Angst Box Set 1
Page 34
She returned to the center of the throne room. Aereon had dropped his rapiers and raised both palms to face her. Moving his arms in rapid circular motions, he took one step forward, leaning into the attack while bracing himself against the floor for balance. His arms picked up speed. Wind pummeled the statue as the force of a thousand gales flew from his hands. The throne room doors burst open with the sudden change in pressure, but the statue smiled as though merely enjoying a cool spring breeze. She tilted her head to look behind Aereon. With a nod, the marble floor beneath him turned to sand.
Aereon’s footing instantly gave way. He slid, a startled expression on his fierce face, and then flew back into a nearby pillar. Screaming in pain, Aereon lost his focus. Victoria and the guards dropped to the floor, no longer pinned against the walls and pillars by his will. The guards nearest Tyrell quickly made their way to him to assess the damage done.
“In a hundred years, your wind may erode no more than a thin layer of stone. Thus has always been the results of battle between the elements of Air and Earth!” the statue informed Aereon. “There is nothing you can do here. Your meddling is finished.”
“You are no host!” Aereon accused, pointing a finger at the statue. Panic filled his face at this realization, and he drew in a ragged breath.
The queen screamed and grabbed at her eye. She looked around the room wildly, confused and desperately lost. Victoria tore her gaze away from Aereon and the statue woman, and ran behind pillars, attempting to avoid notice as she made her way to the throne. Cautiously, she knelt by the queen. Moving her mother’s hand aside, Victoria carefully lifted the eyelid covering Aereon’s stormy eye.
“Victoria, what’s going on?” the queen sputtered, slowly coming out of her stupor.
“The storm is gone!” Victoria said in astonishment.
“I am not a host,” the statue replied to Aereon.
“There are rules! I was told there are rules!” Aereon’s rapiers were forgotten. He stomped around like a spoiled child. “You can’t be here! I was promised these people were mine.” His hand swept around the room, but his gesture seemed to include all of Unsel.
“The rules have just changed, little host,” the statue said as she grabbed the collar of Aereon’s jacket, lifting him from the ground. “And I would guess your services will soon no longer be needed.”
Twelve magic wielders stood outside the Wizard’s Revenge, empowered but unprepared. Andec was scared for the others. He was far too old for battles with monsters, but hoped his presence would temper the unrestrained excitement he saw in the younger eyes around him. The prospect of letting loose abilities that had been mostly hidden their entire lives was intoxicating. He feared that would lead to reckless mistakes.
“This is too easy!” he cautioned loudly, creating a portal in front of a lone bird. The portal closed before the attacker had completely passed through, leaving the front half to crash into a nearby building while the rear fell sloppily to the ground. “I thought there were hundreds of these things.”
Several moments later, a flash of shiny metal talons and purple plumes flew toward them. Janda casually torched it with another bolt of fire, almost removing the ear of the man in front of her. Her eyes apologized in response to his wide-eyed stare.
“Everyone face away from the center when attacking,” Andec barked in a tired and hoarse voice. The lack of monsters was disconcerting, making him tense. He waved the group to follow him across the abandoned cobblestone walkway. “There’s an alley ahead that will take us to the main road.”
The magic wielders bunched together like a small mob rather than a troop of trained soldiers. They huddled behind their old leader en masse until forced to walk shoulder to shoulder through the thin alley. The temperature dropped to a violent shiver, intensified by their situation. The alley had little debris, amplifying the sound of each step against the close walls. Several times Andec stopped to turn and shush a young man in the back who couldn’t stop muttering to himself in his nervousness.
When they reached the end, Andec didn’t yell “halt” like a military procession, nor did he hold up his hand in warning. He simply made an odd hissing sound, as though the words strangled in his throat, unable to edge out past his tongue and teeth.
