Shadows of the Keeper

by Karey Brown

  “Emily!” Pendaran shouted, closer to her. “This way, now!” He jabbed towards a clear path free of warring bodies.

  “You wish me to run?”

  “I wish you to save your twins.”

  Since when? She ran from him. Didn’t all here despise Lumynari? What the hell did he care about her twins? A trap! Must be. She galvanized herself further away from the druid, and deeper into the thick of battle. Tightening of her scalp could no longer be ignored. The change was coming. Acute awareness trampled her limited skills, taking over with such force of power, she stumbled. The charge within her was akin to electrocution. She dropped, swung her legs and tripped a Lumynari. Unsuspecting a human to have such agility and cunning, he was easily felled and silenced. His partner was not so gullible. His long blade made hacking motions aimed at Emily, forcing her to jump back or be cleaved. Shouting broke out close to her, a blur of blonde hair and cream leather suddenly in front of her. Urkani attacked with lithe and speed, leaving the Lumynari dumfounded.

  It would be his final expression, carried with him in death.

  “Apparently, they weren’t expecting mountain Elves?”

  Urkani chuckled at Emily’s summation. “More’s the pity, highness.”

  “Who is she?” one of the moderns hollered from somewhere behind Emily. She glanced him, then the direction his bulging eyes stared in. Chaos erupted. Emily hardly grasped his frantic yelling before her own arm raised, sword clashing against sword, another fight to the death. Lumynari were determined to kill the quarry they were sent to capture. Not today, buddy! She granted him no quarter and fought with such ferociousness, he was forced to retreat. His rage amplified.

  Something clicked in her mind. What the villager had been frantically pointing at.

  A priestess!

  Her strangled cry of fear for those surrounding her not fully realizing the new danger upon them was interpreted by her current enemy as weakness.

  “I lack time to play with you today,” she said in Balkorian. Sardonic chuckling from her attacker gave way to gurgled wheezing. His throat no longer would pass oxygen to his lungs. Emily sliced again. “Just for good measure.” She spun away from him, lest another attack be to her backside. Garreck and Finnegan fought valiantly against three Lumynari and a beast she’d yet to be introduced to. The horn protruding from its forehead looked excruciating. As if on cue to her observation, the creature thought to charge and ram his head into Garreck. Swift of foot, Lancelot leapt to the side while at the same time swiping his ancient claymore through the beast’s thick middle. Emily grimaced and turned away; however, not soon enough. Upper portion of the creature fell into the snow, black blood spouting like Texas oil. Seconds later, its legs folded, spilling puffy intestines and other atrocities into the snow that would never again be pristine.

  “ ‘Tis no place for a lady,” Broc’s captain yelled.

  “If I see a lady, Garreck, I’ll be sure to voice your concern!” She charged onward, towards a worse killer than Lumynari: Shadow’s priestess. The bitch was fast collecting souls! Sensing danger, the deceptively beautiful handmaiden swiveled her gaze, her eyes widening when she spotted Emily. Piercing screeches emanated from her blood red lips, ghouls halting their massacre. Hollowed eyes turned to Emily, swords of the undead lifting. Collectively, their newly battle-killed bodies charged towards her.

  Terror seized Emily. Her armband hissed, jerked a few times then fluttered to the ground. Emily offered a mere glance. No time to retrieve Dezenial’s gift—

  Her eyes jerked back down to the ground. Her armband flipped over and over like a fish out of water. Ghouls gained on her. Burbling at her feet recaptured her attention.

  Emily’s sword lowered, as did her jaw.

  Her gold armband grew and grew into a towering golden demon. Wings unfurled, its tail snapping like a whip. It mewled down at her, then whipped around and swept enemies aside, its talons mincing the ghouls. Their screams, coupled with the shocking appearance of a towering gold demon, were the only sounds for long moments, skirmishes and battles paused. Everyone gawked. The priestess used this to her advantage. Leaping over dead bodies, she sought escape.

  “Pendaran!” Emily shouted. He sought who called him, spotted her, then followed where she pointed. “Your magic! Stop her, or she takes all these lost souls with her!” How she knew that, she could only assume something from her Lumynari heritage. She could see Pendaran’s lips moving, his gaze intent on the priestess. If he succeeded and she died, the ghouls she’d created would drop, the souls released to find either God, or Hell, depending upon the life they’d lead, or so Emily surmised. A shrill scream erupted and abruptly silenced, the evil incarnate sorceress slumping into a heap of green flames, the rest of her entourage joining in the fire Pendaran had called forth.

