by Swanson, Jay
He drew together the light again, this time finding it even easier than before in spite of his wounds. The area around him erupted in a glorious display of refractions before he focused it into a solid white and then launched it at the incoming lizard. The dragon swung low, launching its black death under the beam in hopes of catching Ardin under his attack. But Ardin was faster.
He swung the light down, meeting the fire head on. The two forces caught in mid air, the light being forced around the darkness as the fire caught up with and compressed into itself. Then the light won out, burning away the flame and forcing its way into the dragon's throat with a flash. The light was absorbed into the dragon and then reflected outwardly through its scales. The beast didn't even have time to scream before its entire body was enveloped in light, vibrating and shaking and incinerated in the night.
Ardin dropped to his knees, suddenly more exhausted than he had been since facing the Shadow King over the Abyss. He shook his head, the water in which he found himself stinging his burns with every recurring wave. He knelt there staring at the moonlight in the water for what seemed like an age before Hevetican appeared at his side.
“That was.... that was incredible, Ardin.”
Ardin nodded his drooping head as best he could; it felt like the dragon he had just killed was sitting on the back of it. Hevetican grabbed his arm and helped him stand, then pointed out into the water. A small boat was approaching, and before Ardin knew it, the Fisherman jumped over the side and waded towards him.
Hope picked his heart back up from the depths of exhaustion as he moved out to meet his old friend. His joy was quickly diffused, however, as the hand that was extended to him did not look so familiar.
Paul Donovan clasped him by the hand and elbow and shook him vigorously. “Creator above, lad. I hope you'll soon be forgivin' my dismissin' you outta hand before.” The broad man grinned from within his salted dark stubble. “I'd hate to offend ye and wind up like those piss-poor featherless birds!”
The introductions had been quick, Donovan's suspicion surrounding the Truans relieved as quickly as Ardin could explain their origins. Even Hevetican seemed more relieved than afraid to meet the new steward of his people. Donovan, it seemed, had a reputation much like Cid among the Truans, though his was for mercy.
“I can't believe the old dog's passed on,” Donovan said when Ardin finally broke the news of Cid's death. “He saved my life more than once. I always told 'im if he went and got himself killed he might as well just kill me in the process, I'd be doomed without him.” He laughed sadly. “A good friend and the best captain I ever had...”
The sadness that infused itself into Donovan's tone only renewed Ardin's own, and spoke of a deeper love for a man that Ardin realized he had hardly known. “I doubt he could have imagined a better way to go.”
“We had bets on who'd get put down first...” Donovan said with a small smile after a long pause. “Guess I'm buyin' the first round when I finally see him next.” He looked around beyond them as the Truans cautiously made their way back towards their leader. “Now, how many of this lot are there exactly? I got quite the armada behind me for once, though only a few can carry a large payload and fewer'n that can fight.”
“To be honest, I no longer have any idea,” Hevetican said sadly as he looked back on his own people. “There are thousands to be sure, but how many thousand I cannot say.”
“We'll look into it then,” Donovan said as another small boat grounded itself in the shallows behind them. “Was told there'd be a lot of ya, but there's no sense in not takin' a muster afore we get the lot of ya on board.”
“Make it quick,” Ardin said as he finished healing the last of his wounds. “There's no telling who else might be joining us if we stick around too long.”
“Right enough,” Donovan said as he waved a group of men over from the beached vessels. “These boys'll take count quick as a whale swallowin' minnows. Not that they'll be swallowin' any of yer people,” he said as if Hevetican might actually worry.
“Please,” Hevetican bowed his head in concession. “The sooner we can leave this place the better it will be for all of us.”
“Where will you take them?” Ardin hadn't even thought this far until now. “You said you were told there would be a lot... did Cid get word to you?”
