by Simon Hawke
They made their way back down the tunnel and found the branching point the wizard had told them about. They turned down it and walked along a short corridor before they came to a flight of stone steps. At the end of the steps they reached only a brick wall.
“Now what?” said Sorak.
“There must be a door somewhere,” said Ryana.
After searching for a few moments by the dim, flickering glow of the lantern, she finally found an iron ring set into the wall to their left. As the lantern flickered out, she pulled it. The ring did not give on the first try, but on the second, when she put more strength into it, it pulled out of the wall slightly, and there was a grating sound as the wall swung open. It was a concealed door, pivoting around a central rod that ran through it. It opened out into a wooden storage shed, built against the back wall of the tavern. They cautiously opened the door of the shed and peered outside. The way seemed clear. They stepped out into the alley and breathed the fresh night air.
Almost at the same moment, they heard the solid tramping of feet, a tread far heavier than that of humans, and they flattened themselves against the wall as a squad of half-giants trooped past the mouth of the alley. They were carrying huge agafari war clubs as they marched with great strides around the corner toward the entrance to the Elven Blade.
“The wizard was right,” said Sorak. “Doubtless, they have come to look for us.”
“Then it would be in our best interests to get elsewhere,” said Ryana, “and with all haste.”
They ran toward the mouth of the alley and cautiously looked out from the shadows. The street seemed clear. But as they moved out of the alley and quickly started walking back toward the center of the city someone behind them yelled out, “There they go! Look! There they are! There!”
They glanced over their shoulders and saw someone standing in the entrance of the tavern, pointing in their direction. Almost immediately, several half-giants came running out past him, into the street.
“Why can’t these good citizens of Nibenay mind their own cursed business, as they do in Tyr?” said Sorak through gritted teeth, as they turned and ran. Behind them, the half-giants thundered on their trail. They could not run as quickly, but their huge strides ate up a lot more ground.
“This way, hurry!” Sorak said as they darted down a dark alley. They ran to the opposite end and into the side street, but could hear the bellowing half-giants still in pursuit—and getting closer. It sounded as if Sorak and Ryana were being chased by a lumbering stampede of mekillots.
“We cannot outrun them!” said Ryana. “They can cover more ground with one stride than we can with three, and they know this city, while we are already lost!”
“Then we shall have to see what we can do to discourage their pursuit,” said Sorak. “In here!”
They ducked into a building entry way and pressed themselves against the doors as the half-giants thundered toward them. Ryana fitted a bolt to her crossbow The half-giants ran past their place of concealment, and she raised the crossbow and took aim.
Suddenly, the looming guards halted. “They did not come this way!” one of them called out. “They must have doubled back!”
Ryana fired. The bolt hissed through the air and struck one of the half-giants in the back of the neck, at the base of his skull. With a bellowing cry, he raised his hands up to the arrow and fell crashing to the street. Ryana was already lifting her bow for a second shot as the half-giants turned back toward them. Her second bolt struck home, hitting one of them between the eyes, and he fell dead in his tracks. Several of the others tripped over him as he went down, and they all crashed down in a tangled heap.
“Now!” said Sorak, and they ran once again, back the way they had come.
There had been slightly fewer than a dozen half-giants chasing them, and now that two of them were slain, the rest were totally enraged. Lights were going on in the windows up above them as people brought candles and lanterns to see what all the racket was about. As Sorak and Ryana ducked from one winding street into another, some of these citizens were obliging enough to call down to the half-giant guard and point out the way they went.
“Do you know which way we’re going?” Ryana asked, breathing hard as they ran.
“No. Do you?”
“We have gone up and down so many streets, I have lost track.”
“We must be getting somewhere,” Sorak said. They turned a corner and found themselves on a lane that somehow looked familiar. And then, a moment later, they saw why. Almost directly across the street from where they stood was the entrance to the Elven Blade.
“Oh, great!” Ryana said. “We have come right back to where we started from!”
“Well, look on the bright side. At least we know where we are now,” Sorak said.
They could hear the half-giants coming up behind them.
“This way,” Sorak said, pointing back the way they had first come when Korahna brought them to the tavern. But they had not run halfway down the street when they saw another troop of half-giant guards come round the corner, led by one of the Shadow King’s own templars.
“Those two!” she called out as they skidded to a halt in the center of the street. “Stop them.”
They turned around to run back the other way, but before they could run three paces, they saw their original pursuers come thundering around the corner. They were cut off, hemmed in on both sides.
“We’re trapped!” said Ryana, looking both ways.
“I was getting tired of running anyway,” said Sorak, drawing Galdra. Ryana fired one more bolt, dropping another half-giant in his tracks, then quickly slung her bow across her back and drew her own sword. They took up position in the center of the street, back to back, each holding a sword in one hand and a dagger in the other.
The half-giants came at them from both sides, bellowing as they charged. The first one to reach Sorak raised his agafari war club and brought it down in a vicious swipe. Sorak parried the blow with Galdra, and the war club was split cleanly in two. He swung his sword again, and the half-giant recoiled, but not quickly enough. Galdra opened up his stomach from side to side, and as the half-giant screamed, his guts came tumbling out into the street.
