Layela felt a shiver run down her spine, and wished for the sun — a safe and gentle sun — to warm her.
CHAPTER 41
Yoma and Layela walked side by side, following Zortan in silence. The shields barely sparked and would soon collapse. The Malavants would be fighting to stay alive, and to buy them the time they needed.
Yoma looked ahead, her steps faltering for a second as the buildings gave way to a courtyard. In that courtyard, past a bridge, was the temple. Its old stones gleamed in the light of dawn, as though bleached by sunlight a long time ago and unyielding to the forces that had wounded so many other buildings. The symbol of Mirial was above the temple. Yoma shivered, remembering the vision. Her hand fell to her gun as Zortan stopped just outside the courtyard, pulling his sword free.
“What’s wrong?” Layela whispered, her eyes wide. Yoma grabbed her sister’s hand, and Layela looked at her. She was certain the same fear was reflected in her own eyes.
“Not yet,” Zortan said, stepping carefully into the courtyard and keeping an eye out. Layela and Yoma still held hands, both remembering the vision, both remembering the warm blood as they crossed the bridge.
Yoma squeezed Layela’s hand and smiled at her. Layela smiled back, the fear still deep in her eyes.
“Stay close,” she mouthed and Layela nodded.
Stay close, Yoma finished the thought, so that when the blow comes, I can take it for you.
i
“So, you like her?” Avienne teased her brother as he leaned over the side of the rampart to check that nothing blocked the nozzle of the gun.
“So, you like your teeth?” Ardin replied with a grin as he hopped back down.
“I knew it!” Avienne grinned and waited for Ardin to take a deep gulp from the water skin she handed him, timing her words. “I’ve always wanted nieces and nephews!”
Ardin spat out the water, and Avienne barely caught the skin as he tossed it at her head.
“How are your guns?” Loran called from the other rampart, her team milling around her. Just over two hundred souls to stop an army seemed foolish to Avienne, but she wasn’t about to desert her brother now, and she knew he wouldn’t leave Layela. Besides, she thought, this place isn’t much, but if we manage to win the day, it could be home. One that I don’t even have to drag Ardin to!
Ardin shouted at Loran, “They’re fine! Yours?”
“Seem to be working!”
He waved and turned back to his sister, who was watching Loran.
“That woman completely froze on the bridge when we were attacked by wraiths,” Avienne said quietly. She looked down towards the valley stretching below them. Dawn was just beginning to blanket the dead grounds that would soon be overrun with monsters — monsters that frightened her and made her skin crawl. Yet, she would face them. She had to.
“Everyone finds their courage at some point,” Ardin replied. It was one of Cailan’s old sayings. Avienne felt a heartstring resonate at the familiar words and she smiled.
“You’re right, they do,” she said, and Ardin shot her a grin.
“Getting contemplative in your old age, little sister,” he teased. She was about to reply when the sky cracked. The shields turned white for a split second, then vanished. Avienne and Ardin stood frozen for an instant, looking out at the oozing army quickly closing ground toward the capital.
“Guns!” Loran shouted from the other rampart, and Avienne shot a grin at Ardin as they each manned one. They only had five shots per weapon, so they waited.
“Prepare weapons!” Ardin yelled. The rest of the Mirialers were protected by the ramparts, their weapons aimed out of old artillery holes. They would do nothing more than slow the creatures down, but that was all that was needed. Time.
Engines gunned and the Victory, the last ship to leave, flew overhead, warm air playing in the loose strands of Avienne’s hair as she waved at them. The engines kicked into high gear and then all that remained of her was the sonic boom she left behind, and a streak in the sky as she escaped the atmosphere.
Avienne took a deep breath and focused again on the army. The smell of tar struck her nostrils and made her gag. The creatures gurgled towards them.
“Loran, fire!” Ardin screamed across. Loran fired the first shot, and Ardin paired it with one of his own. The two blue bombs exploded in the midst of inky black. Some creatures melted and vanished in smoke, and others shrieked and shied away from the blue light. A few seconds later, the ether had vanished and the hole was already filling with more creatures.