The dim light of sunset reflected off thousands of purple velvet wings and thin metallic beaks. The large birds blanketed the entire road leading to the castle. Each of them shuffled about, pecking at the ground like geese in a field. Several of the birds made loud shrilling sounds and stabbed at each other with their long beaks.
“What are they doing?” asked Tanden, a middle-aged bookkeeper. He leaned forward, squinting to better discern what was going on.
Andec paled and turned away from the birds. He attempted to urgently wave everyone back down the alley in hopes they could safely return to the Wizard’s Revenge, but it was like pushing back the tide. The small mob leaned toward him, craning to get a better look.
“Th-they’re...they’re eating,” Janda said brokenly, covering her mouth.
The monster birds feasted on carcasses of horses and people strewn over the main road. Andec continued trying to usher everyone back, but couldn’t dislodge the foothold of morbid curiosity. The nervous young man in the back finally got a good look, and forcefully emptied the contents of his stomach. The retching sounds were loud enough to garner the attention Andec had hoped to avoid.
Most of the birds flapped their wings nervously, the sound like a roar as they lifted into the sky. They hovered over their dinner, giving an unobstructed view of the grotesque remains. The monster birds closest to the alley peered with evil intent then raced on their metallic clawed talons toward the magic wielders.
With every ounce of courage he could muster, Andec stepped around the corner of the building, making room for others to attack the approaching foes. The magic wielders formed a line along the wall of an old brick building.
“Now!” Andec commanded.
The earth shook, startling the mass of birds charging them. Janda cast beams of fire, shearing several birds into pieces. Her sister, Nikkola, fought with similar beams of black light. Tanden shook as he reached out with two cupped hands. He focused on a target and squeezed his hands together. Space seemed to shrink around the bird as it was crushed from all sides.
“Don’t fight just one at a time! We need to kill faster!” Andec yelled as the magic wielders fended off the birds, each in their unique way. But he was already tiring—the portals he created were becoming smaller and now only absorbed a target or two.
Others faced the same dilemma. Good intent does not make up for inexperience. The fifty monster corpses lying before them were not enough to stop, or even slow down, the rapid march. Andec leaned forward, placing his hands on his knees as he panted to catch his breath. When the attacking flock was only ten feet away, he looked at the ground then closed his eyes tight. He heard the monsters’ excited screeches and braced for the inevitable.
But he was still panting, still breathing, and there were no screams of pain from his companions. Andec looked up to see that the first wave of monstrous purple birds had apparently disappeared. He turned to Nikkola with a confused expression and pulled on her sleeve.
“Just watch. You won’t believe this,” she said, shaking her head.
Another wave of birds approached. The cobblestones beneath the birds shifted, rippling like water as gamlin burst from the road to grapple with the purple birds, forcefully pulling them into the ground and out of sight. One of the gamlin crawled up through a cobblestone to stand before Andec. The creature looked at him with its red eyes, and its small human-like face smiled. It clicked its long bear claws together several times before nodding at him. As if this were enough, it turned and dove back into the hard ground. Andec cautiously swept his foot over the cobblestone into which the gamlin had disappeared. It was solid once again.
“I guess we have reinforcements,” Andec declared with renewed energy. “Keep fighting!”
“Aim!” Andec responded, directing his next portal into the sky.
“Stairs would’ve been nice,” Tarness joked as he pulled himself through the hole Angst had created. He reached down and grabbed Hector’s hand to hoist him up.
“Does someone want to explain to me what just happened?” Hector asked loudly, grunting as Tarness effortlessly yanked him through the opening.
Dallow folded his hands together so Rose would have a foothold. She remained quiet as she carefully stepped up, holding onto his head for balance. Rose hesitated at taking Tarness’s proffered hand.
“We don’t have time for this, Rose. I’m not hurt, now come on!” he commanded angrily. He grabbed her hand before she could pull it away and lifted her.
“I didn’t know what would happen, after that...” She looked at the gray man whose head had been split asunder when she healed Angst.
“Now we know,” he replied in his deep voice. “You did good.”
