track us down.”

  Walking through the woods, Ben felt sickening discomfort thinking about Eldred. The rest of the flight from the Sanctuary was a blur now, but he distinctly recalled the moment when Amelie smashed the glass on the mage’s face. Her terrible scream, the awful visage of her skin melting away…that was burned into his memory forever.

  He wondered if it had killed her. They asked Towaal earlier, but she didn’t know.

  The Sanctuary had the best healers in Alcott. If Eldred hadn’t died immediately, it’s likely someone could have saved her. If they did save her, Amelie was right, the woman would never stop hunting them.

  Nothing they could do about that now but keep going.

  Ben ducked under a low-hanging branch and pushed it up for Amelie to duck under as well. As he did, he realized there was another source for his discomfort. By now, they should be close to Free State. They heard none of the chopping and other sounds from their first visit.

  “Rhys,” he called.

  His friend was walking at the front of the group and looked back.

  “I don’t hear anything,” remarked Ben. “No chopping, no blacksmith, nothing.”

  Rhys nodded. “You’re learning.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means we need to proceed with caution,” answered Rhys. “It means the discussion about stopping in Free State might be moot.”

  “You think they were overrun?” interjected Corinne.

  Rhys shrugged. “It’s possible. Only one way to know for sure.”

  They adjusted weapons and tried to shake off their weariness. The closer they got without hearing anything, the more obvious it became something was wrong.

  Two bells later, none of them were surprised when they entered the clearing around Free State and saw broad sections of the log palisade torn down. Bodies were scattered near the openings where the townspeople must have rushed to defend the breaches. Thankfully, they were far enough away to be spared the gory details.

  In the field before the broken wall, a few dark lumps marked demons that had been felled by arrows from the town. The silence spoke to the number who got inside successfully.

  “Do we investigate?” Rhys asked Towaal.

  “No,” she responded remorsefully. “No one is alive in there. We keep going.”

  Ben looked back as they passed the freshly built town and felt a tinge of regret they didn’t do more to warn the inhabitants. Peckins and Mistress Albie were kind people.

  He understood their desire to get away. The Alliance, the Coalition, and the Sanctuary…none of it made sense to him. The leaders had no interest in the wellbeing of the people, so the people left. Unfortunately for these folk, they picked the wrong place to start over.

  ***

  A day and a half later, as the sun was sinking beneath the skeletal branches of the birch trees, they approached Skarston. Free State was overrun, all of its occupants dead. The same swarm could have moved further to the larger town of Skarston. Bigger walls, watchtowers, and professional armed soldiers would all make a difference, but would it be enough?

  The wind changed direction, and minutes later, they got their first clue. An acrid, greasy smell floated toward them.

  “Burning demons,” muttered Corinne.

  “Someone must be alive to burn them,” said Rhys hopefully. They all knew a swarm big enough to overrun Free State would inflict serious damage in Skarston. A swarm like that couldn’t be defended against bloodlessly.

  With twilight falling on the forest, they finally saw the flickering fires of the burning demon pile. Thick, black smoke billowed up into the night air. Ben coughed as the wind moved a noxious whiff of the stuff in their direction.

  On the walls of the town, braziers burned. By the flickering light, they saw men moving around.

  Closer though, they were able to pick out other details, like where the stone wall had been pulled down in one section and the heavy gates left open and hanging at an odd angle.

  Corinne started walking faster, obviously eager to see what happened inside. She’d grown up in Skarston and still had friends living behind those walls. The rest of them kept pace.

  At the broken gate, a weary soldier rose to greet them. He was standing atop a tipped over wagon, which blocked the entrance.

  “Ho travelers!” he called.

  “Ho Skarston,” replied Corinne, still fifty strides from the gate.

  He spoke to someone inside then turned to face them again, holding a crossbow. “State your business before you get too close.”

  “Hunters returning from the Wilds,” replied Corinne with a snarl. “Since when do I need to explain my business to you before entering my hometown?”

  “Corinne?” asked the guard. “Is t
hat you?”

  Drawing closer, the huntress responded, “We grew up three blocks away from each other, Efrain. You don’t recognize me?”

  The soldier clambered down from the wagon and strode forward to greet them. Behind him, two more faces appeared from behind the barrier. The man embraced her, crushing her against the hard steel of his chainmail.

  “Oof, careful, Efrain,” she complained.

  “Sorry,” he choked. “We’ve lost so many. I…It’s good to see you.”

  “What happened?” asked Rhys quietly.

  The guard turned to him. “A swarm like I’ve never seen before. No one has. Last I heard, we counted forty seven of the bastards. All corpses now, but they took a toll. Come on.” The guard waved for them to follow and he started back toward the gate.

  “We’ll have to climb over,” he said apologetically, looking at the women. “We weren’t prepared for anyone to come in from the north, so we didn’t leave a way in.”

  “We can manage,” responded Corinne. She then looked at Ben and smirked. “You’re okay with that, right?”

  Ben rolled his eyes and, looking at the chest high wagon, remarked, “I think I can handle it.”

  They scrambled over the wagon, following Efrain into Skarston. Ben’s breath caught when he reached the top of the wagon and he got his first look inside the town.

  Damage and destruction littered the streets. Grim streaks of dark reddish brown led from several of the nearby buildings.

  “Sorry,” mumbled Efrain when he saw their faces. “We started cleaning up, but, well, people didn’t see much point in it.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Corinne.

  “Evacuation,” declared another man who had just arrived. He wore a badge of rank hanging from around his neck, but it was his air of quiet authority that gave him away as a leader.

  “Captain Ander,” said Corinne.

  He nodded to her and growled, “Glad you’re alive. We can use your skills more than ever back in Northport. We’re falling back to there,” he declared.

  “Makes sense,” nodded Rhys.

  Ander glanced at him then continued talking to Corinne. “Now, little lady, I’d like to hear what you were doing out there and what you saw.”