by Luke Scull
Hundreds of bones rose up from the ground, forming a massive chain composed of thighbones and ribs and giant vertebrae all held together by magic. The chain coiled like a snake and then wrapped itself around the demon lord, holding the Herald fast, binding its wings to its body.
‘Now,’ Isaac thundered. The command in the immortal’s voice cut through the demon-fear, and Sasha found her legs moving, carrying her towards the Herald. Jerek was ahead of her, axes in his hands, Cole beside him. Together they scrambled over the sea of bones. Isaac and Cole skipped nimbly across the shifting surface; the others had a tougher time of it, stumbling and sliding.
The Herald thrashed, trying to free itself from the gargantuan chain. Its snakelike tail lashed out, pulverizing bone, sending up great clouds of white dust. Its grotesque maw opened wide, revealing teeth like daggers, but the demon lord made no sound. At least, no sound audible to the ears. Sasha somehow had the sense of a thousand sibilant voices screaming deep within her skull.
The crack of Isaac’s hand-cannon echoed time and again. The Herald’s body twitched, ichor spraying from the holes that appeared in its hide. The Fade Adjudicator was the first to reach the demon, jumping and spinning through the air, crystal blade shearing through midnight scales. Cole and Jerek reached it next, Cole’s dagger plunging into the Herald’s taloned legs, Jerek attacking the opposite side, the two working surprisingly well in tandem.
Sasha suddenly slipped on the uneven surface and skidded, landing painfully on her knees. She rose and was reaching into the quiver on her back for a bolt, preparing to cock her crossbow, when the Herald’s triumvirate of burning eyes met her own. Terror overwhelmed her once again. The crossbow fell uselessly from her nerveless fingers and she sank back to her knees, sobs racking her body.
*
The damn thing’ll be dead before I reach it at this rate, Kayne thought, pounding across the pit of bones. Deep down he knew his optimism was misplaced. For all that Isaac together with the Wolf and young Cole were laying into the fiend, he reckoned it would take more than sharpened steel or even crystal to down a demon lord.
He passed Sasha, who was overcome by demon-fear, brown eyes wide in panic and body shaking like a leaf. It couldn’t be helped. He plunged on, knees creaking, heart thundering like hell. He was almost at the demon when its tail whipped out, catching Isaac and Jerek glancing blows and sending them sprawling. With a mighty flexing of its knotted muscles, the Herald shattered the chain of bone restraining it into a thousand pieces.
‘Shit,’ Kayne whispered.
He heard fighting behind him, turned to see Rana and Thanates beset by a pair of demon knights. The armoured fiends had likely climbed out of the pit that had just appeared nearby, an evil green glow leaking out of the hole to bathe the combatants in a baleful radiance. Evidently the spell the wizards had cast to bind the Herald had been disrupted by the appearance of the demons.
Kayne wavered, torn between joining the attack on the Herald and going back to help Thanates and Rana. The demon lord took a mighty step towards Isaac and the Wolf, both of whom lay stunned. Much to Kayne’s surprise, Davarus Cole was suddenly scaling the demon’s back, his dagger plunging into it again and again while the Herald tried to shake him off.
Rana’s agonized scream made up his mind for him. He turned and sprinted back across the bones, reaching the fallen sorceress just as the demon knight towering over her was preparing to crush her skull. Thanates was locked in mortal combat with the other knight, wielding a staff of black fire, parrying the demon’s monstrous flail with surprising skill.
Kayne blocked the demon knight’s overhead swing, his arms screaming with the effort. They exchanged blows, the old warrior rocking back with every punishing parry of the demon’s weapon. Rana shifted slightly and Kayne saw that she bore a deep wound in her shoulder, blood leaking out to soak her robes. Nonetheless, she somehow raised a finger and pointed it at the demon. Lightning crackled from her extended digit, striking the fiend. It jerked and smoke drifted from its visor, behind which two crimson pinpoints flared in malignant fury.
