‘They’re all down!’
***
Marek scowled as the last of the commanders fell. He looked to the roof, ignoring the growls from Farouk next to him.
‘There is a mage up there. He is guiding their attacks.’ Marek said. Another phosphorous bomb exploded above them but his shield held, the explosion causing the barest shimmer on the barrier.
‘It has killed the commanders. The ferals are no longer under their control,’ Farouk said.
‘Farouk, you take command. Lead the assault on the mansion.’ Marek turned and looked back up as the giant daemon bounded off into the night. ‘I will take care of the whelp.’
***
‘Keep firing. Everyone we take out here is one less to fight hand to hand.’ Cade marched up and down the battlements, barking orders to his men. They sprayed death from above, slicing through the confused ranks of sheol as they ran amok in the gardens. Seb nodded in approval. Perhaps they might have a chance after all.
Something flared in the distance, near the ridge. Seb focussed. His mouth fell open and his heart froze.
‘Off the roof! We have to get off the roof!’
‘Why? Wh -’
The purple ball of fire sprouted from the darkness on the ridge. It arched towards them at high speed. The sheol in the grounds paused in awe, watching as the fiery ball of death sped towards the mansion.
The shock lasted only momentarily. Seb, Cade and the Brothers ran to the other side of the building. They leapt off just as the fireball struck with a deafening roar. Masonry flew in all directions as they dropped over the lip of the mansion. One warrior wasn’t so lucky and a lump of ancient stone struck him face on. He plummeted ahead of them, no longer touching the Weave and victim to gravity in its normal form.
Seb had hesitated before he jumped, but only for a second. He didn’t have the luxury of the innate skills of the Brotherhood. He had the Weave, but this was something he’d only read about and never tried. For a moment, panic flared, his lungs suddenly filled to bursting with frozen air. He brought the calm quickly, the action almost pure instinct now. The world raced towards him, but he pushed back. He reached out, feeling the subtle grip of gravity, pulling it off him and passing it over, forming a dense bubble of air below him. His descent began to slow, and he landed with a dull thump on wet grass, the shockwave of dissipating energy knocking the nearest sheol off their feet.
The rest landed just after him. Cade despatched the two sheol that still lay stunned on the ground. Seb had rolled forwards, his landing not as elegant as the Brothers. He came to his feet facing the building. The Brothers had all landed safely. Seb looked up, and screamed.
‘Away! Move away!’
The Brothers didn’t waste time looking to see the cause of his concern. They rushed forwards as an avalanche of brick and ancient stone ploughed into the ground, sending plumes of dust into the air.
‘We all here?’ Cade ran to each of his men, pulling them and checking they were still in the fight. Thanks to Seb, all had survived the storm of stones. Cade walked back to Seb. ‘How goes it inside?’
Seb sensed. Half of the magi had fallen. Ten fought on in the hall. Their shields holding as the confused sheol stalled their attack. Six more fought around the ground floor, fighting a running battle with the sheol who tried to break in through the other access points. Through it all Cian blazed around like a man possessed. His aura swallowed all those around him, and everywhere he went sheol fell away in fear.
‘We are holding. Perhaps there’s a chance.’ Seb staggered as a cold wave of dread suddenly washed over him. Cade caught him before he fell.
‘What is it?’
Seb sensed again. All the imbued had felt it. Cade had stopped and was now turned towards the hall. The sheol had even paused their attack, the waiting ten magi exchanging worried glances with each other.
‘Seb!’
‘The daemon. The one from the Nexus. It’s here.’
The horned fiend crashed through the barriers erected by the magi in the hall. Before they could even respond it picked up a fallen piece of wall and hurled it, crushing three magi en route as it smashed through the wall on the other side where Seb and the others stood. They dove to one side, rolling to their feet as the dust cleared. Seb’s blood ran cold as the fiend stepped into view. Its one eye scanned the destruction around it. Its gaze eventually settled on its next target.
Him.
The daemon grinned and took a step forward. Cade stepped in front of him, a runed dagger held, pommel first.
