Plague Arcanist (Frith Chronicles Book 4)

by Shami Stovall

  Wraith and Fain ran forward. They both used their flesh manipulation to gouge out chunks of muscle from the dog’s shoulder. Ice coated the monster afterward, and the beast bit at them with furious energy, missing with its many mouths as though it couldn’t see them well enough.

  More flames rushed into the area, covering the cerberus and both Fain and Wraith. I hadn’t noticed the cerberus arcanist approach, but there he was—holding up his hand and evoking the fire with a smile on his twisted face.

  Both Wraith and Fain had taken the brunt of their attack, their burnt flesh blackened and twisted. I manipulated the shadows to grab them and yank them away from our enemies.

  More wind. It combined with the fire, spreading it everywhere.

  I moved Fain and Wraith farther away, my shadows resistant to the fire thanks to my father’s blue phoenix feather trinket.

  “Go,” I commanded, my double-voice authoritative. “Tell the others it’s time to leave.”

  I evoked my terrors, hoping to slow our enemies, but a barrier shimmered around them, protecting them from even my mental assaults. I recognized the shielding magic—it had come from the atlas tortoise.

  The ground rumbled and quaked, and a moment later, the monster emerged from the dirt in a burst of impressive strength and movement. It clawed out of the ground and dragged its massive body over the rocks and mud, the plants on its shell acting as little arms that helped pull it up.

  Half in the ground, and half above, the atlas tortoise laughed as it emerged, its shrill joy a torture to listen to.

  “Look what we have here,” it said, its voice much deeper than its laugh, each word rumbling over me. “He’s one of us. But he’s… turned on his own kind. You know what that means…” Its odd voice and cadence betrayed its plague-ridden state, even if the visual cues weren’t there.

  Another plague-ridden unicorn and its arcanist rode onto the scene, this one with an equally bloated belly that squirmed with inner worms.

  “There’re too many of them,” Fain said. “You can’t—”

  I stood between him and the enemy arcanists. “This is all the guards. Now’s your chance.”

  I hoped he understood—this was the best opportunity for them to escape. All the plague arcanists had their attention on me. And now that the Mother of Shapeshifters had been freed, my only goals were to kill as many of them as possible and wreck this dig site.

  “Help Moonbeam,” I said, the last of my mirth in those words. Karna could take care of herself, but I worried about Adelgis.

  That seemed to resonate with Fain. He nodded before draping himself in invisibility. Wraith disappeared as well, leaving me alone with the four monster arcanists and their twisted eldrin.

  “We’ll track them down once we’re done with you,” the cerberus arcanist called out. He rubbed at the red glowing mark on his forehead, a devious smirk on his face. “My eldrin can hunt anything. You’re as good as dead. Isn’t that right, Tamoi?”

  A lanky man climbed up onto the plague-ridden atlas tortoise, his armor accented with bits of jagged tortoise shell. “Don’t tell him it’s hopeless. I’d rather he figure that out for himself—slowly and painfully.”

  His giant eldrin chortled, its mirth rumbling the ground.

  “Brimstone,” the cerberus arcanist said to his eldrin. “Run down the others. We’ll kill the knightmare arcanist in the meantime.”

  The three-headed dog barked and then attempted to run around me. I manipulated the shadows, intending to grab the monster’s legs and stop him, but another flash of barriers sprang up, protecting the cerberus from my magic.

  No!

  I moved to step into the shadows—to get in front of the cerberus and physically block it—but the ground beneath my feet grabbed me. The atlas tortoise manipulated the dirt and rock, sinking me to my ankles, preventing me from escaping into the shadows.

  Then the unicorn burst open its gut, spilling blood-coated worms across the area like a freakish birth of nightmares. The worms shot for me, and I struggled to move. They leapt onto my shadow-plate armor, attempting to burrow in. Some of them squirmed through the plates, getting to my flesh underneath.

  The cerberus arcanist evoked flames, avoiding the ground with the worms. I lifted my cape, trying to block the attack, but I knew this wouldn’t last. The heat washed over me for a brief moment. It felt like an eternity that my shadows and flesh burned, my thoughts focusing on every millisecond.

