by Shelley Cass
“I want to tear. To rip. To feel the slick of hot blood in my hands,” Angra whined after a moment. “I could slaughter even just Agrudek if you just sent me there, and then disappear before anyone even knew.”
Darziates really only wanted little Agrudek alive to satisfy his own want for information on the Larnaeradee now. He was restricted to obtaining only snatches of information, so that she did not feel the dark magic and suspect. But those snatches gave Darziates new purpose. And a slight thawing feeling at the pit of his numb conscience, similar to times when he had felt traces of human emotion in the beginning.
In an uncharacteristic motion Darziates touched a hand to a vague ache in his chest as he thought of her.
“Or I could join the Evexus as they go to search out the place where the Jenrans will appear!” Angra launched off again excitedly. “I could go instead of the Witch,” he almost snarled. “We both know she is hardly fit to serve you. Weak. Failing again and again.”
“Angra,” Darziates said softly, and the Warlord stopped ranting once more. “Have I not already given you much?”
Angra’s shoulders slumped. “Yes,” he growled sulkily. “You’ve given me war.” He nodded to himself, an eerie red glint in his eyes. “I do like that.”
Darziates glanced past his Warlord then, towards the door to the throne room as he felt Agrona’s approach.
She flinched at his hardly perceptible look of mild annoyance, feeling the true power behind it as she stepped through the doors.
“Yes?” he saw her shiver at having been addressed.
“My King, the Rucksha have returned,” she told him.
He’d already felt that and dismissed it unconsciously for himself.
“And,” she smiled, hungrily eyeing him. “They’ve brought something back.”
“Well? What is it?” Angra burst out impatiently, throwing more spittle in her direction.
Her expression became poison as he polluted her moment with the King.
“It’s a Nymph,” she informed Darziates.
Darziates reached out with his mind to pin point where the being was.
Agrona was brimming with self-importance. “It’s hardly alive after being dragged through the earth in the arms of the boulderman,” she crooned. “It’s being kept under guard near the training grounds where the Rucksha resurfaced. But all of its magic is going into breathing at the moment.”
With a withering look to silence her, Darziates took a claw like grip around her arm and blurred them through the Other Realm to cut out the time it would usually take to walk to the training grounds – a feat she was hardly capable of without his support.
Angra roared in jealous anguish as they disappeared through a portal of fire and menace, but the Sorcerer had forgotten him a moment later when he and Agrona arrived in the midst of a small group of curious soldiers crowded around the tiny, prone figure struggling to breathe in the dirt.
“It feels so … pure …” one of the men was saying.
But in the instant that the darkness of Darziates touched them again, the group of soldiers assumed blank expressions once more, lowering their eyes and stepping out of their King’s way to reveal the Nymph.
It was nearly completely crushed by its journey through the solid earth, already practically dead, and it had hardly any recognisable features left.
Agrona stared up at him expectantly.
“This thing is useless,” the Sorcerer stated blankly. “It has only moments left, and hardly a flicker of magic.”
“No!” Agrona cried. “We can get some information from it to please you yet!”
Red smoke curled about her fists and, with a blast, she forced her magic into the Nymph to make it wake.
Its body became rigid, and with a great effort the Nymph’s eyes opened as wide as narrow slits. The thing’s whole dust covered face was blown up disproportionately with swollen bruising and cuts.
At once it let out a rasping moan and only the Witch’s magic kept it from going into convulsions of shock and back into unconsciousness.
“You waste my time,” Darziates rebuffed the Witch. But without so much as moving a finger, Darziates swept the Nymph’s broken body up into the air so that they all heard the loose bones rattling together inside its skin.
“Welcome back to the outside world,” he calmly addressed the tortured Nymph then, while Agrona scowled sullenly. “You should have stayed hidden,” he told it. “But instead you will perish as an example to those who threaten our world. An example to demonstrate that no force can make my Quest falter. Especially not the force of a Forest dweller’s pure magic.”
