"Where do you want me?" she asked Parathe as he sent the last man on his way.
The general shook his head. "I need to keep you safe," he said. "I don't know any of these people, and they don't know me. If they listen to you, I have to make sure you don't come to any harm."
Asha grimaced, but accepted the general's logic with a reluctant nod.
Parathe turned to the man at his right. "Hael. Give the Shadows the order."
Asha stiffened at the familiar name. This was Hael - the man from Erran's vision? In the back of her mind, she suddenly wondered where the Augurs were in all this. She watched the middle-aged man as he signalled to two Shadows standing at the back of the Shield. He looked no different to, nor more threatening than, any of the other soldiers along the wall.
She turned her attention to the Shadows he had motioned to. Each held long, thin white rods; at Hael's gesture they pointed the Vessels at opposite sides of the pass and closed their eyes.
Two lines of light burst into existence, molten streams of twisted energy pulsing along the smoothly cut walls of Fedris Idri, throwing everything into sharp relief. For a moment everything paused; even Asha, who had been expecting it, was shocked at the sudden brightness.
She looked over towards the edge of the Shield, now able to see the black-armoured men as they scrambled over the parapet. She shivered as she took in the unsettling, eyeless helmets - and then her stomach churned as she recognised the design etched onto the front of them.
It was the symbol she'd seen on the side of Davian's neck, that night he had appeared in her room. The one that had been cut into his skin.
She gave the attackers her full attention now. In the distance, atop the First Shield, she could see more of the Blind standing amongst the Andarran corpses that were littered across it. These ones had no helmets, though.
They just... stood there, motionless. Watching.
"Asha?"
The familiar voice interrupted her thoughts, and she tore her gaze away with a shiver to see Wirr kneeling beside a wounded man only a few feet away, staring at her in surprise. Her friend let the last traces of Essence vanish into the man's newly-healed side, then stood, hurrying over to her. "What are you doing here?" he asked, concern in his tone.
A long horn blast echoed along the wall, the signal Parathe had arranged for the Shadows to attack.
The area in front of the Second Shield exploded into a cauldron of light, wind and fire.
The soldiers along the top of the Shield stopped as one, watching in awe as the pass below vanished under wreaths of thick, swirling smoke, which flickered an ominous red with the light of the fierce flames beneath. Several men covered their ears as shrieks of power ripped through the night, bolts of Essence sizzling down from the Second Shield into the maelstrom.
A thunderous gust of wind suddenly swept down, catching up the black-clad men clambering over the wall and casting them back out into space like rag dolls. Asha watched as they vanished, screaming, into the cloud of crimson smoke. She spotted one or two holding on and flicked her wrist at them; they sailed off into the air like the others as Wirr looked on, frozen to the spot, open-mouthed.
"Prince Torin!" It was Parathe, shouting over the cacophony that still thundered around the pass. "The Shadows look to have things under control for the time being. Get some rest!"
Wirr glanced around, spotting the group of Shadows that had joined the Gifted and had started healing some of the wounded. He sagged with visible relief and for the first time, Asha realised just how pale and drawn he looked. She didn't know how many people he'd healed, but it was evident he'd pushed himself to the brink.
Even so, Wirr looked about to protest before eventually giving a reluctant nod. "You fetch me if I'm needed!" he yelled to Parathe. He threw a questioning glance at Asha, but she shook her head, indicating that she was going to stay. She was needed up here.
Wirr gave her a tired smile, squeezing her arm in farewell before joining a trail of weary soldiers limping down the stairs.
Soon the initial thunder of the Shadows' attack quietened, and an eerie hush descended on the smoke-filled pass. The silence was still broken by an occasional ear-piercing shriek as one or another of the Shadows fired bolts of energy into the chaos below, but the ringing in Asha's ears slowly faded.
Finally confident that the Blind had broken off their attack, she crept forward to the edge of the Shield, peering down. Smoke still obscured some of the gap between the First and Second Shields, but enough was visible to know that the Blind had withdrawn, regrouping atop the First Shield and out of range of the Shadows' weapons.
