At the sound of a scream, I turned to see Flitwicket go down. Zach swerved and ran back for her. At least twenty brown rodents swarmed over her legs. Kirth arrived at her side, hacking away, but as each deech died, another took its place.
The animals crawled up Zach’s legs too, biting into the thick leather around his thighs. A large one hung on his belt, its teeth gleaming as it hissed. Zach yelled and stumbled backwards, falling on the attacking rodents. A large deech sank its vampiric canines into his skin. Howling in pain, Zach tried to bat the deech away, but its fangs embedded even farther. A flash of light zipped over Zach’s head. Flitwicket stood above him, her shield glowing like the sun. She reached down and took his hand, the light repelling the deeches, their hisses audible in the darkness.
With each movement, Zach moaned, sliding in and out of consciousness. Venom from a deech bite wasn’t poisonous enough to kill, but it was poisonous enough to incapacitate. Kirth heaved him up into the air, and his face bumped against the pixie’s tiny feet as he hung over his slender shoulders, which caused a nosebleed. Kirth was barely tall enough to keep Zach’s face from dragging on the ground.
I watched the whole thing from right behind, and I would have laughed if teeny tiny vampires hadn’t been chasing us. It was at that point that the rodents overwhelmed me, climbing up my legs like spiders. If Dardanos hadn’t picked me up and carried me the rest of the way, I’d be dead now. My legs burned as though hundreds of needles had been driven through my skin, and they truly had. There wasn’t time to think about it because I suddenly vaulted into the air, flying at least six feet before landing hard on the rocky ground.
Air exploded from my lungs, and I gasped, not able to suck in even one breath. This was worse than being under water. My ribs burned with a fire like I’d never felt before. Lifting my head, I saw the whole earth move like living water—a tidal wave of deeches scampering after us.
“We’re almost there!” Kirth yelled, picking himself up and grabbing Zach’s arm. They’d been tripped by the killer rats too. The foot of the mountains was only a few feet away. We crawled, creeped, and grappled for the edge, the deeches clinging to our legs and arms. By some miracle, we made it.
The deeches wouldn’t cross the field line. A warding spell along the mountain made them refuse to follow. Instead, the horde screeched at us with deafening volume, raking the air with their talons.
I lay sprawled on the ground, frozen in horror at the sight.
Long shadows appeared as bushes and boulders came into view. Zach scrambled a bit farther up the mountain. The others followed, wanting only to escape. I found a spot on the other side of a large bush and collapsed.
“Is everyone all right?” Kirth asked.
“I am,” Zach said. “Where’s Lauren?” he asked, hissing in agony, letting his head fall back to the ground.
I could hear their voices, but I couldn’t see them, and I was too exhausted to even answer, my throat raw from all the hysterical screaming I’d done. Dardanos lay beside me, breathing heavily, his eyes scrunched closed in obvious pain.
Zach called out again. “Lauren?” his voice rising in panic. “Where are Lauren and Dardanos?”
“They were right behind me,” Flitwicket said, searching from where she sat.
“Oh no! I’m going back.”
I couldn’t let him go back onto the field, so I pulled it together and croaked out his name. “Zach!”
From the darkness, Dardanos and I emerged drenched in shadow. We stumbled along, covered in cuts, puncture wounds, and scratches. I dropped down beside Zach and threw my arms around him. Dardanos fell beside me, holding his side, his legs dripping with thick, dark blood.
“Flitwicket!” Zach called. “Over here.”
“I’ll get my bandages,” she answered before hurrying toward us.
“Good thing we have a healer with us,” Zach said, smiling at me.
Flitwicket handed him a few bandages, which he quickly pressed against every wound he could see on me. When I seemed to be resting easy, he went to work on his own wounds, sighing in relief as he covered each hole with a magic bandage. Flitwicket did the same for Dardanos.
After a short reprieve, Kirth searched the area with a practiced eye. “There’s a trail here somewhere, with a large boulder that marks the way. Are you all ready?”
I wasn’t. I could have stayed there all night and fallen asleep on the unforgiving, rocky ground, but we couldn’t rest any longer. We had to find that outpost. “I’m sore, but okay.”
