“Begging your pardon, m’lady,” one of the Watchers interrupted. Nervously kneading his bow between white knuckles, the young man fell suddenly silent, squirming bashfully before E’enna’s expectant gaze.
“Out with it, man!” Ilagon snapped impatiently.
“Yes, sir!” The young Halifexian shook the enamored glaze from his face. “There may be one passage into Ruin that the black army has overlooked, though you may find the way more unpleasant than facing the horde itself.”
“Just tell us what you know,” Kazen said.
“It’s the ocean, sir. They think they’re so clever, flushing their waste out to sea.”
“Waste?” E’enna grimaced.
“Well, yes.” The Watcher shrugged sheepishly. “Rotten food, animal carcasses, and well, other . . . things. Things that I’m sure wouldn’t be fit to mention in the presence of a lady.”
E’enna rolled her eyes. “Go on, then.”
“Yes, w-well,” he stammered awkwardly, “most of the rubbish washes out to sea, but sometimes the tide washes it right back to shore. When that happens, it’s a smell you won’t soon forget. But what I’m getting at is that much of what they discard is rather large, carcasses of pigs and dogs. It seems to me that if an opening is big enough for a whole pig to slip out of, it might be big enough for a man to slip back into.”
“Have you seen this opening?” Ilagon asked, his interest clearly piqued.
“No, m’lord, it lies beneath the level of the tide.”
“What guards do you know of on the ocean side of the hold?” Shanks asked.
“There are guards posted along the outer walls of every level, to be sure, but they keep watch for approaching ships. What notice would they take to a few heads bobbing in the water?”
“Indeed,” Shanks pondered, stroking his beard.
“You’re not really considering this,” E’enna balked.
“It’s a good plan,” Kazen admitted.
E’enna gawked in disgust. “If you think I’m going to splash around in the excrement of every man, animal, and demon that abides in that stronghold, you are very sadly mistaken.”
“Come now, darlin’,” Shanks snickered, “I’m sure we’ve had to do worse.”
“I don’t believe we have,” E’enna grumbled.
“That water is going to be cold,” Ilagon supposed. “And we will have to start a fair distance down the beach to avoid being seen. Are your men up for that, soldier?”
“We’re no slackers,” the Watcher answered. “We’re in this as thick as you, m’lord. You just need to give us the order.”
“All right, then.” Ilagon smiled, putting a hand on the man’s shoulder. “You are good men, all of you. Ready the others.”
“Right away, m’lord!” Beaming proudly, the young Watcher turned on his heels and began barking orders at the other men.
“Well,” Shanks said, grinning, “seems we might yet make it to the end of this journey after all! Just a quick dip, and then up we go! I for one am looking forward to being done with all this shadow nonsense. What say you, Kazen? This is your day, after all. After you smite Gregore, you should probably have a speech, or at least a few words of wisdom prepared. You know, something notable. Something memorable, but short enough that it can be etched upon the marble statues raised in your honor.”
Dropping his head low, Kazen’s face fell to a sickly green. As he turned and slumped away, both E’enna and Ilagon shot an accusing glance at Shanks.
“What?” Shanks queried defensively. He was answered by a slap from the back of E’enna’s hand across his shoulder. “What!” he groaned with a frustrated flap of his arms.
“Kazen,” Ilagon called, hurrying after him. “Kazen, wait.”
“What is the point?” Kazen spun around to face his uncle. “We should not have come here, any of us. We cannot win.”
“You do not believe that.”
“Look around us!” Kazen bid, waving his arms over the shattered lands. “Look at the power Gregore commands!” Raising his hand in front of his face, Kazen whispered to life a tiny ball of fire. “What can fire do against all this darkness?” Hope seemed to melt from his face as he stared at the small wisp of flame that danced on his open palm. “I don’t know how long we have journeyed for. Months, years . . . I cannot recall. But I do know I am no closer to understanding how I am supposed to defeat Gregore than I was on the day we left Napis Fare. I barely understand the little magic I have been able to use so far—if there is any real power within me I do not know what it is! I can call fire, but I am no stronger than you or any other wizard.”
“Your greatest power may not lie in your magic. Whether it is your courage, your heart, or the fire in your soul, there is some part of you that sets you apart from all others. There is a reason you were chosen for this task. You must trust in that.”
