She headed for the nearest Naereid. Timid and unarmed, Finala was dodging and feinting, trying to tire a foe she had little hope of overcoming. Kelara swept in from overhead, pulling at the Rotbringer’s bubble-helmet. This one was not properly attached. It levered off at once to expose a bald head alive with maggoty growths. She did not stay to see the thing die, though she revelled in Finala’s triumphant mind-shout.
In a nearby clearing – the result of an earlier death – two of her sisters struggled with a single opponent. As Kelara approached, one of them cut the ties while the other wrested its helmet off. Both Naereids swept back to watch the abomination drown.
Kelara lent assistance to more of her sisters. Where a Naereid was already locked in combat, she darted in and wrestled the cage from her opponent’s head. In other cases, she acted as a distraction, allowing the Naereid to take the offensive and remove the helmet herself.
Some of the foul creatures showed a vile cunning. Seeing the battle went against them, they plunged their own weapons into their breasts, triggering violent self-destruction. Kelara wondered what punishment awaited them on their return to the green-above, to make such a fate attractive. Or perhaps they were simply insane, mindless creatures of Chaos.
Finally, as the last drowned invader’s body sank to the depths, Kelara surveyed the damage. One in ten of her Naereids had perished. A quarter of the forest had been destroyed or harmed. But the blight showed no sign of spreading beyond its initial, explosive infection. It could have been far worse.
She led the uninjured Naereids down to where the kelp anchored itself to the rocky sea floor, to locate both their fallen sisters and the weapons and equipment of the Chaos invaders. Their own folk would remain untouched, though when time permitted Kelara would speak words of blessing over them, before leaving the silt-worms and spine-urchins to return the dead to the cycle of life. But every tainted item from the green-above had to be ejected from the sea.
Once, before Chaos had wracked the land, this part of the coast had been the shore-dwellers’ greatest settlement. Here, they had honoured the sea-dwellers they lived in harmony with. But those days were long gone. Every last shore-dweller had either been slain or corrupted, their homes abandoned, their fields left barren.
The corrupted shore-dwellers who attacked her realm must have been a lost enclave, or perhaps a tribe from distant lands; her knowledge of the wider realm beyond the immediate shoreline was limited. It had been years beyond counting since she had ventured into the green-above. As the shore-dwellers had died or left, she had less and less reason to do so. Even the seasons had drifted out of kilter, as the mountains that shepherded the winter became erratic, turning summer to barren cold, then withdrawing to bring sharp and disastrous thaws. Terrible things had happened in the green-above, and it was best avoided.
Once the weapons and fragmentary armour were gathered, Kelara and her Naereids took up their burdens, bundling them in green weed to protect themselves from the dark burn of corruption. Although the forces of Chaos should have moved on by now, Kelara would not let her Naereids go ashore without knowing what they faced. She took the initial steps out onto dry land alone.
Her first feeling was of relief: although the air was ripe with decay, no Chaos horde lurked on the shore, poised to attack any who dared leave the sanctuary of the sea. There was no one here at all.
Then she saw what the green-above had become.
If she had been capable of shedding tears, she would have wept.
Sorcery, you say?
Aye, my lord cousin. Kelara had floated free of the palace floor; she pushed herself back down with a languid wave. Having to stand was one of several inconveniences she endured when she visited Lord Usniel’s reefcastle. Some enchantment trapped the air they needed in a reed cage around their heads.
But it was easily overcome, yes? Just a matter of removing these breathing helmets. The Lord of the Deeps squatted on his dais. Usniel was only man-shaped from the waist up – as befitted the guardian of the great serpents, whose own tails reached into the very roots of the world, in place of legs he had a pair of coiled serpent-tails.
At great cost, as I said! And if the forces of Chaos make such an effort once, then will they not try again?
If they do, they will fail. Nothing from above can overcome us. This is not their realm, and never will be. He gestured heavily, leaving a tracery of lights in the water. His massive body, like the palace walls themselves, was encrusted with glowing nektons.
