Shadow of the Knight

by Matt Heppe

“I’ll burn their ladders here!” Ayja shouted down the hall. “Hold your room!”

  Casting fire a across great distances always sapped her of her strength, but if she waited until they were close, they’d get through the other windows.

  Reaching into the aether, she strummed the cords and sent her energy out to the tree. At least it’s pine.

  The trunk burst into flame, and the ghuls hurled it to the ground. Ayja slammed the shutters closed and ran to the other window. She pulled the bolt and opened the shutter to see the tree being lifted to her sill. A leering, naked ghul was already climbing the lower branches.

  Ayja set the tree ablaze. The ghul screamed and leapt to the ground.

  There was a crash in the hall. Ayja drew her sword and ran to the door. There were shouts and the sound of fighting from Cam’s room. Just as she entered the hall, a ghul appeared from the front room.

  The ghul, not seeing her, turned towards Cam’s room.

  “Hey! Here!” Ayja shouted. She raised her sword in a two-hand, high guard.

  The ghul turned and charged her. Another entered the hall behind it.

  Ayja brought her sword down in an overhand strike, splitting the ghul’s skull. Black blood and brains splattered as she wrenched her sword free. The second ghul was almost on her. More poured into the hall.

  There was no time to swing. She grabbed her blade with her gloved hand, and wielding it like a short spear, stabbed the second ghul through the mouth as it dove at her. It jerked and twisted, its hands still clawing at her.

  Ayja kicked the ghul off her blade. It fell back into the next ghul, giving her time to re-grip her blade and raise it into a mid-guard. There were three ghuls in the hall, all coming at her. The open door to Cam’s room loomed behind them. If just one ghul ran that way, it would attack Cam or Yevin from behind, and they would be overwhelmed.

  A ghul came at her. It wore a torn nightdress. Someone from town? A woman Ayja knew? The dead face twisted into an unrecognizable snarl. Ayja stepped into her downward strike, hoping to strike the creature’s head, but at the last moment it twisted aside, and her blade cut deep into its shoulder.

  The sword, honed razor fine near the tip, almost severed the creature’s arm. The ghul gave a great spasm, nearly yanking Ayja’s blade from her hand. From behind, another ghul climbed over the first in its desperation to get to Ayja.

  Down the hall, just for an instant, Ayja caught a glimpse of a ghul heading for Cam’s room. Cam!

  Ayja’s vision narrowed, and the world went silent. The screams of the ghuls and the clash of arms faded, and all she saw were her enemies before her.

  Ayja’s heart beat once, and a warm flood of strength flowed through her body. A silver sheen fell over her vision, and she laughed at the power filling her.

  The ghul nearest her lunged over its dying ally, grabbing for Ayja’s head with dirty, clawed hands. She punched it in the face, driving it back. Then, with a one handed blow, her sword cut its head from its body. Black blood spouted from its neck as it toppled.

  Ayja lunged forward. Her sword whistled as she swung it at the next ghul. The blade cut off both its hands. Her back stroke shattered its skull.

  The hallway was crowded now. There was fighting in the doorway to Cam’s room. Cam. She had to save him.

  There was a pyren in the hall. It wore mail and carried a sword. It shouted orders in some foreign tongue.

  The pyren had to die. Silver rage filled her.

  Two ghuls stood between her and the pyren. Ayja screamed a battle cry as they charged her. Leaning into her strike, Ayja drove her blade through the chest of the lead ghul. Before she could recover her blade, the second ghul was on her.

  Grabbing her helm with both hands it pulled her forward as if in a lover’s embrace. But instead of a kiss, its slavering jaws went for her throat. Ayja brought her hands up between his, breaking his hold. She grabbed the back of his head and smashed the crown of her helm into the ghuls face. Bone crunched and teeth shattered.

  Still holding his head, she slammed it into the wall. Plaster and laths cracked with the force of the blow. She heaved the ghul backwards at the oncoming pyren.

  Her sword was just out of reach, still impaled in a ghul. Corpses fouled her footing. She wouldn’t reach her sword before the pyren got to her. She yanked her dagger from its sheath.

