When Talinir took a single step into one of the tunnels, he felt an odd vibration and immediate weakness. He stepped back out and the feeling subsided. Curious.
All this Talinir had scouted out in the first few minutes after his arrival. Marshal would be coming from the west, so it made sense he should set out down that road to meet him. But he hesitated.
On the other side, Janaab still sat near the portal, as if waiting. If he went in search of Marshal, Talinir would abandon the old man to whatever fate came his way. He found himself reluctant to do that.
He could at least be waiting for Marshal when he arrived via the western road. Talinir descended the stairs from the east platform and paused at the pillar. The limestone, subject to the sometimes-harsh weather here, was pitted and crumbling. Talinir could just make out a few letters carved into the surface at eye level. No one would ever be able to tell what had been written there.
He moved on and examined the tunnel again. He did not relish experiencing that odd weakness. In an archway over the tunnel’s entrance, he could discern a few letters. Only one word remained: “come.” A greeting or a warning?
In that moment, he heard yells and cries of panic coming from somewhere beyond the tunnel.
Topleb’s spear passed right in front of Dravid’s face and struck a curse-stalker in its mouth. The creature reared back and collapsed, waving its arms futilely at the spear protruding from its mouth. Two more took its place.
At least a dozen of the monsters attacked the party from both sides. Dravid looked about, registering everything as fast as his mind could process it. He and the three soldiers here at the front of the group were being split off from the others. Forerunner and Calu looked unconcerned in the center, both of them now wielding swords of fire. Beyond them, Dravid could barely make out the others. He couldn’t see Seri.
“Fall back to those trees!” Marshal yelled, pointing to the right side of the road. “We can make more of a defense with them at our backs! Dravid! One of your shields would help!”
Dravid nodded. Beside him, Rufus stabbed down into the head of a smaller curse-stalker that ran up behind them. Dravid scrambled around it in the direction Marshal had suggested, but kept his hand moving, conjuring up the largest magic shield he could handle. For the first time, he seriously regretted not taking Ixchel up on her offer to train him in self-defense.
Just in time, he lifted his new shield and blocked two of the disgusting tongues that shot out from a nearby creature’s mouth. The tongues sizzled where they struck his shield. Rufus did the same with his shield.
Marshal unleashed a wave of power and blew three monsters out of their way as he, Topleb, Rufus, and Dravid reached the trees.
“Can’t you just take them all out that way?” Topleb asked.
“Too much confusion! I might hit one of our friends!”
More of the curse-stalkers poured out of the jungle from both sides. The road became chaotic everywhere they looked. Marshal wielded both his sword and his power with deadly effect. Rufus and Topleb stood to either side of him, doing their best. Dravid stood behind all three, moving his shield where it was most needed. Everywhere he looked, he saw claws, teeth, tongues.
“There’s too many!” Rufus yelled. “They’re pushing us back into the jungle!”
Victor slung his flail, tripping a curse-stalker and flipping it onto its back. He stabbed down through its neck with his sword.
Beside him, Ixchel killed another of the beasts. The fluidity of her movements continued to amaze him. When the magic and rage overtook him, he knew his own movements became faster and smoother. But Ixchel seemed to possess that ability innately. Or, he reflected, she had been trained for years. He only had a few months with Talinir.
“Press the attack!” Ixchel cried. “We must drive them back!” She placed one foot on the dead curse-stalker and vaulted over it toward the next two just emerging from the jungle.
Victor followed, but took a quick look around. All of their gear lay in haphazard piles across the road. They would have to come back for it later. Seri came right beside him. She held her hands in the air, no doubt using magic to protect herself should any of the creatures get past him or Ixchel. He saw Forerunner and Wolf fighting with flaming swords. Where did they get those? Beyond them, it looked like Marshal and the others were being pushed back into the jungle the opposite direction.
He opened his mouth to tell Ixchel, but she was already at the tree line. He glanced at Seri and rushed to catch up.
