Tanza

by Amanda Greenslade

  The Bal was attired in white chainmail, a red cloak and a reflective, silvery chest-plate. A belt of silver girded his waist and a metallic-red ram’s head was nestled over each buckle of his armour.

  His head was unprotected and he had close-cropped black hair as fine as a child’s. Corded muscles stood out on the bare parts of his arms and neck, that were coated with intricate rune tattoos.

  An elaborate green neck-piece framed his upper torso and a large green stone of some kind was the setting for his Xeldfet. The five pointed star indicated he was a fully initiated Zeika, as enslaved to Zei as the demon-horse was enslaved to him.

  As with Boiva, this demon was as elusive on the waves as a wet piece of soap. If its fiery body could absorb a flying arrow I didn’t dare to imagine what would happen if I tried to touch it. Yet how could it be banished if I couldn’t touch it?

  While Bal Harar continued to stare at Crystom, the demonhorse’s snake-like eyes seemed locked on me. A wicked, pointed tongue flicked out over its fangs.

  Although I was unable to discern a way to attack the demon on the waves, I did become aware of its name: Ignice Jabez, the fiery one who causes pain.

  It raised its head, sniffing the air. Small flurries of wind brought the smell of rain even closer. I hoped the demon had as strong an aversion to water as Zeikas did in general.

  ‘Now I really wish Ciera was here,’ I murmured to Tiaro.

  ‘Well you have us,’ King Crystom suddenly shouted to his enemy.

  Surrender?

  Bal Harar cocked his head. Ignice Jabez continued to flap its wings, slowly. The sound was distracting, like someone fanning the flames of a fireplace.

  ‘I only wonder why you, the king of Tanza, are here,’ Bal Harar began, ‘and not within the safety of your waterfall city.’

  I could tell Crystom’s heart sank, but his expression did not change. Of course it would seem strange for him to be here. Even as we spoke, the many hundreds of hunter-skyearls in the mists around Centan were struggling to keep the Zeika legions occupied. If the Bal was here, he clearly knew something important was going on in Condii. If he uncovered our ruse now, it was unlikely all our citizens would escape on the Elonavé path.

  ‘What can I do?’ I asked Tiaro desperately. ‘I don’t know what to do!’

  ‘Unlike your cowardly kind, I stand with my warriors in battle,’ Crystom declared.

  Bal Harar seemed unperturbed by the jibe. Raising one eyebrow he said, ‘You are a fool. For decades I have known you would be the king I finally defeated in Tanza.’

  ‘Why bandy words about then?’ Crystom demanded. ‘You can take Tanza, you can take our very lives, yet Krii is still triumphant. I will live in victory after death for the victory of eternity has already been won.’

  ‘Ah yes, eternity. Ones with lives as short and pitiful as yours would have to hope in a life after death.’

  The smell of smoke and the roar of the flames coming off Ignice Jabez made it hard for me to hear.

  ‘What do you want?’ King Crystom asked, lifting his arms in surrender.

  ‘Your lands for my own irrepressible people! You and your self-righteous fairytales silenced,’ Bal Harar shouted. ‘You and your weakminded, evangelical, bigotry gone from this world.’

  Crystom laughed. ‘No matter how many years you live, Harar, you will never live to see that. Even if I should die. There will always be another to take up the call of Krii.’

  Bal Harar leapt from the back of his horse, landing on the edge of the parapet in a crouching position. The warriors that rushed forward to defend the king were knocked flying by Ignice Jabez’ burning tail, its acid breath and its wickedly sharp hooves. Yet it remained hovering above the ground.

  The Bal threw a fireball over Crystom’s shoulder at his Sleffionkin. Before the king could even raise his sword, Bal Harar punched him in the chest.

  King Crystom’s body convulsed and tensed up as straight as a pillar. The Bal’s fist remained against his chest, shaking with some strange force. Crystom’s feet left the ground.

  ‘Then die,’ the Zeika leader said, a smile of ecstasy spreading across his face.

  With a jerking motion, Bal Harar drew his fist away. The king’s body tore in countless places at once, dark blood gushing out. The arms separated from the body at the shoulder. Veins ruptured in the neck and the legs tore right out of their sockets.

