City of Steel (Chaos Awakens Book 3)

by Heath Pfaff

  He began his task quickly. The Unth bodies were heavier than normal human ones. He guessed it had to do with their strange crystal growths, but whatever the cause he spent a huge amount of effort getting the bodies moved. That left the blood. There was a lot of blood. He had part of a shirt to try and clean it up with. Damn the Unth for not wearing clothing.

  Haley must have been watching him because she spoke up from the ground. “I have some spare clothes in my pack. You can use them too.”

  “Thank you.” Xandrith said, running over to Haley. He had to partially lift her to get her pack off. She winced a bit, but she didn’t look like she was going to die in the immediate future. Xandrith took the spare cloth and set to work on cleaning up the blood. It didn’t take him long, though he wasn’t positive he’d got it all. Trolls would be able to smell it, and the crystal spikes were still protruding from the ground. He’d done the best he could do, though. The sounds of an army on the move were beginning to echo down from above. The Unth defense had failed, and the troll army was on its way.

  The assassin crossed quickly to Haley. He bent down and scooped her up in his arms. She wrapped an arm around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder. “My white knight.” She said softly.

  Xandrith chuckled. “No one has ever called me that before.” He carried her into the more hidden of the two passages and laid her on the bench before sitting next to her.

  “I should get up.” Haley said, but Xan put a hand on her shoulder to hold her in place. “I’ll help you up before it’s time. Take a moment. We have to wait for them to get down here, this is probably the last peaceful moment we’ll ever have. Try to enjoy it.”

  Haley sighed. “It would be easier to enjoy if I didn’t have a hole in my stomach.”

  Xandrith gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Unfortunately we don’t get to have our say in how we spend our last moments. The most we can do is make the best of what death comes to deliver.”

  Haley was quiet for a moment before answering. “We’re really going to die, aren’t we?”

  Xandrith swallowed a lump in his throat. “Yeah, probably.”

  “I’m scared.” Haley confessed.

  “Me too.” Xandrith admitted. The sound of the army above echoed down the pit, louder still. The trolls had arrived.

  Chapter 11

  The Fall of Shadows

  Voices drifted into the small room where Xandrith and Haley lay in wait. The assassin had taken up a position at the edge of the doorway where the shadows were deepest, and he peered out into the pit beyond. The light glowing from the Wellspring clearly highlighted the first of those to exit the walkway out into the open area. He was dressed in a dark outfit with a stubby, wide sword strapped sideways across the small of his back. Xandrith knew enough about the bonesteel blades to recognize the make of the weapon. He was one of the Templar.

  Haley crouched at his side, sweat running down her brow as she fought her pain. She looked at the first man down, and then at Xandrith questioningly. She wanted to know if she should break the binding on his weapon. Xan held up his hand and shook his head no. It wasn’t time yet. If they started too soon the other Templar might not come down into view, and then they would have a problem.

  The next person down the flight of stairs was Kassa. Xandrith didn’t even need to see her face to recognize her. Her silhouette was enough to immediately send a shock of despair through the assassin. She was still wearing the dagger on her hip. The weapon was there. That was one less thing they had to worry about, though her presence had an undeniable effect on the assassin’s state of mind. He found it difficult to keep his mind focused on the task at hand, but he forced himself to concentrate.

  Two more Templar followed Kassa down, and then came someone that Xandrith had done his best to forget about. Elder Shidsane walked quickly away from the stairs and across to the Wellspring, his eyes seeing nothing but the source of power before him. The trolls had brought him along to unlock the Wellspring. Killing him might be another way Xandrith could stop the god-thing from obtaining the locked away power, or to at least slow down the process.

  Xandrith drew his Unth blade from his back scabbard and waited for the rest of those coming down the walkway into the pit to arrive. He wanted to know exactly what he and Haley had to deal with before he made a commitment to action. He knew there would be no second chances. Death loomed over them all, filling the skyline of the future for as far as Xandrith could see. He’d long since given up hope that he might find a way to escape from this situation alive. He only hoped that he would succeed in his quest to end the troll god, and possibly leave Haley alive when it was all done. He knew that was asking a lot under the circumstances.

