Wings of Light Special Edition

by Lloyd Baron

  “Fire it,” Tarfleam whispers to himself, bringing a dagger from his sleeve into his hand so fast that it seems it is not there then there. “Why does he wait?” He backs up a pace and puts his hand upon Molly’s elbow, his order is simply to protect her. For her part she seems calm, but a quiver hits her now and then, and her eyes still stare as if seeing her father’s body everywhere she looks. Tye stands beside her, a pulsing light shining behind his eyes and a frown set on his features. He mutters to himself every now and then as if to answer unheard voices. Darwin’t watches him closely. The man seems to be slipping away from them, and from sanity.

  A thought flitters across his mind that only minutes before he had been listening to a voice in his own head, instructing him on how to use magic. He cannot help the smile that comes to his mouth but he forces it away. This is no time for letting his mind wonder. Not that he can be of much use beyond the shield that he has already fastened to each of them here. He begins to turn his head to look back up the ramp but stops himself. It is definitely not the time to be staring at Canace. He has said his goodbyes there and he will not see her again until they are in the caves, fleeing to Common.

  O’us spreads his wings and takes to the skies, dropping from sight, yet his voice rings out across the city – a call to flee and to fight.

  The Skaven pour onto the bridge and sprint towards Danlynn, awaits them with his single arrow. He waits. They charge forwards, filling every inch of the arched bridge, screaming for death. He waits. Riochald stirs beside Darwin’t, who feels a cool breeze around his legs. She clenches her fists. Darwin’t has to stop her. She has very little control over her gifts as it is, without lashing out in fear. He grabs her hand and pulls her closer to him. She yelps slightly and lets the power go. Whatever she was about to do, lost. She glares at him and pulls away.

  Danlynn pulls the arrow back and the tip of it glows a brilliant white, the Skaven falter in their charge, some turning back to flee as it is suddenly clear that the lone archer is more than a lone archer. He waits no longer. The bowstring thrums as the arrow leaves it, vibrating, and Danlynn reaches for another. Along the path of the first arrow a huge wind parts the air, forcing everything on the bridge away from it. Hundreds of Skaven fly into the air, screaming as they tumble out of sight. The wind also cuts through those not on the bridge: and when the arrow hits a wall on the far side of the river, there is not a single rat man standing. Those still left on the precipitous bridge parapet are stunned and on their knees. Some have broken limbs and wail in agony, and some do not move at all. Danlynn lets his arm fall without bringing another arrow from his quiver and wobbles a step back to them.

  “That was devastating!” he puts his hands on his knees and sucks air in through his teeth; trying to calm his nerves, Darwin’t would guess.

  “We need to move,” Fia says passing him with a pat on the back. Danlynn waves his hand to signal that he will be ready in a moment and then they are all moving. They break into a slow run as they cross the bridge and into the injured throng of Skaven. Even when wounded, these monsters tower above them and are much stronger. They grab for weapons and charge to meet them.

  Darwin’t does glance back then but his view is obscured by the Goblin Woman who he did not know was standing closely behind him. She gives him a hard stare and he snaps his attention back to the fight which is about to begin. The two small armies plough into each other.

  Fia swings his blade from his shoulder and carves a path through the rat-faced giants, grunting with the effort but seemingly having no difficulty felling the beasts. Chaz follows close behind; her slightly curved swords humming with each stroke and twirl. Even here, among all this death and blood she looks like a dancer, her blades an exotic addition to her high kicks and spins. Danlynn keeps his bow handy, but for the most part he keeps out of the way, letting those with more practical weapons take the lead. Riochald produces a dagger from her belt and leaps into the fray. He is so startled that he pushes into the mass of bodies himself, drawing the sword which until now had been a decoration for his belt. He swings and stabs, trying to forget that he is cutting into flesh, that the sudden stopping of his blade and the snapping sounds are bone. Even when blood sprays across his face, he tries to look away and see only his next target and not the corpse he has left behind. The Goblin Woman is there with him; her wicked long daggers with hooks at the tips and teeth along the blades rip and tear as she leaps and rolls, making high pitched shrieks with each strike.

