by Keri Arthur
His gaze met mine. He didn’t shout at me to hurry, but the command was nevertheless in his eyes.
The chanting once again stopped, drawing my gaze downward... to see the pale biped plunge his staff into the spine of the female. She didn’t react in any way. The mage slowly turned his staff, as if screwing it tighter into her flesh. The silver began to tarnish, turning a dark blackish red.
Blood, I realized.
The female’s blood was somehow being sucked into the staff. The discoloration bled into the shaft of moonlight and flushed upward, staining the beam with its powerful putridity. As it rose, a deep rumbling began, one that grew louder and appeared to be chasing the bloody swirl.
A tremor.
It was a goddamn earth tremor.
I swore and gave up any pretense of caution, running for the ledge and Donal. The ground cracked and moved under every step, and an avalanche of stones and dirt poured over the side. I didn't care. I just needed off this path.
The red-black stain reached the top of the moonlit shaft and spread like fire across the barrier. Power surged, a wave so powerful I was blasted backward. I hit the crater's wall with a grunt and somehow shoved my fingers into a crevice to steady myself as my feet slipped.
“Nyx, move!” Donal’s voice was barely audible over the increasing intensity and noise of tremor.
I thrust away from the wall and leapt toward him. But as I did, the path collapsed and I dropped into emptiness.
Eight
The rope snapped taut, stopping my fall with jarring abruptness. For several seconds I just hung there, gently swinging back and forth across emptiness, my heart racing and every digit I had crossed in hope that none of the bipeds looked this way.
But we'd been pushing our luck all day and it was inevitable it would give out at the very moment we needed it most.
From the other side of the crater came a fierce roar. I twisted around and saw several bipeds pointing their long swords at us. More roars soon joined in, until it became a wave of sound that rolled all the way down to the pale biped on the dais.
He didn't move—maybe he couldn't move, given his staff remained lodged in the female and her blood continued to be siphoned into the moonlight—but he barked fiercely at those surrounding him. As one, the armored bipeds flowed out of the lit area and began climbing, seeming to have little trouble finding purchase despite the fragility of the crater’s wall.
There had to be at least a hundred clambering toward us. A mere three had almost killed us out in the dead zone.
We needed to get out of here.
Needed to find live earth and air to have any hope of surviving.
I swore, then grabbed the rope and began to climb even as Donal started hauling me up. Heat whizzed past my cheek and exploded into the rock face directly in front, sending shards of stone spearing into my skin. The knife’s heat became fierce, not only burning my thigh but also sending thin beams of golden light spiraling into the bloody glow surrounding us. I had no idea what it was reacting to, but it certainly didn’t stop them firing at me. Nor did it protect me from the sharp missiles of stone that sliced into the air with every shot that barely missed.
The rock shelf loomed large above my head. I released the rope, gripped the edge with both hands, and hauled myself up and over. Globs of yellowish mucus-like material chased me over the edge, hitting close to my heels and almost instantly liquefying the stone. It was some form of acid. Nothing else would affect rock like that.
I surged to my feet and raced to the next wall, once again climbing the rope as Donal pulled me up.
I reached the breach’s edge, scrambled over it, and then quickly crawled away on all fours. But the long, cylindrical weapons the armored bipeds were using weren’t hampered by distance, and the globs of mucus were getting ever closer.
I thrust up and then tried to undo the rope, but my fingers were shaking and the knot so damn tight it was next to impossible.
“Don’t bother.” Donal tossed me my backpack and motioned me forward. “At least if we’re leashed together, if one of us falls from the ledge the other has some chance of saving them.”
“Or being dragged to their death.” But that was perhaps a better option than getting captured by the bipeds. I had a vague feeling our fate might be along the same lines as that of the female on the table.
I drew the knife as we neared the barrier. The bloody-black stain hadn’t yet reached this point, but it was close. I didn’t need to look up to know that—I could feel its foulness wash across the back of my neck.
I thrust the knife’s point into the barrier and swiftly cut an opening. Once Donal had crawled through, I dropped to my knees and followed.
Something hit my foot, and the stench of burning leather began to sting the air. I swore, swung around, and saw the globule leeching into the heel of my left boot.
Then I saw the bipeds—they’d reached our ledge.
I pushed through the gap and quickly pulled the knife away. As the barrier closed once again, Donal grabbed my arm and hauled me upright.
“You okay?”
“No.” I raised my foot and sliced the remains of the bootheel away. I repeated the process with the second heel to even my footing and then pulled away from him. “Go.”
A guttural scream went up behind us. The bipeds, coming at us hard. I didn’t bother checking whether they were able to get through the barrier—we’d know soon enough. Right now, it was far better to concentrate on getting down this mountain as fast as possible.
Donal reached the outcrop and started climbing around it. Something hissed through the air and I instinctively ducked. The globule aimed at my head instead hit the nearby wall and the rock began to melt. I drew a blaster, spun around, and fired. There were a dozen bipeds on the other side of the barrier, but only one of them had a cylinder weapon. The others were pacing back and forth, their weapons raised and their screams filling the night with anger and frustration.
