“Your men on the street are dead,” Gor hissed over the flames, “and your western defenses are crumbling. I suggest you gather whatever soldiers you have left and make a final stand inside the armory.”
Adar coughed and leaned up. “What about Tevek and Selvhara?”
“I don’t know,” the chagari rasped as he leaned down over Tam. “He’s alive. Bring him with you to the armory—I will attempt to find Selvhara.”
“But what about—”
Gor was already gone. Unleashing another monstrous roar, the chagari leapt back out into the street and disappeared. Adar crawled forward until he reached Tam, and he slung the younger man over his shoulder.
“Come on, kid,” he grunted. “This isn’t over yet.”
***
For the first time since he had abandoned his life as a mercenary and joined the Zarul, Garin Kroll felt a twinge of nervousness deep in his gut. He should have been just as excited as when he’d smashed into the rebel compound. He would soon have the opportunity to break another Bound, after all, and a Knight of the Last Dawn at that. But the battle had taken a turn for the worse during his trek across the docks, and nearly half his team had already been killed or incapacitated. The rebels had suffered even heavier casualties, but their deaths were irrelevant. They had never been a serious threat to the Zarul; all that mattered was retrieving the divine spark.
The problem was that a new player had entered the game. One by one, his advanced scouts swarming around the safe house had begun to disappear. Three had already fallen silent, and the other four were starting to panic. As a rule, none of the rebels were skilled or fearless enough to brazenly hunt down a pack of Imperators…with one notable exception.
The Asgardian is stalking us, he told the others. I will draw her out. Be prepared to move in on my signal, but not before—the paladin is likely inside with the cube.
They mentally confirmed his orders, and Kroll took another moment to scan the nearby rooftops for movement. He had perched himself atop one of the taller residences to get a better view of the safe house and to try and flush out the huntress, but so far she seemed content to ignore him. That would undoubtedly change the moment he actually approached the building, however, and one way or another it was time to end this. He was a soldier, not an infiltrator, and he was quite sick of playing the bait.
Sheathing himself in a protective barrier, Kroll stood from his perch and leapt across the rooftop to the adjacent building. Between the street-side glowlamps and faint moonlight, she should have been able to see him moving, and he kept expecting an arrow to strike his barrier at any moment. But the huntress was surprisingly patient, especially for a brutish Asgardian, and Kroll closed within leaping distance of the safe house before he caught a flicker of motion out of the corner of his eye. He immediately flattened himself against the triangular rooftop to give himself cover, but when no shot was forthcoming he felt his breath catch in his throat—he hadn’t felt this exposed in years, and he was already sick of it. Once he finally caught up with this bitch, he would have to make certain she suffered for forcing him to play her ridiculous game.
Be ready, he told his squad. If she doesn’t make her move, we’re going in.
Only three confirmations came back this time, and Kroll bit down on his lip. Yes, she was definitely going to suffer for this…
A choked off yelp echoed across the street, and another of the Imperators vanished from Kroll’s mind. He leaned forward just in time to catch a tall figure vanish back into the shadows…and then suddenly a crossbow bolt streaked out of the darkness and pelted him in the chest.
Without his Aetheric barrier, he would have been dead. Without his barrier and his armor, he probably would have been dead. The impact of the shot still knocked the wind from his lungs, and Kroll released his grip on the rooftop and allowed himself to slide off. He caught his fingers on the railing for just a moment to slow his fall before dropping to the alley street. Once she noticed that he wasn’t dead, she would presumably try to finish this job…and that meant he had the distraction he needed.
Get the spark, he ordered his men. Now!
Kroll channeled Aether through his body and prepared a spell for the instant the huntress finally revealed herself. He didn’t have to wait long—less than ten seconds later he caught another flicker of movement from an overhang of a building about eighty feet away. He had no idea how a normal woman could have moved so quickly, but it didn’t matter. Even as she lined up another shot, Kroll made his move.
