by Jeff Gunzel
“I will not.” Her voice was cool, emotionless.
“You will, if I have to drag you there myself!”
“You will do no such thing...lerwick.” Viola froze. It had been a long time since she heard that word, and certainly not since she had arrived here. “Yes, you heard me. I know what you are. But it was only once the spirits began whispering in my ear that I discovered the truth. I suppose it’s only fair that I reveal my true form to you as well.”
Salina spread her hands and looked up to the sky. Her skin seemed to flake away, riding off on the wind like feathers while leaving behind a drastically changed appearance. Golden scales climbed up her neck, reminiscent of a lizard or snake. Her eyes were also gold, and her flowing hair turned dark black. Her age seemed to reverse, years dropping away as her skin tightened, revealing a young, beautiful face.
“What are you?” Viola gasped. “You’ve been lying to me all this time?”
“Lies. Deceit. All of it essential in order to get this close to you.”
“So you are my enemy,” Viola accused, her arms stretching, slowly morphing into blades.
“I am anything but your enemy! I have given up everything to be here with you. I was sent by the spiritists of the north with only one objective: To protect you at all costs.”
“You will change your appearance to blend in with humans, and offer yourself into their tournament. Once there, do not let the girl out of your sight. Until we uncover what her relationship is with the ghatins, and why they so desperately seek her, you will watch her every move and guard her with your life. If anything happens to her, do not come back! Failure is not an option!”
Salina looked up from her kneeling position, eyes hard and determined. “Yes, Moon Mistress,” she said. “On my life, I shall not fail you.”
“I have already sent word to my people,” Salina continued. Her appearance was so different now, yet her voice was exactly the same. “They ride to our aid even as we speak. We just need to hold out a little longer.”
“And why should I trust anything you say?” Viola hissed, her arms still molded into razor-sharp blades.
Salina smiled. A different face, yet that same grin Viola had seen so many times before. “I don’t see that you have any choice.”
A wall of white sprung up from behind. This wave of ghatins seemed to be connected somehow, save for their individual sets of pink eyes. Viola whirled back, her bladed arms slashing straight across the white sheet. The gashed creatures let out a series of harrowing screams, the long slice blackening, continuing to burn even further though the damage had already been done. The wall burst into blue flame as contorted faces twisted and howled. Moments later only ash remained, then it too blew away as if it were lighter than air.
Viola spun back. Salina’s golden eyes were wide open, staring, unable to comprehend what she had just seen. Viola could hurt them?
“You have to get out of here!” Viola said, her head whipping around, leery of where the next strike might be coming from. “It’s not safe. It’s me they’re after, not you. Whoever you are, don’t get caught up in this.”
“Oh my dear, sweet Viola,” Salina said, holding up the palm of her hand. “ As ever, you put others before yourself. But I already told, I will not leave your side. I swore to protect and watch over you, and that is exactly what I intend to do. Besides—” A frosty white sphere materialized in her hand. Ghostly in appearance, there looked to be small white beings swimming around inside. They resembled tadpoles with large heads and long tails. “We spiritists are not as helpless as you think.”
She threw the sphere, smashing it against the ground. Twirling white steam rose from the spot. Faster and faster it spun, growing higher and wider like a dust devil spinning out of control. Pale faces with hollowed black eyes swirled within, each bearing mouths full of pointed teeth. The tornado of spirits moved of its own mind, spinning towards any ghatins who sprung up from the ground. The funnel spinning with ghostly apparitions knifed right through them, ripping and tearing, turning them all to dust. But as always, the dust began to reassemble itself almost immediately.
Viola turned and streaked towards the center of the pit, waves of white drifting beneath her feet. It was like running across the ocean with waves rising and falling all around. “The humans have done nothing to you!” she shrieked, her hissing voice filling every corner of the pit. “If it is me you have come for, then so be it! But I promise you this—” Her arm flashed out, her bladed hand taking another ghatin right beneath his jaw. With no time to react or scream, its head burst into blue flame. “For every human fallen this day, I will kill ten of you! You want me? Come and get me!”
Four more splashed up from the ground, their ghostly flesh blades stabbing wildly. But when Viola crossed her own, intercepting three at once, they burst into blue flames as if her very touch were somehow poisonous. But the fourth got through, stabbing her right through the shoulder. Viola cried out, swiping it away with a quick slash. It shattered on impact, chips of flaming blue scattering across the sand. Apparently a direct hit could indeed hurt her. She hadn’t known that until now.
Viola dropped to one knee, clutching the wound as blood seeped between her fingers. Her shoulder throbbed, but she could not afford to let it be a distraction. Growing bolder, smelling blood like rabid wolves, more began to pop up all around her. Releasing her shoulder, she swept out her arm, slashing three more across their bellies. They drifted back like kites, their bodies instantly consumed by blue flames.
Sensing danger, she dove into a forward roll as white blades passed over her head. Ignoring her blazing shoulder, she turned and slashed. Two more ghatins squealed like dying pigs, their necks erupting in flame. She tried to roll again but her feet held fast, ensnared by pale hands reaching up from the sand. They were closing in from all sides now, trying to take her down while she was at her most vulnerable.