  Something heavy hit her from behind and then arms wrapped around her. She tried to throw the ghul off, but it dragged her down. The stench of corrupted flesh overwhelmed her as she fell among the corpses. The ghul lunged at her throat, but its jaws clamped down on her aventail and not flesh.

  Ayja got her forearm on the creature’s neck, pushing it back, but then another leapt on her. The ghul tore at her as it desperately tried to force its way past her free arm.

  Behind them the pyren stood with raised sword. It shouted something, but Ayja couldn’t hear it above the blood rushing past her ears.

  Time slowed as she pushed her vision into the aether. She was shocked by what she saw. The aether was more vibrant than she’d ever seen. There were strands of magic she had never seen before. And the ones she did know were brimming with power, waiting to be touched.

  Her fingers moved, and she reached into the deep well of silver power filling her.

  “Die,” she said.

  The world exploded. White light flashed, and the ghuls holding her were blown away, shattered by ethereal energy. The pyren was thrown down the hall, toppling over the stair railing and onto the trap door.

  Ayja leapt to her feet. Ghuls crowded her room. They had gotten in behind her. She touched the aether and splayed her fingers into her room. White power crackled from her fingers as jagged streaks of energy flashed into the room. Ghuls twisted and jerked, held erect by the power striking them, before falling, charred and dead.

  She turned back to the hall. Her chest heaved as she sucked in great lungfulls of air. She felt as though she had just run to the Hunter’s Cave and back. But still, silver filled her vision, and she felt the power coursing through her body. There were still enemies to fight. Enemies who had to die.

  Six ghuls crowded the hall. The pyren staggered to its feet. Ayja touched the aether and raised her palm, aiming down the hall. A single streak of silver energy slammed into, and through the ghuls, burning them and destroying them.

  She turned it on the pyren. It stood up to the onslaught for a few heartbeats and then it too fell. Ayja staggered forwards. Cam stood in the doorway to his room. He stared at her for a moment before whirling away.

  Another pyren crouched in the doorway to the front room. Ayja pulled her sword from the dead ghul, but as she raised it, the pyren fled. She ran after him but was greeted at the door by two ghuls. Behind them the pyren was trapped against the flow of ghuls entering through the window.

  The aether was filled with possibilities. Strands of light that could do things she had never imagined. As the ghuls reached out to drag her into the room, she strummed her hand across brilliant cords she’d never seen.

  She pushed her hand towards the ghuls, reaching deeper into herself than she had ever done before, and a wave of force crashed into the ghuls. The force picked them up, every ghul and pyren, propelling them through the room and blowing them out the front wall of the house.

  Ayja stared at her hands. It was too much to believe. So much power. Then a black wave rose up and swallowed her. Her vision went dark, and she couldn’t breathe. The hall spun and she fell.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Telea ran after Sulentis as his long strides carried him quickly down the hall. There were barred doors here on either side of the hall. Some held prisoners who called out to them demanding to be freed.

  There was another door at the end of the hall. “There’ll be guards beyond this door,” Sulentis whispered. He stood to one side of the door and ushered her close to him. “Be ready to run.”

  Sulentis turned the door handle and pulled, but the door didn’t budge. He hammered on the door with his
fist. “Let us out,” he shouted. “We’re done here.”

  As he spoke he raised his hand. Telea saw the magic of song gathered around his hand. She’d seen the aura of magic before but only from the voices of trained singers. Here was elementar magic, a magic that didn’t come from song, but from within the person.

  Elementars don’t create magic. They are magic.

  The door opened and Sulentis hurled his magic through the opening. A guard shouted and tumbled backwards, struck by some unseen force. Sulentis ran through. A tremendous gust of wind buffeted Telea as Sulentis threw his magic at a second man.

  One of the guards lay stunned. The other cautiously raised himself to his knees. The room was clearly some kind of guard post. “Into the hall,” Sulentis commanded the guard, pointing back the way they’d just come. He raised his hand and flames engulfed it. “Now.”