Reaching out with the Aether, he caught her body in a telekinetic grip and slammed it downwards. He couldn’t muster his full power from his range, but the force was still sufficient: the huntress tumbled from her perch, and Kroll found himself hoping that she didn’t break her neck in the fall—it would have been a shame to lose the opportunity to kill her face-to-face. But his fears were quickly proven unfounded when she hit the cobblestone in a smooth roll and hopped back up into a crouch.
At forty feet, it was a trivial task for Kroll to telekinetically grab her crossbow and wrench it from her grip; at twenty, he was tempted to grip her around the waist and fling her down the street like a ragdoll. But to his surprise—and delight—she didn’t try to dive back into the shadows or even turn tail and run. Instead she drew a pair of axes from her belt and charged.
Kroll couldn’t help but admire her tenacity. She had to know that she was beaten; no mere vorhang could hope to stand against a channeler when caught out in the open like this. He could crush her bones or turn her into a flaming cinder with a flick of his wrist, but she wasn’t afraid. Unlike the feeble Bound parasites that leached their power from a superior being, this woman fought with her own heart and body. She was a true warrior. And for that, Kroll decided he would grant her a warrior’s death.
Her axes met his blade with a shower of sparks, and the force of the impact nearly bowled him over. But they both stood their ground, and the unmistakable clatter of steel colliding with steel echoed down the street. Her attacks were savage and unrelenting, but also surprisingly skilled; he had never seen such raw ferocity before, not even from other Asgardians. She seemed completely unconcerned with her own defense, which should have made her an easy kill…but the sheer relentlessness of her attacks never gave him the chance to retaliate.
For a brief and bizarre instant, Kroll felt empathy for this woman. He suddenly wanted to learn more about her; he wanted to understand why she was willing to risk her life for a band of pitiful foreign rebels and an ancient relic she couldn’t possibly understand. But sadly, he knew he would never get those answers. He had already humored her enough, and now she was out of time.
Even as he madly backpedaled to escape her latest furious assault, Kroll summoned the Aether into his free hand and then slammed a fist of telekinetic force into her torso. The huntress flew backwards as if she had been struck by a raging bull, and she smashed into a stone wall some twenty feet away. Her axes clattered to the ground, and she crumpled into a limp heap.
Kroll took a moment to seal his minor wounds before stepping forward to inspect her more closely. She was alive but unconscious; and he actually found himself smiling grimly. He lifted her chin and brought his blade to her throat, but somehow that didn’t seem like an appropriate way to finish her off. No, he had promised her a warrior’s death, and that was exactly what he would deliver.
“May the Void be gentle with your soul,” he said. “And may the fields of eternity be rife with game.”
Leaning backwards, Kroll lined up his sword with her heart—
And then a shimmering disc of blue energy smacked into his arm and sent his blade clattering across the cobblestone. Kroll turned, mouth agape…
Descending from the rooftop, shining blue-white feathery wings sprouting from her back, the second paladin raised her sword towards him.
“You have one chance,” she told him. “Surrender or die.”
***
The Crell attack had come without warning
. One minute Jason was pacing back and forth across the room, drawing irritated glances from both women sitting there with him, and the next he was frozen stiff as the screams of battle seeped in through the boarded-up windows. A volley of bolts bombarded the door, and the clashing swords soon accompanied them.
Ria swore and dropped away from the window. “Get down!”
Jason crouched behind several crates and pulled free his crossbow. Elade had shifted slightly to the side of the window, but she didn’t drop prone. Instead she unsheathed her long, slender sabre, and a blue disc of energy materialized on her left arm.
“Assist them,” Elade told Ria, gesturing to the street. “I’m getting Jason out of here.”
“What?” the other woman snapped. “You can’t just—”
“Head out the back door,” Elade ordered him, ignoring Ria. She glanced upwards at the ceiling. “The frontal assault is just a distraction. He doesn’t need doors.”
Jason shook his head “Who doesn’t need a door?”
“The Crell leader,” she said, her voice disturbingly calm. “Go. Now!”
He started to protest, but Elade was already gone. One instant she had been standing there in the darkness by the window, and in the next the space was simply empty. It was as if the shadows had swallowed her whole.