  A shadow of motion distracted the assassin from his dark thoughts. Another figure walked down the stairs, this one dressed in black robes that covered it from head to toe. Xan was immediately aware that this thing was different despite its plain attire. This wasn’t a troll, or a knight, this was the god-thing. It radiated power, and as it stepped within the light of the Wellspring it seemed to swell and become larger. It was already feeding on the magic in the air.

  Two more Templars followed it down the stairs, and that was it. There were no other steps from the walkway. The trolls had been left above. Xandrith breathed a sigh of relief. They’d probably feared the trolls might interfere with the proceedings that were supposed to take place. Trolls were rather untrustworthy, destructive creatures.

  “Open the Wellspring.” Kassa’s voice snapped with an unearthly authority. She was talking to Shidsane. The old mage jumped at the words, shaking in his robes. Apparently his time with the trolls had shaken his resolve to a degree. Xandrith found himself a little pleased at the man’s obvious discomfort. He really hated that old bastard.

  “Of course, My Lord.” Shidsane’s voice was full of fear. “It will take me just a moment. The magic of the lock is human, but it’s in a dialect I’ve never seen. It’s old, but I will be through it soon.” It was clear he was terrified of what might happen to him if he failed. Xandrith almost wanted to watch and see if that would happen. Almost.

  “Hurry.” Kassa issued the order in that voice that both was and wasn’t hers. It soured Xandrith’s mood at seeing Shidsane in misery. Seeing her worn like a costume turned his stomach and brought a painful pressure to his chest. It was time to do what they’d come for.

  He turned to Haley and placed a hand on her arm. When she looked over at him he mouthed word “now.” She nodded once. Xandrith stood up and set off into the pit. Whatever would come to follow, the time for hesitation had passed.

  Two of the Templar were talking on the far side of the hole, their voices carrying across the echoing chamber. Xandrith only half listened as he slunk from the shadows and began to creep across the open space towards Shidsane. He was out in the open, but no one was looking at him yet.

  “I’m surprised none of the Unth stayed behind to defend this place. It looks like they’ve fought for it before.” The knight commented, gingerly touching the crystal that had penetrated Haley’s abdomen.

  “That is curious.” Another said. “They fought hard enough at the city limits. I thought we were going to run out of trolls before we got through them.” The man joked, chuckling. “Not that I would mind running out of trolls.” The man’s laughter suddenly stopped, his eyes going wide. He snapped his mouth shut, confusion spreading across his features.

  Haley had just freed him.

  Kassa’s head snapped in the man’s direction, her black eyes wide and terrible. “Kill him!” She yelled, pointing at the knight who’d just been freed. Somehow she’d known, and she’d known quickly. Chaos exploded in the pit as the Templar still under the command of the troll god sprung to the attack.

  Xandrith flipped his knife in his hand with the intent of throwing it, but as everyone started to move he realized the situation was too volatile. Once the knife left his hand it would be out of his control. Instead, he charged at Shidsane. The man was just
turning to look and see what the disturbance on the other side of the room was about when Xan reached him. He didn’t even see the assassin until it was too late. Xandrith slid his finger across the black gem on the Unth weapon and the blade hummed to life in his palm. He reversed his grip and slammed it into Shidsane’s throat as the man looked at him with eyes wide and full of terror.

  “I’m not going to lie.” Xandrith whispered in his ear. “This feels really good.” He wrenched the knife across the man’s neck and pulled back on his head, ripping it from his body. It was perhaps excessive, but he wasn’t going to take any chances.

  A heavy footfall just behind him was the only warning he got that he was about to be attacked. Xandrith dropped the severed head and rolled to the ground, spinning back up to his feet. His injured leg protested the abuse with a generous dose of pain. Kassa was standing where he’d been just a moment before. She had the bone knife Xandrith needed in one hand and she was standing at the ready, just as he would have been in her place.

