Wanderer's Song (Song of Prophecy Series Book 1)

by P. E. Padilla

  Aeden swallowed hard, trying to force the lump in his throat down. Taking a precious few seconds to look at his friends, he hoped he had learned his magic effectively as well. Fahtin had two knives out, longer than her typical throwing knives. Aeden wondered where she had gotten them. She swallowed and, when she noticed him looking, forced a smile. Raki was barely visible, low to the ground and hiding to strike from the edges, as was his specialty. Aila, beautiful in her dark clothes, her hair tied into a ponytail, had those strange weapons of hers in her palms. Tere Chizzit, of course, had his bow raised and an arrow nocked. He put his right hand down to the long knives belted to his waist, nearly as large as Aeden’s own short swords, and made sure they were loose in the scabbards. Urun Chinowa met Aeden’s gaze, put on a small smile, and nodded. Then he closed his eyes, tilted his head toward the sky, and mouthed words Aeden couldn’t read on his lips. They were as ready as they could be. Was he?

  The creatures closest to them quickened their loping strides into sprints. In the forefront of those coming from behind, the pale-colored animaru was among the first of the enemies, and that large, hairy monster led the charge from the forces on the other side. These two were obviously the commanders, taking the lead like they had done on top of the cliff. The two had battled Aeden and Urun to a standstill there, with far fewer troops. Aeden licked his lips and tightened his grip on his swords. He went over the two spells he had mastered with his new dance choreography. Well, maybe not mastered, but they were more powerful than what he had learned when with the clans.

  In the last several hours, it had come to him that the movements he had developed for the spells could be modified slightly to be done with weapons in the hands. Would that make the spell more powerful, or less so? Mentally chastising himself for not trying it sooner, he prayed it would work out.

  “Codaghan,” he said, “If you have any concern for us wee humans, please grant me some of your strength now. This will be a battle worthy of your name.”

  And then wave of the creatures crashed upon them.

  Aeden dropped his left shoulder and rolled under swiping claws, coming up while cutting at the exposed abdomens of the attackers. The creatures screamed as the magic-infused weapons cut deeply into them, and their sickly dark blood, a deep red, almost a brown, sprayed those coming up behind. He parried other claws, relying on his reflexes and instinct, not even knowing how many were in front of him, taking fingers, whole claws, and a head from the black monsters.

  Suddenly, the tall, lighter-colored animaru appeared before him. The commander had her twin swords out as well, her mouth set in what could have been a smirk or a smile of contentment. His eyes widened when she nodded to him and crossed her swords in front of her. Was she saluting him? When he returned the gesture, her mouth turned upwards just a hair more. A smile of pleasure, then, not a smirk.

  She attacked.

  Aeden’s foe was as fast and skilled as he remembered. She wore little clothing, so her movement was not hindered in any way. They ranged across the area, him sometimes dodging her attacks even as he cut down her allies, and her sometimes avoiding one of the others in Aeden’s party as they struck out at her. But their attention was only on each other. It was as if all the other bodies in the fray were simply obstacles to be passed to continue their own fight.

  As they sliced, blocked, lunged, and parried, Aeden fell into a calm that he had only ever reached when fully absorbed in combat. Her techniques were not unlike his, her tempo a fitting counterpoint to his own pace and rhythm of combat. He found himself smiling, though it shocked him to think about it.

  An animaru slashed at Aeden’s left leg and he deftly lifted it, kicked the thing in the face, and blocked one of the commander’s slashes with his right weapon and her lunge with the other, his left arm beneath the right. With a flick of his right wrist, his sword completed a short arc and carved a shallow gash across her cheek. Placing his kicking foot on the ground again, he moved back one step to dodge her counterslash by a fraction of an inch. Her eyes widened in surprise that she had been struck.

  In the brief pause, during which she put a finger to her wound and looked at the blood on it, Aeden noticed that she didn’t have a scar anywhere on her. He had seen scars on the bodies of some of the animaru before, but did she not scar, or was she so skilled that she had never been struck? Her reaction hinted at the latter.