‘Take this. You might need it.’
‘What?’ Seb said, not understanding but taking it nonetheless.
Without a word, Cade and his men turned and charged forwards into the breach.
‘Cade, no!’
‘Go, Seb! Someone needs to survive this day!’
With that Cade was gone. The Brotherhood warriors attacked the fiend with runed weapons. Two were swatted away like flies. Others were luckier. They got inside the fiend’s reach where their agility made up for their lack of strength. Swords and daggers sliced open daemon skin as it howled in rage.
Seb!
Sylph! The panic from her unconscious mind struck him like a slap. He reached out, sensing, filtering out the screams of magi and brother. He found her, bloodied, winded but unbowed. Sheol surrounded her, some of them clutching wounds that gushed black ichor, but more piled up behind. She was losing, she knew that, but she would not go easily.
Seb ducked inside the opening and dashed to the right. He avoided a skirmish between two magi and a handful of sheol and raced down the final corridor that led to the Drain. He ignored the mutilated Brothers on the floor outside the door and pelted inside, imbued legs carrying him at breakneck speed down the stairs.
‘Seb!’
Her relief washed over him but the moment was short lived. A possessed stepped inside her sagging guard, the claw raking skin, drawing angry red lines across her cheek. She crumbled against the wall, only instinct keeping her moving as another blow struck the wall, sending cracks running across the plaster. Seb took out the dagger that Cade had given him. Without thinking he threw the blade across the room. It hit the sheol on the back of the head, handle end first. The sheol turned in surprise, but only for a second. Sylph wrapped her arms round its neck and yanked its head to one side with a sickening click. It crashed to the floor as its comrades turned to face the new threat.
‘Mageling!’ the largest said, its mouth cracking into a vicious grin. It leapt over an upturned desk towards him. He stepped back, and as it descended upon him he pivoted, gripping the creature by its shirt and hurling it with all his imbued strength into the wall by the stairs.
The others swarmed him as he felt the lights go out on their leader. He let the Weave in completely, channelling speed, awareness, strength. They launched attack after attack, his mind in the now, his limbs blocking and deflecting on pure instinct. A fanged jaw lunged at his face, crumpling as he drove a fist into the side of its head. Something jumped at his back, his elbow snapping upwards and to the right, the creature slumping lifeless at his feet.
Seb was a blur. He’d never felt this way before, so totally in control. His conscious mind was almost a passenger, his body a tool of the Weave, carving a path through the sheol with abandon. Sylph was in sight. With renewed hope she fought the last of the sheol, picking up Seb’s dagger and driving it up and inside the creature’s jaw.
‘Well, well, what a pleasant surprise.’
Seb scrabbled backwards, the voice shocking him out of his battle trance. He staggered to his feet on legs that now were suddenly devoid of energy. He’d overextended himself with the Weave. His head began to throb. The room swayed. He tried to focus on the figure before him, knowing the voice even if his eyes wouldn’t connect.
‘Reuben.’ He spat blood on the floor. Around him the surviving sheol formed a perimeter.
‘Your merry band has put up a worthy fight,’ Reuben said. ‘Although as
I’m sure you can tell, the battle is lost.’
Seb didn’t waver in his gaze, but he dared a quick sensing. Dismay clouded his mind. They were lost. Only pockets remained. More had fallen. Sheol had assailed the roof and now Cade, wounded, fought a last stand with his loyal brothers against the horned daemon. Here and there the magi fought, side by side with their allies of old, but every moment another was lost, a light snuffed out into the void. And yet the sheol kept coming.
‘See,’ Reuben said, that insufferable smile on his face, ‘Your moment of resistance is over. Your time is over. Was it worth it? Was it worth this futile crusade that you led?’
‘Are you just going to talk all day, or are you going to stop hiding behind your drones and face me like a man. You coward.’
He spat the last word out with as much venom as he could muster. He couldn’t beat Rueben, even when at full strength. But he was damned if he was just going to roll over and die without a fight.