“Nah, lad, though I wish it were him.” Donovan scratched his chin and waved the approaching group over to begin their count. “Some young major from Elandir gave me word that you'd be needin' my help. And with the way things was deterioratin' around there at the time, I figured it best to take his word for it and make for the forbidden continent. Lucky we found you, too. Those filthy sea snakes had changed their patterns some, forced us farther south than we first wanted to be comin'.”
“But where can we go?” Hevetican looked as though everything he heard drained his hopes. “If Veria isn't safe, what hope have we of finding a haven?”
“Not all o' Veria is up in arms yet,” Donovan said with a laugh. “Elandir ain't so influential as they like to believe themselves to be. We'll take you south, somewhere near Rinoa, and find you some land to squat on 'til all this is over. The people in those parts are much more inclined to help the needy in any case. The lad here can tell you all about it, I'm sure.”
“I won't be coming with you,” Ardin said finally. “I need to finish things here.”
Donovan sighed. “I wondered if you'd say somethin' foolish like that. Lad, let me get these folk to safer shores, then let's finish things here. There ain't nothin' so important as savin' the lives o' the helpless. After that, I promise we can tear this continent a new hole to screw itself in and put that Demon squarely in it.”
“There's no time.” Ardin backed away slightly, somehow scared this man might try to detain him. “You want to save people? Fine. The best way I can see to do that is to strike at the source from which all of this is coming. I have to meet the Brethren to the north and put an end to whatever the Relequim is planning before it gains traction.”
“You're just a boy, lad.” Donovan seemed to be losing his jovial tone.
“A boy who just killed three dragons in the span of twenty minutes.” Ardin didn't back down. “You'd do well to remember that, old man. If you trusted Cid so much, you shouldn't go questioning his choice of charges when all you've done is wander in and get a handful of ships sunk.”
Hevetican stepped between them, cutting the argument off with the plea of an open hand. “Please, let the boy go. He is right in saying he has a calling elsewhere, and I doubt you wish to find yourself at odds with him so quickly.”
Donovan looked like he might continue to speak his mind anyway, but let out a long gust of air and shook his head. “It'll be a shame to waste power like that on fools' errands.”
“Sir!” One of Donovan's men shouted from along the shore. “Someone here claims to know the lad there.”
“Send 'im over.” The resignation in Donovan's voice told that he had given in.
Donovan's crew member began to walk slowly over with a ragged-looking figure as Hevetican turned back to Donovan. “How long will it take to count my people and take them to your ships?”
“Not long,” Donovan laughed. “Mariners are excellent counters when it comes to bottles 'n noses. They'll have yer bunch aboard before you can figure out how to spit backwards.”
The expression puzzled Hevetican, but Ardin's puzzlement was greater at the realization of who the man walking towards him was. “Shill?”
“You can see me that well in the dark?” Shill laughed. “I'm impressed, boy.”
“Who's this then?” Donovan asked Ardin as the two men joined them on the beach.
“Shill, the master of the Renault's royal bodyguard. He saved me from one of their own who tried to murder me not long ago. I hadn't seen him since then; I figured he must have been killed.”
“Well met.” Donovan put out his massive hand and shook Shill's so vigorously that Ardin wondered if the old Islen
dan might break. “You fought with us in Albentine, didn't ya?”
“Yes,” Shill said as he unconsciously rubbed the blood back into his hand. “Just a boy myself then.”
“As were we all,” Donovan grinned. “We grew up quick, though.”
“Ardin.” Shill turned to face him with a renewed intensity. “I want to go with you. I know you'll be staying, and I need to get back to the Renaults.”
Ardin could feel Hevetican's hand on his arm, squeezing lightly but urgently as he tried to focus on Shill. “Of course, but I thought you were wounded.”
“I am,” Shill said. “But not so much that I can't make one last journey. Take me with you.”
“Ardin, no.” Hevetican was whispering to him now.
Ardin ignored Hevetican. He needed to head north; there was no sense in staying here any longer. “I won't be traveling slowly, Shill. In fact, I doubt you'll be able to keep up at all.”
“All I need is a horse. I'll keep up fine from the saddle.”
