by JANRAE FRANK
Lightning stabbed across the sky in spears of electric blue and yellow, following the voice of CallThunder: They spoke together to the winds. The thunder of the heavens echoed their summons. The winds slammed across the courtyard now. An uncanny wind that did not reach to the soldiers, but caught the wings of the harpies and demons. The creatures screamed and tried to rise against it. A few reached the upper air only to be crushed into the cliffs that rose above the monastery. Now ice formed in the air currents, gilding the battlements and coating the wings of the creatures. The weight of the ice bore them down into the waiting swords of the soldiers.
A shriek of rage sounded to the mage's left. From the corner of his eye Eliahu saw a demon charge down upon him. He tried to free just enough of his power to call the lightning without losing control of the winds, but the storm bucked and pulled, threatening destruction to all. He dared not let go of even the smallest portion. Then the claws ripped through his robes and back, leaving five long jagged tears in his flesh. Eliahu screamed as he staggered, half blinded by the searing pain. The winds slipped his control as he fell. Hail rained down, striking indiscriminately among the soldiers and their attackers.
The demon struck again to finish him. But this time the terrible claws did not reach the winter mage. A gigantic brindled form rose behind the creature. Furred claws caught and crushed the demon.
"Control it, mage!" A strange guttural voice growled. "Else you kill us all!"
Eliahu looked up into the face of a blood bear, its muzzle snow white with age. He did not question this, for in his own land the snow bears were the companions and champions of his people. He forced his awareness back once more into the winds. The hail withdrew.
The shaman Grawl dropped to all fours and curled protectively around Eliahu. "Release it, send it back into the upper air. You bought us time to get here. My people will make short work of these creatures."
Eliahu nodded. He struggled for consciousness against the growing weakness and terrible pain of his wounds. He separated the layers of air. The thunder quieted. Lightning gave one last flash and moved north, rising away from the monastery. The winds followed it.
"You have done well," the shaman rumbled, lifting the mage onto his broad lap and cradling him like a small injured child.
Eliahu could feel the warmth of the bear's spirit amid the warmth of his furred limbs. A feeling of peace stole over him. He tried to speak and could not. Darkness claimed him. His head rolled back against the bear's arm and he lay still.
* * * *
Tagalong crouched and ran, sword in one hand, hammer in the other. She weaved around knots of furiously fighting myn. A handful of the brothers stood before their doors, staring in confusion and horror for in the more than five centuries the monastery had stood nothing of evil had ever before reached their sanctuary. The stout dwarf rushed into the middle of them.
"Back! Inside! You can't fight them! Harpies and demons." She herded them, smacking one on the rump with the flat of her blade and nudging another with a firm shove of her hammer.
A hesitating brother to her left screamed. Tagalong spun on her heel. A harpy stood there, biting deeply into the now headless Eldari. Strips of bloody flesh hung from the creature's mouth. It sucked them in and took another bite of the Eldari. The twisted hag's face regarded her as it ate, the red eyes glowing with hate and hunger. A long mane of matted dirty yellow hair hung to its waist. Long taloned hands gripped its prey. Drooping emaciated breasts hung from its chest. Feathered wings extended from its back and from the waist down it was feathered and taloned like a hellish bird of prey.
Bile rose into Tagalong's throat at the sight and she felt as if a great weight had slammed into her stomach as all the nightmares of the Great War came rushing back at her. She had never seen one before, but she believed it was creatures like that which had attacked her oldest brother's smithy in the Iradrim Mountains and murdered him and his family. Rage seized her.
Tagalong shouted for the others to run. She whirled the hammer twice and released it. It struck the harpy in the head, stunning it. The dwarf leaped on the creature instantly. She shoved the sword into its body with a twist and a jerk. The claws dug into her legs, tearing through her boots. Tagalong screamed in fury and pain, stabbing again and again with her sword. Abruptly the creature lay still. She spied her hammer and started to climb off the corpse to retrieve it.