“There is nothing special about me!” Kazen snapped angrily.
“And what if there is not!” Ilagon retorted with equal bite. “What if you are just an ordinary wizard? Will you turn back? Of course you will not! And not because of some prophesy. Prophesies are only words etched in stone and parchment, and seldom do they speak of the heart of a man. Do you not see, Kazen, that just by being here on this day, for having traveled over deserts and icy mountains to enter into a forsaken land only on a whisper of hope, that you have already proven yourself to be more than ordinary? If hope and heart truly are you greatest powers, do not abandon them now. Take strength in your friends that stand with you, and in these men who have come all this way with only their courage to protect them.”
Shrugging away a tear that hung from his chin, Kazen looked at his uncle through grateful eyes. “I’m sorry. I should not be so quick to despair.”
“Well,” Ilagon grinned wryly. “you are only a man, after all.”
Together, they returned to camp and helped to rally the tired men to their feet. Keeping to the shadow of the tall peak that overlooked the sandy valley, they crept cautiously along the shoreline. With a constant eye on the comings and goings of the dark army, the party shrewdly opted for quiet stealth over speed. Carefully, and with great patience, they snuck across the naked hill, for once thankful for the murk of the shadows. They inched their way like scuttling crabs southward on hands and feet, until at last the black stronghold began to shrink in the distance.
Dropping to their bellies, Ilagon and Kazen crawled up the steep bank and peered over the top.
“Those dunes will make good cover,” Ilagon said, motioning with his head to a range of sandy mounds that stretched to the sea. “We are still a bit closer to the encampment than I would like, but we will have to chance it. If that water is as cold as it looks, it will be a struggle to swim even this far.”
Nodding, Kazen began to make his way down the hill when he heard a strange noise. So faint at first he thought it only his imagination, and then it came again, like a distant whistle of some unfamiliar bird. Though barely audible, it resounded painfully through his ears, jabbing like tiny pinpricks.
“Do you hear that?” he asked, rubbing the back of his head.
Ilagon cocked his head and listened for a moment. “I hear nothing but the ocean.”
As the sound grew steadily louder, Kazen was struck by a sudden stab of nausea. Clutching his stomach, a familiar and unnerving sensation washed over him. Watching a billow of steam rise from Ilagon’s lips, his heart quickened, and he pulled sword from over his shoulder. “Demon!” he hissed anxiously.
No sooner had he spoken than a piercing shriek sounded from above. Slicing through the black clouds like a blade through water, a great and horrific beast descended upon them. The very same demon that had preyed upon the dark army, it grew only more frightful the nearer it drew. Black as ash and equal the length of a dragon, it was a viper on wings. Thorny spikes ran the length of its spine down to the tip of its tenuous tail. Heinously large fangs jutted up and outward from its lower jaw, cresting over the top of its long, pointed s
nout. Vast wings, translucent in the pale light of day, sprouted from its sides in place of arms, while ridges of hollow bones spread beneath the tight stretches of fibrous skin, bent at elbow and wrist. Tucked beneath its body were its terrible talons. Curled up close under powerful legs, they were stained with the blood of countless victims. Soaring down on an icy wind, it brought with it a stench worse than rotting death.
With a deafening screech, the demon plummeted down, sailing just over the heads of the startled Watchers. As men scattered, the fell beast circled about on static wings, revealing its talons as it swooped down upon them again and again. Falling to the ground, the men reeled on their backs, desperately swatting at the swiping claws with their swords.
Already bellowing a hasty chant, Kazen bounded down the hillside. Hurling his hands over his head, he cast a rippling wave of fire at the creature. Swatted from the sky, like a bird pelted by stone, the demon tumbled to the ground with an angry shriek. In a tangle of flapping wings and flailing claws, it writhed about, stirring up great clouds of sand and dust, smothering the wisps of flames that clung to its body. Black smoke rising from its back, the demon whipped its head from side to side, finally resting its glowing red eyes on Kazen. With an evil hiss, it crouched onto jointed wings and began to crawl with great strides across the rocky soil.