With that, the Nymph was released from his power to hurtle down to the ground again, snapping its neck. Which had been one of the few intact parts left in its body.
Darziates turned and blurred back through time to be seated in his throne as if he’d never left.
He found Angra Mainyu growling and spasmodically ramming his head into a wall – releasing pent up frustration. Losing pieces of his soul was taking its toll.
“I intend to send another Dragon to Awyalkna Palace,” the Sorcerer interrupted his Warlord.
“May I go with the Dragon? Hurt Queen Aglaia? You’ve sent so many and they haven’t done true damage!” Angra mumbled, sagging forward against the stone wall.
“No.” The Sorcerer almost showed the flicker of a smile in the very corner of his mouth. “We want subservience, not complete destruction.”
“Arrhhgg!” Angra clubbed the wall with both fists and his forehead.
Chapter Eighty One
“Coming close to catching that last Dragon with those steel nets was a stroke of genius Your Majesty.” Wilmont’s voice seemed somehow slippery as he approached her throne when the citizens’ reports were finished.
“I wonder though,” he mused. “How would we fare against more than two of Darziates’ Dragons, now that Dren and his Dragon slayer archers are gone?”
Aglaia noticed her body automatically angling away from where he stood to the side of her throne, and she realised that he set her nerves on edge even more than the regular attack alarms did.
“So far, fortunately, the Dragons have been content to focus on battering the City rather than completely destroying us,” Aglaia responded after a moment.
“Yes,” Wilmont smiled silkily. “Let us pray to the Gods that they do not become more serious in their intent.”
She gripped the armrest of her throne. “As always Awyalkna will fight for survival,” she told him. “Thank you for your concern, and your visit.”
She turned her attention to the soldier Friendly then, who always stood guard at her side.
“Of course, Your Majesty,” Wilmont made a slight bow and retreated.
“You have developed sound strategies to cause the Dragons as much pain as they cause us,” Friendly told her, frowning at Wilmont’s embroidered back as he left the hall. “Beyond that, the entire population is doing its best to fortify the Palace.”
“You are quite right, Elan,” Aglaia smiled, and she leaned back into her throne, twisting a golden, ivy design ring around her finger as she thought. “And the wildly spreading stories of the ‘Raiden’, Noal, the ‘Larnaeradee’, and magical ones who could be helping Glaidin’s army, have all fuelled the energy of the Awyalknian people.”
Even as she began to feel somewhat reassured, a panting sentry crashed through the doors and ran across the hall towards her as if Darziates himself was following.
The sentry came to a skidding halt just before the dais and clutched at a stitch in his side at the same time as hurriedly bowing.
“Majesty …” he panted laboriously. “Word from …” another big breath. “The Gwynrock Wall …” and another big breath. “They said … there’s something … that wants to see you … They couldn’t stop it …”
“What is this ‘it’?” Aglaia questioned alertly. In such strange times it could be anything.
But suddenly there came startled exc
lamations from the men guarding the hall doors.
Then a voice, almost like a child’s, carried into the hall to answer Aglaia’s question.
“It,” the voice said, “is a Nymph. And,” it continued, “its name is Asha.”
Aglaia, Friendly and the sentry watched open mouthed as a childlike being with flaming red, floating hair came into view – flying through the hall doors.
“Gods,” Friendly uttered as Aglaia rose.
Aglaia could already hear a babble of voices from the many onlookers outside who had spotted this creature flying across the City to the Palace. And now, in the blink of an eye the creature had whirled to a stop, hovering just above the head of the amazed sentry.
Asha ignored him and gave a delicate bow to the Queen. Despite the traces of many bruises across her enchanting features, the Nymph emanated such an indescribable feeling of goodness that nobody questioned if she might be a creature of Darziates.
“I have been sent by King Glaidin with news, as I’m faster than normal messengers,” Asha spoke then. “The King also thought that seeing a Nymph would give your Kingdom further hope.”
