Ivy gave a stiff nod to the man who had helped her and turned her eyes to the fort. More creatures were pouring out. Most were ungainly beings meant for the sea, but some had the speed and size to threaten the retreating carriage. Then she turned her eyes to the carriage itself. The second wolf had one or two scores from the swords of guards running along its sides, but it had successfully pushed past them and was thundering toward the carriage. She gritted her teeth and sprang to her feet. The second group of three guards, these the personal guard of the ambassador, peeled off and turned to face the threat. Their bows were at the ready, and they let the arrows fly. Two missed their target, but one arrow drove itself deep into the chest of the charging wolf, splitting its rocky hide and eliciting a shriek of pain. Despite the successful attack, the mindless hunter did not slow or falter. It simply lowered its head and bashed through the cluster of men, upsetting two of them from their horses.
One man was lucky, dropping straight to the ground. The other was sent sliding toward the edge. Ivy streaked toward him, her long, bounding strides carrying her like a blur across the strip of an island. She slid to a stop and dug the claws of one hand into the icy stone while she reached out with the other to catch the wrist of the slipping guard. His momentum, and the weight of his armor, dragged the pair of them off the side, but Ivy just barely managed to keep a grip on the edge. They dangled against the blunt face of the sloughed-off wall of slate. She scrambled with her feet until she found firm footholds, then grunted with effort to lift the ailing man. The other two Tresson guards appeared at the edge. They dropped to their bellies, reaching for their countryman. They didn’t so much as look at Ivy, far more concerned for their squadmate than her. That was just as well. She could take care of herself, that much she knew. It was the man who needed help. He might be hurt.
When they had hauled him to safety, she pulled herself up and assessed the situation. The carriage was a third of the way along the lengthy strip of land, with a great distance to cover before it even reached the next bridge. The wolf was clear of any of the guards, but the accumulated injuries had slowed it enough that it was struggling to keep pace with the carriage. Behind them, the next wave of the resurrected monstrosities was seconds away from reaching them.
“All of you, do not stand and fight! Get to the carriage and stay close, defend it!” she barked. “Just move! We’ll worry about these things later!”
The soldiers mounted up, some with help, and rode out just as some spindly-legged creatures Demont must have based on elk began to clatter across toward them. Ivy ran. Her breath was heaving, her heart was pounding in her ears, and the blood was like fire in her veins. The intensity of the moment had set her mind alight, driving her forward faster than even the guards’ horses. In just a few seconds she was closing in on the wolf. Despite its ailing gait, it had nearly closed the gap between it and the carriage. It took only a few moments to realize that this was due to the carriage itself beginning to slow. Ivy set her eyes on the wolf ahead and poured all of her strength into getting closer. When she’d matched its speed and was just a stride or two behind, she finally put what little mind she could spare to the puzzle of somehow striking it down. She had no weapon but her claws and teeth, neither if which would make so much as a scratch in the thing’s hide.
A single idea, not wise by any means, asserted itself. For lack of other options, she put the plan into effect. She lengthened her stride, bounding from foot to foot, before finally extending it into a leap. Her intended target had been the monster’s head, but she fell short, driving both heels square into the prickly nest of quills between the thing’s shoulder blades. One or two of the needlelike barbs slashed through her boots, but the blow did its job. The wolf faltered, stumbling and slipping. Ivy tumbled forward, rolling a bit before recovering. Distantly her mind complained of stabbing pain in the soles of her feet, but she brushed the information aside, focusing instead on the carriage ahead of her. Her legs were beginning to give out, but she pushed herself and just barely managed to catch the flapping door of the carriage and pull herself inside.
Once within, she was met by the point of Celeste’s sword. He held it just a whisper from her throat. Ivy kept still and looked about. Both Krettis and her aide were unhurt but recoiled in fear. It was not unjustified. Without the rush of battle to continue to seize her mind, realization began to dawn about how she must look. Her lips were peeled back, teeth gleaming. The quills of the wolves had met their mark more than once, tearing her clothes and staining cloth and fur with blood in more than one place. She was far closer to a change than she’d allowed herself to realize.
Ivy licked her lips and swallowed hard, gently pushing the blade aside. “I’m fine… I’m fine… Why are we slowing?” she said, collapsing into the seat beside Krettis.
The ambassador seemed as though she was on the verge of diving out the opposite door rather than share a space with the malthrope.
Celeste sheathed his sword. “Carriages and horses like this aren’t meant for speed at the best of times, and we’ve pushed them hard to get here as quickly as we did. They haven’t got the stamina to keep even this pace.”
Ivy twisted aside and pushed the door open again to peer behind them. The half-dozen guards had caught up and were keeping pace, but easily a hundred twisted forms had belched out of the fort’s demolished entrance, and if this fort was anything like Demont’s others, then there would be hundreds more before the flow stopped.
“We’ve got to get to safety, and we’ve got to do something to slow or stop those things,” Ivy said. She shut her eyes and took a steadying breath. “I… I might be able to help us pick up the pace. You’ve got to figure out something to do about the D’Karon creatures.”
“What could you possibly do to help us maintain speed?” Krettis said, finally finding her tongue. “Do you intend to get out and push?”