A curse-stalker slammed against his shield and Dravid lost his balance. He fell back into a tangle of vines that covered the jungle floor here. The curse-stalker tried to bite at his glowing disc. Dravid yanked it up; the edge of the disc sliced through the monster’s upper jaw, severing it cleanly. As blood ran down both sides of his shield, the creature fell back, screaming with a harsh nasal tone.
“Nicely done!” Topleb gave him a hand getting up.
Marshal put his hand on the trunk of a tree. Almost immediately, it shattered and the tree toppled. It landed on one curse-stalker, pinning it to the ground. But three more scrambled over it.
Moving into the jungle gave the warriors more options, but the curse-stalkers seemed to move just as fast through the undergrowth as they did on the road. Dravid wasn’t sure Marshal had made the best call.
Slithering tongues like burning ropes shot through the air at them from two sides. Rufus cried out as one of them brushed his shoulder. Dravid tried to cut through a pair of them with his shield, but Marshal beat him to it with his warpsteel blade.
Chaos reigned over all. Dravid struggled to stay upright, keep hold of his crutch and magical shield, and help out in any way he could. The strain of keeping a magical object intact for so long soon made its effects known. The heat inside began to build up, rivaling the stifling heat outside.
Then came a moment when the curse-stalkers backed off. Everyone caught their breath, but held ready. It didn’t last long.
“Is anyone else near us?” Marshal yelled.
“I don’t see anyone!” Rufus answered. Topleb and Dravid added their assent.
“Everyone next to me! I’m going to blast in all directions!”
Dravid joined the other two in moving as close to Marshal as comfort allowed. The curse-stalkers lunged forward and tongues began to extend.
A wave of power erupted outward. Dravid felt the vibrations of it throughout his body. He could no longer maintain his shield and it slipped away. Around them, Marshal’s power shredded the jungle, hurling curse-stalkers away, shattering bones and teeth.
In a moment, it was over. Nothing living remained in a twenty-foot circle around the four men. The devastation looked utterly complete.
Dravid swung around on his crutch to compliment Marshal. But the words died in his throat when he saw the other young man’s face. Marshal put a hand to his side. It came away covered in blood.
Kishin moved through the jungle like a silent wraith. With one hand, he swung the staff. With the other, he wielded the warpsteel sword. Already, he had killed seven curse-stalkers.
Despite the earlier discussion about how many of the party would be attracting the creatures, Kishin could not imagine this attack had occurred naturally. Something or someone else had stirred the curse-stalkers up, doing something to make them rush out in such large numbers.
His first inclination was to follow Ixchel. But he soon saw how well she could handle herself. And the young man that fought by her side, Victor, fought with a fervor he had not possessed the last time Kishin met him. Interesting.
And so Kishin gravitated toward Marshal, in case he needed protection. He noted briefly that the two unusual ones, Forerunner and his companion, moved on down the road, having escaped from the battle.
Marshal and the three men around him had moved off the opposite side of the road and into the jungle itself. Kishin followed, passing dead curse-stalkers and broken trees. In only a few moments, he could see the others ahead of him, s
till fighting.
An ominous growl stopped him. Kishin turned and found himself facing the largest curse-stalker he had ever seen, at least ten feet long. Kishin smiled. At least he could keep this one away from Marshal and his friends.
The creature eyed him, as if unsure about this one. After all, Kishin radiated no magic. No curse. But still… the curse-stalker hungered for more than just magic. Fresh meat would help as well.
Kishin feinted a stab to make it flinch, but the old curse-stalker was too experienced to fall for that. Instead, it advanced step by step, keeping its eyes fixed on its prey. Unlike its smaller brethren, its legs were long enough to keep its body well above the ground. That meant if it ever pounced, it could achieve a greater height, making it difficult to avoid. And if it landed on him, Kishin had little doubt that would be the end.
