Wanderer's Song

by P. E. Padilla

  The priest snapped his head up as if he hadn’t really been listening and was surprised to be addressed. “What? Oh, yes, I can use my power to make our passing easier and theirs harder.”

  “Good, then do it when we get into those trees up there. Maybe it will be enough. Let’s go. Pace yourselves. We’re not at the point where we can run just yet. I’ll let you know when we are.”

  The party headed down the hill and into the sparse trees at the base of it. As they moved closer toward the river, the trees grew bigger and closer together. The grasses, ferns, and bushes, also increased in number. Urun took the lead, passing through the vegetation as if it wasn’t there. The party followed him, a clear path allowing them to move quickly. Fahtin looked behind Aeden, the last one in the group, and saw the plants close up as he passed, making a thick wall of choking branches, vines, and nettles to stand against their pursuers’ passing. She found herself marveling at the nature priest’s power and hoped it would be enough to save them.

  The next time they glimpsed the army following them, it seemed to have slowed down. The party was on another hill, the last real foothill before the flatter country around the river. The first part of the pursuing mob was just coming out of a stand of trees into an open area. They appeared to have lost ground to the ones fleeing them. It lightened Fahtin’s heart. Maybe they could make the bridge after all. She wasn’t sure what would happen after that, but she would focus on one step at a time.

  Aeden let loose with another string of curses in that language of his. She really needed to sit down with him and have him translate those for her. They sounded very colorful. She wondered if the translations would sound as interesting.

  Looking to him and then following his gaze to the north, she saw what had set him off. She rarely cursed, but thought she would like to use some of his stockpile of exclamations.

  Ahead, barely two dozen miles, was another black shape. If anything, this one was bigger than the one following them. There had to be thousands of the creatures in each group, and they closed in from two sides. Their route to the bridge had been blocked.

  “How long?” Aeden asked Tere Chizzit.

  The tracker looked back at the first army and then over to the new one. “At the rate they’re moving, two hours at the most. They know they’re close, and they’ll start moving faster now.”

  “What can we do?” Raki asked.

  “Keep going due west. I would normally try to circle around and go back, past the first group, but they seem to sense Aeden. I’m pretty sure they’re close enough. I’m hoping we can find some caves or other natural feature to slip out of their grasp. It’s the best I can come up with.”

  “Can we use the river?” Aeden asked. “Make a raft or something, swim to the other side?”

  “Maybe,” Tere Chizzit said, “but I doubt it. The Alvaspirtu is very powerful here. Swimming would probably not be a good idea. I don’t expect we’ll have enough time to build a raft, or even to cut down a small tree, but we’ll just have to see. In any case, we’re out of other directions to go. West to the river or south through the same terrain we’ve been traversing. I say west.”

  No one else had any better ideas, so they went west.

  Within an hour, they began to hear the creatures chasing them from both directions. Some of them yipped and howled, some screamed what were probably war cries. All the sounds made Fahtin’s middle vibrate, adding to the trembling she already felt from fear. Was this how it felt for animals when they were hunted? She had seen “civilized” hunts where men would run down animals with their hunting dogs, exhausting the creature so they could come up and shoot it with their bows. She had always thought it inhumane, but now even more so.

  If it hadn’t been for Urun Chinowa and his ability to clear the path of vegetation for them, closing it up again after them, they would have been caught long before they reached the river. As it was, the sounds of the pursuers made Fahtin think they would burst from the underbrush at any second as the party reached their goal.

  When she made her way up to Urun and Tere, all hope in her fled and she began to weep.

  They were at the top of a cliff, probably fifty feet above the wide, swirling river. The water moved so quickly, she would never have thought of entering it, even if just wading in from its bank. Dropping from that height into it was suicide.

  “So,” Aeden said. “How would you like to die? Crushed by a fall, drowned, or torn apart by black beasts?” He sounded tired, resigned.

  “We cannot stand against these numbers,” Urun said. Even if I should call forth all the power Osulin would provide to me, it would not be enough. They will overwhelm us.”

  “Do you think you can do one of those magic explosions, Aeden?” Raki said.

  “I honestly don’t know,” Aeden admitted. “I haven’t been able to except that one time. Even if I could, though, I don’t think we could survive thousands of the monsters attacking us.”

  “Then it’s settled,” Tere Chizzit said. “There’s no time left. We have to jump. Cross your arms in front of you, holding everything to yourself. Cross and bend your legs to absorb the impact. It’s going to feel like you’re hitting stone, but as long as you do what I say, it shouldn’t break your legs. Try to find each other, but most of all, get to the shore as soon as you can. Staying in that river is death. Do you understand?”

  “I can’t jump,” Fahtin said, looking over the cliff. “I can’t do it. There has to be another way.”

  Aeden took her hands. “Fahtin, there is no other way. You can swim; I’ve seen you. Do as Tere says. It’s our only chance.”

  Fahtin looked over the edge of the cliff. She thought she was brave. Well, braver than most people. Hadn’t she proven it in combat with these creatures? Still, as she stared down at the churning water so far below, she began to have trouble breathing. Putting her hand on her chest and taking slow, deep breaths, she told herself that she had to do it. It would be safe enough. Safer than facing the armies coming for her. All she had to do was step off the cliff. That’s all. She would land in the water and then swim to the shore.

