Honor and Blood

by James Galloway

  Tarrin took it as he accepted so many other things in his chaotic life. It was simply the way things were. There was nothing he could do about it, and to be perfectly honest, given what he already had to worry about, he wasn't going to even pay a thought to the idea that he was going to grow a few more fingers and develop little shanks of fur on his ankles. That was not very high up on his list of priorities. The Druidic matter, that was something else, though. He looked down at her steadily. "Will you teach me Druidic magic?"

  "Not now," she replied immediately. "It's something I can't really do while we're running around the steppes of Arak, Tarrin. You'll understand later, trust me," she said quickly when he gave her a disapproving look. "Actually, you'd probably understand now," she said to herself. "Let me put it this way, Tarrin. Remember what happened when you messed up with Sorcery, when you were learning? What happened?"

  "Usually, I'd lose touch with the Weave," he replied after thinking about it a moment. "If I made a bad mistake, sometimes the weave would cause a wildstrike."

  "Well, when you're working with Druidic magic, there is no room for mistakes, Tarrin," she told him calmly. "A Druid only messes up his magic once, and he won't live to learn from his mistake. Any time you do something wrong with Druidic magic, it kills you. It's that simple. Now do you understand why I'm not going to teach you anything unless I have complete control of the environment?"

  Tarrin could appreciate her candor. He nodded slowly, but he was still a little disappointed. If he could learn Druidic magic, he could control his own Sorcery with it, without having to either depend on Sarraya or gamble that he could sever himself from his power before it destroyed him.

  "I'm glad you're not arguing," she said bluntly. "Teaching Druidic magic is a very dicey undertaking. It's hard to learn when you can't even make one mistake. That's why there are so few Druids in the world. Many have the spark, but most of them die long before they gain even a limited command of the power."

  "I'll trust you on that, Sarraya," he told her quietly. "We'll have plenty of time later. So long as you teach me, that's what matters."

  "I'll have to," she said. "You used your power, and you'll use it again eventually. You've opened a beehive, so now I have to teach you how you don't get stung while reaching for the honey. I can supress your Druidic ability the same as your Sorcery, so don't worry about having an accident while I'm around. I'll protect you until it's time for you to start learning."

  "That's good to know," he told her. "I think the water is over that way. Let's go find something to drink."

  "Wow, you're just so overwhelmed," Sarraya said acidly as he reached down and picked her up from the ground.

  "I have too much on my mind to be worried about one little thing, Sarraya," he told her in an emotionless voice. "I've had too many of these little revelations go by to be terribly impressed by any one of them."

  Sarraya chuckled ruefully. "I guess you would get numb after a while," she said as he reached down and scooped her up in his paw.

  "Numb is a good word," he agreed as he moved in the direction of the water.

  It wasn't very encouraging. The water hole was little more than a muddy pool, the center of which bubbled and bulged as water siphoned up from underground. The stamped dirt and mud around it, and the riot of conflicting scents crisscrossing the ground, told him that it was a very popular location in the area. Tarrin knelt down by the edge of the pool, debating between drinking the muddy water or simply going thirsty. But Sarraya made up his mind for him when he felt her use her Druidic magic again, and the muddy color of the water simply disappeared, leaving crystal-clear water in its wake. The pool had some fish in it, and the bottom was a churned landscape of hoofprints, ridges, and holes where animals waded into the shallow pool to drink. The water coming up from underground was muddy, and it was quickly beginning to stain the clean water Sarraya's magic had created. They both quickly drank their fill before the water became contaminated.

  "Much better," Sarraya sighed, looking up at him. Then she looked past him, and her expression turned grim. "Uh, Tarrin, I think you'd better take a look."

  Tarrin looked over his shoulder, in the direction of her gaze. The distant birds he'd seen before were much closer now, and it was apparent that they weren't birds. He looked with a mixture of surprise and anger as six black-prowed ocean vessels drifted in the air about ten longspans to the south, their squarish sails and the flags on their masts marking them as Zakkite. They were about a thousand spans in the air, and it was apparent that they were moving in his direction with impressive speed.

