by Tony Donadio
Dazed with exhaustion, the King released the power of the ring. The remnants of his fiery armor vanished, and he sagged, the Queen still held in the crook of his arm. Guardian fell from his hand to clatter on the floor. Gerard raced to their side and embraced them fiercely.
“Your majesties …” a voice said tentatively.
Gerard looked up. Lord Rugon stood unsteadily on his feet before them. Blood flowed along one side of his face from a gash on his head. His shirt was wet from another wound in his side.
He carried the severed head of Aron Killraven. Tears streaming down his face, he slowly dropped to his knees, and set it with gentle reverence beside the elder prince’s body.
The King bowed his head. His shoulders shuddered with sobs that he could no longer contain. The Queen started to weep uncontrollably.
Gerard stared in uncomprehending horror at his brother’s lifeless form. The three of them sat on the floor for a long time, tears flowing down their faces as they embraced, their grief finally overtaking them.
Chapter 6 - The Better Part of Valor
Exposed on the Cliffs
Randia and Stefan ran from the shelter of the little glade and into the open sunlight. They came to a stop at the edge of the bluff and stood together, still naked, gazing out over the valley. Given the distance and the whine of the winds around them they couldn’t make out any sounds from the city below. They could, however, clearly see the roiling cloud that had formed over the amphitheater. It was dense and gray, like an enormous thunderhead that had settled itself on the ground near the mouth of the firth.
“That doesn’t look like a fire to me,” Stefan ventured.
“Not to me, either,” Randia said. “It looks more like a steam or a vapor. It’s almost like an actual raincloud, hovering over the center of the city.”
He looked relieved. “Do you think it’s just natural weather, then? Nothing to worry about?”
She shook her head. “We do get fogs like that here by the mountains. But this one’s too localized. It should be breaking up, and it’s not.”
“I think you’re right,” he agreed. He pointed upward. “There are no other clouds out. The sun is strong, and it should be burning that fog away.”
Randia pursed her lips thoughtfully. “I think it’s a spell,” she ventured at last.
Stefan frowned.
“Why would anyone want to cast a cloud over the amphitheater?” he asked. “Is there going to be some surprise event there today? Something they would want to hide from view until it’s ready?”
“Father does have an announcement planned for this afternoon,” she answered uncertainly. “But there’d be no reason to cover up the preparations. That’s not his style, anyway. He’s never been one for theatrics.”
He laughed. “That’s more your style than his.”
She grinned. “Yes, Father and I are rather different in that way. Aron can put on a show when he wants to, but he doesn’t have the skill with magic for this.”
She looked intently at the cloud, shading her eyes from the sun with a slender hand.
“I think I can make out something moving inside it,” she said at last. “Like figures flying around, circling the center. Mostly black and red. They’re hard to make out, though.”
“Could they be pegasi?” he asked.
She shook her head again. “The colors are all wrong. And pegasi would be even less likely to pull a stunt like this than Father.”
Stefan pointed. “There’s a violet glow tinging the cloud. Can you see it?”
As they watched, a group of figures suddenly emerged from the edge of the brume. Enormous wings beat furiously around them, gleaming evilly in the light of the morning sun.
They were far away, but Randia could make out their shapes plainly enough. She gave a cry, and the back of her hand rose to cover her mouth. Her mind reeled in disbelief as she saw them begin to fly toward the mountain.
“Are those what I think they are?” Stefan asked. His normally vibrant voice was weak with shock. His arm instinctively slipped around her in a protective embrace, and she noticed that it was trembling.
“Demons!” she gasped. “A whole flight of them! By the Light, Stefan! The city is under attack!”
The two lovers watched numbly as more flights of demons began to appear. They emerged from the cloud, launching themselves into the city in all directions, circling it in a relentlessly expanding spiral.
“There must be scores of them already,” she said shakily. “And they keep coming. But how? Why?”
Stefan’s eyes narrowed. “You said you thought there was a spell involved. Doesn’t that make the question ‘who?’”
Randia nodded in sudden anger and understanding.
“Of course,” she said bitterly. “A spell to summon a cloud, to conceal the arrival of attacking demons. This is Emil Zomoran’s work. It has to be.”
Stefan pointed toward the first group they had seen. It had settled into a formation racing westward, like the head of a broad bladed spear.
“That flight — it’s headed straight for the palace.”
Randia’s eyes went wide. “They’re after my family!” she screamed.
She twisted, looking around wildly, as though searching for a way to rush down to the city to warn them. Stefan tightened his arm around her
“It’s no good, Randi,” he said, holding her firmly. “We’re too far away, and they’re almost there already. There’s nothing we can do.”
She sagged into his embrace, weeping in frustration at the truth of his words.
They stared helplessly as the demon formation reached the walls of the palace. Flashes of red and blue sprang from the head of the spear-point. A portion of the battlement erupted into the air in a shower of glowing fragments.
“Lightning and demon fire,” Stefan said quietly, as they saw the flight disappear behind the palace walls. “Some of them are sweeping the battlements on the north side. What do you think they’re after?”