“That cowardly bitch!” Ria snapped. “Where the hell did she go?’
“I would do what she said,” Jason suggested, scurrying over to the building’s rear entrance. It was locked and barred from the inside, and ostensibly they had two men on the street outside covering it…but who knew if they were still alive.
Ria cursed again and smashed open the window. She started firing shots out into the darkness, but it was so dark Jason doubted she was actually hitting anything. Clenching his teeth, he took in a deep breath and yanked off the brace holding the door shut. He didn’t hear anything outside, but that didn’t mean much; Zarul agents could easily be standing out there waiting to stab or shoot him the minute he pushed it open. Hoping desperately Elade knew what she was doing, Jason leveled his crossbow and shoved the door open—
And was immediately greeted by a fresh corpse. Not one of the rebels, thankfully, but apparently one of the Crell. A bolt was lodged into the back of his skull, and a pool of blood had already spilled out across the cobblestone beneath him. Farther down the street to his left, Jason heard the distant ringing of blades. Mentally crossing his fingers, he spun around the corner.
In the dim moonlight, he could only just make out the figures of two people locked in a frantic melee about a hundred feet away. He watched for a moment, unable to discern friend from foe, when suddenly one of the figures was hurled violently against the wall. Just before the body impacted, a very familiar grunt reached his ears.
Sarina.
Jason dashed out of the building, ignoring Ria’s cries of protest. He had barely left the doorway when Sarina’s attacker stooped down over her body, a glimmer of light reflecting off his sword. Jason froze in his tracks and lined up a shot. He couldn’t see well at all, but perhaps he could at least get the man’s attention—
Without warning, a shimmering blue disc of light flew down from the building above and smacked into the attacker. His sword clattered to the ground, and Elade descended into the alleyway, a luminous pair of feathery wings guiding her descent.
“You have one chance,” she said. “Surrender or die.”
The man stood. He muttered something too softly for Jason to hear, but he raised his hands in surrender. Jason didn’t wait for Elade’s response; he bolted forward. The vaeyn was in the way of his shot now anyway, and he needed to check on Sarina. He made it about halfway to her body when Elade suddenly staggered backwards and the Crell deftly flipped away to retrieve his lost sword.
The paladin looked weakened and surprised, and Jason couldn’t make out what she was saying with the evening wind whipping in his ears. But she lunged forward and pressed the attack, pulling the Crell soldier away far enough for Jason to kneel down over Sarina’s body.
She still had a pulse, but she had split open the back of her head. He had several vials of healing salve on his belt, but they weren’t going to cut it with an injury like this. He needed a real channeler, preferably Selvhara.
“Just hang in there,” he whispered, glancing back to the battle. The Crell was on the defensive, doing everything he could to create space, but Elade was not making it easy. Jason knew he would be able to get a clear shot, so instead he filtered the hilt of his sword.
“Get her out of here!” Elade called out just before she lunged forward and continued her frantic duel. Jason desperately wanted to help, but he knew he would probably only get in the way. So instead he ground his teeth together and slung Sarina over his shoulder.
He ran as quickly as he could while lugging along an Asgardian warrior wearing twenty plus pounds of gear, and it wasn’t until he’d almost returned to the safe house that he realized he probably should have taken off in the opposite direction. What if Ria and the others had already been overrun? What if the Zarul were just waiting for him inside?
Grimacing, he pressed forward anyway. He wasn’t going to make it far lugging around a body, and if the Crell had—
His thought shattered when a fist of force pummeled him between the shoulder blades and knocked him forward. Sarina’s body flipped from his grip, and he smacked his chin hard enough against the cobblestone that he nearly bit off his own tongue. Reeling, he glanced back behind him just in time to see the Crell soldier charging towards him, his left palm facing outwards and glimmering with Aetheric energy. Elade was nowhere in sight, Sarina’s body was crumpled helplessly next to him, and Jason realized he had nowhere to go. He hopped to his feet and tried to dive behind a nearby pile of refuse—
He didn’t make it. The Crell hurled another blast of force into Jason’s flank, and he went soaring down the alley in a wild, reckless tumble. He skidded across the ground and bounced off a wall before eventually collapsing face-first onto the stone. Even as his consciousness threatened to slip away, Jason managed to tilt up his chin and watch as the Crell man charged towards him, blade twirling in his hand. A sadistic grin stretched across his face; he believed there was nothing Jason could do to stop him from taking the cube.
