Chronicles Of Aronshae (3 Book Omnibus)

by J. K. Barber

  “That is the last person you will ever hurt!” the Avatar’s resonant voice boomed in the night. Lowering her staff, the glowing disk of energy that hung in the air before her dissipated. Pointing the rune-carved length of wood at the dragon that dwarfed her size, Akor’shi-kai released a shaft of energy which plowed into the chest of the massive dragon. Unlike the bolt of electricity that her draconian adversary had loosed against Talas and Olivia, the Avatar’s attack was not a flash of immense energy that was soon gone. Akor’shi-kai’s assault struck Walron’s body with such power that sand and pebbles for many paces around the dragon were thrown up into the air, and the enormous creature staggered back slightly. The assault did not end there, however. More and more energy poured out of the Avatar’s staff, continuing to push the dragon back. Despite the alien face of the dragon, Talas was certain he saw an expression of surprise and then panic flash across Walron’s features, as he scrambled for purchase on the rocky ground. His giant talons dug furrows into the stone as he was pushed further and further back, towards the edge of the butte.

  The dragon spared a fleeting glance over its shoulder at the approaching precipice and then extended its wings. A howl of pain echoed forth from Walron’s jaws as he tried to spread his ruined wing. He quickly folded it back against his body in agony.

  Realization as to what Akor’shi-kai intended hit Talas, as he crawled across smoking ground towards Olivia’s still form. The priest prayed with each inch he crept forward that his wife still lived, but he was brought up short by the sound of a horrible noise.

  The scraping of thousands of tiny insect legs across sand and stone reached Talas’ ears, drawing his attention away from Olivia’s still form. A blanket of blackness poured up from the ground around him and rushed across the butte towards Akor’shi-kai. Several of the fist-sized scarabs crawled across the priest on their way to the Avatar. Talas threw the insects off of him, only to have them land a few feet away and continue on their inexorable path towards the Ice Queen’s adversary. The swarm of scarabs ignored Olivia and him completely.

  “My pets dealt with my old teacher well enough,” Salamasca called, her voice smug. “I think they’ll serve to deal with the likes of you, Avatar.” The dark sorceress’ voice twisted Akor’shi-kai’s title as though it was a foul tasting morsel in her cold mouth. Talas saw the tall woman, the embodiment of the Great Mother’s will, look towards the approaching carpet of chittering chitinous creatures and the bar of solid energy that was pushing the dragon towards its death faltered for a moment.

  Not now, Talas thought. Not when we are so close. Come on! he shouted mentally.

  As if in answer to his plea, a flash of white streaked across the priest’s vision and disappeared over the wall of boulders that stood between the Illyanders and the Ice Queen. A heartbeat later Salamasca yelled in frustration, her scream answered by the piercing screech of an owl. Bluish-purple bolts of electricity flew wildly into the sky as the unhinged sorceress called out. “Get away from me!” she spat. Suddenly, the arcs of energy stopped. “Flee, you tiny insignificant creature. If you weren’t so far beneath my notice….” The Ice Queen’s voice trailed off as she realized that Iluak’s attack had only been to buy Akor’shi-kai time.

  The Avatar put the distraction to good use. The towering woman reversed her grip on her massive sword and drove it into the ground. As the blade sunk into the solid stone beneath her feet, a ring of blue-white, electric fire sprang forth, encircling Akor’shi-kai out to a distance of several paces. The scarabs that were caught in the initial blast exploded, the popping noise of their tiny bodies bursting reminded Talas of the sound of a hard rain on a wooden roof. The clatter did not end there as thousands of the insects poured blindly forward into the circle of fiery death at the Ice Queen’s behest.

  The scarabs dealt with, Akor’shi-kai returned her full attention to Salamasca’s draconic ally. The Avatar leaned forward slightly, taking her staff in both hands, redoubling her efforts to push the massive dragon to his death. Walron looked at Salamasca, his claws scrabbling for purchase on the stony ground. He had a disturbingly recognizable look of desperate pleading on his draconian features as his hind legs slipped over the edge of the butte into the yawning emptiness below him. The cacophonous scrapping sound of talon on stone suddenly ceased, and a hauntingly human-like wail of terror sprang forth from the dragon’s maw. The deafening sound was so loud that Talas began to raise his hands to his ears but stopped halfway; the shriek retreated quickly. Talas heard the dragon fall to its doom below, its death-scream fading as it plummeted down. There were perhaps three heartbeats of quiet and then the stone itself shook beneath him, such was the massive dragon’s impact far below.

