by JD Franx
“What the hell are they?” she wheezed, just as Yrlissa reached her side.
Having taken Kyah back to the wagon, the assassin swore. “Bastard toldari!” Rapidly barking a spell, a wave of focused air slammed the male, rolling it back into the forest from where it came.
Yrlissa’s spell arrived seconds after two obsidian tipped arrows from Max’s bow sunk to the feather flights in the female toldari’s sagging chest.
Yrlissa screamed. “Again, Max! Until they fall!”
The ear-wrenching sound of twisting, grinding glass announced the draw on Max’s bow as the third arrow instantly whistled away, puncturing the forehead of the female toldari. Kasik took advantage of the chaos the arrows wrought by dragging Giddeon back to the rise and the protection of the others. Two more arrows whistled by overhead and the Northman glanced back in time to see each arrow enter cleanly through the toldari’s eye sockets, punching through the back of its skull as two small pieces of hair and bone spun away. The creature finally dropped. With no signs of the toldari getting back up, Kasik finished dragging Giddeon to the safety of the group.
He spun to see the second toldari return to the clearing from the forest and rushed to meet it head on. The long, razor sharp claws of the toldari’s left hand slid against his rune-forged greatsword. A piercing screech echoed across the plateau and a burst of colourful sparks danced along his blade as they passed each other in the middle of the destroyed camp. Underestimating the speed of the scavenger, Kasik winced as claws from the creature’s other hand viciously raked across his back as it passed, tearing through his chain mail armour and lacerating his back. Stumbling from the shock, he cursed the tearing spasm of agony, but recovered abruptly as the Northman’s seething rage tempered the pain. He pivoted. The toldari was right there, both of its claws spread wide for another attack.
A split-second hesitation by the creature gave Kasik an opening. Lunging forward, his sword punched straight through the monster’s throat and out the back of its neck.
Kasik’s anger brought forth an ancestral warcry as he powered the blade deeper into the toldari’s throat. Back peddling from the massive thrust, the toldari retreated until the point of Kasik’s blade sunk into the thick bark of a giant tree. The big Northman planted his foot on the creature’s chest. Pushing the male toldari down the length of his blade, he pinned it against the tree. It clawed at his face and chest, hissing like a Ghyreni viper. A powerful twist of the corded muscles in his wrists, and the razor-runed blade, still lodged in the bark, flipped vertical. Wood snapped and popped. Taking a deep breath, Kasik forced the blade up, cutting through the neck and chin of the toldari, coming to a stop between its eyes.
With the beast still kicking and fighting for life, Kasik tore the sword from the tree. Ripping it through the creature, he powered the blade down through its abdomen and out between its legs, slicing it into messy halves. The toldari dropped dead, nothing more than an obscene pile of gore.
Only then did Kasik notice the four arrows buried deep in its back. The perfectly timed distraction he needed earlier had been provided by Max’s unerring accuracy and power with his bow. He showed Max his thanks with a quick nod and stumbled from the wounds he received at the toldari’s claws. Ember raced to help, but he dropped to a knee before she got there.
Ember immediately forced him onto his stomach as she separated the remains of his chain mail and examined the wound.
“Giddeon! Yrlissa!” she yelled. They came her way but she didn’t wait, unbuckling the straps to Kasik’s armour. She pushed the chainmail over his head and opened his leather shirt, yelling again. “Is there any chance those things have poison claws?”
“Just bloody great,” Kasik mumbled. “Filthy bastard retches,” he continued cursing.
“Please try and relax, Kasik. Keep your heart rate down, all right?” Ember said.
“Yes, mistress,” he sighed sarcastically and closed his eyes to rest, like he had no cares in the world.
Yrlissa and Giddeon arrived and saw Kasik’s back had four deep claw marks. Each had black worms of festering poison spreading from them, growing darker and longer as they watched.
“What the hell…?” Giddeon said, stopping suddenly. “Dammit. I know that poison; it’s black burrow worm.”
“Burrow worm?” Ember asked, “What is that?”
Giddeon pointed to Kasik’s back. “Poison so called because it resembles black worms. It will eventually burrow its way to his heart and kill him.”