I hope you are right. She hesitated, knowing the argument was most likely lost before she made it. Yet she had to try. But you did not see what has become of the green-above. There is no green there anymore, save rancid slime and rot. Every part of the land is taken by pestilence. Beyond the tide-line, all that remains is a carpet of vile and stinking skull-like blooms protected by infected thorns.
Hmm. I will have to take your word for that.
Another reason she disliked coming here was the pressure – pressure the Lord of the Deeps needed to survive. Kelara lived among the kelp forests of the shallows, and could briefly visit Usniel’s deep, dark realm. Usniel – older still than her – was both arbiter of and voice for the serpentine beings whose slow, cyclopean motions moved the very waters of the world. While some of the great creatures he commanded could come to the surface, Usniel himself could not leave the deeps.
She deployed her final argument. My lord, the winter mountains themselves have succumbed to Chaos!
The Jotenbergs? That cannot be! For the first time, Usniel’s craggy face showed concern. Like his world-serpents, the mountains that moved were creatures beyond the reach of war or death. They were the bedrock at the heart of the realm of Ghyran: massive, solid… incorruptible.
I only saw one. But rot had infected it. And if one of the living winters has been corrupted, then surely others may have been. She pressed home her argument. Every year the blight intrudes deeper into the kelp forests. My Naereids can barely contain it. And now the forces of Chaos strike directly at our realm. Cousin, we have stood by for too long. We must fight back!
For some moments Lord Usniel was silent. Finally, he said, Resist, yes, but not fight.
Resistance is not enough! While Queen Alarielle rests in her sanctuary, the ruination grows unchecked. We must join with the sylvaneth, and all those in Ghyran who remain faithful to the Everqueen, and combat this threat. How can you just stand by?
You speak out of turn, my lady. You are a creature of the shallows. It pains me that your guardianship of the kelp forests brings you so close to this corruption, but I am the Lord of the Deeps and I do not feel–
A soundless scream tore through the depths.
The Everqueen!
Kelara had never met her queen, but Alarielle was the Mother of All, font of all life in the Jade Kingdoms. Even while she remained hidden in her distant green sanctum, her presence had permeated the realm. But now her refuge had fallen. Her response was a world-shaking shriek of horror and dismay.
Kelara looked to Usniel. His face reflected her shock.
He lifted a heavy arm. Go to your folk, little cousin!
Kelara nodded. Leaving Usniel in his gloomy throne room, she swam past constellations of nektons and up into the light.
Her Naereids had been replanting kelp lost to the Chaos attack. She found them floating unmoving, stunned by the reverberations of the Everqueen’s anguish, or else huddled together, comforting each other.
To me. We must arm ourselves!
The Naereids responded as best they could, and Kelara marshalled them. They took their places on the borders of the forest, serpent-tooth spears out and gazes fixed on routes from above. But no attack came.
When night fell and peace still reigned below, Kelara led a small party of her best fighters to the green-above. The darkness hid the worst ravages of Chaos and no further horrors greeted them. The la
nd remained empty and barren under its crust of corruption, just as she had last seen it.
Finally, with the raw wound of Alarielle’s cry fading, Kelara conceded there was no immediate threat.
But her spirit would not rest.
In the days following the Everqueen’s scream, Kelara patrolled her territory and trained her Naereids without cease. But the next move in the great conflict took a form she could not have imagined.
She was swimming through the kelp forest in fitful daylight when the sky darkened overhead. A storm was brewing. Kelara’s sense of foreboding grew. Suddenly she felt a hint of hope and power, a distant song. She tried to focus on the entrancing soul-melody but it was faint, and not directed her way…
All at once, an unearthly chill spiked down from above. The water overhead solidified, turning instantly to ice.
Kelara did not think – she swam. Freezing water dragged at her limbs. She swam faster, angling downwards.