  But she couldn’t make her legs move. She could hardly get a breath in. Her head swam dizzily at the thought of doing what was asked of her. Heavy shapes crashed through the foliage. The animaru were here. There was no time left. Still, she couldn’t force herself to jump.

  As she turned toward the sound, scores of creatures came sprinting toward her and her friends. How would you like to die? Aeden had asked. Which way indeed. She fumbled a knife into each hand and looked into the heart of the mob coming at them. Which way to die?

  43

  Koixus hated this world of light. She longed for the darkness of her home, the familiar landscape of her world. It was important work they were doing, no doubt, but she did not like the place.

  It wasn’t just the light that irritated her. There was the insistent buzzing, the small vibration she felt being surrounded by that strange power. What was it Khrazhti had called it? Life? The land teemed with it. Whether things moved or stayed in one place, it seemed that everything in this S’ru-forsaken world was infused with this life. How did proper creatures handle it? Was it just her, or did the others feel it, too?

  Her counterpart, Maenat, led the other force. She had not spoken with him much, but perhaps she could ask him. It was a waste of time to speak with the rabble she commanded. They were hardly worthy of the name animaru.

  Throughout history, throughout her three thousand years, battles had largely been won or lost by the common, essentially powerless, animaru, but that didn’t make her respect them any more than she respected a weapon or a rock used to strike an opponent. No, she would not ask them. They probably didn’t feel the strange power anyway.

  Maenat, on the other hand, was one worthy of respect. She had faced him many times in battle, most often one-on-one. He was intelligent and powerful, a worthy adversary. He had use of the magic, so he should be even more sensitive to this “life” abn
ormality.

  She pondered for a moment the changing circumstances between the two. S’ru was all-powerful, the everlasting god of Aruzhelim. His will was law and to defy him meant endless torment in one of his torture pens. The god delighted in watching his creatures war against each other, going head to head with their combat skills, strategies, and political manipulations. For creatures thousands of years old, what else was there?

  In those thousands of years, there had developed a rivalry between Maenat and herself, sometimes resulting in her victory and even a few times with him coming out on top.

  When S’ru finally managed a conduit to this world of life, though, he commanded all his servants to put aside their posturing and cooperate to prepare the world for their god’s arrival. Thus, Koixus found herself on the same side as her eternal enemy. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. It was really the first new thing she had experienced in centuries.

  At first, the thought of being among the forerunners to this world excited her. New things to see, new foes to vanquish, more chances at glory, all of this appealed to her. If she couldn’t actually fight her rivals, like Maenat, then she could gain more honor by doing greater deeds than them in the war against this new world.

  But the accursed light and life here! She shook her head in disgust. She would kill the Gneisprumay, bring this world under her dominion, and hand it to her god. Then she would go back to her own world, with its comfortable darkness and the absence of this insistent chafing power constantly assaulting her.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by the whoops and screams of some of her troops, the few who could run faster than she. She cast off her musings and focused on the task at hand.

  The Gneisprumay was ahead. She could feel him. That was strange in itself. She enjoyed a certain tolerance to magic—though she had not faced this life magic that was reported to be able to destroy even the animaru—but she had never shown an affinity for using it. Despite this, she felt the presence of the One who was an anathema to them. He was ahead, with his pitiful allies, trapped. She pushed her speed so she was even with all but a few of the fastest animaru. The One would fall to her this day, and she would get the glory that came with the conquest. She would not let Maenat take that from her.

  Maenat’s troops advanced from her left. The two armies would meet at the point where their enemy was helpless, back against a very long drop into the liquid that seemed to be ubiquitous in this miserable world. There was simply nowhere else to run. The armies would meet, they would destroy these pitifully weak animals that populated this world, and they would move on to conquer the entire world.

  She saw an opening in the things—what had Khrazhti called them? Trees? Plants?—up ahead and rushed forward. Maenat was there, just coming out into the open as well, first among his troops. As she cleared the last of the plants, she finally saw her prey with her own eyes. He was standing, the weapons in his hands glowing like the rest of this place. He had life in him, as it seemed everything did here, but in him it seemed as bright as that thing in the sky. Next to him, surprisingly, another glowed brightly, too. No matter, though. Koixus had eyes only for the Gneisprumay. She growled and launched herself at him.

  “Go!” Aeden yelled at Fahtin over his shoulder as he drew his swords. “There is no time to debate. Jump or I will knock you off the cliff.”

  The damn girl was just standing there. No, not just standing there. She had drawn her knives, though she seemed to be moving sluggishly. Why didn’t she just jump?

  Aeden looked around at his friends. None of them had taken the leap off the cliff yet. He understood apprehension about dropping from so great a height, but couldn’t they see it was certain death to stay where they were and face the animaru coming at them? There were thousands of them, more than they could ever withstand, even if he were able to make that explosion he had created with his magic that one time.

  The enemies were close. He could hear them crashing through the trees around them, bellowing in their excitement. They would tear the party apart. Aeden, for one, did not want to die that way. Truth be told, he didn’t want to die at all, but especially in that way.