The challenge seemed to work. A disbelieving silence fell across the possessed. Reuben’s face creased into a snarl.
Screw this.
Seb didn’t wait for an invitation. He summoned what he had, channelling the last vestiges of his strength. The Weave seemed so far away now, his link to it tenuous, but he squeezed what he could. He lunged forwards, fist aimed towards Reuben’s head. For a moment he thought he might connect, but as his hand swung at speeds that would’ve decapitated a normal human, he knew that he had overstretched. Reuben flicked his head to one side, the blow glancing off his jaw. The warrior countered with a jab of iron into Seb’s ribs that lifted him off the ground and sent the air from his lungs. He dropped in a heap to the ground as an armoured knee struck him square in the jaw. He felt himself leave the ground - no time to brace for the impact - and smashed into the far wall.
Footsteps approached. The end was coming, but he was spent. Death seemed a relief now. They had failed. All was lost. At least he hadn’t died afraid, like he nearly did all those months before.
Stay down.
Cian.
Footsteps even closer. Almost in reach. He winced, closing his eyes. Salvation wouldn’t come in time.
That was when the earth cracked.
He dared to look, his eyes meeting with Reuben’s for a brief moment. The Second Sword didn’t know, he couldn’t know, for he wasn’t a mage, he couldn’t hear their song.
The ceiling exploded with a roar that must’ve cracked the walls of the Veil itself. The iron drain, masonry, dust and rubble crashed into the room. Reuben vanished under a plume of dust and rubble as Cian dropped into the chamber.
‘Are you dead, boy?’
The warrior was covered in a sheen of red. Cuts and wounds of various sizes seemed to cover the entirety of his body, yet he stood, unwavering, the Weave pulsing from him like a beacon.
‘Not quite,’ Seb mumbled. He tried to stand but the energy simply wasn’t there.
‘Here,’ Cian leapt over a pile of rubble. A hand the size of Seb’s head reached down and gripped his wrist. Energy flooded into him, a pulse that evaporated the fatigue, numbing the pain.
‘It won’t last long,’ Cian said, ‘perhaps half an hour, but it will do.’
‘For what?’
‘To end this.’
‘Seb!’
They spun round, arms raised, as Cade and one other Brother raced into the room, stopping and staring at the carnage they saw before them.
‘You survived that?’
Cade nodded to Cian. ‘We had a little help.’
‘Cade. Can you fight on?’ Cian said.
Cian stepped over a fallen chandelier, idly stamping on a still-twitching sheol as he went.
‘Whilst my body still draws breath. The oath demands it.’
Cian laughed, the sound coarse. ‘To hell with the oath. It’s more than that now.’ He turned back to them, steely eyes fixing each of them in turn. ‘You fight on? To the end?’
There was no other option as Seb saw it. If he wanted to run, he couldn’t. He nodded once, trying to put some conviction in it. Cade’s response was more concrete. As was his comrade.
‘Count me in.’
‘Sylph?’
She staggered against the wall, a wince on her face as she steadied herself with a shaking hand. Seb rushed over and helped her upright.
‘You need to get out of here,’ he said.
‘Where, out there?’ She gently removed his hand and stepped away. ‘What do we do? You have a plan?’
‘We fight to the end.’
‘That’s it?’
‘It’s all we have. We are lost.’
Sylph shook her head. ‘No, it can’t be. That’s not right.’
Cian frowned. ‘What do you mean? This isn’t the time for debate.’
‘I heard Marek say. It didn’t make sense at the time. I didn’t know what he was planning. But back when he trusted me, he’d said that when the moment came that they wouldn’t have long.’
‘What does that even mean?’
Sylph shook her head. ‘I don’t know, but it seemed important.’
Seb paced in a circle. ‘Think about it. The message was a trap. Some kind of Weave-bomb. It didn’t kill us. What did it do?’
‘It disabled the sentinels’ Cian said.
‘Why?’
‘They are almost indestructible. With them Marek had no hope of taking the mansion.’
‘Right. But he had to do it quickly. Why?’
