The Boundless

by Peter Newman

  ‘Forgive me,’ said Gada, ‘but why you three? And how do you know this?’

  She looked at Nidra who nodded permission for her to answer. ‘Through bitter experience. As to why, I believe love is to blame. At the time Rochant made his pact, he loved your mother and me,’ she gave another glance towards Nidra, ‘despite our rejections. He probably still does. Because of this, the Corpseman will not hurt us, though I’m less sure about its … I want to say children, but I’m not sure that’s the right word.’

  ‘We can use that to our advantage,’ said Nidra.

  ‘Perhaps. Have you heard about Sagan yet?’

  Both Gada and Nidra shook their heads.

  ‘Sagan has been destroyed. Those who weren’t killed have been harvested, I suspect to make more children for the Corpseman. I think that is what the Corpseman wants: To breed.’

  Gada cleared his throat. ‘This is all very useful information, Lady Pari, but how do we destroy it?’

  ‘My dear Lord Gada, I’m not sure we can. The Scuttling Corpseman has been stealing memories from Samarku Un-Sapphire for years about our ways, and it has been making plans with Rochant Un-Sapphire for at least as long. It knows how we think and it knows how our society works. I wonder if the question is not so much how we beat the Corpseman but whether it is possible to stop it beating us.’

  ‘No,’ said Nidra. ‘The Corpseman can be beaten. It allowed me to hack off its arm.’ Gada’s eyebrows shot up, but a quick gesture from his mother was enough to ward off any interruption. ‘That means you can attack it, Lady Pari, maybe even kill it. You must try, for all our sakes. We have four Deathless and two flights of hunters, enough to give you a chance. If the Corpseman means to make its forces larger, then we have every reason to strike now before it becomes overwhelming. House Sapphire will hold off the enemy’s troops while you cut out its heart.’

  I agree with you, she thought. So long as we’re talking about Rochant. He’s the Corpseman’s weak spot.

  ‘Are you sure about this?’ asked Lord Gada.

  ‘I am,’ replied Pari, doing her best to give him due attention and keep an eye on the small, feathered guide flitting just above the canopy. ‘Give me the chance and I’ll bring down the Corpseman.’

  ‘Actually, I was referring to this route. As you know, I have been to the Corpseman’s lair before, and I’m not sure this is the most direct way.’

  ‘Fear not, Lord Gada, for I too have been here before in my previous lifecycle. I know where I’m going.’

  His long face was perfectly shaped to display polite disapproval. ‘Forgive me, Lady Pari, but that was some time ago, and the Wild is fond of changing its pathways. My hunters and I came here mere days ago, which is why I believe …’

  He was still talking but Pari did her best to tune him out. In situations like this she found it easiest to make pleasant noises that suggested agreement while getting on with the work herself. Besides, she could hardly explain to Gada that she knew better thanks to a demon of the Wild.

  As the trees gave way to thick tufts of grass and the ground began to slope upwards, Pari gave Gada a satisfied smile. ‘Here we are, just as I promised. Are your people ready?’

  ‘Yes. Suns shine on you, Lady Pari. I hope we all see each other in the same bodies when this is over.’ He raised one hand to his head, which was the signal to make preparations. Mia, who was leading the other flight, made the same gesture, and all the hunters put in their ear-plugs.

  Another gesture, and the hunters spread out, each flight forming a semi-circle of spears. Pari took a moment to appreciate the pretty formations while she could.

  Arkav came to join her, clearly intending to have a last word before the battle. She stepped away from Gada to join him.

  ‘I know,’ she said. ‘I’ll be careful.’

  He raised an eyebrow at that. ‘Whatever happens out there, we stay together.’

  ‘Agreed.’

  He nodded, then asked, ‘Are you sure this is the best way to take on the Corpseman?’

  ‘I hope so, dear brother, given that you thought it was a good idea!’

  ‘Yes. Yes, I think it probably is. Although I’d rather it were us going after Rochant. It seems very risky to leave our fates in the hands of our very dubious allies. What if they fail? What if they betray us? If we die here, there won’t be anyone to deal with the Bringers.’