The demon knight might have been finished or it might not. Either way Kayne wasn’t taking any chances. He recalled Jerek, near the Demonfire Hills, clutching the decapitated head of one of the fiends, and knew what he had to do. Between the helmet and the breastplate he spotted the gap. He lined up his greatsword, swung, and decapitated the demon in a single stroke. The killing blow was inch-perfect, despite the weakness in his arms.
He reached down, intending to help Rana up. Suddenly a sibilant sound exploded in his skull.
Sword of the North.
Kayne blinked, nausea rising in his gut. It was as though a score of voices assailed him all at the same time.
You are dying, Sword of the North. I hear your heart groaning. The end draws near for you.
‘What do you want?’ he rasped, trying to catch his breath. The pain in his chest was growing worse.
I can offer you life. You are a killer. Nothing less and nothing more. Do not sacrifice yourself. Not for them.
‘Get out of my head,’ Kayne whispered.
The Herald’s words seemed to expose his inner fears, stroked at his doubts – those hidden and those not so hidden. The sorceress hates you. Your own people hate you. You have nothing. No place in this world. Join with me. Accept my master’s blessings and make a place. Embrace your true nature, Sword of the North.
Brodar Kayne hesitated. Rana stared up at him, reaching weakly for his hand.
He made no move to help her.
*
Kill it. Kill it, child.
The Reaver’s voice pounded in his skull and Cole lunged again, driving Magebane into the fiend’s scaled body, revelling in the life force that flooded through him. For a moment the fear that had gripped him had threatened to squeeze the life from him, but then the god had spoken. Its divine command had cut through his paralysis like a hot knife cutting through butter. Like a magical dagger cutting through a demon’s hide.
He saw Sasha on her knees, face pale with terror, but whatever feelings Davarus Cole might have towards the girl who had scorned him were lost in the wild bloodlust of a dead god’s fury. He grinned as another deep thrust sent warm ichor splashing over his cheek. Once he was finished with the demon, he would end her life, too. And the lives of the others. A cacophony of sibilant voices tried to plead with him, tried to bargain with him, but they were overridden by the endless booming refrain of the god within him.
The Reaver felt no pity.
*
Thanates had his back to Kayne. It would be no effort at all to strike down the wizard-king of Dalashra while he was occupied with the demon knight. Kayne was the Sword of the North, and he saw death in every possibility.
Kill her, came the voice of the demon lord. Kill her and then kill the Dalashran. None will judge you when the Legion has scoured the land. You are a weapon, and a weapon has only one purpose. To kill. Serve your purpose.
He raised his greatsword, angled the edge towards Rana’s neck. She met his eyes, not comprehending.
Her stare reminded him of a look Mhaira had given him once. When she was in the worst throes of her sickness and he thought he would lose her. He remembered the moment when the storm broke and familiarity dawned in her gaze. Her smile, drawing him back from the brink of despair.
‘I’m not a weapon,’ Kayne grated. ‘I’m a man.’ He pulled Rana up gently and put a hand around her waist to stop her falling. Thanates had plunged his black-fire staff through the visor of the demon knight. It was kneeling now before the mage, armoured body sagging, slowly dying.
Kayne turned to face the Herald just as the demon lord succeeded in dislodging Davarus Cole, who was wreathed in shadow, looking half demon himself. The boy fell near twenty feet, struck the bone pit at an awkward angle and went still. The Herald raised a mighty foot and prepared to crush its helpless opponent.
*
Sasha huddled on the ground, unable to move. Unable to d
o anything except sob uncontrollably, so overcome with dread she could barely think. She glimpsed Isaac and Jerek being flattened by the Herald’s flailing tail, saw Cole somehow scramble up the demon’s back and stab it repeatedly, lost to the unnatural fury driving him, as terrifying in his own way as the fiend whose shoulders he straddled.
You’re worthless, said a tiny voice inside her. The others fight, while you cower. You’re nothing. Nobody. They’re heroes. You? You’re just the girl.
Suddenly, Cole was hurled to the ground. He hit it hard enough to kill any other man, and though the shadows that wreathed him softened his fall somewhat, he lay still, winded. The Herald’s trio of burning eyes fixed on her fallen friend. The demon lord raised a massive, taloned foot. In seconds Cole would be crushed to a bloody pulp. Isaac and Jerek were still shaking off the effects of the Herald’s lashing tail. There was no one else to help him.