“Me too,” Zach said. “Thank goodness for magic.”
I pulled myself to my feet and stuck my hand out to help Dardanos. Dardanos had saved me, and I wanted to save him right back. He gave me a slow smile and squeezed my hand, and then we began hunting for this mysterious trail Kirth had told us about. We hunted for a half hour before Flitwicket called to us. “I think this is it.”
A large, gray stone stood in the night, blocking any visible path. We maneuvered around its girth and hiked up a few feet, finding the path by bolli light. Kirth started up first, the steep hill difficult to climb. Thorn-covered bushes slowed our pace and left thorns embedded in our clothing, causing an itchy irritation that nearly drove me to tears.
“Stop scratching,” Kirth whispered. “You’ll make it worse.”
I let out a growl as a bush caught my hair, yanking my head backward. “Why did they pick such a stupid spot for an outpost?” I get cranky when I’m tired, hungry, injured, and running for my life.
“Because no one would ever look here,” Flitwicket said, laughing and picking thorns from her own hair. “And they keep a couple of pegasi on site for emergencies.”
“Well, that’s cool!” Zach said.
I was sure he’d used a Pegasus hundreds of times as he played the game. He probably couldn’t wait to see one in real life. Truth be told, neither could I. Ten minutes later, I got my wish. The magical beasts rested next to the camp entrance with their eyes closed, their coats glistening in the firelight. I stepped forward to touch one, but two dryad guards drew their weapons.
“State your name and business!” one called out.
“I’m Kirth, pixie tracker for the Guild, son of the house of Oakenfield. I have just received important news. I need to speak with Trian, the sorcerer, immediately.”
The guard stepped forward, peering into Kirth’s face. “You may pass.”
We found the old sorcerer in a tent, getting ready for bed. “Why Kirth, my old friend, what brings you out this way?”
“We,” he pointed to all of us, “were privy to some important information this morning. The Legion plans to attack all major Guild cities at midnight tonight. It’s timed and calculated. You must warn the Guild!”
Kalika swore under her breath as she walked down the dusty path with her regiment, her hands gripping her weapons.
“What are you thinking, my silent friend?” Nona asked, stepping in beside her. Nona’s short, curly hair framed her face, bouncing as she marched.
“You don’t want to know,” Kalika answered. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking that since we’re attacking a rich halfling city, I ought to get some good loot! Hopefully, a new set of armor, and maybe a new knife.”
It was a typical answer from a typical Legion soldier, but Kalika wasn’t typical anymore, and she wished her friend wasn’t either. Should she confide in Nona? Should she reveal her true feelings? She was more than tempted, but remained silent as they jogged the dusty road to Stonehammer. All the while, her insides were in tight knots.
Kalika wouldn’t be surprised if other soldiers felt the way she did. Most had families and would rather be home with them. Just because the Legion was formed of werewolves, ogres and zombies—who really were disgusting—didn’t mean they were all bad.
Zombies were not true beings, but the living dead, resurrected after having lived a mortal life as a soldier. The Warlord paid his sorcerers to grow his army, and they did�
�in the form of rotting, honorless corpses, which were terrible to fight beside. They smelled like rotting meat, not to mention they looked even worse, with all that decaying flesh hanging from their bloody bones.
“Will our regiment be the only one in Stonehammer, or will others meet there to fight with us?” Kalika wondered aloud, figuring this was a safe topic to discuss.
“I think others will come. There’s no way we can take a city that size without help.”
“I don’t know,” Kalika said. “They don’t know we’re coming, and the Guild army is spread thin.” She thought of all the sleeping children whose lives would soon be snuffed out. The Warlord had ordered that no one be spared. Every step closer formed a hot knot of boiling acid in her belly. Her first visit to Stonehammer would be one of slaughter.
Just before midnight, the Legion army stopped, hiding in the trees on either side of the road, the tall iron gates of Stonehammer not fifty feet away. Two soldiers scouted ahead for sentries. Moments later, she heard the cries of Guild guards as their lives were ended. A small contingent of invisible maverick soldiers crept forward, scaling the walls quietly, entering the unsuspecting city.