“You did better than good. That was amazing, Rose! You saved all of us!” Dallow enthused. “And it looked like Angst bonded with Chryslaenor. I wonder how he’s doing.”
His question was answered by a distant roar from Ivan.
“Sounds like he’s doing what he always does,” Hector said, shaking his head. “Let’s go see how bad it is this time.”
Within moments, they’d mounted their swifen and were following Hector through Fulk’han. They rode at a careful pace as he attempted to find a safe passage away from Ivan’s followers.
“Are you all right?” Dallow asked Rose.
She nodded slowly, still assessing the effects of her healing. “Actually, I feel great.” Not only had she transferred Angst’s wounds to the creature, but she wondered if she hadn’t rid herself of some as well.
There was an explosion followed by screaming. The clouds above them spun and dissipated as though drawn to the middle of the city. The ground nearby shook, and without a word, Hector rushed to the main road toward Ivan’s stadium. They stopped at the side of the road as hundreds of Fulk’han approached, all running away from Ivan.
“Now what?” Hector asked, reaching around his armor to find a weapon. He pulled out a small skinning knife and stared at it. “I have nothing. Anyone else?”
Before anyone could speak, the Fulk’han arrived. The group moved closer together, but the mass of odd-looking creatures just ran by them and continued down the road. Within ten minutes, the stampede had passed, leaving them mostly alone again.
“That’s not good,” observed Tarness wryly.
There was another explosion and a wrenching scream that sounded like Ivan.
“At least it isn’t Angst,” Dallow offered. “Why are we waiting here? He may need our help!”
A giant Scar, with glowing red eyes and covered in bony protrusions, followed close behind the throng of fleeing Fulk’han. He’d reverted to the monster they’d found in the woods.
“Oh no,” said Rose sadly.
Scar stopped in the road and turned to look at her. His three tails began wagging as he lumbered toward them. Rose instinctively covered her head, but the beast stopped several feet from her. Instead of attacking, he dropped a large chunk of dark purple Ivan at her feet. Obviously proud of his catch, Scar sat with a thud, his tails clearing debris from the road.
Rose looked up and smiled warily. “Good dog,” she said, reaching out to him.
Before their eyes, Scar quickly shrank down to his puppy size and walked to Rose for some love. She looked at Tarness, Hector, and Dallow for affirmation that it was safe, but they gawked in silence, stunned by the sudden transformation.
“Ugh, you need a bath,” she said as she dismounted and cautiously petted Scar, rubbing the back of his now furry ear.
The ground shook again as a ten-foot wide beam of darkness slowly approached them. They pressed their swifen tight against a nearby building. It was so close, Rose felt hairs rise along her arms and the back of her neck. The raw power was palpable, destroying everything in the dark pillar’s path. It picked up speed as it passed them.
Hector dismounted and was the first to step into the road for a better look. He glimpsed the dark beam as it sped away from Fulk’han like a shot arrow. Then Angst’s solid steel ram tore past him, a mere foot away. The wake from Angst’s charge pushed Hector forward several steps.
“That was Angst!” he said with a fist in the air.
“Do we follow him?” Dallow asked.
“Can we follow him?” asked Tarness.
Rose walked away from the group to approach one of the remaining Fulk’han. The pink-hued woman writhed on the ground, moaning in pain. Tears streamed down the Fulk’han’s face. Rose leaned forward to see if she could help.
The woman was muttering in a strained voice, “He killed Takarn. He killed Takarn.”
Rose stood quickly and hurried back to the others. “They think Angst killed their god. We need to leave, now!” she yelled, scooping Scar into her arms.
Rose and Hector quickly remounted their swifen.
“Hang on tight, everyone. Let’s try to catch up,” Hector said with a battle-wild look in his eyes.
