Unbroken Chain: The Darker Road

by Jaleigh Johnson

  “Go away,” she said. The rebuke, a tangible force, penetrated the worlds and rang fiercely in Sree’s ears. The hathran cried out in surprise and pain, and the vision dissolved into a black abyss into which she was falling, falling.…

  Sree opened her eyes and found herself back on the boat. She stared at her sisters. Reina’s eyes were shocked, Elina had her face buried in Sree’s lap, and Agny … Sree couldn’t see the witch’s face behind her mask, but her eyes were cold. It was a frightening sight, and for a moment, Sree was afraid the hathran’s ire was aimed at her.

  After a breath, Agny seemed to regain control of herself. She closed her eyes and opened them again. The boat began to move, angling back toward the dock. Agny breathed deeply before she spoke.

  “Reina,” she said quietly, “once we’re on shore, I want you to speak to Slengolt and his fang. They’re to put on extra guards to secure our borders. Tell them what you saw in our vision. If these strangers come to Tinnir, they’re to be brought to me immediately.”

  Reina nodded. Her large eyes were the only indication of her unease. Sree addressed Agny. “What does this mean, Sister? The spirits are rarely silent—”

  “They were not silent,” Agny said. “The spirits showed us that these strangers are at the center of what’s happening in the village. Now we must find out how and why.”

  “We don’t even know what sort of creatures we face,” Reina said. “Did you see their eyes?”

  Agny looked at the young ethran. “I did, and I know what they are—the soulless ones. You saw the shadows clinging to them, Reina?”

  The ethran shivered and nodded. “Shadows that looked alive.”

  “They are shadar-kai, a race spawned from the empire of Netheril. I’ve seen them on the caravan trails, though I’ve never spoken to one to know its mind. Outlanders tell stories of their frenzied nature. They lose themselves in battle and fight with a ferocity that makes others fear them.”

  “Like the berserkers,” Reina said.

  “No,” Agny said sharply. “Our warriors fight to protect their families and their homes. There is honor in every strike of their blades, for the sacrifices they make in battle strengthen us all. For the shadar-kai, fighting is merely an excuse to lose themselves to pain and death, to revel in suffering until their bodies are scarred husks.”

  “But why?” Reina asked. “Why inflict such torment on themselves?”

  “Because their souls are made of shadow,” Agny said, “or so the tales claim. Pain and suffering are the only forces strong enough to anchor their essences to this world. They suffer in order that they may live.”

  “What kind of life is that?” Reina said. She reached out to stroke Elina’s hair. The child had fallen asleep in Sree’s lap. “Better to end one’s own life than live to do such damage to one’s self and others.”

  “It’s not as simple as that,” Sree said, speaking for the first time. “To throw away that spark inside of us—to kill—takes a coldness and resolve that perhaps even these shadar-kai do not possess.”

  “Perhaps you’re right, Sister.” Reina’s voice was sad. She didn’t say what she was thinking, but Sree knew. She was remembering Yaraella and the ivory-handled knife protruding from her stomach.

  CHAPTER

  FIFTEEN

  AS THE CARAVAN PASSED THE FIRST TRAIL MARKER IN THE mountains, the wolves descended.

  Cree had been tracking them all that morning. Their movements suggested they were mustering, gathering their pack as fast as they could for the ambush. Under normal circumstances, the beasts would never have been so bold and careless, but Ashok wasn’t surprised they were behaving erratically. The pack was in the grip of the same unnatural madness that had affected the trolls, drawn by Ilvani’s dream visions to the caravan. The entire crew was alert, ready to put in motion the plan Ashok, Daruk, and Tuva had concocted. They were as prepared as they were going to be to weather the storm.

  Ashok knew the moment the nightmare sensed the wolves’ presence. The stallion’s whole body quivered, muscles straining to attack, but Ashok held him in check. His biggest fear was not that the nightmare would surge forward prematurely but that he would utter the cry that sent the caravan into chaos.

  “Keep the beast silent,” Vlahna had told him before they started into the mountains, “or I’ll put an arrow in its throat.”

  Ashok touched the nightmare’s mane, running his fingers through the warm black strands in a calming gesture.

