Fighting hard to maintain an uncaring façade, Irmina spun on her heels and strode back to the exit. It took all of her composure not to lash out at the dungeon guards as she passed them. She led the way upstairs, wincing every time she heard a moan behind her.
“Traitor.” Underneath the painful rasp, she picked out Devan’s voice. “Why don’t you just finish us off? There’s nothing more left to tell.”
Irmina continued on as if she hadn’t heard the man. Once up several flights and out of earshot from the guards, she stopped. “Where’s Edwin and Rohan?”
A coughing laugh rattled from Devan’s chest. He spat out blood that landed near her feet. “Edwin’s a traitor like you. From what the questioners said, Rohan’s gone. You fucks tortured him to death.”
Both Guthrie and Stefan appeared to be unconscious.
After saying a quick prayer for the old man, she said, “I’m here to rescue you. And I didn’t betray you.” She gestured to the Dagodin holding Devan. “As planned, get them on the wagons and head to the Travelshaft. I have to find the other one.” If Edwin had betrayed them, he would pay with his life.
The men gave slight nods. They headed up the last flight of stairs and into the courtyard. After a futile search, she rejoined them. Moments later, they were heading down a wide avenue with their wounded charges in the back of a wagon drawn by two horses. The usual crowds on the street cleared a path for them, some stopping to whisper or point. As they walked, Irmina got the niggling sense that something wasn’t quite right. Her escort must have felt it too, because they grew more vigilant and kept their hands on their swords.
When they rounded a corner onto the Shining Way, the avenue was empty. Irmina stopped. The busiest road in all the Iluminus over the past months, she’d never seen it without its traffic. The mesh of walkways directly above her were the same. She spun, glancing in the opposite direction. In the distance, folk crossed several other paths, but they were hurrying. The shuffle of feet behind her and the occasional moan were the only sounds to break the silence. The empty eyes of the buildings and towers around them watched, the doors open but without a single patron or hawker. As always, the air within the Iluminus was still and motionless.
“Be ready,” she said to the nearest Dagodin. She gave the signal and strode forward.
The wagon wheels’ rumble, the clip clop of horses’ hooves, and the thud of her soldiers’ feet might have been the only sounds louder than her own beating heart. Irmina kept her focus on the interconnecting lanes, the doors and windows in her periphery. Any movement would meet violence.
A brush of wind where there should have been none announced the attack.
“Above us,” she yelled, rolling away.
A flash of black and red landed next to her. A woman garbed as she was, brandished a short sword, cowl pulled tight over her head so only eyes showed,. Similar forms fell all around them.
“Now,” Irmina said.
She opened her Matersense and felt the others around her do the same. It was odd being linked to Pathfinders in this fashion. To her, it was almost like touching the mind of an animal, except there was coherent thought rather than a ball of emotions. Oneness filled her, the collective consciousness drowning out any urges from the voices that normally rose with touching the essences.
Before the Raijin reacted, the Pathfinders, disguised as Dagodin, created individual shields for each person and the wagon. Along the exteriors of the buildings that lined the Shining Way, the walls shimmered. Ashishin appeared, having Forged a Masking to camouflage themselves as stone. Hands upraised, they shot arrows of light.
The projectiles blazed a trail through the air as they punched into the Raijin from all sides before slamming into the shields and dissipating. Smoking, bloody holes, no bigger than coins, riddled the Raijin uniforms. One by one, enemy Matii crumpled to the cobbles.
Yet as much surprise as her forces had on their side, some of the Raijin were able to react. They were trained and bred for this. Several had thrown up their own shields. A second group dropped from the walkways. Together, they turned on those near the buildings.
A storm of steel ensued.
This close, no one, not even the Ashishin dared to Forge. That gave the Raijin the advantage. As assassins, their close quarter combat was near unparalleled in the Iluminus. Within minutes, they decimated the Ashishin ranks in flashes of weapons, bone, blood, and screams.