Claws closed on her shoulders from behind, piercing the sturdy mail in three places. Tagalong looked up into the grotesque face of a leering demon. She shifted her grip on the sword, striking behind her at hip level. The demon shrieked and threw her against a wall. The sword went spinning from her grasp. Tagalong struck hard and slid down, the wind knocked from her body. She rose on her hands and knees, crawling dazedly toward her hammer. The demon bent over her snarling. She could smell its breath now. It stank of sulfur and brimstone. Tagalong threw herself sideways and rolled. Her hand closed on her hammer and she came up instantly onto her feet. The claws grabbed at her. The hammer connected with the nearest one, shattering bones. The demon screamed. Tagalong backed up. Her shoulder bumped the wall. She put her back to it and assumed a spread-legged stance to put more power into the next blow.
A tremendous roar shattered the air behind the attacking demon. A blood bear rose behind it in fighting stance, twelve feet at the shoulder. Tagalong's eyes widened and she gasped: She had forgotten how huge they looked when they stood on their hind legs. Claws that could slice six inches into the hardest wood on the first stroke ripped the left arm off the demon. The creature beat its wings and tried to rise. The blood bear's fangs bit into the demon's leg, dragging it back. While it shrieked and twisted, the bear methodically tore it apart like a child destroying a doll.
"Score one for the bears," Tagalong muttered. The dwarf ducked aside, scooped up her sword, and wiped it on her pants leg. "Aejys. Gotta find Aejys."
* * * *
Josh wept and twisted in Clemmerick's arms like an uneasy child in the grip of fevered dreams, following the paths of Eliahu's power. He felt as if he pulled the layers of air together and called the lightning down. Power exulted through his veins and he sang with it. This was how it should have been. Untrained, untaught, unlettered ... and yet he recognized it, knew the taste of it like fire on his tongue. Then the demon struck Eliahu and Josh woke screaming, his fingers digging into the fabric of Clemmerick's shirt. The ogre pulled the blanket up around him to keep him warm and held him like a child, his head against Josh's, waiting out the panic. Only when the storm had departed did Josh finally sleep again. This time he did not dream.
* * * *
There was one they did not see. Because he had no wings Eliahu's storm did not hinder him. He crouched on the battlement, watching the struggle. The archer knew he would not leave here alive when he volunteered for a chance to slay the Lion of Rowanslea, one of the most hated leaders of the Sharani who had torn apart his homeland. He held a yew bow. There were only three arrows in his quiver. One of those arrows alone was enough to bring down a dragon. It had taken his master, Mephistis Coleth, a year to forge each of the points, which bore a special rune. No armor could turn them. Nothing could survive them. He spied his target almost immediately, but in the melee he could not get a clear shot. So he waited.
* * * *
Cassana stood beside Aejys as the fighting died down. She looked up at the last flash of lightning as Eliahu released the storm. In that brilliant light she saw the archer on the walls. A bright flash like an eye of blood shone as he nocked the first arrow to the string. Cassana cried out a warning, sensing that the target was Aejys. She leaped forward, shoving her friend out of the way. Her body jerked at the impact as the first one caught her in the chest.
"Get down," Cassana gasped, shoving Aejys to her knees. She stepped into the path of the second arrow, which ripped, through her lung. The Odaren was already falling as the archer, hoping to drive the arrow through both Cassana and the one she shielded, sent his last shot into he
r stomach.
Aejys twisted away from Cassana. She got to her feet in time to catch Cassana by the shoulders as she crumpled. "What the hell?" She felt her friend's body jerk and stared as the point of the last arrow came through her back.
"Archer! On the wall!" Aejys shouted. "Someone catch that cockwhore!"
Tamlestari took Cassana from Aejys and lowered her gently to the ground. Aejys strode off toward the wall, noting with satisfaction that Brundarad had reached it ahead of the rest: nothing escaped the shadow hound. Then she turned back to Tamlestari.
The youth recognized the nature of the arrows immediately. She pulled a handkerchief from her pocket, wrapped it around the protruding point and broke it off, careful not to let it touch her skin for the smallest scratch would mean an agonizing death.
Aejys knelt beside Cassana. She lay in her niece's arms, the purple stain of pollendine on her lips and around her nostrils. Tamlestari looked up, pale and shaken. "Mei amita's dying. Dawn is so close and she will not see it." She sounded lost and sad. The youth held up one of the arrows she had taken from her amita's body.