Sasha scrambled to her feet, a deeper terror than that which paralysed her spurring her into action. In desperation, she sought out the only weapon she could possibly use against the colossal demon. The effort of moving it with her telekinesis caused her to scream and a moment later she blacked out.
*
The Herald staggered back. As Kayne watched, the gigantic jawbone of a whale rose from the ground nearby and launched itself like a spear, piercing the demon’s chest, going right through to emerge from the other side. Sasha staggered and fell, blood pouring from her nose.
Grievously wounded, the Herald beat its gigantic wings, seeking to escape. Thanates turned from the demon knight and hurled his staff of black fire at the ailing demon lord. It struck the fiend, scorching its flesh and – more damaging for it – ruining its leathery wings. The demon plunged back to the ground and in an instant Isaac and Jerek were upon it, crystal sword and steel axe dealing wound after wound. In what appeared to be a last desperate gambit, the Herald fixed Jerek with its trio of sinister eyes, seeking to hypnotize the Wolf with its ruinous gaze. Seeking to bend him to its will like it had attempted to bend Kayne. Its greatest mistake.
The Wolf split the fiend’s face in half with a snarl.
It took a minute or two for the demon lord to perish. For its thrashing to eventually cease and its massive body to settle on the bones of the countless creatures it had killed over centuries of ruthless slaughter.
Kayne watched the Herald’s death throes, attempting to catch his breath. Once he was somewhat recovered, he left Rana with Thanates and went to check on the others. Sasha was helping a shaky Davarus Cole back to his feet. The girl’s nose dripped blood and dark veins stood out on her face. Cole looked to be in some pain but had no visible injuries. Jerek glared at the boy and then, unexpectedly, gave him a small nod. Davarus Cole perked up immediately, his chest visibly swelling.
‘We did it,’ Kayne rasped, scarcely believing his own words. ‘We killed the bastard.’
Not only that, they’d slain the Herald without taking a single loss. The only one of the party in any real danger was Rana. ‘Can you heal her?’ Kayne asked Thanates.
The wizard gave a grim shake of his head. ‘Restorative magic is not my domain.’
‘Let me take a look at her.’ Isaac inspected Rana’s wound. It looked deep, but at least the flow of blood had slowed. ‘She will survive until we make it out of this valley,’ he announced. He paused to look each of them in the eye. ‘You’ve done a remarkable thing this day,’ he proclaimed. ‘I will confess that I had my doubts—’
He was interrupted as a gaping pit suddenly appeared behind him. Another hole appeared beside Kayne, and a third opposite Davarus Cole. The earth beneath their feet began to fracture, tearing apart, green radiance spilling out.
‘What’s happening?’ Sasha asked. She sounded dazed and confused, the effort of spearing the Herald with the whale’s jawbone having exhausted her utterly.
Isaac looked concerned. ‘The Herald’s death has broken the connection between this world and the realm of the Nameless. The rift beneath the Devil’s Spine is beginning to collapse in on itself.’
‘What does that mean?’ Cole asked.
‘It means we should get the fuck out of here,’ growled the Wolf. He was already stalking back the way they had come.
Isaac sheathed his weapons and turned to follow Jerek. ‘What he said,’ the Fade called back.
*
The escape from the valley was more hellish than any of the companions could have imagined. The world was literally collapsing around them, gaping holes appearing in the ground without warning, hundreds of tons of stone breaking and falling into an abyss in which dwelled the darkest of nightmares.
If there were any positives to be taken, Kayne thought as his abused knees screamed in protest, it was that no more demons climbed up out of the tunnels to add to their woes.
They were almost to the edge of the valley, preparing to begin their ascent, when a vast chasm opened right in front of them. Isaac stumbled, his legs giving way beneath the collapsing rock. He flailed wildly for a second, and then the earth started to swallow him. For the first time Brodar Kayne saw utter terror in the otherworldly gaze of the immortal.