“The conference room,” Randia sobbed. “Where the High Council deliberates. Aron told me they were meeting there today. To vote on the new constitution.”
“This is a surgical strike,” he said grimly. “They’re trying to take out the Council and the Crown together in a surprise attack.”
He pointed down toward the amphitheater. The cloud had finally begun to dissipate. The shimmering dome could be seen clearly now through the thinning mist, along with the true extent of the massing army.
“That thing — it’s like the hellgate from the legends of the Great War,” he said quietly. “This isn’t just an attack, Randi. It’s an invasion.”
As if to underscore his words, they heard a booming series of distant explosions. The sound of the attack on the palace had finally reached them on the cliffs.
“We have to get down there,” she said firmly. Her face was pale and she was shaking, but she finally seemed to have gotten her sobbing under control.
Stefan shook his head. “Not you,” he insisted. “You have to get to safety. When Windheart returns, you need to take her and head straight out along the firth to the east.”
Randia’s blue eyes flamed in defiance as she turned to face him. “And where do you think you’re going?”
“I’ll go down to the city. To do what I can to help.”
“Not without me, you won’t,” she said obstinately. She grabbed the arm holding her and pushed herself forcefully out of its embrace.
Stefan pointed angrily at the city.
“Take a look at that, Randi,” he said. “Take a good look. That’s not just dozens. It’s hundreds already, if not thousands. And they’re still coming. You’re the princess of Carlissa. And from the look of it, you may be the only member of the royal family not caught in the attack. We have to get you out of here. And someone has to get away to warn the rest of the kingdom.”
Randia nodded numbly, blinking back a new spurt of tears. “All right,” she said. “But I’m not going without
you.”
He shook his head. “If Windheart has to carry us both, it will slow you down.”
“No, Stefan! I’m not leaving you here!”
He looked into her eyes, his face tortured. Then he turned to look down at the city.
“I don’t want to leave you, either,” he said. “But I need to do what I can to help.”
To his surprise she smiled suddenly at him. She leaned in and kissed him.
“Oh, my dear, sweet prince,” she said, stroking his cheek. “I understand you. Your chivalry calls you to action, and you fear to shame yourself by fleeing. But I am the daughter of Danor Killraven and Elena Starlight, scion of the noblest bloodlines of the Eastern Continent. Can you ask me to flee, if you are unwilling to do the same?”
He closed his eyes, his expression pained. Finally he nodded.
“You’re right,” he said. “And I suppose we need to be honest with ourselves about this, you and I. We are performers. Singers, artists. Bards. That’s the choice we made for our lives. We’ve spent them learning music and poetry, not wizardry and combat. We can fence passably for a stage production, but we’re no warriors. If either of us goes down there to fight, we’ll be killed. And our sacrifice will be for nothing.”
She nodded reluctantly.
“The best we can do now is escape to warn others,” he continued. “We’ll ask Windheart to bear us both eastward until we’re far from the city. Then you’ll set me down in one of the towns along the south shore of the firth. Ironsbridge should do. I’ll rouse the countryside and get them to spread the alarm.”
“And then?” she asked.
“And then you will continue on to safety in the Elven Citadel,” he concluded forcefully. “And to warn Queen Talina.”
“All right,” she agreed. “If there’s anyone who could possibly send help in time, it’s Grandmother. If I fly hard I should be able to make it to Elde by nightfall.”
Stefan nodded in relief. He turned again to look down at the city.
Then he grabbed Randia by the arms and threw her to the ground. The breath blew out of her lungs as she struck the rough earth behind a patch of thin scrub. Stefan landed moments later right beside her.
“Quiet,” he whispered. “Don’t move, and don’t make a sound.”
She looked at him in bewilderment. He placed his lips against her ear.
“We were fools,” he breathed. “Standing out there in the open and talking about what to do, while winged demons were circling out over the city. There’s a group of them flying along the cliff just below us. One of them was looking our way and rising up toward the glade. I think it may have spotted us.”
Panic washed through Randia like a wave. She felt her skin growing clammy with fear as she glanced around. The bushes they lay behind afforded little cover. And there was nothing better to be found near the edge of the cliff where they had been standing.
“What do we do?” she whispered.
He shook his head silently, and she nodded in terrified understanding. She tried to still her ragged breathing, and to stop her body from shaking. Her hammering heart sounded loudly in her ears.
Before long they heard the beat of wings. A creature rose into view a few dozen feet from the cliff. They couldn’t see it clearly through their cover of underbrush, but it wasn’t large. It appeared only to be the size of a tall man, and was surprisingly human looking. It wore a jerkin of black leather, and its feathered wings and skin were tinged a deep red color. In one hand it carried a wickedly curved scimitar.
A half-demon, Randia decided in a fugue of detached fascination. The rare offspring of an elven or human woman taken by an incubus. She had heard of them, but those stories were more rumor and legend than known fact in the modern age of Kalara. At least they were in the civilized world, far from the remnants of the demon armies of the past that still lived in the lands far to the north and west.
Yet here they were now. A horde of them was massing right in the heart and capital of Carlissa.
