The fabric slightly gave way. Elinor stepped aside and peeled back one of the edges. There was a hollow space behind. The last emotion she felt while gazing at the coat of arms was courage. Perhaps it had been caused by House Aysgarth’s motto that was clearly inscribed or was a result of her new disposition after having regained her afterglow. To Elinor it didn’t matter. What mattered was for her to continue moving forward. There was no turning back and she desperately needed a major victory. She knew her win against Ka΄Phar was but a brief skirmish in a much larger war.
Reassured by the pendant’s response, Elinor crossed the hidden corridor’s threshold. As light penetrated the darkness, Elinor came to a sudden halt while simultaneously holding her breath. She was surrounded by the enemy.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Elinor stared at aurora-hunters massed together, lying motionless and breathing deeply. She stood frozen. They appeared to be hibernating and showed no indication they had been alerted to her presence. Her first instinct to lash out was quickly subdued as she considered other options, preferably one that didn’t result in close quarter combat. Realizing she had been holding her breath, Elinor slowly exhaled. According to the pendant, she seemed to be heading in the right direction. Backtracking to a safer route was a viable choice, but there was no guarantee she would be able to find another path to wherever the pendant was taking her. Regardless, she would likely encounter other aurora-hunters along the way. Then she considered whether her best option was to proceed along her present course and if so, how to navigate the obstacle before her without facing certain death; the numbers were not in her favor.
And then without any further thought, Elinor made her decision. It was extremely risky and could end in absolute failure. The Elinor of old would have made an entirely different choice, but not the Elinor brimming with confidence. She gingerly took a step forward. Then another, followed by another. Before she realized, she was deep within the pack, surrounded by snoring whimpers that made her cringe. It was the closest she had ever been to the enemy. Knowing they were blind brought some comfort since her afterglow combined with the pendant’s glow was shining like a torch in the dead of night, lighting the way under the direst of conditions. Sound however was her true dilemma. The slightest noise or vibration could result in a sudden awakening that she would be unable to defend against. Elinor cleared her mind of worst-case scenarios and pressed on.
Her light shone on a staircase that had aurora-hunters sprawled out as it hugged the wall along its downward trajectory. There was no way of telling how far down it went or how many of the enemy lay in wait. Negative thoughts entered Elinor’s mind. Had she made a fatal decision by choosing the wrong path? What would she do if the aurora-hunters stirred? The pendant in conjunction with her afterglow dimmed. She stood looking over the railing, paralyzed by indecision. Proceed or turn back? Neither sounded appealing. What would my father do? Elinor asked herself. Although unwise, she closed her eyes in search of an answer. Think, Elinor, she repeated in her mind.
She recalled the Lancian motto, Courage and Wisdom on Equal Footing. Courage wasn’t the issue. For her to continue, Elinor needed to rely on wisdom. Her eyes studied the top landing she stood on, the staircase’s railings and risers and treads while searching for a solution. The space grew brighter as positivity crowded her consciousness. One idea after another surfaced until she narrowed her options, deciding it best to avoid the steps altogether. She wasn’t going to walk down, she planned to climb down.
Astutely aware of the need for silence, Elinor removed the rope from her satchel and tied it around the top handrail. Under normal conditions she would have tested the knot and load capacity by tugging the rope, but she feared any resulting noise. Elinor straddled the railing. She gripped the rope and slowly added her weight. A subtle creak caused her to wince. After a moment that seemed like forever, she was reassured that the pack continued to slumber, and proceeded down.
By placing one foot over the other and pinching the rope between them, she descended. Her biggest dilemma was her fear of heights. Periodically she had to look down to judge her distance to the next level while ensuring she had enough rope. The swiveling of her head added to her uneasiness, making her queasy. Her descent required several breaks that were taken while clinging to the outside of the handrails and placing her weight on the treads. The pack thinned the lower she got, which was encouraging. With each movement her spirits lifted, until she saw the end of her rope dangling midair, but no bottom landing. She would have to proceed the rest of the way on foot.