He thrust the staff forward, letting his hand slide down its length to extend it as far as he could. Unable to avoid it, the curse-stalker snapped its massive jaws at the staff. Kishin pushed the staff’s end down into the creature’s lower jaw and vaulted into the air. He returned with sword blade down, stabbing.
His intention had been to stab straight through the curse-stalkers skull. But the wily beast thrashed to the side and Kishin’s sword caught it in the shoulder instead. He lost his grip on the staff and put his weight into the sword’s thrust, twisting as he did.
The curse-stalker whipped its head back. The left corner of its jaw caught Kishin in the calf and flipped him. He yanked the sword back as he fell.
Massive jaws opened and lifted, intending to come down on top of him. Kishin stared up into the maw.
At that moment, an enormous burst of power erupted from Marshal’s direction. The blast caught both Kishin and the curse-stalker and sent them flying and tumbling away. Kishin struck his head against a tree, whipped around and fell face down. His consciousness fled.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX
TALINIR COULD NOT bring himself to enter the tunnel. In addition to the strange effects, to do so would take him too far out of view from Janaab in the Otherworld. The cries he heard had subsided, but he knew he heard the ring of weaponry in action. He hesitated. Then he scrambled up out of the tunnel’s entrance. Stone walls separated the road and platforms from the surrounding jungle. He vaulted up onto one of the walls and tried to see beyond the nearest trees and down the hill.
Nothing came into view, but then he heard footsteps coming through the tunnel itself.
Talinir dropped back onto the road and drew his sword. “Marshal?” he called.
Two very unusual travelers stepped out of the tunnel. Both appeared relieved to be leaving it behind. One towered over the other, rippling with muscles and a cascade of multi-colored hair that fell down his back. The other, dressed in the most outlandish clothes, spied Talinir immediately and lifted his hands in greeting. His face split into a huge smile as if he had just found a long-lost friend.
“An Eldani warden! How delightful to see you!” He rushed forward. Ignoring Talinir’s sword, he grasped his other arm. “Why, you must be Talinir! They’ve spoken very highly of you, you know.”
“Who?”
“Ah, you have lost much, but have already regained quite a bit!” the strange man plunged on. “Yet still you are not whole. I am Forerunner, and I am here to restore what is lost.”
“Let’s move on, Forerunner,” the larger man growled.
“One moment, Calu. This is why I am here, after all.” He looked up into Talinir’s eyes. “You seek two young men. They are very close. On either side of the road, down below here. I cannot tell you which way to go, or whether they will come here to you. That is your decision.” He paused and cocked his head.
“Who are you?” Talinir asked. The man’s rapid-fire speaking left him little time to process the actual words. In addition, he felt sure magic vibrated through every syllable.
“I just told you that. I am Forerunner. And I see that you have lost more than you have admitted to anyone in some time. How sad. If I had the time…”
“Forerunner, he is Eldanim. Not human. He is not your task.” The big man pushed past him and continued toward the high place. Talinir looked after him. Something about the stranger reminded him of the third race in the Starlit Realm. Could he be?
Forerunner sighed. “Regretfully, I must admit that he is correct. I must escort him now.” He turned to go, but paused long enough to gesture back down the hill and tunnel. “Left or right. Your choice.”
Victor’s first battle had been against a curse-stalker, when it came for Marshal. In that battle, he had been almost ineffectual. As he stabbed another one through its jaw, he marveled at how far he had come since then. So many battles, so many lessons.
And swords were much more effective against these things than flails. Aelia had been quite right about that. Plus magic. Magic helped.
“We’re getting pretty far from the road!” Seri said. “Shouldn’t we turn back?”
Victor glanced back at her. “Look out!” she screamed, throwing her hands up. Victor spun back to see an enormous mouth full of teeth coming straight at his face. He felt vibrations passing by his ears, and the curse-stalker behaved as though its face had struck a solid wall. It flipped underneath the impact point, slamming into Victor and throwing him back.