Aejys saw the death rune incised on its surface: an arrow that always killed. "Sa'necari," she hissed. Nothing less would have pierced the Iradrim-forged kenda'ryl rings of the Odaren's mail. Aejys knew there would be no other points like these among all the rest found on that field of slaughter: they had been meant for her, but had slain Cassana instead.
"Aejys," Cassana stirred weakly in Tamlestari's arms, "speak to ... you ... alone."
Tamlestari raised her head, frowning. "Mei Amita?"
"Alone."
"It's all right, Tamlestari," Aejys told her. "You go sit by that big oak for a moment." The lapsed paladin took her cloak from her shoulders and folded it beneath Cassana's head.
Tamlestari left reluctantly.
"She's in love ... with you," Cassana said, her voice soft and weak. A thin line of blood dribbled from the corner of her mouth mixing with the violet of the pollendine.
Aejys glancing at the lithe young Sharani. "I know."
"Have you..." Cassana broke off coughing, the dribble of blood became a stream, "any feelings ... for her?"
"Yes, my friend, I love her," Aejys said, realizing with sudden unfoldment that she did indeed love the mercurial young hoyden intensely.
"Let her carry your child," Cassana's voice slid to a whisper. "Promise me..."
"I promise."
She closed her eyes and lay back, accepting now the shadows that came for her. A last breath shuddered through Cassana Odaren and she passed from this life.
Aejys kissed her forehead, cheeks, and lips in farewell. The lapsed paladin gathered Cassana into her arms and held her tight, pressing her face into the heavy hair of her slain friend. She felt as if the world had just careened to a stop, jolting her stomach with the impact. A hollow ache began in her chest, accompanied by a tightness in her throat. Her lips thinned into a grim line. She wanted to scream, but it stayed locked in her throat. Aejys remembered that night on the bluffs at Brendorn's grave; the way Cassana had pulled her from her brooding. A deep simmering anger built inside her that was far different from her occasional flaring of temper, and she knew that it would never leave. This was a war and by running away Aejys had given Margren time to prepare it. If she had stayed and faced the situation seven years ago, Cassana and Brendorn would probably still be alive.
She wondered what terrible thing she had done in her life to deserve the ugly turns it kept taking. If she knew how she had brought this down on herself to begin with then she could make peace with her fate, but for the life of her she could not think of anything. What had she done wrong, witting or unwitting, that had engendered such hatred in Margren's heart as to bring them to this pass? What in Haven's name could I have done different? Where did I go wrong with Margren? God help me! What could I have done different that would have spared Cassana and Brendorn? What!
A gentle hand touched her shoulder and she looked up to see that Tamlestari had returned unbidden. "I'm sorry, loyal heart, she's gone," Aejys said softly, her voice catching on the words.
A broken cry came from the youth. She dropped to her knees, dragging Cassana's body from Aejys' arms. "Mei amita," the youth wept quietly, "mei amita."
Aejys squeezed Tamlestari's shoulders, pressing her cheek briefly to her hair. "You are not alone." Then she went back into her tent and returned with a blanket. Tamlestari nodded numbly as Aejys wrapped Cassana and rose with the slain Sharani noble in her arms. Tamlestari followed close. Aejys crossed the courtyard. Smoke billowed from two burning tents. The night wind caught it and blew it across them, stinging their eyes. Several soldiers beat at the flames while others dragged water from the well to throw on it. Already the brothers were out, moving the wounded and the dead from the battleground, the former to the infirmary, and the latter to the chapel. Several people started to speak to Aejys, but caught the look in her eye and let her pass unhindered.
The tall doors to the chapel stood open. Aejys stepped inside and looked about. The brothers were laying the dead reverently on the pews and covering them.
"Let us have her," a gentle voice spoke at Aejys' elbow. Father Keikero had seen and followed her in. Two brothers stood beside him, waiting.
Aejys hesitated.
"Please, Aejys, my friend," Keikero said. "Your myn need you. She is past needing what you can give."
Aejys heaved a long, heavy sigh and let them take Cassana's body from her.
