by C. K. Rieke
“Agh!” he yelled. “What in the—?”
Again, another one shot in from behind him and sliced through his thin shirt and left a gash in his leg.
“What are those?” Fewn said, and another shot in and zipped past her, slicing through her arm.
“Birds, some kind of bird—” Dellanor said, and another black-feathered bird zipped past him slicing through his arm.
“Get in close,” Lilaci said, and another flew in. Lilaci saw it out of the corner of her eye and quickly dropped to the sand as it rushed overhead, narrowly fluttering it wings over her ear. She stood and they began to shuffle their feet in towards each other. As they did, the birds cawed all around, like an echo in a cave. Then they began to fly in, two at a time, then more came in, and the Scaethers began to yell in frustration. Slashing their swords and knives through the air frantically, trying to fight them off. Lilaci covered her eyes and face, leaving a slit of light in below her hand as she swiped her sword through the air. Her sword caught one, and it fell to the sand with a thud and twitched for a moment, before it fell limp.
She looked down to inspect the bird which was as black as night, except for a long gray feather at each of its wings, and black eyes? No wait, there are no eyes.
“What are they?” Foro yelled over to her, in the madness of encircling birds. Another bird zipped past him, striking him in the arm.
“No eyes!” Lilaci yelled back. “They’ve got no eyes.” A bird flew past, grazing her pack, and slicing into her shoulder with its sharp claws.
Foro looked over at the bird being quickly buried by the fury of the sandstorm. “No eyes?” Another bird cut into his arm. “Argh!”
The Iox began to moan and howl from behind, and it was quickly overwhelmed by the birds that even landed on her, and began to claw and dig their beaks in, which made the Iox howl even more. More birds flew in to attack her.
Fewn ran over and started to strike at the birds, which were ravenously attacking the Iox.
“Get them off her!” Dellanor yelled and found himself attacked by a handful of the birds himself. “Damned beasts!” he yelled, and more birds came in at him, clawing at him.
Lilaci watched as the Iox began to soak the sand with blood, and Dellanor beginning to be swarmed, as he yelled and cursed into the craziness. She looked around to see the sky darkening more around them. There were countless birds remaining around them, thousands of thousands. Dellanor cursed louder, and more birds came in, but she noticed that Foro, who was standing in silence was bleeding, but not being attacked. Sound— they’re attracted to sound.
“Dellanor!” she yelled. “Don’t make a sound!” Two birds zipped past her, slicing into her leg and shoulder.
Dellanor continued to yell out, and Garenond, who was desperately trying to get the birds off his friend said in a soft voice. “Easy— They’re attracted to your voice. Stop yelling.”
Dellanor’s yelling calmed, but he continued to thrash at the swarm of birds, which began to dissipate back into the storm. Behind him, Lilaci saw that the Iox’s moaning was beginning to wain, and it dropped to its hind knees, it was dying.
Dellanor fell to his side as the birds flew from him. He was littered with cuts and fresh blood.
Foro inched closer to Lilaci. “What do we do? They’re everywhere—”
Lilaci looked around at the swarm and the knew there was no way to move through the encircling birds with their sharp claws. “Maybe there's an alpha? A mother bird?” she whispered, and another bird shot in, which she narrowly evaded.
They both began to scour the area, looking for some sign— anything to get them through the swirling storm. Lilaci peered out through under her shawl, the sands continued to bite at her face, and fresh wounds. We’re not going to survive this, if we don’t do something soon, and I fear for Dellanor and the Iox. We can’t win this battle against such an overwhelming force.
“There,” Foro said, pointing towards the top of the dune above, and behind them.
Lilaci looked up to see a figure on the sand, standing behind the swirling birds. “It’s a man—”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Through the flickering light that shown through the swarm of birds flying around them, Lilaci saw the shadowy figure of a person high up on the dune behind them. She had to shield her eyes from the biting sands that gusted down on them from his direction. Also, having to be careful to not make a sound was difficult, as she stood silently in the sandstorm. The birds seemed to have a keen ability to hear even the rustle of the sand from one of her boots moving, even in the howling storm.
