“Heal that,” Two Elks said.
Dagbar reach down to grab a fallen by the head and chin and spun the head almost fully around with a sharp twist.
“We must remove the head of the snake if we are to survive this,” Dagbar said. “We must find Ashar.”
Ghile nodded. “I'll see if I can find some reinforcements first.”
He reached out with his mind. The part of him that was maintaining the force armor on the spiders tugged for his attention. He would not be able to search far, but maybe there were other spiders nearby. He felt the presence of six minds above him, approaching fast. Three were animal. Three were dwarves.
The cullers!
The battle must have attracted them. Ghile had hoped for more time.
Well, there was nothing for it.
He realized the other minds must belong to their griffon mounts. He tried to force his way into them. He hated to use the power Muk had taught him and shred a creature's mind, but they would not be able to fight three cullers, let alone three cullers mounted on griffons.
Something resisted him. It reminded Ghile of his own force shield, smooth and solid. Something was shielding the griffon's minds. He had to get a closer look.
“The cullers attack from above!” Ghile said. He charged into the few fallen who reached him and dropped each of them in turn with a thrust of the fangblade.
“I'm not liking these odds,” Dagbar said.
The dwarf swatted away the attacks from a human fallen. Instead of blocking the next swipe, he let it through. Leaning his head back, the hand past harmlessly before Dagbar's face. He then reached out and grabbed the wrist and twisted his body into the fallen as he guided the hand around him.
With a sudden change in direction, Dagbar extended his other arm and pinned the fallen's arm in an odd position. The fallen had no choice but to fly back in the new direction and crash hard to the ground.
Still holding the creature's hand in a locked position, Dagbar stepped down hard on the creature's neck. The dwarf's face looked pained and he pushed and twisted his foot one more time.
“Does battle upset your stomach, Dwarf?” Riff said, throwing another fireball into a tight group of fallen.
Dagbar released the dead fallen's arm and wiped his hands together. “No, I do not like fighting, young Master Riff.”
The flash of Riff's fireball lit Dagbar's somber expression. He pointed to the fallen he had just slain. “But, I like this fight even less. I knew that man. He was a once a farmer and a father.”
Riff looked down at the corpse, his expression losing some of its contempt. He nodded in understanding.
Dagbar patted Riff on the shoulder and moved closer to Gaidel and Two Elks.
Ghile was considering his options when he noticed the numerous bodies of the fallen were being pulled into the upheaved earth. He looked at Gaidel, who was still singing and swaying in a slow rhythmic pattern. Even lost in the song, she must have heard Riff's warning about the fallen healing themselves.
He closed the remaining distance between them and called to her.
“Gaidel, I need a way into the tower.”
He hoped she heard him. Ghile leaped high into the air, the sound of rushing wind filling his ears.
The others disappeared from his sight, lost in the mists.
Gaidel held on as the All Mother's Song thundered around her. She could feel the slap of the fallen's feet as they ran across her flesh, feel the dream mists as they hovered over the city like a wolf defending its kill. The mists saturated the song here, attacking everything else. No other plant life save the slime and other eaters of decay could be heard in the song.
Gaidel could hear the songs of her companions, all except Ghile. She could feel the elixir that Magister Dagbar had given them coursing through their veins, holding off the mists for a time. But it was a living thing, if not quite sentient, and she knew it would affect them once the elixir wore off. But unlike other living things, it refused to answer her call.
In the song, Gaidel could feel what the ground felt, taste what the wind touched. Through those sensations she felt the vibrations of Ghile's voice when he called for a way into the tower.
Gaidel lilted along the song, listening to the deep thrumming of the stone. The stones in this place had long since been taken from the earth and shaped into the needs of man. But even they still held a song. She changed her timbre and began to coax them to shift, to move. It was time for them to join the soil and clay once more.
Slowly at first, she felt one stone join her song, then another. She was the stone. She felt the tremors as she tumbled free and ended the song of more than a few fallen as they were crushed beneath her. She was the stone and had returned to the ground. Soon she would be covered in soil and she could rest.
A creature's discordant song died beneath her. She mourned the loss of those songs, she knew given time, she and Riff could have restored that song to balance.
Riff, why was that name familiar? She loved a sorcerer named Riff. She was Daughter Gaidel, of the Redwood Druids.
Gaidel fought her way up from the depths of the All Mother's Song. It was time to return to herself.
It was difficult to see, but Ghile could discern the wall of the tower as he flew up towards it. Using his force shield, he slowed his approach.
Reaching out with his mind, he touched one of the giant spiders and pulled a portion of the creature's life force into him. Ghile hands and feet affixed to the surface of the tower. He hung there, in the mists, the battle raging far below him.
The tower wall shook, undulating beneath him. He could hear stones crashing down somewhere below. Gaidel had heard his call.
Now to slow down the cullers.
He could sense them coming closer in a tight spiraling pattern. They would be close enough soon.