  The man obeyed, his eyes wide with fear. Even as he stumbled through the door, his eyes never left Sulentis’s fire. As soon as he was in the hall, Sulentis barred the door.

  Telea glanced at the second guard as he stirred.

  Call a deep brother, and make him serve you, the voice within her said.

  She could do it. A deep brother would be a powerful ally. She didn’t know how she knew this, but she did. The man had a dagger at his belt. It would be easy enough to accomplish.

  No! Don’t speak of such foul things! She pushed at the thing in her, forcing it into a dark recess of her mind. She closed her eyes for a moment. It wasn’t strong—it would have taken her already if it was. Still, she had to get it out of her.

  Sulentis pulled his scholar’s robes over his head and handed them to Telea. “Put these on,” he said. Sulentis was richly dressed, she saw, wearing a fine white shirt under a red arming coat. His black linen trousers were tucked into tall black boots.

  “You’re not a scholar,” Telea said. “You’re an elementar.”

  “One can be both. Now, put on those robes and pull up the hood.”

  “What about you?”

  “Most of the people who know who I am are back in that room.” He jerked his thumb back towards the torture chamber.

  Sulentis led Telea from the guard room at a rapid pace. Despite her height, she had to hike up the robes to keep from tripping over them. Sulentis was a tall, gangly man. There were several doors along the hall, but he ignored them. “You know where you’re going?” Telea asked.

  “More or less,” he said. They reached the door at the end of the hall. Sulentis opened it. Beyond was a landing and a stairwell down. Two guards in white and black stood to either side of the door.

  Sulentis barely gave them a look as he led Telea down the stairs. Telea expected the men to call out after them, but neither said a word. After a moment they were out of sight beyond a bend. Telea and Sulentis spiraled down. Sulentis glanced over his shoulder and past her. He gave her a quick smile. “They’re there to stop people from going in and too lazy to question anyone going out.”

  “How did you know?”

  “I didn’t. A bold front can win many victories. They’re guarding the duke from threats coming up the stairs. Anyone going down must have been checked on the way up, right?”

  Telea nodded. “They might have tried to seize us.”

  Sulentis shrugged. “It wouldn’t have ended well for them.”

  “Are there many like you?”

  “More now than there used to be. You’ll learn more later—after we’ve escaped. We need to keep going just a little longer. I have a friend outside the city who will help us.”

  They had only gone a few steps when they heard female voices approaching. Soon two women came into view coming up the stairs. Both bore linen covered baskets and appeared to be servants. Telea pulled the cowl of her hood well over her eyes.

  “Our pardon, my lord,” Both bowed their heads.

  “We are visitors here,” Sulentis said, his voice haughty. “Is there a balcony or rampart nearby? We wish some fresh air.”

  “The next door leads to a rampart, my lord.”

  “Many thanks.”

  When they found it, Sulentis pushed it open and led Telea out into a warm, dark summer night.

  Sulentis went to the edge of the rampart and peered down between two crenellations. “We’re still too deep inside the city.” Below them was a narrow section of the city just one street wide, with homes crowded on either side. Beyond the homes rose another wall. “That’s where we need to be.”

  Telea turned at the sound of the door opening. A guard with a poleaxe came through. “Good evening, my lord,” he said to Sulentis. Telea turned away from the man and looked out over the city, hoping he wouldn’t take any note of her.

  “Where can I—,” Sulentis started when horns blared from a tower high above. Moments later bells began to chime.

  “The alarm,” the guard said. “Please return to the tower and then to your chambers. My lord, if you are a part of Duke Braxus’s—”

  Sulentis pushed his hand towards the guard, and the man was thrown back as if kicked by a horse. A wall of wind struck the tower as the guard tumbled onto the stairs. Sulentis waved his hand and the tower door blew closed with a crash.

  “Come here,” Sulentis said as he climbed to the edge of the crenellations. He pulled Telea close and wrapped an arm around her waist. “Put your arms around my neck and hold tight,” he said.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked, even as she obeyed. What choice did she have now? The die was cast.

