by L. R. Flint
“I do not know.” So, of course, we charged it. Some absentminded part of me heard Harkaitz calling his men to order and noticed Alaia emerging from the ship’s hold as my sister and I jumped from the railing. Soaring through the air toward the beast, we had no way of returning to the ship for we were already yards beyond it. It was not until I caught hold of the being’s thin robe that I realized I had left my weapons on the ship. I quickly pulled myself up the gauzy cloak, though it was difficult because there were no respectable handholds; it was like climbing a sheer cliff of cloth, with my weight pulling it taut and making it difficult to claim another handhold.
I finally made it to the creature’s neck, which I sliced with a dagger, though it did not seem to even sting my opponent. “This is not working,” I called out in frustration, not expecting a reply, and unsure if anyone could do anything more themselves. I summoned a sword from Lietha and thrust it into the beast. The weapon slid in with ease and the creature howled in pain, but then the blade flashed red and disappeared, scorching my hands. I could see one of the beast’s hands coming toward me to grab me from my perch and—out of options—I envisioned anything and everything that had even the remotest of ties to the banishment or destruction of the creature. Somewhere in my jumbled thoughts was an image of the creature being sliced in half as if by an enormous, flaming sword from on High.
I was not sure if the magic had worked or if it had simply backfired, because I flew backward—at least a hundred feet away from the ship. Just before I hit the water I heard an earsplitting shriek, then the waves crashed over me and I was pulled into the ocean, slipping into its crushing embrace. The explosion seemed to have drained my energy, because I could not gather any strength to try and keep myself afloat. Though I was in the process of drowning, I felt somehow at ease, as if I were being welcomed home—but into the dark depths of the water. Unclear were my thoughts of fear, which normally would lead to panic, as I sunk through the cool waters into deeper, darker, and colder ones, where strange creatures roamed at the borders of my vision. The last of my breath escaped my lungs and went bubbling to the surface of the waves. I watched their clear, shimmering, almost perfectly round shapes float away from me and I wondered what it would be like after I was dead—if I would still exist in some way.
Murky air was forced into my lungs, expunging the water from them. I opened my eyes to see the gorgeous face of an unknown girl pressed up close to mine. I panicked and tried to push her away but she clamped a hand over my mouth and nose and held my shirt in her other hand so that I could not escape. I quickly realized that I was still in the water and that she was keeping me from drowning, so I gave up the resistance. It was incredibly dark, so when she let go of me I could no longer see her; I moved my arms about to try and find her, but she was gone. Someone gripped my hand in an iron grasp and I wondered who, or what, else could be down there, so far away from anything living. I wondered if it was a watchman at the Gates of Death, pulling me along to my new abode since I was taking too long getting there on my own. Through the murky water I could see a shimmering light and I was glad to think that I would not be confined to groping in darkness in the afterlife that I had found myself in.
My head broke through the waves and the sunlight almost blinded me. I coughed up the water that had leaked into my mouth and down my throat while someone kept my head above the waves. As soon as the unwelcome liquids had escaped my lungs I turned my head to see who was with me. It was Sendoa.
“You died too?” I croaked.
I had never heard the elf truly laugh before, but it was deep and hearty as it boomed forth across the waves. “You are not dead,” he said, a crooked smile on his face. “As rumor goes, the sea would be black and there would be no sun.”
“I am not dead? What about the magic eater? Is it gone?” I asked, completely bewildered and overjoyed by the revelation that I was still alive.
He arched an eyebrow and said, “Yes, you are alive but I am not sure of much concerning the creature. I dove after you the second you left its back. It was not a magic eater, however.”
“Oh.” We looked around until we spotted the ship; the beast was nowhere in sight so I presumed it gone and Sendoa swam toward the ship, towing me along. “How did you know I could not swim?”
“You grew up in Caernadvall.”
“Right.”
A rope was dropped over the side of the ship as we neared it and Sendoa and I hoisted ourselves onto the deck. “The beast is gone?” I asked my sister, just to be sure. She just stood there, looking strangely at me; she was dripping wet like Sendoa and I, so it could not have been our appearance.
“Yes.”
“Ah, you are still alive,” Koldobika said weakly. I could not tell if the look he was giving me was approving, disapproving, or a mixture of the two.
“What was the creature?” I asked, nodding in answer to his statement and still gulping in the air—which I was delighted to be able to do on my own.
“A demon Lord of the Abyss.” Everyone else had a shocked look on their faces; again I was the only one to stare at him with a complete lack of comprehension. The feeling was getting old rather fast.
“And what is that exactly?” I asked.
“In Caernadvall did you ever hear of a place called Hell?”
“I am familiar with the notion of the Abyss, but not with this demon Lord creature.”
“Ah, wonderful. I will assume then that you were told that it is where all the evil-doers go after death.” He paused for a moment, breathing slowly to calm his stomach. “The demon Lord was, well, a Lord—or highly endowed entity—of the demonic minions that inhabit the place.”
“Okay.” I guessed that was not good, but it still held no real meaning for me.