  Aeden glanced around him as the two squared off again. Creatures still came at them, a sustained push that the casualties his friends were inflicting could not match. He saw flashes of red on his friends, but they were still fighting in a group to try to prevent themselves from being overwhelmed. None were down yet, for which he was thankful.

  Still, they could not keep this up. Urun seemed to be having a silent war with the hairy, magic-using creature, but he looked to be tiring. What would happen when he failed and the magic was brought against the rest of the party?

  It was time to gamble.

  Aeden began to sing, and as he did so, he started incorporating the gestures for the spell into his movements to combat his foe. She attacked again, a flurry of slashes, thrusts, and strikes with her feet. Aeden stumbled and received a cut to his forearm. He moved out of the way quickly, preventing a deeper gash. His opponent looked puzzled. He could imagine what she thought. Her opponent had started singing and, for all appearances, dancing. She must have thought him mad.

  Magic built in him as he sang and as he fought, trying to tie each of his movements into the choreography he had determined for the spell. It was all he could do to keep from being killed, so he didn’t counterattack, only moved, sang, and tried to work in his defensive techniques.

  Slash, lunge, kick, thrust, the pale-colored animaru attacked him relentlessly. All the while, the magic built.

  When he felt that he had enough power, Aeden punctuated the Song with a harsh, hard syllable.

  “Ekosin!”

  The energy flew out of him in a wave in all directions.

  Several of the lesser animaru closest to him were destroyed in an instant. Those further out took a few seconds to stop moving. Every one of them within twenty feet were forced back as if hurricane winds had assaulted them. Aeden’s friends fared better, but were also pushed away from him. The real power in the spell was its ability to destroy the creatures from another world, so though his friends were pushed away, they were not injured. His pale opponent, inches away, wasn’t destroyed, but she was thrown, head over heels, until she landed ungracefully a dozen feet away.

  The power still infused Aeden. It hadn’t all been spent as it was when he used his magic before he learned to choreograph his movements to the Song. He repeated the words and his actions, preparing to use the spell again. If he could only keep his strength up, he might be able to give his friends a chance to survive.

  He had the time he needed while his foes regrouped and charged again. Aeden took a mental inventory of his friends and found that they were all present, most of them coming back to their feet. Urun was shaking his head, Fahtin was looking around for her enemies, Tere Chizzit was shooting the last few arrows in his quiver, and Raki and Aila were regaining their positions back-to-back to resume fighting.

  Aeden’s main foe, the light-colored female, picked herself up off the ground and looked at him with incredulity. The hairy, magic-using monster was nowhere to be seen. Had it been destroyed?

  Three more times Aeden used Dawn’s Warning, and each time he used it at exactly the moment that would destroy the most animaru. He waited until the last second, when they crowded around him to overwhelm and tear him to shreds. He noticed that the commander did not charge him after the first time, staying back and watching, waiting. Aeden’s respect for her intelligence increased at that. She would bide her time until he grew tired, and then she would go in for the kill. She was sacrificing her troops for a chance to kill him.

  There seemed to be a shift in the way his foes were attacking. The hairy commander wasn’t there, and groups of the a
nimaru fled back toward where he and his troops had come from. Just a little while longer and there would be no foes left. At least, that’s what Aeden hoped.

  The time came when there was only his foe and her swords, along with a few dozen of the normal animaru forces. She considered him for a moment, looked toward the retreating creatures, frowned fiercely, and rushed him. She, at least, would not flee. More was the pity.

  Her swords spun as she engaged Aeden, but he was too tired to fight her in the way she wanted. Just before she reached him with two blows simultaneously, he put all his remaining energy into pouring the magic into her.

  Aeden’s power picked her up as if she was a toy and threw her thirty feet to hit a large boulder. The other animaru, all those around him, caught only collateral force, but it was enough to shred many of them. In part of his tired mind, Aeden wondered what this attack did to his friends, but he didn’t have time to contemplate. He rushed to where the commander had slid down the rock. She was still moving, though weakly.

