Her guards stood there trying not to look embarrassed at her outburst, although Rafe put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. With some difficulty, she mustered the fragile self-control that had abandoned her and managed to compose herself again.
The surrender was a godsend, bizarre and unexpected as it was, but she immediately saw potential for disaster if they didn’t capitalize on their good fortune. She spotted Captain Mons nearby, recently promoted after recognition for his heroism in the first battle.
“Captain Mons, I need you to take charge of the enemy’s surrender. Get as many men as you need and make it happen. I expect them to be treated honorably.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” The young captain bowed and then began shouting for men, organizing them into groups to disarm and round up and secure the thousands of prisoners.
Irralith reappeared, herding surrendering Nebarans before her into the hands of Captain Mons and his stunned soldiers.
Once the spell was broken and everyone realized the battle was over, other officers stepped up to aid Mons and establish order, organizing details to aid the wounded and fetch supplies from the wagons.
With her work done, Irralith strode over to Sianna and her bodyguards, a broad smile on her face. She snapped her fingers, and a pavilion suddenly sprang into being around them, screening them off from the thousands of watching eyes. Jahn and Kavia cursed, startled, and Rafe gasped. Irralith grinned at their reactions, and her appearance changed back to her normal human form, with her striking looks that turned men’s heads around the camp.
“I’m afraid I can’t summon a table and chairs, nor wine—none that would be satisfying, at any rate.” She smirked and stuck her fingers through the wall of the tent, showing Sianna’s uneasy guards the truth of her illusion.
“Irralith, I can’t believe that just happened,” Sianna finally said.
“Winning the war good enough to earn a full pardon, Majesty?” She bowed and grinned.
“And then some.” Sianna returned her smile. “I sincerely thank you for that and hereby pardon you of any crimes. I’m afraid Iris isn’t here right now to draft up the formal pardon.”
Irralith shrugged. “I trust your word of honor.”
“Accompany me to Llantry and my castle,” she said, a sudden impulse striking her. “There will be some gold in it, enough for you to make a fresh start.”
“Now you’re speaking my language, Your Majesty.” A hungry look filled her eyes—greed, though whether at the mention of gold or a fresh start, Sianna was unsure. Perhaps both. “I am your humble servant.”
Sianna realized the illusory tent did nothing against the wind or cold. She was shivering and sore and wished she had some mulled wine and a warm blanket. I am the queen. Surely that is not too much to ask.
“Rafe, will you please give the order to make camp near here—perhaps near the supply train. Have some men build a fire and warm some wine. And perhaps some food. A chair and warm blanket would be appreciated also. It is a bit cold out here.”
“At once, Your Majesty.” By habit, Rafe ducked out of the tent when he left.
She turned back to the illusionist. “That was marvelous, Irralith. I wish I’d have thought of it sooner.”
The changeling puffed up with pride. “I admit, I outdid myself on that one. It wouldn’t have worked earlier, though—not with Nesnys still there. But without leadership, rudderless men, fearful and with weary minds—those are the most fertile fields in which to ply my trade.”
Our salvation this day came in the most unlikely of forms.
Sianna could scarcely believe their good fortune, and she hoped she wasn’t being selfish or blasphemous for thinking it was about time the gods smiled on them for a change.
Chapter 42
Ferret was standing at the base of the bridge when it collapsed. She instinctively hopped back onto solid ground near Taren and could only stare in shock as her friends disappeared among chunks of crumbling stone into the open sky below.
Taren shouted in alarm, but she barely heard him.
When the smoke and rock dust cleared, Ferret saw Creel and Kulnor plummeting down into the Abyss. Aninyel, being closer to the far side, had nearly leaped clear. She currently was clinging precariously to the remaining blocks of the bridge. Mira, surprisingly, wasn’t plunging unchecked but had her palms pressed together, eyes closed with a look of concentration on her face. She somehow floated in the air, as if she had the weight of a feather, slowly drifting downward.