There were plenty of bodies below, but her stomach lurched as she realised that few of the ones she could see were clad in black. Either the Blind had dragged away their dead, or - more ominously - not many of those who had been blasted off the Second Shield had been killed by the fall.
"We've pushed them back for now," said Parathe as he joined her at the parapet. He stared down into the smoke-filled pass below, his expression pensive. "Those flames are too hot even for them to get through, I suspect... but there's only stone down there. Nothing that will burn of its own accord."
Asha gave a thoughtful nod. "If we rotate fresh people onto those Vessels every so often, we should be able to keep the fires going indefinitely," she said in response to the implied query.
Parathe exhaled, a relieved sound. "Thank the fates," he said. "If you hadn't arrived when you did...."
He was silent for a few moments, then clapped her gently on the shoulder. "I'm heading down to check how everyone is faring below, but stay alert. If you see anything, have someone fetch me. You've given us an advantage, but these El-cursed Blind don't strike me as the type to give up. It's not over yet. Not even close," he concluded, gazing through the shimmering red haze towards the First Shield.
Asha watched as Parathe walked away, wondering if the general knew exactly how true those words really were.
"Not even close," she repeated quietly.
***
Wirr flinched as another shriek of power cut the air, echoing off the walls of Fedris Idri.
He glanced back up towards the top of the Second Shield, swaying a little as exhaustion threatened to get the better of him. He knew he needed to sit down, to rest, but already the screams of the dying were beginning to weigh on him. Even with the Shen Gifted and the Shadows still on the wall, he was one of only a handful of people who could truly help the wounded.
"I wonder how long they can keep that up," came a voice from behind him.
Wirr turned to see Davian following his gaze upward. His friend looked haggard, but uninjured.
"Davian!" He embraced the black-haired boy in relief. "I lost track of you. I didn't know...."
Davian gave him a tired grin. "Can't say it wasn't a near thing, but I'm okay. And Aelric and Dezia are, too; they're around here somewhere. We all fell back after the Shadows... did what they did." He shook his head dazedly at the memory, as if still unwilling to believe what had just transpired.
Wirr knew exactly how he felt; he was still trying to comprehend the implications of Shadows apparently being able to use Vessels. "Did you see Asha?" he asked.
Davian frowned. "She's here?"
Wirr was about to reply when he spotted his father approaching, walking alongside a fatigued-looking General Parathe. Wirr gave his father a weary smile, and the two embraced.
"My father," he explained to Davian after stepping back again. "And General Parathe."
Davian shook hands awkwardly. "Pleased to meet you, general. Your Grace."
The duke gave an absent nod, though his eyes were still fixed on the top of the Second Shield. "And you, Davian. Torin has told me all about you," he said. "We have much to discuss once this is all over."
Wirr smiled when he saw Davian's expression. "He really does just mean a discussion, Dav - nothing sinister. I promise."
"Of course," said Davian quickly, though Wirr could still see a hint of ner
vousness in his nod. Wirr turned to Parathe. "How are they doing up there, general?"
"Well enough, for now," said Parathe. "The Shadows say they can do what they're doing indefinitely. It at least buys us some time." He hesitated, casting a cautious glance at the duke. "And perhaps if the king changes his mind...."
"No. No chance." Elocien shook his head. "If anything, my brother is worse. I spoke to him not an hour ago, told him we were being beaten back. He still won't take action. I suspect he'll let the city burn before he lets the Gifted fight, in his current state." He rubbed his forehead. "I shudder to think what he'll do when he hears about the Shadows."
Parathe looked sick at the news, but nodded. "We'll just have to manage with what we -"
Two bodies landed with a crashing of armour against stone, not twenty feet from where they stood.
All four men stared in shock for a moment, then as one turned their gaze upward as panicked shouts began echoing along the Second Shield.