That man is the only chance we have of getting out of this alive. The birds are unrelenting, and seem eager for more fresh blood. We are all going to die if we can’t get to the man. What is he though? Is it a man? Surely there’s no way to run up the hill, as the birds would attack me like a horde. We have no bows or arrows to take him down. Even if I do make it up that far, I’d have to travel through the wall of birds shooting through the air. I’ve only got one option, and it’s a longshot- the Sanzoral. The Sanzoral has got to do something this time, other than moving a single grain of sand.
She looked over and saw the worry on Fewn’s face. Fewn was a strong soldier, although Lilaci wouldn’t admit that aloud. The fact that Fewn and Foro were worried was all the evidence Lilaci needed to know that she was the only chance they had left. There was also the predicament that she didn’t even know if that man in the long robes on the hill was in control of the birds, or just a witness to their mayhem, but killing him would be more plausible than destroying the thousands of birds that encircled them.
A bird shot in at Foro as his boot shifted in the sand, and he swatted it away, but three more came in.
Now. It’s got to be now.
Lilaci closed her eyes and searched out for a feeling, or anything that gave her the strength she needed to save them. But the howling of the storm and the echoing caw of the birds was too distracting, and all she could think of was the peril behind her closed eyes. She doubled down and tried to think of something that was more powerful than the storm around her, some sort of memory that was strong enough to block out all the rest. There was one memory that drifted into her mind. It wasn’t a memory of her meeting the gods, or of her winning her battles in Sorock. It was a memory of a soft, welcoming fabric against her face. It helped to dry the tears of a young girl, scared and alone. Lilaci remembered the stuffed animal they’d given her when she first arrived in Sorock.
She had to let the feelings roll in. The emotions of a young girl, scared and alone filled her mind and heart. The beady eyes of the animal were the only friend or family she had in the world then, and it kept her sane in an otherwise ugly world. The soft fabric caressed her skin, and she buried her head into it as she sobbed. Then, she realized she was thinking of nothing else. The comfort she felt from that thought drowned out all of the chaos around them, and she was free to focus on the sand.
Behind her closed eyes, she could see the sands blowing past, and she could feel its power. She’d never felt anything like that before. This must be partly how the gods feel. To have something so destructive as the sands themselves must make them feel like they can do anything. The winds are blowing the sands directly down the dune onto us, if I can only . . . Just . . . Bend them slightly . . .
She could feel the beads of sweat began to pour down her face. Behind her closed eyes she could not only feel the sands rushing past, but they began to glow a soft purple haze. She felt not the individual grains of sand, but she could identify it as one entity. So instead of focusing on the small pieces of the puzzle, she concentrated on the flow and curves of its entirety. I just need to bend it . . .
In her mind she took the oncoming storm and began to wrap it around itself. The storm rushing down on her began to encircle itself into a winding breeze that formed into a long funnel that stretched down towards it. It was like a long tornado that flowed down the dune and stopped directly in front of her. She could see it’s violet g
low in the black darkness with her eyes closed. Once she felt its presence stop directly in front of her, she opened her eyes.
Before her was a tunnel of blowing sand that blew in a circular pattern, tall enough it blew just over her head. She didn’t hesitate. Now. She dug her feet out of the sand that now reached halfway up her shin, and took her shaw down from over her head, and took off at a full sprint into the tunnel. She caught a look of amazement out of the corner of her eye of Fewn and Foro as she ran into the blowing sands. Birds flew in by the dozens, by the hundreds at her as she ran up the dune. They were quickly blown down into the sands as they tried to pierce its veil, but Lilaci continued her way up the dune unscathed. She drew her sword from its scabbard, its metal rang out in a harmonic tune.
She ran as fast as she could up the dune, and the figure at the top began to show clear. It was an old man of dark skin with a long blond beard. He was dressed in a flowing, tattered red thin robe and he had a black staff in his hand that stood taller than him, and had a nest of black feathers at its tip. A wizard, a sorcerer. I’ve got to make this quick. I can hear the birds coming up the funnel up towards me. I’ve got to close it off, he’s going to figure out a way to get them to me before I can make it. Maybe, I’ve got to close the tunnel off at both ends. Yes, wrap the sands around me, form a shield, transform it into an orb.
