Shardless

by Stephanie Fisher

  Taly had always had a soft spot for animals, so after she stalled her own horses, she started tending to the others—feeding, watering, and mucking. The animals tore into their food, paying her no mind while she shoveled out the trampled hay and manure.

  It was hard work, but Taly was grateful for the distraction. After that morning, she could no longer deny that her feelings for Skye were becoming complicated, and she needed space to sort it all out. The fact that she had drunkenly invited the arrogant, highborn bastard into her bed last night clearly indicated that her usual strategy of just ignoring whatever made her uncomfortable until it went away didn’t seem to be working this time.

  When she was done cleaning out the stalls, Taly washed herself off underneath one of the spigots in the training yard, splashing water over her face and arms and picking random pieces of hay out of her braid. She had discarded her jacket when she got too warm, so she dusted it off before pulling it back on. The late afternoon sun beat down on her from above, and she could still feel sweat beading and dripping down her back. Unbuttoning the cuffs of her coat, she rolled the sleeves up and over her elbows, breathing a small sigh as she felt the cool breeze caress her heated skin.

  Figuring that Skye would probably be worrying himself into an early grave by now, Taly set off for the village. The stables were situated just outside of town, and instead of taking the main road, she cut through a small wooded area. There was a narrow footpath winding between the trees, a shortcut forged by the passage of people and time that would deposit her just outside the tenements west of the market square. While the western side of Ebondrift couldn’t exactly be considered the safest part of town, that didn’t worry her too much. If she loosened her braid to cover her ears, she was dressed well enough to pass for a lowborn. She might have to be more wary of pickpockets, but most criminals tended to steer clear of those they thought might have enough magic to put up a fight.

  As she stepped off the beaten-down path onto the cobbled street, Taly paused. Something felt off, and her hand instinctively reached for the pistol holstered at her hip. The narrow lane was empty—completely deserted. Though unusual, that wasn’t what worried her. The market stalls were just a few streets over. Even if the crowds were a bit leaner than normal, she should’ve been able to hear something—voices carried on the wind or the clang of a blacksmith’s hammer. But there was nothing. No sound. Everything around her was still and quiet.

  A clash followed by a muted scream shattered the heavy silence. Taly hesitated. This was the part where Skye would tell her to turn around and walk the other way. Unfortunately, the other way would take almost an hour to loop back around to where she needed to be. That wouldn’t do.

  Taking a steadying breath, Taly pulled her pistol and continued along her original path, heading down the street that would eventually lead her to the market square that bordered the Gate Watchers’ compound. As she navigated the maze-like backstreets, the condition of the homes that lined the narrow thoroughfare started to deteriorate. All up and down the roadway, doors were smashed in, and smoke trailed from broken windows in lazy wisps.

  The further she ventured into the slum, circling closer and closer to the market, the more the roads began to narrow. Here, scattered debris littered the streets and some of the buildings had been completely burned to the ground, the embers still smoldering beneath piles of cindered wood. The air around her started to feel hot, and motes of ash drifted on the wind like snowflakes.

  There had been fighting here recently. Fire mages—water mages too, if the puddles beneath her feet were anything to go by—had taken up arms. Against whom, she didn’t know. There were no bodies, just wide streaks of crimson smeared across the pavement.

  Another crash echoed through the empty street, closer this time. Taly crept forward, edging around a corner and ducking behind an overturned food stand. Around a bend in the road ahead, she could see a child huddled against the wall of one of the few buildings that were still intact. Splintered crates surrounded the trembling girl, and she was whimpering pitifully, her hands clasped protectively over her head. Her long, dark locks covered her face like a sheet. Three men, tall but gaunt, towered over her.

  Taly couldn’t see the assailants’ faces, so she had no way to tell if they were fey or mortal or somewhere in-between. If they had magic, that could pose a potential problem if she were to interfere. Judging by the rags they wore, they weren’t highborn, and while that was a point in her favor, even a lowborn fire mage could prove worrisome if worst came to worst.