The lone High Shin, Delienza, that led this first group for Irmina, was still standing, along with two Pathfinders. Not giving them a moment, the remainder of the Raijin charged in. Backs to each the other, the three fought, their weapons a synchronous flow of defense.
That was when the next group of Raijin dropped down.
High Shin Delienza gave a near imperceptible nod.
Irmina issued a silent prayer then called out, “Full shields.”
As a small cocoon of light and air essences wrapped around her group, there came a thump. Struggling for balance against the ripple in the ground, Irmina dropped to one knee and watched.
An eight-foot wave of earth washed out from Delienza and her Pathfinders in a concentric circle. Part slammed into the building, shattering its supports. The other raced toward Irmina and her charges. The ground swallowed the Raijin and continued to flow outward. With a rumble, the building collapsed, Delienza and her two disappearing from view amid mortar, brick, and dust.
“Go,” Irmina yelled, once the attack dissipated against their shields.
Her Ashishin on the opposite side hadn’t managed to replicate Delienza’s feat. It wouldn’t take long for the surviving Rajin to regroup.
The driver snapped his reins. Horses whinnying, the wagon surged forward, away from the destruction. Ahead, a glow lit the skyline between the towers and spires.
“Their other attacks will follow now,” she said, remembering Quintess instructions on Raijin tactics. They would attempt for quick kills. Failing that, the Tribunal would send whoever remained.
Irmina didn’t like the idea of hurting those who might be innocent in all this, but neither could she pick and choose who to fight. These men and women were following orders. It was either her life or theirs. She had a certain attachment to hers.
All pretenses gone, they sped down the avenue, horses’ hooves clattering, leaving the screams and moans of the dying behind. Irmina glanced back and nearly tripped. She had expected to see the Raijin running after them. Instead, the Matii disappeared and then reappeared several dozen feet from their original locations. Squinting, she picked out what they did. They were leaping from one mass of light essences to the other.
“Shimmering,” Hardan said from next to her, dropping his disguise. He made a signal and two Pathfinders stopped running.
They flung their hands out from left to right. Stone and wood ripped from the buildings and zipped toward the oncoming Matii. Then as one, the Pathfinders pushed their arms to the sky and pulled down. A translucent distortion formed above their fists. They made dual motions as if pushing something of great weight away from them. Irmina gaped as swaths of air coalesced, changing the once clear, even, light into semi-opaque, undulating bands.
Whatever it was, it threw off the Raijin’s Shimmers. It was as if they slammed into walls. In response, the Raijin had to spend time working around the Pathfinder Forges.
“May the essences bless them.” Hardan’s tone radiated reverence.
For a moment, Irmina frowned before she understood what he meant. The Pathfinders intended to sacrifice themselves to buy her more time. Not allowing the shock to overcome her, she focused ahead, ignoring Hardan’s signal to have two more of his men drop off to defend. She couldn’t help but wince every time steel clashed and screams echoed from behind.
They rounded a corner leading to a large square and the road near the Travelshaft. Immediately, they drew up
short. She should have felt some exultation at acquiring her destination, but that troubled sense from when she found Rohan and Edwin missing still niggled at her. When she saw the square, she knew why.
Glass, pieces of buildings, dust, blood, and bodies littered the flagstones. With the earlier sound of battle all around her, she never heard this attack. Now, it echoed with the clash of steel and the bellows and cries of those locked in combat.
The many Matii who had joined their cause struggled mightily against an army of Dagodin, Raijin, Ashishin, and High Shin all wearing the Tribunal’s crimson, gold, black or white. Where space separated them, the Tribunal’s forces cut swaths into her army with Forgings of fire and light.
Buildings burned. Flames trailed along the cobbles, petering out, blackened stone left in its wake. Where the few Pathfinders loyal to her cause tried to form shields, Raijin appeared. Exchanges of sword and knife work happened faster than any untrained eye could follow, often resulting in the Pathfinder lying in a pool of blood. Ashishin attempting to do the same met a similar fate. So concerned was her people with defense, they were unable to attack.