  “Emily, down!” Kaven shouted.

  She dropped. Overhead, something hissed. She lifted her face, spitting out bits of snow. Kavan stumbled several steps towards her. Numerous black arrows protruded from her favorite sentry’s abdomen and chest. Blood frothed from his mouth. His stunned eyes held hers. He collapsed to his knees, head bowed, his arms hanging limp. Before she inhaled her next breath, he was dead.

  Fury unsheathed from deep within her.

  Buzzing in her head pulsated. She felt heat in her eyes. Around her, gasps penetrated the tingling sensation coming over her. She knew. Whispers abounded of her hair burning like white flame, her eyes amber fire. Slowly, Emily rose to her feet. Several mortals fell away, crossing themselves. Lumynari, however, thought to charge her by twos. Easily, they were mowed down as she cut a path towards a group of Outlanders fighting fearlessly against too many Lumynari.

  “This day,” she wailed in Balkorian, “is not victorious for you!” Utilizing their surprise her image caused, she cut down three before having to parry against the forth. Silver and yellow sparks arced from their colliding blades. Horrific stench and smoke burned her nostrils and eyes and she knew villagers reverted to tactics used by their ancestors. Burning arrows began finding their mark in many Lumynari warriors, screams causing her to laugh.

  “Emily . . . you are crazed,” Broc pressed his back to hers and together, they sliced and parried their enemies. Breathing became labored. Too much smoke. Her innards roiled, involuntarily gagging, stench of burning bodies horrific.

  “You cannot remain here.”

  “Seems everyone is of that opinion no matter where I am.” There was a sourness in the pit of her stomach. She bent over, resting her free hand on her knee. “Not now. I don’t have time to be sick!”

  “You must return to the keep. It’s the only safe haven for you.”

  “I do not need safety. I need . . . and end to this stench, and a way back to Dezenial. He battles the same as we, below.”

  “Your husband fights by our side—over there, Lady Emily.” Sword clashed against sword, momentarily waylaying her from reacting to Broc’s revelation. “Astride a horse, you will be swift, but in plain view atop of all. Xyn will send you to safety.”

  “Who the hell is Xyn?”

  Broc relinquished his sword. Blade continued slashing of his own volition until felling the enemy. Broc clutched Emily, forcing her to focus on him. “An Elder, Pendaran’s sire. He will cast you back to the castle.”

  “I don’t need wizards to assist—“

  Keer’dra! For your safety, he is concerned. Obey! You must leave here!

  Emily pushed away from Broc. Like a wild woman, she searched through wafting smoke and screaming mutilations. Various blades swung, she fought back, cutting a red path towards what felt like a beacon. When had he surfaced? Why had he not reached out to her? Her nape prickled. Instinct dropped her hard to the red snow. Arrows sailed overhead, thudding into the enemy. Hissing rage erupted, their comrades weaving before falling from toxic arrow tips meant for the humans. She pulled herself up and started running. For the safety of her twins, Broc was right—she needed to get the hell away from here! Though ancient power cour
sed through her, for whatever reason, maybe her pregnancy, strength and endurance diminished.

  This was a mere playing field for the Lumynari.

  “Where the hell are you?” she screamed out to Dezenial. Her eyes were fire, watering. How could anyone see? She glanced over her shoulder. A sound. Broc, running towards her. Shouting. Waving his arm. Blade ripping free from the laird’s grasp, streaking past her. What? She looked in front of her. Blade protruded from the throat of a body having emerged unseen from thick smoke.

  “My lady.”

  Emily was tackled down into the snow, a body pinning her.

  Long seconds passed, no blade penetrating her. “Emily? Are ye’ hurt?” Broc, frantic.

  Emily lifted her face, again spewing snow. “Sister Wind, oh lady fair, please command your purest air.” She buried her forehead, the numbing effect of snow clearing her head. Strange words to utter. She’d try to remember to ask Aunsgar or Dezenial how she’d known them. Genetic memory again?

  “Your magic improves.”

  Focus. Too much haze. Where are you, Dez?

  Wind whistled, clearing smoke. Sudden ability to see enabled villagers and Forest Lords to better defend against enemy attack.

  “You must thank her.”