Isaac would have been doomed were it not for Jerek’s lightning reflexes. The Wolf sprang forward and grabbed one of the Fade’s slender arms, his muscles bulging with the strain. Jaw clenched, Jerek dragged Isaac up and away from the hole.
The Fade stared down into the depths, his obsidian eyes wide in shock. He turned back to Jerek, began to offer his thanks, but the Wolf merely spat and turned away. ‘I told you I got your back,’ he grated. ‘A man says a thing, a man does a fucking thing.’
They began the long climb out of the valley. Rana leaned on Thanates, the blind wizard and the wounded sorceress doing their best to support each other. Davarus Cole and Sasha were just ahead of Kayne. They still hadn’t said a word to each other. Whatever had gone on between them had seemingly formed a rift as deep as the abyssal holes tearing apart the valley below.
As they dragged themselves up a particularly steep incline, the numbness Kayne had been feeling in his arms for weeks returned with a vengeance. He slipped off the rock he had hold of and landed painfully. He rose shakily, his body bruised and cut – but the pain of those minor scrapes was as nothing compared to the sudden, intense cramping in his chest. Cole slid down the incline, concern for Kayne plastered all over his face, and the old warrior forced himself to smile, to make light of the situation. ‘Getting too old for this shit,’ he tried to say –but a spasm sent him stumbling to his knees instead.
‘What’s wrong with him?’ someone shouted. Kayne could hardly hear over the pounding in his ears. His throat seized up. He tried to breathe, but every inhalation was burning agony.
‘It’s his heart,’ someone shouted. The world went dark.
‘Kayne,’ rasped Jerek beside him. ‘Where the fuck’s the Seeker?’
He tried to open his eyes, but they were heavier than sin.
The last thing he remembered was being lifted up into the air, a great roaring sound filling his ears.
SUMMER
✥
New Beginnings
✥
THE SUN WAS finally setting in the west, delivering a blessed relief from the early summer heat. The vast Highlander encampment stretched out on the plains below as far as Davarus Cole could see, though the campfires had remained unlit now for many weeks. If everything went as hoped, soon the monumental gathering of mountain folk would pack up their tents and abandon the temporary refuge, moving west and east and north and south to settle in the Trine and its surrounding area. The Year of Upheaval, as the scribes had begun to refer to the events of the last twelve months, had wrought immense changes in the region. Magelords had been toppled; cities destroyed; entire peoples displaced. An ancient master race had returned to the continent bringing ultimate judgement, and it was this last concern that had brought Cole here, to Westrock.
He turned to face the town, and took a deep breath. Everything depended on
the outcome of the meeting that was about to take place. Isaac had delivered his report to the Fade prince weeks ago. According to the Adjudicator, Obrahim was inclined to grant humanity mercy. Davarus Cole had learned the hard way that assumptions tended to be the seeds of disaster, however. If the answer wasn’t the one they anticipated, Carn Bloodfist and the White Lady of Thelassa had already made preparations for war.
Thanates was waiting for him halfway down the dirt road that led into town. Even now he could hear the Seeker’s engines throbbing. It still struck him as a little absurd that such an inconsequential place should play host to such momentous events – a visitation that would likely decide humanity’s fate. The Fade prince ought to be delivering his final judgement in some exotic locale on the very edge of the world, as befitted the occasion. Not the boil on the arse of the Trine that was Westrock.
This is no fairy tale, he reminded himself. This is real life. He himself was living proof that the Pattern the Creator wove cared not for any sense of decorum. He’d returned from the Devil’s Spine a hero, and yet here he was, slowly dying, withering away under the Reaver’s curse. To add to the injustice, the girl he loved had broken his heart. He’d once thought that accomplishing great deeds would be enough to make him happy; make him the man he’d always dreamed of being. But it seemed that life was more complicated than that. The news about the impending marriage between the young bandit and the pretty Highland sorceress hadn’t exactly boosted his spirits. It wasn’t their fault, but to Cole it felt like yet more salt rubbed into his wounds.
‘Davarus Cole,’ Thanates greeted him. At least the wizard-king of Dalashra had stopped referring to him as ‘child of murder’. ‘Are you ready?’