“We have to help them!” Ferret shouted, frantic to do something. The sight of Creel and Kulnor plunging to their deaths made her want to scream in helpless rage.
Taren had fallen to his knees and looked as if he would be little help, as though he had overexerted his magic already. It seemed to take all his strength merely to avoid collapsing.
“This unit is equipped for flight,” G-77 said helpfully.
“Then fly, little brother. And don’t let go of me.” Ferret stepped off the side, hoping this didn’t end up being the most foolish thing she had ever done—as well as the last.
She plunged like a stone, the craggy innards of the island streaking past. She had to position herself so that her head was facing downward in order to keep an eye on her friends. Briefly, she wondered if she would have had the guts to do this if she had still been human. Curiously, she didn’t even feel as if she were falling at all, with none of that heart-in-her-throat sensation. She shot past Mira in an instant, the monk’s face strangely tranquil. Ferret couldn’t comprehend how she could feel peaceful at such a time.
Against her back, G-77 let out a series of clanks, then spring-loaded metal wings burst out of the metal backpack built into his carapace. A low rumbling sound followed as a magical force similar to the mistral skiff’s was activated, and the two of them slowed until they were gliding controllably down the shaft through the base of the island.
Far below in the open sky, she could barely make out Kulnor and Creel beyond even him.
“We need more speed,” she called to her rider.
The walls of the shaft sped past in a blur as they accelerated straight downward, and at first, she wished she could feel what must be a thrilling sensation, but then she thought better of it. She’d probably have lost her lunch if she had eaten anything.
Mayhap I’d spew out a cog or two. The thought made her grin inwardly.
Ferret shot out of the shaft, and wide-open sky spread around as far as she could see. She adjusted her angle and, after a couple moments, was quickly approaching Kulnor, who was tumbling wildly through the air, arms and legs flailing. As if trying to tackle the dwarf, she collided with him and wrapped her arms around his stout chest. Kulnor grunted what might have been a startled curse. His eyes were wide and face pale, but he looked remarkably composed, considering he was plunging to his death—or if there was no bottom to this world, an endless fall until he died of thirst or starvation.
She had lost sight of Creel momentarily, and Kulnor’s helmeted head was blocking her view. The dwarf looked mighty undignified with his beard blowing up in his face from the rush of wind.
“Where’s Creel?” she shouted.
“There!” Kulnor pointed below and to one side, holding his beard out of his face.
Whereas the dwarf had been tumbling uncontrollably, Creel looked to be casually flying. His arms and legs were stretched out, and he fell chestfirst through the air, black hair streaming up behind him, as if he were a great bird soaring on an updraft.
Unfortunately, another floating isle was beneath him, and it was coming up alarmingly fast.
***
Taren struggled to recover from what had occurred—both mentally from the shock of losing his friends so suddenly and physically from the bout of illness trying to lay him low. And to make matters worse, Ferret had just jumped over the side. Whatever her reason might have been he didn’t know, but he hoped she knew what she was doing.
He quickly took stock of the situation. Along w
ith Ferret, Creel and Kulnor were already gone—he’d seen them the first to fall.
Across the chasm, Aninyel clung by one hand to the protruding skeleton of remaining bridge. As he watched, she carefully sheathed her saber then stretched her other hand up to try to get a two-handed grip when a band of metal encircled her wrist. The strange automaton stood near the edge and had extended an arm that telescoped out to thrice its normal length. It hoisted Aninyel up with ease.
That leaves Mira unaccounted for.
He peered into the open chasm and saw the monk below. Mira was perched on a boulder jutting out from the opposite side of the shaft, about fifty paces down. His surge of relief was palpable.
Now just need to get her back up here somehow. But first, I need to deal with this bastard.
The fiend was surrounded by a nimbus of green flame as it regarded Taren with blazing eyes from the cavernous depths of its cowl.
“Son of Neratiri,” the fiend said in a hollow voice as dry as a thousand-year-old corpse. “You have proven most elusive.”
