The Lost City (The Lost Prophecy Book 5)

by D. K. Holmberg

  “You may wish to remain here.”

  “You want me to stay here, without the merahl and without you?”

  “I don’t know what we will encounter down there,” he said. “Usually, I have a better sense from the merahl, but this time…”

  “I’m going with you,” Isandra said.

  “Are you ready to fight if it comes to that?”

  “I’m ready to do what I need to do. I came for answers, and for understanding. I need to do this. I need to be a part of this.”

  He turned toward her and cupped her elbow in one hand. “You can still find understanding and the answers that you seek without venturing into danger like this,” he said. “It is possible that we have discovered the breeding grounds.”

  “If this is the breeding grounds, then staying here is even more dangerous than going with you.”

  He shook his head. “If this is the breeding grounds, then coming with me is much more dangerous than remaining here. If there are other groeliin such as the one you fought off, then this will be a dangerous mission. This will be a sacrifice.”

  “I’m ready to participate.”

  “If you do this, and if we face what I fear that we will, you will no longer be a Mage.”

  “What will I be?”

  “You will be Antrilii.”

  It might be the nicest compliment that she had ever received.

  She needed only a moment to nod.

  With that, they started down the rocky incline, and she made a point of keeping her feet set, not wanting to slip as they descended. One wrong move would send her toppling down the mountain slope, and dropping to the valley far below.

  She unsheathed her sword, wanting to be ready the moment it became necessary. Jassan nodded grimly to her.

  Merahl howled in the distance. It carried the same urgency, the same summons as she had heard the first time. One of the creatures sounded injured and seemed to call to her—to both of them—to come help.

  As she climbed down, she still marveled at the fact that she could even hear the merahl, and marveled at the fact that she could understand them.

  A few more steps and they reached the valley floor.

  She hesitated, surveying the ground. There were a few scrub trees, but nothing with much size. The deeper they’d traveled in the mountains, the fewer pine trees she saw. Closer to the border of the Antrilii lands there had been more life, more vibrancy, but here, this deep into the mountains, there was none of that.

  What had the merahl detected?

  There had to have been something that required the assistance of the Antrilii.

  But what was it?

  The other Antrilii with them were nearly a dozen paces away. Each of them stalked forward slowly, each holding his sword in hand, clutched lightly, but ready to strike. The tension that she felt continued to increase the farther they went.

  There came another low howl.

  This time, it was close.

  Movement. Shapes near the rocks suddenly appeared. Massive forms rose up from below them, surging into view.

  Groeliin.

  “It’s a trap,” Isandra said.

  “The groeliin don’t form traps,” Jassan said.

  A row of Antrilii fell in a spray of blood.

  Jassan roared and raced forward. Isandra reached for him but wasn’t quick enough, and she was forced to hurry after him, knowing that there was nothing she could do to slow him down, and nothing that she could do to stop him from racing into what she suspected was a trap.

  The groeliin had used the merahl to draw the Antrilii.

  The merahl howled and snarled somewhere.

  The sound of violence echoed through the valley. She heard a soft scream, and Isandra raced forward, her sword held at the ready, the beginning of a scream on her lips.

  She felt impotent, and as much as she wanted to do something, as much as she wanted to respond, she wasn’t sure if she was going to be strong enough, or fast enough.

  Flashes of dark fur appeared out of the night, and the merahl attacked. They were violent and brutal, and they moved with astonishing speed, snarling as they raced through the clearing, taking down the groeliin that swarmed in from the upper mountain reaches.

  She lost track of how many groeliin there were. Dozens upon dozens. Hundreds? Possibly thousands.

  And there had to be more than that. All around her came the sounds of fighting, and all around her, she smelled the coppery stench of blood.

  Had they finally reached the breeding grounds?

  They must have.

  But she also knew that this was a trap. She felt it deeply within her, but there seemed to be nothing that they could do. The groeliin continued to come, an ongoing swarm, more and more of the creatures dropping down from the mountains.

  Was that the reason the merahl called for help?

  A sacrifice. That was what Jassan had said.

  Would she be a part of it?

  Would her coming even matter if she died here?

  Then she was among them. Isandra fought, attacking one groeliin after another, flashing through her forms, using movements that she had barely mastered, and each one jolted her arms, and each time blood sprayed, she was aware of the destruction—and the death—that she brought.

  The more she fought, the more her mind began to clear. The fighting seemed to slow, and everything around her took on a crispness, something that allowed her increased clarity about where to attack next. It was almost as if she had the gift of prophecy, able to anticipate where the next blow needed to go.

  Three groeliin jumped in front of her. They snarled, slashing at her with long claws and clubs.

  Isandra ducked, swiping up, cutting off one of the creature’s arms before swinging back around.

  She was struck in the back and sprawled forward. Two of the groeliin approached, leaning over her with their clubs.

  Isandra tried to fight back, but lying as she was, her back bent at an awkward angle with the stone beneath her, she couldn’t move quickly enough.

  One of the clubs swung toward her, and she blocked it, barely deflecting it. It caught her shoulder, and she bit back a cry.