“How would the toldari get their hands on such an exotic poison?” Yrlissa asked.
“I have no idea,” he replied scratching his head.
“I have been an assassin for many times longer than you have been alive and though I have heard of it, I’ve never seen it, or seen it used. Ever,” she explained.
Kasik opened his eyes long enough to mumble. “We have, haven’t we, Giddeon? You know what you have to do, so get it done and get back to finding your son.” He closed his eyes and continued to breathe slowly.
Ember’s eyes grew wide as she began to understand what was happening. “There’s no cure is there?” she asked softly as she looked to Giddeon and then Yrlissa.
“No, not anywhere around here anyway,” Yrlissa replied to her question.
Giddeon rubbed his temples. “DormaSai would be the only country with a cure. Or the knowledge and means of making one anyway, and they would not help us even if we could get there. The king and queen are both practising necromancers. They don’t exactly believe in saving lives,” Giddeon explained. “This poison is one that only a necromancer can make. It’s a mix of magical plants and physical essence stolen from the Void between life and death—a place only necromancers can go. The plants used to make it have magical elements that guard against a cure, especially magic healing. We saw another necromancer use it years ago. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that this stuff came from DormaSai. That country is ripe with some of the nastiest magic ever spawned. Azmerak killed several people with it during the necromancer rebellions, and by many other means before we stopped him.” Saleece sat down beside Kasik and gently laid her face against his as they talked quietly.
Ember realized that they would have to watch one of their own die after everything they had been through. Panic lit up inside her belly.
“There has to be something we can do! Yrlissa? Giddeon?” she asked, glancing from one to the other. “This is Kasik we’re talking about, he’s one of us. There has to be a way... I could jump us to this DormaSai, just give me a picture of something there to focus on,” she pleaded desperately.
Yrlissa put her arm around her for support. “I am sorry, mai nahlla. It is too far to realm-jump. What you’re feeling is your Fae empathy. It is common knowledge that losing someone weighed heavily on their hearts and soul. Kasik is a friend, that makes it so much worse, I know. But there is nothing we can do, any attempts to heal him with magic will trigger the poison’s acceleration effect and kill him instantly. I’m sorry, but there is nothing we can do.” Ember shook her head, not knowing what else to say.
“Of course, there’s something you can do,” Kasik barked. Opening his eyes, he gave Saleece a kiss. “Stand me up, so I can face death like a Northman when you push that dagger into my heart.”
Yrlissa’s look of surprise made him laugh, he snorted. “What? You think these two should have to do it?” He chuckled, looking at Saleece and Giddeon. “Over twenty years we have fought, argued, and laughed together. I wouldn’t ask it of either of them unless I had to. But you...” he hesitated. “Killing doesn’t bother you. Guess I’m lucky we dragged an assassin along, huh?”
Bending over to help him up, Yrlissa nodded as the Northman regained his feet. “I understand. I’ll make it as quick as I can. It’ll still hurt, a lot,” she smiled.
“Of course it will. Pain cleanses the soul. Just make sure you burn my body with the others before you leave. I will not miss my place at Tyr’s banquet of heroes because you idiots can’
t burn a body right, got it?” he snapped, but it instantly turned into a laugh.
Ember shook her head, unable to take the banter any more. “This is insane. He’s not dead yet. You can’t do this, Yrlissa. The poison may not kill him. We don’t know,” she said.
Yrlissa ignored Ember’s pleas and quickly placed her hand on her dagger, but her eyes remained locked on Kasik’s. “You do not want to see him die of this poison, Ember, I promise you.” The blade slid from her sheathe with a dull scrape.
Ember screamed. “No!” A burst of bright white light rushed out from around her, knocking everyone down. Kasik landed face down at her feet.
Time stood still.
The wall that held back the knowledge of Ember’s Fae heritage crumbled within her mind. Only a few small pieces remained intact. She knew beyond any doubts exactly what she was and that she could save Kasik. The cost would be her own life. To those born of Fae blood, originally created by magic’s purest light for the sole purpose of helping others, there is no choice when saving a life, even if it meant facing death. To heal others, to ease suffering, or to give your life to save another is what it is to be Fae.