  The press of bodies begins to lessen, as more and more of the Skaven fall. Tarfleam and Molly kick corpses over the sides of the platform to free up room for fighting; while Tye just stands and watches, muttering every now and then. Then there are no more. Fia raises a hand and they regroup behind him. He does not turn, but he seems to know that they are all still there.

  “You fight well, but it is far from over. We have a good deal of levels to fight through and you will begin to get tired.”

  Tye laughs, and everyone turns to look at him. He tries to suppress his mirth but fails and just waves them back to what they were discussing. Darwin’t cannot help but stare at the man. He is having a conversation with someone in his head. Not like the voice he heard, or Derry’n with Kloek. Tye’s grinning face twists and he looks so angry suddenly that Darwin’t looks away. The man is insane.

  The entire platform shakes and Fia spins to face them. It is as if the world has slowed around him. Molly screams and dives at Tarfleam, who grasps her tightly in his arms. The platform shudders. Fia charges at Riochald, who loses her footing and drops to her knees. Wood splinters everywhere. Chaz is thrown into the air. She lets out a piecing scream, and both Danlynn and Tye jump to catch her. Fire covers everything within his sight, wrapping around the shield he holds. They seem to hang there for a moment, the platform gone from beneath their feet.

  Time moves on. A huge black wing smashes through the platform. Everyone moves at once. Chaz screams; Fia bellows as he grabs for Riochald; Tarfleam sweeps Molly into his arms; Danlynn and Tye rush forwards. Fire engulfs them and the world drops away. Darwin’t tumbles through the air, thin branches scratching him as he falls. He strikes a thick limb and rebounds back into the open air. His body spirals as he plummets and he realizes that he is screaming. Canace. Her name enters his mind and he holds his breath. A lower walkway races up to meet him and he clenches his teeth for the impact.

  The fire had wrapped her in its blistering heat, but it could not reach her skin. It boiled along the shield Darwin’t had cast, cooking her like a slow roast. She can remember screaming as Fia leapt to grab her, but he had been too slow. The tip of the black wing had struck her shoulder and catapulted her sideways away from the fire and the screams of the others. She had fallen then, trying to summon something that might help her, but it was happening too fast for her mind to work. It must have been seconds from the first shake of the platform to her hitting the walkway below, she had seen Darwin’t tumble past her, screaming and Danlynn hurtled over the top of her seemingly unconscious as he did not make a sound.

  Riochald opens her eyes and tries to move. Pain flares up in her legs and she looks down at herself. Most of the upper platform seems to have collapsed down upon her. When had that happened? Had she passed out? Her legs are pinned by a large branch, and splinters of beams and smaller branches hold her left arm. She winces as she can feel blood wetting her clothes. A childish thought touches her mind and she grimaces but pushes it firmly away. How is she going to get out of this tangle?

  She cranes her neck to get a look at where she is and drops it down quickly, trying to hide a strangled yelp that had come to her throat. She is suddenly glad that she is covered from head to foot. Two Skaven slink only a few paces away from her. Both of them have their backs turned, though it would only take one of them to turn and study the mass of wood to see her. She has to do something.

  Flexing the fingers of her right hand, she tries to build the construct for push, a simple wind spell that, even with
her lack of concentration, she should be able to pull off. The image of three wavy lines inside a circle forms in her mind, and she firms it. Adding earth to the image, a square around the circle hardens the air around her hand. She will have only one chance at this. She directs the flow of energy and opens her hand. At the same moment one of the Skaven drops to its knee to inspect the walkway. The spell whistles over his head. The other is not so lucky and he hurtles through the air and out of sight.

  Riochald curses and screams as the remaining Skaven turns and rushes at her, pulling a rusty knife from its belt. Wind beats down over her head and she looks up as two white winged figures land either side of her. One of them flashes a bright white light into the eyes of the rat man while the other flaps her wings, as a gust knocks the Skaven backwards but not over the edge. It begins to regain its feet.

