The Last Larnaeradee

by Shelley Cass

  Darziates regarded the Emperor unemotionally.

  Without taking his eyes from Razek, he let his reined in power ebb a little.

  Razek’s eyes widened as the advisor next to him stood to walk across to kneel before Darziates, without Darziates ever moving. Then the advisor took his own sword from its sheath.

  “What are you doing?!” Razek cried. “Stop at once!”

  “The magical ones could not defend against me. You most certainly cannot deny me. You don’t actually have a choice in anything,” Darziates explained. “None of you do. Your troops will join mine before the year is out. You will help me to cull enough Awyalknians for them to be controlled too. And then we’ll go further.”

  The advisor, his eyes wide and mouth gasping, raised his sword and took the hilt in two hands, facing the long dagger toward his own stomach. The advisor’s hands were shaking as the blade began to move through the air toward his navel.

  “Stop!” Razek was shouting now, but he found himself unable to rise.

  “I am being generous.” Darziates continued as the blade got slowly closer. “Instead of simply overtaking the land and spilling your royal, mortal blood, I offer you this –”

  The blade was itching so close that the thin shirt over the advisor’s stomach was fraying.

  “… I will be King, but will allow you, Razek, to remain as a governor, under my rule. Your people will retain their own minds.”

  The blade started to cut into flesh and the advisor screamed.

  Razek looked on in horror while the blade slid into the advisor’s flesh an inch.

  “I will collect the army soon,” Darziates finished calmly, and disappeared as if he had never been there, throne and all.

  But as the Sorcerer disappeared, Razek heard a meaty squelching as the advisor’s hands were forced to fully plunge his blade into his own belly.

  Chapter Seventy Eight

  Noal

  “Footsteps!” Dalin hissed, and pulled us down hastily into a hollow covered by a fallen tree.

  We’d been running raggedly for hours, not daring to stop and now the sun was going down. Setting like a fiery orange jewel in a velvety pink sky.

  We tried to rein in our ragged, breathless gasps, and clutched at our sides as we heard the footsteps crashing through the undergrowth only yards away, knowing they were too heavy to be Kiana’s steps.

  A voice called softly from nearby. “Nothing?”

  I pressed my eyes to a gap between the log and ground.

  “Nothing,” replied a second warrior, and they came together within my view.

  They were sweating and clutched their spiked helmets under their arms, their curved sabres pointing downward tiredly.

  “We have to be back at the meeting place before dark,” one commented, wiping his brow.

  “Perhaps one of the other teams found her,” the other said.

  I felt Dalin stiffen next to me.

  They were after just Kiana?

  “We’ll search the entire Forest if we have to,” the first soldier told his partner resolutely.

  “We do have to,” he agreed. “We need a powerful prize to ensure the King’s forgiveness.”

  The first warrior grimaced. “I have not felt such power before.” He turned on his comrade. “I feel her white light upon me even now.”

  “You have felt the King’s power ...” began the other soldier uneasily.

  “This was different. You know it,” interrupted the first.

  The other licked his lips. “Yes,” he agreed in a wavering voice. “I know.”

  “I would almost say we shouldn’t give her to him, and keep her safe ourselves. But that would be treason.”

  “Aye. That would be treason,” agreed the other, sounding unsure.

  There was a noise up ahead and both of them stiffened.

  A bird flapped out from the ferns and, as if galvanised by the sound, the two warriors began moving back the way they’d come at once.

  After a few moments Dalin was struggling to sit up.

  “What are you doing?” I asked him, although I already knew.

  “We need to find Kiana before they do,” he said with an expression of unshakeable determination.

  “She told us to keep going. She said she’d find us,” I reminded him uselessly. “She always does as she says.”

  “Perhaps she can’t this time!” he whispered agitatedly. “Perhaps they’ve got her on the chase or have cornered her. Perhaps she’s too hurt to move.”

  I gave in to my own dread. “Why in the Gods’ names are they so keen to have her now anyway?” I groaned.

  “They won’t hurt her now that they know,” Agrudek reassured us quietly.

