God of Night

by Tom Lloyd

  ‘Don’t tire yourself,’ Kas said, watching him. ‘Anything you can to do to thin the rock, or create fissures the bomb might exploit, will be just as useful.’

  ‘I cannot control the change,’ Atieno replied, never taking his eyes off the pillar, ‘but any difference should mean fault-lines, even if I make a sheet of steel there.’

  ‘Lynx!’ someone shouted from lower down. ‘Kas! We’ve got bugs!’

  He turned to see a number of creatures circling the plateau – not large by the standards of threat down here, but big enough. They were the size of eagles with hooked talons at the end of long wings and a spiked sail running down their backs. Colet took aim at the nearest and shot it with an icer, giving a small whoop as the creature pinwheeled down and the others retreated a little.

  ‘Luck to you,’ Lynx said to Atieno, leaving him to it.

  The old mage didn’t reply as they hurried away.

  Chapter 44

  ‘Keep moving!’ Toil yelled as the sound of gunfire erupted from somewhere close. White streaks of icers darted harmlessly overhead.

  ‘Bug!’ someone shouted in response and two of the Cards fired.

  Toil glanced back, then left and right. They had come to an open stretch of ground, fifty yards of almost no cover, but couldn’t afford to stop. The maspids were trying to herd them, she could feel it. They had used up a lot of ammunition fighting them off. The maspids had relented after a mauling, but there were more out there and they were getting bolder.

  Or blood- and magic-crazed, Toil reminded herself. She’d rarely seen the creatures act so aggressively, not towards so many armed troops. The madness infecting the cavern had reached even those patient hunters.

  ‘Fuck!’ yelled a woman on their right flank, Joas. The curse turned into a wail as she took a few limping steps and Toil realised something was caught on her leg. She didn’t recognise it, had to hope it wasn’t venomous because they weren’t stopping for anything or anyone.

  ‘Guns!’ Payl called from the left flank.

  Immediately, half the Cards swivelled in response while Reft stumbled and needed Deern to keep him upright. A knot of soldiers emerged from around a clump of bulbous plants. Someone fired at them and they yelped, ducking back behind the dark, rounded humps.

  ‘Hold!’ Toil yelled before a volley could shred the meagre cover.

  ‘What the fuck?’ Payl shouted back, mage-gun still level even as they kept moving on.

  ‘Look!’ Toil said. ‘Those are called corpse seats.’

  There was movement from behind the plants, Charnelers setting their backs against it as they loaded burners most likely. In response, the corpse seat crumpled and vented a gout of gas from slits all around its side. A flurry of movement and more gas followed then everything fell silent.

  ‘Don’t touch the plants,’ Toil hissed as she turned back around. ‘Fuck!’

  A pair of maspids were creeping forward, trying to make up the ground while the Cards were distracted. A sparker burst the head of one open but the other simply charged in response. A pair of icers slammed into it but it carried on running, lunging with both forelegs at the nearest Cards. Layir winged it with an earther, spinning it around and tearing off a pair of legs, but the crazed beast only thrashed harder. It stabbed one man in the throat before someone could impale it with a spear.

  The wounded man, Dortrinas, staggered, with blood running from his neck. Layir caught him before he fell but one look at the wound was enough. Rather than leave the man to die alone, he hugged Dortrinas close and snapped his neck.

  ‘Go!’ Toil shouted. ‘Fuck, it’s gaining!’

  She’d made the mistake of looking back. The deepgod was indeed closer, its inhuman gaze sweeping left and right across the cavern. With the great spear-limbs it swept an arm to the left as though directing its human servants. Toil didn’t want to see if that was in fact its intention, but she never got the chance as the sound of concentrated gunfire roared over them.

  The Cards cringed instinctively, all thinking they were dead, but no streaks of light slammed into them. Instead, the blaze of icers and burners crashed over the savage, horn-covered head of a golantha emerging into view.

  Tanglethorn clumps and other lethal foliage were crushed underfoot as the glowing trails of its strange tongue drank the furious magic hurled at it. The volley faltered as shot after shot had no effect. It darted forward, moving with that terrifying speed they’d seen from its cousin in Shadows Deep.

  Toil looked back at the deepgod and saw it lunge with its spear-limbs. The smaller beast darted out of the way, a red-robed figure enveloped in the glowing tendrils of its tongue as lightning burst uselessly around its head. With its prize secured, the golantha retreated, keeping clear of the deepgod and clearly the faster of the two.