The barrier no more stopped the blaster’s bullets than it did the globules, but once again they made little impact on the creatures as they prowled the barrier’s length. How long it would contain them, I had no idea. The blood ceremony was ongoing, given the stain still spread across the dome, but even creatures as tall as these bipeds only had a finite amount of blood in their bodies. When the female was drained, I very much suspected the mage would be able to open the barrier and unleash his forces.
“Nyx, come on.”
I holstered my gun and knife and then ran for the jutting outcrop. At the halfway point, Donal once again grabbed my arm, dragging me rest of the way and depositing me safely on the other side. A globule hit the rock where I’d been only seconds before and the stone began to melt. It wouldn’t impede them as it had us—in fact, given the ease and speed with which they’d climbed the crater’s wall, it probably wouldn’t have provided much hindrance anyway.
“Move, move,” I said.
He didn’t. Instead, he swung his pack around, pulled out a couple of pomegranates, and lobbed them at the barrier. They passed through it as easily as the bullets and the globules, suggesting the barrier had been designed to stop light and flesh but not metal or their own weapons.
With a huge whoomp, the pomegranates exploded. Blood, flesh, and gore sheeted the barrier, but the furious roar that immediately rose said we hadn’t got them all.
But then, there was a whole volcano filled with the bastards. A few pomegranates were never going to make much of a difference.
Donal shouldered the pack and then led the way down the hill as fast as practical. But it wasn’t just the narrow nature of the path that made things difficult—it was the quake that continued to shudder through the old volcano and the dust and debris that fell like black rain all around us. It was damn difficult to see where we were going despite the fierce glow of the moon.
Somehow, we made it down three levels, then four.
From above came guttural cries that were a mix of jubilation and anger. I
risked a look and saw one of the bipeds leap over the path’s edge and arrow toward us. After several seconds, he twisted in the air and hooked onto the wall with one long hand. Others quickly followed and, within a heartbeat, there were half a dozen of them scrambling toward us.
“Princess, move it,” Donal growled.
I raced after him, concentrating on putting one foot safely after the other, all the while aware of the steadily growing roar of anger coming from above—a very real indicator of how close those creatures were getting and how little time we had left.
Five levels down, then six.
On the path directly below us was the outcrop of rock that protected the cave in which we’d slept. If we could reach it, Donal would be able to call on the wind to help....
Another guttural cry erupted, this time just above my head. I instinctively looked up, only to see a biped coming straight at me. I swore and grabbed my knife, but he was far too close and I was far too slow.
He swooped in, gathered me in one arm, and then leapt over the edge into the night and emptiness.
I had no idea whether he intended suicide or if he was going to spin and grasp the mountain as I’d seen them do above—and no intention of waiting to find out.
As Donal’s curse bit across the noise of the screaming bipeds still above, I thrust the knife as hard as I could into the creature’s gut. It might have built-in body armor, but it was no match for the glowing glass blade, which slid into the biped’s flesh as easily as a hot knife through soft cheese. As blood flowed and blade’s golden fire began cindering its flesh, it bared its teeth and snapped at me. I jerked back instinctively, and only the wash of its dead-meat smelling breath caught me. I gagged but withdrew the knife and thrust it into his body again... and then again. Its grip on me went limp and its body fell away. The rope around my waist went taut and I once again stopped with gut-wrenching suddenness.
“Nyx, cut the rope and drop to the ledge.”
I glanced down and saw it was little more than a couple of feet below me. I freed myself, dropped down, and then glanced up. Donal was tying his end of the rope around an outcrop of rock. Whether or not it would hold was a moot point. More bipeds were flinging themselves down the mountain. If he didn’t get down here fast—or if he tried to use the path—he would be caught and killed.
“Throw me the pulse rifle,” I shouted.
He immediately did so and then climbed over the edge and began to rappel down. I quickly sheathed the bloody knife and then caught the gun, flipped it around, and fired at the bipeds closest to him. The shots ricocheted across the night as blood, gore, and brain matter rained all around me.
It didn’t stop them, but I didn’t expect it to. I was just trying to ensure Donal made it to the ledge in one piece.
He released the rope and dropped the last six feet, briefly sweeping his fingers against the stone platform to gain his balance before he grabbed my arm and pulled me forward.
“Come on, the air awaits. We just have to get off this rock.”
The words were barely out of his mouth when there was a thump behind us. I twisted around and fired the rifle. Three shots took out two of the bipeds, but I missed the third. Before I could fire again, Donal all but threw me over the edge. I swore and landed awkwardly, stumbling forward several feet before I gained my balance. I swung around, saw him in midleap, and jumped back to avoid a collision—then spotted the biped only feet behind him.
“Donal, hit and roll.”
I jumped back again to give him room and then raised the rifle and fired—and kept firing. The biped’s body twitched and bled under the impact, but its momentum was such that he just kept coming. I swore and threw myself sideways, hitting the crater’s wall hard enough to force a hiss of pain. I had no time to recover or gather breath. Donal grabbed my hand, stepped over the body of the biped, and ran down the path. The air began to swirl around us, a force that quickly gathered strength, throwing dust and grit into the air without ever touching us.