  He saluted her as before, then quickly used both swords, one from each direction, to separate her head from her shoulders.

  Aeden looked around. Ink-black bodies lay everywhere. There would have been more if his magic hadn’t caused some simply to cease to exist. He picked out the movements of his friends, but none of any enemies, and only then slumped, putting his hands on his knees and breathing deeply. He was so tired. So tired.

  Tere Chizzit came up to him, his bow slung across his shoulders and a blood-covered long knife in each hand. He nodded to Aeden. The man looked like he had aged ten years since the battle started. The others gathered around him, too. They all were dirty and covered in blood, hopefully not their own, but they were there.

  Urun Chinowa limped up to them, a wicked gash on his right thigh. The canyon was eerily quiet compared to the screams and other sounds of battle that until moments before was their whole world.

  “Where is Fahtin?” he asked, looking around.

  Aeden started. He scanned the battlefield and realized that she was not among them. Aila, Raki, Tere, and Urun were all there, but no Fahtin. Where was she?

  He leapt to his feet, sorry he did so as the world spun. He was so drained of energy, he had to stand still until he could be sure of his balance.

  “We have to find her,” Aeden said. “She wasn’t cut down or anything, was she?”

  “She was fighting beside us a little while ago,” Raki said. “I lost track of her just before all those monsters started running.”

  “Same here,” Aila said.

  “Split up,” Aeden told them. “Find her. She might be hurt. Urun, get ready to heal her. I know you’re probably tired, but if she is hurt seriously—”

  “No need to worry,” Urun said. “She will be my priority.” He limped off into a direction the others hadn’t gone.

  Aeden moved off in yet another direction, searching through the bodies for one in brightly-colored clothing, hoping against hope that he would not find one. He didn’t, but neither did he find Fahtin resting or injured. He walked to the furthest evidence of battle he could find, but didn’t see her. His stomach going sour with worry, he headed back to where the others were coming together again.

  “Nothing,” Urun said.

  “I didn’t find her, either,” Tere Chizzit told him.

  Raki shook his head and turned his eyes toward the ground.

  “I’m sure she’s all right, Aeden,” Aila said. “There has to be a good explanation for why she’s not here. At least we didn’t find her body.”

  “They’ve taken her,” Tere said. “That big, hairy one, the one that uses magic, he’s gone too. He fled with the remaining troops. They must have taken her captive.”

  “But how? Why?” Aeden said.

  “As for the how, a handful of them could have overpowered her. And why? Isn’t it obvious? To lure us into another ambush when they meet up with more of their fellows.”

  “Well, they’re right about that, then,” Aeden said. “We have to follow them.”

  “We can’t do that,” Urun said. “We have—you have—a mission to complete. We’re talking about the fate of the world here, Aeden. You can’t sacrifice that for one person, no matter what she means to you…to us.”

  Aeden gave him a level look. The priest kept eye contact for a moment and then averted his eyes. “I can and I will. You don’t have to come with me. I’ll go alone if need be. I’ll not leave her to those monsters.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Raki said. “Fahtin would do the same for us.”

  “I’m in,” Aila said. “Sounds exciting.” Aeden looked at her, not knowing what to say.

  “I’m fond of the girl,” Tere Chizzit said. “I’d not like to see her come to harm. I’ll join you as well. Just let me retrieve what arrows I can salvage.” He headed off to do that, Raki going with him to collect his own thrown weapons.

  Aeden went to gather his pack from where he had dropped it before the battle. He didn’t bother looking at Urun or asking what he would do.

  “Let me at least heal everyone before we go,” the nature priest said. “We’re all in bad shape.”

  “Before we go?” Aeden asked.

  Urun Chinowa sighed. “Yes. I don’t agree with going, sacrificing the entire world for one person, no matter who they are, but I’ll stick with you. There is no use in me going to the Academy without you.”