  “Know what?” Dalin asked.

  “That she has magic. Different to the King’s.” He glanced at us nervously.

  “No human has magic,” I answered with perplexity. “Only Darziates and Agrona are magical.”

  “The white light? The effect she had on Darziates’ own poisoned soldiers? The birds?” Agrudek shrugged helplessly. “There’s something different about her.”

  Dalin looked bewildered. “I don’t know what they teach you in Krall,” he said slowly. “But there’s nothing wrong with Kiana.” He stood and slid back out of the hollow in the ground we’d hidden in.

  I clasped his hand as he bent down to pull me firmly out of the hollow, and we both turned to carefully lift the frail Agrudek out behind us.

  “Let’s go,” Dalin said grimly then, and we followed him back through the trees, the way we’d come.

  We only stopped when it was the dim blue of evening, and we saw the line of soldiers scouring the land ahead of us.

  They were keenly following a trail, and what was most likely Kiana’s tracks. A few of the warriors held flaming torches above the ground as they moved slowly forward, scouring the Forest floor for the path to their reward. And one of them held Kiana’s healer bag.

  Dalin pulled us roughly aside, behind a thick patch of massive trees.

  “We split up from here,” he whispered, peering around the tree trunk urgently.

  “You two search along this side,” he gestured to the left of the searching soldiers. “I’ll take the right.” He drew his sword without a noise. “We have to find her first.”

  “We’ll lose each other!” I whispered in protest. I’d rarely been apart from Dalin.

  “Every two hours we’ll meet up at the stream bank in this part of the Forest,” he told me hurriedly, itching to go. The flame lights of the soldiers were passing by. “After tonight we’ll follow the stream, I’m sure that’s what Kiana would be doing. It’s our best bet of finding her.”

  He was right. It was the same stream we’d been following ever since Kiana had led us into the Forest.

  I nodded glumly, beginning to see how he felt now. He needed to find her.

  “Be careful.”

  “Always brother,” he said before slipping quietly away into the trees.

  I looked after him with a lurching feeling in my stomach. Then, with no less urgency, I helped Agrudek as we made our own way to search for Kiana.

  Chapter Seventy Nine

  War Lord of Awyalkna, and Angra Mainyu’s counterpart, Chayton Conall pushed the canvas door open and stepped into the King’s tent with a heavy heart.

  He found the King pouring over parchments of reports, looking weary and aged.

  Glaidin had been outwardly unshakeable in the months of gathering forces on the border and had maintained determined strength while leading his loyal Awyalknians into Krall. But privately, he was a broken man.

  Word of the Dragon attack upon the Palace had only fuelled their forces with further motivation, but the news had drained his King.

  Glaidin was already facing a hopeless war, his Queen was far from his protection, and he was haunted by the fact that Dalin and Noal had not been found. Glaidin had felt the weight of their disappearance keenly, feeling sure that his quarrel with Dalin had been th
e cause of it.

  Conall knew that Dalin could be a hot blooded, often impatient boy, but the Prince was also passionate, good natured and fiercely loyal. The Prince wouldn’t have foolishly run away out of spite. Nevertheless Glaidin could not be consoled on the matter, and as Glaidin had been Conall’s closest friend since boyhood, it pained him to now be bringing his friend further upsetting updates.

  “Conall,” Glaidin husked tiredly in greeting. “What news?” He stretched his long legs out and rubbed at an angular, now almost gaunt face.

  Conall grimaced. There was no helping it.

  “Our spies report that Darziates now has the allegiance of Lixrax,” he reported bluntly.

  Glaidin’s broad shoulders slumped a fraction. “The Sorcerer already has nearly double our numbers in troops from his own country. Not to mention his odd creatures.”

  Conall toed the dirt unhelpfully. “And not to mention the fact that he has apparently conjured himself a set of Dragons along with his Witch.”

  “But now he also has the fierce blades of Lixrax, as well?” Glaidin grimaced.

  “Yes.” Conall nodded. “He must be quite intimidated by us.”