  He jumped off the wall, taking her with him. She didn’t scream. She couldn’t even think to do it. A wall of wind struck them from below as they fell, buffeting them, and at the same time cushioning them.

  Telea saw a roof coming up at them. Too fast, she thought. She braced herself, but then the wind rose stronger, and they hit the roof as easily as if they had jumped just a few feet.

  The roof was steep. Telea felt a wave of fear as they slid across smooth red tiles towards the edge. “Once more,” Sulentis said as they lurched over the edge. It was a tall building, three stories, but once again the wind rose up and they landed, this time in a heap on the ground.

  Sulentis staggered to his feet, lifting her with him. “Apologies for that landing.”

  “What in Forsvar’s name?” a woman uttered. She stood in the doorway of the house looking up at the roof. “Where did you? How?”

  “There’s an alarm, good lady. People falling from the skies.” Sulentis said, with a wave. “You should be inside where it’s safe.” He took Telea by the elbow and led her down the street. A door slammed behind them.

  Telea lengthened her stride to keep up with Sulentis. More bells tolled now, the sound spreading through the city. There were few people out, but those who were hastened for shelter.

  “Clear the streets!” someone shouted. Telea couldn’t tell if the command was directed at them.

  Sulentis glanced over his shoulder. “Faster,” he said. They crossed the street and headed towards an alleyway. A small wagon with a broken wheel had been parked just off to the side.

  “Weren’t you afraid Duke Braxus would kill you?” Telea asked as she caught up to him.

  “He wouldn’t have once he found out that I was an elementar. Duke Braxus doesn’t want to kill elementars. He wants them to serve him. It’s the Royal Inquisitors who murder elementars.”

  Sulentis led her around a corner and then quickly pulled her into the shelter of a doorway. “Damn. There’s a barracks here,” he said.

  The alley led directly to the next wall, but there was no gate here. Instead, a narrow stone stairway led up to the top of the wall. Half a dozen guards stood in front of a house at the end of the street. The guards were busily buckling their aketons and pulling on gauntlets. They clearly hadn’t expected the alarm.

  “We can’t wait,” Sulentis said as the alarm bells continued to toll. “They don’t know what is happening. But soon word will get out and it will be impossible to escape.”

 
“We should go then.”

  Sulentis grimaced. “I don’t know if I can protect you. My magic isn’t limitless.”

  I can hide you. You can walk right past them.

  Telea jerked at the sudden voice inside her head. The demon. She’d seen people possessed by demons before. They’d all turned into raving monsters though. This was different. There was no malevolence in it. She didn’t even feel its presence.

  What do you mean? How? she asked.

  I’m one of the dreks. A worm. It’s only our ability to hide that keeps us from being consumed.

  What do I do?

  Just let me hide you.

  “I think I can make it past them,” Telea said. She believed the creature within her, although she could think of no good reason why she should. She just knew.

  “How?”

  “Trust me. I can do it.”

  “See that wagon across the street? When it starts burning you need to be up those stairs.”

  “I will.”

  “Go now.”

  Hide me now, she thought. Her skin crawled as a cloak of darkness engulfed her. She saw perfectly well, maybe even better than before.

  “How?” Sulentis asked. “No. Later. Hurry to the stairs.”

  Telea left him by the doorway, and keeping close to the houses that lined the alley, she crept towards the stairs. The soldiers were almost done arming. Soon they would be on the stairs and guarding the wall.

  Faster. You’re safe.

  Telea picked up her pace. The guards paid her no attention as she came closer to them. Was it just their inattention? No, she saw them looking around, wondering what was going on. It was lighter here. There were two torches burning to either side of the barracks door, and two more at the base of the stairs.

  Stay out of the light.

  Telea had reached the base of the wall. How could she stay out of the light when the torches were near the stairs? Will they see me?

  Bright light destroys the cloak of shadows.

  “Fire! Help!” Sulentis’s shouts came from up the alley. She looked that way and saw him running towards the guards. Behind him the wagon was engulfed in flames. “They’re inside the city,” Sulentis called.