  Salamasca cried out, a strange mix of anger, frustration and… sorrow? Does the Ice Queen actually feel something for someone else? Talas wondered, as he once again began dragging himself towards Olivia. Concern for his wife drove the inquiry from his head.

  “Why does everyone always break my toys?!” Salamasca cried, her voice now petulant.

  “Because,” Akor’shi-kai spoke, her voice deep and resonant, but unmistakably feminine, “you are incapable of doing anything but destroying or corrupting everything around you.” The Avatar’s voice shifted strangely with its last words. Talas heard three distinct voices speaking in unison and the priest was certain he heard Sasha and Katya’s tones intertwined with the Avatar’s. “Tonight your festering presence will be removed from the Great Mother’s creation. Tonight, we will end your putrid influence once and for all.” Akor’shi-kai pulled her sword from the ground at her feet and advanced towards the Ice Queen, her feet stepping lightly as she vaulted from boulder to boulder, until she finally stood atop the rampart of broken rock and debris.

  “I think not,” the Ice Queen said defiantly and suddenly there was strange sound, as if of great tattered sails blowing in a tempest. A huge figure barreled into Akor’shi-kai, knocking the Avatar from atop the wall of tumbled stones and onto her back. Her silver breastplate threw up sparks as she slid backwards for many paces, finally skidding to a halt up against the rock outcropping, where the twins had hidden before the fight. From his vantage point next to Olivia, Talas could see the Avatar lever herself to her feet. Dark gashes marred the front of her silver breastplate; the normally vibrant green ivy etched into the armor was turning slightly brown along the edges of the leaves. As Akor’shi-kai regained her feet she took a moment to concentrate and the rents in her breastplate healed over, the full verdant color returning to the living ivy engraved into the silver.

  Another shape streaked into view, just as large and as dark as the first, striking out at Akor’shi-kai. This time the Avatar was prepared, and she raised her ash wood staff to block the blow. As glowing runes along the shaft flared in response to the assault, the creature attacking Akor’shi-kai was briefly illuminated.

  Unmistakably draconian, this beast was different from the Ice Queen’s mount. Not as large, though easily the size of a small cottage, the dragon’s scales were a sickly green hue, the color of rotting plants shot through with veins of bluish-white. Talas was reminded of the pale faces of Salamasca’s Shadow Walkers. His heart stopped for a brief moment in his chest at what the color implied.

  “She raised… dead dragons,” he whispered to himself, trying to rise. “Great Mother, preserve us. She’s turned dragons into… Shadow Walkers.”

  As if hearing the priest’s whispered words, a gloating cackle sounded out through the chill night air. “I will not be destroyed,” she cried. “Not by you! Not by anyone!” she shouted triumphantly. “Come my pets,” the Ice Queen beckoned to her foul creations. “They have had their try. It is time we were on to more important tasks.” As Talas staggered painfully to his feet, he saw Salamasca throw her leg over the outstretched and lowered neck of yet another dragon. This one had scales of a darkened brown like the remains of a rotted log, though they appeared to be as hard as stone. Again, the dark russet color was intertwined with veins of the s
ickly pale-blue color of frozen flesh. As the great creature lifted into the air, carrying the Ice Queen away, a sliver of darkness, even blacker than the night sky, opened before the corrupted dragon corpse. The monster and its rider disappeared into the Void beyond. Two more putrid green draconian shapes followed the fleeing sorceress, vanishing before the priest’s eyes. The rent of nothingness closed abruptly behind them.