  ‘Toil Deshar!’ shouted a voice from behind her. She jerked around, recognition turning swiftly to panic. They were penned in. Knots of Charnelers had appeared behind and off to the right, while the deepgod’s abortive pursuit of the golantha cut off their escape on the left.

  At the fore stood a man she’d never thought to see again. Thinner, standing awkwardly and dressed like no relic hunter she’d ever seen, stood Sotorian Bade. The man who’d left her to die in the dark and she’d returned the favour amid fire. The man she’d been certain was dead up until this moment.

  ‘Seems like life’s got a sense o’ humour, eh?’ Bade yelled. ‘Here we are, honours even and everything to play for.’

  ‘I preferred it when you were dead, Bade,’ Toil replied. ‘But this monster’s lackey shit, that’s a new low all the same.’

  Bade laughed but it turned into a pained cough and she realised he hadn’t escaped the firestorm in Jarrazir unscathed.

  Might be he’s holding a grudge here, Toil realised.

  ‘Lackey?’ he repeated once he’d recovered his breath. ‘Oh, if only you knew, girly.’

  Toil glanced back at the looming bulk of the deepgod. ‘You lot ready?’ she muttered to the Cards. ‘If anyone’s got a good idea, now’s the time.’

  ‘If only I knew?’ she shouted. ‘A new world order, is it? New glory, a rightful god reclaiming its domains? Fucking spare me, you preening shitweasel.’

  ‘Spare you? Oh I don’t think so, bitch,’ Bade roared back. ‘But I’ll damn well make sure this time, that much I can promise.’

  ‘Where are the others?’ Lynx called to Kas as the line of Cards scanned the dark plateau for more threats.

  They had seen off the flock of carrion-eaters but there were maspids lurking behind clumps of tanglethorn, watching and waiting. A speculative icer hadn’t dissuaded them and the Cards didn’t have enough ammunition to try more. Lynx tugged the red scarf from around his neck and wiped the sweat and grime from his face.

  ‘Shit – they’re cornered,’ Kas replied.

  Lynx broke off his search, leaving the others to keep watch. He ascended the steps a little way to join Kas. Behind her, Atieno continued to work at the stone, using short bursts and driving his arm almost all the way into the rock. His skin, hair and clothes were all covered in white ash while his tattoos continued to shine.

  ‘We’re running out of time, old man!’ Lynx said as he followed Kas’s outstretched finger.

  The Cards were easy enough to spot, exposed and in the open while the deepgod moved closer, engaged in its own stand-off. With a jolt he, realised both monsters seemed to have a skirmish line around them, maspids arrayed on the flanks of the golantha with no regard to its presence and threat.

  Do they communicate too? Is it just a beast they recognise and don’t need to fear?

  ‘They’re caught in the open,’ Lynx realised, seeing the Cards flanked by two small groups of Charnelers. Either one they would take in a straight fight, but in a cross-fire Lynx didn’t like their chance.

  ‘We need to help,’ Kas said, opening the case to her mage-tipped arrows. ‘Get an icer loaded.’

  ‘Already done,’ Lynx said, ‘but that’s a to
ugh shot.’ All the same he knelt and rested his elbow on the low wall running up the side of the stair.

  ‘We’ve no fucking no time for difficult,’ Kas said, pulling a white-tipped arrow and drawing her bow. ‘Make it or we die.’

  Lynx nodded. ‘No time for difficult,’ he muttered, closing one eye. ‘Call it.’

  Kas was quiet a short while, readying her shot. Lynx realised he’d seen her practising with the bulky clay-tipped arrows on the march here, but had been too tired to notice. Now, Toil’s life and that of all the rest of the Cards too, might hang on those hours spent before they collapsed asleep each evening.

  After what seemed like an age she let the arrow fly with a soft grunt. ‘Fire,’ she said as she reached for another arrow.

  Lynx fired. It was hard to make out the individual figures in the gloom. They were over two hundred yards away, which was a hard enough shot anyway. Only his mage-blessed eyes gave him any hope. When he pulled the trigger and felt the kick against his shoulder, he could barely still see what the thin white streak of killing cold hit.

  ‘Get moving, Atieno,’ Kas called, aiming again. ‘We’re running out of time!’

