The ten-foot-tall creature seemed to have all the advantage. It took both of Ayrion’s weapons and all his concentration to keep Argon’s steel from chopping him in half. Dancing to the left, he barely escaped as the steel struck the rock where he’d been standing, throwing debris into the air. Ayrion ducked and spun right, clipping Argon in the leg but not enough to bring him down.
Diving to the right, Ayrion rolled onto the bridge. His people were already on the other side. He deflected another swing, and Argon’s steel sliced straight through the railing on the left side, splintering it into pieces and leaving half of it hanging in the water.
Back and forth they fought, blade against blade, the rest of the creatures pulling back to give their master plenty of room.
In one of the few moments Ayrion got the chance to look behind him, he could see Bek and Abiah standing at the far edge of the wooden slats, ready to run to his aid if he called them.
The bridge, like a small stage to a badly performed drama, shook under the force of Argon’s weight, both sides watching from their respective banks as their champion fought for the victory.
Ducking low, Ayrion felt the rush of air from Argon’s blade fly overhead. He spun and managed to land a sharp cut to Argon’s arm as he righted himself for the creature’s backswing. Ayrion’s arms felt as heavy as tree trunks; each breath was a battle in itself. Even with the aid of his magic, Argon’s size and strength were forcing Ayrion back, one step at a time. Before he knew it, his feet were no longer scraping against wooden planks but bare stone.
Bek and Abiah stood at the forefront of their fighters behind him, watching as the vulraaks slowly descended on the bridge. The white creatures were now crossing over behind Argon, hoping to get a foothold on the other side.
“Get to the tunnels!” he shouted.
Ayrion fought to keep the ancient general from advancing, but Argon was too powerful. Deflecting another overhead blow, Ayrion rolled to the side and swung for Argon’s legs once again. Having already taken more than one cut from Ayrion’s steel, Argon wasn’t willing to be caught unprepared again. He sidestepped and blocked, then kicked Ayrion, sending him backward a good five feet, where he landed and rolled, the wind knocked out of him.
He was back on his feet, swords up, still struggling to catch his breath, when white bodies poured from the bridge.
“Get down!”
Ayrion recognized the voice and immediately dropped to the cavern floor as a thunderous blast of energy drove over him and straight into the right side of the creatures’ ranks.
The shock wave shook the cavern and sent vulraaks flying through the air in all directions. Argon, seeing what was coming, had dropped to the ground as well, only receiving a partial blast that sent him rolling a few feet toward the river. He stopped himself at the edge before going in.
Ayrion was back on his feet and running for the exit. “Into the tunnel! We need to protect the reflectors!”
They had lost at least a quarter of their fighters in the initial barrage, leaving those who were left nearly too petrified to continue. The vulraaks, however, had lost at least a third of theirs, many of which ended up floating off in the river’s current.
“A lot of flaming good those stupid things have done us!” Abiah barked as he helped Bek carry Zynora back inside the tunnel’s entrance, trying not to trip over the upright mirrors behind him.
No one argued the point, least of all Ayrion. His reflectors had led them into this death trap and had done precious little to aid them in their fight.
“Something must have happened back up the line,” Bek said. “Maybe the creatures managed to kill some of our holders. It only takes one to put an end to the entire thing.”
Ayrion pointed at a small group of fighters cowering near the right wall. “Go see if you can find out what’s happening with our light.”
They took off running, eager to be away from the vulraak-infested cavern in front of them.
“We left as many people as we thought we could spare to protect them,” Abiah said. “What else could we do?”
Bek spun his hatchets. “It was a good idea. We just lack the luck needed to pull it off.”
Abiah grunted. “No doubt we used it all trying to survive last night.”
Inside the cavern, the remaining vulraaks spread out in front of Argon. Their numbers were staggering. They extended halfway across the entire front of the underground river, and more were still crossing from the other side.
Ayrion sighed. This was going to be a short fight.
“I wonder why the big one is staying back this time,” Abiah said, nodding toward Argon.