  Skyships! How did the Zakkites get skyships so far inland! Zakkite skyships could fly, but only for a limited amount of time. They literally used flying creatures as fuel for their flying, draining away the life energy of avian creatures in special magical devices to give their ships the power of magical flight. He'd seen them before, had saved an Aeradalla from one of those soultraps quite by accident while blowing it out of the sky. No flying creature could have lived long enough to get a skyship so far inland! Not even a mighty Roc could have given a skyship that much range.

  There was little doubt why they were there. They too could detect the Book of Ages, and they had been tracking him just as the Arakite mages had been. It had only taken them longer to reach him.

  "How did they get in so far?" Sarraya demanded in exasperation as he picked her up from the ground. "There's not a living winged creature strong enough to power a skyship ten days inland!"

  "I really miss Allia about now," Tarrin said, shading his eyes from the setting sun and peering at the ships. They were too far away for him to see very much. Allia's incredible eyesight would have allowed her to count the men on the ships. Even see which ones needed shaving. Several smaller objects suddenly separated from the skyships, and Tarrin squinted to see what they were. It took him a moment, but he realized that they were large winged beasts. And by the shapes of their tails, they looked like Wyverns.

  "I think they're sending out scouts," Sarraya said.

  "They're not scattering," Tarrin said. "They know exactly where they're going."

  "I think that means we should expect company," Sarraya said quickly.

  "Fools," Tarrin snorted, rising up to his full height and glaring in their direction. How stupid could they be? They should know that he commanded Sorcery that could sweep their ships from the sky. They were fools for coming so close, for giving themselves away. But the Wyverns were getting no closer, he realized after a moment. They were moving to his left, not towards them, going somewhere else. To his left was back the way they came, and the Arakite pursuers would be about where those Wyverns were going. Were the Zakkites attacking the mages chasing him? If so, why? What gain could they get from such an act? It would only help Tarrin, because the Zakkites couldn't bring their ships or their Wyverns close enough to threaten him. If they did, he would respond with Sorcery, and rip them apart. They were out of his effective range at the moment. But if they came in range, they wouldn't be around long enough to realize their mistake. "What are they doing?" he asked Sarraya.

  "I think they're either talking to or attacking the mages behind us," Sarraya replied. "Can you bring the ships down?"

  "Not from here," he replied. "They're too far away. And they're not moving towards us anymore."

  "What do you think we should do?"

  "Hide," he replied. "They aren't getting any closer, so let's hide from them and see what they do. If they wander too close, maybe I can pick a couple of them off. I do not want a pair of Zakkite triads chasing after us. Zakkites are way too dangerous."

  "No argument here," Sarraya agreed. "I guess this means that I'm going to have a sore butt tonight."

  "Better a sore butt than fireballs raining down on us from above."

  "Amen," she chuckled as Tarrin set her down, then shapeshifted into his cat form. Sarraya climbed up onto his back and grabbed a couple of handfuls of his fur, and he turned and scampered away, towards the northeast.
But a housecat could not move very fast compared to the size of the animals and constructions chasing him, so the presence of those ships did not change for a good while as he moved away from them, looking back over his shoulder nervously every few moments. The ships did not move, but they weren't getting any further away as he moved away from them.

  The presence of the Zakkites angered him. Why couldn't they just leave him alone! Couldn't he get at least one break? Ever since he had started on this mad quest, everything seemed to be stacked in his way, lined up against him. He'd had to overcome some ridiculous obstacles to get where he was now, and it looked like it wasn't about to get any easier. Now, when things seemed to be going his way, the Zakkites had to show up. Zakkites were a dangerous enemy, even for him. Their command of arcane magic was impressive, and that made them very, very dangerous. They couldn't get close to him or use their magic against him, but he knew from experience that there was often more than one way to go about capturing an objective. He'd used his own magic in some rather creative ways against beings who were immune to it, so he wasn't about to get complacent enough to think that they didn't have something up their sleeves. Zakkites were not fools. They wouldn't just rush all the way inland like this if they didn't have a plan.