The sands shifted and drop in front and behind her, to encompass her in a ring of rushing sands on all sides. She saw the man before her lift his staff and direct it at her. Then the entirety of the swarm of black, blind birds rushed at her. One zipped into the orb and sliced her ankle. Run, Lilaci, run. You won’t get a second chance at this.
“Kill the woman!” the sorcerer’s voice called down the dune with an echo that rippled through the air. “Kill the Scaether, my friends. Put an end to her dark magic!”
Lilaci ran up the dune with the swarm of birds being blown off. She was mere feet from the sorcerer, but the pummeling of her sandshield began to drain her mind, this was all new to her, and the sands began to fade from her control.
The sorcerer drew his staff back to swing it at her as she approached. “Sorceress of the sands, end this madness. I release you from this world!”
As the staff came at her, she stuck her sword through the blowing sand and his staff stopped on it. He gave a look of surprise and confusion in his cold eyes. She drew back her sword and stuck it in the wizard’s stomach.
“How could you—?” he whispered in a raspy voice. “What unnatural speed do you harness?”
The birds began to fade from the onslaught that they battered her sandshield with. They began to drift away back up into the sky.
“I am a weapon of the gods,” she whispered back. “I’m the first to wield the Sanzoral in generations. I am Lilaci the Lazarine.”
The sorcerer drew a long curved dagger up from behind his back and stabbed it towards her throat. She grabbed his wrist and twisted it, breaking the old man’s brittle bones. She took the dagger and thrust it into his heart, blood poured down his red robes.
Lilaci stood as the man slumped down to his side. The birds lifted from the area and flew back into the air, and eventually disappeared behind the tall dune above. She wiped her sword on the man’s robes, the dagger too. She walked back down towards the others as they had already begun to bandage their wounds.
“Is the Iox dead?” she asked Foro, who looked up at her in awe. He didn’t immediately respond.
“The— Iox? Oh yes, she’s gone,” he muttered. “How—? What was . . . I’ve never seen anything like that.”
“Neither have I,” Lilaci said. The Sanzoral, I’ve finally tasted its power. If only Veranor could’ve seen me.
“You’re bleeding,” Fewn said, who walked over with a clean fabric band and began to wipe the blood from Lilaci’s shoulder, then ankle.
“Let’s gather what we can, and be back on our way,” Lilaci said. “We’ve still got long sands to walk.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Half of Dellanor’s body was covered in bandages, blood seeping through many of them. He was up on his feet with the aid of Garenond and Foro, but he’d lost a good amount of blood. Most of the wounds were superficial, but he was in pain and weak. The Iox was left half-buried in the sands. They’d collected what supplies they could carry, and the storm had passed. Dusk was approaching, and even Lilaci was sore, aching, and tired.
They walked between two great dunes on either side and the sun had begun its descent behind the dune to the left, creating a sky full of reds and oranges. They were on a patchy rock that was slightly elevated out of the sands.
“This’ll do for the evening,” Lilaci said.
Dellanor fell to his rear with a sigh of relief. Garenond handed him over the watersack which he drank from in large gulps. Foro went to removing the bandage wrapped around his shoulder, and Dellanor grimaced as the bandages had stuck to it from the dried blood. “Easy boss,” he said.
“What was that thing back there?” Fewn asked, as she pulled the pack of supplies from her back and let them fall to the rock with a thud. “A sorcerer this far out into the sands? And why’d he attack us?”
Garenond had gone to the center of the rock and had begun to set out gathered twigs along their walk to start a fire. “I’m not sure. I’ve never heard of anything like him before. Not sure why he even wanted to attack us, but we were almost his prey. That’s until Lilaci . . .” He looked up and gave her a nod of approval, she nodded back as she pulled her shawl down from over her head and dropped her supplies.