The frigid, deadly front fell behind. Still she did not slow. Only when she reached the sea bottom did she turn and look back. A full third of the water above was solid ice. Around her, on the shadowed ocean floor, Naereids looked around in alarm; mercifully, those not on patrol had already been down here, tending the newly planted kelp holdfasts. But some had been too close to the surface to evade the ice. She called her sisters to her.
Grab whatever will cut the ice, and split into search parties.
Each group of Naereids took a section of now-frozen forest. Listen for your sisters’ cries! she urged the rescuers as they swam away.
She herself led half a dozen Naereids to the nearest dark spot in the ice. Her mind touched that of Tiva, always one of the most measured and calculating at weapons practice, but now scared and on the verge of panic. Kelara drew her scraper and began to hack at the ice. Others joined her. Two had spears, which they jabbed and poked to loosen frozen lumps and work them free. Together, the rescuers broke through. Tiva tumbled from her icy prison, shocked but unhurt save for bruised limbs and torn wave-wings – she had instinctively curled up tight when the ice engulfed her, protecting her body and head.
The next Naereid they came across had been crushed to death before she could curl into a protective ball.
Another faint echo of life from nearer the surface had Kelara and the Naereids frantically digging up through the ice. One of the spears broke and the Naereid using it drew her scraper. Kelara’s own scraper was half-blunted. They were still a full body-length away when the weak presence faded into death.
As Kelara scanned the ice for more survivors, a sound too deep to hear yet too powerful to ignore boomed through the water. She stopped, her Naereids thrown into disarray by the thunderous reverberation. As the last echoes faded, the ice above began to crack.
Kelara turned, looking for sanctuary, but though the frozen sea overhead graunched and grumbled, only a few lumps of ice broke free. Even so, cracks showed all through the solid barrier above her head now – which might make the rescue easier. She bade her sisters hurry to reach the last few trapped Naereids.
Next they found Assani. Fleet of mind and body, Assani was one of Kerala’s most competent fighters. She had managed to break free by herself once the ice had cracked, leaving her full of confused fury. The second Naereid they freed was near death and was taken off to be nursed by her sisters. Nearby, another of their sisters was already dead: the movement of the ice had crushed the life out of her.
No further calls for help came. Everyone who could be rescued had been.
Do we go to your noble cousin now?
Kelara considered Assani’s question. Both the sudden freeze and the strange concussion that had partially thawed it had come from above, so they would be safer in deeper water. They could run away. Hide. Regroup. Wait out the storm. Usniel would no doubt applaud such a move.
She looked up. Patches of open water showed overhead, areas the ice had not touched, or where it had been shattered. Whatever this latest menace was, it came from up there. They had hidden away for too long; they had done nothing and now the fight had come to them. Kelara had acquired a serpent-tooth spear during the latest rescue and now raised it high, thrusting its point towards the green-above.
No. We go to war!
Yes! Assani’s fierce joy was echoed by her sisters.
Kelara sent her speediest swimmers for the last of the weapons. While spears and javelins were handed out, she scanned the sea with all her senses, wondering where they could best lend help.
Further out to sea, the water remained unfrozen. Here, great lumps of oily darkness were dropping into the water. They bobbed, then floated. A chill colder than the ice went through her. Even at a distance, the stench of foul magic was unmistakable. As another dark mass plunged into the water, then rose and froze in place, Kelara sensed its corruption as a nauseous reek, a bitter taste at the back of her throat that put her very soul on edge. She had no idea what the vile substance was, but it radiated Chaos.
She pointed with her spear. This way, my sisters. Drive the taint from our waters!
She longed to take on the freezing darkness, to eject its defiling influence from her sea. But as she swam towards it, she sensed both the size of, and the magical power emanating from, this putrescent parody of ice. Some foul master of magic was creating a great and abominable construct, reaching out across the open water. Such sorcery was beyond her ability to combat.
Hold! We must be cautious.