She sent one flesh blade straight down into the sand. There came a shriek, one foot coming free after a blue flash. One foot still trapped, she slashed about wildly in a desperate attempt to take out as many as she could before falling to the relentless onslaught.
Suddenly, a blur flashed before her face. In its wake lay several ghatins, each bursting into blue flames before even hitting the sand. The blur halted several feet away, long white hair running down the figure’s back. Facing away, Jarlen hugged himself across the chest and began to spin. His body seemed to rip apart, bursting into a funnel of black birds that twisted back the other direction.
The funnel passed right through several more ghatins, each individual bird pecking and clawing savagely. The ghatins’ bodies ripped open, each tiny wound spraying blue flame like a geyser. When the squawking funnel melted back into form, Jarlen stood face to face with Viola.
“You?” she growled, clutching her shoulder. Blood continued to seep from the deep wound, her legs unsteady as she glared. There was murder in those eyes. “How dare you show your face to me?”
He stepped back, throwing his hands up. “I can only imagine how strange this chance meeting must seem. I know what you’re thinking.”
“Your frozen heart is as black as night,” she hissed. “A worm has more compassion, more decency than you. Don’t you dare to assume you could possibly know what I am thinking.” His arm snapped out, its blade streaking towards her face. She could barely react as it zipped past her ear. There came a shriek from behind, followed by an intense heat. The ghatin looming over her crumbled to ash, the pain etched in his contorted features still evident on his blackened face.
“I dare not ask for forgiveness,” he said calmly.
“Nor would you receive it!”
He nodded his understanding. “This day we share a common enemy. Let us work together to vanquish that enemy, just this once. I implore you, do not turn down my help for the sake of foolish pride. You hate me now, and rightfully so. And when the battle is over, I imagine nothing will have changed. But for now—” He streaked towards her once more
, slashing down another ghatin that was coming up from the side. Viola’s rage had made her careless, and that was twice now he had saved her. He moved behind her so they were back to back. “We must work together to accomplish a common goal. If you wish, you may still view me as your enemy after that.”
“You are my enemy now,” she hissed, turning her head slightly. “But if you insist on being my shield, I will not stop you. If I’m lucky, the ghatins will finish you off for me!” Her words chilled him to the bone. Cold and calloused, she had become unrecognizable to him. The person standing behind him was not his sister.
*
Her hair snapping back in the icy breeze, Bella clung to Rishima, arms wrapped tightly around her waist. Soaring through the air on the back of this most graceful creature, Bella had never felt so free, so alive. But when she glanced at the other spiritists riding nearby, they wore expressions of concern and determination. She couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. She really shouldn’t be enjoying this so much. Many appeared to be mumbling to themselves, or perhaps conversing with something unseen. Bella couldn’t be sure which. There was certainly a number of mysteries surrounding these spiritists.
Rishima glanced back over her shoulder. “Your city is under attack,” she said. Bella had no idea how she could possibly know that, but she had also learned not to doubt her.
“It is no longer my city,” Bella retorted.
“But they are still your people, are they not?” Rishima shot back, unable to mask the irritation in her voice.
“Yes, of course they are,” Bella answered quietly.
“We must hurry. We will do what we can to aid the people of Shadowfen, but our objective remains the same. The girl’s safety takes top priority.” A short time later the city came into view. Clouds of dust coiled up from multiple locations. They could see rapid blurs of movement, like ants swarming an enemy nest. Something was definitely happening, and it didn’t look good.
Rishima began flicking her fingers, signaling instructions as they drew closer. From this range they could see it clearly now: Pale, shapeless men invading from everywhere, but most appeared to be striking up from beneath the ground. “Hold on,” Rishima said, her empty hand extending out to her side. In her palm appeared a misty white ball that looked to have living things swimming around inside. Glancing at the other riders, Bella could see they were also holding these white globes. In sets of five, the riders began breaking formation, their screeching mounts sending warnings from the sky above.
The spiritists had arrived, and were ready to enter the field of battle.
*
Orange crystals ejected from Owen’s crossbows, their mechanisms overheating from too much use. Chest rising and falling with labored breaths, the hunter was beginning to fatigue. It wasn’t just about taking on so many enemies at once, it was that their deaths were merely temporary inconveniences. Watching them regenerate right before his eyes, there was no way to know how many times he had already killed the same ones. He could see Xavier a short ways away, his twirling blades dancing with fury, a whirlwind of steel. But he too was beginning to slow. How many people had made it inside the city walls? Did it even matter? Was there really anywhere to hide?
Owen looked up, movement in the sky catching his attention. His heart sank. More flying beasts were approaching from the north. The rout was on. There was no way they could withstand a second wave. But something was different this time. These weren’t the same beasts as before. These were giant black ravens, each bearing a rider on its back. They looked organized, clearly flying in specific formations. Unable to do anything, he braced, not sure what to expect.