Wirr squinted against the bright light shining down from the walls of the pass. The sporadic flashes from the Shadows' weapons had stopped; there was plenty of motion atop the Shield, but he couldn't tell what was going on at this distance. No-one had sounded the retreat, and there were too many men atop that wall to have been overwhelmed so suddenly.
Yet without warning, another two pairs of screaming men plummeted from the sky, crashing to their deaths against the floor of the pass.
"Fates," muttered Parathe. He turned to a nearby soldier, who was looking in horror at the motionless bodies. "Nihk. Find out what in fates is going on up there."
The soldier nodded, taking two steps towards the Shield.
Then he spun, sword out and flashing. The man who had been standing guard next to him cried out in alarm, but he was too slow. Nihk's blade embedded itself in his skull with a sickening, wet crunch.
The next few moments passed as if they were minutes.
Everyone stared in frozen, stunned horror as Nihk wrenched his blade free. Then Parathe and two of the other guards went for their swords. Nihk turned to the general, lips curled back in a rictus of rage as he leapt, sword outstretched, its connection with Parathe's chest inevitable.
And then the blade had vanished from Nihk's hands, and reappeared through his neck with Davian holding the hilt.
Nihk slumped to the ground, eyes glassy as blood spurted onto the stone.
Parathe stood frozen, his hand on his hilt. "Thank-you," he said to Davian, dazed. "But how -"
"No time." Davian gestured.
Wirr turned to where he was pointing, suddenly aware of how close the surprised shouts of the men had become. He stared around in dismay.
Andarran defenders everywhere were turning on each other; soldiers were drawing their swords and lunging at their comrades, apparently heedless of any harm they might come to themselves. Duels were breaking out all along the pass, men defending themselves desperately against those who moments ago had been their allies. In less than thirty seconds, the relative calm between the Second and Third Shields had descended into chaos.
"We've been betrayed," said Parathe, his voice hollow.
Wirr found himself shaking his head as he briefly replayed Nihk's attack, remembering the man's dead eyes.
"No. I've seen this before." He turned to Parathe. "They're called Echoes, general. I don't know a lot about it, but the Blind are controlling them, somehow."
"They're not doing this of their own volition?" Parathe gave Wirr a hopeful look. "Is there any way to snap them out of it?"
Wirr grimaced. "No. It's not them any more," he said reluctantly. "Anyone who's an Echo is already dead. Tell your men not to hesitate."
"He's right." It was Davian, who was staring at the nearest Echoes with a perturbed expression. "I can't Read them. They're just... empty," he finished, shivering.
Parathe gave Davian an uneasy glance, then turned back to Wirr. "Are you certain about this, Your Highness?"
"Quite." Wirr extended a hand as one of the Echoes nearby made straight for their group. There wasn't much left in his Reserve after all the healing he'd performed, but it was enough.
A bolt of white light sped from his fingertips, blasting the man he'd spotted backward.
"They're dead," he repeated grimly in response to the surprised look of the others. "Or at least no longer human. I wouldn't have been able to do that, otherwise."
Parathe looked sick. "We have to fall back to the Third Shield," he concluded in a heavy tone. Before he could give the order though, Parathe's second-in-command, Hael, rushed through the fighting towards them.
“Sir,” he gasped to Parathe. “The enemy have taken the harbour and the Lower District. They’re pressing us hard, trying to get to the Third Shield. If they reach it, we'll be trapped.”
Parathe paled. “How is that possible?” he demanded.
“No-one knows, sir. Only that they’re inside the walls. We need to fall back if we hope to defend the Upper District.”
Parathe didn't hesitate. "You're right. There's no way we can fight the Blind if they're coming at us from both sides." He cursed. “Sound the retreat, Hael. We'll regroup at the palace.”
Parathe turned to Elocien. "We need the El-cursed Gifted, Northwarden. No two ways about it,” he said, his expression grim. “The palace is the strongest defensible position in the city, but even with the Shadows I don't know how long we'll be able to hold it.”