Images of Ast and Cuz herding sheep played through his mind. He saw the pride in his father's face when the two valehounds obeyed Ghile's commands for the first time. He imagined the look on that same face when he learned of their deaths. One of these cullers was the one responsible for the destruction of Last Hamlet. It was the images of Elana's and little Tia's face he saw as he sprung from the wall, using his force shield to hurtle forwards.
Ghile sensed the minds of the lowest mount and flyer as he closed on them. He knew just where to strike as they swooped down through the mists.
The fangblade cut a deep furrow across the side of the griffon's feathered head. The culler forgot to loosen the reins when he yanked his free hand back to protect his face. The sliced bridle tearing free was the only thing that stopped Ghile's strike from severing the rider's head. The fangblade sliced into the dwarf's upraised arm instead.
As it was, the blow sliced deeply and Ghile's momentum propelled him onwards. He extended force below him to slow his fall and hit the ground in a forward roll. Ghile spun around into a defensive stance.
He stared at the mists. When nothing appeared, he reached out with his mind, searching. The dwarves were not following him. The other two continued in the same downwards spiral.
Of course, they could not see through the mists any better than he could. They would not risk flying into something. More importantly, he could sense the mind of the griffon he had struck and it was no longer shielded.
The bridle!
He reached towards the griffon's mind. Without the magical protection of the bridle, it opened before him. He stayed there, just near the surface. He needed to see around him in case he was attacked.
The griffon was in terrible pain. The fangblade had bitten deep. For some reason, it was fixated on attacking its rider. It twisted and turned desperately trying to dislodge the dwarf.
Ghile could see through the griffon's one good eye as it turned and repeatedly snapped its beak down on the dwarf's armored thigh.
Pain lanced through the griffon's head as the dwarf's gauntleted fist slammed into it.
Ghile noted a hasty image appear in the griffon's mind. It knew it
was falling towards the ground, but the hatred it held for its rider even overruled its own sense of self preservation. Ghile could see memories of physical abuse and humiliation flash before him, feeding the griffon's rage.
Ghile saw the ground fast approaching and hastily withdrew from the griffon's mind.
He couldn't see where they crashed down, but the sound of the impact made him wince. He felt for the griffons, trapped and controlled by a powerful enchantment. Like his race, they were firmly under the control of their dwarven masters. This one had only just been given its freedom and had turned on its oppressor, sacrificing a chance of escape for a chance of revenge.
A white shape loomed above him. He cut it down with two quick slices and a thrust he delivered even as he turned to get his bearings.
He needed to get into the tower and confront Ashar. But, he didn't want to leave his companions to deal with the fallen and the two remaining cullers.
He felt the minds of the nearby spiders. He could only sense two of them. The other must have died. He could redirect them at the cullers. Would the fallen continue to attack the spiders or break away to seek him or worse, his companions?
He berated himself. There was nothing for it. He had to reach Ashar. He also had to accept the others would have to take care of themselves. They were here because they chose to be. He released the force shield armor he had over the spiders. He would need all his strength for what was to come.
Ghile leaped towards the tower.
He released his energy shield and dropped amongst a landslide of rubble. A pale light originating from a breach in the side of the tower revealed thick walls and stairs in the distance. Ghile didn't hesitate as he ran into the tower.
Finngyr watched as Knight Horth and his griffon tumbled downwards, disappearing into the mist. He had warned the stubborn knight not to abuse his mount. The griffon had attacked him as soon as his bridle was severed.
Served the beardling right.
Finngyr had been irritated when Horth dove into the mists, taking the honor of being first from him.
How had the stonechosen known about the enchanted bridles?
“Hold your course,” Finngyr shouted over his shoulder. The last thing he needed was Kjar flying off trying to help Horth and slamming into a wall. Knight Horth could heal himself, though he would most likely have to kill his griffon first.
Finngyr's hammer, a most holy relic of Daomur, vibrated in his hand. Holy light poured from its rectangular head. Well, there was no doubt they had found the stonechosen. Daomur was truly with him now
May he guide my hand.
He would not fail Daomur and he would not fail the Lord Knight Justice.
With a final beat of her wings, Safu set down in what appeared to be a large plaza. Finngyr could just make out lines of dark columns through the mists. But, he had little time for anything else.
A white abomination climbed up Safu's side.
Finngyr released the reins and grabbed the creature by the throat, hoisting it out to arm's reach.
Eyes black as pitch stood out in sharp contrast to the creature's alabaster skin. The thing's black tongue whipped about like a griffon's tail before finding his gauntlet and almost completely wrapping around it. He could tell the disgusting thing had once been a human female.
Finngyr crushed its neck until his gauntlet stopped his hand from closing further. He tossed the twitching body aside.
Nearby, a battle raged between these creatures and two giant spiders. White bodies littered the plaza and the remains of at least one dead spider. Finngyr used his knees to turn Safu in a quick circle so he could assess the battlefield. He held his hammer before him, concentrating on its light and the intensity of its vibrations.
Guide me.
A dull glow a short distance up the side of the tower caught his eye just as a humanoid figure made an impossible leap from below and disappeared into the exposed tunnel.
Knight Kjar landed next to Finngyr and immediately turned his griffon in the direction Horth had fallen.