“Where is my case?” Ivy asked, ignoring the ambassador. “Ah, here!”
She pulled open a sturdy wooden case and revealed an elegantly crafted violin. Her hands were still shaking as she applied rosin to the bow.
“A violin? What good will that do?”
“Plenty, if I do it right.” She put the violin to her chin. “Can either of you keep a beat? That’ll help. If you can sing, that’ll help more.”
“I… I can try,” remarked Marraata.
“Good,” Ivy said. She thumped her boot on the floor, tapping out a fast rhythm until the aid matched it. “Fine, that’s fine. Mr. Celeste, make sure the guards stay close. It’ll be easier if they’re close. And if we need to go faster, tell her to speed up the rhythm. Let’s begin.”
Ivy put the bow to the strings, drawing out a fast and lively tune. At first it was shaky and sloppy, but as her mind soothed and the music gripped her, the tune became sharp, precise, and spirited. Her fingers danced across the strings, and the anxiety and fatigue drained from her expression. Then came the glow. A deep, golden aura that spread from her like the rising sun. Streamers of it looped and twisted in the air, weaving around the passengers and swirling out of the carriage. Ivy grinned as she felt the scrapes and gouges begin to ease away. Music never failed to stir a joy within her, and joy never failed to ease the pain and revitalize the bodies of the people around her.
#
Celeste watched the aura spread from Ivy and leaned aside to see thin wisps of it begin to coil toward the horses ahead and behind. Her song became louder, stronger, and the strength of the aura grew. There was no questioning the effect. The horses ran harder, both those ahead and those behind. Fatigue melted away and spirits lifted. They soon matched their earlier speed, and not long after began to move even more quickly. It was a mercy that the island was so straight, because at their present speed, navigating a turn with such a thick crust of ice would mean a sure skid into the sea.
He gazed back at the charge of beasts. Some of the smaller ones were keeping up, and if the carriage flagged again, the things would be upon them, but that didn’t
concern him. They could easily be dispatched with a few sharp swipes of a blade. What concerned him was a lumbering behemoth that had just pulled itself from the doorway. It was easily the size of the carriage itself. If he were to venture a description of the thing, he would have compared it to a crab crafted from the slag and debris from a blacksmith’s forge. It was rust-brown and mottled, here and there gleaming in the light. Four stout legs, each armored with a thick jagged carapace, scuttled along at a width that might just fit the bridge ahead. Its motions were slow and lumbering, suggesting it was massively heavy, but the length of its legs and their sweep meant that it still covered a great deal of ground with each stride. The body, larger than that of a pair of horses, hung low to the ground. Getting past the armored legs to attack the thing would be difficult. Black orbs atop stalks must have been its eyes, but in place of a mouth it had only a group of slits that vented all-too-familiar black plumes of burning miasma. They had six guards, himself, and Ivy. They might be able to defeat the beast when it reached them, but not without losses… and if any of those losses were Tresson, that would be ruinous for the already ill-fated diplomatic tour. It would need to be stopped before that could happen.
“We need to go a bit faster,” Celeste said.
Marraata nodded and thumped her boot a bit more quickly. Ivy grinned, lost in the music, and sped her tempo to match. The thrill of the challenge and the spirit of the music intensified, and with it grew the strength of the aura. Their speed increased. It wasn’t much—the horses were probably running as hard as they could—but it was enough to be sure they wouldn’t be reached by the forward edge of the creeping mob before they hit the mainland. He looked ahead and saw the edge of the strip island and its narrow bridge rapidly approaching. An idea came to mind. One of the pointless luxuries that had been included in the carriage to make the journey more comfortable for the delegation was a pair of oil lanterns to light the interior. A small cask of lamp oil was strapped to the roof to store enough to refill them each morning. He hung himself out the door and grasped the edge of the roof. The oil cask was just beyond the edge of the roof, tied down with heavy twine. He tugged out the knot and pulled both the cask and the twine inside, thumping them down on the floor of the carriage.
“What do you intend to do?” Krettis asked.
“I intend to destroy the bridge,” he said.
He pulled the nearest lamp from its mounting in the carriage and, using the twine, lashed it to the cask. Once the still burning lamp was securely fastened, Celeste leaned out the door to address the others.
“Driver. Ease up slightly and let the guards pass before the bridge! Guards, stay ahead and do not slow until the mainland!”
Their driver tugged hard on the reins. Invigorated as they were by Ivy’s influence, it was no simple task to coax the horses into slowing. The open doors of the carriage flapped roughly, doing little to muffle the thundering din of the charging horses on either side. A peculiar look of manic exhilaration was painted across Marraata’s face. There was the sense that she wanted badly to cover her ears, shut her eyes, and huddle in terror, but Ivy’s contagious joy and her own task to keep its beat molded the fear into something akin to excitement. She faithfully pounded her boot, fueling the upbeat tune that in turn fueled their escape.