Toward the square’s center, a milling mass of the Tribunal’s Dagodin and Raijin fought against a clump of defenders. Among the crowd, Irmina picked out High Jin Quintess’ strained face as she sent arrows of earth out into the attackers. A flick of a hand from Berenil at her side brought lightning shooting down from the clear sky, blasting foe and friend alike from their feet. Cobalt charges sputtered across the ground where men once stood.
A hand on her shoulder brought her attention to Hardan. He pointed past the battle toward the stretch that led to the liquid, silvery monolith that was the zyphyl. Behind it, set into a large tower, the Travelshaft’s darkness loomed. Upon a balcony, dressed in full High Shin regalia, stripes covering his robes, his cloak as dead as the nonexistent wind, Buneri overlooked the square.
Irmina snarled. She’d known from the start that the man was more than he let on.
“Do not attack him.” There was a sense of urgency in Hardan’s voice she hadn’t heard before.
Confused, she frowned at him.
“I suspected but I never knew for sure. He’s a netherling. What’s inside of us is reacting too violently to this much sela for him to hide himself. If you attack him, you will break the contract that’s saving most of their lives. It’s the only thing preventing any of us from becoming physically involved against humans.”
Irmina nodded. Hardan had been insistent on their comprehension of those specific rules. She’d been unsure of his reasons until now.
“What can we do to stop him or them?” She nodded toward Buneri’s Matii.
Half of her original fifteen thousand remained. The rest were dead or dying, their bodies strewn about the square. The survivors were steadily retreating while attempting to keep Quintess and Berenil alive. Already she’d practically given up hope on assistance from Torandil. At least not in time to escape the Iluminus. However, if they managed to hold out in one of the buildings, help might yet arrive.
“You can do nothing. I, on the other hand …”
As his voice trailed off, Irmina glanced at Hardan. Eyes widening at what she saw, she almost lashed out with a Forge. She had to remind herself that she trusted him.
Hardan’s body twisted to an inhuman angle. His hand reached up and snapped his head over until it lay parallel to his shoulders. A tentacle, black as charcoal, sprouted from his neck. His body contorted, bloating then deflating as if something writhed within his armor. With a wet sound, the armor burst apart, revealing a writhing mass. Black skin stretched over muscle and sinew. A snake-like head rose up as the netherling grew. Horns sprouted from its head. Chitinous armor formed to cover the body. Four limbs, two on each side, jutted out from the rib cage. Hardan, now as a full netherling, screeched, the sound carrying across the battlefield. His eight eyes opened, milky white against the ebony of his face.
The entire battle stopped.
Darkness streaked from Hardan toward the balcony where Buneri stood. Hardan’s body followed, blurring across the distance.
“Raijin Irmina, Raijin Irmina,” a voice called, insistent, a hand tugging her arm.
Still in shock, she looked down. A Pathfinder wearing a strip of color on his arm that signified he belonged to her knelt at her feet.
“High Jin Quintess sent me to remind you of the zyphyl. She said now is the time.”
The words registered with Irmina even as she nodded absently. Yet, all she managed was to direct her attention to the balcony.
Buneri and Hardan had become a haze of whipping tentacles, strikes, and screeches. Their limbs were too hard to follow. At times it appeared Hardan had the upper hand, but Buneri slipped away on every occasion as if he was toying with him.
Below them, the battle had resumed. Several Dagodin archers in support of Buneri fired arrows up toward Hardan when he backed off a few feet. Blackness streaked down from him to tear them apart. It congealed into tiny eel-like minions.
The warning gong to announce passage through the Travelshaft wailed. The sound broke Irmina from her trance of watching the netherlings fight. She dashed toward the zyphyl.
Chapter 49
With the bells droning their arrival, Galiana stepped from the zyphyl’s grasp and opened her Matersense. Spread to her left and right, the army of Dosteri; the Mysteras’ refugees; thousands of clansmen in fur and leather, their great wolves and daggerpaws beside them; and the Matii commanded by Cantor shifted into ordered formations under the watchful eyes and yells of Weaponmasters. At first glance, one might have expected this to be a haphazard formation, but they’d been preparing for this. It showed in their rigid ranks.