44
Fast was an understatement. Lightning crawled in comparison to the swifen’s flight, which was as instant as your life flashing before your eyes after making a bad mistake. Angst had chased Magic through the night and into the break of dawn. Chryslaenor and the ram were glowing in tandem as miles flew by in seconds. At some point, he’d decided to start referring to the powerful beam of darkness as Magic, because what else could it be? Hadn’t Aerella tried to warn them, warn him, that Ivan had become a host for the awesome power Angst now chased?
Foolishly, he’d taken a swing at the dark pillar as they sped out of Fulk’han. Angst had been close enough to make contact, and hours later, his right arm was still somewhat numb and prickly, as if it had fallen asleep. In spite of his attempt to attack, Magic seemed to be ignoring Angst, perhaps not considering him a threat. He’d resolved to continue the chase and try to stop it before it claimed a new host, but he didn’t have a clue how he could stop this element come to life.
He was tired, lost, and had no idea where he was going. And he was alone. Angst wished and willed for his friends to join him. He begged Chryslaenor to help them catch up, but he couldn’t spare even the briefest look over his shoulder.
At times he rode so fast that the landscape around him was only a blur. Indistinct images of trees and rivers all flew by as Magic carved a swath across Ehrde to a destination only it knew. There were also moments that would burn in Angst’s mind forever. Brief periods of surreal horror when the dark beam of power slowed, as though ensuring those unlucky souls in its path would experience fear in the face of death.
Angst would try to ride beside Magic, desperate to warn people away, but it was useless and only gave him a better view. He watched them disappear into the beam, gone forever. Families, pets, houses, all instantly destroyed within Magic’s insatiable hunger. It was almost worse to watch the survivors, and not be able to stop and explain. An old man whose dog was killed, children who lost their parents, and a woman with long, dark blue hair, who stared at Angst with such hate that he felt cold to the bone, as if he’d been standing outside in freezing rain.
They never slowed long enough for Angst to concoct a solution. He focused on staying close to the beam while simultaneously wrestling with the constant barrage of information from Chryslaenor. The foci seemed desperate for Angst to know everything right now. Angst only wanted to know how to stop Magic, but the music provided him with no direct answer.
He laughed out loud as he pondered this situation. Even with all the power at his command, everything Angst had imagined would make him a hero, here he was, still fighting for what he wanted. It was the worst case of ‘be careful what you wish for’ he’d ever heard of, and the laughter left a
bitter taste in his mouth.
Even before Chryslaenor, his day-to-day life had been a constant struggle, and he’d longed to reach the life he knew should be his. Now he realized that life came at a terrible cost. Aerella was dead, Gressmore whatever-it-was-called was gone, Angst had died more than once and was certainly headed for another brush with death. That one more death might leave Heather alone, and the thought sickened him. Why did everything have to be a battle? Why did every battle require so much sacrifice? So much of his sacrifice?
Angst inhaled sharply as he and Magic crested a hill, where the morning sun rose over a distant Unsel. His exhaustion momentarily dissolved into gut-wrenching panic. Ivan had said that Magic would find a new host who Angst wouldn’t fight. There were only two people currently in Unsel he couldn’t lift a finger against, and his mind immediately filled with images of their faces. Heather and Tori. He willed the swifen ram to speed up as a surge of nervous energy coursed through his body.
Magic couldn’t be killed, only contained. Angst remembered the story told by the Nordruaut Jarle, and Chryslaenor’s song confirmed it. In a sense, it had been trapped in Ivan, but Angst couldn’t wait for Magic to find yet another host he’d have to destroy. There had to be another way.
Even from this distance, Unsel did not look healthy. Plumes of dark smoke rose from buildings all around the great city, and a wispy cloud hovered above it. Angst couldn’t help but wonder what else he would face there, and Chryslaenor answered. In his mind, Angst saw a vision of the city at war. Magic wielders fought alongside gamlin against hordes of large dangerous-looking birds. He shook his head in disbelief. How was he supposed to stop this attack while he also captured Magic?