  The other groeliin started to attack, and she knew that she wouldn’t be fast enough to block that one, too.

  A merahl snarled, and the merahl that had taken a liking to her leapt over her, crashing into the groeliin, sending it flying away from her. It attacked with a ferocious roar, its claws scraping across each of the groeliin, blood splattering.

  Isandra didn’t have a chance to thank the merahl. Six more groeliin appeared, and one of them had the lumbering largeness of the strange groeliin that she had attacked a week before.

  Much like the last creature, this one carried a dark-bladed sword. Could it be teralin, the destructive kind much like Jassan had described? It would make sense if what he’d said was true, and it would make sense that the groeliin would use a destructive metal, much like the Antrilii used a constructive form of the metal.

  That was the creature she had to focus her attention on, but it was difficult with the other five groeliin flanking him. Were she to attempt to focus her effort on the larger groeliin, the others would use her distraction and be able to reach her. If she focused on the other groeliin, the dark blade of the large groeliin would cut her down.

  Before she was forced to decide, the merahl leapt in, all claws and fangs, forcing the groeliin to make a choice.

  They peeled off, turning toward the merahl, and she lunged forward striking at the larger groeliin. The merahl could take down five or more groeliin, but she would be the one to destroy the groeliin carrying the sword.

  The large groeliin realized that she had turned her attention to it, and attacked. She deflected his first strike. In the time since she’d last faced the groeliin, she had practiced daily with Jassan, and her skill had grown.

  The groeliin was talented, and—like the large groeliin she’d taken down in the last attack—had surprising ability with t
he sword, but she was a Magi and descended from ancient warriors. She shared a bloodline with the Antrilii.

  That made her a warrior.

  She fell into the movements, her mind going blank, and she blocked each attack the groeliin attempted. The creature was larger than she and had a longer reach, but she was quicker. She used that speed to her advantage, darting in, slicing at vulnerable spots before dashing back away. She cut at the groeliin’s arms, and then severed a tendon in its leg, leaving the groeliin staggering to the ground. She finished it off with one sharp stab into its chest.

  She turned, and the merahl rubbed up against her legs, showing a flash of teeth. She patted his head. “Thank you,” she said.

  The merahl howled softly.

  The message was clear. They needed to continue to attack.

  She turned, looking for the next band of groeliin that she could focus her attention on. She found it nearby, nearly a dozen strong. Once again, there was one of the large groeliin, and she allowed the merahl to attack the smaller ones as she drew the larger groeliin away, forcing it into a swordfight with her.

  Having discovered her talent, and having discovered the way that she could fight best against this creature, she dispatched it more quickly, first taking it down by severing the tendons in its legs, and then decapitating it.

  It became easier to deal the killing blow the longer she fought.

  She marched forward, the merahl with her attacking the smaller groeliin as she drew the attention of the groeliin wielding the sword. It seemed the large groeliin each led a band of smaller groeliin. Had Jassan discovered that as well? With enough merahl and enough Antrilii, they could still survive this fight.

  She came to the next band of groeliin. As before, she drew the larger one toward her, but this time, four of the other groeliin came with it.

  The merahl was drawn away by a dozen other smaller creatures.

  Isandra started back, but there was only so far she could go. The groeliin began to circle her, and she doubted that the merahl would be able to help her this time.

  She was trapped.

  Another low howl erupted from somewhere out in the night. It was followed by another. And another. She counted nearly three dozen merahl.

  That was more than what they had with them.

  There came a roar from somewhere distant, and the groeliin turned their attention toward the shout.

  It was the opening she needed. She flashed in, cutting down three of the groeliin before they could react. Then she turned toward the larger one and dropped it before it could react, too.

  More groeliin appeared. There were countless numbers of the large groeliin, and hundreds, if not thousands, of the smaller ones. There were far more than what they could oppose with their small band of Antrilii.

  She ran into Jassan. He was bloodied, and she couldn’t tell if it was his blood or groeliin blood.

  A look of relief crossed his face when he saw her. “You still live.”

  “The merahl take out the smaller ones, and I’ve been fighting the larger ones.”

  “As have I.”

  “There are too many for us.”

  Jassan nodded. “Unfortunately, I fear the same. I will fight until I no longer can.”

  “I will fight with you.”

  There was a feeling a finality, and she felt a determined sort of resignation about her fate, but she also felt as if what she did was necessary.

  He nodded to her, and together, they surged forward to what she knew would be her death.

  The groeliin swarmed.

  There came another howl from the merahl. And another. One after another they rang out.

  She understood the call but didn’t think what the merahl said was possible.

  If she understood it correctly, help was coming.

  Chapter Twenty

  Isandra attacked, leaping with her sword outstretched, darting toward the nearest of the groeliin. The sound of the merahl howling continued to approach, growing louder. The cool air held the stink of violence and death, mixed with the awful stench of the groeliin. The sounds of battle echoed.

  The merahl that had grown close to her approached, and she felt the strength of the creature as it did, pushing up behind her. It growled and emitted a soft howl. The merahl passed her, jumping toward a collection of groeliin, close enough that she nearly staggered back.

  Isandra collected herself and brought her sword around, preparing for the next attack.