She gazed out onto the city and school she once held dear. When they left Torandil, she warned everyone to expect some resistance, but she could not have anticipated what she saw before her. Chaos ruled. She couldn’t help but to stare for a moment before she collected her thoughts.
In the main square, all manner of Matii battled. The ones ahead of her were forcing another set to retreat. It didn’t take her long to discern the two sides. Those with armbands that signified their alignment with the Gray Council were losing … badly
Bodies and rubble littered once pristine flagstones. Intermingled with the reek of burned flesh, the acrid pall of smoke hung heavy, drifting into the air in gray plumes. Fire shot back and forth between the two groups. Lightning arced from the sky. Luminescent beams and bolts streaked and rippled across any distance separating the opposing forces before cutting swaths wherever they struck. Concussions rocked the plaza. Eerie screeches echoed. From what she could not tell or see. Steel rang on steel.
Where Raijin clashed against any other Matii, the fight turned quickly in the Tribunal’s favor. Only the Gray Council groups with Pathfinders offered any real resistance against them.
Tribunal cohorts reformed quickly to face Galiana and the arriving army. Comprised mainly of Dagodin brandishing sword and board or long lances, their uniforms and armor crimson to match their Ashishin counterparts, they were rigid in their discipline, unflinching with their response. At least a score of High Shin, their robes made up solely of colorful stripes, revealed themselves among the ranks. None appeared surprised or concerned by the presence of a new threat.
At their head was High Shin Neftana, her willowy form unmistakable. From Cantor’s reports, the woman should have been dead. The way she marched ahead of her forces spoke of her usual overconfidence.
Galiana signaled, and shields blossomed all around her. As Forges began in concert from the Tribunal Matii, the essences congealed, giving the air itself a thick texture. A nimbus grew, not only near them, but also spreading across and up as they drew on sunlight itself, one of the most powerful sources of the Streams.
All across the enemy lines, the cobbles lurched, once, twi
ce, and then in waves that raced across the ground, tossing the enemy from their feet. With a rumble to challenge an avalanche, bricks and debris blasted at least forty feet into the air, taking soldiers with it.
The fountain assumed a gigantic humanoid form, twisted metal outlining a skeleton, stone blocks clacking together for muscle and body like a building creating itself without workers. Debris that should have fallen to the ground hung suspended for impossible moments before zipping into the monolith. The soldiers unlucky enough to be caught within the process were added as part of the titanic creature. Blood dribbled down its exterior. Its face formed into Halvor’s countenance. He roared, the wind from his voice billowing Galiana’s cloak.
Similar, smaller shapes followed by the thousands. In as much time as it took an eye to blink, each one resolved into Sven several times their normal height.
They smashed into the Tribunal lines. The enemy formation shattered under the impact. Armor was no match for the stoneform creatures. They swatted aside Dagodin and Ashinshin with no more regard than if they were insects.
As disciplined as the Tribunal’s armies often were, the sight of small mountains with arms and legs tearing into their ranks sent them into a panic. Ashishin lashed out with their Forges. The attacks did more damage than good as they blasted into not only Sven but their own allies as well. The Sven bellowed before massive arms swung down to turn human bodies into pulp.
Galiana cringed as she watched the decimation. Years spent fighting the Harnan and the Sven in the Nevermore Heights resurfaced. She could imagine the horror these Matii experienced. It had been the same for her.
Not all the Tribunal’s soldiers faltered. Led by High Shin and the more battle-hardened Raijin, small pockets fought together. Instead of attacking with Forges, they relied on the divya they wielded. Using the power imbued into their armor, they became little more than red streaks that darted from one Sven to the next. They delved into fighting Styles and Stances too intricate for her to follow, each one an imitation of an essence. The squeal or ping of metal meeting stoneform flesh quickly became painful bellows.
Aegis of The Gods: Book 02 - Ashes and Blood Page 35