As they flew overhead, several riders dropped white globes onto the ground. They shattered like glass before rising up into funnels of whirling mist. Skeletal faces with long tails spun within those swirls of mist, their blackened eyes seeming to pick out targets before whirling straight for them. They were zeroing in on the ghatins! These living tornadoes began to decimate the landscape, shredding and swallowing every ghatin in their path. Of course the creatures began to reform again, but the attacks were so efficient, covering so much ground at once, that it almost didn’t matter. Their path of destruction was actually outpacing the rate at which the ghatins could regenerate.
“The gods be praised,” Owen muttered to himself, dropping down to one knee. He was exhausted. With the ghatins pinned down, at least for now, more people rose off the ground and continued running down the hill towards the city. The dead were everywhere, and not a single person even checked on any of the corpses.
Xavier raced up to Owen, his body banged up with spots of blood here and there. But none of his injuries appeared too severe. Breathing heavily, he stood before his master in silence. His eyes were clear, focused. He would do his duty, follow any command his master gave. That was his promise. That was his sworn oath.
“Go to her,” Owen said. “You’ve done your duty, now go satisfy your heart. She needs you.” Xavier nodded. But when he turned to run off, Owen snatched him by the arm. “I’ve never been more proud of you, lad,” Owen added, then released him. With that, the apprentice ran off, charging back up the hill with renewed vigor.
*
Unable to leave his protected box surrounded by soldiers, King Milo watched on in horror. It was all just a blur of chaos. Surrounded by violence no matter which way he turned, there was simply nowhere to run. His current champion appeared to be holding her own, and had now been joined by his former champion. It was hard to believe this was happening. And now these black ravens had showed up, each bearing riders on their backs. What was going on?
Salina waved, signaling to her brothers and sisters as they circled high above. Both Jarlen and Viola fought valiantly, adding to the slew of black ash already staining the sand as they fought back to back. The ghatins had grown tentative, no longer willing to rush at these two who had proved they could permanently kill them. Still, fatigue was becoming a factor.
“If we survive this, I will have you next,” Viola growled, her back pressed up against her brother’s. “Mark my words.” She felt nothing for him, even if he had come all the way back to the city to help her.
“If that is your wish,” he said, eyes on the white lumps shifting back and forth in front of him, waiting to see which would commit next.
“It is my wish, my desire. Your fate is sealed!”
Rows of ravens streaked overhead, white globes falling and exploding just beneath them. Spirit funnels formed and began seeking prey as they whipped along the sand. They cleared a substantial number of ghatins in a short period of time, giving Jarlen and Viola a chance to lower their guard and breathe. Their arms tingled, chests quivering from constant exertion.
King Milo looked up, a black raven swooping in. Unlike the others, it had two riders and seemed to be heading right for him. “No,” he whispered in disbelief. Face streaked with paint, there was his estranged wife, riding on the back of this giant bird! Time froze as their eyes met. He couldn’t even move, held hostage by her gaze. How could she still be alive? And here, with an army at her back? She grinned, soaring straight towards him. Steel flashed in her hand. Pulled from behind, the king fell straight back. Her blade passed his neck, the tip just grazing his skin.
Falling back onto a soldier, the king groped at his own neck. His fingers were spotted red, but the cut was not deep. “Back to the city!” he ordered, scrambling to get back to his feet. Whatever these beings were, they had cleared a path through the ghatins, so a quick escape might be possible now.
Giant ravens landed around the pit, their riders watching Viola curiously. So this was the girl they had come to get. Salina rushed towards one of them and leaped up, doubling onto the back of his raven. “Viola!” she called, reaching out her hand. Viola watched her but didn’t move. “I know you believe I have deceived you, but I swear to you there was no other way. All my manipulations were for the greater good, to get us to this point. Your safety was the only thing that drove me,
and in that task I have succeeded. I understand I must now find a way to regain your trust. Well, that journey starts today! Please, trust your heart if not my words. I beg you!” She kept her hand held out, a pleading look in her eyes.
“Viola!” came a shout from above. Viola looked up to see Xavier standing near Liam and Assirra, waving his arms wildly to get her attention. She stepped towards him, raising a hand to her heart. I’m sorry, she mouthed silently, then turned back and raced towards the raven, leaping up behind Salina. “No!” she heard him cry out, but refused to look back. She could not look upon his face at that moment. The birds took flight, joining those that were already circling up above. Seconds later, the entire fleet was heading back north.
With their target gone, the remaining ghatins melted back down into the ground and streaked away. Viola had proved to be more powerful than they could have imagined. They needed to regroup. This was not going to be as easy as they once thought. Not only had she proved she was able to kill them, but there was apparently more than one of these creatures. Troubling indeed...
Liam put his hand on Xavier’s shoulder, about to offer words of comfort, before he pulled away and went sprinting towards the horses nearby. “Xavier!” Liam called. He watched helplessly as Xavier mounted a horse and galloped away, giving chase to the ravens, who were almost completely out of sight by this time.
“Don’t waste your breath, Liam,” said Owen, limping up from behind. His wounds were superficial, but there were many of them. “You saw that look in the boy’s eyes. The gods themselves won’t be able to stop him.”
Liam sighed as he watched the coil of rising dust trailing behind Xavier’s horse. “May the gods smile upon you, lad,” he whispered. “Falling in love can be a blessing or a curse. I dare not venture a guess as to which this shall prove to be.”