  ‘Maybe you should stay back? I can handle the Corpseman, you can handle the Bringers.’

  ‘No. It beat you the last time you were alone, remember?’

  ‘I rather wish I couldn’t.’

  ‘Perhaps together, we’ll be able to take it down whether they find Rochant or not.’

  She peered through a gap in the trees in time to see the Birdkin begin its dive. ‘I believe it’s time to go.’ She signalled Gada to begin the attack. ‘No dying,’ she said to Arkav, ‘Okay?’

  ‘I won’t if you won’t.’

  ‘Deal,’ she replied, and the two of them broke cover and started to race for the hill.

  Sa-at was out of breath by the time he reached the top of the tunnel. His arms and legs were tired too. Though the tacky substance that coated everything gave him some purchase, the sides were smooth, and the earth beneath his fingers soft. A trail of feathers stolen from his coat now lined the tunnel walls, marking his route.

  He emerged at a point on the top of the hill but not, as he expected, into open air. Around him was a dome of hard amber that turned the sunslight a strange orangey yellow. It was warm, soporific, and after all his excitements, sleep was very tempting. The Scuttling Corpseman was still lurking below though, and he knew that it would make short work of the climb if it had a mind to do so.

  He reached up and pushed. Immediately, cracks appeared above him. The dome was already broken, and each of the pieces had been rearranged together like a jigsaw. He pushed harder, standing on tiptoes to send several of the chunks toppling over, then hauled himself out of the hole in the dome and dropped down onto soft wet grass.

  The fresh air was cool on his face and he took in a long deep breath, immediately feeling more awake. Silver birch trees dotted the top of the hill, and beyond them he had a view over the Wild in all directions. In places he could see gaps where lone leafless trees stood and a sad feeling settled in his gut.

  Some of the trees have been killed.

  But why have the others left them there?

  Usually a dead tree would fall but these remained upright. And usually, the Wild reclaimed its own with great speed unless there was some other power involved.

  As he tried to work out what this meant he became aware of a low humming all around him. Though it did not sound aggressive, it put him on edge. The demons that served the Corpseman were here, weaving in and out of the hillside. He only caught glimpses, most were hidden from his view, but he could tell they were very close and that, as yet, they were unaware of him.

  Sa-at considered his options. Below him was the Scuttling Corpseman. At some point it would conclude its business with Rochant and come back up the tunnel. He did not want to be anywhere near the hill when that happened, but to leave the hill he would have to go through an army of demons.

  Neither choice seemed very appealing.

  While he stood there, a great black cloud rose from the trees to his left. It was made of Birdkin, and it was coming at great speed. Crowflies? Is that you? Have you come for me?

  He wasn’t sure how this could be so. With Murderkind dead, the flock had no leader, but he couldn’t deny the evidence before him.

  And then, to his right, he saw two glowing violet figures emerge from the trees, and hunters were following, blue wings flashing on a hundred backs.

  The lady with the golden lips!

  He knew that the Birdkin were enemies of the hunters. But he also knew that both were enemies of the Corpseman.

  And the Corpseman is in the middle!

  Though his friends might end up fighting each other, they would attack the hill fi
rst. As he frantically tried to think about what to do, he heard the tone of the swarm change. Soft, rhythmic humming cut off, to be replaced with a moment of blessed silence, and then an angry, alien roar.

  Sa-at crouched low and moved to the edge of the hilltop. Below him, the swarm was in motion. Some were throwing themselves into the air, their transparent wings a blur at their backs, while others were diving into holes on the hillside, to emerge a moment later with weapons in their hands. Sa-at recognized some as the kind carried by road-born – simple sticks, slings, and spears – as well as a smattering of crystal-tipped weapons that must have been scavenged from dead hunters.

  In seconds the sky was filled with humanoid bodies, so thick that they became like a living wall. So thick, that Sa-at could no longer see or hear any of his friends. Their buzzing filled his senses, overwhelming – wrong! – rooting him to the spot. He stopped worrying about his friends or the Corpseman or how to escape, and began to scream.