  The pegasus flew around behind me, and a woman jumped off its back. The unicorn arcanist moved to block my escape on the side.

  Tamoi, the atlas tortoise arcanist, laughed and snapped his fingers. “Gut him slow. We gotta pay him back for all the trouble he’s caused.”

  “Let me… eat him,” the tortoise said, its tongue crusty and long as it lulled out of its mouth. “One limb… at a time.”

  The pegasus arcanist fired her gun. The bullet slammed into my shadow armor, right in the middle of my back. The sting of the bullet affected me, even if it didn’t pierce my skin.

  Rage flooded my system. No matter how much it hurt or how much it would cost, I controlled all the shadows in the area, creating claws and hooks and knives—I ripped up the ground, freeing my ankles, and lashed out at everyone in the nearby vicinity. The barriers of the atlas tortoise protected them, but I freed myself in the meantime and slipped into the shadows, ridding myself of the blood worms and exiting out between warehouses.

  “Find him,” Tamoi shouted.

  The plague-ridden monsters searched as I gulped down air, my body sore, my arm singed, and my spine pulsing. Their search was short-lived, however.

  “We don’t need to comb through the darkness,” the cerberus arcanist said. “Just drag those other arcanists back here and get them screaming. The knightmare arcanist will crawl out of whatever hole he’s in—trust me.”

  I scrunched my eyes shut. I had to do something or else the entire group of those cutthroats would hunt down the others. But what? I found myself struggling to even think straight.

  Luthair spoke in my mind, his voice comforting. My arcanist, we must act. Escape or fight—any decision is better than indecision.

  I shook my head. A part of me already knew what needed to be done. Although I couldn’t control it—although I manifested it incorrectly—I needed the added power from my eclipse aura.

  It’ll take too much from you, Luthair said. If you fight these arcanists, you’ll certainly die.

  I wasn’t afraid of dying. I was afraid of monsters like these running free.

  Without regret, I forced the magic to spill outward. It was night, and the moon was already covered by clouds, but the moment my false eclipse blanketed the area, even the lamps couldn’t remain lit. The shadows moved of their own accord, snuffing out lights, darkening every corner, helping to ease my pain.

  I turned my attention to the bonfires.

  49

  Following Stars

  Empowered by my eclipse aura, I slipped through the shadows and arrived at the edge of the dig site. The workers there were confused—stunned and frightened by my blanketing darkness. They murmured questions and pointed, all unable to see.

  “Leave this area,” I commanded, my double-voice booming over the excavation pit. “This will be your only warning.”

  Groping through the darkness, the workers fled from their equipment, dropping everything in their haste to escape.

  The bonfires raged against the shadows, refusing to be snuffed. I suspected it was because they were fueled by magic, and that was perfect for my plans. With more power than I had ever put into the shadows, I willed them to grab at the side of the bonfire’s pit, a wall made of latticed clay. My blue phoenix feather trinket helped keep my shadows solid, even when dealing with the flames. I ripped apart the massive sides, allowing the burning wood, bodies, and other materials to go spilling out.

  Then I grabbed a nearby pulley system and flew it into the pit, smashing some of the bones in the process. Embers from the
escaping bonfire fell onto the wooden pulley, and within a matter of moments, the blaze grew in size.

  “There he is!” someone shouted.

  I grabbed the clay siding of the second bonfire and broke it open as well, spilling the contents enough that embers floated to the trees on the edge of the clearing.

  When I went to attack the third and final bonfire, a barrier formed around the outside, preventing me from destroying it.

  The ground trembled with the movement of the atlas tortoise as it walked over to the dig site. The unicorn, pegasus, and cerberus arcanist joined Tamoi, all with their eldrins, except for the three-headed dog. The cerberus arcanist used his flame to illuminate the nearby area, but it wasn’t nearly enough to fully see.

  I tried using my terrors, enhanced by the false eclipse.

  The barriers prevented them from taking hold.

