“Summoner Esset.” Once again, Esset almost jumped at the voice that was a hairsbreadth from his ear.
“Yes?” he hissed back.
“Can you bring back the carcass of one of the Reshkin?”
Esset gave the Nadra a curious look. Not that he could see him, not really. And it was entirely possible that they couldn’t read expressions in the dark any better than he could, even with heat-vision.
“I would imagine, yes,” he replied. “Why?”
“We have been unable to. And if we could study the venom, perhaps we could procure an antidote,” the Nadra replied. Then it occurred to Esset—yes, the Nadra’s words made sense. He remembered how the Reshkin had swarmed in and carried away the carcasses of their fallen, and how aggressive they’d been about it. Gaining a sample of the venom would be invaluable.
“If I bring back the whole body, the Reshkin might try to recover it,” Esset thought aloud. “But odds are, the venom sacs are in the head, likely near the fangs. If my summon only brings that back…” He trailed off as he formulated a plan.
Up ahead, one of the panthers left this plane with a small puff of smoke and flame. Silently, Esset summoned two wolves to take its place, sending both dashing down the tunnel towards the battle. They tag-teamed, one driving live Reshkin away from a carcass, the other tearing the head off the dead Reshkin and returning to them with it. The head made a sickening sound when dropped on the tunnel floor, and the odor arising from it was foul. Esset banished the wolves then and sent another panther down the tunnel again.
The summoner sensed more than saw or heard the Nadra next to him pick up the head and pass it to another warrior at the rear of the party. That warrior raced back to the city with the prize. Esset hoped they’d be able to devise a cure—or even a vaccination—from the venom sample. Fortunately, the Reshkin didn’t seem to have noticed that they’d lost part of a carcass. That had been Esset’s hope in leaving the rest of the carcass behind—they seemed to be almost obsessive about collecting their dead, so he’d wanted to leave something behind for them to collect. That, and it was easier for a wolf to carry off a head, and not the entire carcass of something nearly as big as it was.
“I’m banishing my summons—I want to see if they’ll retreat,” Esset whispered to his Nadran guard. They didn’t respond, so he assumed they were okay with that. With their usual puff of smoke and fire, both panthers vanished and the tunnel was plunged into absolute darkness.
Esset strained his ears and found himself twitching at each skitter, hiss, and click the Reshkin made in the darkness. The acoustics of the tunnel made it difficult to tell exactly how close they were, whether they were advancing or retreating or neither. He trusted the Nadra to tell him if he needed to summon something again, but it was nerve-racking to be forced to rely on them. He felt helpless in the darkness. He didn’t like feeling helpless.
The sounds of the Reshkin vanished around them, but Esset remained tense. There was a long silence, a silence made longer by the darkness. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the Nadra next to him whispered, “They are withdrawing.” Then there was another long silence before the warrior spoke normally and began moving.
“There, they are far enough away. Let us retrieve our equipment from the armory.”
Esset walked forward when he heard their scales moving on the floor again.
“There will be lanterns in the armory,” Nassata said behind him, much to Esset’s relief. At least she was aware of how uncomfortable this darkness was for him.
“Thank Hyrishal,” Esset said. They entered the armory, and Esset found that he had to step carefully—the footing was a bit slick, and part of him was glad that he couldn’t get a good look at the ground. One of the Nadra found and lit a lantern, and he chose to avoid looking at his feet. A soft glow filled the room, illuminating the Nadra, who were already hard at work collecting the weapons and piling them into great wheeled crates that were already in the room. Within minutes, the four crates were packed and they were heading back down the tunnel, each Nadra pushing a crate. Esset brought up the rear, grateful to leave the haunting tunnel behind them.
As promised, Toman and Kessa resumed their discussion when he took a break. He was true to his word—he worked faster when he could concentrate completely, and he gained momentum as he worked. He had a handful of rough-hewn soldiers with stone clubs ready to command. He hadn’t wasted much time on any unnecessary finer features—it was by general shape alone that they could be identified as human soldiers. Instead he just concentrated on quantity and their durability and such—considerations that mattered for the task at hand. He could care less about their aesthetics as long as they got the job done as effectively as possible.