  ‘I’m done – Estal!’

  The other woman raced over, ushering Atieno out of the way as she pulled a bulky shape from her grenade bag. Lynx glimpsed the dull surface of a small earth-bomb – far from the most powerful of those they’d found in the armoury, but as big as they could sensibly carry.

  He turned back to see the last sparks of Kas’s lighting-arrow crackle around the remains of the nearer Charneler group. Some were down, others fleeing, but more importantly the Cards were firing. A volley of gunshots had erupted from them, sparkers and burners roaring out at both Charneler units in the same instant. A few return shots slammed into the Cards, but the savagery of their assault had won them a moment’s reprieve.

  ‘Maspids!’ Aben shouted over the snap of icer shots.

  ‘Hold them!’ Lynx yelled back. ‘We can’t move yet. Himbel, get down here!’

  Kas turned, a third arrow nocked. She drew and tilted a little higher. Fortunately there was no wind but it was even harder to aim an arrow than it was an icer at two hundred yards.

  ‘Is that a—?’ Lynx asked, spotting the arrow out of the corner of his eye. It was another black-tipped one.

  ‘We need the golantha to attack,’ Kas growled.

  Lynx didn’t argue, knowing she was right. Kas fired. The arrow vanished into the high gloom of the cavern and Lynx didn’t even see it land. All they could tell was the reaction of the deepgod. Uninjured as the arrow missed, it still recoiled from the burst of dark magic. Astonishingly, it retreated a few steps, searching for its attacker, then in a heart-stopping moment it froze. Lynx felt its eyes on him like a crash of ice.

  ‘I think you got its attention,’ he muttered. ‘Oh fuck.’

  ‘Atieno!’ Kas yelled. ‘Quick and rough, there’s no time for careful!’

  The old mage muttered something that Lynx didn’t catch, but it made Kas grin. Atieno walked up the inside edge of the pillar, hand on the rough stone and tattoos blazing bright. Soon Lynx felt the tug in his own, not just a draw of magic but something wild hauling at him as though the Cards were a leash. Shifting blue light flared around Atieno’s whole body, a long shaft of magic punching blade-like into the great pillar. After that pulse of power, Atieno continued up the stair, turning the rock white as his fingers trailed past it. Lynx left him to it as a great wall of fire exploded twenty yards away, further down the plateau. Mage-gun raised, he tracked a shape against the orange light and fired.

  ‘On the right!’ someone shouted. Lynx turned to see more maspids approaching up the slope from the ground, using the elevation as cover. Himbel was first to react, firing wildly across the maspids but at least making them pause. Kas had two arrows in her hand after that and made them both count, by which time Aben had found a sparker.

  The maspids retreated – not far, but seven broken and scorched bodies remained behind to give them a warning. Lynx glanced towards the gunfire surrounding the main deck of Cards then shook his head. He had enough to worry about. Toil’s group were just going to have to find a way.

  Chapter 45

  Icers erupted in all directions. One of the Cards was yelling, an exultant blood-fury as they ran and fired. The first volley and the attack from the plateau had given them a chance. Fire and lightning carved a small space and now they ran for it. Through it all she heard Bade’s voice, raging, taunting above the chaos. Half-mad he’d seemed, not the man she’d hated once. Toil let the voice wash over her, focused on the reloading and firing. Let him be the one to hesitate, to need her fear or her hate. She just wanted to survive.

  The Cards pursued Bade’s squads, or what remained anyway. They had scattered, those who weren’t dead or screaming. Their last grenade had been tossed at the Charnelers behind – a crackler ripping through them to ensure the Cards didn’t get shot down before they could reach cover.

  All pretence at stealth and care was gone. Not even Toil checked the ground as she ran. Anything not moving wasn’t even seen in the light-slashed darkness. They passed a pair of Charnelers struggling desperately, half-engulfed by tanglethorn, and worked their way towards the plateau. A sparker slammed into their ragged formation, one Card taking the full force of the shot. Her eyes burst as lightning flooded from her mouth. A figure of nightmare turned on her comrades as Burnel fell and its jagged claws ripped at those beside her. One fell. It was Anatin, and someone at the back grabbed his flailing arm.