“Because these tunnels are too small for something as big as him to maneuver in,” Ayrion said. “We would have too much of an advantage.”
Bek smacked his lips. “I could really use another one of those shots of black briar right about now.”
Abiah smiled. “Aye. Can’t think of a better way to go.”
Argon roared from the back of his army, signaling them to charge.
“Well, gentlemen, it’s been an honor,” Ayrion said as he tightened his grip on his blood-soaked blades.
“I’ll be seeing my son soon enough,” Abiah said.
Ayrion closed his eyes as the vulraaks neared, releasing what magic he had left. He could feel the weight of their charge through his boots. He opened his eyes and raised his blades.
Abiah was the first to bellow out a high-pitched battle cry as the creatures tore into the tunnel and hit their line.
Bek roared like a bear on Ayrion’s left.
Ayrion didn’t bother. He let his blades speak for him as they tore into the vulraaks with a fury that set his blood on fire. He cut and slashed, lunged and thrust. With every swing of his blades, another vulraak lost its life.
On his right, Abiah kept his sword moving, rage driving him for vengeance. He hit the side wall but pushed his way back while stabbing at the guts of every white belly he saw, spitting insults the entire way.
The tunnel might have kept them from being surrounded but not from being overrun, as they were outnumbered at least three to one.
Ayrion didn’t know what to do except keep his blades moving. He felt a sharp pain in his arm and kicked the creature that had clawed him in the knee, then took off the top of its head. Bone, blood, and viscera splattered the creatures behind. With his left sword, he severed an arm, and letting the momentum continue, he chopped off the same creature’s leg halfway down its thigh.
From the corner of his eye, Ayrion could see Bek’s hatchets swinging but not the man himself. He was completely surrounded.
Ayrion could taste the creatures’ blood in his mouth. It covered his face. He shook his head to fling the drops from his eyes. He cried out as another creature broke through and raked the side of his leg with its claws.
He kicked it in the face and drove his sword down through its skull and out of its mouth before the vulraak could get its teeth in him.
Ayrion was in the middle of offering one final prayer for salvation when he heard what sounded like another horde of creatures coming from the tunnels directly behind.
His heart sank. He didn’t finish his prayer. His pleas were evidently falling on deaf ears. With what little strength he had left, he poured all his hatred into his black steel and waited for the end.
Suddenly, the tunnel filled with light as a small wave of fighters behind them, led by a crazy white-haired tinker with bronze cuffs on his forearms and a long dagger in each hand, tore around the bend.
“We fixed the lights!” Tameel shouted, half limping, half hopping his way to the front.
The vulraaks quickly retreated back toward the cavern, shrieking.
“Get those mirrors up!” Ayrion shouted, grabbing one of them himself and running after the fleeing creatures. He hit the entrance and spun, angling the mirror and watching with glee as the sunlight tore across the front of the river and into the vulraaks’ ranks.
They screamed in terror
. Everywhere the blinding light hit, the creatures were stopped in their tracks, white bodies writhing across the stone as the sun’s rays ripped the darkness from them. Like a surgeon, the light cut its way through their flesh and released the plague underneath. Dark clouds of mist enveloped the cavern as the pandemic gathered in the air.
Abiah grabbed another mirror and doubled the assault. “Take that, you flaming white faeries! I’ll roast every last one of you!” He bellowed out a hard laugh as he chased vulraaks all across the chamber with the light.
Ayrion spun the mirror around and hit Argon with a direct beam, but nothing happened. The enormous creature laughed as he tore across the bridge. Those vulraaks on the other side of the river joined him as they made a swift retreat back to the waterfall.
This wasn’t over.
Chapter 83 | Ferrin
THE RIVER WASN’T TOO far of a drop below them—maybe ten feet—but the bank on the other side was too steep to climb.
“What are we going to do?” Rae had to shout to be heard over the force of the river’s current. She clutched Suri’s hand to keep the little girl from getting too close to the edge.