Good, keep talking. It might give me time to recover and figure out a desperate plan.
“You know me, then?” he asked. “What are you, Nesnys’s lapdog?”
“You may call me Taananzu, mortal. I execute Lord Shaol’s will.” Taananzu still hovered in the air, drifting slightly closer to Taren as green fire crackled around the openings of its sleeves.
“Why do you serve Nesnys? Surely you are much more than a simple slave to her whims?” He hoped to anger the demon so that it made a careless error, though he didn’t think that likely.
At the same time, Taren reached out for the magic, this time focusing on the distant vitality of the forest growing on the mountain’s slopes. He drew on the well, aware that his actions would kill a great number of the trees, but he and his friends would be dead in a short time if he didn’t take such drastic measures.
The robed demon didn’t take his bait. “Nesnys and I both serve our lord, and our paths align for the moment. I am commanded to deliver you alive to Lord Shaol, yet if you continue to resist, I shall make your existence one of pain heaped upon agony.”
Taren tried not to shudder at the cold promise implicit with Taananzu’s threat. With the power brimming in him, he spared a glance for Aninyel, who had her saber drawn and was moving carefully along the edge of the chasm, eyes focused steadily on Taananzu.
“Get ready, Aninyel,” Taren sent with a psionic push. He didn’t know if the elf would be receptive, but he hoped so.
He released a torrent of the mana he’d collected, slamming Taananzu with a hurricane-force blast of wind. Fire spewed from the fiend’s sleeves but was whipped harmlessly away. Taananzu’s robes snapped like a taut sail, then the demon was hurtling backward across the gorge, the wind slamming it hard into the ground. Clods of dirt and rocks burst upward as the demon plowed a furrow in the earth.
Before Taananzu had come to a stop, Aninyel pounced like a cat. Her saber carved deep into the fiend’s torso, a blur of silvery flashes. A dagger appeared in her off hand, stabbing into the hood.
A dark miasma suddenly swirled around Taananzu, like the poisonous spores of a disturbed fungus. Aninyel cried out and leaped away. Her left arm became afflicted by the fiend’s magic and instantly withered down to the bones, her skin dried like old parchment and covered in weeping sores. Her dagger fell from her clawlike hand, but she resolutely kept her saber trained on her foe. Her teeth were gritted in pain, yet her gray eyes blazed like a crackling storm cloud.
The automaton fired a blast of ruby light from the gem in its chest. Taananzu rose up from the ground and extended its sleeves, out of which jets of roiling darkness poured toward the construct. The magical energies collided, flaring so brightly Taren had to look away, spots blooming in his eyes.
He readied more magic, but his well was already running dry. The small bit of forest within his range had already been exhausted of whatever vitality it had to give. He struggled to reach out farther to draw more in, but his attempts were fruitless. What earth magic remained in the Refuge was only a weak trickle.
An explosion cracked from across the chasm, and the automaton was hurled violently away, slamming up against the cliffside. It collapsed to the ground.
Taananzu turned its fell attention on the injured Aninyel, and Taren could do nothing to help his friend.
***
Creel was falling through the air unchecked, the sensation as thrilling as it was terrifying. He had discovered he could control his fall to a degree—he could go faster if he tucked his arms and legs in tight or slower with his limbs spread and chest puffed out, much like a child’s kite catching the wind.
Open sky yawned beneath him, an endless expanse as far as the eye could see. Yet off to his right was another floating island. He angled his body, and the wind buffeted him brutally, but he began falling nearer and nearer the isle, until it was coming up below him.
As he fell, he was strangely at peace, almost relishing the thought of meeting his end. Surely, the impact would come so swiftly that his death wouldn’t even be felt. He doubted even he could survive being smashed to pulp in such a manner.
He had given it his best but in the end had to embrace the inevitable. Rada, I’ll see you soon, my love.
***
“I need more speed!” Ferret cried.
“Are you mad?” Kulnor roared.