  That plan seemed to manifest itself as he fretted over things. Two winged creatures separated themselves from the six ships, and it was obvious that they were moving in his direction. Their size and silhouette against the setting sun made it very apparent that they were not Wyverns. They were very large, taller than him if they stood straight up, with large bird-like wings and vaguely humanoid in form. From the way it looked, both were holding long polearms.

  "What are those?" Sarraya asked as Tarrin stopped and turned around to get a better look at them.

  "I can't tell, my eyes aren't that good in this form," he replied. In cat form, he had excellent night vision and the ability to make out shapes and see motion, but the clarity of his vision was poor. Small features blurred together or were lost. He could easily see a book in the dark, but he couldn't read what was on its pages if it were opened. He could make out the shapes of those creatures moving his way, but any details about them were lost on him. "And if I shapeshift, I'll give our position away."

  "Hunker down, let's see what they do," the Faerie offered.

  "Good idea," he agreed. He laid down on his belly in the tall grass, causing his form to disappear, and then he felt Sarraya use her Druidic magic. The grass around him shuddered, then pulled over him to form a tent of sorts to hide him from those above.

  They waited in quiet tension for long moments, watching them get closer, until the ground shuddered as one of them landed about two hundred spans away. Even at that distance, he couldn't make out a great many features, but it was apparent that they were not even close to being human. They were ten spans tall, and they were strangely birdlike. As if they were crosses between humans and vultures. They had arms and legs, but their heads held a large hooked beak, and they had huge wings on their backs. They had those polearms in their hands, and they stood upon legs with backwards-jointed knees, just like birds. Not only that, they also had vulture feet. They were very ugly, even to his diminished vision.

  He had no idea what they were, at least until the wind changed and caused their scents to wash over him. That made him nearly choke. They smelled as if they were made up of pure, unadulterated corruption and unnatural evil. They were Demons!

  "Demons!" Tarrin hissed in shock. "Why would Demons be working with the Zakkites!"

  "Hush!" Sarraya hissed very quietly, kicking him in the side with her heel to emphasize her command.

  This was insane! Demons couldn't be summoned by mages anymore, not since the Blood War! How did two Demons come to be allied to the Zakkites? Maybe they were the same as Shiika had been, Demons that had somehow made it to Sennadar of their own free will. Shiika had not been summoned or conjured by anyone. She was free-willed, ruling the largest kingdom in the world from behind the scenes. He also had a suspicion that Shiika wasn't quite like other Demons. All the stories painted Demons as utterly evil, sadistic and monstrous. Shiika was no fair maiden, but she didn't seem to have those reputed qualities. She was evil, there was no doubt about that, but she wasn't sadistic. She was manipulative, but she wasn't monstrous. Her evil was more of an underlying quality, something that accented her personality rather than defined it. But he still didn't trust her. After all, she was a Demon. So were these two, and that made them a threat not to take lightly.

  Tarrin's ears laid back as they moved towards them, obviously searching for them, but seemingly unable to locate him. They looked about carefully, moving step by deliberate step towards him, carefully examining the ground. "What's taking you so long!" a disembodied voice emanted from the air between them. "He has to be right there! We saw him lay down in the grass, and he couldn't crawl fast enough to get away by the time you got there!"

  "Patience, human," a horrid voice came from one of them. "He cannot escape."

  "Don't toy with me!" the voice replied hotly. "I can banish you just as easily as I conjured you! Would you like to go back to the Abyss without having your promised payment? Just find him, and remember that we need him alive!"

  Conjure? How could he conjure a Demon? That was impossible! Even if he could conjure a Demon, he couldn't control it if it appeared!