  The Prince of Sun screamed in pain but there was no time to heed him. He was dragged on by Varain and only when they stopped at a fork did someone haul the man back to his feet. Safir and Layir covered their retreat, shooting one Charneler lurking in the shadows. With guns empty and another Charneler reloading, Layir raced forward, scimitar flashing free and slashing, once, twice. In a fluid movement he dispatched the wounded soldier too.

  Behind them they saw the deepgod, moving with purpose now and seemingly also heading for the pillar. Its footfalls boomed a bass note through the clatter of battle, shaking the ground under their feet but, as it came, the golantha raced in on its flank and leaped for a spear-limb.

  Toil was transfixed as the smaller creature grabbed and bit in one movement. It threw its full weight against the deepgod and made it stagger. The main group of Charnelers howled and fired, icers and sparkers smashing uselessly against the golantha’s side. It wrenched left and right, tearing with all its might but letting go before the deepgod could strike back. Again those spear-limbs slashed at nothing but now the other arms were employed. A glow of magic surrounded them as the deepgod’s hands grabbed at a rocky outcrop, pulling chunks free with impossible ease and hurling them at the golantha.

  Agile as it was, it couldn’t dodge both in time. The impact of one boulder spun it around before slamming it into a wall. The golantha fell heavily – obviously not dead but now vulnerable. The Charnelers started to fire again but the deepgod only regarded it a few seconds longer before turning away.

  Fuck, it’s more interested in Atieno! Toil realised.

  ‘Move!’ she howled at the Cards.

  They ran on, straight into a pair of maspids that seemed as shocked as they were. The maspids reacted faster though, slashing and grabbing at the nearest Cards. One man fell, wounded, but the other was Reft and, despite his injuries, the big man had his axe ready. Shifting to the side, he chopped into the nearer beast’s neck. It thrashed at him in reply and Toil saw the splash of blood before Deern shot it. That hurt this beast and Reft used all his great strength to make sure. The other tried to drag Llaith, away, but Suth shot twice in rapid succession and put the beast down.

  It was the last thing she ever did. Toil never even saw where the shot came from, but an icer ripped through the dark and punched a hole in Suth’s head. The gunfighter dropped without a sound but there were no other shots, just screams from several throats that suggested something had pou
nced on the Cards.

  Toil looked left and right, momentarily overwhelmed by all the movement – unable to think straight amid utter confusion. The tracker, Brel, yelled something in her face that she couldn’t make out, but the man didn’t wait to see her reaction. He dragged her onward as the Cards barged past. Someone tripped as they went. She saw them vanish from her eyeline as Deern shouted another warning and earthers boomed out.

  Stumbling on, Toil glanced back, trying to see who they’d left behind and finally saw a man called Ulax pick himself up. The veteran swore, looking more irritated than anything else, then snapped a shot off at someone behind him. A blistering sparker trail lashed back at him from somewhere unseen. It wrapped Ulax in light, froze him in jagged agony then his cartridge case exploded. Fire and light erupted out, a blinding flash of power that made Toil howl and Brel yelp in terror as flames chased them away.

  Now the deepgod roared – the boom of thunder overlaying everything as it echoed around the cavern. The Cards didn’t stop moving, the sound was so close they only had thoughts of flight. The other golantha had vanished into the cavern’s darkness along with all the other horrors of the deepest black. Her world had contracted to the dozen yards ahead of her, glowing foliage and snarling mercenaries. Up ahead, she suddenly saw a face, the flash of a Charneler uniform appearing on top of a small rise. That seemed to snap her back to her senses and she raised her gun, slowing her progress just enough to get a bead, but they dropped back down out of sight before she could fire.

  ‘Fuck!’ Toil yelled, realising they might be ambushed in the next few seconds.

  She barged her way forwards, swapping in a burner as she went, then ran up the steep slope as the rest of the Cards slowed – wary of rounding the corner. Moving blind – unwilling to pop her head over the top – Toil simply hauled herself most of the way up and held her gun one-handed over the rise. She didn’t aim, just pulled the trigger.

  The stream of fire surged down. She felt the heat, glimpsed its light amid the blur of falling backwards, heard the shrieks. The mage-gun was ripped from her grip by the recoil and her foot slipped underneath her. Just before Toil hit the ground a vice-like grip snatched up her arm and righted her, causing her shoulder socket to scream with pain but her feet hit the ground first. She ended up crouched on the dirt floor, gasping while the Cards charged the space beyond. Guns and knives made short work of whoever they’d found there.