At the same time, Ryana moved in to meet her attackers. The two who reached her first were overconfident at being confronted by a female, but they soon discovered that the villichi priestess was no ordinary woman. Ryana’s blade flashed with dazzling speed as they both raised their clubs, and before they could even bring them down, both half-giants fell, their fatal wounds spouting blood. But more were coming.
As the other half-giants reached Sorak, he suddenly felt himself spinning away, as if he were falling. Consciousness receded, and the Shade came rushing forth like a cold wind from the depths. The half-giants were stunned at the juggernaut that suddenly plowed into them, swinging his sword as if it had a life of its own. The gaze of this new antagonist was as frightening as his blade, for those who met those eyes felt a chill that froze them to the marrow.
Three more half-giants fell in as many seconds, and Galdra dripped with their blood as the blade flashed in search of fresh victims. With one hand the Shade swung Galdra, slicing through a half-giant’s waist, while with the other he caught a war club that was coming down, aimed at his head. The half-giant stared, wide-eyed with disbelief that someone so much smaller could so easily catch his blow. He had time for no more reactions: the Shade kicked out with his foot and smashed the half-giant’s kneecap even as he parried another blow from yet another half-giant.
Another war club was cut in two, as if it were no more than a twig, and a second later, two more half-giants lay dead in the street.
Meanwhile, Ryana looked to her speed and skill to avoid the blows aimed at her. Moving like a deadly dancer, she twisted and turned, sidestepping attacks and darting between the half-giants that attempted to surround her. She darted among them like a fly buzzing among beasts, stinging painfully with every pass. One half-giant collaps
ed to the ground, howling in pain as his knee tendons were severed; another saw her poised before him and raised his club only to find that she was not there and that suddenly blood was pouring from the gaping wound in his chest. So quickly had she struck that he never even saw the blade go in. He fell, knocking over one of his comrades, and Ryana dispatched him, also, as he tripped.
The close quarters of the combat now worked against the half-giants as they knocked into one another, trying to get at their opponents, who moved among them with terrifying speed. One half-giant struck out blindly with his war club, hoping to connect, but instead smashed in the ribs of one of his fellow guards. The other, maddened with pain and enraged, caved in his compatriot’s skull with his own war club. And then he, too, fell as Ryana plunged her sword into his side.
The templar watched from the far end of the street, amazed as one half-giant after another fell before the furious onslaught. It was impossible, she thought. Who were these people? Only a handful of the guards remained now, and as they pressed in their attack, they met with no more success than those who had gone before them. Over the din of the combat and the enraged bellowing of the guards, another sound rose above the fray, a sound that made shivers run down the watching templar’s spine.
It was the sound of the Shade howling for blood. It was an animal cry, frightening and inhuman. Two more half-giants fell, and then another, and another, and the Shade had no more opponents confronting him. He turned, then, and ran to help Ryana with the ones remaining. Between the two of them, three more half-giants fell in the blink of an eye. Only four remained. Human guards would have given up and run, but the half-giants were too stupid for that. Motivated only by rage, they smashed their clubs upon the ground with each missed blow, and were too slow to recover. Big as they were, they were no match for their much faster opponents. Moments later, all the half-giants lay bleeding in the street, now littered with the bodies of two full squads.
So astonished was the templar at what she had witnessed that she had simply watched, frozen to the spot. But when the elfling turned toward her and fixed her with his gaze, she was suddenly galvanized into action. At least forty yards separated them, and as fierce a fighter as the elfling was, the templar knew he could not reach her before she summoned up a spell. As she lifted her arms in preparation, she saw the elfling raise his sword. He wasn’t even moving toward her. For a moment, she paused and smiled at what she thought was a last, defiant gesture, and then her jaw dropped with amazement as he hurled the blade.
She laughed at the pathetic attempt, knowing that it could not possibly reach her. But the laughter froze in her throat as she saw the deadly blade come flashing at her, spinning end over end, apparently defying gravity as it swooped toward her with a whoosh each time it spun around. It covered twenty yards, then twenty-five, then thirty…
“No,” she whispered, staring with horror at the rapidly approaching doom. She turned to run, but Galdra cleaved her right in two before she had taken three steps. Had she still been alive to witness it, she would have been even more amazed to see the sword describe a graceful arc in midair and return to the outstretched hand of its owner.
Sorak found himself standing in the middle of the street surrounded by the corpses of half-giants. The Shade receded, and Sorak quickly looked around to see Ryana right behind him, breathing heavily as she held her dripping sword. She looked at him and smiled weakly, fighting for breath, and then her smile faded as Sorak saw her staring beyond him.
Two more squads of half-giants had appeared at the far end of the street. Sorak and Ryana spun around and saw yet another squad coming up behind them.
“Sorak…” said Ryana, staring at him with resignation in her eyes.
“It seems we are not yet finished,” he said, feeling the effects of the Shade’s exertions. Ryana simply shook her head. “I fear we are,” she said.
“What would Tamura say if she heard you talking like that?” Sorak asked, hoping to brace her up by invoking the name of their old teacher, who had so often pushed them past all limits of endurance.