Ardin cast a look at Avienne. She grinned at him and cocked her head sideways. “What? Didn’t you know that heroics require shedding blood?”
He gave her a slight grin and she turned back, firing her weapon. Counting the creatures and the seconds the bomb had bought them, she quickly realized, as had Ardin, that it would not be enough. Three more shots were fired, but still the creatures closed in fast.
“Fire all weapons!” Ardin screamed, his voice echoing off the broken buildings below. “For Mirial!”
The cry echoed back to him. The Mirialers fired their weapons, but the creatures were only marginally slowed by them. Avienne held the trigger for a second longer, finally pushing down on it. The gun gave a satisfying thump as it fired its last shot. The bomb landed in the middle of the creatures.
“Three, two, and one,” she counted. The creatures were swallowed the hole by the end of the countdown.“That was my last shot.” Avienne leaned against the gun, watching the creatures get closer.
Ardin fired his gun one more time, and Avienne looked with detached interest at the landing explosion.
Three, two and one.
“One more, but let’s wait until they’re just a bit closer.” Ardin backed away from his gun and took a swig of water, handing the skin to his sister. She took a deep swig from it as Ardin aimed the large gun towards a nearby bell tower, the metal creaking in protest.
“I think I’m getting used to this stuff,” she said with a grin.
Ardin shook his head. “I guess I did witness a miracle this day.”
Avienne secured her belt of knives. She had twenty-four, and had counted them many times to make sure. If the ether in them was strong enough to kill one creature, she could take out twenty-four. And at the monsters’ current speed and sheer number, they would close the hole in under three seconds. The knives were too short to wield against the creatures — they would have to rely on the longer blade for that. Even if her brother was good with a sword, he was unpractised in real battle. And, despite the Mirialers’ wish to help, only she and her brother had ether weapons. They had barely been holding ground for five minutes, and already they were losing.
The creatures had neared the ramparts when Ardin fired his last shot. The bright green shell sped over the creatures, sending a few scattering in the wake of its heat, and struck the ivory tower near its foundation. Energy rippled the stones and a blast hurtled from it, sending the siblings to take cover as the tower toppled and fell into the black creatures, its bell tolling a final plaintive cry.
The Malavants stood back up, Avienne taking another deep swig as Ardin stared intently and waited for the curtain of dust to fade. As the cloud dissipated, they heard the creatures before they saw them. They were climbing the ramparts, barely slowed by the tower. The creatures grunted their way up the other rampart first. Loran and her two teammates drew their guns. Ardin took a step towards them, but Avienne held him back.
“They’re too far away, and this is our best ground for fighting.” Ardin nodded and stood his ground, watching Loran until he lost her in the maze of darkness.
Avienne felt the wall shake and saw the first monster approach.
“Blood and bones, this is a smelly way to go,” she muttered, unsheathing her first knife. She let it fly, followed by her second. Dark creatures tumbled before her, but were replaced too quickly.
She hoped she would find a way to keep her promise to Yoma.
&n
bsp; i
Layela paid attention to every sound, every smell, every change in the wind. Anything to tell her what might strike. She knew her sister did the same as she walked beside her, their hands still firmly clutched.
The vision had shown them many details, but never how the blood had come to flow so freely. Zortan was not far, scouting a few metres ahead, his walk tense as they approached the shadows of the great temple.
Her steps wavered and she took a deep breath as the shield vanished and the Victory flew away. They all paused. Seconds, maybe even a minute passed before they heard the first shots fired by the Malavant siblings and their makeshift army.
The capital fell silent for a few seconds, and then thunder shook the ground below them, a bell tolling loudly.
The tolling of bells. Ardin! Could that be the bell, tolling Ardin’s final moments? She knew a bell was part of his end, but she had been unwilling to see the vision. She had believed it wouldn’t matter, that the future could not be stopped or changed. What if she had been wrong? What if she could have saved him?
She felt her heart lurch and Yoma squeezed her hand. Layela turned to look at her sister, seeing her questioning look. She swallowed hard, the echoes of the bell forming a lump in her throat. Looking deep into her sister’s green eyes, Layela tried to find the same truths Yoma had seen, wondering if death haunted her as well.