Leaving her rope behind was an unfortunate consequence of her decision, especially since it was one of the few remaining items that Morbis had provided her, but she slid over the railing without giving it further thought. Every step down the remainder of stairs was taken with extreme care. Elinor quickly developed a system. She would take two steps and then pause to look up, listen for movement, then proceed. It was a painfully slow process, but one of necessity. Her eyes brightened when she saw the bottom.
Elinor stood at the foot of the stairs, relieved she had made it without incident. The pendant was shining brightly and the path before her seemed clear. She looked up one last time. Then, without further delay, she turned and softly moved forward with her polearm extended. From behind there was an abrupt crack, followed by falling debris. Elinor spun, staring at her rope that was coiled around remnants of the top handrail that had given way. Incensed by the loud crash, piercing shrieks rose in volume as the pack awakened.
On the run, Elinor burst from the subterranean corridor into a much wider one. Subdued sunlight percolated between draped windows. She heard scampering paws moving toward her, followed by the all too familiar sounds of echolocation. Prudence was no longer her concern. Speed was what she needed to survive, and a healthy dose of good fortune. Moving feverishly in an unknown place filled with countless doors and darkened hallways was no small feat, all while remaining vigilant. At any moment, around the next bend or through the next doorway, there could be a dead end or worse, more aurora-hunters. Elinor was forced to backtrack multiple times when the pendant made it known she had chosen the wrong direction.
Her dash from danger toward what she anticipated would be some resemblance of safety or, at the very least, another warrior capable of fighting by her side, was occupied by thoughts of what she had left behind—Morbis and the safety afforded by the emergence of a light-bearer army; the slight comforts afforded by the temple; Zi, who she expected still flew above but was unable to reach her; her own desire of self-preservation; and all for a man that she had never met. It was a significant sacrifice that she willingly chose, but one that wasn’t without extreme hardship. The longer her search lasted, the more she feared Aysgarth wouldn’t be located before the pack reached her.
As Elinor darted past a mosaic-decorated corridor deep inside the mountain, she was jerked backward by the cord draped around her neck. She did a stutter step and then quickly recovered. The pendant had swung behind her neck and was now floating. It was pulling her back toward the tiled passage. Elinor obeyed the pendant’s will by correcting her route.
The corridor she entered seemed infinite. Similar to the tunnel she had fled through after her first encounter with the scavenger, the walls were covered by what appeared to be a timeline. Elinor suspected it was the history of House Aysgarth since there were depictions of Lancian warriors fighting one another, followed by celebrations of victory, only to once again be shadowed by more violence that finally ended in what looked to be the pinnacle of Lancian society with Aysgarth being honored. The banner of House Aysgarth was a common theme along the timeline that gave Elinor the opinion the Aysgarth bloodline had prevailed over both internal and external threats to become the dominant house. Even within the cold and damp confines of the corridor, the sea wolf’s eyes had a way of drawing her in. The feeling was uncanny and inevitability familiar. With the sounds of the pack getting closer, Elinor gave it her all and surged ahead.
As she rounded the next bend, faint light appeared to denote the corridor’s end. A beam flowed through a break in the ceiling, highlighting a symbol on the floor. Behind it, a wide opening was observable. The arched entrance was identified from Elinor’s vision as the internal entry to the seamount. The closer she got, the more pull the pendant exerted on her. Elinor was unable to keep up with the pendant’s pace. She lost her footing and stumbled, being pulled across the floor. With one hand she managed to hold on to her weapon, the other she used to try to free herself from the pendant that was dragging her and, in the process, strangling her. Ax blades clattered over the cobblestone floor, creating sparks.