  “We must hurry, O’win,” the woman says, panic thick in her words.

  “I know, Wev,” he answers as he begins pulling pieces of walkway from her.

  The pain intensifies as they try to free her legs and she howls, sucking in air so shallowly that her vision begins to blur and her head feels like it is full of air. The Skaven leaps at them, thrusting his knife into the wing of the male, who screams and drops the branch. The Skaven snarls and pulls the blade back for another strike, but before it moves a huge triangle of metal splits through its head, cleaving a split all the way through until it falls in two halves. Fia Sharphorn drops his blade to the floor and grabs the thick branch across Riochald’s legs and lifts it free. “Pull her out,” he yells. The Angels attend to her, grabbing her under the arms, hauling her like a sack of potatoes from the wreckage. She puts her feet down and wobbles. Her head still feels like it has nothing in it. Fia sweeps over to her, and before she can stop him, plants his lips onto hers. Heat rises in her cheeks and she is all too aware of the Angels watching. She pushes him away, giving him what she hopes is a very strong scowl. The man grins at her foolishly. He grins!

  She glances down at herself and that childish thought pops back into her mind and she groans. Her clothes are wet but there is no blood. She must have wet herself and the man who has just given her first ever kiss is staring at her with a knowing look in his eye. Oh how she hates this man!

  Danlynn had seen this before; or something very similar to this in his dreams; a black dragon surrounding him with fire, him falling through the air to his death. He had thought it was a long while off; for one thing in the dream his hair had been longer; but as the limbs of the Great Tree rush past him he settles his mind peacefully with the knowledge that it will end soon. And then he hits the ground and his ribs shatter.

  He rolls around, the agony from his broken bones filling him. He grits his teeth not wanting to call out, but he cannot stop the sound coming from his throat. Tears stream down his face and he has to blink them away to clear his vision. He is alive. He had never reached the end of that dream. He assumed it meant that he would die. At that moment he would almost welcome the thought of death ending his pain, but he quickly forces that way of thinking away and pushes himself wincingly to his feet. Oddly he still holds his bow, and his quiver is still full of arrows. However, he does not know if he would be able to use it, as he can barley move his arms.

  He looks upwards, through the many branches of the city and is stunned to find that he must have fallen at least ten levels; he cannot make out the top of the tree. If it was not for a thick clump of leaves two platforms up he would be dead. He gasps and inclines his head to the side; hanging within that very tangle of branches is Chaz. She just hangs there unmoving. He casts his head about so see if there is a way to get up there, but all the ramps leading up have been crushed by falling debris. He groans, just moving his head hurts.

  “I think I can help,” Tye says dropping down beside him like a cat. Danlynn jumps and grabs his ribs as the pain flares within him. He stares at the man before him. He does not have a scratch on him and he seems completely fine. Then he remembers then that he and Tye had leapt to grab Chaz as she was knocked over the side of the platform, just moments before there was not a platform.

  “How come you are not all smashed up?” He asks returning his eyes to the problem of reaching Chaz.

  “I was. I think I should be dead, but they healed me.” The man walks around him all the while he watches Chaz.

  “Healed. You have an Angel with you. They can fly up there and get her down. She looks hurt.”

  “No Angel. The ghosts healed me.”

  Danlynn drops his eyes from the branches above him and stares worriedly at Tye. The man does not appear hurt at all; in fact he looks better than he did at the top of the tree; could ghosts have healed him? Tye frowns to himself and shakes his head. He then smiles as if someone had told him a joke and nods his head once before stepping away from Danlynn. Oh by the light, he is mad.

  Bright radiance engulfs Tye for a moment and he floats into the air. Danlynn is so shocked that he forgets the pain in his chest and follows the man until he reaches Chaz. He pulls her free of the branches and slowly lowers himself down. A few feet from the platform she wakes and begins thrashing around in Tye’s grasp. The man simply lets go of her, and she drops heavily onto the ground. “Is that any way of thanking us for saving you?” he asks. Danlynn is not sure he includes him in that “us” part. She brushes herself down and casts her eyes about.