  “Kassa, please. I don’t want to fight you. Just give me the knife and ...” His words trailed off as she sprung towards him.

  She closed the space between them in less than a second, leading with the bone knife and using Xandrith’s own style of combat. She was fast, and unnaturally powerful. The assassin countered the attacks as they came in, blocking some, turning others aside. Kassa’s style was so similar to his own that it felt like sparring with the masters that had taught him the techniques. Of course, the difference was that Kassa knew all the small nuances he’d added to the combat styles, and she was working them to full effect.

  Across the pit a huge battle had broken out between the Templar still bound to their weapons, and the ones Haley was freeing. She seemed to be slowing down as she went, probably from the effort involved in breaking the spells. Xandrith barely had time to notice as Kassa was demanding nearly all of his attention. Fighting her was like fighting a mirror of himself, but one that was somehow a clearer and faster image. The assassin was worn out. He’d been through too much, had too little rest, and taken too many injuries. Kassa was fighting at the top of her game and possibly even beyond that, fueled by the god-thing that watched over them, seemingly indifferent to their struggles.

  “Killing Shidsane has only delayed the inevitable.” Kassa said as she launched into another flurry of attacks. Xandrith parried and countered what came his way, but he was reaching his limits. Each counter with his bad leg sent a shiver of pain through his body that threatened to cripple him. “The Wellspring will give up its power in time.”

  Xandrith blocked a direct thrust from the knife and attempted to use the momentum from the blow to turn Kassa’s arm out wide. She surprised him and fell into the motion, using her own body weight and Xan’s attack to drive him hard into the ground. It was a superbly executed maneuver, and one that took a subtle alteration of Xan’s style to achieve. He couldn’t break the fall, and he was in no position to turn it to his advantage.

  She bore down on the bone knife with all of her weight as they landed. Xandrith’s right wrist dislocated trying to keep the blade from his chest, but there was nothing he could do. He felt the knife clatter against his ribs as it slid upward between them and tore deep into his right lung. The pain was horrible, and the shock was equally devastating. Xandrith kicked at Kassa, trying to break her hold on him, but she refused to move. She was adjusting her grip on the knife, getting ready to pull it out, but Xandrith punched her in the face with his good hand as hard as he could. The hit knocked her back and gave him just enough room to build momentum and get to his feet, the bone knife hanging from his chest. He took a breath and felt blood trickling into his lung. That wasn’t good. He staggered backwards into the Wellspring, his legs barely holding strong enough for him to keep standing.

  Suddenly Haley was in front of him, her axe in one hand. She was standing between Xandrith and the puppet Kassa.

  “Don’t hurt him!” She yelled, a fierce edge in her voice.

  “Haley, you can’t interfere with this. I have the knife now. I’ll be alright.” Xandrith told her.

  “The knife is in your chest, Xan!” Haley snapped, not turning back to him. “That isn’t helping us.”

  A surge of cold swept through Xan and with it came a steady pulse of peculiar energy. The area around the knife in his chest was beginning to tingle. Xandrith wasn’t sure what was going on, but his legs felt stronger so he pushed himself to his feet. As his hand lay flat against the Wellspring, another wave of power flowed into him, and with it came a sudden surge of profound knowledge.

  The bone knife. It had never been meant to be used to kill the troll god. In fact, it probably couldn’t even do the job. The knife was a conduit. The other god-thing had known it would never be able to kill its own brother, but it had created a way that someone else might. When Kassa had plunged the knife into Xan’s chest, she’d inadvertently connected him to the Wellspring the dead god had created. He had locked the power away so his brother would have difficulty getting to it. Now that Shidsane was dead and unable to break the seals, Xandrith was open to the power and the troll god was not.

  Xandrith put a hand on Haley’s shoulder as more and more power began to flood through him. A pulse of light flared around Xandrith. The Wellspring was making him increasingly powerful, and flooding his mind with knowledge and the terrifying prospects of what could be done with this new power.