  Rayen led the pack, a white arrowhead of Dogkin, speeding under the black cloud above. Chandni sat in the middle of them on Glider’s back, Varg behind her. She leaned forward, keeping as low as she could. The swarm of demons didn’t notice her at first, distracted by her army of brave Birdkin.

  Everything around her was muted, giving it a sense of unreality. She looked up once, and saw the initial contact between her forces and the Corpseman’s. The last time the flock had faced the swarm, it had been maddened by the noise, but this time, the Birdkin were able to fight with precision, each one a tiny dagger thrown at the heart of the enemy.

  The swarm adapted swiftly. She saw them splitting into smaller formations, throwing knives and spears, raising nets between them …

  Fighting like we do. Like our hunters.

  She didn’t look up again. Whatever was going to happen would happen, regardless of her worrying. For better or worse they were all committed to the plan now.

  As they passed underneath the swarm, a unit of demons detached and dived down towards them. Varg’s hand was firm on her back, keeping her down, and Chandni clung tighter to Glider’s neck. She was aware of Varg moving behind her, his body twisting as he stabbed at something that had got too close. Chitin-coated hands grasped for her, then there was a flash of white, as a Dogkin leapt next to them, and the hands were gone.

  All around her, teeth flashed and bodies crashed together, soft white and shiny black. Some went down, some kept going. She saw weapons flash in the sunslight and red streaks bloom on fur. She saw a Dogkin pounce on a demon, ripping it from the sky, only to be surrounded by more of them that danced above it, each dip accompanied by a spear thrust.

  And then they were through, and running towards the base of the hill.

  Varg tapped her on the shoulder and pointed towards a hole directly ahead. She nodded and they went for it, leaping from Glider’s back as the Dogkin skidded to a halt, and diving inside.

  One of the swarm came towards Pari at blistering speed. To her horror, she realized that the spear in its hand was tipped with a ruby head and was glad Vasinidra wasn’t there to see it. All our worst fears are confirmed.

  Her whip flicked out and the barb tore one of its wings off like paper. The demon spun wildly, crashing into the floor at her feet but before it could recover, she stamped down on its neck.

  Another two were already on her, trying to flank her position. Pari allowed herself a slight smile. She recognized the manoeuvre. How interesting. This time her whip snared one by the ankle, allowing her to swing it into the second. As the two demons crashed to the ground, Arkav came leaping down onto them, fists first. His gauntlets flashed as they made contact. There was a distressed buzzing, a sharp cracking sound, and then a wet squelch. The buzzing cut off abruptly.

  ‘I wondered where you’d got to,’ she said.

  Arkav tapped the side of his helmet and shouted something. She couldn’t hear him over the sound of the swarm, which was, she thought, rather the point of his communication.

  She nodded to show she’d understood, and gestured for them to continue. Arkav held up a finger and then pointed back to where the bulk of the Sapphire hunters were. They’d been arranged into two flights and, spread wide, were forcing the swarm to thin out in order to block their approach. She didn’t like the restraint the swarm seemed to be showing, nor did she like the odd formations they were taking up.

  ‘I have a terrible feeling that the Corpseman has been teaching its children how to fight us.’

  Arkav glanced at her and tapped his helmet again.

  ‘Sorry, it’s hard to break the habit of sharing my wisdom.’

  Arkav raised an eyebrow and she mouthed ‘sorry’ at him.

  Lord Gada and Mia were using traditional tactics. However, these normally assumed that the hunters would outnumber the prey, and that the prey would not be using the same weapons. It was also uncommon to find so many demons that could fly.

  If we don’t do something, they’ll be overwhelmed.

  She could already see that fighting had started in places, that demons were flying overhead and hunters were leaping into the air to stab at them. Neat lines were disintegrating into clumps, as the swarm’s units dropped down among the hunters.

  Though her helmet muted the sound of the swarm it was still distracting. Neither she nor Arkav realized that more demons were approaching from behind until their shadows fell across them.