Dellanor gasped again from Foro removing his bandages. “He was one of the Reevins.”
“The Reevins?” Fewn asked. “What the hell is that?”
“Cannibals they are,” Dellanor said. “They don’t come this far north though. Not sure what he was doing up here.”
“Cannibals?” Lilaci asked, in surprise.
“Aye,” Garenond said. “I’ve heard of them buggers. Never seen one until this day though. Nearly had us for supper, son of a bitch.”
“The Reevins are sorcerers?” Fewn asked.
“Not sure,” Dellanor said. “The Reevins are a tribe in the south. They usually stick close to the sea, or the gulf. Not many left, at least, I haven’t heard of any in a long time. They supposedly believe they consume the soul and powers of their prey—” Once he said that he looked slowly up at Lilaci.
“You’re saying they came after us because of me?” she said. He didn’t respond.
“Well, either way,” Foro said. “She’s the one who slew the old man.”
“You ever done anything like that before?” Fewn asked.
“No,” Lilaci replied. “That was the first time.”
“Well,” Garenond said. “Couldn’t have been a better first time!” he laughed. “I think it’d be a good night for some swill. What’da ya say Dellanor?” Dellanor nodded hastily, his face in visible pain.
Garenond pulled the watersack full of the strong smelling alcohol from his pack and poured a mouthful into Dellanor’s mouth. It rolled down both sides of his mouth as he struggled to swallow the swill.
Fewn walked over toward Lilaci and gently grabbed her by the arm, leading them away from the others. Lilaci went willingly with her, although she was still slightly apprehensive about Fewn’s intentions. Once they were at the edge of the rock, and faced the setting sun Fewn turned and stood to face her. She stood only a few inches shorter than Lilaci, and her face was littered with sand and dirt.
“We should leave him,” she said. “He’ll only slow us down. The mission is too important.”
“You may be right,” Lilaci said. “But I wouldn’t leave him alone. One would have to stay back with him. Help him get back to the Great Oasis.”
“Screw that,” Fewn said. “Foro and Garenond are capable, and experienced. Dellanor’s incompetence got himself hurt.”
“It just as easily could’ve been you,” Lilaci said.
Fewn scowled. “Listen, I ap
preciate you helping us out, but I would’ve killed the old man if you wouldn’t have.”
“Yeah? How?” Lilaci asked. There’s no way even I could’ve made it through that storm of blind birds without my powers.
“You don’t have to be so cruel,” Fewn said.
Lilaci was growing impatient with Fewn’s fickleness, but nevertheless conceded. “I’m sure you would have figured out a way to slay the sorcerer.”
Fewn smugly turned back to look at her. “Yes, I would have. But I’m glad I didn’t have to figure out how. That really was something, you know. I don’t know if you could see or sense it, but when you were standing there, in the middle of the frenzy of circling birds, you had wisps of purple smoke floating around you just before the blowing sands shifted and created that path for you.”
“Purple smoke?” Lilaci said. “No, I didn’t know that. I saw it in my ‘vision’, but I didn’t know it was real.”
Foro walked up cautiously to the two. Lilaci turned to meet his gaze. “What’re you two doing over here?”
Fewn didn’t reply.
“You want to leave him, don’t you?” Foro said.
“Is there another option?” Lilaci said.
“Well—” Foro said, lowering his head. “Truth be told, he wouldn’t make it too much further under the hot sun, albeit tomorrow or the next day. He needs rest, and he needs more fluids than just swill, and sparse amounts of water. But he’s not staying out here by hisself to die. I can tell you that much.”
“That was not one of the options,” Lilaci said. “Listen, Foro, I may be in charge, but he’s your man. I’ll let you decide what’s best for him, and for the mission.”
“Alright,” he said. “Give me ‘til the morning to figure something out. If that’ll do.”
“That’ll do,” she said, and he turned back around to join the others.
“You’re too soft on him,” Fewn said.
“What would you have me do? Order him to leave his friend to rot under the sun until some other creature comes to finish the job? Or let the buzzards pick his bones clean once he’s succumbed to thirst?”