  “If you scream now, everything is lost.” He leaned forward to whisper in the stallion’s ear. “You know what I want from you—fire and speed. Give me those, and you will have your wolf blood. You’ll feast on their carcasses.”

  The nightmare snorted, and once again, the words may not have been there, but the emotions passed between them like shouts. The nightmare would not cry out. He would hold himself in check.

  The wolves reached the trail ahead of them. A high-pitched whistle rent the air, and at the signal, the drovers dropped flat to their bellies on the backs of the wagon horses. Guards rose up behind them in the wagons and let loose with crossbow bolts. Some of them missed, but enough hit that the wolves pulled back from their initial charge and spread out to get at their flanks.

  The horses saw the wolves and went wild. Draped over their backs, the drovers kept the wagon horses from bolting, but there were screams and chaos all through the line. They’d expected that—it was the drovers’ and passengers’ job to keep them in check while the warriors fought.

  Tuva, still wounded, fired a crossbow from the back of Ilvani’s wagon. Daruk was there also. He had his eyes closed—Ashok hoped he was preparing a spell, but he thought it just as likely the bard was meditating as if before a performance.

  Restless, the nightmare stomped his hooves and uttered a sound deep in his throat that sounded very much like a growl.

  “Almost,” Ashok said. The wolves ran along the line in pairs. The crossbow bolts wouldn’t keep them at bay for very much longer. They were too far gone for caution. At this distance, Ashok couldn’t see their eyes, but he knew by the way they moved—with little grace and no thought of protecting their bodies from the crossbow quarrels—the madness gripped them fully.

  Ahead of him, Cree and Skagi abandoned their horses to the Martuck woman, Leesal, who dragged them behind a group of the rear wagons that had clustered together for defense. Mareyn covered her.

  “Come on, Daruk, damn you,” Ashok muttered.

  Finally, the bard opened his eyes and stood up. He jumped over the side of the wagon and landed in a crouch. From his belt, he drew a slender black wand. Unornamented, the item nevertheless glowed with shadowy radiance. Daruk raised it above his head and brought its end down against the ground. At the same instant, he sang a single low note that echoed throughout the pass.

  “Time for the show!” Daruk cried. He threw his head back and laughed—a dark sound that echoed like music. “Goddess, take them into your arms and show them what the shadow truly is!”

  Black energy rippled over the ground like smoke, encircling the camp. Ashok felt a tremor go through his body when the shadows touched him. Strength filled him, a power that made his heart stumble in his chest. He was suddenly cold, colder than he’d ever been, but it was not the debilitating feeling he’d had on the trail. His mind was clear. He saw his enemies before him, and he knew he could crush them singlehandedly if he had to. The power was intoxicating. It filled him up and, when he could no longer take it in, Ashok knew he had to release it or he would die.

  He must kill.

  The nightmare’s flame ripped to life. The stallion felt the power too. It had claimed them both.

  “Go,” Ashok whispered hoarsely, and the nightmare charged.

  He rode alongside the caravan, his chain unfurled at his side to strike out at the first pair of wolves that tried to jump at the wagons. The nightmare’s flame warned one of them off, but the other leaped and blindly grabbed hold of Ashok’s chain with its teeth. It s
hook its head back and forth and tried to tear the weapon out of his grip, but Ashok held on and mangled the side of the monster’s jaw. The wolf hissed, and its icy breath caught Ashok in the arm. Steam rose in the air as fire met frost. The wolf put its massive paws against the nightmare’s flank to try to off balance the stallion, but the nightmare’s fire scalded hotter than it could stand. Yelping, it fell away.

  Frost stiffened Ashok’s arm. He whipped his chain up into his hand and held it against the nightmare’s mane. The burning pain from heat and cold made him light-headed.

  He rode up and down the line, using the fire to drive the wolves back while the humans and Kaibeth and her sellswords got into defensive positions beside the wagons. There were too many gaps. The wolves would not be frightened for long.

  Ashok slid off the nightmare’s back and struck the stallion’s flank. The nightmare charged the wolves, his body exploding into flame until only his red eyes were visible. He absorbed a shock of cold from one of the wolves and struck the thing in the face with his hooves. The wolf howled and fell back, the fur around its face blackened. The nightmare pursued.