“No. Follow me,” Finngyr said.
“But, Knight Justice-”
“That is an order. We are here to capture the stonechosen,” Finngyr said.
Finngyr urged Safu into the air, passing over the heads of numerous abominations who raised their pale faces to track him.
Safu closed on the tower.
Finngyr didn't look back to see if Knight Kjar followed. At long last, his quarry was in sight.
Another shape darted into the opening as Safu touched down just outside the hole. Stones and debris cascaded down the slope as the griffon fought for purchase.
He could tell Safu wouldn't fit through the opening and had already released the riding harness and was sliding down her side before she even had her footing.
Finngyr searched the mists behind him. Kjar was nowhere to be seen but there were more than a few pale shapes making their way over the rocks towards him.
There was no time to waste.
“Thank you, Safu. Remain here and guard this opening. Let none pass.”
With glowing hammer before him, Finngyr charged into the tunnel.
Horth tried to call for help again, but it choked off in a gurgle of hot blood that sent him into another fit of coughing. He tried to lean back, but the sharp uneven stones he lay on sent spasms of pain shooting through him.
He did not want to die like this, pinned under the body of his own griffon at the bottom of this human cesspit.
He reached once again for his hammer. Horth stretched out with his good hand and tried touching the handle. His fingers almost reached it. It was so close.
If he could reach the hammer then he could call upon the power of Daomur to heal him. But the cut from the stonechosen rendered his left arm useless. He glanced at it and the odd angle it hung at the forearm. His vambrace was the only thing keeping it attached.
Nausea washed over him and vomit surged up to sear his throat. He turned his head to vomit. The uncontrollable retching shot another spasm of pain through his ribs and the leg the wretched griffon had mauled.
His vomit was bright red. He didn't want to die here. Where was Kjar and Finngyr? They had been right behind him. How far had his griffon's thrashing taken him off course?
If he could just stretch out a bit farther.
A leather boot kicked the handle away just as his fingers brushed it.
Horth's vision was starting to go black around the edges, but he could see the young dark haired human who stared down at him.
“Remember me?” Riff said.
Horth tried to tell the human what he would do to him if he didn't give him his hammer, but all that came out of his mouth was blood.
Riff stood there watching him for a moment before raising his everflame.
Horth, Son of Harnuk, screamed as the fire washed over him.
32
Best Intentions
“Where are the others?” Gaidel said.
Two Elks could tell the little daughter had not fully shaken off the effects of the song. Her voice was firm, but the bond between druid and shieldwarden shared more than just the others direction. He could feel her exhaustion passing through the bond even if she refused to show it.
She held her staff before her as he had taught her, rear hand a span from the end of the staff and the other hand two spans above that one. Even in her weakened state, she was ready to fight. With that grip she could attack or defend, giving an enemy a false sense of her reach. She gave him much honor.
Two Elks pointed into the mists. “Riff go that way. Do not know where Dagbar.”
Dagbar had been there right behind him. He had not seen the dwarf since the large section of the tower had collapsed.
“Why did you let them go?” Gaidel said.
Two Elks just stared at her with a blank expression. She knew he would never leave her side when she was lost in the song. Two Elks often let the little daughter's questions go unanswered. It was his people's way to allo
w a person to think for themselves.
Instead she just looked irritated and changed the subject.
“Have you seen Ghile?”
The rush of wings and the clicking of talons on stone were all the warning Two Elks needed. He moved into Gaidel and pulled her low as he brought his kite shield before them.
The Little Daughter started to protest until she saw the griffon and its rider land a short distance away.
Two Elks recognized the helmet of the culler, shaped in the image of a screaming dwarf's face. This was the culler from the Cradle, the one who killed Lotte and Ghile's hounds. There would be much honor in claiming this one's ears.
“It's Ghile,” Gaidel said as she pointed towards the tower.
Two Elks thought he saw something near the opening in the tower, but the arrival of the second mounted culler drew his attention. The first culler was holding his glowing hammer up and towards the tower.
“They have seen him,” Two Elks said.
“We must help, Ghile,” Gaidel said.
Two mounted cullers. Two Elks had often wondered if he would have an honorable death since becoming a Shieldwarden and leaving his home. It seemed the Battle God smiled upon him this night.
“No enter song, Little Daughter. You are no strength. Use staff,” Two Elks said.
He rose into a running crouch.
Normally he would have called out the Battle God's true name and charged in, but he knew the little daughter could not fight a culler on her own. He had to try to even the odds quickly.
The two dwarves exchanged words before one took to the air towards the tower.
Two Elks heard Little Daughter curse behind him, but he took it in stride and adjusted his course towards the other mounted dwarf. The past was in the past. Ghile would have to deal with that one.
He had fought the cullers in the plains and knew the griffons they rode were deadly both in the air and on the ground. He had seen more than one of his people torn apart by those talons and sharp beaks.
As if the creature heard Two Elks thoughts, it swiveled its head around and screeched just as Two Elks leaped into the air and brought the full weight of his stone axe down on its skull.
Time of the Stonechosen (The Soulstone Prophecy Book 2) Page 33