“I only wish that she were here right now,” Ryana replied. “I have no more strength.”
“Stay close to me,” said Sorak, wondering if there was time to summon Kether. But the half-giants were already charging at them from both sides.
“I always have,” she said, as she raised her sword and turned to face her fate.
They stood, shoulder to shoulder, prepared to go down fighting. But as the half-giants converged on them, the darkness of the street was suddenly illuminated with brilliant light as several fireballs exploded around them. One burst right in the midst of an approaching troop of half-giants, sending them scampering for cover or falling to the ground, on fire, bellowing as they rolled in the dirt to put out the flames. The troop coming from the opposite direction was likewise bombarded as fireballs arced through the air and struck them, bursting in explosions of flame as they landed.
“What’s happening?” Ryana asked, staring all around at the fireballs that came down on their pursuers.
“The Alliance!” Sorak shouted.
The white-robed figures of the preserver wizards were visible on several of the surrounding rooftops as they hurled fire spells down at the city guard.
“Sorak! Ryana! This way!” Korahna shouted. She stood in the entrance to a building on their right, beckoning to them. “Quickly! Run!”
They ran to the building and ducked inside. Korahna led them down a corridor and out through the back door, then down an alley into an adjoining street.
Your timing could not have been better,” Sorak said.
Korhana turned and grinned at him over her shoulder. “One good rescue deserves another,” she said.
“We must get you out of the city with all possible speed. Word has reached us that the templars have ordered the entire city guard to converge on this area. You saw but a small complement of them. The entire elven quarter will soon be swarming with half-giants looking for you.”
“Suddenly, I am feeling very anxious to be on our way,” Ryana said.
They ran down another alley and out into the street at the opposing end.
“Aren’t we are heading away from the city gates?” asked Sorak as they ran.
“There is a hidden tunnel leading underneath the city walls at the far end of the elven quarter,” said Korahna. “That will be our chance to get you out of the city safely. The diversion created by my friends should help us. Most of the city guard will be drawn to the fighting in the street outside the tavern.”
As they rushed to the end of the lane and turned a corner, they suddenly ran right into another squad of half-giants.
“Well, maybe not all of them,” Korahna said, drawing her sword. They were too close to run. Only a dozen yards or so separated them. The half-giants bellowed and charged, brandishing their war clubs.
Ryana felt a sudden shiver run down her spine as Sorak moved quickly past her. He had the lethal grace of some predatory beast, and she realized that Sorak was gone and the primitive entity called the Shade had risen to the fore from deep within his subconscious.
Moving with incredible speed, the Shade met the charging half-giants and waded into them with Galdra flashing. In the blink of an eye, one half-giant was cut completely in two, and his severed torso fell screaming to the ground. Galdra flashed again, and an agafari war club was cut through as if it were no more than a dry stalk of desert grass. Another half-giant toppled, screaming, to the ground. Then Ryana saw a sudden change come over the others.
Several of them recoiled and dropped their clubs, cowering helplessly before their antagonist, while others simply bolted. Ryana abruptly understood why she had felt that shiver run down the entire length of her spine. Each of Sorak’s inner personalities had some psionic talent all its own. The Shade’s was an aura of unrelenting terror. She had sensed it rising as he passed her, and now she felt it even more strongly as it radiated from him like waves of pure, bestial malevolence. I
t was stark and primal terror, the hypnotic, gripping fear that strikes tiny mammals when they gaze into serpents’ eyes, the involuntary paralysis of the rodent as the winged predator swoops down for the kill.
But even as she realized what was happening, she became overwhelmed by it herself. The Shade was not projecting it only at the half-giants that fell before his flashing blade; it emanated out from him in all directions.
Korahna cried out as she felt it and panicked. She took off, screaming, down the street, running as if her life depended on it. Ryana ran after her, or perhaps with her, some part of her mind trying to tell her it was no threat to her, but she could not help herself. She had to run before she froze in helpless terror and was consumed by it. A block away, she felt fear ebb and rationality return. Korhana was still running ahead of her, caught up in the momentum of her flight.
“Korahna!” Ryana shouted after her as she ran to catch her. “Korahna, wait!”
And then she saw another squad of half-giants, a dozen or so led by a templar, come into the street. Korahna, in her flight, was going to run headlong into them.
“Korahna!” Ryana screamed. “Stop!”
She ran with all the speed she could muster, closing the distance between them, and then she leapt, tackling the princess from behind. They both fell, sprawling, to the street. Ryana rolled on top of her and pinned her down. Korahna struggled, and Ryana gave her a stinging slap across the face.
“Come out of it!” she cried. “Korahna, for pity’s sake!”
She struck her again, and Korahna’s head jerked with the blow, and then her eyes seemed to clear. She stared up at Ryana, confused and uncomprehending.
“Korahna, we’re in danger! Get up!”
They struggled to their feet, but the half-giants were already upon them. The monstrous guards broke ranks quickly and surrounded them, leering down and slapping huge war clubs into their large and callused hands.
“Well, what have we here?” the templar said, stepping forward. “If it isn’t the traitor’s daughter, returned to receive her just desserts.”