Aglaia blinked and removed the stunned expression she could feel covering her face.
“Well met Asha,” Aglaia told the little being. “You are very welcome here.”
“My thanks,” Asha replied. “I hope you don’t mind if I make myself at home then. I’m exhausted.”
The Nymph promptly buzzed toward Friendly’s chest, and he automatically caught her as if she had been thrown at him in a game of catch.
“I just need a brief sleep on the way to your conference room to recharge,” she explained, squishing the muscles of Friendly’s arms in a satisfied manner and resting her head so that she looked like a babe in a cradle. “Might as well nap with something handsome to wake up to.”
“Of … course,” Aglaia agreed as Friendly gaped at his Queen and then at the cherubic looking, infant sized being.
“You are Queen of a land absolutely brimming with gorgeous men,” Asha informed Aglaia, closing her eyes. “Wake me when your Council are gathered,” she added, and then abruptly fell into what seemed to be a deep and peaceful sleep.
Friendly gave Aglaia a bewildered look, and Aglaia couldn’t help but laugh at the strangeness of it all.
Chapter Eighty Two
“You’re that old?” one of the Awyalknian Generals asked in shock when Asha had finished speaking.
“And Darziates harmed your people too,” Asha’s man-bed, Friendly, commented solemnly.
“Those … Ogre things,” another General gasped. “Four of them, really killed or wounded one hundred and ten men and thirty horses, wrecked a wagon, and took one of your own kind?”
Asha’s red coloured eyes were hard. “As I said, minimal damage considering the circumstances.”
Everyone around the table flinched then when the Nymph suddenly shot into the air, leaving the nest she’d made against the chest of the startled Friendly.
She hissed through pointed teeth, and the burly Generals gaped at her while she hung in the air as if listening to something. Then she brought her red eyes back to the captivated gathering.
“I seem to be becoming a regular warning system,” she said in a low voice. “But you have an enemy on its way.”
“A Dragon?” Sumantra asked urgently.
Asha nodded. “You have only moments.”
“Let’s move!” Sumantra galvanised the room, and at once there was a flurry of action so that soon the Palace guards were sounding their horns and the City was full of people racing through the descending night.
Asha rode with Friendly as they galloped at breakneck speed through the City towards the Gwynrock Wall, and she saw ordinary citizens helping to stretch nets out between streets or putting catapults into position.
She saw Aglaia tense as the City was rocked even by the distant roaring of the fast approaching Dragon.
With growing resolve Asha broke from where Friendly held her before himself on the saddle and hurtled up into the air to see the Dragon become visible at last. Like an immense shadow from the Other Realm, swooping quickly forward.
It careened closer and released a plume of explosive fire into the Eastern Gate, and Asha heard the distant yells of those who had been thrown by the force.
Asha frowned as she watched her fellow air treader rampage onward, because she knew that the corrupted Dragon could easily have torn apart the entire City. Instead it simply antagonised the people and left a trail of damaged rubble, a mindless beast twisted by Darziates to forget all wisdom, its clan, and its allies.
The Dragon roared as a flaming arrow grazed its wing now, and it swerved to avoid getting scratched by the new spikes lining the Palace towers. Instead it thumped its tail into the pavement below and sent a dozen citizens, who had been hauling rocks at it, flying through the air.
The Dragon seemed to like that, and flew low along the pavement, swiping at screaming crowds with its claws. But it got a surprise when suddenly a thick, steel woven net was pulled up and stretched between two buildings in front of it.
It couldn’t stop in time, ploughing straight into the trap and getting entangled.
It snapped its jaws furiously, tearing at the net to get free as people rushed forward to swarm it, jabbing with weapons that enraged it further.
Asha winced when an impatient burst of flame obliterated two men and a young woman in a moment and the Dragon gave up thrashing violently, seeing that the net was too strong to break free of. Instead, the beast began walking forward so that the net stretched and then tore away from where it had been tied to the two buildings.