“Even if we were to climb down there,” Myron said, “we’d never be able to swim to the other side. The water’s too strong.”
“Where’s that map?” Ferrin headed for the horses. “Are there any other routes out of here? Maybe we can double back and take one of them.”
Myron pulled the map from one of the saddlebags and held it out for the two to study.
“There,” Ferrin said, pointing to a small trail that forked off the main pass not far from where they were. “I remember seeing it on the way in. Hardly large enough for a single rider, but we don’t have much of an option.”
The captain nodded, rolling the vellum and stowing it in the bag before mounting.
“Hurry,” Ferrin said, helping Rae and Suri onto their horse, then climbing onto his own. He snapped the reins, and the four rode hard back the way they’d come. He realized he was holding his breath at every new turn, expecting to see white riders heading their way.
Up ahead, Ferrin recognized some of the outcroppings from the long straightaway where they had attempted to shoot the corax. “Come on, you poor old animal, don’t fail me now.” The narrow trail they were racing to lay at the back end of the corridor, just before the next curve. He spurred his horse even faster. By the sound of its heavy breathing, Ferrin was afraid the old animal was going to collapse underneath him.
They raced down the straightaway. Ferrin could see the small turn ahead. “There!” he shouted, pointing off to the right. He’d barely gotten the words out when riders rounded the corner ahead. Riders with white uniforms.
“No!” Ferrin yanked back on the reins, but it took his horse a few strides to stop. There was no way they could reach the turnoff before the Tower’s guards had them, and even if they did, it wouldn’t matter. The whole point was to get away without the Watch knowing where they’d gone. If only he’d managed to kill that second corax.
“Back!” Ferrin yelled, spinning his poor horse around and kicking it into a full gallop. “Back to the river!”
The Tower guards picked up speed when they saw them, the sound of their horses’ hooves sending chills up Ferrin’s spine as he urged his tired horse to go faster. They reached the end of the straightaway and cut to the left, then back to the right, then right again as they followed the snaking passage back to the river.
“What do you have against me?” Ferrin shouted up at whoever might be listening. Azriel’s voice came back to him. We all have a purpose. You must find yours.
Ferrin growled. Even out here, he couldn’t seem to escape his cellmate’s preaching.
He glanced over his shoulder at the next straightaway. The Tower’s guards were catching up.
Rounding the last corner, Ferrin leaped off his horse and raced to the edge of the small rise where the bridge had once been. Never had freedom been so close and yet so far away.
“Well, do something!” Rae shouted.
“Like what? We have nowhere to go.” He glanced up the stone face, but the rock was sheer and smooth, no foot- or handholds of any kind. Not that they could have scaled the mountain with Suri in tow anyway. “Get the weapons.”
They quickly unpacked their bags and grabbed anything they could fight with. Side by side, they stood waiting, swords at their waists and crossbows in hand. Myron took a few moments to show Rae how to use the weapon. He’d already loaded the bolt, so all that remained was to aim and snap the trigger. Ferrin doubted she’d hit anything, but it couldn’t hurt to have one more shot in the mix.
Suri remained behind Rae, holding tight to the folds of her mother’s new dress.
Ferrin could feel the horses before he heard them, the ground shaking as the Black Watch rounded the bend. Ferrin lifted his bow.
“Don’t waste your shot,” Myron said. “We’ll only get the one. Make it count.”
Cheeks was one of the last around the corner.
“I’ve got the—”
Rae’s bolt flew from its bow before Ferrin could finish. The arrow flew directly at Cheeks, then veered up and over his head as the redheaded bulradoer waved her arm to the side.
Rae threw the bow on the ground, screaming at having missed.
The riders reined in when they saw the crossbows. They clearly hadn’t expected to see the four of them standing in the middle of the pass, waiting for them.
Myron fired next, aiming for the bulradoer.
While she was busy keeping herself from getting hit, Ferrin quickly shifted his aim and fired. A man in the front slumped over and fell from his mount. Ferrin let his bow drop and drew one of his newly forged blades.