  “Good enough.”

  Urun healed everyone’s wounds and prayed over his own. Aeden gave him a quizzical look. “I can’t heal myself with spells. It’s like trying to pick yourself up by your belt. I have to pray to receive healing directly from Osulin. She rarely says no, only when she thinks that I might learn a better lesson if I have to heal normally. She answered me this time, so my wounds are gone.”

  Without further discussion, Tere Chizzit took the lead, tracking the mass of creatures that had fled. Aeden hoped they were not too late.

  50

  Fahtin’s heart beat so hard in her chest that she could swear the necklace that nestled between her breasts bounced from the force of it. She had never seen so many creatures at one time. Would they survive the onslaught?

  She looked over at Aeden. He seemed confident and unafraid. That made her feel better, at least. If he saw no need to worry, then maybe he knew they would be all right. When he looked over at her, she swallowed hard and forced a smile onto her face. He gave her one in return, though it seemed as fake as the one she gave him. The others seemed to be calm, too, even Raki. She wished she was braver, but she had to clench her legs to keep her knees from shaking.

  The black creatures swarmed toward them, the highest concentration going toward Aeden. She formed a loose triangle with Raki and Aila and brought out the long knives Tere Chizzit had given her. Their weight felt strange compared to the knives she had always practiced with, but their length would be an advantage. At least these animaru didn’t use weapons. All except that pale one with the two swords. Aeden had said she was some kind of commander, so no doubt she would focus on him.

  Not having to worry about blocking blades was a plus, but she had seen what those claws and teeth could do and was wary. Too soon, the first wave was in front of her, and then all thought of other things left her head. It was only combat, kill or be killed.

  Fahtin recalled what Aeden had told her in all those training sessions. She had to remain calm. If she lost her head and panicked or got angry, she would get sloppy. She needed every ounce of her skill for this battle. She looked down at her knives. They were glowing faintly from the magic Aeden had placed on them. They could hurt these creatures now, as normal weapons couldn’t. It was time for her to start hurting them.

  So many dashed at them, she would not be ignored as in some of the first encounters with the animaru. Only so many could crowd around Aeden, so some creatures had to attack the other humans. That made it more like a real battle, more dangerous.

  A flash of darkness to her left caused her to turn h
er head just in time to see the airborne creature coming at her. She ducked under the flying body—this one thin and covered in wiry black hair—and sliced at it as it flew by. The blood that came out of the thing, almost a brown color, splashed onto her face, warm and sticky, and she started to gag at the thought. But there was no time to be sick. Other enemies were coming.

  Fahtin worked well with the two others near her, especially Raki. They had trained together so much it almost seemed like practice. Except that one mistake could cost her life.

  It seemed to her that it was like when she had observed bees in a hive. At the hive itself, the bees swarmed and swirled and moved. A foot or two away from their home, they still circled, but there were far fewer and they seemed to move about aimlessly. In this case, Aeden was the hive, and all the activity centered on him while the lesser number of animaru attacked her and the others. It was obvious that their top priority was to kill Aeden.

  As she dodged and slashed at her foes, she wondered at that. Aeden was so important that a whole race of creatures, the entire population of another world, was concerned primarily with his death. Who was he? What was he? It was surreal.

  No. What was surreal was that he met their charge, and he survived it. It was amazing to see it. There had to be hundreds of the monsters against him, maybe thousands, and yet he whirled and fought, going head to head with their leader and still withstanding them. So far. It was awe-inspiring.

  Aila slashed with her strange weapons and saved Fahtin from a thick, squat animaru that had been preparing to rip her throat out from behind. The Gypta nodded her thanks to the shorter woman, and Aila smiled back as she spun the weighted cord attached to the weapon in her other hand. It wrapped around the other creature’s forearm, and when she jerked it forcefully, it separated the lower part of its arm from the upper. Fahtin needed to stop thinking and start paying attention to the fight. It was a good thing she had her friends there with her.