As long as we don’t get some fanatics eager to kill themselves for the benefit of the others, we should be all right for a time.
As Ava watched the first clash of battle unfold, she worked several attack spells. She was ready to unleash them, one after the other, but then felt the niggling use of sorcery not her own. She figured the enemy had at least one sorcerer among them, but since they had not attacked in unison with the infantry, she had hoped that either her assumption had been wrong, or the sorcerers had suffered injuries preventing them from joining the battle.
The use of sorcery forced her to drop her attack spells before they were finished so that she could prepare for the enemy. She reached out with her power, trying to feel how many sorcerers she’d have to deal with. She cursed aloud when learning the answer was three. If there was one low-grade sorcerer, or even two, Ava felt like even in her current state, she had nothing to worry about.
But three? Three is just enough to create a stalemate.
Locked into a personal battle with those three, she had to turn most of her attention away from the spears and swords, trusting Myra to handle any changes in strategy. She negated many spells designed to send dread into the hearts of their group so they would falter under the press of Geneshan soldiers. Other spells included blinding light, annoying insects, and small balls of fire.
Ava repelled them all, one after the other, over and over. Occasionally after a small break in her own battle, she’d try to aid those fighting below on the slope, but all she’d have time for was watch her people fight, grow tired, and in some instances die.
Though she could no longer see Hol, having left the back entrance to their cave in order to face down the Geneshans as they came up toward the main entrance, she’d been hearing the fighting in the distance for as long as theirs had gone on. She had taken those sounds as a good sign, but also doubted it would be enough.
Certainly not good enough for Balak’s army to win, and then just so happen to stumble upon and save us in time.
Fatigue and superior numbers began to win out. The Geneshans pushed up the first third of the hill and looked like they would keep going as Myra called for an immediate withdrawal upward.
Despite her battle with the three sorcerers, Ava was able to watch Myra trigger one of the traps she had told her about, cutting bindings on logs lining part of the narrow path they had created. The sides of the path collapsed, killing more than a dozen of the enemy in the process. The delay also blocked the path upward. Myra repositioned her men further up the mountain, rotated those who were wounded or fatigued to the back of her formation, and caught their breath while waiting for the Geneshans to haul the debris away that prevented their ascension.
Ava wanted desperately to talk with her niece to give her encouragement and let her know how proud she was of all they had accomplished thus far. She also wanted to see to the others in the group and make sure they didn’t lose heart at their first withdrawal. However, the three sorcerers would not let up in their efforts, forcing Ava to trust in Myra and the group’s training.
After a small ten minute break, the fighting began again. The Geneshans pushed forward with renewed determination as if angry at their failing to notice Myra’s trap. They managed to make it two thirds up the path to their cave this time and Myra had to call for another withdrawal. Ava only wished she could have seen the faces of the Geneshan soldiers as her niece’s second trap was sprung, collapsing the path once again.
Ava’s thoughts on the enemy’s faces didn’t last long though as the Geneshans cleared their path much quicker the second time, and pushed ever harder. The labors of the enemy forced Myra to withdrawal yet again and spring the last of her three traps.
The Geneshans had learned what to expect by the third ruse. They suffered only one death and moved at great speed to clear the debris. Myra saw the same and hustled the surviving ten fighters in their group still alive up the pass toward Ava at the mouth of the cave as it was the last best position to fight from.
Ava’s heart dropped at the bleakness of the situation.
Gods, only ten?
There was another small break in her battle with the sorcerers, and she took the moment to stare down the trail of Geneshans moving ever upward. She knew they had killed at least a third of their number, but despite their efforts, it would not be enough.
Ao’s teats.
The arrival of Myra and the surviving defenders caused those who had stayed behind in the cave—children, most of the women, the elderly, and wounded—to shout or sob.
As the small break in attacks from the three sorcerers lengthened, Ava rested to gather some final reserve a strength while helping situate all who could fight into position at the cave mouth.
Myra came to her. “What can you do?”
“Same thing I’ve been doing. Not much with three sorcerers occupying me.”
“Then kill them.”
“It’s not so easy to—”
“Focus on wherever you think one is located. The weakest. Try to kill that one first, then work on the next one and so on.”
“If I focus on one, the other two mages will be able to target them,” she said, nodding to the soldiers at the cave mouth, crouched with spears raised.
Myra whispered. “I know. Do it anyway.”
Ava sighed in resignation and understanding.
What does it matter at this point? We have to try something, she thought as shouts from the enemy grew in volume as they neared their position.
The charging Geneshans slammed into those at the cave mouth, just as Ava began work on a spell to find the weakest of the three sorcerers. She felt Zadok come up beside her, careful not to touch her. She wasn’t sure if it was to protect her or because he was scared.