G-77 complied, and they put on an even greater burst of speed, streaking toward Creel even as the rocky island rushed up to meet them. Ferret shifted Kulnor to her left arm, holding the dwarf unceremoniously to her hip as a housewife might balance a toddler. Her other hand reached for Creel’s leg, approaching swiftly as they drew closer.
But the ground was gaining on all of them, looming larger very rapidly.
Ten more paces to Dak… five… one.
Her hand clamped onto Creel’s calf, startling the monster hunter. He looked around, eyes wide. She pulled him in closer and grabbed hold of his belt.
“Lass, what in the bloody Abyss?”
Ferret tried to pull up, and they were buffeted harshly in the magic’s battle with gravity.
“Weight limit exceeded for flight,” G-77 warned, entirely too cheerfully.
The rocky ground was still streaking toward them, even as she struggled to pull up, no more than a couple hundred paces away now. Trees and bushes and large boulders grew large in her vision.
“Give me full power!” Ferret shouted.
She angled her feet down, trying to will herself back upward as G-77 tried to give them all the power it had.
It wasn’t enough.
The ground raced up to meet them.
Her metal heart could have torn in two as she was forced to make a decision. “Dak, I’ve got to let you go—you should survive this.”
Creel nodded sharply in understanding.
Ferret managed to get them close to a tall tree, then flung Creel into the branches. He disappeared into the leafy canopy, then she and Kulnor were plunging through trees of their own. She rolled onto her right side, shielding Kulnor from as much damage as she could. Leaves slapped around them, and branches snapped against her metal body, but with the loss of Creel’s extra weight and the slowing effect of the tree branches, they had slowed dramatically—so much that the thrust of G-77’s wings finally overcame gravity, and they shot upward out of the trees again.
Kulnor gave a bellow of triumph, and Ferret herself shouted in excitement.
A moment later, they were on the ground. Other than bumps and bruises, Kulnor appeared fine. He fell to his knees and kissed the stone beneath his feet.
“Dak!” Ferret cried. She forced a path through the overgrown plants in the direction she had left him. “Dak, are you up there?”
A mumbled voice came from somewhere overhead. G-77 took her back up, and she found Creel wedged into a bough of the big tree. A path of missing leaves and broken branches showed where he had plunged through the canopy.
S
he gently lifted him from the tree in her arms and brought them back down to earth.
“Are you all right?” She lowered Creel to the ground and knelt beside him.
His icy gaze locked with hers. “What in the Abyss were you thinking?” He seemed almost angry.
“Saving your arse,” she said sullenly, taken aback by his reaction.
He shook his head. “That was bloody mad.” Then he grinned fiercely and clapped one hand on the top of her metal head. “Gods, that was bloody mad.”
“Wasn’t it, though?” Ferret hugged him then, taking care not to injure him further, but he winced anyway. She released him and looked him over. “How bad is it?”
“Left arm is broken… same with a couple ribs. Back hurts like a bastard—might’ve cracked a vertebra or two. Other than that, just bumps and bruises, I reckon.”
Ferret looked up at the sounds of crunching brush announcing Kulnor’s approach.
“Creel?” he asked.
“Aye.”
“We all survived that? I’ll be damned.” Kulnor barked a laugh.
“Aye, but the others might not be so fortunate up top.” Creel gritted his teeth and tried to sit up. “Help me up.”
Ferret pulled him to his feet. Kulnor frowned at Creel’s broken arm hanging limply and his hand clutched to his broken ribs.
“Here, let me patch ye up,” the dwarf offered.
“No time. We need to get back up there. Besides, your clerical magic won’t do much for me—part of what makes me what I am.”
Kulnor grunted his assent.
“I can only carry one of you back up at a time,” Ferret warned.
“Let’s go,” Creel said in a tone that brooked no argument. “She’ll come back and pick you up, Kulnor.”
Trial of the Thaumaturge (Scions of Nexus Book 3) Page 36