“Phew. Well, that’s a good start,” Toman said, plopping down on a rock near Kessa. “So, ready to explain to me about the energies you mentioned?”
“I’d like to try,” Kessa responded. She collected her thoughts and then began. “So, there are certain things that we can see in the world. There’s the flow of water, that always takes the path of least resistance, but can wear away stone with enough persistence. There is heat, which flows from object to object—you can feel it at least, even if you can’t see it. There’s even the wind, and the sun. All of these energies we can feel through touch.
“But there are other energies too. Every time we move or do not move, there are different kinds of energy. For every emotion that is felt, different energies are created. Energies can come from color and sound, and different patterns in them. These are energies that exist but that we cannot touch with our bodies, but can with our souls. Magic is the bridge between those energies, as well as being a kind of energy itself.
“So, everything we do affects the energies around us. That is why peace is so important. If there is no peace, all the bad energies would tear us apart. Our souls would eventually become obliterated or lost in the energies. It’s only amongst peaceful energies that we can not only survive, but thrive.”
Toman considered her explanation and ended up nodding. “I suppose that makes sense,” he replied. It wasn’t a view he would ascribe to, but it certainly wasn’t irrational.
“Of course it makes sense!” Kessa replied indignantly. “It’s true!”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” Toman apologized. “I wasn’t assuming what you told me would be nonsense or something. All I meant was that these are new ideas to me, but they make sense anyways. I’m not the great thinker that Esset is. I’m smart enough, but when it comes to delving into the mysteries of our world… Well, I’m not interested like he is. I’m simpler that way, I guess. I believe in Bright Hyrishal—that’s our religion—and it makes sense too. And my religion isn’t something I can just abandon willy-nilly. I could give you an overview of my beliefs, but frankly, I probably wouldn’t do a very good job.”
“I’d like to hear,” responded Kessa, a little appeased and definitely curious.
Toman sighed but began collecting his thoughts to give a summary of the Church of Bright Hyrishal. “Well, here goes then,” Toman began. “Just remember, I suck at explaining things. If you still don’t understand when I’m done, you should ask Esset. So, Bright Hyrishal is our deity, a god above all others who’s good…and stuff. His symbol is fire—or Brightfire, rather. He’s opposed by the Darkfire, which is evil. So, y’know, good versus evil. Bright Hyrishal wants people to be good, and to do good, and the Darkfire just wants there to be evil everywhere. Everyone has a little light and a little darkness inside them, but the point is for the light to win.” Toman stopped. That was the worst explanation he’d ever heard, and he’d just said it. A two year old could have done better.
“I…suppose that makes sense?” Kessa replied, echoing his earlier words tentatively. Kessa and Toman stared at each other for a moment, then simultaneously burst out laughing. Something about the moment just seemed so monumentally ridiculous. There was an undercurrent of an “S” to Kessa’s giggles, an involun
tary Nadran addition to laughter. After a minute or two, they finally started to get a hold of themselves.
“Oh Brightfire,” Toman gasped. “Really, just ask Esset. I’ll only butcher it more. It’ll be a long explanation, and really detailed and complicated, but at least he won’t sound like a moron like me.”
“Perhaps I shall, sometime. But I would not have missed that for the world,” she replied.
“Gee, thanks,” Toman retorted with a wide grin. “Well, since I’ve managed to completely humiliate myself, I’m now going to attempt to regain my pride by doing something impressive. Something I do rather a lot better than explain even the simplest elements of theology, apparently.” Toman stood as he spoke, and went back to his place, crouched with his palms on the ground.
“I am sure there are many things you do better,” Kessa agreed demurely, but with a slight hint of mischief in her voice.