  When I manipulated the shadows, I tore apart half the dig site, ripping up dirt, equipment, and smashing crates—but nothing landed on the enemy arcanists due to the shields. Before I could shadow-step away, the atlas tortoise caught me again with the ground, this time sinking me down to my knees and causing the rocks to crush one of my ankles.

  “Kill him,” Tamoi shouted.

  The cerberus arcanist flooded the area in flame. The pegasus whipped wind around, trapping the heat in an area and creating a mini firestorm.

  The atlas tortoise had to be eliminated first if I had any chance of winning.

  I threw Retribution and used the shadows to grab and wield it.

  With a wide strike—that lacked all finesse, but had some power—I slashed at Tamoi. His barrier shimmered, but it couldn’t block the black blade made from the apoch dragon. Retribution cut clean through his arm and chest, startling him enough that his eyes went wide. I had almost severed his arm. It remained attached only through threads of muscle and ligament.

  The atlas tortoise laughed aloud, rumbling the ground. “He’s made a weapon from our best friend. How ironic…”

  “Wretch,” Tamoi hissed.

  He threw a pouch onto the ground, and it exploded into a fine mist of black and blue. I instantly recognized the decay dust, but I couldn’t move to avoid it. The powder washed over me, and it ate away at my trinkets, destroying Equalizer and my blue phoenix feather.

  The dust couldn’t destroy Retribution, though. It was too powerful.

  I used the shadows to strike again, this time at the cerberus arcanist. A barrier shimmered, but it was useless against my sword. The man clearly hadn’t expected to be harmed—he didn’t even attempt to dodge—and the deep slice to his upper leg caused him to scream.

  He collapsed to one knee, his breathing heavy.

  The pegasus and unicorn arcanist backed away, as though trying to predict my next actions. Instead, I willed the shadows to attack the atlas tortoise with Retribution. It was such a large target, I didn’t need to focus as much to hit it, and instead, I clawed at the dirt, trying to free myself.

  The worms rushed in, each trying to burrow into my flesh. My shadows grabbed and crushed them, the blood in their tiny bodies popping outward like fat zits.

  Grunting a curse, the cerberus arcanist forced himself to stand. He unsheathed a sword and lunged for me. I tried my terrors, but the atlas tortoise still maintained its barriers. Unable to move, I attempted to trip the man with shadows, but it wasn’t enough. Fortunately, the darkness affected his aim. He slashed down, cleaving into my shoulder with enhanced strength. The blade cut through Luthair and straight to my bone.

  Which meant that Luthair was now infected with the plague. And unlike arcanists, who had months to attempt to cure themselves, mystical creatures had just a few short days before succumbing to madness.

  I focused everything I had and forced Retribution to turn around in a wide arc. The cerberus arcanist’s vision was impaired—and I sliced straight through his neck, removing his head. The red glow of his arcanist mark died as he did.

  Enraged, I tore open the ground and freed myself. One of my ankles had been mangled, and I couldn’t stand correctly, but I still managed to slip into the shadows and emerge near the unicorn. It hadn’t seen me move, which meant I had a second to catch my breath.

  I felt my magic slipping.

  My eclipse aura would end soon, and then I’d have nothing.

  I had only managed to deal with one of the enemy arcanists, but he wasn’t the most important. The Autarch’s enforcer and atlas tortoise had to die. But could I handle that? Luthair was plague-ridden, and my own rationality was fleeting. Everything hurt, and if I somehow managed to kill the rest of the arcanists, I suspected I’d still die. Could I even lift my injured shoulder? My pain continued to grow—the bullet had done something to me.

  My arcanist… We could flee.

  No.

  It was more important that I finish this. A part of me wanted Luthair to escape, if only so I could protect one more person.

  I would rather die than watch another arcanist fall.

  His determination fueled my own.

  Swallowing air, I shadow-stepped closer to the dig site and used Retribution to continue my work. Tamoi couldn’t use his barriers to stop me, and I sliced the pulleys and collapsed the supporting structures. With as much magic as I had left, I spread the bonfire, catching more trees on fire. Although it hurt—I could feel the burning through the shadows now that my phoenix feather was gone—I made sure the buildings got caught in the devastation as well.