  Still, Taly couldn’t just let them beat up on a kid like that.

  “Hey!” Taly shot her pistol into the air. The sound reverberated harshly through the empty street. “That’s the only time I’m going to miss. I suggest you go on about your business and leave the kid alone.”

  The girl’s frightened eyes glanced over at her, searching for the source of the shot. She was fey—Taly could see the pointed tips of her ears from here—but the color of her eyes was too muddy to make her anything more than shardless. Even if by some chance the kid had enough fey blood to be considered lowborn, she wasn’t nearly old enough to have completed her Attunement Ceremony. That meant she didn’t have any magic of her own. Nothing useful, at least.

  None of the attackers turned her way, so Taly fired off another shot. “I lied. That was the last time I’ll miss. Seriously, guys—you’re testing my patience!” Picking up a rock, Taly hurled it at the group of men. One of the assailants finally flinched, and she smiled grimly when three heads swiveled in her direction, the small girl momentarily forgotten. Without hesitation, the child scrambled to her feet and darted off in the opposite direction.

  As the three thugs shuffled closer, Taly drew in a sharp breath, and her grip on her pistol faltered. Though they looked like they had perhaps once been men, the resemblance was superficial at best. There was something soulless about them—the way they moved, the way their flesh seemed to sag off the bone beneath pallid, bloodless skin. Each step jerked their bodies from side-to-side, and their eyes… their eyes made her stomach churn. They were flat and dull, almost like the life had been drained away only to be replaced by an immeasurable depth of pain.

  One of the creatures’ mouths gaped wide, the joints of its jaw creaking in the silence of the abandoned city. Its chest heaved, it gave a feral cry, and before the echo of that tortured wail had ceased, the group charged forward, careening down the street at a pace that shouldn’t have been possible.

  “Shards!” Taly yelped, backing out of her hiding spot, desperately trying to keep some distance between them and her.

  Her finger twitched rapidly, and three pops of gunfire sliced through the air. One of the men grunted as a bullet found its target, but none of the strange undead soldiers fell. She readied her next shot, but her targets were moving too quickly for her eyes to follow, lurching erratically as they ran. The creatures’ auras, their golden afterimages, sputtered to life, but even that wasn’t enough. At the rate they were moving, it was just a blurry fog that clouded her vision as she tried to aim.

  She tried to steady her gun and take aim, but a sudden sharp stinging sensation in her wrist made the pistol lurch in her grip as she fired off another salvo. The shots ricocheted ineffectually off a nearby piece of metal roofing that lay strewn across the street.

  “Damn it!” Taly cursed when none of the bullets found their mark. Her pistol clattered to the ground as the sting intensified, morphing into a dull burn. The wave of heat continued to ripple up her arm, a crescendo of agony that grew more intense with each passing moment. The pain dominated every thought, every sense, and she dropped to her knees, clutching at her arm even as the creatures drew closer.

  What is this? she thought, tears leaking from her eyes.

  As suddenly as the spasm of blazing anguish began, it abruptly released its hold on her. Taly’s eyes immediately popped open, and her head whipped around, frantically searching for her discarded gun. When she caught sight of the pis
tol, she groped for it, whirling to face her attackers.

  “Oh, no. Not again,” she whispered, coming up short. Her stomach dropped, and she shook her head, unable to decide if the sight in front of her was a blessing or a curse.

  The creatures were no longer sprinting towards her. Their movements had slowed, almost like they were running through water. With each decelerated lunge forward, their bodies seemed to hang in the air, coiled in a web of gilded threads. Their cries were long and drawn out and sounded garbled to her ears.

  A manic laugh bubbled up out of her chest. Blessing! Definitely a blessing, she thought when their ghostly auras finally snapped into focus. They were hazy and undefined around the edges, but the golden specters were distinct enough for her to see. They moved just one step ahead of their physical counterparts, showing her exactly where she needed to aim.