But Jason knew he had one final hope Reaching into the leather satchel still slung around his body, he pulled out the cube and pointed it at his attacker. The glyphs on its sides sparked with energy, and he tried to shield his eyes against the glow—
But instead of unleashing a blast of energy like in Taig, this time the cube opened. A brilliant light flared around Jason’s body, and his dizziness was suddenly replaced by a fierce burning, as if he had shoved his head straight into a fire.
“Oh, shit,” he breathed.
The light faded, and everything went black.
***
The paladin was only twenty feet away from Kroll when she finally landed, and he knew that if he tried to lunge for his fallen sword, she would cut him down. Thankfully, the fact that he was disarmed would actually work to his advantage: she would assume he was defenseless, and if he just played along for a few seconds, he could buy himself enough time to strike.
Kroll raised his hands in surrender. “I didn’t think paladins killed unarmed targets.”
“Channelers are never unarmed,” she replied, striding briskly towards him. She was taller and darker than the elf witch, but the racial resemblance was obvious.
“So you’re just going to cut me down, then?” he asked as he slowly backpedaled. As she drew closer, he could see the Aetheric tethers of her bond to the Last Dawn wafting behind her, and he focused his mind upon them and prepared to strike. “Somehow that doesn’t seem very knightly.”
“I will render you unconscious and take you to an Alliance prison. There you stand trial for crimes against Torsia.”
Kroll scoffed. “Such a pity. I’d always heard that the Knights of the Last Dawn were little more than lapdogs o
f the Solarians, but I never wanted to believe it.”
“On your knees,” she ordered. “Now.”
He smiled. “You first, bitch.”
With the Aether coursing through him, Kroll reached out and severed her bond. She reeled in shock, and he took the opportunity to flip away and retrieve his sword. When he spun back around, he expected her to have crumpled over in agony…but instead she was standing in place, her head shaking back and forth in confusion. She was stunned but not hurt…
And it was only then that Kroll realized the problem: somehow, some way, her Aetheric tethers remained in place.
“What?” he breathed. “Impossible…”
The vaeyn shook her head one last time before defiantly raising her sword, and her luminous blue eyes narrowed into thin slits. “Wrong choice.”
Unbound.
The word echoed through Kroll’s mind even as she lunged towards him. He hefted up his sword and to meet her attack, but she was fast—far faster than anyone he had ever aced. Her sabre became a blur of silver motion, and she scored a quick hit across his right forearm and then another across the back of his left hand. Kroll tried to backpedal away and recover, but her attacks were relentless and precise. She might have lacked the Asgardian’s raw fury, but she more than made up for it with pure skill. Within the span of a few heartbeats, Kroll knew he was outmatched. What he couldn’t understand was why…or how.
He was a trained soldier and an expert swordsman. Before joining the Zarul and unlocking his channeling potential, he had been a fearsome duelist with a reputation all across western Torsia. He had defeated Talishite dervishes, Izarian swashbucklers, and even Solipean sword saints. He was bigger and stronger than any pathetic elf could ever dream of, especially a female….and yet compared to this woman, he was like a child haplessly swinging around a toy sword.
Even as she effortlessly scythed through his defenses, Kroll couldn’t help but smile. This was exactly what he had been waiting for from the first moment he had learned that two Knights of the Last Dawn would be guarding the divine spark. Dracian had been a disappointment, but this mystery woman was a true test of his power. The very idea of a dark elf paladin—let alone an Unbound one—was almost a contradiction in terms. It would be truly glorious when he finally broke her…but right now, he needed to figure out a way to survive the next ten seconds. And a flicker of motion from behind the paladin’s shoulder presented him with precisely the opportunity he needed.
The Godswar Saga (Omnibus) Page 39