The last of the guards squeezed by the carriage with barely moments to spare. No sooner had the final horse slipped into the lead than the hollow thump of hooves on wood replaced the crackle of hooves on icy stone. Celeste held tight to the door frame of the carriage and lifted the cask of oil. The upright struts supporting one end of the bridge whipped by, one catching the door opposite Celeste and shattering it. He shoved his own door open and lobbed the oil cask into the air. It struck the bridge behind them, tumbling and spilling its contents. The lit lamp ignited the splashing oil, bathing the planks of the bridge in flame.
His job done, he ducked back inside and held his door shut, lest it be struck by the second set of struts. A horrid chorus of unnatural cries split the air behind them as the leading edge of the wave of D’Karon creatures attempted to cross the pools of flame.
“Will the fire be enough to stop them?” Krettis asked.
Her eyes were wide with panic and she’d dug her fingers into the seat for fear of falling. Most people found it very difficult to resist the uplifting effects of Ivy’s aura, but as Ether and the D’Karon had frequently illustrated, if one was stubborn or unwilling they could shrug off both the positive and negative influence.
“I very much doubt it,” he stated simply.
A few more seconds at their present speed were all it took for the carriage to cross the remaining island and bridge. Once firmly upon the mainland, Celeste again opened the door and leaned out.
“Here! Form up at the bridge and hold your ground!” he ordered. He then turned to Ivy and placed a hand on her shoulder. “That’s enough, Ambassador.”
She nodded and brought the tune to a stirring crescendo. When she was through, she beamed a broad smile at Marraata.
“You did wonderful!” Ivy said breathlessly, clutching Marraata’s arm. “Ambassador, you didn’t tell me your aide was so musical!”
“What possible difference would something like that make in a proper diplomatic exchange? And how can you think of such a thing at a time like this? There are creatures heading in this direction. We should retreat to a fortress or at least a city!”
Ivy brushed away some flecks of blood and pulled at her torn shawl. Though her joyful influence had all but healed her various scrapes and gouges, the stains remained.
“No. We’ve got to take care of this. I might be an ambassador now, but I was Chosen first, and this is my duty,” Ivy said simply.
She stowed her violin with care and stepped through the splintered remains of the broken door. All six guards, the three Alliance on the left and the three Tresson on the right, stood at the mouth of the bridge, weapons ready. Just as Ivy’s joy had allowed her to heal, so did it mend the worst of the injuries of those hurt prior to their retreat. The red-clad Tressons each had a bow drawn, but none had fired. Ivy quickly reasoned why.
“We need to work together, everyone,” she said. “Those of you from Tressor, you have permission to fire on anything crossing this bridge that you believe would be a threat to your people or ours. Those things are D’Karon, not Northern Alliance. They are just as much our enemy as yours, so if you believe you have a shot, take it.”
Her assurance prompted three sharp twangs of bowstrings. All three bolts hit their mark, shattering the singed but still dangerous beasts that had burst through the flames.
For a few tense moments, the rush of creatures across the bridge seemed not to be slowing at all. The alliance guards took forward positions and put their swords to work on the scattered beasts that made it past the arrows of the Tressons. With each moment though, more of the tar-soaked bridge took to flame, and the gauntlet of burning wood began to claim the smaller beasts and render the larger ones weak enough to be easily dispatched.
After a quarter of an hour the first wave of creatures had dwindled to nothing. The guards stood ready for what would come next, eyes peering through the smoke and flames of the bridge at the approaching second wave. Easily as numerous as the faster beasts, this group comprised larger, slower monsters, chief among them the lumbering monstrosity that had been Celeste’s greatest concern.
The wave of twisted forms rolled forward. Though the bridge was now fully consumed in flames, it had been built of fine timber and stubbornly refused to collapse. This fact had not gone unnoticed by Ambassador Krettis.
“What do we do if the bridge holds?” she asked.
“We will have the carriage take you and your aide to the nearest town. Your guards too, if you prefer.”
“And what of you?”
“We will stand and fight.”
“You can’t hope to defeat that thing.”
“You’d be surprised,” Ivy said.
“Even the crazed
beast you became could not fell so massive a monster,” Krettis said.
Ivy turned, cocking her head. “Crazed beast?”
“I saw in your eyes the blood fury. When I was told you would be my counterpart in this mission, I was warned that there were claims you could become some sort of rampaging monster. It was a harrowing sight.”
The malthrope grinned. “Oh, you haven’t seen that happen. Not yet.”
“What do you mean? The madness in your eyes was unmistakable.”
“I hope you never have to see me as the thing they warned you about. But if it happens, I assure you, you’ll know it.”
All eyes turned back to the charge of monsters. They were nearly upon the bridge now, and their pace had slowed as they fought and shoved to be the first to plunge into the flames. One beast, a thing that looked not unlike a bison with scales, thundered onto the planks. Three heedless steps brought its foot down on a plank too charred to support it, and the monster toppled down into the water to be swallowed by the churning waves. Half a dozen beasts made similarly ill-fated attempts to cross the bridge before the crab-thing finally thumped onto the blackened span.
By virtue of its size, the hulking creation had to plant its feet on the far sides of the bridge. It so perfectly fit the bridge one could almost imagine the structure having been built specifically to facilitate the monster’s eventual escape. Walking as it was on the outer edge of the burning structure, it was supported by the thickest, most intact beams.
The D'Karon Apprentice Page 24