Some people were crushed under its feet and those not fortunate enough to have let go of the net when it came loose suddenly found themselves being dragged into the air as it stretched its wings under the loosened steel weaving. It lifted off and then shook itself free of all hanger-ons.
Asha spotted a soldier manning an unloaded catapult, and flew in a blur of speed towards him.
“Are you very good with this thing?” she asked, and her fast arrival seemed to surprise him and the men stationed at the catapult more than the presence of the Dragon did.
He quickly nodded. “Aye, but I can’t shoot boulders at the Dragon until it flies higher and past the walls, or loose rocks will fall into the City.”
“I’m not a boulder,” Asha grinned. “This catapult could throw me into the Dragon with a greater ferocity than I could achieve by myself.”
The soldier was taken aback. “You would be killed. I won’t throw you.”
She crossed her arms as, in the distance, a giant fireball caused an explosion amongst three houses. Flaming people ran from the area with echoing screams.
“Shouldn’t we give anything at all a try?” Asha turned back to him. “More Awyalknians will be killed if you don’t. And besides, I’m stronger than I look.”
The soldier watched in horror as next a horse was ripped from a stable and tossed into the air, before the stallion was caught in savage jaws to be chewed up loudly.
She didn’t give the man another moment to think on it. Instead, she flitted to his weapon belt and took the sharp dagger hanging at his hip. With no effort whatsoever her Nymph fire exploded to life in her palm and licked along the blade. “I’m not going to ask again,” she told him.
He nodded and swallowed, beads of sweat forming along his brow.
“Aim for its wing the next time it flies by,” she ordered the soldier grimly, settling into place on the massive siege weapon. “I’ll do the rest.”
And it was only moments before the beast began circling back towards them, this time with a man dangling from its teeth by his leg. The man shrieked as he was carried upside down over the City.
“Good fortune!” Asha heard the soldier call mournfully to her, and an instant later she felt the catapult release and she was being flung at top speed towards the oncoming beast.
She forced her body to tear through the
air without spinning, holding her arms and the fiery dagger out before her head so that she was like an arrow launching towards the outstretched Dragon wing.
She took a great breath in anticipation before colliding with the leathery flesh of the underside of the wing. She impacted where the wing attached to the Dragon’s body, and she embedded the soldier’s blade into the meaty joint so deeply that smoke issued from the wound.
Only her magic had enabled the blade to pierce the thick flesh at all, and the Dragon dropped the screaming Awyalknian man, roaring so thunderously in agony and surprise that Asha felt her eardrums pop warmly in her head.
Asha grimly forced the blade in deeper and then kicked her feet away from the colossal, scale covered body so that her weight tugged against the dagger and the fiery blade dragged along the inner wing flesh, slowly slicing through the wing’s length.
She could vaguely make out the great noise that the Dragon was making, but her ears hadn't healed yet, so the deafening sound was muted. However she could most definitely feel the violent air acrobatics the Dragon was now performing to throw her off.
The City blurred sickeningly and Asha caught flashing glimpses of starry sky, buildings and then ground as the Dragon spun desperately to loosen her grip.
Asha clung on determinedly, her Nymph fire curling up from the blade to circle her arms, and she allowed the Dragon’s own motion to pull her further along so that the dagger burned its way to the tip of the now split wing.
Then with one more jerk Asha and her dagger were dragged free, and Asha was sent spinning away from the Dragon in a ball of her own fire.
She was caught across the chest by a lash of the seething beast’s tail as she whirled away, and her fire went out as she smashed into the rock of the Gwynrock Wall – landing conveniently close to where the Queen of Awyalkna and her soldier watched on in horror.
Aglaia rushed forward, her lips moving, and Asha heard two popping sounds and shook her head as her ears burst back into the action.
The Queen’s Friendly soldier scooped her up with an aghast expression on his face, and as he lifted her she saw the now lopsided Dragon disappearing into the darkness as cheers rose from the City below.