A horn blast sounded the retreat, and the Essence lighting the pass abruptly blinked out. Suddenly Wirr froze, glancing up at the top of the Second Shield, where the chaos sounded worst.
"What is it?" Davian asked, seeing his expression.
"Asha is up there."
Davian was moving before Wirr realised what was happening.
He sprinted after his friend; they made it almost halfway to the stairs before two armour-clad Echoes stepped into their path.
"I don't have any Essence left, Dav," Wirr warned. He saw Davian hesitating. "They're not human any more. Trust me."
Davian nodded silently. He stretched out his hand as the Echoes closed in on them.
For a moment nothing happened. Then one of the attackers roared, knees buckling as a line of pulsing Essence appeared between him and Davian. The man's face seemed to... whither, as if it were aging at an incredible rate; his skin became sallow before finally disintegrating, leaving only a fine white dust that drifted, smoke-like in the wind.
The second Echo hadn't paused in his wild rush towards them; Davian turned to face him, releasing the Essence he'd drawn. It wasn't a bolt though, as Wirr would have expected, but something... thinner. Harder.
The energy sped towards their attacker, taking him in the neck and slicing clean through. The soldier's head bounced grotesquely on the ground towards them, carried by his momentum.
Neither boy moved for a moment.
"So... I see you can use Essence now, too," said Wirr, a little out of breath as they stepped over the decapitated body and pressed forward.
Davian nodded, eyes fixed on the way ahead. "As long as I don't draw too much at once," he muttered, more to himself than to Wirr. Wirr didn't understand the comment, but Davian didn't elaborate and there was no time to ask about it.
They managed to avoid further confrontation until they reached the top of the Second Shield, where they were once again brought to an abrupt halt. This time four Echoes stood in their way, not moving yet, but their dead eyes focused on the two boys.
"I don't think I can take them all. I'm tired, and it's getting harder and harder to use kan," said Davian as he drew his sword, his tone grim. "But I'm not leaving her. I -"
The Echoes sailed clear over the parapet, spinning away to crash to their deaths on the hard stone below.
Davian and Wirr both flinched back; when they looked up again, Asha was hurrying through the space where the Echoes had just been.
"You need to get out of here," she said bluntly as soon as she saw them. "Follow me. I don't have a lot l
eft in my Reserve, but it should be enough to get us back to the Third Shield."
She slipped past them without waiting for a response.
Davian exchanged a vaguely rueful glance with Wirr, and then the two of them turned and hurried after her.
Asha cleared their path twice more before they reached the temporary refuge of the Third Shield. Wirr's father was waiting for them there, a clearly anxious Parathe and Hael standing by the duke's side.
Elocien nodded his relief to Wirr, and without a word the group headed towards the city. As they emerged from Fedris Idri though, Parathe held up a hand, bringing them to an abrupt halt.
He frowned, cocking his head to one side.
“I don’t hear any fighting,” he realised. “We should have been able to -”
He cut off mid-sentence with a choking sound, eyes wide with pain.
Behind him Hael stepped away, the dagger in his hand dripping blood. He bared his teeth, eyes glazed as Parathe dropped to the ground, dead before he hit the cobblestones.
Before anyone could react he leapt forward towards a paralysed Wirr, dagger lashing out in slow motion.
It all happened in a moment. Elocien roared as he leapt in front of his son, taking the blade squarely in the stomach. Davian, who had been several strides ahead with Asha, was suddenly there and ramming his sword through Hael's chest. Both Elocien and Hael crumpled to the ground, the former moaning in pain, the latter twitching once and laying still.
Wirr finally found the ability to move; he dropped to his knees beside his gasping father, pressing his hands in vain against the fountain of blood pumping from Elocien's rent flesh. He closed his eyes. Healing a wound this severe would take a lot of Essence; he would need to use everything he had left. He just hoped it would be enough.
“No, Torin.” Flecks of foamy blood appeared at the corner of the duke’s mouth, but his tone was firm, even at a whisper. “No healing.”
The Shadow Of What Was Lost (Book 1) Page 64