  Emily yelped. Aunsgar dropped to her side with such stealth, he could have been the enemy. Fear hitched her ability to breathe. “Sister Wind . . . will be properly tended . . . soon as I’m free of this carnage.”

  Twine snapped, Aunsgar’s bow setting free a soaring arrow. Cry of pain. A second yelp when a bolt thudded into their enemy as well. Aunsgar and Emily shared a quick grin. Looking over their shoulder, Reignsfeugh was already running away, crossbow aimed at his next target.

  “You cannot remain.” The Elf prince clasped her elbow and helped her back to her feat, holding on a few minutes more until she felt more steady. “Broc, we guard her to Xyn. The only way she’ll be free from here is the Elder’s power.”

  Arguing was moot. Surrounded by a dozen Elves and men, she almost giggled at the unrealism. Running as quickly as they could in the churned snow, they dodged and weaved through mayhem of bodies and occasionally were forced to stop and battle for their lives. Mental visualization, and Emily swept her hand. An avalanche of snow swept up like a wave, crashing down on a group of Lumynari and their hideous creatures charging their way. It would take bulldozers to uncover their bodies . . . if such a thing existed in this realm.

  A tall man, isolated in his stance, and as if invisible to those fighting around him, kept his gaze transfixed upon her. Xyn. Has to be. Their eyes locked. A small nod, scarcely perceptible, was his acknowledgement of her. Shouting, Emily spun about, her sword raised. The enemy’s numbers were dissipating. She parried, Garreck stepping in and confiscating her battle. Her upper arm was grappled, yanking her to turn and continue her flee towards magicks of the Elder.

  Why doesn’t he just cast his spell from where he’s standing? Is this some kind of sideshow for him? Sick bastard! Rage swelled. How many more will have to be cut down, dead or maimed before he drops his popcorn and acts instead of watches?

  Is this how it was for Aurelia?

  Careful your thoughts, Keer’dra.

  Emily yanked free, surprised to see it was Broc holding her. Crazed, she kept turning, searching for her beloved. “Dezenial!” Tears sprang forth as she gathered her so in-the-way-skirt, and sprinted towards him.

  “Keer’dra!” Horror contorted his features.

  Emily was pulled down to the ground. Gasping, lungs clawing to breathe, she gulped as Sister Wind pushed into her great handfuls of air. Dawning was slow. It was not the enemy lying atop her. No talons grappled her skull, trying to yank free her soul. Another attack must have been coming from outside her visual boundary, her concentration distracted by her obsession to get to Dezenial.

  Dezenial.

  She lifted her head, and swiped snow from her eyes. The body lurched from atop her. Broc’s legs, running. Her eyes raced ahead.

  Emily’s blood curdling scream stilled all far and wide.

  Dezenial lay upon his back.

  Blood pulled either side of him. Pristine white snow morbidly reminded Emily of cherry juice pouring over childhood snow cones. Hands having lovingly caressed her now clutched a black javelin. A javelin protruding from his stomach.

  “No! NO! NO!” Her running was halted, grabbed from behind.

  “Milady, you must—“

  Whomever had the misfortune to be warning her was downed, grabbing his face. She’d slugged with psychotic strength.

  Broc was kneeling over Dezenial.

  “Get away from him!” She tugged the Forest Lord. “You’re killing him!”

  “Lass, I’m tryin’ ta’ save him!” Broc yanked his tunic over his head, fisting it into the puddle flooding around the nasty weapon protruding from the Lumynari’s belly.

  “Dezenial!” Emily screamed, crazed. Hadn’t she saved Aedan? She held out her hands, flipping them over and over. No heat. Nothing! Frantically, she looked to her husband. Azure eyes beheld her tightly. She grasped his face. “I don’t know how to call the power.”

  “It only comes when the person is pure.”

  “Bullshit! It’s my power! It should be up to me to call upon it.” She was sobbing. “Don’t you die. Lumynari don’t die. You’re supposed to be immortal. Daemon. Call upon your power! Hades!” She screamed for her father-in-law. “HADES!”

  Dezenial smiled sadly. His bloodied hand reached up, caressing her face. “Denzyr . . .”

  He coughed, spittle of dark blood trailing from the corner of his mouth. Emily watched, horrified, as it left a trail down the side of his face. Wildly, she shook her head.