“This is flaming worthless!” Myron said as he tossed his bow to the side and drew Ferrin’s other sword from his belt, balancing it in his hands. “Oh, I like this.”
Rae grabbed the short sword Myron had given her and stood ready. “Stay behind me,” she said to Suri, who looked on the verge of crying.
Cheeks smiled from atop his horse. And why wouldn’t he? He had them exactly where he wanted them. The man was as lucky as a three-handed Delgan in a wrestling match. He couldn’t even die without cheating death.
“My dear smith, we need to quit meeting like this. All this hostility’s not good for the digestion.”
“Well, if anyone would know something about digestion, it would be you,” Ferrin spat.
The inquisitor laughed. “Yes,” he said, patting his now-thin frame. “I guess you’re right. Looks like I have a new body to reshape.” He looked at Rae. “And how do you like my new body, my dear?”
She raised her sword in answer.
“I see you’ve taken care of my little Suri.” He waved at his daughter. “Do you want to come give your papa a big kiss?”
The little girl ducked behind Rae, shaking her head no.
Cheeks looked at Myron. “I see the traitorous captain is still hanging around. I figured you would’ve made a break for it the first chance you got. Glad to be proven wrong. I will enjoy my time with you on the rack. I promise to make it slow and painful.”
When Myron didn’t give him the satisfaction of a response, Cheeks turned to Ferrin. “I must admit I wouldn’t mind getting my hands on one of those swords myself.”
“Come a little closer and I’ll oblige that request.”
Cheeks grinned and wagged his finger. “Ah, ah, ahh. I want you alive.” He turned to the bulradoer, then pointed at Rae and Suri. “Bring them to me.”
The cloaked wielder raised her hands and mumbled something under her breath.
Ferrin tensed. He didn’t like where this was going. He turned to pull Rae and Suri behind him, but his hand hit an invisible wall. He pushed on it, but it wouldn’t move. He punched it, and nearly broke his fingers. Finally, he tried using his sword, and the blade struck the edge and bounced off.
Rae beat her fist against the back of the barrier, trying to break free as
it slowly pulled her and Suri in the guards’ direction. Myron swung at the wall as well, his sword faring no better than Ferrin’s.
Rae turned and looked at him, tears in her eyes. She knew what she was about to lose. She knew what being captured meant for her and Suri.
Ferrin’s heart sank, his mind racing as he racked his brain for something he could do. But there was nothing. What good was being a metallurgist if he couldn’t use it?
He turned to take one last swing at the wall when Suri stepped out from behind her mother’s dress and pointed at the guards’ horses. “Go away!”
All of the horses’ heads snapped to attention. All but Cheeks’s.
The horses bolted back down the trail, tossing half of their riders to the ground. Those who managed to stay seated were carried off with them, including the bulradoer, who was clinging to her horse’s neck to keep from being thrown.
Cheeks sat calmly, his horse the only one impervious to Suri’s command. He stared at the little girl with a greedy smile on his face that had Ferrin cringing.
Ferrin reached out and found the bulradoer’s shield was gone. “Run!” he cried, slamming his sword into its sheath and scooping Suri up in the process.
Rae quickly caught up.
Myron grabbed three of their gear bags and dashed for the ledge. He dove off just in front of them.
“No!” Cheeks shouted behind him. “Get them, you fools!”
“Hold your nose,” Ferrin told Suri. He snatched the last bag and leaped over the edge.
The water stung like a thousand needles as they went in. He fought his way back to the top, breaking free of the surface just in time to see Rae hitting the water behind him. He held Suri’s head above the waves as she screamed for her mother.
Downriver, Myron’s head bobbed up and down as he fought against the current.
Turning, Ferrin caught a quick glimpse of Cheeks standing at the edge of the embankment. Even over the rush of the water, Ferrin could still hear the inquisitor shouting at the top of his lungs.
Plague of Shadows Page 62