She quested outward with invisible hands, searching for the three sorcerers. She found them one-by-one. They were mostly even in power, but one seemed more fatigued, so that’s the one she chose to eliminate first. She had never tried her spell to take someone’s breath away from such a distance, but she didn’t have many other options at her disposal.
A blinding light shone through her closed eyes and those around her swore.
They acted faster than I thought once I stopped defending against them.
“Hurry up, Aunt Ava,” she heard Myra shout.
She squeezed her eyes tighter, drawing in power from the world around her and pushing it out to her target through her spell. She felt it take hold, the sorcerer breaking off his own attack from the other two. Ava no longer felt the third one’s connection to sorcery and knew him to be dead.
Or at the least unconscious.
Despite the hopeless nature of their situation, she couldn’t stop herself from smiling, taking some pleasure in what she knew was inevitably her last moments.
Something painful entered her thigh, and a jolt ran through her body. She went rigid, collapsing hard and striking her head.
“Aunt Ava!” Zadok shouted.
She opened her eyes and saw another arrow like the one she had been shot with before protruding from her leg.
But there are no Master Sorcerers in the area.
Looking to the opening of the cave, a Geneshan carrying a bow drew another arrow back aimed at her.
Perhaps there doesn’t need to be if the runes bind the spell properly.
A ball of fire struck the cave mouth. Both Geneshans and members of their group burned.
The other two sorcerers.
For a moment she was appalled they’d strike so recklessly around their own, but then the enemy had done that before. They’d gladly sacrifice their own if it was what their god, Beel, willed.
Myra and Nason tried to extinguish the fire on the defenders’ clothes. In the process, flames found life on their arms or legs.
She heard Myra scream in pain before rolling to the ground while a bloody Dam
aris dove on top of her to stifle the fire crawling up her back.
Not like this. Not while I’m helpless.
She looked to Zadok. “Pull the blasted thing out!”
But he was diving after Myra.
Bees filled the cave next.
How are those two acting so quickly?
Ava pushed aside the pain from falling and lunged at her nephew’s legs. Her fingers dug into his ankle. He yelped, turning back toward her.
“Pull it out!” she screamed at him while pointing to the arrow in her leg.
Ava wasn’t sure if it was understanding or fear, but Zadok moved in a blur toward her and yanked the arrow free. Her connection to the power began to return. Hoping to keep the Geneshans at bay, she drew on that power and extended a hand to throw fire at the enemy waiting for the flames to dissipate near the entrance. But it didn’t work.
She cursed and screamed in frustration at the goddess of sorcery for the piece of crap she was. She watched in horror as a Geneshan managed to lop off the head of someone from their group while she lay too weak to do anything about it.
Not like this. Make them pay in some way.
She got to her knees, hand going to her waist to draw her sword.
I still have steel.
Then the world spun.
As best as Ava could tell nothing shook or trembled, but everyone acted as though it did, falling down from feet or knees to their backs. Friend and foe alike dropped weapons to clutch at their heads and guts, some spasming.
But not Ava. Almost as quickly as the world spun for everyone else, it righted itself for her. In fact, Ava felt better than she had in a long time. In over a year.
Then she knew.
The eruptions always attacked sorcery. But this is the opposite. Is the artifact gone?
She didn’t care. She’d figure it out later. Right then, it was unimportant. She stood, drawing in power without effort. It was unlike anything she felt before.
Gods, I’ve missed this.
She glanced over at her niece and nephew. They looked rough with wounds and fatigue, but neither seemed to be feeling any effects from the release of sorcery.
Their resistance.
They came to the same realization then, crawling to lay hands on those around them.
With many at least partially incapacitated from the surge of sorcery, Ava used those moments to pull in power like a drunk reacquainting themselves with whiskey.
The first of the enemy stumbled toward her, weapon in hand.
Her hand flicked out and an invisible force threw the Geneshan back, slamming him into the wall, his head cracking against stone. Others rose, but Ava threw them against the walls of the cave with ease. She walked toward the cave entrance as Zadok and Myra looked at her in awe.
I’ve never had this much control before, especially not with this sort of power.
Her mind buzzed with the possibilities.
“Where are you going, Aunt Ava?” asked Zadok eyes wide.
“Outside. I’ve been wanting to do something for a long time now.”
She stepped into a slowly brightening sky. Gray faded and in its place, a once-familiar blue began to return.
The artifact must be destroyed. Please be alive, Big Brother.
She looked up as black clouds turned gray, then white. Then movement to her left caught her eye. A giant fireball descended on her position.
So they’re recovered as well. And it feels like they’re more powerful too. Good.
She grabbed the ball of fire the Geneshan sorcerers had thrown at her.
Months of practicing when I barely had any connection paid off.
She turned the fireball back on the position of the sorcerers. It zipped down at impossible speed, slamming into the earth as distant screams sounded.
She grinned, though not so much because she eliminated the sorcerers with one blow, but because the rest of the Geneshan soldiers came at her, wanted to continue the fight.