  Glaidin choked, resignedly rubbing his eyes.

  The troops had only recently completed their preparations and started a march into Krall. From the moment they had crossed the borders, the whole Awyalknian army had felt a disconcerting shift upon crossing from one land to the next – a draining, unnatural force that could only be the touch of Sorcery.

  “It is a hopeless fight against such a being,” Glaidin sighed.

  “I know it, you know it. Everyone knew it before we all set out,” Conall shrugged burly shoulders. “Yet the Awyalknian army does not cower. We go to meet Darziates before he comes for us.”

  “The situation is dire,” Glaidin said.

  “And it’s only getting worse,” Conall nodded.

  “So tomorrow …”

  “We march ever on. Your people are behind you, my King.”

  “I am glad of them. And glad of you,” Glaidin said finally. Ignoring the fact that they desperately needed help. And that Awyalkna had near been emptied, and there seemed no aid to come.

  Chapter Eighty

  Kiana

  The burning had started in the hole where my skin had been punctured. But as blood had oozed down my front in a hot, thickening slick, the blazing fire beneath the surface of my flesh had only intensified.

  I blinked sweat from my eyes and clutched my sopping shoulder, feeling the heat radiating in my cheeks and throbbing in my fingers and toes. Gods, it was as if my arteries ran thick with boiling pitch.

  Yet somehow shivers were radiating through my core. Somehow my teeth were chattering. And I was dimly aware that on the surface, my clammy skin was cold all over.

  There was searing pain as I used my free hand to bat away ferns and branches that scratched at my face, but then the contradictory feeling of a light, trickling tickle as a trail of blood forged a new line down my arm and over my elbow.

  I was moving sluggishly, stepping heavily and stooping like a heavy sleep walker drugged with foggy dreams. On I went, one leaning step after another to slowly push through green walls, and to slowly find my boys.

  I’d promised them, and I had to hurry, had to drag on, because time was passing. The sun was hazy in my eyes, or my eyes were hazy in the sun, and Dalin would be troubled.

  When I glanced down for a moment I saw my white shirt was dripping and stained. I could hear gasping and rasping but my breaths simply refused to be hushed. And my hands were red gloves, shaking too much now to press the hole in my shoulder closed, shaking too much to even hold them up against the sharp fingers of the ferns.

  Red drops on the leaves appeared to lurch and spin before my eyes. Round and round. And I worried dimly that my blood was not thickening, the bleeding was not getting lighter, instead every step meant another warm little spurt from the hole to tickle my ribs and make my hands slippery. I hadn’t felt so damaged since Agrona had branded me on the same unlucky spot.

  I stopped with a wave of nausea to lean over dizzily. When I moved to force my aching muscles and bones into an upright stance, the sky had become darker. Or my sight had.

  Two steps designed to carry me forward took me to the left instead and then I stumbled because it was so dark in my head.

  I made an effort to run blindly, wanting nothing but my boys. But instead I felt myself go down and the ground dropped away. My eyes rolled upward as I tumbled downward, my limbs dashing uselessly against sharp rocks instead of protecting me so that I felt new hot scratches open all over.

  The drop ended with a brutal hardness catching my body, and I felt the splintering of ribs going loose inside me. I retched on the vomit that wanted to explode from me upon impact, and scrabbled onto hands and knees to open my eyes on a world that was rotating.

  The rock below me and the trees all round were alive and twirling as fast as my insides were heaving and my head was pounding – as if my brain was swelling quickly and then shrinking just as fast.

  “Dalin …” my voice rolled around the clumsy tongue in my mouth. I heard a wet sob filter out from stinging lips as I wobbled and stood, wondering if I was spinning without meaning to.

  Gods, it was hard to walk when carrying my thudding heart became a burden that got bigger in my chest. But the thudding was getting slower, and so was I. My boots were getting too heavy to lift.

  The trees blurred and darkened as they passed by, looking like they were marching onward faster than I was. I stopped altogether and a tree leaned on me to take a break in the fog.