“I haven't seen a horse in weeks, Shill,” Ardin said grimly. “This place is practically barren.”
“I think I can help with that,” Donovan said. “One of the ships was carryin' a load o' horses to Brenton before we were barred from the ports. We were gonna let them out on land here in any case, better than havin' 'em starve in the hull of a ship. They should suit yer needs just fine.”
“Excellent.” Shill grinned at the offer. “We can set off as soon as they're unloaded then.”
“I'll get them right to it,” Donovan said.
Ardin nodded his consent. It wasn't his place to deny Shill's return to his pledges, even if he was worried about their speed. He turned and walked a little ways away to let his mind take in all that had just happened while he waited for the horses. How he had survived seemed impossible to him, the stories Cid had told him of these dragons making them out to be virtually indestructible. But that realization, that moment of clarity when he saw the Atmosphere as clearly as he saw the world around him, and how the two met... how he was now a conduit between them. That had changed everything. Perhaps even altered his destiny further. Had Charsi figured that out by the end? If it really was her... if she came to help me, she must have at least known.
“Beware the Dread gods, Ardin.” The old Truan's tone dropped conspiratorially as he came alongside. “Their strength lies in deception, their power in darkness. I will not tell you what to do, nor where to go, but beware the lies of the Relequim. Beware his servants and their tactics to confuse and distort the truth.”
“I'll be careful, Hevetican.” Ardin patted the old man on the shoulder. “Thank you for everything.”
“The horses are ready!” Donovan shouted as the animals were brought along.
“It's time for me to go.” Ardin made the best smile that he could before he started walking over towards Donovan. “That major, the one who contacted you?”
“Aye?” Donovan still didn't look like he believed that Ardin's choice was remotely sane. “What of 'im?”
“You need to tell him that his real enemy lies to the west, on the ocean.” Ardin took the reins of one of the horses and patted his snout. “The Relequim has sent a massive invasion force to strike at Veria. They'll be there all too soon, I'm afraid.”
“Invasion force?” Donovan squinted quizzically. “Lad, he's tried that before. He should know better.”
“He tried it when mankind was united and backed by the Magi. When the Greater Being was there to help them create the Shadow.” Ardin sighed. “I'm afraid nothing stands in his way this time.”
EIGHTEEN
ANDERS KEATON HAD NO TIME TO WASTE IF HE WANTED TO HELP GET ELANDIR BACK IN ORDER. As much as he wanted to know what Merodach had seen, he knew that his curiosities would have to wait. He bound the Mayor, his two guards, and Rast with the cords from Merodach's massive curtains. They threw each in a separate room in the Mayor's offices and locked the doors. He left two Hunters to guard them, instructing them to bar the door and hide themselves.
He took the rest of them and ran down the stairs. His throat felt like a shredded, bloody mess as he forced each breath to scrape down through it, but nearly drowning did give him an appreciation for the ability, marred as it may have been. They didn't even bother clearing the rooms as they went, so certain were they that every Woad in the building was dead. The monsters had shown a single-minded determination to kill Merodach that left little room for doubt. The pile up in Merodach's lobby was all that was left of that wave.
What else are they after, then? Keaton's mind did somersaults trying to figure out what other targets might be of value to the Demon in the city. Perhaps he figures we're weak enough to finish off now. But this isn't nearly enough of a force to do that.
They got to the base of the tower far more quickly than they had ascended it. Keaton slowed his men down as they entered the lobby, not wanting to walk into any surprises. They swept into the broad darkness, keeping their lights off to avoid drawing unwanted attention. As they moved among the couches and desks scattered around the room, Keaton noticed flashes coming from outside.
He motioned to move to the exit, watching as the flickering in the streets grew closer and brighter.
Gunfire. He recognized it suddenly. Why is it coming closer?
They moved outside, taking up positions behind large cement planters whose tenants had long since died or gone dormant in the winter chill. The gunfire was indeed growing louder and more frantic. It almost appeared to be coming from every outward direction at once. A Hunter appeared off to their right, running straight for them and waving. It was Saltman.