  Pari didn’t have time to use her whip, doing her best to twist as a thrown spear glanced from her side. Luckily it only had a wooden head, and did little more than scratch the tanzanite plates. She grabbed at the demon’s face as it flew over her, gathering antennae in her fist and allowing its momentum to rip them free. It crashed nearby, and lashed out wildly at the air.

  Arkav had managed to dispatch two more, but at a cost. His other wing had gone dark and the armour’s aura had started to flicker.

  Chandni needs to find Rochant and end this sooner rather than later, and I need to draw the Corpseman away. Come on, Pari. Think!

  But it was hard to think. For one thing, there was a lot going on, and for another, she was beyond tired. The only thing she was sure about was that they had to finish the Corpseman here and now, before it had a chance to strengthen its position. In the years it would take the other High Lords to return from their enforced trip between lives, the balance of power would swing still further against them.

  So, she carried on towards the hill. Arkav stooped to collect the ruby-tipped spear and came with her. She suspected she could reach the top with a good run up and a single jump but she leapt onto the side of the hill instead, landing next to one of the person-sized bumps of amber. Putting away her whip, she grabbed it with both hands and pulled, exposing about a third of it to the air. Inside was the silhouette of a body, slowly changing from corpse to demon.

  Arkav landed next to her and plunged the spear into the thing with all his Deathless strength.

  Some of the swarm nearest to them paused in the air, as if someone had just slapped them across the back of their heads. She moved to the next block of amber and did the same. Arkav destroyed it just as fast.

  By the fourth, large chunks of the swarm were breaking off and heading towards them.

  ‘Well,’ she shouted amiably. ‘That got their attention.’

  ‘Agreed,’ Arkav shouted back. ‘Now what do we do?’

  She shrugged. ‘Keep going, sooner or later we’ll annoy the Corpseman into appearing.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Satyendra slipped from his hiding place. Nearby, hunters and demons fought each other in clusters, formations breaking and re-forging, the piles of the dead slowly growing, their patterns showing the ebb and flow of battle.

  Amid the buzzing and shouting and thud of weapons he was a quiet shadow moving within the greater shadows of the hill. Nobody was looking for him. Nobody was expecting him. As he moved further from the fighting, the oppressive noises eased and it became easier for him to think.

  Somew
here inside he would find Sa-at.

  Somewhere inside he would find Rochant.

  None of the swarm had stayed behind and he was aware of another battle happening on the far side of the hill. There was nothing to stop him going inside. But as he studied the different tunnels and tried to decide which one to take, he felt a twinge of fear. A primal instinct was telling him to run, to put as much distance as he could between himself and this place.

  Satyendra ignored it and held fast to the twin desires of hope and revenge. They were the stars he navigated by now. It was easy to insert his long, slender frame into the tunnel, though he had to crawl to make progress. The darkness did not trouble him as much as it used to, and he found he could still make out shapes quite clearly, the colour leeched from them. He caught a glimpse of his hands as they moved in front of him and felt his heart clench. The fingers protruded from the bandages, impossibly long, nearly twice the size they had been before, and the skin was stretched so thin over them that it had paled, becoming almost as white as the bones beneath.

  But they felt neither frail nor brittle. If anything, they felt stronger. Before, his body had only changed when he had fed upon the emotions of others, but now the transformation seemed to have acquired its own momentum, twisting him even as he stood and waited.

  And I didn’t even notice.

  There was a haze in the air in front of him, vibrant against the greys of the tunnel. He realized it was not a physical thing, but the faint edges of a collection of emotions. Ones he knew, and from a person he knew.

  Fear. Frustration. Despair. Anger. And the source is Rochant!

  The instinct to run remained, but now he could feel that special hunger, and it soon eclipsed his fear. Oh, to feed on Rochant, that would be the sweetest meal of all.

  He was aware of other things close by. A multitude of beings living within the hill, some large, some small, their individual scents too small to identify, that formed a backdrop to Rochant’s. By contrast, these were docile; quiet dreamers with unformed thoughts.