  “Kendara. Denzyr. Protect them. Make sure to . . . ruin them.” He grinned, blood saturating his teeth. Crunching of snow sounded faster than she could deflect any incoming attack. Her shoulder was seized. Emily found herself shoved aside.

  She became manic.

  Hissing, clawing, grappling hair and ripping it free, loud howling from her nemesis rented the air. It fed her hysteria. Apprehended around her waist, arms pinned by an equally strong band of muscle, Emily was heaved back.

  “Lass, ‘tis our Elder. He’s the only one able ta’ save him,” Garreck shouted over her lunatic screaming.

  She wilted. Teeth chattered. Chin quivering, eyes burning and blurred, she watched, emotionally shriveling. “Let me go,” she said in a broken whisper. Snatching away, she collapsed by her husband’s side. Ancient words failed to penetrate her fog of despair. Dezenial looked up at the Elder, frowning. His eyes darted, landed on Emily, searching. Resignation was not difficult to decipher.

  “No you don’t!” She grasped the arm of the old man. “You have to save him. He has to see his children. He has to be here. Please. I just found him! You can’t let him be taken away. You can’t let the twins not know their—“

  “Keer’dra. Hold me in your memory . . . and I will remain in your heart . . . hellcat.”

  Emily cupped his dark face with both hands. Hot tears splashed him. “Please, Dez. Use your magic—don’t die. Please,” her voice dropped to a whisper. “Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me. Please. I beg of you. Don’t leave . . . us.” She choked with grief.

  “Always, I will be . . . with you, Keer’dra.” His eyes darted up to the Elder again, a slight nod before looking to her again. “My love . . . Keer’dra . . . always yours.”

  His eyes closed.

  His hand slid from the weapon.

  Emily unhinged. Raw primitive grief consumed. Wailing loudly, even hidden banshees cringed. Emily’s head fell back, agony rampant in her desolate keening. Rage and pain so astute, Hades heard, answering with strange arcs of red lightning. Many crossed themselves. Enemies fled. Searching for their secret footpaths back into the safety of Balkore, they nearly dove into various openings. And still Emily’s wailing shredded the air. Arcs of light intensified. Fires burned long moments where they landed.

  D
ezenial lay dead.

  The Elder had yet to cease his muttering. With unexpected strength, he grasped her elbow, yanking her to her feet, forcing her to step away from Dezenial’s body. She yanked free.

  “Never touch me!” She reached for her sword, realizing it had been discarded somewhere during her run. Light drew her attention. Dezenial’s body was swathed in swirling mist, an ethereal blue light encompassing him.

  Her breath was cut off.

  Hades was retrieving her Dezenial.

  Her mind became languid, without hope.

  He would take him away, never for her to see again.

  Desolation swept over her. Her heart seized; eyes squeezed shut, blocking the horror of her beloved being taken where she couldn’t follow. Why can’t I die as well? How am I supposed to face each day, each and every . . . single—

  Her eyes snapped open. One final look. Before he truly vanishes.

  Dezenial’s body was gone. Even his spilt blood no longer existed.

  As if he’d never been.

  “Lady Emily—“

  “You could have saved him!” She turned away, too disgusted to look at Xyn.

  “Lass . . . Emily, ‘tis most sorry I am,” Broc said, hesitantly stepping towards her.

  Tears coursed down her face. She stared at him, too bleary-eyed to truly see. She gulped hard, hot tears saturating her face. Alone. Her attention slid from him. An Elf gazed up from the frozen ground. His dead eyes focused on something unseen except by him. Near him, a Lumynari would never pillage and plunder again. Who had died first? Strange thing to want to know. The Lumynari’s mouth remained open, forever howling even in death. Apparently, his had been painful. Or maybe, whatever confiscated his soul in the afterlife terrified him beyond the evils of Balkore. Gurgling, snarling, something fast approached. It stampeded towards her.

  Broc pulled his sword.

  “No!” Emily’s shout halted him. “ ‘Tis my guardian.” Golden demon launched, stretched, and contorted into gold lightening. Emily held out her arm as the band touched her skin, wrapped tightly around, once again an intricate design of soft metal upon her flesh. She clasped it, cradling her guardian, remembering when Dezenial had placed it upon her. And harder, she cried. Her gaze cast out its net, capturing random visions of battle-shocked expressions, others weary and bleeding, backslapping from a few interpreting their ability to remain breathing to be a victory.