She led her Naereids to the edge of the ice, away to one side of the Chaos structure. Then she stuck her head out of the water.
The green-above was white. Kerala had seen snow before, but this was a blizzard fit to scourge the world. No scent of corruption tainted it, but the wintery gale swamped all vision and drowned every sound beneath its howl.
Then, through a gap in the whirling snow, she saw figures. At first she thought them shore-dwellers – men. But these were some peculiar combination of man and beast. Though they stood on two legs, their heads bore great curling horns. They wore ragged furs and skins, and even the snow could not hide their stench – a stench that was more than physical. These were creatures of Chaos. There were perhaps three score of them, meaning her Naereids outnumbered them four to one. At last, a threat they could combat.
She selected those who had some skill in fighting out of the water, the best part of a hundred Naereids in total. Follow me, she instructed. We can take them before they know we are here.
Kelara hauled herself up onto the ice shelf.
The beastmen, with no inkling danger lay in that direction, had their backs to the water.
The Naereids crept forward in a line, keeping low, weapons in hand. The Chaos creatures remained oblivious, intent on events near the bridge-like structure. Whatever was happening over there, it was hidden by the whirling snow.
A little nearer… she told her sisters. Too far away and they would not have the range. Too close, and their foes might sense their approach. When Kelara judged the distance right, she held up a hand. The Naereids stopped at once.
Now!
They hurled their javelins.
A third of the beastmen fell, skewered on thin bony blades. Would these foul creatures explode like the ensorcelled underwater invaders? she wondered. But they just dropped to the ice, gargling and screeching, much to her savage delight.
The surviving beastmen turned to face the unexpected threat.
Attack!
The Naereids rushed forward, Kelara at their head. The ice slid away from her damp, webbed feet, and she fought to stay upright. From the corner of her eye she saw two of her companions fall, while others stumbled, then caught themselves. Up here they were the clumsy ones.
Their opponents had their weapons drawn now. One scowling individual threw a rusty hand-axe, and a Naereid fell with a whistling shriek. The beastmen stood firm, braced to meet the charge, bu
t the Naereids did not falter.
Kelara targeted a big brute with a broken horn and a necklace of red-stained fingerbones. Her first thrust was clumsy, the spear too light in her hand. The beastman knocked her blow aside. Kelara ducked under his pitted sword.
Having to fight on land robbed her of a whole dimension, but she was already adjusting to the lack of water resistance. Hand to hand, such free movement was a boon – she was faster than her opponent. While it was still completing its sword-swing, she brought her spear up from below, piercing the creature’s side.
The beastman grunted and staggered back, but did not fall. She had missed its vital organs.
She tugged the spear free, dodging to the side as her enemy’s rusty blade sliced the air. She extended the movement to pirouette on the spot, using the slippery ice to her advantage.
Her opponent was fazed; his next strike fell short. That was the chance she needed. Releasing her momentum, she stabbed side-on, spear braced in both hands. Her blow punched straight through the beastman’s chest, cracking ribs. It howled in agony, dropping even as she pulled her weapon free with a spurt of dark blood.
Another foe loomed out of the snow. This one was squat, with a single eye, the other just an oozing, infected scar. Kelara, elated at her success, thrust her spear into its remaining eye before it could raise its weapon. It screeched, warped hands clutching at the ruin of its face, and fell backwards.
She pulled her weapon from the beastman’s head and looked around. The nearest Naereid, Chella, was holding off two beastmen. Kelara sprang forward, plunging her spear into the back of the larger foe. It whirled. The spear, half embedded in its back, was jerked out of her hands.
Her opponent nearly matched her in height. It snorted through its pock-marked snout and raised a barb-ended chain flail. With its free hand, it reached back, knocking the spear free. The weapon slid away across the ice.
Kelara went for her scraper – even half-blunt, it should cut through this creature’s hairy flesh, if she could just land a blow.
Inferno Volume 2 - Guy Haley Page 9