  The next wave came swiftly.

  Jassan fought barely a few paces away from her, a merahl at his side. He was a flurry of movement, his sword sweeping through the groeliin, relentlessly cutting them down. The merahl with him repeatedly attacked, darting forward before retreating, only to surge forward again and again.

  It was almost enough to allow Isandra the belief that they would succeed.

  Her gaze swept beyond her, and she saw the sea of groeliin attacking.

  Her heart sank. They couldn’t destroy all of them.

  They would fall.

  They may kill many of the groeliin, and they may stop a few of the larger creatures with swords, but they would eventually fall.

  The merahl nearest her growled softly.

  It was answered by others, one after another.

  She had thought that there weren’t many other merahl nearby, but had she been wrong? Were there more that had joined them?

  She still didn’t know why the merahl had called for help. There had been the mournful cry, the request for her to join them, urging her along.

  She stumbled forward, and the merahl pushed back, keeping her on her feet.

  Why did the creature try so hard? It didn’t matter. None of what they did mattered. They fought, and they opposed the groeliin, but they would lose. There was nothing they could do that would stop that now. The hopelessness that filled her was nearly overwhelming.

  The merahl brushed up against her again, and she looked at the bright energy shining in the creature’s eyes, and thought of the determination with which it had been attacking, and knew that she couldn’t stop fighting. The merahl would continue to fight, so she had to continue to fight.

  She staggered forward again.

  What else could she do? She had come north, come to the Antrilii, searching for answers, but answers had been difficult to come by. The Antrilii didn’t seem to know everything about the creatures they hunted—not that they pretended to—but something about the creatures was changing for them. She might not survive long enough to find out what it was or why it was happening, or what it was about their attack that had changed. But she hoped the Antrilii would survive, that others would learn.

  She hoped Jassan survived. He had the hunk of flesh that he’d carved from the first strange groeliin they had encountered and slain. He could use that.

  And they still hadn’t reached the breeding grounds. Perhaps this was it. Perhaps the brutality of this fight meant that they had reached the breeding grounds, but they didn’t have the numbers necessary to confront the groeliin here. Had the merahl not called, Jassan wouldn’t have brought them to fight in the middle of the night.

  Why would the merahl have summoned them? Why would they have brought them here? To face the numbers of groeliin that they did, without having enough help.

  She stumbled again.

  This time, the merahl wasn’t there.

  Something else was. She turned, thinking that it was Jassan who had grabbed her by the back of the arm, but it wasn’t.

  It was another Antrilii, this one incredibly wide, heavily muscled, his face painted streaks of red and black. This was not one of the Antrilii who had come with them.

  The groeliin squeezed past, and this Antrilii quickly attacked, slicing it down.

  “Are you with Nahrsin?” she asked.

  The Antrilii shook his head. “Not with Nahrsin. I am Nahrsin.” Merahl surrounded them, creating an opening for her to remain mostly hidden. Nahrsin studied her and then nodded once. “You wo
rked with Roelle.”

  She shook her head. “I was not with Roelle. Jassan.”

  Nahrsin grunted. “No matter. You fight well.”

  “Is this the breeding grounds?”

  Nahrsin’s eyes narrowed. He glanced to Jassan before turning back to Isandra. “It should not be.”

  “It should not be because the place is wrong, or the timing?”

  “Yes.”

  Isandra turned away from him, surveying the field of groeliin. They were pushed back, a wave of groeliin cut down by merahl and hundreds of new Antrilii warriors.

  As the fighting died down, the groeliin retreating, Jassan joined them. The merahl—Isandra’s creature—came and sat behind her.

  “Nahrsin,” Jassan said, clasping the much larger Antrilii’s arm. “It’s about time you arrived.”

  Nahrsin grunted. “We have been preoccupied, though it appears you have as well.” He glanced from Isandra to the merahl sitting behind her. He said nothing about it, but there was a question written in his eyes that went unasked.

  The sounds of fighting shifted, the calling of the merahl changing from fearful worry to one of urgency, a cry for the hunt. Jassan whistled, and the merahl darted away. The one sitting near Isandra glanced up at her, and she nodded, thinking that it wanted to know that she was unharmed before it went off on a hunt.

  The Antrilii didn’t fail to see that. Jassan in particular laughed. “We didn’t see that with the Magi in the south,” he said to Nahrsin.

  Nahrsin studied Isandra. “No. We did not.”

  Several of the Antrilii piled groeliin bodies together, heaping up the fallen creatures before igniting them. Jassan and Nahrsin looked on, saying nothing as the bodies burned. The fires burned brightly, and the heat pressed back the chill of the night, the stink of the burning groeliin filling the air.

  No one said anything. After a while, the flames began to die back, and Nahrsin nodded and motioned for Jassan and Isandra to follow him.

  They reached a trail leading between a pile of rocks, and on the other side was where the Nahrsin’s group must’ve camped. Nahrsin made quick work of lighting a fire and motioned for them to sit. A few other Antrilii—none that Isandra knew—began joining them. One of the merahl prowled distantly, little more than a blur of dark shadows against the night.