  There were screams of shock all around me and more emotions than I could bear. Amadeus and Tyba’s cries of agony reached me through the waves, even though they didn’t specifically intend it.

  ‘Pleasure meeting you.’ With a courteous smile, Bal Harar flung what remained of the corpse down. I sensed the death of Crystom’s Sleffion-kin through the waves, like a punch to the chest.

  Dozens of skyearls attacked Bal Harar and the demon-horse, but he was fast with his two swords. Coupled with the utter devotion of his demon-horse, the Zeika leader seemed untouchable.

  The prince ran towards me shouting, ‘Do something!’

  His shock and grief came secondary to the stark realisation that if I didn’t do something, we would all die.

  I grabbed Tyba by the arm saying, ‘I need Jaalta and her piece of the Centan tree.’

  ‘You know she is injured,’ Tyba replied hotly. ‘You have the waves. Use them. Command whoever you need. You have my authority.’

  ‘All Anzaii to me!’ I shouted through the waves, hoping it was a broadwave like what Jaalta had described. ‘And bring the Centan artefact with you.’

  Several preoccupied voices floated back to me saying they would try to reach me.

  ‘Now!’ I replied. ‘Bal Harar is before us. If we do not stop him, nobody will.’

  Huddling down behind the blackened supply table, I sent my awareness towards Ciera. I quested stubbornly for his mind, finding him in a distant dream, soaring over fields of purest white.

  ‘Wake up, Emperor,’ I commanded him. ‘Your people need you! I need you.’

  There was a hint of recognition. The great skyearl stirred. As he opened first one eye and then the other, he was startled to see the Elonavé pathway already unfolded. He stood up hesitantly, watching as the other shrouder-skyearls coaxed more of the spongy white surface to unfold and flex out towards the north.

  A blast of burning air enveloped me and I snapped my attention back to my immediate surroundings. Ignice Jabez had sprayed fire at a group of Tanzans who were firing cross-bows at Bal Harar. Tyba was off to one side, calling in more troops and trying to coordinate their efforts.

  Skyearls continued to bombard Bal Harar and the fire-horse. They would soar in and dart back, looking for any opportunity to bite or slash their enemy. They mostly avoided the demon-horse, except to distract it. Any time a skyearl attempted to grapple with it, the singeing flames and acidic breath soon killed them.

  Spear skyearls flew in from the north, pitching their weapons at Bal Harar. Not one made its mark on him. Though some hit the horse, it did not appear to be injured in any way.

  ‘Krii!’ I cried.

  ‘By the nine!’ said a soldier nearby.

  Having slain all the humans and kin close by, Bal Harar sheathed his swords and gestured at his summoned demon. The great fiery wings folded at its side as it landed on top of the gatehouse next to him. It lowered its head and looked around, powerful neck muscles straining against the bounds of its summoned skin. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

  More troops ran across the top of the gatehouse, shouting incoherently. Bal Harar threw up his hands, directing fireballs bigger than his head in multiple directions. Unsheathing his swords again, he sliced the arm off one opponent and vaulted backwards to avoid the strike of another. His moves were dizzying.

  ‘Ciera!’ I called. ‘We need you!’

  At last my Sleffion-kin started to come to his senses. He shook his wings, which had been bent in an unusual position for six or seven hours. Still groggy, and parched from thirst, he ambled over to the barrels of water that had been
left for him. Lightning ripped across the sky as he ate them, wood, nails and all. Four banana trees went next, each one gone in three quick gulps down the enormous gullet.

  Ciera flexed his wings and dived off the sky kingdom. The span of his wings easily reached from one side of the central plaza to the other. Without a second thought towards the precious banana trees he’d left behind, he soared straight for the gatehouse.

  Three Anzaii from the strike force and one from the Condii Defenders ran up a rope ladder behind me and came to my side. I recognised one of them as the girl, Riftweaver, who had hailed Ciera and I near the strike force shroud. It was she who bore the Centan artefact.

  ‘Stand behind me,’ I told them. ‘Put your hands on each other and on me.’

  ‘But we must be touching the demon’s physical form in order to dispel it,’ one of the strike force Anzaii said.

  ‘I will touch it,’ I replied. I set aside the fear of what might happen to my hand. There was too much at stake now to be concerned with my own life or wellbeing. If I didn’t act soon, neither I nor any Tanzans would be around to worry about it.