The half-demon hovered uncertainly, looking at the cliff-face around them. Randia held her breath. Had it seen them, standing together at the edge of the bluff? Flying along the ridge below, it might not have been able to. Had it heard their voices? The wind was loud and it might have masked them. Perhaps it wasn’t sure they were there, and would move on when it didn’t find them …
The creature’s eyes settled on the cliff-face behind them. With a shiver of fright, she realized that it had spied the narrow opening to her glade. It began to rise and to move forward, clearly intending to investigate. In moments it would be able to see their hiding place …
A blur of white fell on the half-demon from above. It dropped right out of the sun with a sudden roar of wind. The creature’s eyes were blinded as it looked up in surprise.
A harsh war-whinny sounded its challenge over the cliffs as Windheart attacked. The pegasus’ great wings unfurled to beat the air, its body spinning as it dove in to strike. Its powerful hind legs lashed out, and its hooves caught the half-demon squarely in the face. With a sickening noise the creature’s head snapped backward in a spray of black gore. It toppled from the cliff, its body limp, and fell out of sight.
Randia’s heart sang as the pegasus flew by overhead. She reached out to Windheart through their bond, her friend’s presence once again flooding into her mind. She started to rise. She would run to her, leaping from the cliff and onto her back — a dangerous stunt they had practiced many times, riding together among the peaks of the Nurian Mountains. Then they would circle back for Stefan and escape over the ridge, flying away to the south and east.
Stefan grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back down behind their meager cover.
“Are you out of your mind?” he whispered harshly. “They’ll see you!”
Randia struggled to break free. “No!” she hissed. Somehow, she managed to keep the presence of mind not to raise her voice. “Now’s our chance to escape!”
When she looked again, though, she saw that Stefan was right. Windheart hadn’t stopped or come around for them. She had continued flying directly away from their hiding place on the side of the ridge. She felt their bond begin to weaken again as the distance between them increased.
“She can’t come back for us,” Stefan whispered. “The demons were too well prepared, and they’ve spread out too quickly. It’s too late to escape by flying. She’s leading them away, giving us time to flee without being spotted.”
The full realization of what was about to happen came to her in a burst of horror and loss. She reached out to Windheart desperately through their bond, screaming at her friend not to do what she intended. No creature in all of Kalara could match the speed of an unburdened pegasus of the Nurian Mountains. There was still a chance that she could outpace the monsters that were converging on her as she flew out over the city.
Don’t do it! she pleaded. Get away while you can!
But if she did, Randia realized in despair, the demons scouting along the ridge would return too quickly to their search. They would find the lovers before they could escape.
The pegasus reached out to her, touching her mind for the last time.
You must live on, my friend, she said. You and your new stallion. Find new life together, and remember me to your foals.
No! Randia thought, weeping. No, No!
The bond between pegasus and rider extended not only to the sharing of thoughts, but of sensations, perceptions, and emotions. In her mind, she could see the city through Windheart’s eyes. She could feel the warmth of the sun on her mane and the rush of the wind under her wings. She could feel the winged steed’s fierce loyalty, and her determination to save her friend’s life at all costs.
Windheart tried to release their weakening bond as she raced away. In panic, Randia struggled with all of her will to hold on to it.
She succeeded. With a rush of magic she didn’t know she could command, the pegasus’ awareness slammed firmly back into her mind. Her hidi
ng place on the bluff faded out of her consciousness. She was one with the winged horse, lost in its thoughts and feelings, flying out over the city.
“We have to move now, Randi,” Stefan whispered firmly in her ear. “You told me there was a path down to the city from here. You have to lead the way.”
Randia couldn’t hear him. She was still seeing the world from the point of view of the pegasus’ far-vision. Flying demons were fanning out all over the city now, and had already established a perimeter around it. They were converging on her, swarming in from all sides to cut off her escape.
Stefan tried to drag her with him as he crawled slowly away from the ledge and back toward the glade.
“You have to get a grip on yourself, Randi,” he pleaded. “If we delay, we won’t make it. I can’t lead you. You’re the only one who knows the way!”
Randia felt the wind under her wings as she wheeled and dodged. Arrows whined through the sky around her. She galloped on the air in the way of her kind, evading the demons that clawed at her and swiped at her with their weapons. Her agility and grace made them look slow and clumsy by comparison. Her heart sang with pride.
The net of enemies drew in around her.
Stefan managed to get one shoulder under her body. He rose into an awkward crouch and staggered toward the glade. He carried her, knees bent, keeping low to try to stay out of sight.
A stab of searing pain pierced her flank. She looked down to see the shaft of an arrow protruding from her left shoulder. She stumbled, her foreleg going numb. In desperation, she banked, and began a steep dive toward the palace.
Yes, Randia sobbed through their bond. Go there. Mother will protect you.
Stefan staggered through the opening and into the glade. He carried Randia’s naked form into the pool and held her there in his arms.
She looked down toward the palace. Demons were crawling all over the bailey, preventing the guards from regrouping to defend the inner gates. The conference room was cut off.