  “Tere!” he shouted, “Get everyone else into that river. Now! We can’t survive this assault.”

  The old tracker nodded and began chivvying Raki and Fahtin toward the edge. She still moved listlessly, but Raki seemed to know what was required of him. He looked down at the river and gulped. Then he closed his eyes, took a breath, opened them again, and stepped off the edge. Good boy.

  Aeden appreciated that Tere didn’t take an arrow from his quiver, didn’t argue about staying. He was experienced enough to know that there was no way they’d survive the forces coming at them. He moved Fahtin toward the cliff, and Aeden had no doubt he would step off after the others had gone.

  “Go,” Aeden said to Urun. The priest was standing next to him, muttering to himself. Preparing a spell or prayers for power? For that matter, it could just be his normal ravings.

  “I’ll go when you do,” the man said. “My power is potent against these creatures. We can hold them off for a moment until the others are safely away. We jump together, Aeden.”

  So be it. There was no time to argue. Aeden laced his weapons with magic just as the first of the creatures broke through the underbrush and were only a few dozen feet away.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Fahtin dropped out of sight. Tere looked at him once, nodded, and stepped into nothingness himself. It was only him and Urun now.

  Three creatures reached them simultaneously. They looked the same: thin, wiry, and very fast. Urun caught one mid-leap with his power, and it flashed with the magic, screaming in pain. Aeden lost sight of it as he spun to dodge the attacks of the other two, ducking under sharp claws to open the belly of one of them with both his swords. The power of his magic burned along both blades and as they cut, fire lanced out from them, blasting the hapless creature apart.

  The other animaru, just a step behind, had both legs severed by the savage slashes of Aeden’s sword and then met its end when he circled the blades around and stabbed downward, pinning the creature to the ground. Aeden thought that he really needed to learn more about using his magic. Infusing weapons with the power was not the most effective use, he figured. It was something, though. Better than using non-magic weapons.

  As Aeden turned to step off the cliff, a lighter-colored animaru was suddenly there in front of him. The way it was shaped, he thought it might be female. It held two swords of its own and flowed so smoothly from a run into an attack, he was barely able to deflect the blades. He caught sight of another foe, this one covered in hair, waving its arms toward him. Urun said something, almost a command, and Aeden felt the hair on his arms try to lift up. He couldn’t pay close attention—the battle with this pale animaru took all his focus—but he knew a magical battle was being waged. It was all the more eerie because of the lack of sound from either of the two wielding it.

  He had to finish this foe quickly. The two had reached him faster than the other creatures, but it would only be seconds until two dozen more were upon him. He lunged in to strike and his opponent seemed to elongate, stretching around the blows to avoid them. She counterattacked, faster than anything he had ever fought, and he was only able to block one of the swords, slipping just outside the range of the other. No, not outside of range. He got a slash along his side for his miscalculation.

  “We have to go, Aeden,” Urun panted. “Now. I can’t hold this other one back much longer.”

  He knew it was true. He also knew that at best, he was evenly matched with his current foe. He launched a flurry of strikes at the thing, quick slashes from every conceivable direction, so fast that even he could not see his blades moving. The animaru evaded, blocked, or parried all of them. A small smile came onto the creature’s face as she attacked him even as she was defending.

  “Go,” Aeden said, sweeping his foot out to strike at his opponent’s leg while thrusting in with his swords.
One of his weapons was parried, the other landed a glancing blow—a very minor cut—along one of the creature’s arms. He got a gash along his thigh in trade.

  But he was already in motion, heading for the lip of the cliff. He was so caught up in the adrenaline of the fight, he didn’t even feel his new wound, but he thought about it. His opponent had sacrificed a slash to her arm so she could deliver a more serious wound to his leg. That didn’t bode well. That type of calculated sacrifice demonstrated a keen intelligence. If there were more like this one, they would be in very deep trouble. If they survived the next few moments at all.

  Aeden didn’t know if Urun had jumped or not. He hoped so. As he left the solid ground, pushing off with his uninjured leg, he felt a red hot line of fire travel across his lower back, just below his crossed scabbards and his pack, and he grunted. The creature had taken advantage of his inattention and landed another strike. He hoped it wasn’t too deep.

  The last thing he could think to do was to quickly flick his swords into their scabbards as he fell. He put his legs together, windmilled his arms to stay upright, and then crossed them to hold onto his swords and pack as he plunged into the water fifty feet below.

  Koixus looked down at that flowing liquid so far below, growling low in her throat. She had almost had the Gneisprumay. Damn him and his cowardice. If he had stood and fought, he would be dead now, dead at her hands.

  He was skilled in combat, this one. That had surprised her. From the prophecies, it seemed that he would be a spell-caster, one who relied on magic to fight for him. Like Maenat. Yet he had crossed swords with her. She had sensed the magic in him, felt it when he had struck her. She looked down at the scratch he had given her. It burned as nothing she had ever felt. She enjoyed a certain resistance to magic, but if a small cut like this burned so greatly because of this life energy, what would happen if she received a serious wound? She knew then that it was true. This one could actually destroy that which should be eternal. A sobering thought.