by Luke Scull
Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t—
‘Look, Sash!’ Such was the excitement in Cole’s voice that Sasha’s eyes involuntarily flew open. Through the window at the craft’s anterior she could see tiny figures far below, growing smaller and smaller as the Seeker rose into the sky.
‘Carn looks a lot smaller from up here,’ Kayne quipped. The chieftain of the West Reaching had stayed behind to supervise the great camp of Highlanders north of Westrock. More Highlanders were pouring in by the day, many hurt and in need of aid. Brandwyn could have handled the logistical side of things, but the Bloodfist had reluctantly chosen to remain in case the truce with the Fade went south. He was their best choice to lead the Highlanders into a possible war. Sasha thought Kayne a likely candidate but, much to her surprise, it seemed he was not particularly loved by his countrymen.
‘Brace yourselves,’ warned Ariel from her seat near the cockpit.
The engines suddenly roared and Sasha’s stomach twisted into knots as the ship leaped forward. Her body was forced back against the chair, her ears pressed flat against her head. Everyone else looked similarly discomfited. All except the White Lady’s handmaiden, who might have been relaxing in a quiet meadow.
‘What’s the hell’s happening?’ Sasha tried to ask, but the words came out as little more than an unintelligible moan. Moments later the pressure eased. She took a deep breath, trying desperately not to vomit and reveal herself to be the weak link in the formidable collection of individuals assembled on this mission; the one with little fighting skill and no magic to speak of.
The girl.
She needn’t have worried. In the seat next to her, Cole leaned forward, his face a peculiar shade of green. He gave her a queasy grin and then promptly puked all over her lap.
*
Once she got used to the roar of the engines and the dulling effect the altitude had upon her hearing, Sasha found travelling aboard the Seeker to be surprisingly pleasant. Eventually she summoned the nerve to wander up to the cockpit and stare out through the glass, marvelling at the wispy clouds passing by. She could see a winding river below. The sun, which was just to her left, made it glisten like blood.
‘So, this is what it feels like to be a bird,’ she said, filled with wonder. She turned to Thanates. ‘Can you see?’ she asked him. ‘When you take the form of your familiar, the crow. Can you see?’
‘I have. a memory of sight,’ the wizard replied. ‘But when I return to my true form I remember little.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘Tell me, child. Have you ever had something that you treasured torn from you? Sometimes, when you sleep, you think you have it back. But it is merely an illusion.’
‘Yes,’ she said, after giving it some thought. ‘My sister.’
Isaac was frowning out of the window as if troubled. Sasha hesitated, then turned to the Adjudicator. ‘You told your prince you may have made a mistake. What changed your mind?’
‘A friend.’
Sasha was suddenly overcome by a great sadness. ‘A friend?’
It’s him, she realized. These are his emotions. He’s sharing them with me. What did he call it? Empathetic projection?
‘Yes. A friend I fear I am going to break. Worse than break. Shatter.’
They watched the clouds pass in silence. Brodar Kayne came to join them. His blue eyes were wide in disbelief as he stared at the winding river below. ‘That’s got to be the River of Swords. Took me and the Wolf weeks to reach its banks after we left the Trine.’
Next to Kayne, Jerek stared down out of the window with an uncertainty Sasha had never before seen in the taciturn warrior. She looked from one man to the other and felt a deep sense of sadness for the pair. All that they must have been through, making the journey from their homeland not once, not twice, but three times. All the hardships they had endured. And here they were, making the same journey in the space of a day, from the safety of a flying ship. Magic was one thing; everyone knew wizards could bend reality, but they were few and far between and often so outlandish they almost seemed to live in a different world entirely. The Fade, on the other hand, made the miraculous seem normal, the exceptional seem mundane. She wondered if that diminished men like Brodar Kayne and Jerek the Wolf; shattered their understanding of who they were.
The Seeker flew over the river and Ariel veered the craft slightly to the right. Ahead of them rose rolling hills of a striking violet colour that contrasted stunningly with the red landscape of the Badlands to the south.
‘The Purple Hills,’ Jerek rasped.
‘They’re beautiful,’ Sasha exclaimed. She hadn’t realized the world could look so spectacular from up above. All the darkness, all the ugliness that seemed to thrive around her seemed to disappear as she stared down.