His mouth agape, Kazen took a step backward and launched another wave of flames at the beast. Shrieking in pain, the creature stumbled back, flames rippling down its long neck, smoke wafting from its smoldering wings. Undaunted, the demon dug into the rocky soil and charged forward in a fierce rage.
“Kazen!” E’enna shouted.
The beast barreling towards him, Kazen took a deep breath and sank his feet into the sandy soil. Sweeping his arms across his chest, he unleashed a torrent of fire on the creature. Completely engulfed in flames, the demon tumbled forward on momentum alone. Leaping to the side, Kazen shielded his eyes from the beast, now a scathing fireball, as it careened past him. Finally rolling to a stop, the demon, at least all that was left of it, twitched and convulsed as the flames peeled away the last of its living flesh.
The Watchers, leaping to their feet, cheered wildly. Rushing joyously to Kazen’s side, they saluted him and patted him on the back in admiration.
“Quiet yourselves!” Shanks commanded, slinking on his belly up the side of the hill. “And douse that fire!” Peering over the top of the hill, he quickly ducked his head back down again. He slowly shook his head, his shoulders fallen and his face struck pale. “It’s no good. We’ve got company on the way.”
“How much company?” Kazen asked warily. But he could already hear the clambering of feet and the grumbling of many voices.
“Too many,” Shanks groaned with a roll of his eyes.
“We can take cover behind the dunes,” Kazen suggested.
“They’ll find us.”
His eyes darting across the horizon, Kazen searched frantically for an answer. “All right, then,” he finally conceded. “We will have to make a stand here. We . . . We can finish off this garrison and make a run for the beach before they have an opportunity to send for reinforcements.”
Shanks shook his head. “At the first sounds of battle, half of that army down there will be on top of this hill.” Flashing a potent gaze at E’enna, the two lingered in each other’s eyes for a long moment before Shanks returned his attention back to Kazen. “It’s time.”
Wrinkling his brow, Kazen shrugged at the vague statement.
“It’s time for you to go, Kazen,” E’enna said through tearful eyes, brushing her hand against his.
“Go? Where am I going?”
“We’ll hold them here,” Shanks said, unsheathing the long blades from over his back.
“What?” Kazen gawked, finally scoffing at the absurd notion. “No. I’m not leaving you.”
“Stay in the cover of the dunes,” Shanks prattled on, ignoring the objection.
“Stop it!” Kazen demanded.
“Make haste, but stay low along the beach until you reach the water.”
“Just stop it!” Kazen bellowed in frustration, shoving Shanks backward with a push of his arms. “You can just stop it already because I am not leaving you here!”
Lunging forward, Shanks grabbed Kazen up by a fistful of his shirt, and pulled his face close to his own. “We have not come this far to be defeated now!” he barked. “Only you can end this nightmare! Now go!” Tossing Kazen backward, he shot a pleading glance to Ilagon. “Take him!”
“Come, Kazen!” Ilagon urged him, tugging on Kazen’s arm.
Kazen yanked his arm free of his uncle’s grasp. “No!” he shrieked, tears streaming down his face. “We stay together! Please, Shanks! Do not do this! You cannot hold them yourselves! E’enna!”
Wiping a tear from her own cheek, E’enna leaned into Shanks’ chest and smiled bravely. “Go, Kazen. Bring back the light.”
Suddenly hoisted off his feet, Kazen found himself being dragged up the side of steep hill. Crying out in rage and grief, he struggled to free himself from Ilagon’s iron grip. As he was wrestled to the peak of the high rise, he could see his friends, and all that remained of the Watchers of Halifex, rushing to meet the drove of armed mercenaries that flooded over the hillside. And then he was falling. Tumbling head over heels down the sheer embankment, he landed on his side with a painful thud. Blinded by sand, and choked by a cloud of dust, he clambered to his knees, ready to turn and go back up.
Sighing heavily, Ilagon placed a warm hand on Kazen’s head. “Our friends have put all their faith in us. We must trust them, as well.” Rising to his feet, he slid against the low rise of sandy dunes, which rose up from the beach like swells of placid mountains. “All of the dangers we have passed through, every tedious step over desert and mountain has led us to this final stretch of sand. Now on your feet, Kazen, we must move swiftly. Let us make sure that our friends’ faith in us is not misplaced.”