  I wouldn’t allow the Second Ascension to have any more of their weapons.

  The atlas tortoise grabbed me with the ground, crushing my already broken ankle. Thorn-covered vines reached out of the ground this time, wrapping around my legs. I knew it hurt, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t really feel anything.

  My unstable eclipse aura faded, allowing the light from the fires to return in full force. The illumination stung.

  “You’re a fool,” Tamoi said. “I’ll just rebuild, ya know. My magic created this dig site. I can do it again.”

  His atlas tortoise took a few steps closer, enough that the ground quaked and I felt it through my trapped feet. Its vines dragged me down, the rocks slowly twisting around my thighs.

  “We’ll rebuild on top of your corpse,” the tortoise added, a snicker in its words.

  This wasn’t a matter of rebuilding—it was an issue of time.

  The Autarch had made it clear. He needed the world serpent to fulfill his promises and to gain control of far-off kingdoms. The Frith Guild was already aware of the world serpent, and they were poised to get it. As long as I slowed the Second Ascension here, I would help the Frith Guild snatch the god-creatures away from our enemies.

  That was the most important thing. I had to weaken them. I had to cull their numbers and wreck their operations. I had to protect Fain, Adelgis, and Karna.

  And when I feared I couldn’t summon the strength to do so, I thought of the stars.

  It didn’t matter how black the night became—the stars would always be there, a flicker of light in a sea of darkness. They maintained their course through the sky, stalwart and unyielding, even if they were never recognized for their efforts. Like all great heroes.

  I just needed a fraction of that dedication. Because it didn’t matter what happened to me. It didn’t matter if they fed me to their monster eldrin or used my bones to repair this site. It was too important that the Second Ascension fail to obtain the world serpent and too important that the people I cared for were safe.

  I had come here knowing I would die, and now I finally felt okay with it.

  I would be stalwart and unyielding until the bitter end.

  Without warning, my forehead burned, and my vision blurred white. For a sliver of a second, it felt as though I were connected to something infinite—something so grand and powerful, it could only be described as endless possibility. But just as fast as I had experienced it, the feeling was gone, leaving me with a fraction of that potential.

  I breathed dee
p and felt better than I had in months.

  Power, and a sense of tranquility, overcame me. What had once been overwhelming a moment ago no longer seemed impossible.

  “What the?” Tamoi barked.

  “Curse the abyssal hells,” the unicorn arcanist muttered. “It’s a true form knightmare.”

  I had never been so calm, and with my sudden flood of strength, I focused on recreating my eclipse aura. It happened almost without effort—the darkness returned, this time without flaw. Further fueled by my own aura, I manipulated the shadows to help me out of the ground. Claws and hooks ripped the rocks and vines away, freeing me from my earthly prison. I shadow-stepped out of the ditch, my ankle still broken, but the pain masked by my newfound wellspring of strength.

  Tamoi struck his atlas tortoise on the side of its massive head. “I don’t care what it takes—destroy him before he does anything!”

  The atlas tortoise gleefully laughed, the bubbles of its voice a harsh juxtaposition when compared to its dead, jiggling eyes. The monster slammed its legs on the ground, manifesting an earthquake. The ground broke and shattered, boulders forced from the dirt, jutting upward. Holes opened up and then twisted shut, creating pits that would surely crush someone if they fell.

  The thorn-covered vines lashed out, acting of their own accord and indiscriminately grabbing everything in the nearby area to drag into the crushing holes. Three latched onto the plague-ridden unicorn. Five others grabbed its vile arcanist. Both were dragged into a crag and then crunched to death a moment later, the splatter of weak flesh a harrowing sound.

  When the vines came for me, I willed Retribution back into my hand and sliced them with little effort. More vines came, but my shadows sliced those as well, even without my active participation. None of the plants could get near me.

  We can’t stay on the ground, Luthair said, his voice as calm as I felt. The atlas tortoise can sense our movements through tremors, even in the dark.