  The moment didn’t last long. The creatures were already starting to speed back up again, shaking off the gossamer strands that impeded their movements. Not wanting to waste this chance, Taly raised her pistol and fired off six more rounds, using the golden visions to guide her shots. As time once again found its correct rhythm, the men, or things that used to be men, fell to the ground—their knees shattered.

  Without warning, the air drained from Taly’s lungs, and she doubled over, gasping and desperately clutching at her throat. It felt like something had been forcibly drained out of her. The feeling was horrible—like drowning. She sucked in breaths of air, relieved when the crushing weight on her chest began to lift.

  As the pain faded to the background, Taly looked up. Those things were still moving towards her, clawing at the ground and dragging their ruined legs behind them. They might have once been human—or fey. She didn’t know. It looked as though their ears had been ripped away. Their eyes, sunken and grotesque, swiveled in decaying sockets, and their mouths opened wide as they groaned and gurgled.

  Taly’s hands were shaking as she gripped her pistol. Three more shots. This time she shot to kill, aiming straight for their heads. All three gave a sad little jerk as their lives were snuffed out. Murmuring a silent prayer to the Shards, Taly hoped that if there was anything with any feeling left in these dead husks, they would find some peace now.

  Nearly out of ammunition, she re-holstered her pistol and pulled out her spare. The market square was just around the bend in the road ahead. She took a hesitant step and then another towards the three bodies that lay unmoving in the street. As she came closer, her stomach convulsed. The stench filling the air was, for lack of a better word, awful—like decayed carrion. It made the air feel heavy with rot, and she vainly tried to blot out the smell by pressing her face into the crook of her arm.

  The street was too narrow to go around. Eyeing the nearest creature warily, Taly gave it a sharp kick, keeping her pistol trained on its body. She gave it another kick, just to be sure it was down, before she started picking her way through the corpses.

  Rolling one of the creatures over onto its back with her foot, Taly took a moment to study it. The thing’s cheeks were hollowed, and there was a dark, gaping hole where its eye socket should’ve been—right where she had shot it.

  “What the hell?” she mumbled, bending down to get a better look at the dark, coagulated fluid around the ruined eye-socket. The wound wasn’t bleeding. In fact, the creature seemed to be covered in lacerations and gashes, but none of them bled. The blood spattered across its body had long ago clotted and congealed.

  Beneath the tattered edges of its shirt, a long gash split its abdomen from hip to sternum—another un-bleeding wound with more of the same black, viscous fluid smeared along the putrefied edges of its torn flesh. Embedded in its chest, just above its heart, was a violet crystal. It was large, the size of her palm, and it glowed and pulsed, almost like a heartbeat.

  Shadow magic? Taly thought with growing horror. How was that even possible? She had never heard of any kind of spell this heinous.

  The thing gave a twitch, and Taly stumbled back, drawing in a sharp breath when a golden haze enveloped her. A hand clamped down on her wrist, the vice-like grip forcing her pistol to the ground. Turning on her heel, she instinctively twisted out of the thing’s grip. Years of combat training with Skye made the movements second-nature.

  Zephyr was in her other hand in an instant, and she plunged the blade deep into this new attacker’s belly. Something cold dripped onto her fist as she felt for the small toggle just beneath the cross-guard. Slamming her thumb down on the crystal switch, Taly braced herself as a rush of air left the tip of the dagger. The gale of wind spiraled outward in an unforgiving blast, and the creature’s abdomen exploded, chunks of flesh splattering against the walls of the alley. The thing’s body, now torn asunder, fell to the pavement in two pieces.

  Taly shook off the fragments of shredded entrails from her blade and wiped at the patina of viscera and ooze that now coated her face and body with her sleeve. There were three more of those creatures moving in behind her now, most likely lured by the sound of her gunfire. They looked different from the ones lying on the ground. Those, even if they didn’t look alive, still could’ve passed for men. The things in front of her had no spark of life left in them. They looked like raw meat that had been left to sit in the sun a little too long.