“Brightfire, I hope so,” Toman muttered under his breath. As he closed his eyes, he heard her soft hissing laughter as he returned to work.
Another day, another dark tunnel. Esset had to jog to keep up with the quick pace the slithering Nadra kept. Nassata kept a hand on his shoulder to guide him in the darkness.
“Where to today?” Esset asked. They had just passed the first line of sentries.
“There is a choke point down this tunnel,” Nassata explained. “We lost it barely two sevendays past. The Reshkin were clever in their attacks, taking advantage of a…mischance on our part. If we can recapture the tunnel to that point, we should be able to hold it indefinitely.”
Esset wondered what the mischance was, but she had phrased the explanation delicately, so he decided not to pry.
“Have you heard on Toman’s progress then? I haven’t had time to inquire recently,” she asked, delicately changing the subject.
“Honestly, me neither. This will be what, our fifth blitz attack? How long…I can’t track time underground like this,” Esset confessed as he tried to guess how much progress Toman would have made. Esset and the Nadra had returned to the city between attacks, leaving Nadran sentries behind at each battle-site and replenishing their numbers before heading out again. He’d also snatched a few catnaps and some food, but time seemed to flow differently without day and night to track it. Everything seemed to take longer in the eternal underground night. He wondered how long it would take to get used to the conditions—if he could get used to them at all.
He understood the grueling pace though. At this point, surprise was still on Esset’s side. The Reshkin had yet to devise a way to effectively combat his summons, and both the summoner and the Nadra intended to make good on that.
“I honestly don’t know,” Esset finally said. “We’ve been underground what, two or three days now?” He felt tired enough for that to be true. He wasn’t exhausted yet, but another day at this pace would probably put him there.
“We’re almost there,” Nassata said instead of responding, her voice quiet.
Within minutes, they met the outer sentries and then waited in the darkness as Esset’s two fiery panthers ripped another hole in the Reshkin swarm. It was another sickening serenade of clattering, hissing, and roaring, complemented with the stench of burning Reshkin entrails and unsettling flashes of light on glossy carapaces. Esset was still trying to find the balance between concentrating to keep his creatures on task and detaching himself to keep from vomiting from the smells, sights, and sounds. At least he only had to concentrate on one front.
“Hie! Reshkin to the rear!”
The call snapped Esset out of his thoughts. He’d been mostly paying attention to the battle, but with little to no visual stimuli to track, it was all too easy to draw inwards while his summons fought and he waited. Good thing it wasn’t the same for the Nadra.
“Pull your summons back!” A heavy Nadran hand on Esset’s shoulder accompanied the order. Instead of obeying, Esset banished both and re-summoned them nearer the group, one facing down the tunnel one way, the other on the opposite side of the group, facing the other way. Esset held them in place, waiting for more information from the Nadra before letting them loose again.
“Are the Reshkin advancing from both sides now?” Esset asked, not giving the Nadra a chance to forget that he couldn’t see the Reshkin coming.
“Yes, and quickly. City-side is twice the distance away than the far side, but far side has closed the distance they were at by half,” the warrior replied. Esset didn’t waste another second in letting the panther on the far side go. He counted to five, then released the panther on the city-side. They met the oncoming waves of Reshkin at an approximately equal distance from the group in opposite directions. Esset wasn’t liking this at all. There was nowhere for the small group to go, and their position was not very defensible.
“The tunnel is too wide for one on each side to guard—watch for Reshkin slipping past the summons!” Esset warned them. He drew his dirk, knowing that it would be petty protection against a Reshkin but feeling better for it anyways. He wondered if he should banish the cats and summon wolves—he could call on four of those, after all. But two cats were still stronger than four wolves, and he wasn’t sure the numbers would make a substantial enough difference, especially when swapping them out would leave a temporary gap. Deciding they wouldn’t be worth it, he left things as they were.