Keikero slipped his arm around Tamlestari. "Come with me, my child," he said, leading her to a pew.
Aejys watched for a moment, and then turned on her heel. As she started across the courtyard Tagalong rushed up breathless. "They caught the cockwhore killed Sana," Tagalong said in a rush. "And yer not gonna like this."
"Like what? What did you do to him?"
"Not to him, what he is."
Aejys stopped in her tracks, "What?"
"He's sa'necari."
Anger blazed up in Aejys' eyes. "Margren's sleeping with the enemy," she snarled and spat on the ground.
* * * *
The sa'necari archer stood with his arms wrapped around a tree and tied behind him. One arm bled heavily where Brundarad had bitten a chunk from it. His face was savage as he spit curses at his captors. His narrow eyes slanted in, not out like the sylvans, and glowed like deep violet fires with neither pupil, nor iris, nor whites. His mouth bled from being struck. Johannes stood before him, his huge hand raised to hit him again.
"No!" Aejys said, the crowd making a path for her. "He'll never talk." Her words were calm, her face like ice, her eyes burning with a cold, controlled rage so intense no one could meet her glance.
"I could make him, Aejystrys Rowan," Hanadi said, quietly appearing at her side. She was Euzadi by birth and rearing: the nomads dealt harshly with their enemies, torture being a favorite pastime to play with captives. When her guildsmyn training warred with her upbringing, the latter usually won out.
"No. The Brothers would never countenance torture, not even of an enemy." She motioned Johannes aside.
Hanadi shrugged. "We could take him with us, torture him outside this valley."
"No. That would let Margren track us even more easily than she does now. They've probably got a link in his mind."
Johannes moved aside as Aejys approached, almost wincing at her gaze.
Aejys simply stared at the assassin a moment, remembering how Cassana died. The Waejontori spit in her face. She wiped it calmly on her shirtsleeve, and drew her dagger as he started to scream curses and imprecations. Aejys grabbed his tongue and cut it out. "No reason to trouble the Brothers with your noises," she said with such chill matter-of-factness that even Tagalong shivered. In more than thirty years she had only once seen Aejys like this: when she'd captured the Waejontori general who had butchered the people of Shaurone's West Temple.
Aejys slit his clothing open, then shoved her dagger in just above his crotch and ripped up savagely all th
e way to his breast bone. His entrails spilled around her hand as she worked the blade up. She draped them around his neck, stuffed them in his mouth. Then she wiped her dagger clean on his shirt and walked off without speaking or replying to anyone around her.
Hanadi cocked her head, staring after her. "To bad the Guild can't hire her," she whispered softly to Brundarad. Then, because her God, Hadjys the Dark Judge did not believe in torture of the flesh, she went to the Waejontori and gave him the stroke of mercy through his heart.
* * * *
The courtyard was thick with blood bears as Aejys approached the main building, intending to rejoin Tamlestari beside Cassana's body. Brothers moved around her, finding and carrying the wounded inside. A slender Eldari brother extended his hand to attract her attention.
Aejys paused. "What is it?"
"Eli needs you," the brother said softly. "Come with me."
Aejys nodded and followed him into the sanctuary. She started to turn toward the infirmary as they entered the ambulatory that linked the sanctuary to the other buildings. The brother touched her arm lightly and shook his head. "This way."
He led her down a hall that she had never been down before.
"Why isn't he with the others?" Aejys asked and feared the answer.
"Please, do not ask. Just come."
Worry creased the lapsed paladin's face. He's dying. That must be why they have placed him away from the others. It must be. My friend – two friends in one night.
The brother halted at a door and opened it. Aejys stepped in. The door closed behind her.
Eliahu lay on his side, his face pale and drawn, the glaze of pain and exhaustion in his eyes. A brother sat on a chair drawn up to the far side of the bed, bathing and bandaging Eliahu's back. Grawl curled at the foot, watching.
Aejys pulled another chair up and sat down beside him. His hand was curled around his staff. "How bad–" she started to ask and her words trailed off as her eyes took in the staff. Eliahu was too weak yet to restore the illusion. CallThunder lay beside him in full glory. She knew then who had called the storm that forced the demons and harpies within reach of their blades.