  The one closest to her lunged, forcing her back as she raised her dagger. Her thumb found the switch, but before she could fire off another blast of air magic, something yanked at her foot, and she was pulled off her feet. The world rushed by her in a blur, and her head hit the pavement with a sharp crack as she landed flat on her back. Her vision clouded for a moment before coming back into focus as she felt another tug on her leg.

  Coming to her senses, she quickly realized that the creatures on the ground, the ones with shattered knees and bullets in their brains, were somehow moving again. One of them wrenched Zephyr from her hand, so she reached for the shiny new dagger Skye had gifted her. It was still tucked safely inside her boot, well within reach. But before she could grasp the handle, her hands were jerked above her head as one of the creatures standing over her seized her arms, pulling her body taut as it fell to its knees and pinned her to the ground.

  The sharp clang of metal against stone followed by Taly’s scream echoed between the narrow walls. Another of those strange dead men had dug Zephyr into her side. It was a glancing wound, grazing the flesh of her hip and embedding the blade into the ground below. She thrashed and kicked, but the creatures had her pinned. The metal of her beloved dagger bit into her skin, ripping open the shallow wound.

  The creatures on the ground crawled over to her, their bony fingers groping at her skin and clothing. Several more of these strange undead men appeared on the street, staggering out of narrow alleys and side streets, and they crowded around her, their lips pulling back to reveal grim, decomposing grins as they watched her struggle. There was something almost familiar about some of them—something that tugged at tucked-away memories—but she couldn’t focus. Not with the sting of Zephyr at her hip and the stench of death filling her nose.

  Her body started to tremble uncontrollably. This couldn’t be it. She refused to die here.

  “No, no, no, no…” Taly whimpered, her head whipping from side-to-side. The dead formed a circle around her as they started pulling her to her feet. Why hadn’t they killed her already? What were they waiting for?

  Her side throbbed, and she could feel the warm blood spilling across her hip, soaking the fabric of her leggings and staining the cuff of her boot. One of the creatures grabbed her arm, wrenching it behind her at an odd angle, and she could already feel the bruises forming beneath its iron grip. It grabbed her other arm, twisting her wrist as she tried to vainly pull away and eliciting another sharp stab of scalding pain at the base of her palm.

  Just like before. Taly’s eyes widened.

  The familiar pain blossomed and spread beneath her skin as she continued to fight against her captor. Once again, her arm began to burn, setting her blood
on fire. She recognized this feeling. The bruises on her arm, the ones that had yet to heal after her encounter with the harpy, flashed brightly, flickering to life and shining with an angry violet light. Golden dust started rippling the air, dancing between her fingertips.

  That’s it! She clung to the pain, smiling as she felt it stretch and expand.

  “Stop!” she cried weakly. Like the harpy. The harpy had stopped. She had made the harpy stop. She thrashed as the undead soldier tried to hold her. Its grip never loosened, and it growled as it gave her a rough shake, its rotted breath fanning out over her face.

  “Stop!” More pain. There was so much pain now. She could feel the fire inside her, the flames lapping at the ends of her nerves, struggling to be set free.

  The other creatures were crowding around her now, grabbing at her clothing, tugging at her hair. Three more sets of hands seized her arms, and the creatures on the ground tried to pin her legs. They were strong. She could barely move, but she kept struggling.

  “Just stop already!” Taly screamed as the pain detonated, reverberating up and down her arm and coursing through her body until there wasn’t a single part of her that didn’t burn. She felt something inside her shatter, and then a rush of golden light exploded around her, branching out and curling between her attackers.

  The world went silent. The ash from the fires hung in the air, suspended, and the trails of smoke from the smoldering, burned-out buildings looked like smears of paint against a frozen landscape. The creatures around her had ceased their assault, their mangled bodies fixed in a ghastly portrait of pain. Everything around her was still.

  Time had stopped.

  Though her lungs were on fire and every breath felt labored and strained, it was easy to shake off the hands of her attackers now. Taly staggered forward, gasping as she scooped up her dropped weapons and squeezed her body between the crowded circle of motionless undead. She had no idea how long this would last—this strange hushed stillness—and she didn’t intend to wait around to find out.