Bladedancer (The Sword Saint Series Book 4)

by Michael Wallace

  “Any of us can do that part.”

  “Now who is exaggerating?” Katalinka said.

  Kozmer continued. “The sword saint can kill demons. She can step through fire and survive being frozen in ice.”

  Narina seized on this. “There you go. I’ve never stepped through fire or been frozen in ice. And the legends also say the sword saint will fly down on her enemies from above. Unless the legends mean jumping out of a tree, I most certainly cannot do that.”

  “Can’t you?” Drazul asked quietly. Narina glanced at the firewalker sohn. “Damanja could—she dropped into our midst.”

  “And you killed her,” Miklos said, “taking her powers. All of us who’ve been touched by the curse know that much. You kill, you take, you grow.”

  “You think I can create demonic crows? Change myself into a bird? Black lightning and all of that?” Narina glanced at her sister. “Katalinka, tell them. You fought it too. The curse doesn’t work like that. If it did, why can’t I just tell the demons to go home and have them obey me?”

  Nobody seemed to have an answer to this, and she felt as though she’d won the argument. And yet, wasn’t there a niggling doubt they were right? She did feel different since Damanja died, as if she’d drawn some of the woman’s essence. And Damanja seemed to think she had the ability to capture sohn powers; she’d killed Lujza and boasted that she’d gain even more from Narina’s death.

  “Will you try?” Kozmer asked.

  “What, to command them? Or the flight and demonic crows and black lightning thing?”

  “All of it,” he said. “Or some of it. Whatever you need at the moment to defeat these creatures. Will you test your powers and see if it’s possible?”

  Katalinka put a hand on Narina’s arm. “We’ll escort you to the lake. Cross with you if we can or meet you downstream if we can’t. As you travel and fight, you’ll discover the extent of your powers.”

  “If I have them.”

  “Yes, if you have them,” her sister said. “Whatever happens, whether you can do those things or not, you’re still the best hope to kill the demons and end this war. They’ve apparently defeated the dragons and driven them back to their lakes. There’s no opposition. If we don’t stop them, they’ll finish their new volcano, and from there, launch attacks higher and higher into the mountains until they’ve destroyed everything.”

  Narina drained her tea, set down her cup, and leaned back. All of this effort to free herself of the curse, and she was acting as the dragon demigods’ champion all the same. Had the creatures dreamed this outcome in their mountain lakes, had they seen it would come to this, even caused it somehow? She clenched her hands until her nails bit into her palms.

  “I’ll go. I don’t see that I have a choice in the matter, but I’ll do it.”

  “There’s always a choice,” Kozmer said. “None of this is preordained.”

  “But I refuse to call myself the sword saint,” she added. “And I doubt that I can command crows—demonic or otherwise—or take their powers. Not so long as a single crowlord exists on the plains to contest me. But the rest of you have abilities, too. If we arm ourselves, if we move quickly, we might stop the demons while they’re still weak.”

  “That’s all we’re asking,” Katalinka said.

  Narina rose to her feet. “I’m going to help Bartal finish the hilt for my new weapon. An hour, maybe two, and I’ll have my master dragon. Do whatever meditation, washing, or firewalking ritual is appropriate so that you’ll be ready to go.”

  Chapter Nine

  If there was one theory soon put to rest, it was that Narina had control over the crows. A flock flew overhead when the group of companions hit the post road. She could feel their sowens, and when she reached out and called them to her, they veered away, cawing angrily. Moments later, they returned, and she eyed them suspiciously as they flew back and forth, communicating among themselves about the five humans on the road below. She caught whispers of their thoughts, all hostile.

  Katalinka came up beside her. “What are they doing?”

  “Preparing to attack, I think.”

  “Then you can’t reach them?”

  “I can reach them just fine,” Narina said, “in the same way you can pour water on fire. The fire doesn’t like it, though.”

  “At least it’s not demonic crows this time,” Katalinka said.