  Tiaro was transfixed with Ignice Jabez, her full attention upon it. The demon-horse squealed and pawed the ground, staring straight at us. Bal Harar was occupied with a relentless tide of Tanzan attackers.

  ‘Dear Krii…’ Ciera began, still coming to terms with my surroundings, ‘you’re right in front of it!’

  ‘I can’t believe we’ve lasted this long,’ one of the Anzaii replied.

  ‘I think there’s a specific reason for that,’ Tiaro said.

  Using our close contact with each other and the artefacts, I allowed the other Anzaii to hear Ciera and Tiaro too.

  Without Tiaro even having to say so, I knew her thoughts centred on the Zeikas’ attempts to capture me near both Tez and Telby City. Now that we had seen a waverade artefact, it didn’t seem quite so strange that the Zeikas specifically wanted me.

  ‘Bal Harar’s minions have failed,’ Tiaro began, including Ciera in the wave, ‘and now he is here to do the job properly.’

  ‘Over my dead body,’ I growled, speaking out loud for emphasis.

  ‘That’s exactly what he doesn’t want,’ Tiaro said. ‘I think that’s why he’s landed. And that’s why his horse has not disintegrated us already.’

  I stood up from my ineffectual hiding place, the other Anzaii right behind me. Ignice Jabez continued to stare straight at us, snorting its nostrils and curling the back of its mouth in a carnivorous snarl. The pointed yellow teeth in its maw clacked shut less than an arm-length from my face. It reared and screamed, then lowered its head to focus on us once more.

  I looked over to my left to see Tyba staring at us in disbelief. The Bal was engaged with at least eight Tanzan warriors, keeping them all at bay with his unbelievable swordsmanship and magic.

  ‘Do you think Bal Harar knows you have to touch the demon in order to dispel it?’ one of the Anzaii asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Tiaro said. ‘He knows you will step forward to try and defeat it. He will wait until you’re close, then hit you over the head and carry you off.’

  ‘You are right,’ Ciera agreed, getting closer to our position. ‘I have been battling Bals for centuries. They have a gift for thinking ahead. Bal Harar wants to know our plans. He hates to be outwitted.’

  Even though Tanza was more or less defeated, Bal Harar was still bent on gaining the ability to track down all Kriites and kill them. And he would use my wave abilities to do so.

  I forced my hand towards the demon-horse’s nose.

  ‘If it has been instructed not to harm me,’ I began, ‘then perhaps I can touch it without sustaining injury.’

  Though fearful, the other Anzaii sent me their support.

  ‘Do it,’ Ciera said. ‘Try to dispel it. I will be there momentarily. Together we can beat it.’

  ‘Or die trying,’ I thought. That would be better than becoming Bal Harar’s wave-puppet.

  Ignice Jabez stilled as my hand made contact. It shuddered all over, as if battling within itself. The cords of lava lay slick over its neck, dropping shiny orange blobs onto the parapet. The horse’s muzzle was hot to the touch, but it did not burn me. The slick fur felt much like Rekala’s hair after she had been swimming.

  ‘Ready?’ I asked the gathered Anzaii.

  Yes came the instantaneous reply within my mind. I jumped forward, grabbing handfuls of Ignice Jabez’s mane from either side of its head. I brought the face close to mine, forcing it not to use the acid-smoke, lest it kill the prize.

  Dropping from high up in the clouds, Ciera landed on the horse’s back, pushing the enflamed wings away from his soft underside. For long, painful seconds, it felt like we were in two places at once. Ignice Jabez struggled against Ciera’s much greater bulk. Visions of dust and darkness washed over me and the demon-horse was before us, running in circles around a great corral.

  Holding on with all my might, I closed my eyes. The other Anzaii clung to me, hoping that no stray arrows would fly our way and that Bal Harar would remain occupied.

  Chapter Twenty-eight—Contingency Plan

  Within the dusky atmosphere of the spirit realm, the now wingless demon-horse glowed with a brilliant orange light. It was breathtaking at the same time as being repugnant. The senseless squealing and bucking reminded me of breaking-in wild horses back at home. Would this scenario play out in much the same way?