I was not the only person there though, so Koldobika turned his attention from my simple questions to answering the more prominent worries of others. “How could the demons be returning to the sunlit lands?” Alaia asked.
“I do not know,” he replied.
“You could probably bring things back to life with magic,” I inserted.
“No. The demons were never alive here. They are the rulers of the lands of the dead.” Koldobika said. “And bringing back the dead is beyond the limits of any connection to Lietha.”
I whispered, “Oh.” Then after striking upon an idea, “Wait—if you know about them, does that not imply that they would have to have been here before? If they have been here before, then why can they not come again?”
“Do you know of the unicorns and their short time here?” Izar asked.
“Yes,” Koldobika and I said at the same time, though my reply was easily the more indignant.
“When the unicorns came, they banished the demons back to their lands—they were not supposed to ever be capable of returning here,” my sister explained. Since the unicorns had rid us of the demons in the first place I guessed that they would be doing it again, so I asked to make sure my guess was correct. Alaia whispered that we had no way to know that; Koldobika shifted uneasily but made no comment.
While my company was having a conference, Harkaitz’ crew had been mulling about and a few of them seemed to be worrying that things were not going very well, because the captain called them to attention and then came to ask if he and his men could have an update on recent events. Alaia reassured them that everything was fine, that the demon was gone, and that we could travel on in safety. After her words, Harkaitz congratulated me on ridding us of the demon Lord, and after they had a name to go with the action, his crew began to shout my name, calling me the Demonslayer.
“How did you get rid of it?” Izar asked once the exclamations had died down.
“Me? I thought it was someone else,” I said. “The demon was still there when I fell into the sea and by the time Sendoa got me back to the surface it was gone.”
“I could not even get near the demon, it flicked me into the sea before I could try to do it any harm,” Izar said in annoyance.
“I stabbed it with a sword and this happened when it burst into red light,” I said, holding up my hands to show the scorched palms.
“Did you use any magic?” Alaia questioned.
“I tried to banish it, but did not know if it would work.” I could see Alaia getting worked-up and everyone else was again startled. Argiñe was the only one who seemed unaffected by my words. I started to say ‘What?’ but Izar beat me.
“Are you crazy? Even Koldobika cannot banish anything—not even something small as a mouse.”
“How was I supposed to know that?” I defended.
“You should have been turned into a Lietha stone,” Alesander said quietly, pondering the fact—as everyone else was—that I had just used an amount of magic that was far beyond deadly and yet I was standing before them, as alive as I had ever been. A mutual agreement was silently made to give me some peace, and all but Sendoa left me.
“Well, thanks for coming after me,” I said.
“You sound like you would rather I had left you,” he chuckled, and I smiled. “But please, do not go running after things you do not know you can defeat. I have never lost anyone I was guarding before and would rather that it stayed that way.”
“I suppose I could try,” I said, smiling halfheartedly.
~ ~ ~
The storm gates boomed open again as Wavewing slid through the water toward them. The ship that had been a mere skeleton was nearly complete and the other was gone, long since finished.
The crew and passengers of Wavewing ate dinner with the Master shipbuilder, after which we told him about our journey and praised how Wavewing had served us well. Garaile then recompensed us by sharing any news pertaining to Zigor, or anything else of interest that had occurred in the surrounding lands since our departure. That night we lodged in the building where he and all of the workers, captains and crews slept.
We woke two hours before the sun rose and were ready to go after a warm breakfast of porridge and some sort of fish. Garaile walked with us to the edge of his shipyard and bid us farewell and a safe journey. I had fallen behind so I thanked the man for the great service he had done in lending us a ship and crew. He bowed his head in thanks and waved as I led Aitor to catch up with my companions; I turned and raised my hand in farewell as we neared the slope. Sendoa waited at the rear of the group and glanced over his shoulder every so often until I was just ahead of him on the path.
~ ~ ~
It was a while after leaving Garaile’s place that I felt I was being watched; the feeling was faint, as if the watcher was quite a distance off, but it still worried me. I searched the surrounding plains, stretching my gaze as far as I could, but I could not find any indications of a spy. The feeling continued to intensify throughout the day and eventually I mentioned my unease to Koldobika, who pointed out a speck high above us in the sky. He said that the spy had been following us since that morning, when we had left the cover of the Northern Woods. The wizard acted as if the creature was of no importance, since it had been expected that we would run into Zigor’s scouts at some point on our return trip.
All through the next day the creature followed us, until shortly before dusk as we neared the outskirts of the Oihana forest. Alaia warned everyone when the spy disappeared—its absence was of greater importance than its presence. With a nod from Koldobika, Alesander took off galloping in front of us and then Sendoa and Erlantz followed, forming a spearhead. I rode behind the three guards, with Izar and the wizard on my flanks. After leaving Garaile’s home Alaia had taken up riding with Izar, and Argiñe with me, so it was only Balendin who took up the rear, directly behind the dark skinned warrior and me.