  Talas turned towards where Akor’shi-kai stood. The Avatar’s eyes were fixed on the point where Salamasca had disappeared into the Void, a slightly bewildered look on her unearthly beautiful face. As the priest watched the tall female, her white hair flowing in the night wind, her eyes slowly fell until she looked at Talas. As he looked into her blue-green eyes he was, for one brief moment, reminded of a lost child. But her look of confusion turned quickly to pain, as her pink lips pressed together in a grimace. She dropped her staff and sword, and as each weapon struck the ground it shrunk, resolving into the familiar shapes of Sasha’s blade and Katya’s staff. Akor’shi-kai fell to one knee, her sword and staff forgotten as she clutched her hands to her chest. Talas stood and took a shaky step forward but stopped as a strange moan came from the Avatar. Her fingers clawed at her breastplate, rending it in half. The tearing did not stop there, though. The cry of the Avatar split into two voices, just as the Avatar herself slowly, painfully split into two small figures. One was red-tressed, clad in a polished breastplate and bracers; the other, raven-haired, wearing long dark robes.

  Katya and Sasha stood panting, looking at each other incredulously. The sorceress leaned down to retrieve her staff while the warrior leaned back against a boulder stone. Both twins were obviously exhausted. The once gray streaks in their hair were now a pure white and there were more of them; further evidence of the toll that the Great Mother extracted from the twins.

  “That was…,” the swordswoman said weakly.

  “Hard,” Katya finished. “Harder than it was before.”

  “Harder than it should have been?” Sasha asked.

  “I… don’t know,” the sorceress said, hesitant. She looked as though she wanted to say more, but then stopped as she looked around her.

  As abruptly as the night’s quiet had been shattered by Katya’s opening volley of sorcerous power, the silence of failure quickly closed in around the Illyanders. A quiet moan came from Olivia’s prone form, and Talas uttered a prayer of thanks to the Great Mother for his wife’s continued existence. His wounded legs buckled under his weight and he barely caught himself before he fell to the ground beside Olivia. He could not keep from groaning in pain, which drew the attention of the sisters. Helping Sasha to her feet, Katya used her staff to hobble her way over to where Olivia lay unmoving. The swordswoman assisted her sister in sitting and then helped Talas down so that he could sit beside his wife, as the sorceress tended to Olivia’s wounds.

  A snowy white owl landed a short distance away and morphed into the tall slender and naked shape of Iluak. Blood from a dozen small cuts marred the right side of the therianthrope’s handsome face.

  None of the Illyanders said a word for several minutes. The implications of their failure weighed too heavily on their tongues to speak.

  “At least we killed her dragon,” Iluak finally said, his tone one of forced cheer.

  Talas looked up from where Katya’s glowing hands passed over Olivia. “Small comfort,” the priest said to the therianthrope. “We now know she now has three more, and they’re already dead.”

  Chapter 8

  The desert winds blew gently around Katya, as she stood at the top of the protective buttes overlooking Simza, the area taking the name of the tribe residing there. She surveyed the area, her dark eyes keen and thoughtful. The impressive camp, containing hundreds of tents, formed the itinerant village, and it extended throughout the entire valley below. The village itself had been in this location for over a year; the valley sheltering its people from sandstorms but more importantly there was the oasis at the far end that provided precious water. In speaking with a few of the locals while Olivia negotiated a place for them to stay for the night, Katya found out that the overwhelming size of the tribe had prevented smaller tribes from laying claim to the area or causing war over the oasis. The sulta did trade their water with other tribes, but at a great cost, giving Simza a wealthy reputation.

  Lanterns were being lit by the inhabitants, more and more of the tents beginning to glow with their soft light and fantastic patterns created by the decorative glass common to the Eastern style of lamps. Katya spotted Jared far down the path coming towards her, barely a speck in the distance, but she recognized his familiar wolf-like lope. Take your time, she thought and thanked the hunter silently, noting his slow pace; he was in no hurry. Perhaps he is enjoying some time to himself as well, the sorceress' thoughts continued. When was the last time any of us took a simple enjoyable walk? Probably back in Snowhaven while Sasha was pregnant, she concluded.

  The sun was setting and soon it would grow cold. The Master Sorceress wanted to soak in every last ray of the sun, gaining comfort from its warmth. The desert seemed to guess at her desire; its final breaths flowing against her skin and blowing her light-weight black robes tenderly about her. She closed her eyes, calmed as the wind lifted her white-streaked hair in unhurried but continuous motion around her face. Katya understood why it was named the Aishe Desert; it seemed very much alive. She enjoyed these last moments, probably the last time she would have entirely to herself.

  The crunching of sand under footsteps caused her to open her eyes again.