  “They’re all demonic crows. If there were ever any of the other kind, the kind that look for nests to raid and shiny objects to collect and pay no attention to human affairs, they’re nowhere to be found at the moment. Any crows you see have been enlisted into the war.”

  “It kind of makes you feel sorry for them,” her sister said. “They don’t have much of a choice, do they? Like horses ridden into battle. They don’t want to die, but what can they do if others are driving them?”

  “Are any of us willing participants in this war?” Narina asked. She meant it to cut off the conversation so she could think things over, perhaps test other abilities as they traveled back down the canyon, but Katalinka apparently wasn’t finished.

  “What about the ratters?” she asked.

  “How do you mean? We won’t need them to find our way back along these so-called canals. They’re as safe as they can be, so long as they stay at the temple with the rest.”

  “The war can reach the temple as easily as any other corner of the world,” Katalinka countered.

  “Drazul is there. He’ll organize the defenses, maintain a perimeter. There’s no guarantee they won’t be attacked while we’re gone, but it’s got to be safer than where we’re going.”

  Katalinka shook her head. “That’s not what I mean. Doesn’t it seem odd that the ratters are still swept up in all of this? At every turn it seems they have a part to play.”

  “They’re human beings,” Narina said with a shrug, not sure what her sister was getting at. “Not insects, no matter how much Damanja and her kind think so. Like I said, we’re all driven by forces beyond our control, and I wouldn’t think myself above Andras and Ruven. More valuable, I mean. Their lives are worth as much to them as mine is to me.”

  “That’s not what I mean, either,” Katalinka said. “Just that it’s strange they’re still involved, is all. It feels like there’s a point to it.”

  Now Narina was more curious, and she turned to her sister with raised eyebrows.

  Katalinka shook her head. “Or maybe not. Maybe it’s just a reminder, nothing more.”

  “A reminder of what?”

  “That the auras of the world connect us all.”

  Narina couldn’t help but think that the demons and demigods of the world thought of all humans—temple warriors included—as of no importance whatsoever. Tools to be used at best, nuisances to be eradicated at worst. Insects, all.

  #

  The crows attacked about an hour after they’d left the temple, just as dusk fell. The companions had been discussing whether to make an encampment on the hillside above the lake, or to push into the night until they reached the volcano, when a sudden shift in the auras overhead alerted Narina of the danger. The flock had been growing in number and noise, but the birds had seemed content to watch, listen, and follow.

  Until suddenly they were not.

  She pushed outward with her sowen as crows hurtled from the sky. This blunted their diving speed, but didn’t stop them. The four sohns had their swords out, ready to hack them to pieces. At the last moment, the crows wheeled away from the sohns and came at Kozmer instead.

  The elder had been concentrating his sowen, probably to send a wave blasting through the flock as it struck, but the attack was so sudden and vicious that he barely had time to flinch before they were on him. He dropped his staff and waved his arms as he went down beneath flapping wings and pecking beaks. One crow shoved its beak against his mouth and spewed smoke.

  Katalinka reached the old man’s side first, followed by Narina. They were both armed with twin dragon blades, and they made
short work of the crows, slashing and cutting until the remnants flew away, squawking in terror. Narina’s newly forged dragon—held in her left hand where she’d have otherwise wielded a demon—felt strange as it twisted and stabbed. But it killed crows just as easily as the other, and she could tell from the way it moved that it was—or would soon be—as powerful a weapon as she’d ever wielded.

  The dead and dying crows dissolved to ash, revealing Kozmer lying on his back, arms up to protect his face. His sleeves had been slashed to ribbons, and there were bloody cuts along his forearms, as well as parts of his face and neck. His sowen, so strong moments earlier, was equally battered. What was left he used to stop the bleeding of a particularly savage gash across his temple.

  He coughed, and smoke trailed out of his mouth. “Demons take me, that burns.”

  “What did it do?” Narina asked.

  “Scalding smoke—I couldn’t help it, I breathed some of it.” He coughed again.