Ember knelt over Kasik and placed her hands over the claw marks on his back as the others lay motionless on the ground. The burrow worm poison retreated through the Northman’s body and he gasped from the pain. The poison broke through the surface of his skin. Curling around her fingers, the worms of poison quickly entered Ember through her skin and cored their way through her flesh, past her knuckles and hands, and up into her forearms.
Time suddenly caught up.
The long black worms of magical poison burrowed their way into her upper arms before disappearing under her clothing. Magic flowed back out of her hands uninterrupted and into Kasik’s body, healing the damage done by the caustic effects of the poison.
Ember healed the last of the poison’s damage to Kasik’s body and fell unconscious as Yrlissa screamed hysterically.
“No! You stupid girl.” The normally dispassionate assassin raced to Ember’s side and gently lifted her head. “You stupid, stupid, girl! How do I explain to Kael if you die? He will need you, nahlla,” she whispered as she held Ember tight. “I knew you were going to do that. Fight it!” she screamed. “Do you hear me, Ember?” Yrlissa put her forehead to Ember’s and her voice calmed. “You fight like you have never fought before. There is more at stake here than just our lives. We need you here in this world. Don’t you dare give up.”
With one lone exception ten years ago when her husband and little girl died, centuries had passed since Yrlissa had felt the desperate loss of someone so close. She had not cried in almost ten years and just like then, there was nothing she could do to help. Ember did not have the experience to fight through the poison’s effects and live. Her Fae healing would only prolong her suffering.
Max knelt at Yrlissa’s side. “How... How long does she have?”
Yrlissa shook her head. “She will die on this gods-forsaken mountain within the next four or five days.” Looking up at him she added, “I can’t help her Max. I...”
Kyah slowly made her way back over the rise and approached Yrlissa as she sat holding Ember. “I would like to help in any way I can... she did save my life.”
“Thank you, Niky, but no. I will watch over her until... until...”
“I understand.”
“Come,” Max offered, bending to help lift Ember. “I’ll take her to the wagon.”
He carefully carried her back down the rise to the wagon where Ember had started the journey north from Dasal days before.
Kyah couldn’t help but smirk to herself. Dead Healers could always turn a disadvantage around and infiltrate almost any group, no matter how smart the members were. The Dead Sisters always travelled dressed as the vested sisters of Mylla because it gave them free passage everywhere they went. This time the dress had saved her life and allowed her to easily insinuate herself into the ArchWizard’s group. It helped her find out that Kael’s little tramp of a wife was actually alive, a problem she could now easily remedy. If the stupid girl had not already killed herself, the smallest amount of magical healing would ensure her death and the Fae would cease to exist in Talohna once again.
Kyah’s mind was a whirl of everything she had discovered. A DeathWizard married to the only known Fae. The irony was almost orgasmic. She knew some of the gods had a twisted sense of humour, but it was obvious they were all playing at something very serious in the mortal world. Kyah smiled. She would make damn sure to be right in the middle of it when everything came to pass.
She smiled as she thought of the price her sister was likely going to pay for the ritual at the camp during the night of the massacre. Garz’x was expecting a heaven-bound soul. Unfortunately for Kyrce, Ember was still alive. It made for some interesting options for later. The powerful KiPara demon was not quite a god, but he was the uncontested overlord of the Nine Hells since he had killed the Archdemon Salotan. Besides Kael, Garz’x was the closest thing to a god the Dead Sisters had.
Kyah knew she wouldn’t have to pay the price for Ember’s soul not being delivered, so it didn’t really matter to her. Her sister’s body was not in the camp with the other Dead Sisters—neither was Voranna’s or Ashea’s. Kyah almost snorted out loud—the thought that three sisters, a ternion, had escaped Kael’s wrath didn’t go unnoticed. The irony was unbelievable. Fate? Perhaps, but more likely some gods’ twisted sense of humour.