  Ashok turned his attention to the warriors by the wagons. He teleported and reappeared beside Skagi and Cree, who were fighting a wolf with patches of fur missing from the left side of its face.

  “We’re calling this one Ugly,” Skagi shouted as a blast of cold caught the warrior in the legs. Skagi went down, but Cree was there to put himself in front of his brother before the wolf could pounce on him. Skagi teleported a safe distance away to regain the feeling in his legs.

  “They’re all ugly,” Cree said. He sliced at the wolf with his left katar blade and turned the creature’s fur red.

  Ashok became solid and protected their left flank, letting the wagon guard their right. He gave himself enough space to swing his chain and struck out at the wolves as they darted in at the gaps between the wagons. His arms never seemed to tire. Daruk’s energy poured out of him in a ceaseless flood. Was there no end to the spell’s power?

  “Do you feel that?” Ashok yelled to Cree as the warrior struck down his wolf again. Skagi was on his feet now and slashed at the thing’s other side.

  “Feel what?” Cree said. He stabbed the wolf in the neck. It did not rise again, but its cold attack stiffened Cree’s movements. Ashok saw Cree flex his arms to try to loosen the muscles and coax feeling back into his fingers. Strangely, Ashok no longer felt the cold in his arm—or anywhere else in his body. He was away from the nightmare, but he was burning with fever.

  “The bard’s spell,” Ashok said. “I feel it giving me strength.”

  “I felt it for a breath,” Skagi said. “We could use another one like it.”

  “Look there,” Cree said, distracting them.

  Ashok looked to where Cree pointed and saw Ilvani levitating over the caravan. Her gaze was unfocused, her attention directed behind them.

  “That’s not a good sign,” Ashok said. “She sees something.”

  “More wolves?” Skagi said. “Let them come. They’re practically hurling themselves on our blades.”

  “They’re doing it to hamper our grips,” Ashok said. The wolves weren’t so far gone that they didn’t recognize where the threat came from. If they were too cold to hold their weapons, the warriors had no chance. The beasts could pick them off at will. He could already see their warriors succumbing to the freezing breath of the winter wolves and having their bodies mauled by the packs.

  The trio moved to help some of these beleaguered defenders. A wolf yanked one of the drovers off his horse. The animal fell screaming under the weight of another wolf. Ashok held his chain in both hands and teleported, reappearing beside the drover’s wolf to strike with necrotic energy dancing along his chain. He willed the shift again and raked the chain along the body of the wolf attacking the horse. The beast howled and turned to bite Ashok, but he was gone again, teleporting in a dizzying circle among the pack.

  Ashok appeared again, panting, finally released of some of the energy from Daruk’s spell. Skagi and Cree covered him while he regained his bearings. The three of them moved down the caravan in a line of death while giving the crew a much-needed defense against the wolves.

  A blast of necrotic energy rained down on the wolves from above. The beasts blew wild breaths of frost and scattered in all directions to avoid the killing shocks. Ashok looked up and saw the black lightning darting between Ilvani’s outstretched hands. She caught his eye and pointed to the east.

  “They’re coming,” she said. “Thorm’s brigands.”

  “Come to clean up what’s left of us, just like we thought,” Cree said.

  “Godsdamned cowards.” Skagi grunted as a wolf hit him in the shoulder. A blast of cold issued from its mouth and struck him in the face. Stunned, he fell under the weight of the wolf.

  Cree dived on top of the beast and wrenched it sideways. It landed in the snow between his body and Skagi’s.

  Ashok tossed one end of his chain to Cree and fell beside Skagi with the other. They pinned the struggling wolf against the ground with the chain. The spikes dug into its flesh. The more the wolf struggled to get up, the more it mauled itself on the weapon.

  It flipped over on its left side and struck out at Ashok’s face, teeth snapping wildly. Ashok grabbed its jaw and pushed its head up. Teeth sank into his palm, but the pain only made Ashok grip harder. He held the wolf’s head in an immovable grip.

  “Skagi!” he cried. He couldn’t turn to see how the other warrior fared, or he’d lose his hold on the wolf. “Can you move?”