Then a movement behind Yoma caught her eyes, glinting red in the vanishing moonlight.
Mists clouded her vision for just a second, all thoughts of Ardin vanishing as she saw the blade that would take her, and she felt the pain in her back. She could avoid the blow, this she knew, since she had seen where it would land on her. But to do so would mean that Yoma might take it for her.
Yoma!
“Yoma!” Layela screamed, pushing her sister aside as the last of the mist vanished. She was not quick enough to avoid the blow herself, twisting but still too slow. A tight grip closed around her throat and a knife hovered between two ribs below her left breast. The blade lingered but, save for the prick of its tip, did not pierce her.
“Layela!” she heard Yoma scream. She fell to her knees, looking into Dunkat’s familiar eyes — familiar, but different, laced with a hatred that hadn’t been there before.
A dark wave suddenly extended from him, seconds before she heard Yoma grunt behind her. She wanted to turn and make sure she was all right, but Dunkat held her chin. He lowered his face near hers, raising her eyes to look deep into them as though seeking out the ether. She managed to bring up her arms, trying to pull him off her, but his hand still held the knife that pricked her tender skin.
“The ironic thing is,” Dunkat said, his breath reeking of tar, “that this is the ceremonial knife used to kill a twin at birth.”
With those words he drove the knife home, sheathing it between her ribs. Layela gasped at the pain. He still clutched her chin in his hand, hungry for the spark of pain in her eyes. She tasted blood, felt her body grow warm and heavy. Mists crowded her vision for a moment, showing her own death, which she had failed to avoid. Her last hope was that she had saved her sister. The last thing she saw was victory flashing in Dunkat’s eyes.
CHAPTER 42
Layela,” Yoma pushed herself back up, forcing her bruised body to move. Zortan was beside her in an instant. Dunkat crouched near Layela’s crumpled body, as though waiting to see if she would rise.
“Get away from her!” Yoma screamed and ran towards him. Zortan grabbed her arm and flung her back behind him just as Dunkat extended his arm again, sending another dark wave towards them. This time Zortan was ready, and he held up his sword and sliced it to harmless mist.
Dunkat looked at the sword with interest, and Zortan swung it downwards. Ether crackled in an arc towards Dunkat, hitting him square in the chest and shoving him away from Layela.
Zortan quickly closed the gap and stood between Layela and Dunkat. Yoma ran to her sister.
“Layela,” she whispered, rolling her onto her back. Her face was pale and drawn, blood drying at the corner of her lips. The knife was deep, and Yoma didn’t dare to pull it out for fear her sister would bleed to death.
“Layela.” She bent closer, feeling a slight, thready pulse and her sister’s laboured breath. “I think he pierced a lung,” Yoma said. The loss her visions had promised crystallized as she spoke.
“Take her and go, quickly!” Zortan said without turning. Yoma put Layela’s arm around her shoulder and whispered comforting words as she dragged her sister toward the temple.
“One down,” she heard Dunkat say, although two voices seemed to be coming from his mouth. “One more to go.” She turned briefly to see Zortan stopping another wave of darkness, ether crackling in the air as they collided.
“Go! Now!” Zortan screamed and Yoma moved faster, air like fire in her lungs as she stepped onto the bridge. She wanted to scream at Zortan to follow them, remembering his promise that he would die before them, but she needed all of her strength just to carry Layela safely to the temple.
She pushed harder, the ether behind her so heavy it sapped the air around them.
She fought back tears as she crossed the bridge, looking down to see Layela’s dangling hand covered in her own blood.
i
The creatures came without pause and Avienne clutched two knives. She downed another close one. The ether in the knives was more powerful than she had dared to hope. Another creature leapt through the vanishing smoke and she struck, but was misbalanced as she swung around to slay another.
She fell hard.
“Off!” she screamed as she felt her leg being sucked in. “Once is enough!” She threw a knife into the creature, and then quickly tried to retrieve it. Before she could get to it, another creature had already moved up into its spot.