Esset felt a sudden surge of relief as a lantern was lit behind him. He hadn’t realized that he’d nearly stopped breathing from pure terror at the unseen menaces in the darkness until the light had illuminated the passage. He swallowed and breathed, trying to get his head into a space where he could fight—and not just through his summons.
The Nadra encircled him, knowing that his survival would best ensure theirs. The panthers kept the bulk of the forces at bay, but some were slipping past. Nassata swept aside a Reshkin with her spear-butt, tossing it back into the swarm just in time to skewer a second Reshkin with a precise thrust into a glittering eye. Another Nadra helped her free her spearhead with the butt of his own in a swift, practiced gesture, but they both had to dance out of the way before a third could bite them; it was driven back as Nassata’s spearhead swung back around.
Esset stayed crouched in the center of the Nadra, trying to watch every direction at once so that he could dodge out of the way or press an attack as needed. He also had to keep a corner of his mind and some of his gaze on his summons, too, for them to be effective. He scolded himself for having gotten too used to sitting back and letting them fight without engaging himself as well, as he was finding the task more difficult than he remembered during the Baliyan war.
The Nadra, meanwhile, were hard pressed to kill the Reshkin that made it past the summons, given that they were trying to avoid that deadly bite. A copper Nadra fended away a Reshkin with spear-blows that bounced off the creature’s carapace. He tried to stab at the creature’s eyes, but he couldn’t keep up with the Reshkin’s darting attacks as it tried to sink its fangs into his coils. Finally another Nadra aided him, coming in from the right angle to bash the Reshkin against the wall with a mace; Esset heard a crunching sound as the impact cracked the Reshkin’s carapace.
The lights reflected strangely on the battle. Beyond the Nadra, a panther opened its jaws, emitting a flare of light, but the flare was inevitably brief as those fiery jaws closed around an unfortunate Reshkin a moment later. That yellow light conflicted with the strange, colorless light emitted from the Nadran lantern. And every light cast in the dark tunnel was prone to have shadows cast from it; leaping, dashing, contorting, squirming shadows, shadows that hid monsters while seeming to be monsters themselves.
Those shadows nearly cost Esset his life. A Reshkin darted forward under the brief cover of one patch of darkness, right between the two Nadra on that side. Esset braced himself to defend, even as he knew his dirk would be next to useless in keeping those twitching mandibles away from him. The Reshkin hissed and leapt. Esset raised his dirk, and a spear darted over his shoulder. The Reshkin swall
owed the point, impaled, and halted barely an arm’s length from Esset’s nose. Esset gulped, and Nassata swung her spear up and slammed the dead Reshkin down atop one of its advancing kindred. There was no time to thank her as the battle continued.
The tunnel was filled with the strange sounds and stenches of a battle between the Reshkin and the Nadra and the summoner. The serrated Reshkin feet skittered and scratched on the floor, and they made strange hisses and clicks as they fought. The Nadra hissed too—far louder and more varied sounds. Then there was the swish of scales on smooth stone, and the crackle of flame from the summons. Burnt Reshkin flesh stank in the air, nearly choking Esset. Metal spear-butts clattered against the floor occasionally as the Reshkin were warded away by quick, striking blows from the weapons and slashing sweeps of the spearheads.
“There!” one of the Nadra suddenly yelled, and Esset felt strong Nadran arms sweep him off his feet as they made a break to push through the Reshkin swarm. Esset nearly dropped his dirk when he was picked up, but he only let shock preoccupy him for a moment. In the next, he was pulling the panthers in close to them to help clear the way. It was wise of them not to put him down—his inability to see in the dark would no doubt put them all in jeopardy now that the lit lantern had been left behind.
Somehow, they made it through, but the Nadra didn’t stop moving until they’d put a great deal of distance between themselves and the battleground. Esset pulled back his panthers on rearguard, ignoring the pain in his shoulders—both had been wrenched during their escape. They only stopped when they reached a squad of five more Nadra heading their way.
Calling On Fire (Book 1) Page 15