  He heard Skagi curse, but the words came out slurred. The warrior rose up to his knees and plunged his falchion into the wolf’s neck. Ashok felt the creature’s warm lifeblood coat his fingers. When it went limp, he relaxed his grip on its jaw.

  “My fault,” Cree said. He threw the end of Ashok’s chain back to him. “I didn’t see that one coming.”

  “We’re all tired.” Skagi dug his fingernails into his cheeks to get the feeling back in his flesh. His words were still slightly garbled. “The brigands are going to hit us just right.”

  “Not if Daruk’s theatrics work,” cried a voice.

  Mareyn ran up to them. She bled from a shallow wound at her neck, but her eyes were still alight with the excitement of the battle. She offered Ashok a hand to get up. When he clasped her forearm, he left a bloody stain.

  “Well, you’ve been busy.” She wiped the blood in the snow. “Is it time to move the caravan along?”

  “Yes,” Ashok said. “Tell the others. We don’t want the brigands slamming into us from behind while we’re at a standstill. If that happens, we’ll be eaten up from both directions.”

  “Stay alive then, until I return,” Mareyn said. She ran back up the caravan and signaled to the drovers.

  Ilvani descended into the back of the wagon nearest Ashok and the brothers. Ashok heard the bard’s voice echoing down the line. He trotted up to Ilvani’s wagon, wand in hand. He held out his other hand to the witch.

  “Ready for the finale, my lady?” he said, eyes gleaming.

  Ilvani ignored his hand and jumped down from the wagon. “Make sure the others feel your song next time,” she said. Her eyes narrowed. “All the others.”

  Daruk’s smile stayed in place, but it looked strained. “After you, my lady,” he said.

  “Wait,” Ashok said. He went to Ilvani. The brothers fell back to cover the wagons until they got moving. “Watch him,” he whispered to Ilvani.

  The witch nodded. “He’s safer with me than with you,” she said. She turned away, and Ashok hurried to help the others.

  For the first time since he’d released it, he looked for the nightmare. Wreathed in red flame, the stallion wasn’t hard to spot at the head of the caravan. The wolves, many of them severely injured by the caravan crew, tripped over one another to get out of the path of fire, but the nightmare ran them down.

  Ashok felt the longing to join in the chase. That strange, pou
nding darkness from Daruk’s spell lingered in his body, calling to him like the last notes of a song. He found it hard to resist.

  A scream rent the air, pulling Ashok out of his stupor. He recognized Mareyn’s voice and ran toward the front wagons. He saw a pair of female wolves amid a whirling vortex of snow and ice that towered over the caravan. The vortex solidified into the largest wolf Ashok had yet seen. Its pelt was heavy with ice crystals, and its eyes shone a strange crystalline blue. A thick cloud of frost blew from its mouth and filled the air around where the wolves stood.

  “Snowfang!” someone cried from the wagons.

  Ashok looked for Mareyn, but he didn’t see her. The pair of smaller females dragged a body by the foot away from the caravan. Ashok broke into a run, but the snowfang was in his way. The larger wolf released another breath, and suddenly the air was the air of the fiercest winter storm. It blinded Ashok and everyone around him. He heard their cries and fumbling as they went down.

  Behind them, the rear guard cried out that the brigands were coming fast. They would be upon them if the wagons didn’t get moving soon.

  Ashok scrubbed furiously at his eyes to try to clear his vision. He kept his chain in front of him, expecting an attack from the larger wolf, but none came. When finally the cold abated, he saw the snowfang running after the other wolves. Those beasts did not appear to be in the grip of the same madness that afflicted the others, or perhaps they’d been able to shake off the effects once Ilvani was far enough away from the caravan. Now they had their prize and were fleeing.

  It was the Martuck boy.

  “What was that?” Ashok demanded. “It was no natural wolf.”

  They stood together in a loose semicircle: Ashok, Skagi, Cree, the merchants, Mareyn, Kaibeth, while the rest of the caravan moved on up the trail. The nightmare paced the trail back and forth between Ashok and the approaching brigands. In the distance, he saw Ilvani and Daruk on the trail—two small figures against the mounted assault of the brigands. They would clash sometime in the next few minutes. Ashok and the rest gathered here were the buffer between the caravan and the brigands, if Daruk and Ilvani let any slip through.