The pack skirted the bend and came into focus. Even as she was being pulled across the ground, she saw the swarm disperse. They advanced along the ceiling, the floor, and both walls, screeching and clicking in frenzy. Elinor struggled to breathe and her face was a disturbing shade of blue. On the verge of losing consciousness she had enough awareness to raise her polearm against her neck. The maneuver was risky, but she had no choice. She placed one of the blades close to her neck and then pulled down on the cord while simultaneously raising her polearm.
The cord snapped, freeing Elinor, and sent her spiraling into the wall. Slightly dazed, she watched the pendant streak the rest of the way and then settle atop the symbol. It remained there, softly cooing while shuddering. Elinor could tell something was wrong. She scampered over while looking back to gage the pack’s proximity. They were dangerously close.
Elinor pushed her bangs behind her ears. Her eyes blinked rapidly. She had only moments before the pack would be upon her. The circular symbol on the floor was disjointed. With its misshapen outline, its nonsensical appearance was meaningless. Elinor was able to identify fragments of familiar objects such as eyes, fingers, and pronged tips. There also appeared to be fur.
The broader problem she faced, however, was the pendant. It hovered over an indentation placed at the center of the symbol, wobbling and making what sounded like a distress call. The cooing had become a high-pitched whine. Elinor judged the indentation was an exact match to the pendant’s shape. She tried to force it by applying pressure with both hands, but the soldered bracket used to attach the cord to the pendant was preventing it from properly seating. Hurriedly, she extracted her dagger.
With some effort she tried to remove the attachment that allowed the pendant to be worn like an ornamental piece. It wouldn’t budge. She looked back again. Aurora-hunter mandibles were opening in anticipation of a strike. Beads of sweat fell from Elinor’s forehead. She grabbed her polearm while holding her dagger over the pendant and then used the ax head like a hammer striking a chisel. Forcefully she pounded away. Elinor released a dreadful scream, expecting any moment she would be doubled over from behind and shredded to pieces.
After several glancing blows, followed by two precise strikes, the bracket cracked, allowing the pendant to fall into place. Elinor swiftly rolled to the side. A violent surge coursed from the symbol, forcefully driving aurora-hunters back. They landed in a heap, disoriented and enraged. The tiles began to rotate. Intense light flowed from the floor. Elinor watched as the image of a sea wolf took shape. When the last tile fell into place, light streamed from floor to ceiling in a condensed beam. Within it, the outline of a man materialized. At first, he looked smoky and transparent, but rapidly turned into a solid entity. Flowing hair and intimidating eyes of silver, along with armor adorned with a sea wolf, distinguished him from any other.
The stasis chamber fell silent. Elinor stared at Aysgarth in the flesh, who gazed ahead with penetrating conviction. His sword was already drawn and pointed forward, placed over his left arm that was extended across his body. Out of the corner of his eye he briefly looked at Elinor who was laid out on the floor with her back positioned against the wall. With a curt battle cry, the sword shone in blazing glory, and then he shuffled forward in a tactical hunch. The first aurora-hunter charged.
Aysgarth briskly stepped to the side and swung his sword across his body, slicing through its mandibles with one blow. He spun and then plunged his weapon deep into the creature’s side. It fell when he twisted the blade. Elinor gawked at how he moved with fluidity and military precision. Every thrust, swing, parry, and step was deliberate to conserve energy and ensure maximum impact. Elinor had always admired her father’s battle skills, but Aysgarth stood apart by how he engaged the enemy. Apparently Lancians had shared their fighting style with light-bearers because like her, Aysgarth leapt with his weapon while kicking out for added thrust. He swung his sword like a man possessed. A trail of light lingered behind as the blade sliced through air and pierced the enemy.
One after another, aurora-hunters succumbed to Aysgarth’s superior fighting prowess. His sword easily penetrated their layered exoskeletons. An entire head was severed with one mighty blow. From behind, another appeared to have him dead to rights, but as it tried to strike, Aysgarth spun so rapidly that to Elinor he looked like a distortion. He then drove his blade deep into its open jaw.