  "Sorry to disturb you," Jared said, coming to a stop before her and taking in the view of the desert on the other side of the butte. "Amazing isn't it?" The sunset was glorious, its deep reds and oranges illuminating the entire sky. Katya smiled genuinely at the hunter, nodding in answer to his question. The hunter stood next to her, gazing off into the vast sandy landscape. She noticed he seemed quite at home here, his own black desert garb complimenting his curved sword, bow, and quiver. If not for what she assumed were his mother's Illyander features in his face, a broader jaw and more square than oval face, he very much looked to be a Easterner. His eyes had just enough slant to them to show his Eastern heritage, his most telling jai-jin feature. Jared faced her again, revealing deep lines around his eyes and on his forehead she hadn't noticed before. The twins were so caught up in their own physical strains that forming the avatar had burdened them with, that she had failed to notice the toll that their ordeal was having on their friends as well.

  "Dinner is ready," he stated. The family Olivia had them staying with had been preparing a small feast all day, mostly in thanks for them saving their village from Ahemait, the name the Easterners were now using for Salamasca. Simza's scouts had witnessed the fight on the butte and had seen the nefarious sorceress flee from the Illyanders with her undead dragons. In the Eastern culture, Ahemait was a dark deity, never worshiped and always feared. Roughly translated, she was a soul eater or devourer of the dead. Katya knew the name fit Salamasca more than the Easterners could ever realize.

  Seeing the raven-haired woman was still deep in thought, Jared said, "Well, I am headed back. Join us or don't."

  Realizing she was being mildly rude, Katya replied, "I am sorry, Jared. Of course, let's head back." She placed her arm through his affectionately like she would an old friend. He smiled at her and accepted her arm warmly. While at one time they might have been lovers, Katya and Jared had eventually settled into a comfortable friendship. She still caught him looking at her from time to time, perhaps admiring her features, but they both knew to whom his heart belonged. Besides, the sorceress had Iluak now.

  She sighed. That particular relationship was becoming more and more complicated. Both she and the therianthrope wanted to become physical, but she was holding back due to the dire circumstances involved with her being the Great Mother's Avatar. Why become attached when I will be gone soon? Very soon actually, she pondered as she and Jared walked back to the large tent
they would stay in that night. The smell of spices filled the air of the village, as dinner was being cooked at many fires. Jared lifted his nose, filling his lungs with the scent; he seemed to love it. The aroma merely burned at Katya's own nose, making her want to sneeze.

  Other than Olivia, eating food with their hands was still very new to all of the Illyanders. They were finally taking to it though. Katya was disgusted at first, but after learning that everyone washed their hands thoroughly before a meal, she had become more accepting of the Eastern tradition. The sorceress observed Olivia wincing as the older woman scrubbed her burnt right hand in the cleaning basin before the meal, but she did so without hesitation. Katya had healed the woman as much as she could after the fight, which undoubtedly saved the scout's life as extensive as her injuries were. However, the sorceress was regrettably unable to cure them fully without completely draining herself. The exertion of Katya’s initial spell that brought down Walron, the joining into Akor'shi-kai, and the difficult separation that followed as she painfully split from her twin had taken a toll on her.

  Jared was fine with the tactile custom, as well as eating from large communal platters, until Sasha threatened to eat all the dumplings before he had had a chance to have some. He actually snarled at Sasha, as she reached for another one.

  "Hey! I am eating for two here," she remarked, an amused grin on her face. It was true; Gabriel was happily eating along with the rest of them under his mother's tunic. Small suckling sounds filtered out to those closest to the swordswoman followed by happy cooing. The infant was growing quickly, and Sasha was eating like a horse to keep up with his milk demand.

  "Fine," the hunter sighed, a resigned smile on his face. "Go on, take it," he said, motioning at the last succulent morsel. Sasha complied, beaming happily as she bit into it. They sat in a circle around platters of food that rested on pillows in the middle. Katya sat next to Iluak, and Talas next to Olivia. Their generous hosts, Adraim and Courtan, as well as their delightful young daughter Tessrav, completed the circle. Beautiful drapery embroidered with bright vivid patterns hung from the inside of the tent walls that complimented the piles of pillows and rugs throughout the main enclosure. Three flaps, currently pulled back to make the room larger, led off to the sleeping side areas. On the final side of the giant square tent was the heavier flap that led outside.