“That’s less than three seconds,” she mumbled, backing up, and used the wall to push herself to her feet. Ardin swung his sword as he closed ranks with her, sweat plastering his hair. She felt pride swell in her breast.
“So, I was thinking,” Avienne said casually.
“Really?” Ardin sounded surprised. Avienne wished she could kick him without getting him killed.
“Maybe I’d like you to teach me how to use one of those swords,” she finished.
He grinned, and nodded without breaking his stride.
“Consider it a deal,” he said, his words broken by increasing fatigue. A creature closed on him, and Avienne threw her last knife. Ardin screamed and lowered his blade. Below them the ramparts cracked, and more screams could be heard. The creatures were through and feeding on the few survivors of Mirial.
On the horizon, the moon was now black, a red outline around it. The setting moon and rising sun were forming an eclipse, and the light that broke through was scorching the hills in the distance. Whatever life remained burned at the simple touch of the sun’s rays.
The sun was rising.
And there was nowhere left to hide.
i
The creatures came in waves, like slime oozing between the buildings of the capital, which meant the Malavants had failed and probably already fallen. Zortan pushed the thought out of his mind and concentrated on his enemy.
Black lightning sizzled from Groosh’s fingers and crackled on Zortan’s sword, so powerful that it nicked the blade. Zortan could feel his strength chip away with each new attack, through the deep link he shared with his sword after years of wielding its powers.
“I thought it was you,” Dunkat said, taking a step forward. Zortan placed his right foot back and held his sword before him, forcing his breath to remain steady and not betray his fatigue. “My parents died because of what you did. Because you took the heirs. You didn’t stick around to see the consequences, but trust me, it was quite a show.” He smiled, his teeth blackened with tar, the darkness in his eyes absorbing the dawn.
Zortan didn’t bother replying. The man was insane, and there could be no negotiating. This battle would see one of them dead.
/>
“It was your duty to obey your queen,” Dunkat continued. “A duty that saw to the death of your queen and her kingdom.” As Dunkat mentioned duty, Dunkat seemed to falter, and Zortan sped forward. The man wasn’t fast enough to get out of his blade’s way, and the sword neatly severed Dunkat’s left arm at the shoulder.
Dunkat looked down at the fallen limb. From his shoulder, only a black substance dripped where he should have gushed red. “I understand duty,” Dunkat said, looking back at Zortan. Beside him, the black waves of creatures stopped.
Zortan’s arms throbbed. His sword was weakened from having absorbed so much tainted ether, and he was unable to recharge it without the sun that would see him dead.
Dunkat smiled again. Zortan held up his sword, and for the first time in his long years of faithful service knew it to be insufficient.
The black lightning came slowly, teasing him before engulfing him. Zortan felt his hold on his sword slacken. He was not surprised to meet death while protecting his queens and nieces.
He felt his flesh burn with the dark magic, and then he felt the fire soothed by the touch of his wife’s loving embrace.
i
Yoma entered the great temple, grunting under Layela’s weight. She scanned the area quickly. The temple itself was one giant room, with water trickling through the wall and surrounding a central altar. It had no roof — probably to let the sunlight in, she guessed.
Yoma walked toward the altar. She had seen it often enough in her vision to know that she needed to shed some blood there. She dragged her sister across the small stone bridge, the waters grey and still despite the constant feed. Long-dead trees surrounded the altar; some were incinerated, others were just petrified from lack of sun.
Yoma sat Layela near one of the trees and propped her up to check her wound. Blood was still trickling from it, and she could only guess at how bad the internal bleeding was.
“Hang on, Layela,” Yoma whispered close to her sister’s ear, hesitating a moment before standing. The ether battle still raged outside, but it was the trail of blood leading to Layela that made Yoma’s heart lurch. “I won’t let you die,” she said strongly, walking towards the altar. If she shed some blood, she would gain the full powers of Mirial. Then she should be able to heal even her sister’s horrible wounds. If the powers of the First Star couldn’t save Layela, then no one could, and Yoma refused to accept that.
Destiny's Blood Page 33