She had an idea then. She concentrated, willed her eyes to see as far as they could go. She heard the whirring in her skull – and then she seemed to plummet towards the earth. The feeling was so exhilarating she couldn’t help but laugh in delight. The hills grew larger until she could make out the individual flowers blanketing them, the flowers that gave the hills their name.
‘Dahlias,’ she said. Spring held the world in its nurturing grip and for that brief moment she was truly alive, truly happy, fulfilled in a way that, previously, only haskha had ever managed to achieve.
‘I see you are getting the hang of your eye augmentations,’ Isaac observed. ‘I am curious to know what other implants you possess.’
‘I’d rather keep my skull intact,’ Sasha replied wryly. She turned her head, intending to call Cole over, then suddenly spotted a town to the east. ‘There’s a settlement over there,’ she said. ‘It looks like a city of tents.’
‘The Bandit King’s town,’ Kayne said darkly. He appeared to remember something then and turned to the dark-skinned Fade piloting the Seeker. ‘Best fly carefully,’ he said. ‘There’s something out there—’
A monstrous snout suddenly filled Sasha’s vision. It shifted until a great yellow orb was staring right back at her, a dark slit running vertically though the centre.
An eye, she realized, in utter horror. It regarded her with a sinister intensity. Then it blinked.
She jerked back, accidentally headbutting Jerek in the mouth, blinking her own eyes until her vision returned to normal. The Wolf began to rage at her, but she ignored him. ‘Turn around!’ she screamed at Ariel.
The Fade frowned at her. ‘This is the shortest route to the Devil’s Spine.’
‘You don’t understand,’ Sasha cried. ‘It’s huge!’
‘What is?’ demanded Ariel, clearly irritated now. Jerek’s foul-mouthed tirade wasn’t helping matters much and it didn’t seem like he would be letting up any time soon – but just then Isaac pointed.
‘That. Pilgrims help us. A dragon.’
Sasha was flung across the deck as the craft suddenly veered left. She climbed back to her feet, ignoring Cole’s questions. She glanced back out through the glass and saw the dragon in its full, terrible glory. The behemoth was green and scaled and possessed a sinuous neck, at the end of which was a reptilian head filled with teeth. Its tail alone must have been the length of the Seeker. The monster beat its gargantuan wings furiously. Somehow, terrifyingly, it was gaining on them.
‘How fast is that fucker?’ Jerek snarled, having finally run out of curses to hurl at Sasha.
‘Faster than we are,’ Isaac said, his musical voice discordant with dread. ‘Dragons haven’t been seen in Rhûn for thousands of years. We drove them off shortly after we arrived in these lands. That specimen is a huge example. It is ancient. Perhaps even older than Obrahim himself.’
‘Can we kill it?’ Kayne asked.
Isaac shook his head. ‘The Seeker has no weaponry to speak of. Its purpose is to transport, not to fight.’
Suddenly the dragon began to gain altitude, disappearing into the clouds above.
The sorceress – Rana – stared around wildly. She had said little up un
til now, but the fear on her face told its own story. ‘Where did it go?’
There was a tremendous roar and the craft shuddered as if struck. Fire crawled down the glass above the cockpit. The air became uncomfortably hot and Sasha gasped and choked. She stumbled towards the rear of the craft where it was a little cooler.
The Seeker shook again and this time the impact was enough to knock her off of her feet. There came the sound of grinding metal from above and the tip of a massive talon punched a small hole in the top of the craft. Cold air immediately screamed through the gap. I’m going to die, she thought in utter panic. I’m going to die.
Cole wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close to him. ‘I’ve got you,’ he said. ‘Hold onto me.’
And though a part of Sasha wanted to yell at Cole, to scold him for treating her like a child, she held on.
Thanates suddenly stood up. The wizard-king of Dalashra straightened his coat and stared at the gap above, through which freezing air was whistling a mournful tune. ‘Make for the Spine with all haste,’ he growled. ‘I will join you later, if I survive.’