Chapter 27
His heart broken and his body numbed by the chill in the air, Kazen trudged behind Ilagon as quickly and carefully as his wobbly legs would allow him. Hugging the rolling dunes, which rose and fell in erratic peaks and plunging valleys, they inched their way nearer and nearer the billowing sea. As the salty smell of ocean spray grew stronger and the first shimmers of white foam spilling from the breaking waves could be seen, so did the cover of the sandy dunes abruptly end. Peeking past the wall of sand, Kazen had a clear view of the dark army, which milled busily about the foot of the stronghold.
“It’s still quite a stretch to the water,” Kazen whispered, uneasily eyeing the open distance between them and the black ocean. “We won’t make it.”
“Yes, we will,” Ilagon answered with confidence as he slid down to his belly and peered around the lowest of the dunes.
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because we are left with no other choice.” Ilagon shrugged matter-of-factly, inching himself forward. “Slow and steady, flat to the ground. Stay close to me, and make no sudden movements.”
Groaning, Kazen reluctantly flattened himself against the cool sand and began to crawl his way out into the open. Following close behind Ilagon, he kept an unblinking watch on Gregore’s army and the swarm of demons that writhed in the dark recesses beneath the foot of Ruin. Feeling like a mouse sneaking past a den of snakes, he slipped warily through the soft sand, pressing himself as flat as he could to the ground.
He watched with unease as two armed soldiers, marching on patrol, worked their way dutifully down the shoreline. Both he and Ilagon froze like startled deer, watching as the soldiers neared so close that Kazen could clearly make out the telltale tattoos carved into their necks. Holding his breath, he stared in utter disbelief as the two soldiers scanned the distant horizon, taking no notice of the trembling bodies that cowered only a stone’s throw from their feet. Satisfied, the two soldiers turned on their heels and began to march back to the encampment, leaving Kazen and Ilagon to breathe again.
>
With a renewed sense of urgency, the pair hastily scuttled across the beach until finally Kazen felt the touch of wet sand beneath his clawing hands. Recoiling from the icy stab of the cold water, he instantly felt as though they had made a terrible mistake. A frosty breath of sea breeze wafted over him, sending his body into a fit of shivers and quakes. In front of him, the vast ocean, black and furious, rolled into the horizon, slipping beneath the shadow and stretching out to the ends of the world.
“The water is like ice.” Kazen shuddered, shoving his cold hands beneath his folded arms. “We will never make it to the stronghold.”
“It is not as far as it looks,” Ilagon said, pulling the boots from his feet and burying them in the lose sand. “The key is to keep moving, keep the blood flowing.”
Reluctantly unlacing his own boots, Kazen cast his gaze over his shoulder toward the steep bank, which bordered the low-lying shore. Beyond the haze of shadow he could see no trace of the friends he had left behind, or of the dark soldiers who pursued them. E’enna and Shanks were risking their very lives to give him this one chance, and he could not fail them now.
“I suppose there’s no turning back.” He sighed, dipping his bare toes into the frothing puddle that seeped up within the shallow imprint left by his hand.
“Deep, even breaths,” Ilagon said, sliding on his belly across the wet sand. “Gasping and shuddering will only tire you faster.”
Rising to his knees to meet the first wave, even Ilagon could not hide the shock on his face as the bitter sea crashed over his chest and shoulders. His hands instantly curled into rigid balls and his arms involuntarily seized to his chest as every muscle in his body simultaneously retracted. For a moment it seemed as though he might even collapse as a second wave pounded into his torso, but he quickly regained his composure and shouldered his way stubbornly into the coming tide.
Taking a deep breath, Kazen, still crouched to the ground, edged his way to the surging sea. Wading into the icy water was like sloshing through a sea of broken glass, each step more torturous than the last. The black slime, which lay like an oily skin upon the rolling waves, clung to his legs, leaving no escape from the bitter cold. As the first wave broke in front of him it was the sting of the salty spray on his face that he felt first. Squinting through burning eyes, his breath was instantly stolen as the frigid wave crashed into his chest. Feeling as though he had been pelted by a slab of solid ice, he stumbled backward, nearly losing his footing.
The Flame Weaver Page 35