  “Where are the others?” She asks with a worried frown. “Have you seen anyone?” He shakes his head, and instantly regrets it. “We should get moving. We seem to be near the base of the city. We fell all that way? We have the Creator’s own luck.” Danlynn smiles at that but she ignores him completely.

  Tye swaggers over to the side of the platform and drops to his knees, peering over the edge. He motions the others to come over but puts his finger to his lips. Danlynn follows closely behind Chaz as they slowly inch over the side and down upon a mass of Skaven. They stand guard over a gaping black hole in the rock. Danlynn gasps and is shocked to hear Chaz do the same. They had not fallen ten levels but all one hundred, for what they can see is the entrance to the caves and the way they must go.

  Tarfleam considers himself lucky. He had only dropped maybe a few paces and landed upon a support beam of the bridge, while everyone else had plummeted out of sight. He had even managed to keep hold of Molly as the ground exploded out from under them. The small teenaged girl clings to him as he makes his way down the levels, climbing for the most part, though sometimes they reach a level they can actually run around. It seems that the others have not been so lucky. Danlynn, Chaz and Tye have been thrown so far from the platform that he doubts they are still alive. That thought seems odd to him but his mind has turned cold, and he only desires to live and to protect Molly. Fia had jumped the other way most likely after Riochald. Good luck to the man; in both surviving the fall and in dealing with Riochald. Darwin’t he has not seen, nor has he seen what happened to the Goblin Woman that had been fighting with them.

  He stands now with his back to a thick branch as a few Skaven scramble over fallen debris on the far side of the platform they are on. A few Angels sweep across the sky, but he hides from them also. He does not want anything to draw attention to him or his charge. Something overhead in the gloom bellows and a thunderous shudder shakes the tree. Whatever Tak’arshi is doing he needs to speed it up and get himself and the others down here. He could do with his dark magic right about now.

  He glances around the branch and sees the Skaven drop from view. Now is his chance to move to the next platform and closer to the base of the Tree. He grabs Molly by the arm and drags her after him as he rushes to the far side, close to where the three rat-faced beasts had been. She does not protest as he leads her roughly. He does not know how long it has been since the fall but it feels like hours but he guesses that it must only be a few minutes. He pants with the effort of just controlling his fear and has to force himself to jump from the platform and grab a thick bundle of vines which hang over a long fall. The
y take his weight and he reaches out for Molly. She hesitates only a moment before grabbing his arm and swinging herself to the vines. They begin to climb down.

  The light through the thick canopy is getting darker. Night must be upon them. The thought makes him shudder, some parts of the tree are already dark, many of the levels have no lights at all, but the levels that are burning keep them from being completely engulfed in darkness. It is strange to be thankful that the city is on fire, but he will take any help he can get, even if it does mean homes burning to the ground. The tree rumbles again and the vine drops a few inches. He glances up but cannot see what they are attached to. “We should probably get off of this vine on the next level. I don’t know how long it will hold us.” Molly does not answer but she does pick up her speed.

  A high-pitched scream startles him and he almost lets go of the vine. Tarfleam looks behind him at a platform which is too far to step onto. A small child is curled up by the thick trunk of the tree, covering her face defensively with her hands as a large Skaven with a bloody gash down its face looms over her. Not knowing how, he leaps onto the platform and runs at the thing, he flicks the daggers from his sleeves and uppercuts them into the beasts neck. It grunts and swats him away like a fly. He tumbles to the edge of the platform but manages to stop himself from going over. What is he doing? This is not in his nature to go running in, being a hero. First he had climbed through the roof of the shrine and stopped the phantom; then he had stabbed Razzork in the throat instead of hiding and now he is fighting something twice his size which does not seem to feel pain. Tarfleam pushes himself to his hands and knees, bracing himself to dart in any direction when he sees Molly sneaking up behind the beast. What in the light is she doing? The girl touches the floor just behind the Skaven and tiny green shoots begin to tangle up from the wood. How can she do that? He shakes his head and almost laughs. He could have grown a pathway down for them instead of hiding and running.