‘Wait—’ Cole began, but the mage ignored him. Black fire wreathing his body, Thanates began to shrink, sprouting feathers, nose lengthening to become a beak. Seconds later he had fully assumed his crow form. He hovered unsteadily for a moment and then the bird that was Thanates cawed once and rose towards the gap in the craft, disappearing in a flutter of dark feathers.
‘Bring her down closer to the ground,’ Isaac ordered. ‘We’re losing pressure.’ Ariel adjusted the controls and the Seeker began to descend. Above the whistle of air being sucked into the craft, Sasha could hear the furious roars of the dragon, answered by the thundering sound of magic being unleashed.
Sasha huddled into Cole and attempted to block out the horror of what was happening. Though she no longer needed a hit with the same intensity as before, at times like this she nonetheless longed for a pile of haskha to take the edge off her terror.
‘What now?’ Kayne grunted from where he sat beside Rana and Jerek. The Wolf spat out a mouthful of blood and glared at Sasha. The White Lady’s handmaiden was watching the gap through which Thanates had disappeared. She seemed unmoved by the danger they were in.
‘Now we get as close to our destination as possible before our air runs out,’ Isaac replied. ‘Assuming the dragon doesn’t return before then.’
‘Things can’t possibly get any worse,’ Cole groaned.
Ariel turned her head to glance back at him. The expression on the pilot’s face was unreadable, but if a Fade could manage droll, Cole thought she achieved it just then. ‘Don’t get too comfortable,’ she said. ‘The damage to the body of the craft is serious. We’re going down.’
‘Shit.’
Isaac smiled, perhaps enjoying Cole’s discomfort. ‘Ariel’s sense of humour is legendary in our homeland. While it is true that we are descending, it is a gradual process and we are already nearing the Fangs. I dare say we’ve made it through the worst of this journey. What was it I once said? You are survivors. With luck, you might even survive the Herald.’
Somehow that didn’t make Sasha feel any better.
Echoes of the Past
✥
‘BRODAR KAYNE TOOK a hesitant step and winced. His ankles hurt, his knees hurt – for some reason even his arse hurt, but he would be damned if he was going to ask any of the grim-faced men and women who had just stepped off the Seeker to check it for bruises. Everyone was too busy nursing their own pains, physical or otherwise.
The flight over Mal-Torrad and the relentless descent over the southern mountains had been dicey. The landing had been even worse. There was something to be said for horseback, Kayne reckoned – chief of which was the general absence of random attacks from giant, fire-breathing lizards. Neither Thanates nor the dragon had yet reappeared.
The Wolf kicked at a pile of rubble and swore. He was even more pissed off than usual, which was to say very pissed off indeed. The others were similarly glum. Ahead of the small party loomed Watcher’s Keep – the great citadel in which Kayne had spent most of his twenties. The Seeker had given up the ghost barely a mile from the last bastion of the Highland people.
Or at least, it had been the last bastion. Now it lay in ruins.
Their grim little company made its way through training yards littered with corpses. Training yards Kayne had once sparred on, practising his swordplay for the day he would join his brothers in the defence of their nation. Now that nation was broken, overrun by the same fiends that had massacred the citadel.
Rana stared at the carnage in horror. ‘My nephew was supposed to travel here to become a Warden,’ she said. ‘Krazka killed him. Perhaps it was a small mercy.’
They passed the corpse of a young man. His head was twenty feet from his body, mashed into one of the citadel walls. The sight was downright gruesome and Rana went white, then turned away to heave. Kayne waited until she had recovered and placed a hand on her shoulder. He had just intended to offer some comfort, but she flinched back. Shame filled him.
She sees a killer, he realized. A monster no better than a demon. He turned away and spotted the place on the walls where he and Mhaira had stood together to be wed by old Rastagar. He remembered the dazzling smile on her face when he’d first set eyes on her being walked down the aisle, her blue gown making her look like a Lowland princess rather than a simple shepherd’s daughter.
He sat down on a broken column and massaged his temples with callused fingers, trying to dislodge the lump in his throat. Sasha came over to sit beside him. ‘Everything okay?’ she asked.
‘Aye.’ He coughed, trying to disguise the crack in his voice.