“Sir!” He came to a stop directly in front of Keaton. “We set up a perimeter like you asked, sir. Found a few survivors and sent them indoors. About twenty minutes ago, a bunch of the City Guard started showing up, scared shitless and moving for the gate. A few minutes later, those things started showing up from every direction. They're pressing in like foxes on a hen, sir.”
Merodach, Keaton realized with a drop in his stomach. They know he's alive.
“Well then...” Keaton had to swallow hard to finish his sentence. “Kill 'em.”
The open square before them suddenly filled with soldiers. Some came running, looking for cover or vantage points, the rest backed in slowly, firing in continual bursts at monsters Keaton was coming to know all too well. He motioned for his men to advance and join those entering the square, hoping to relieve them and bridge the gaps before the Woads found a way to flank them.
If those things get around or behind these men, we're all dead. He grabbed two of his Hunters before they could leave, motioning for them to find explosives to throw into the oncoming Woads. Then he walked over to the statue of Merodach in the center of the square, stepped up on the dais next to his stony enemy, and looked for targets to shoot.
The Woads were still a ways back down the roads. Hemmed in by the high walls of the banks and other buildings that surrounded the northern square, they had nowhere to go but directly into the bullets of their enemies ahead. Thankfully the sheer violence of the onslaught of hot lead was enough to buffer the soldiers, but occasionally one would get close enough to claw at one of them. It was a miracle they hadn't broken yet, and if they did now, it would jeopardize every other team.
The Hunters he had sent with the charges began activating and tossing whatever they could find towards the Woads. The concussions rocked the soldiers back, but tore into the Woads far worse. Suddenly a scrambling noise broke through above the din of the fight, the sound of shingles and glass breaking and clattering to the ground.
Keaton looked up into the darkness in time to see the outline of what looked like a spindly wolf. It leaped off the side of one of the buildings overhead. He tried to shout and warn the men in front of him, but all that came out was a long painful croak.
The monster landed in the middle of the center line, grabbing one of the soldiers from the City Guard and ripping out his throat with a claw before throw
ing his body back down the road from where it had come. The soldiers to either side backed away in panic, shooting wildly at it and missing every time. Keaton pulled his rifle up, chiding himself subconsciously for hesitating, and shot the thing twice at the bridge of its long snout.
“Get back in line!” He croaked. “NOW!”
The men swung back into place, the flicker of their gunfire illuminating the Woads that were only yards away. Keaton ran forward, pulling his last explosive from his belt and charging it before he threw it down the street. This was where the night would be won or lost.
He joined the ragged line as his charge went off, the flash showing him targets that he unloaded on as quickly as he saw them. The flicker and flash of his rifle obstructed his view more than it helped, but soon there were fewer and fewer of the beasts making their appearance, let alone attempts at attacking the soldiers. Keaton signaled silently for the advance. He sent his men back into the city to hunt down the survivors and kill the wounded in front of them.
A lone soldier turned and walked back towards him. A member of the City Guard, it was impossible to tell his rank as his uniform was shredded and hanging from his shoulders. But as he approached in the darkness, Keaton recognized his bearing, and then his face.
“Gredge?” he croaked.
“Anders Keaton.” Colonel Gredge reached out to take his hand. “I never thought I'd be so glad to see your clean nose in a fight.”
“Sir.” Keaton shook the colonel's hand firmly. “Glad... you're alright.”
“What's wrong with your voice, boy? You're not getting emotional on me or nothin' are you?”
“No sir... my throat...”
“I see.” Gredge nodded. “Well my boys did a decent job, but we were glad to see your Hunters show up. They swung things in our favor to say the least. Damndest thing to see those monsters make for the north together like that. Just minutes before they'd been pressing towards the center of town, then like someone flipped a switch, they turned back on those of us who had come around to flank 'em.”