The iron doors swung open, and the rest of the Legion army rushed in, bent on destruction. Most Legion patriots hated the Guild, deep running feuds and grudges grew, alive and well, and the Warlord seemed to do everything in his power to fuel those flames of hatred, to the point of spreading lies Kalika knew for a fact weren’t true. So this opportunity, for many of her comrades, was one of payback and revenge. She knew they’d show no mercy to the victims that fell under their swords. Not to mention the rampaging, raping, and looting that would surely take place.
Kalika heard the screams of fear as halflings woke to their worst nightmares. She ran deep into the city, hoping her compatriots wouldn’t notice her banging on doors and yelling out warnings. The Stonehammer citizens wouldn’t understand her language, but at least they’d be awake. If her regiment caught up, she would either feign injury or be shot dead as a traitor.
Stonehammer citizens rushed from their homes. They weren’t soldiers or fighters, but shopkeepers, bakers, and merchants. One short, rotund man charged Kalika, raising his fist. She blocked his slow, clumsy strikes without effort and without hurting him, swirling around the man, and flipping through the air in an arc, landing behind him.
He turned on heavy feet, searching for her, but she hid in the shadows, relieved that she wouldn’t have to kill him. She touched her forehead and thought, “Conceal,” becoming invisible. The Legion soldiers would still be able to see her, so she would have to be careful, but at least she would be saving lives.
Creeping with her weapons out, she tiptoed past the man who had previously attacked her—close enough to smell the salty tang of his body odor. He rested against his home, panting after the exertion of their fight.
A werewolf soldier jumped around the corner, startling her. She almost yelped in surprise. He saw the halfling man and, without hesitation stabbed him through the heart, killing him instantly. The man slid to the ground, a fat stripe of blood staining the wall behind him.
Kalika paused in astonishment. The werewolf turned and charged after someone else. Suddenly, lights flashed on, and warning bells began to peel. Guild soldiers poured from the city barracks like a tidal wave drowning the enemy, but too late to save the hundreds already dead.
Kalika pulled back, hiding in the shadows, refusing to fight these innocent, defenseless people. This wasn’t a fair, honorable battle. They should be fighting soldiers, not sleepy mothers and children.
The Guild army rained down over the Legion ranks, slaughtering Kalika’s battalion. The cacophony rang in her ears like the banging of metal drums, and she covered them to drown out the cries of her friends, which she knew would haunt her for the rest of her days, as she was part of the reason they were dying. She was a traitor and could never go home.
She crouched in the dark, guilt eating away at her. She shouldn’t be hiding, letting her brothers die. But if she fought with them, she would die too and not be able to bring her plan to defeat the Warlord to fruition. She had to stop him. She would stop him.
Her next thought brought her head up in a snap. “Nona!” Grabbing the cloak from a dead Guild soldier, Kalika wrapped it around herself and ran toward the fighting. The Guild had devoured the Legion army like gulls over locusts. She searched every lifeless face until she found her friend lying in the blood-filled street, her face staring blindly into the sky.
She stopped, staring, unable to move forward and refusing to move back. Blood had splattered her friend’s face, and Nona’s head lay turned in an unnatural position, her lips parted in an eternal scream. Slowly and gently, Kalika lifted her body and carried it to a dark, shaded alley across the street, and held her—smoothing her hair and closing her eyes. There she sat, rocking her dear friend’s body until the sun came up over the looming mountains.
Zach, Kirth, and I were assigned one Pegasus, as we were smaller, and Dardanos and Flitwicket rode the other.
I was not happy, and if you don’t remember the “walking up the tree to get trained” incident, let me refresh your memory. I hate heights. I avoid them at all cost.
“I want to ride with Dardanos,” I said, stating my argument without having to come right out and tell the truth. “What if I slide off? He can hold onto me.” I didn’t mean to sound pouty, but I knew it came out that way, especially since I’d folded my arms over my chest like a petulant child. I admit, I was being defiant, but nobody really knew about my fear of heights yet, and I wanted the strongest person there to hold onto me. It wasn’t just because I liked him. Well, maybe a little.