Sasha frowned at him. She looked a good deal different than she had months back, her pretty brown hair shorn right off and her skin blotchy and grey, with dark shadows under her eyes. Nevertheless, she gave him the same disapproving stare she had back in Farrowgate and the memory of it made him smile despite everything. ‘I’m here if you need to talk,’ she said simply.
‘Appreciate it,’ Kayne said, climbing to his feet. ‘But I’m all right.’
Sasha rolled her eyes and, strangely, Kayne thought he heard a clicking noise.
Jerek was examining the corpses. Most bore terrible wounds: bodies had been torn apart by oversized teeth and claws, and in some cases pincers. Davarus Cole wandered over and began poking around a body near to Jerek, a grim expression on his face.
The Wolf scowled at him. ‘Best do that somewhere over there. Don’t want you spilling your guts all over my boots.’
Cole stiffened and glared at Jerek with eyes the colour of steel. Just like Magnar’s eyes. ‘It was something I ate!’ he shot back. He looked around, his gaze settling on the most gruesome corpse in the yard. It was bloated and purple, infected with some kind of demonic poison. Cole strolled across to the corpse and grabbed hold of its feet. ‘Let’s have a look at you then,’ he said brightly, giving the legs a good tug, intending to turn the body over. Instead it split apart at the waist. The legs came away in his hands and putrid blood poured out, smelling vile even from where Kayne was standing.
Cole blinked a few times, keeping his face carefully expressionless. ‘Just as I thought,’ he said neutrally. ‘Demons killed him. Excuse me.’ He hurried off, disappearing behind a nearby tower.
Kayne sighed, then ambled over to Jerek. ‘How long they been dead?’ he asked.
‘Couple of weeks,’ the Wolf replied. ‘Reckon the demons have all moved further inland. Might be quieter than we anticipated in the Borderland.’
‘I hope you’re right.’
Cole reappeared, making a show of adjusting his belt as though he’d just gone for a piss but fooling no one. The others came to join them.
‘I wonder how Thanates fares,’ Isaac said. ‘There is nothing more dangerous in the world than a great wyrm. Nothing except perhaps for Saverian.’
Without warning, a bell tolled. Kayne looked to the east, where the
tallest tower in Watcher’s Keep loomed over the buildings and training yards. Once, the Shaman had perched upon the clock tower in raven form, watching Kayne getting wed. The grizzled Highlander gave a rueful shake of his head. This place held memories enough to keep his old brain reminiscing all night if he let it, but they had a task to carry out.
‘I hear something,’ Jerek rasped. ‘Bats. Hundreds of ’em.’
Kayne listened. He too could hear it – a great susurration, as of many small wings beating.
‘There,’ Cole said, pointing to a swarm of creatures flying in their direction. He turned to Sasha and grinned. ‘Hope you don’t mind a little guano on your head.’
As the swarm got closer, though, Kayne saw that something was terribly wrong.
‘Are those... flying heads?’ Rana gasped, horrified. Kayne’s poor vision began to make out details: rotten eyes, desiccated cheeks, sharp fangs crowding gnashing mouths.
‘Those ain’t no bats,’ Kayne said darkly. ‘They’re demons.’
There was a bang next to him, and one of the heads exploded in a splash of gore. Isaac had his hand-cannon raised – a similar weapon to the one with which Krazka had threatened to blow Kayne’s brains out before Rana had stopped him. The barrel smoked gently.
Rana pointed a finger. Lightning burst from the outstretched digit, striking one demon and then another, disintegrating their wings and leaving their blackened heads to tumble to the ground. One of the demons reached the White Lady’s handmaiden and clamped its teeth down on her arm, gnawing at her pale flesh. The Unborn calmly reached across with her other hand and squeezed, crushing its skull beneath her fingers.
‘There’s too many,’ Cole said. ‘We’ll be eaten alive.’
Kayne cleaved in half the first of the heads that reached him, then spun and kicked another into a wall, where it connected with a satisfying crunch. He saw a familiar building and dashed towards it. ‘Inside the barracks!’ he shouted. The door was already slightly ajar and he kicked it open, nostrils filling with the stench of recent death. Jerek came through after him, followed by Isaac, Cole, Sasha and finally Rana, a shield of blue magic raised before her.