  “Haley, go back to the room we were hiding in.” Xandrith told her.

  She looked up at him in confusion, and then her mouth dropped open in shock. “Xan, your eyes are glowing.”

  “It’s going to be alright.” He told her and gave her a little press in the right direction. He touched her mind with a small amount of the magic, just the lightest caress of reassurance.

  Haley nodded, her eyes slackening. She marched back to the side room, and Xandrith turned his attention on Kassa. He could see the corruption riding in her, and the pool of existence that was once the woman he loved. What was left of her mind was broken and fragile. He didn’t have enough power or enough time to fix that yet, but he did have enough to set her free.

  Xandrith walked towards her and she drew a knife, ready to fight him again. He froze her in place with a single thought. He stepped close to her and placed his hand on her head. A pulse of power rippled through him and then through Kassa, and the darkness dispelled. Her black eyes cleared up, fluttered, and then she collapsed to the ground. She breathed steadily, but was almost completely empty. It pained Xandrith to see her that way, but he wasn’t finished.

  With a wave of his hand Xandrith dispelled the still fighting Templar across the pit, breaking their enchantments and rendering them unconscious. That left only him and the god-thing. It dropped the hood from its robes as he approached it.

  The god-thing was a four armed Cyclops, with a strangely wide mouth that seemed to take up far too much of its face. The assassin had seen its like before in the faces of the stone figures that had once guarded this creature’s long deceased brother. Apparently those things had been based on the gods that had created them, or at least based on the form the god-things had chosen to take in this world. Did they really have any definitive form? It had skin that was crystalline in nature and almost translucent, yet it was also textured like scales. Its eye was vast and red, streaked with a thousand subtle shades of the color that seemed to faintly glow as it observed the world. It was distinctly alien in every aspect. Even the way its limbs moved seemed strangely disjoined and unnatural, as though it had some form of musculature never meant for a real living thing. It was this obscene disregard for normal physicality that aided in the horror of its existence. By living it seemed to deny nature itself.

  “You have stolen my power.” Its voice was deep and gravely, but emotionless. “I must set right what the other has broken. That which begins must end.”

  Xandrith shook his head. “It isn’t our time.”

  “It has been your time for mille
nnia. Only the interference of the other has kept this world whole.” It heard Xandrith’s words, but it existed in a different place from Xandrith and humanity. It couldn’t see the damage it had wrought, or that it intended to unleash, but only the unending cycle of creation and destruction. There was a certain harmony to that process. Xandrith could feel the pull on him to continue that cycle. The magic of the Wellspring almost seemed to want to destroy as much as it wanted to create. It was powerful and intoxicating. The assassin could understand why the god-things had done all that they had done. He knew that if he didn’t work quickly, he too would lose himself to the magnitude of this vast power and its strange will.

  “Now it is your time.” Xandrith said quietly. He held up a hand and placed it on the god-thing’s chest.

  “I am beyond time.” It replied.

  Xandrith killed it the only way that it could be killed by something other than itself. He unmade it. He tore every piece of it from the fabric of reality, obliterating it so thoroughly that not even a residue of its existence would ever be found. The power this took would have been enough to make and unmake the world several times over, and Xandrith spent it all in a matter of seconds. In the end he stood alone, just himself, hand raised against nothing.

  The power was still strong within him. He had two more things to do before he could let it go. Two more things he had to do before he needed to give up the Wellspring before he became something worse than the troll god could have ever been. He knew the darkness within himself, and it held far greater potential for evil than the troll god could have even dreamed of. He worked quickly.

  A pulse of his will burned the trolls from the world. He sent the fire after them to the very depths of the deepest hives and back to the surface. Not a single one could be allowed to survive. Their kind were poison, and humanity would never be safe as long as they lived. The lack of effort that task took was terrifying to Xandrith, and yet it made his desire to hold onto the power grow even stronger. With the Wellspring inside of him he could create a world of perfection and happiness that would fulfill every wish he’d ever held. He could right the wrongs he’d committed and set all existence into harmony.