Nothing could have pleased Ava more.
CHAPTER 43
I awoke with a dead piece of wood in my hand. The artifact looked like driftwood, its color muted to a dull brown. The lightness in its weight struck me then, and I realized for the first time it was hollow.
I sat up.
Despite my fatigue, I found the strength to twist my hands and snap the wood in half. I placed each piece of wood on the ground and slammed my boot heel into it, breaking it further with each jerk of my leg.
“One more for me,” Hamath said.
I wheeled at his voice. He looked awful. Skin pale and clammy, eyes sunken, lips cracked and bloody. I shuffled over and kneeled beside him.
“You all right?”
“Dying.”
“No. We just need to get you to a healer.”
He snorted. “Won’t make it. Half my body is broken from getting thrown against the wall. The other half is barely hanging on.”
“Did you know touching the mage would cause him to drop the artifact?”
“Nah, just lucked out.”
My voice caught when I asked, “Why’d you push me out the way? I have a stronger resistance.”
“Because you always jump into things without thinking of the consequences. I was doing what me and Ava always do by saving your sorry butt. You got kids, remember?”
Tears wanted to fall, but I begged them away. It was hard enough to see Hamath in such bad shape. I didn’t want to additionally think of my kids, or Ava either.
“Besides,” he continued. “I wanted some of that glory you always seem to get. It’d be nice if when this was all said and done people would remember me for doing something worthwhile.”
I had seen Hamath injured many times before, some awful, but never had I heard him talk like that. My breath caught in my chest.
Gods, he really wasn’t going to make it.
“I’ll remember you. Always,” I finally managed.
A small grin formed on his face. “I’m good with that.”
“I was right, you know.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“You still are a good person.”
He squeezed my hand lightly. I don’t think he had the strength for more. Then his grip lessened.
He died.
* * *
I must have kneeled over Hamath’s body for hours. It definitely felt that way as I thought of the countless times we had saved each other’s lives. I thought of all the card games, the jokes, the sharing of dreams. I thought of the countless bonfires we had stood before side-by-side in silence.
At some point, I noticed the sky was no longer gray, but once again blue. I should have been amazed by that, or happy in some way. It seemed to be a sign that our business with the artifact and the end of the world was done.
But right then, I just didn’t really care.
I put a lot of things to rest kneeling beside Hamath. My feelings of anger, disappointment, and betrayal from his life as a raider. The part of his life he had kept from me no longer mattered as much as it did before.
The only thing that did matter was that I had lost my friend for good.
CHAPTER 44
Boaz found me later, still kneeling over Hamath’s body. He didn’t say anything other than to offer his apologies and help me carry Hamath’s body back to camp.
Even after constructing a litter, the task was not a simple one. We must have stopped to rest more than a dozen times. But I wouldn’t leave Hamath’s body there to rot, and I wouldn’t allow anyone else to take my spot in carrying him.
Entering camp was interesting. Most everyone celebrated. Why wouldn’t they? We had won.
It was hard for me to feel that way.
Already, stories circulated about how we defeated the Geneshan sorcerers while Balak held the lines of
the main body. Rumors spread about how I had battled the High Mage after he turned traitor once gaining the artifact and destroying the Geneshans.
All stories, of course. I tried to correct the ones I heard, but men seemed to care little for the truth. They wanted to celebrate, and the truth wasn’t always as much fun to rejoice in.
Many wanted me to take part in the celebrations, but that was the last thing on my mind. I had my respects to pay before I did anything else.
* * *
Ira and I were among the first at the bonfires. Reuma stood on the opposite side of Ira, offering him support. Boaz was at my other side.
“I never thought we’d be it, Ty. The last two left. Well, excepting Ava, I hope.”
Ira spoke to me as if neither Reuma nor Boaz existed. It wasn’t an insult to them. It was just that we had known both Dekar and Hamath longer. We had shared a third of our lives together.
“Yeah, me either.”
The fire danced in front of our eyes, flames licking over the burning bodies of the Turine fallen.
“I never understood how you and Hamath could do this. Just watching the dead burn.” He paused. “But I think I finally do. It’s gut wrenching to watch every piece of what they once were disappear in fire. But at the same time, it’s peaceful. It helps you come to terms that this isn’t some dream. This is real and you can start to move on. Is that what it’s always been like for you?”
“Sometimes. Sometimes it’s a place to wallow in my thoughts and memories. Sometimes it’s just a place to escape those thoughts.” I sighed. “It’s always a place to say good-bye though.”
“Is that something you say out loud or to yourself?”
“I don’t think it matters either way.”
“I’ll think I keep my goodbye to Dek to myself. Only he’d understand half of what I was trying to say anyway.”
I thought of Hamath. “I understand completely.”
Resurrected Soldiers: The Tyrus Chronicle - Book Three Page 38