Aurora-hunters swarmed in numbers as he screamed in defiance and pounded his chest. Purple blood covered surfaces and most of Aysgarth. Elinor lay against the wall, bewildered by the sight of so much gore and Aysgarth’s behavior. He was mad with vengeance. If not for his abrupt shout, Elinor may have watched the entire scene unfold without any involvement. It was glorious to see an enemy that had once been viewed as indestructible being obliterated by just one warrior.
“Light-bearer!” shouted Aysgarth. “Get off your ass and fight!”
Elinor blinked multiple times and then snapped to. She grabbed her polearm and inserted herself into the battle, receiving instructions from Aysgarth even before she had taken her first step.
“Right flank, right flank!” he commanded. “Stay in line. Steady now, steady.”
Side by side, they advanced by taking half steps. Even during the midst of battle, Elinor felt chills move through her body. Never had she imagined she would be taking the fight to the enemy in such fashion. She and Morbis were always on the defense, running and hiding, fighting only to facilitate their escape. But with Aysgarth she was on the offense. And winning.
“They are sensitive to sound,” he bellowed. Aysgarth glanced at her with a wry smirk. “Scream, light-bearer. Scream!” He took advantage of a pause in the aurora-hunter encroachment to clank his sword against the floor while howling and shrieking. Elinor mimicked his behavior. “Advance!” he directed. They both took one step. “Advance!” Another step forward. Aysgarth nodded as Elinor fell into place and picked up his tactics rather quickly. She moved in unison without any further guidance. Instead of issuing a command to advance, his instructions were replaced by a forceful grunt. Battle cry, step. Battle cry, step. The distance from the frazzled pack became no more than an arm’s length.
Elinor tried to remain focused on her own targets and tactics. But how Aysgarth fought and spun his sword was both inspiring and distracting. He had a way of spinning and dodging while rolling the hilt of his sword across his wrist to quickly change position. At times he stood in a traditional fighting stance, holding his sword upright. And then other times his sword was pointed down. He leapt and stooped; slid and deflected. The pack steadily thinned as they continued their onslaught.
While both dealt with their respective targets, and Aysgarth advanced faster than Elinor, an aurora-hunter managed to break through their line by clawing along the ceiling. With both preoccupied, neither engaged the threat that had slipped between them. The creature turned and charged Elinor. Aysgarth finished off the last aurora-hunter within his line of sight and turned. He raised his sword overhead while simultaneously blaring, “Get down!”
Elinor saw the blazing sword leave his hands heading straight for her. Her polearm was stuck in the side of her final target when her eyes grew wide in shock. She let go and dropped just as the sword twirled above her, striking the creature behind her in the head. It fell on top of her, dead. She struggled to br
eathe as the aurora-hunter’s immense weight smothered her. Her attempt to push it off was unsuccessful. She heard a grunt and then saw Aysgarth’s bloodied face.
“Sometimes it is to a warrior’s advantage to be small and nimble. It seems this is not one of them.” He chuckled while removing the creature. Aysgarth assisted Elinor up. He studied her. “You fight well. You must have had a good teacher.”
“My poddy,” she murmured.
Aysgarth recovered his sword and checked to see if the threat persisted. None had survived.
“We won the battle,” declared Elinor cheerfully.
“This? This was but a skirmish. The true battles are yet to come.” Aysgarth turned to face her while sheathing his sword. Purple blood dripped from his lean body. “Status?” he barked. He responded to Elinor’s look of confusion with a stern expression. “Where is your army? Do you serve the Circle of Six? Has the darkness been defeated? How many have succumbed? And where is my fleet?”
Not knowing what to say or how to respond, Elinor spread her hands and replied, “Everyone.”
“Everyone what?” He stepped forward. “Speak plainly, girl.”
Elinor was quickly becoming flustered under Aysgarth’s inquisition. “Everyone is dead.”
Aysgarth’s face drooped. His cheeks fluttered in anger. “You are the last?” he asked in a more measured tone.
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