‘Perhaps the effect is only temporary?’
Seb thought for a minute. He cast his mind to his astral training with the Magister and Caleb. He stopped walking.
‘The Spoke Stone. That powers the sentinels?’
Cian shook his head. ‘No. It controls them. They are of magic older than this place. Their power cannot be taken away, aside from by the Consensus itself.’
‘So why are they not moving then?’
A light went on in Cian’s eyes. ‘The Spoke Stone. The bomb has corrupted that in some form!’
‘Can you undo it?’
‘I don’t know. Perhaps. We need to get to it.’
‘We all need to go.’
Cade shook his head. ‘Wait a minute. This is our plan? What then? What if you can’t undo the spell? Marek must know we’re coming up.’
‘If it comes to that,’ Cian said. ‘We destroy it. The binding spell is severed.’
‘But what about the Consensus. Without the hubs in place then it will collapse.’
‘Collapse? No. Does a wheel break when one spoke is missing? No it won’t. But if it is destroyed then the rule of the observers will be broken. Reality will be impacted in some way, although it is beyond my understanding to explain how.’
‘So’, Cade said, clapping his hands together. ‘To sum up, either we stay here, fight to the death and the Magistry is lost. The sheol led by Marek and whoever else run free amongst the Unaware. Or we attempt to destroy a foundation stone on which all of reality is built and that could have unimaginable effects on the universe as we know it?’
Seb smiled. ‘Pretty much.’
Chapter 53
Marek surveyed the destruction within the Great Hall in the building he’d formerly known as home. Silas swept in alongside him flanked by two body guards. The bodies of sheol, magi and brother littered the ground around them.
‘Has the Spoke Stone survived?’ Silas said.
Marek strode towards the double doors that led down to the sanctum. He paused, sensing, before turning back.
‘It is intact.’
‘That is good. Then we can complete this.’
A noise at the far end of the hall made both men turn. Reuben staggered in, covered head to toe in dust and masonry. The gathered sheol growled and rounded on him, not recognising the warrior. Marek raised a hand and they held their ground as Silas rushed to meet him.
‘Son, you are well!’
‘I live, but they are coming.’
‘Who?’
‘Ca
de, Cian and the others.’
‘That is all?’
‘All?’ Reuben pushed his father’s helping hand away. ‘Cian is a formidable opponent.’
Silas smiled. ‘Indeed he is. However I doubt he can do much now.’
‘I’ll let you tell him that when he arrives.’
‘Alas I must decline his entrance. Marek has instructed me to command our forces at the perimeter so that none escape.’
‘Lucky you.’
‘Keep calm, Reuben. I will see you on the other side.’ Silas turned and left with his retinue.
‘Thanks for the support.’ Reuben muttered.
As Silas left, the far entrance to the hall opened.
‘Ah, it seems our guests are here right now!’ Marek’s musical voice carried over the room. Reuben turned as the last survivors of the battle emerged into the remains of the great hall.
‘Cian, old friend, it’s good to see you!’
***
Seb stood behind Cian to the left. The influx of Weave-energy that Cian had channelled into him was waning now. He had to preserve what he had for the next few moments. They would only get once chance at this.
‘Marek. You have betrayed us all!’ Cian moved slowly forwards, his staff extended before him. All around sheol formed a perimeter. Close, but not close enough to risk destruction. They’d seen what damage the giant warrior could inflict.
‘There are so many, even now,’ Sylph hissed.
Seb nodded. He tried not to think about it, but she was right. They must’ve slain hundreds of sheol, but another hundred at least remained. Did they ever have a chance?
‘Cian, I think you will find it is you and your fallen friends that have been betrayed for far too long. It is I who has finally seen the light after all these years!’
Cian scoffed. ‘Light? Selling your soul to the sheol. You’ve lost your mind Marek. I feel sorry for you. Before I just thought you were a poor mage, but now I know it wasn’t your fault. It is an ailment of your mind that compels you to act this way.’
Message Bearer (The Auran Chronicles Book 1) Page 31