As we flew silently across the last stretch of the grassy fields between us and our home forest the moonlight streamed down and reflected off any smooth surfaces bared to its glow. The race did not last long and we began to slow as we neared the edge of the forest, so that no one would accidentally be impaled by a low-hanging branch or be splattered against the trunk of one of the huge trees. At the speed we had been going, we had spread out both in length and width, so that if any of us had to stop suddenly the others would also have the time to react. As we passed beneath the outermost branches of the towering oaks we were going at a mere gallop, but still Alesander slowed us, eventually bringing the group to a complete halt.
“Why are we stopping?” Izar asked.
“Should we not continue toward Baso Argi?” I added, when no one answered my sister's query. The guards and wizard had all dismounted and were preparing a campsite for both dinner and sleep.
“It is likely that someone has set an ambush so we wait ‘til dawn, or to take them where we are,” Alesander explained.
23 UNDESIREABLE COMPANY
Since lying down I had steadily grown more tense, and though it was long past midnight I was unable to sleep. A twig snapped and I sprang to my feet, I flung my blanket to the side and drew my sword in one, swift movement. Facing the direction from which the sound had come, I barely kept the dagger in my other hand from flying, before I recognized the perpetrator. It was Erlantz.
After my surprise had passed and he had come close enough for whispered speech I asked, “What are you doing?”
“I cannot sleep. Sorry for disturbing you,” he replied, bobbing his head.
“It is fine. I cannot sleep either.” We both heard a soft, whistling sound, ringing through the darkness, but I did not understand its meaning.
“Duck,” the guard said sharply. His warning was a second late and an arrow lodged itself in my left shoulder; my pain-filled yell woke the rest of our group and they all reacted to the sound as I had to the snapping branch. Never having contemplated the consequences of pulling an arrowhead from my flesh, I ripped it out. After that the use of barbs on the backs of arrowheads made complete sense—just how stupid would your enemy have to be to try and yank out an arrow? The arrow’s withdrawal hurt worse than its entry and I could not help but wonder how many of my companions had witnessed my stupidity.
I threw the offensive arrow into the fire pit and then our enemy was upon us. The attackers were mere men and, though they fought better than any I knew, they were no match for our combined strength. At one point I thought that one of the men was going to try and escape, but one of the guards sent a dagger flying toward him with perfect aim. I failed to notice that I was bleeding profusely so I let my shoulder wound pass unchecked through the length of the attack. My vision started to go blurry as I fought one of the last few men and shortly after Sendoa severed the head of the last one, I fainted from blood loss.
~ ~ ~
The first time I tried to sit up, the world spun hectically about me, so I waited for it to calm down. As soon as I managed to fully sit up I asked of Izar and Alaia (who were the only ones visibly present), “What happened?” I had never before fainted and found it deeply humiliating.
“You fainted,” Izar said bluntly.
“So very kind of you to state the obvious,” I said sarcastically.
Then Alaia added, “From loss of blood.” I decided that that was as good a reason as I could get for passing out, so I let it go, with a slight nod of my head in acknowledgment. I realized that my shirt was off and I had a bandage wrapped in a weird fashion around my left shoulder, secured under my arms.
“Is it healed yet?” I asked, because I could not feel any pain from the arrow wound.
“Almost.” Koldobika suddenly appeared and knelt at my side. “Do you remember what happened?”
I pulled my eyebrows together. “Yes. Why would I not?”
“I am only confirming that you are well.”
“Oh.” I looked around and realized that Argiñe Bakar stood about ten feet away, but the guards were nowhere to be seen. I asked the wizard where they were and he replied that they were burying the men who had attacked us.
“Why not just burn them?” I aske
d.
“Few of the men who serve Zigor choose to do so willingly—I believe that they deserve a bit of decency. And we would not have been able to make a large enough fire in the middle of the forest without a clearing.” I nodded, as I realized that Koldobika was right, in all aspects of what he had just said. The reminder, that many of the King’s warriors did not choose willingly to be such, brought Arrats to the front of my mind.
“Can we leave for Caernadvall as soon as we return to Baso Argi?” I asked hopefully.
“I am not sure.” That was all he would say and I left it alone because just then the guards walked through the trees to where we were and it was time to saddle up and be on our way. Unlike the pine forests to the North, the oaks of the Oihana created a thick canopy, such that we could make it from one end to the other without being seen by anything above the treetops. We did not have to worry much about spies watching our progress, or scouts attacking us in the middle of the night because—although, with each step we took, we drew nearer the enemy—we steadily drew deeper into our own territory, and the only manner in which Zigor’s hosts would be able to pass into our inner borders was in the form of an army.
~ ~ ~
The next three days that it took us to reach Baso Argi went peacefully and when we arrived the place looked the same as when we had left, with the same wide range of beings walking its dirt and cobblestoned streets. The only difference was that the people carried more weapons and armor with them wherever they went. Though they seemed lighthearted and possibly ignorant of the threat that loomed without the safety of their beautiful home, the creatures were all very aware of it and there was a solid look of determination in their bright eyes. However, quick to smile, and friendly in passing, they kept the haven peaceful and joyous.