  Narina and Katalinka helped him to his feet, while Miklos picked up his staff and handed it back. Kozmer leaned against it, wheezing and hacking. Sarika cursed in a low voice and scanned the darkening skies, sword still in hand.

  “I suppose it was my turn,” Kozmer said. “No reason why I should emerge from these things unscathed.” He glanced at Sarika, who trotted to the edge of the road and half-vanished into the gloom. “At least I wasn’t swallowed by a demon like that old fellow from the firewalkers.”

  Narina was relieved to see he’d kept his sense of humor, which told her he’d be fine. “Come on,” she urged, taking his arm. “Let’s get you off the road so you can rest. A few minutes and you should be good to go.”

  “It will take a lot more than a few minutes,” he said. “I’ll need some time before I’m feeling better, preferably with some rest. Actual sleep would be nice, if only that were possible.” He said it with a smile that turned into a grimace as he broke into another coughing spell.

  Narina exchanged frowns with her sister while he hacked it out. “I don’t think we should stop.”

  Kozmer wiped at his mouth. “No, we can’t. I’ll keep going, but I can’t do it alone. I need help.”

  By help, he meant use of the others’ sowen to keep him going, Narina knew. It was already hard enough shoring him up, and she’d been counting on Kozmer’s own strength to help her over the river and to strengthen her as she fought the demons at the lava canals on the other side. She had to get past the initial defenses before she could move against the volcano itself.

  “That’s what they wanted,” Miklos announced as they set off again. “It’s precisely the reason they attacked the old man in the first place. They knew our sword saint would bring help, and wanted to undermine it.”

  Narina winced. “Please don’t call me that.”

  “They knew a few crows wouldn’t harm her,” Miklos continued, “but if they could take down the elder, they’d weaken her powers. Somehow they knew it ahead of time.”

  “Who knew?” Katalinka asked. “To be clear, who exactly is it you’re talking about?”

  He sheathed his sword. “The demons, I suppose.”

  Sarika snorted from the darkness ahead. “And what, did they raise hands and hold a vote? Or are you saying they have a leader?”

  “Who knows?” Miklos responded, sounding irritated.

  Kozmer spoke up, his voice still raspy from the smoke he’d inhaled. “It would make a certain sort of sense. It’s how the world is run. The Great Drake is the master of the dragons. The sohns lead the temples. Crowlords rule the plains.” He coughed. “Ugh, that’s nasty.” He cleared something from his throat and spat. “There, that’s better. Apologies, friends.”

  “Go on,” Narina said.

  “We’ve already seen demons devouring demons. Overseers ruling a slave class. Why might there not be an overlord of the abyss?”

  “A demon king?” she asked.

  “Why not?” the elder said.

  Narina didn’t like the sound of that, and hoped he was wrong. It was easier to think of fighting a mob of lesser demons than a lord of the abyss. “We’ll worry about that later. For now, stay alert. Don’t let any more crows gather overhead.”

  It was fully dark now, and for the first time in days Narina could see the stars, and even a sliver of moon hanging above the lower reaches of the mountains to the east. Wind from above had cleaned out the heavy pall and broken through the cloud cover. Gone was the smell of woodsmoke and sulfur. There was even a bit of chill in the breeze blowing down the canyon.

  Narina felt a crow flying overhead about twenty minutes later, but it was too high to bother with, and she hoped it wouldn’t be able to detect them in the dark, so she warned the others, and they continued in silence. It vanished, but returned minutes later with two others. Soon, they were gathering overhead in another flock. They were still too high to attack with sowen, but their presence was enough to force the party to keep their strength in a tight defensive posture. The crows soon flew off, but Narina remained suspicious and wary.

  Sure enough, as they rounded a corner a few minutes later, with the river roaring by on their right and a steep canyon wall on the left, the crows came hurtling over the edge of the cliff in a dive. The companions were ready for the attack and fought it off with a combination of sowen blasts and sword thrusts, but a second group of crows came racing across the river and attacked the party from behind. The companions had been focused on the first flock, which gave the second an opening.