  But that meant little now. They knew where he was, and it was just a matter of time before they reached him. It was going to be a fight no matter what, so the warrior in him realized that it was best to start the fight on his terms rather than their terms. At least they would have to be careful, where he would not. They needed him alive. He wasn't working under such a restriction. It also meant that he had to bring those skyships down, or he'd never be able to get away. They were watching him, no doubt with magic, and he'd never be able to get away from them so long as they could see where he was.

  "Sarraya, get down, carefully," he said in the manner of the Cat. He knew exactly what he had to do. The idea of battling a Demon didn't frighten him as much as it had before. He had the sword, and it could harm a Demon. He had fought one before, and he had won. And these two couldn't fight back with the same fury that he would fight them with. They were simply things, obstacles in his path, and it was his duty to deal with them and move on to the next obstacle. There was very little emotion involved in it anymore. There was very little emotion involving anything anymore. "I'm going to bolt right and get them lined up, then turn on them. If you could do something to distract the one on the left when I change shape, I'd appreciate it. I'd rather not have to fight both at once."

  "Tarrin, are you crazy?" she hissed.

  "Crazy or not, we won't go another step if we don't deal with them right now," he replied as both looked in the direction of Sarraya's tiny, whispered voice. Sarraya slid off of his back, and he tamped his feet to prepare to run. "Three, two, one," he counted silently, then he rose up and charged to the right, in an arc that would try to take him around the two Demons.

  They instantly looked in his direction, but both cursed vehemently when the grass around them shuddered, and then literally came alive, growing from simple tall grass to huge tentacles of green plant fiber in the blink of an eye. Sarraya's Druidic magic had taken hold on the grass, causing it to grow from simple grass to writhing tentacles of vines in a heartbeat, and it lashed out against the Demon on her left like an octopus, ensnaring arms and legs and twining around its thin midsections and wings. Its strength easily broke the snaring vines, but it distracted it for a critical moment as Tarrin managed to get to where the two Demons were lined up before him. He slid to a halt and shapeshifted in an instant, returning to his impressive, intimidating humanoid form, then reached over his shoulder and drew his sword even as he rushed straight at the surprised Demon.

  It did not consider him a threat. It smiled evilly at him and raised its polearm, but not to fend against the sword. It didn't know! It didn't know that his sword could harm
a Demon! It was setting itself to swipe him to the ground regardless of what he intended to do with the sword. It couldn't sense that the sword was otherworldly, that it had the power to injure it!

  Understanding that he'd only get one free shot on the first one, Tarrin ducked down as the distance between it and him vanished, slithering under the polearm's metal shaft as it tried to strike him to the ground with it. The Demon was three spans taller than him, but the sword was nearly six spans of blade on its own, so it gave him all the reach he needed. He ducked under the polearm and got inside the Demon's reach, then he drove the chisel-tip of the sword straight up the Demon's body. It nearly sliced its chest, so close was it to the Demon as it came up, but the chisel tip struck the Demon just under the beak. And the black metal blade of the sword continued, puncturing the weird joint between the end of the beak and the start of the neck, driving up through the beak, through the top of it and all the way up into the brain. Just as quickly as it impaled the brain, Tarrin snapped the blade out and spun around the Demon, hiding the blade behind his body as he charged the one pulling itself free of the vines. The one he'd stabbed was still standing, its body locked in a paralysis of death, unaware that the brain could no longer send it commands. The entwined Demon raised its polearm and tried to stab Tarrin with it when he came into its reach, but the Were-cat leaped up and out of its path, seeming to hover in the air before it. Tarrin's sword came around in a wide, whistling arc, black blood from the first Demon flying off the sword's tip as its edge homed in on the neck of the second, then neatly and quickly taking the ugly head right off its unnatural body.

  Tarrin dropped to the ground easily as both Demon bodies stood stock still, and then started to topple. The first dropped its polearm, then fell over backwards to lay motionless on the grass. The second slumped in its vine prison, held up by the clinging plants, as the head rolled to a stop some spans distant.