Ixchel stabbed down into the creature’s exposed underbelly. As it thrashed its last, Victor scrambled to his feet. Had they killed all of them?
Ixchel pulled her short sword free. “I do not see any more near us,” she observed.
“I think you’re right. That was some fantastic fighting on your part.”
“You were not ineffective yourself.”
Did Seri roll her eyes? “Thank you,” Victor told her.
“You’re welcome. It wasn’t easy throwing the power past your head on either side.”
“Are you saying I have a big head?”
Seri giggled. This time, Ixchel rolled her eyes. Victor smiled.
The magic that kept him moving started to subside. He could feel the vibrations in his hands slowing. But it was still enough to save him in the next moment, giving his reflexes the startling speed he needed to dodge out of the way of a sword that seemed to come out of nowhere.
Victor spun back into a defensive stance, flail hanging from his extended left arm, sword ready in the other. Ixchel stood to his left, shield and short sword at ready.
Before them stood the fear that had haunted Victor’s dreams for months, though he never admitted it: the leper assassin.
Marshal stared at the blood on his hand in shock. An instant later, the pain hit him. He knew this pain. Like the time the assassin stabbed him. He almost died that time. This time… The pain grew. Maybe he would die from this one, after all.
“I guess the protection spell finally wore off.” It was a stupid thing to say, but it was the first thought that came to mind.
Topleb grabbed Rufus and spun him around. “What have you done?” Topleb screamed.
Only then did Marshal notice the dagger Rufus held in his left hand. It looked very familiar.
“Where did you get that?” he asked. Again, a stupid thing to say. But his brain didn’t seem able to handle more than one thing at a time. Volraag gave him that dagger so long ago. Rufus must have taken it. And hadn’t he been holding a shield in that hand? When did he drop it?
“I didn’t have a choice!” Rufus yelled at Topleb. “He made me do it! He—Aiiieeee!!!” Rufus broke Topleb’s grip and grabbed at his own head, still holding the bloody dagger. “The pain! Ahhh! What is it?”
“It’s the curse,” Dravid said, his face pale. “Marshal, are you all right?” He took a hesitant step toward him.
Marshal put his hand back over the stab wound and tried to put pressure on it. Stop the bleeding. That’s what mattered.
“He was your only hope!” Topleb berated Rufus. “Why? What is wrong with you?”
Rufus staggered, gritting his teeth in anguish.
Dravid
tried to look at Marshal’s wound. “I think… if we can get him to Forerunner or Calu… he might be all right.”
That seemed right. But keep the pressure on.
“No!” Rufus screamed. “He has to die! He has to!” He lunged forward.
Topleb intervened. “Stop it! You madman! Put it down!”
The two soldiers struggled. “Don’t,” Marshal said. He took a step toward them and almost lost his balance. Dravid caught him by the arm.
“Put… it… d—” Topleb gasped suddenly. He let go of Rufus and staggered back.
“Topleb?” Marshal asked. Then he saw the dagger in his friend’s chest.
“No,” Rufus said. “I didn’t mean to.” He took a step back himself. His eyes widened and his mouth fell open in a silent scream. He clapped both bloody hands to his head. Marshal couldn’t be sure, but it looked like blood also poured from his nose and ears. The scream became audible at last, a horrible, wet, gut-wrenching sound that gurgled to an abrupt halt. Rufus collapsed and rolled on the ground, whimpering and holding his head.
Dravid helped Marshal lean against the remains of a tree and then tried to catch Topleb. But the Ch’olan warrior was too big and only dragged Dravid down with him. He fell to his knees and Dravid rolled onto the ground next to him.
“Topleb,” Marshal whispered. “Not you.”
Topleb looked up and met Marshal’s eyes as Dravid scrambled back up next to him. “You b-brought me home, Marshal,” he said, his words interspersed with gasps. “Thank y-you.”
Until All Bonds Are Broken Page 37