  Once again, they attacked Kozmer, rather than the stronger warriors, as if seeking to pick him off from the party. Narina had been staying near his side, and was hardly caught unaware, yet there were already three of them screeching and tearing at the old man’s neck and face by the time she got into the fight. She concentrated her will and scattered them with a blast of sowen, then hacked them down before they could escape. Others took advantage of the distraction to get at the elder, but Narina’s sister joined her while the other two warriors continued fighting against the first and largest of the two flocks.

  Within seconds, the surviving crows had disappeared into the night. Kozmer was shaken, but relatively unharmed. A better result than before. Still, Narina didn’t like the condition of his sowen.

  “We should send him back,” Miklos said. “It’s too dangerous for the old man. Any more attacks and he’ll be no good to us anyway.”

  “Send him home alone?” Narina said. “And if they attack him anyway?”

  The big warbrand twisted his hands around the hilt of his falchion. “I hate to say it, but it would keep the pressure off us, wouldn’t it?”

  Sarika snorted. “So we’d sacrifice his life for a bit of advantage?”

  “Of course not,” Miklos said. “He can hole up until morning—I don’t know, in a tree hollow or something—and wait it out. They’re still only crows, after all. In the morning, he’ll be stronger and can either wait for us to return or go home if he thinks it’s safe.”

  “If it’s all the same, I’ll take my chances with the lot of you,” Kozmer said.

  “It’s not a question of taking your chances,” Miklos said. “It’s a question of you slowing us down. You came along to aid us. But if you can’t, if you need to be protected instead. . .”

  “I’m all right,” Kozmer said. “I’ll keep going, and grow stronger with time. Just keep them off me.”

  Narina put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re sure, old friend?”

  “If I collapse, just leave me be.” There was a wry edge to his voice. “I’ll play dead. Nobody will know the difference.”

  She couldn’t help but chuckle, and they kept going, with no more talk of leaving the elder behind. The crows attacked one final time about twenty minutes later, but it was a single, direct charge, and the enemy’s strength seemed mostly spent. Only one crow got through their defenses and made an attempt to spew smoke into the elder’s lungs, but it quickly died for its efforts. After that, the journey was quiet.

&
nbsp; Even so, Kozmer was stumbling with exhaustion by the time they reached the hillside that had been the site of two earlier battles against demons. Narina left him with the others, with instructions to rebuild his sowen as best they could, while she scaled the hill to take a closer look. As she’d been warned, the river was dammed, and it had turned into a deep, narrow lake that steamed with heat.

  The glow of lava lit up the hillside opposite, ending hopes that the demonic works had gone cold. The creatures themselves were easily visible as well, glowing through the smoky gloom settling above the canals and drifting down to the lakeshore. She could see at least three teams carrying buckets of lava up the hill, where they disappeared into the darkness, presumably on their way to the caldera Katalinka had warned her about. From there, they were digging through stone in order to reach the fiery depths below and spew out a new volcano.

  Why didn’t they dig their way up from below? Was there magic of some sort preventing it, laid down by the dragons to prevent just such a thing? Perhaps, but that was beside the point.

  Narina thought if she charged these small groups of demons, she could destroy them before they realized they were under attack. The question was how to cross the lake. She wasn’t going to swim through the scalding water unscathed, and the demons had not built a causeway or any other visible way across that she could see. Nothing that would benefit her, at least.

  Experimentally, she lifted her arms and imagined that they were wings. She thought of soaring over the canyon, pictured herself looking down at the world from above, and how everything might look from a great height.

  Something stirred. Her hair waved and rippled, and her skin tingled along her arms. She flexed her toes, which felt like claws that could grip. Her hands, too, felt strange. She looked down half-expecting her arms to be turning into wings. Nothing. And the sensation vanished in an instant.

  No matter. There was a dam downstream blocking the river, and there might be some way across. If not, she could go even further, find a river crossing, and then come back upstream from there.