Multiple screams rose from the path above; I didn’t look up. I didn’t need to. Those screams told me how close the bipeds were—and how many of them were now hunting us.
The maelstrom grew stronger. Donal stopped and spun around so abruptly that I ran straight into his chest. His arms went around me even as he grunted at the impact and, a heartbeat later, we were wrenched sideways at speed. This time, there was no gossamer cloud to hide us; I guessed it would have been pointless given the night was clear and bright. A lone cloud would have been very obvious.
The guttural screams followed our departure, as did several globules. They hit the turbulent air surrounding us and were sent flying straight back at the bipeds, who scrambled left and right to avoid being hit.
But the ground below was alive with movement; the bipeds had come out of their crater in numbers. And while they might not be able to match the wind for speed, they were still damn fast.
The knife’s heat increased abruptly, her light so bright sunbeams poured from the sheath. I wrenched the blade free; while the runes were glowing gold, whips of red were once again crawling down its length.
Magic, coming in fast.
But from where?
As if in answer, a glowing orb of yellow-green appeared, trailing sparks behind it as closed in on us. The wind jagged us sideways with such force that it dragged a gasp from my lips. The orb shot past and slowly arced back down to the ground.
More orbs appeared. The wind kept zigzagging, but the scent of sweat was now stinging the air and moisture was trickling down Donal’s face.
As we were snapped left once again, two orbs came in from the right. I slashed at the closest and, as the blade sliced through it, the whips of red leapt onto the surface of the orb, quickly encasing and then consuming it. When it was nothing but dust, the whips leapt back to the blade.
The magic in this knife had definitely been designed for defense—and against this type of magic. It briefly made me wonder just what the King’s Sword had been designed to do.
The orbs continued to chase us across the night sky, but we were slowly gaining distance on the horde, and they no longer provide an immediate threat. Which was good, because the sting of sweat was stronger and Donal was now shaking.
And I very much suspected it was more than just the effort of controlling the air. “Are you okay?”
His gaze met mine. “No.”
“Then put us down—”
“Not until I absolutely have to.” There was a grim determination in both his voice and his expression. “We need more distance between us and them—at the rate they run, they’ll catch us in hours.”
“Driving yourself to the point of exhaustion isn’t going to help, Donal.”
“It’s not exhaustion. One of the goddamn orbs hit me.”
“What? Damn it, highlander, put us down so I can check—”
“No,” he said. “Now shut up and let me concentrate.”
“Goddamn stubborn man,” I muttered. “If you suddenly lose unconsciousness and drop us from this height, I’m going to make your afterlife hell.”
Amusement crinkled the corners of his eyes, momentarily blotting out the gathering pain. “Well, if I’m going to be haunted by anyone, I can’t say I’d be unhappy for it to be you.”
“That is not exactly reassuring.”
“What part of be quiet and let me concentrate did you not understand?”
I grinned. “You’re the one that keeps answering me.”
This time, he didn’t bite. We continued on through the night and gradually left the bipeds and their glowing orbs far behind. As the first hints of dawn appeared on the distant horizon, we finally started losing both speed and height. I glanced down. The ground was littered with prickly cacti and tumbleweeds, and was scattered with rocks, both small and large. There was no water anywhere that I could see and nothing moving. If anything other than the bipeds lived in these lands, then they were either seeing out the night underground or were so small that
they simply weren’t visible from this height.
We began dropping at a faster rate. Donal was soaked in sweat and his entire body shook. But his eyes were narrowed and his expression determined. He was not going to lose control, no matter what the cost to him personally.
The ground grew closer and our speed lessened, until there were little more than a few yards separating us from the ground. Then the wind and Donal’s strength gave out, and we dropped like stones. We hit feet first, and hard enough to jar my spine. Then Donal collapsed backward with a wheeze and dragged me down with him.
“Sorry, sorry,” he said, his voice hoarse and filled with pain.
I rolled off him and scanned his length for the wound, but given how close he’d been holding me, it would have to be on either his limbs or his back. “Where were you hit?”
He didn’t answer, just rolled slightly to the left. My eyes went wide. The wound was on his right butt cheek, close to his hip, and had to be a good hand’s width in size. The orb had eaten down through his clothes and was now tearing into his flesh with tendrils of green-gold, creating an open sore that bled profusely.
If it got any deeper, it would expose bone.
I closed my eyes for a heartbeat, trying to control the surge of horror. This wasn’t going to be fixed by anything we had in our medikits.
“Do something, Princess. I don’t care what, just stop this goddamn pain.”
I hesitated and then dragged out my knife. The runes flared to life again and the red tendrils of energy slipped down to the blade’s point, as if in readiness.
“I’m going to try and counter the orb’s magic with the knife’s,” I said. “It might hurt.”
“It can’t possibly hurt any more than it already is,” he growled. “Just do it, Nyx. Please.”
I hesitated again and then carefully pressed the knife’s point into the wound—into the very heart of the pulsing mess of yellow-green that was eating his flesh.