Zach gritted his teeth, looking like he wanted to punch me. “We don’t have time for your theatrics, Lauren. Just get on.”
“No.”
It was Dardanos who finally talked me into riding with Kirth and Zach, promising to fly as close as possible. Kirth placed me between him and Zach. I hid my face in Kirth’s back pretty much the entire way, which was hard, because he was way shorter than I was.
Zach, on the other hand, let the wind whip through his hair as we all vaulted out over the deech field, my screams trailing in our wake. The flying horses spread their powerful wings and pumped them against the current.
Zach whooped and hollered. “This is definitely the way to go! This is the best thing we’ve done so far!”
I disagreed.
The flight took over an hour, and we landed just outside Stonehammer’s high, protective rock walls. We didn’t even try to hide, but ran full speed toward the open gates. Realizing for the first time that Kirth’s war-pet had disappeared, and knowing we’d need its help in case we battled, I asked Kirth where his spider had gone.
“I sent him away yesterday,” Kirth answered as we sped forward. “Giant spiders are too conspicuous when you’re trying to hide. I can call him back at any time, from anywhere in the world, with this whistle.” He held up a shining, silver slip of metal, then drew it to his lips and blew. I heard nothing, but within seconds Trilly appeared, eight legs spinning and fangs dripping.
“That is truly incredible,” I said, almost wishing for a war-pet of my own. Too bad priestesses didn’t get them. Only trackers.
We rounded the first bend in the city, just past the inn, and stopped in horrified shock. The streets were clogged with bodies.
Dead bodies.
Guild healers moved from patient to patient trying their best to repair the physical damage, but many people still lay moaning and bleeding on the wide streets. Flitwicket ran forward, her face grim, pulling out her medicine bag. I followed her, copying her every move, but feeling dazed in this immense sea of misery. I stared at all the wounded people, the metallic stink of blood coating everything. I tried to hold my breath, but felt my stomach twist.
Flitwicket placed her arm around me. “War is awful. Many go to battle thinking it will be grand and glorious. Death is not grand, nor glorious.”
“I’ve never seen anything like this,” I said, holding my churning stomach. “In a game it seems harmless.”
“A game?” Dardanos remarked, shaking his head. “I know of no war game that is harmless.”
I closed my eyes, trying to block out the scene before me. Glancing around, I searched for Zach. How was he taking this? He ran frantically, pulling the living away from the dead, laying them on the cool grass off to the side. He hurried from one casualty to another, trying to save as many as he could, never tiring that I could tell. Tears ran from his eyes though, dripping in a stream that he never bothered to wipe away.
Flitwicket and I joined him on the grass, trying unsuccessfully to heal them all.
I waited cross-legged on the crimson-stained lawn watching a drop of blood slide down a slender blade of grass. I had just closed the eyes of a little boy Flitwicket and Lauren hadn’t been able to save. So many dead children. I continued to wander around, placing magic bandages on everyone.
The Guild cities had been warned, but not in time to save everyone. I had never seen anything so horrible, and I knew the lifeless eyes of these people would haunt my dreams for years to come, tormenting me with what-ifs.
How would we bury them all?
The sun rose high, beating down and warming the dead bodies that still lay strewn in the street. I tried to tear my eyes away, to think of something happy, but I couldn’t. I consoled myself with the thought that it could have been worse, imagining what it would look like if we hadn’t been able to warn the Guild, but… many people were still alive—all throughout the land—because of us, but that wouldn’t bring back those who weren’t.
I kept telling myself it wasn’t real, it was only a game, only a game, only a game.
Why didn’t I believe that anymore?
“How are you holding up?” Flitwicket asked, plopping down next to me, her clothes stained a deep red.
“I’m okay, I guess.”
“This is your first time at war?”
“Yeah.”
“It never gets easier, but the first time is the hardest. The children are what bother me most.” She leaned close and covered my hand with hers.
The Eye of Tanub Page 15