  I realised I could hear voices. Faint, faraway, but close voices.

  Gods, the pain was a suffocating blanket. It swelled over my whole body.

  Then I moved the heaviness of my head to look to my side, where I saw another movement.

  His lovely shape was moving fast, leaping over rocks, racing between trees.

  “Dalin,” I mumbled. “Found you.”

  It was nearly dark but I saw his desperate expression.

  There was an awful rushing in my ears and black patches blocked bits of the world out in my eyes.

  I was so glad when he came to me in an urgent flurry, but when he took my hand to fly away with me, I felt like I was sinking backward, out of balance, like I might just gradually be sucked down into the foliage and stay there, swallowed whole.

  Instead of running with him, I sank into his side.

  He had my hand, and the blood now fell like sticky raindrops from his fingertips too, but something inside of me was letting go. Untying itself from an anchor so I could sink down to rest.

  His eyes were on the hole in my chest. Green eyes. Frantic eyes.

  A hole! I thought to myself dizzily. I hate sewing!

  My insides had become weights that dragged, heavy with some dreadful, seeping sickness that was spreading through my body from the wound – chasing down my feverish soul with dark, deadly arms outstretched.

  Dalin held my hand tighter in a saturated grip, he held me to reality as I noticed torch lights getting closer. I reached towards the lights, the golden globes of flame bobbing prettily in the darkening world, but Dalin pulled me away.

  In a sickening lurch I was up in his arms and looking at the moving stars between the circling treetops.

  Body wracking fire raged up and down my side, exploding in my shoulder and chest.

  “Dalin.” I gurgled softly to check we were both really there, and I felt warm wetness drizzle down my chin.

  Everything was smudging and distorting, as if a painting had been spoilt by raindrops, and only one thing stayed clear and tangible.

  The grip that Dalin had on me. Keeping me in this world.

  Chapter Eighty One

  Noal

  “N … Noal …” I heard Agrudek’s tired, strained voice as I peered anxiously into the night.

  “We’ll give Dalin just a little longer,” I cut him off distractedly, kno
wing that it was getting late. I could see that the moon was high and small as I stood beside the gurgling water of the steadily rushing stream.

  “Noal … your boot …” Agrudek quavered, and I realised that his voice held a note of panic.

  Then I felt something creep up my ankle, one prickly leg at a time.

  I groaned when I looked down to see the dark shape pause in its sneaking to wave its hairy, spiked legs up at me, as if it was pleased to have been found out.

  “Granx?” Agrudek whimpered disbelievingly, drawing his legs up onto the rock I’d left him to rest on.

  “You’re back again?” I asked the beady eyed creature, feeling almost resigned. “Surely it can’t be just to poison me after all of our meetings.”

  Its two fangs, glistening with poison, seemed to smile out of the darkness, and I frowned when I saw it waggle its legs towards the trees.

  Then Agrudek sucked in a terrified gasp, and I looked up to see six towering, dark shapes watching us from between the trees.

  I stiffened as my heart jumped into my mouth and I realised that we were surrounded again.

  Though I wanted desperately to reach for my sword and to move to Agrudek, I didn’t move. The dark silhouettes that had spread out between the trunks betrayed incredibly tall, imposing figures. Inhuman figures. But not spiked like the beasts.

  They were standing silent and still like shadows, but their keen eyes glittered out from the darkness, and the hairs on my arms raised as I noticed that the air seemed filled with something I had felt before, from the Willow. A sizzling energy that made the surface of my skin ripple with shivers.

  It was not the kind of feeling that any of Darziates’ creatures had given me, and while I was certain these beings were not human, I was also certain they were not of ill design.

  “Well met,” I held my hands out non-threateningly. “I am Noal. This is Agrudek.”

  The figures wavered a little, as if addressing them had broken a spell.

  One especially tall figure, shrouded like the others in shadow, stepped forward into the moonlight then. I craned my neck upwards to see him, while feeling cascades of that sensation in the air – which could only be described as magical – spread outward from him like a cool mist.