  I moved forward to lay my hands on the wooden beams of the corral. The texture was rough, with thick iron nails holding the rails and posts together. Steeling myself, I climbed over the fence and approached the horse.

  ‘Steady now, steady,’ I said to the horse. Heedless, it continued to run in circles around me, kicking up more and more dust with every pass.

  Whenever I got in its way, it would rear or throw its head, kicking out with its front legs. I rolled away from it and looked around for a rope or harness. There was nothing. The horse bellowed at me, working itself into a lather.

  As I watched it through my wave senses, it occurred to me that beneath the frightening exterior, was a normal, natural horse. Unlike Boiva, this demon had been summoned by just one person. It was loyal to Bal Harar and Bal Harar alone. As such, it had been beyond his ability to summon a complete physical form. It was an inhabitation of a real creature. The size of it and the wings and flames were additions to that body.

  Knowing this, I concluded that our only way of stopping it was to dispossess the demon. Krii had cast out demons many times during his time on Chryne. He had set those people or animals free. All we needed to do was set the horse free.

  ‘Open that gate!’ I shouted to the bewildered Anzaii.

  ‘Ignice Jabez, leave that animal in the name of Krii.’

  The demon-horse turned on me with a ferocious glare in its eye. The other Anzaii opened the gate as the horse reared up before me. The demon, Ignice Jabez, stared out at me from inside the horse’s eyes, but I could tell he was losing control. The fur stood out in jagged ripples and fiery light pulsed from the equine body.

  It heaved and bent its neck down to retch. An ear-splitting crack ricocheted outwards as semi-transparent light burst from the creature. Screaming at us, the fire-demon shot up into the sky and away. The bewildered horse jogged once more around the corral before bolting out.

  A physical blow to the face shocked me back to my real-world senses. Bal Harar’s demon-horse was gone and his attention was fixed on us. The other Anzaii from the strike force moved to defend me, but the Bal grabbed first one and then the other, rending their bodies apart with ease. Blood and gore splattered around us.

  I gagged, reaching for Fyschs in his white scabbard at my side. My Tolite-kin came out into the blustery night, shining with pent-up fury. After all the ranged fighting we had done, it felt strange to finally draw my sword. The eye near the tip of the blade flicked open and two gold teeth emerged on either side.

  The thunder that slapped our turbulent surroundings was soo
n followed by a ripple of lightning. The storm was getting closer.

  ‘Dear Krii, help us,’ I prayed, ‘send rain.’

  ‘Rain will hinder as much as help us at this point,’ Ciera argued. ‘It will dissipate the cloud content of the shrouds around Centan and Condii, revealing exactly what we’re up to with Elonavé.’

  More Zeikas had landed on the parapet. Tyba and his troops ran to engage them before they could reach me. Bal Harar tore apart any humans who strayed too close to him. Those who held back to fire arrows were soon obliterated by his and other Zeikas’ fireballs.

  He won’t want to kill me, I thought. So it’s up to me to engage him. I can save some more lives.

  Overhead, our skyearls could not get close. Swarms of dragons grappled with them, breathing green fire over them, biting with their yellow razor-edge teeth and gouging with their claws. Ciera was struggling against a host of death hawks and dragons.

  Riftweaver danced out of the Bal’s reach, well aware that he could cast a rending spell on her if he managed to touch her. Bal Harar threw a fireball, which she ducked. I moved in from behind, driving Fyschs in a sideswipe that nearly beheaded him.

  The Bal rolled and came to his feet with two swords drawn. These he slashed at me, using manoeuvres I had never been taught by Sarlice. I concentrated on defending myself. Without a shield, it was difficult.

  Each blow that struck Fyschs was like a wooden paling being whacked across the bones of my arms or my shins. Fyschs was a living extension of me, moving faster than conscious thought, reacting in tune with my body’s heightened reflexes.

  Riftweaver, being only A.S. had no weapon-kin to use against the Bal. Her Sleffion-kin, the gold skyearl, was not far away, but was fighting for her life. The Anzaii artefacts Riftweaver and I held enhanced our perceptions, increasing our reaction time and giving us split-second impulses of what the Bal was going to do next. Knowing we could use conjurations against him, the Bal fought us only with swords and fire.