Kyrce would eventually come to kill her, but maybe Garz’x would take care of that little problem for her first. It mattered little now. The turn of events had ultimately spun back in her favour, even if she had lost Kael for the time being.
As Max and Yrlissa helped Ember to the wagon, Kyah watched closely as Kasik sat and rested and Saleece and Giddeon burnt the bodies from the massacre. Both had to use large amounts of their power to turn the bodies to ash so that no other predators would move into the area and so there was no chance a death-flower field would take root. The toldari Kasik had cut in half and the one that had been riddled with over a dozen of Max’s arrows joined the pyre as well. Their tough hides required even more strain on the two wizard’s magical resources. Kyah smirked; it would leave both wizards weak for at least the next two days.
Finally completing what they had started earlier, Giddeon and Saleece returned to the wagon. Kyah moaned from her injuries as she crawled into the back of the wagon with Max’s help. Nodding her thanks, she sat beside Yrlissa and watched Ember closely as they headed back out across the trail and deep into the other side of the forest. They travelled several miles until they found a safe place to camp for the night.
Once their camp was set, Yrlissa checked on Kasik and told him he would recover most of his strength in a matter of days. Kyah stayed at Ember’s side, but Max refused to leave the wagon until Yrlissa returned. Travelling or sitting still meant little difference to Ember’s condition so they agreed to continue after Kael at sunrise.
Kyah frowned. Yrlissa refused to leave Ember’s side and Max watched over them both through the night. Her frown quickly turned inward and became a smile. She had plenty of time to get to Ember. It would take but a whisper and two words to activate the poison’s acceleration magic.
Yrlissa and Max had to sleep eventually.
AVELERA CITY
DEEP RIVER DOCKS
Kyro Yorcali leaned against the railing of the large wooden deck attached to the front of the harbour master’s building and looked out over the huge docking district of Avelera City. The massive Deep River was one of Ellorya’s most travelled waterways. Import and export vessels left and arrived by the dozens every day. Today, though, the sight was drastically different than any other. It made Kyro smile. Two hundred Elloryan Naval ships occupied or waited to occupy all fifty slips in the dock district. Supplies and two thousand blooded gladiators waited to board the ships to their new home—Dasal. It would take more than a day to load the two hundred and eighteen ships. The docks onl
y held fifty ships at a time and getting every man on board for the sail north took time.
“That is a sight I never thought I would see, Master.” Kyro turned to see two young men standing with Niko. He recognized one immediately, but the second did not look familiar.
“Kyro,” Niko said. “This is Alec Terraine, and Caavis Varius. Caavis was elected by all the gladiators to act as ambassador for them.”
“He was? Good. All right, Caavis, first rule. I am not your master and neither is any one else. You work for me, and once we arrive in Dasal, for my father as well. Because you work for us, you will be paid like any other army is. Housing, practise facilities, and meals will all be provided. I only ask that you make Dasal your home and help defend it if need be.”
“You are serious?” Caavis asked, disbelief riddled every word.
“I am. I’m also not a fool, Caavis. I imagine there will be plenty of you who run the first chance they get. I only ask that you tell your people to come to me if someone wishes to leave. They won’t be punished, and if they really want to leave, perhaps arrangements can be made to help them. Though, I promise you, most of you will love the city of Dasal, but I won’t force anyone to fight for her.” Kyro chuckled.
Caavis nodded. “I believe there will be few problems. You have already agreed to bring along the families of those who have them.” Pointing to the line of men waiting to board the ships, Caavis smiled. Several gladiators were holding wives or children. “You have reunited some families who haven’t seen each other in years. If you continue this treatment, this respect, almost every man will stay and defend our new home, and they will be happy to do it. Fighting for a worthy home is better than dying for the glory of the arena. Thank you, Master Yorcali.”
“You are all welcome, but please, call me Kyro. You and your men are not slaves, Caavis. You have no masters, only employers, and I hope some day, friends. Go back to the gladiators. I want every one hundred men to have an elected leader. Preferably a man respected and looked up to in battle. It’ll make things easier going forward.” He shook Caavis’ hand and turned to the other man. “Mr. Terraine. You were interesting to watch in the arena.”