Two stars glittered ahead.
One enemy. Good odds, in normal circumstances. But he'd seen the damage these monsters could do, and the memory of the Starwatch sentinels falling to a sudden attack was still fresh. The veil of growing darkness peeled back to reveal an Aredian man wielding a weathered ax, an intricately carved pendant dangling around his neck.
Neff? Stonewall's heart skidded to a halt, but there was no time to dwell on the possibility. His sword rested in his grip; its weight was a steady presence that helped him focus as his enemy approached. In hindsight, Stonewall realized that he'd known what was coming. It was why he'd chosen the weapon that sentinels were supposed to draw only when they meant to take a life. Daggers would do little damage against a demon.
Or in this case, demons.
More stars appeared in the twilight around them. Barely a heartbeat passed before three more pairs of star-bright eyes appeared, floating toward Stonewall and Kalinda before materializing into human forms. The new demons were Canderi: fair-haired, with broad shoulders and burning eyes that were somehow devoid of life; all three carried the huge claymore swords of their kin. All told, Stonewall counted three men and one woman. The Canderi joined the Aredian, and the four demons moved together, fluid as a flock of birds on the wind.
Four against one. Stonewall would not walk away from this fight. His oath settled over him like armor: Honor. Service. Sacrifice.
So be it.
The creatures were about twenty steps away; he tossed the reins to the mage. “Get out of here.”
The horse jerked her head in alarm, but Kalinda held her in place. “Come with me!”
“I'll give you time to get away.” He eased his body into a ready stance. “But you have to go. Now.”
He did not hear if she made a reply, for the demons fell upon him.
Like most sentinels, Stonewall had been in combat training for most of his life. As such, his mind knew when to step back and allow his body the freedom to move without thinking, relying on instincts honed finer than any blade. He settled into the fight easily, not because it was an easy fight, but because this was his place in the One's world.
The four attackers descended in perfect harmony. The first, a male Canderi with a scar across his cheek, lifted his claymore and sliced downward. The blade arced in the dim air, but met steel and hematite. The sound rang brightly in the darkness. The shock of the impact rattled Stonewall's arms and shoulders, but before any pain registered, his body had whirled to face the female Canderi as she prepared to spring.
The horse snorted. The raiders looked at Kalinda – who had still not fled – so Stonewall hurled a few choice expletives and lunged forward, hoping to draw their attention. He was lucky; they were distracted just enough for him to get a strike in on the second of the two males, a fellow with hair so long it hung to halfway to his arse. Stonewall's blade bit into the Canderi's upper arm, and the man jerked back, shrieking.
The scream tore through Stonewall's head and made his skin crawl. No, this creature could not possibly be mortal. A primal, thudding terror filled him, and it took more effort than it should have to ignore the urge to flee that horrific noise. Even so, Neff slid away, out of Stonewall's field of vision as the three Canderi turned to him and their eyes seemed to burn brighter, somehow. When they attacked again, they attacked as one.
Claymores sang through the air as they reached for Stonewall. He ducked out of the way and struck with his sword. The tip of his blade skimmed over something solid – hopefully flesh. The male with the scar screamed again, that same high-pitched shriek like nothing else Stonewall had ever heard before this journey. Tor willing, he would never hear it again.
Twilight fell on all sides, but the burning light of the demons' eyes revealed where each one moved through the growing darkness. As they closed in, he noted that the hilts of their weapons were wrapped in cloth. No time to wonder about that, though, because all three attackers angled for him again. He tightened his grip on his sword and took another deep breath.
Three...?
From someplace behind him, Kalinda screamed.
SEVENTEEN
Moments ago...
The Aredian man broke free of the Canderi and lunged for Kali.
Maybe she should have run, but she refused to leave Stonewall to the fate he seemed to crave. As long as she could help, he would not face their enemies alone. Rested and free of hematite, it was easy for her to sense the Aredian man's particles. Not so easily, she fought to bend them to her will, thinking only, Stop!
Not the bravest sentiment, but Kali was no warrior. As she looked down, the man's star-bright eyes dimmed, just for a moment. His hand had been outstretched; now he jerked it back as if he'd been stung. Was this Neff? Judging by the carved pendant he wore about his neck, she thought so, but it was impossible to say for certain. If the lines on his face were any indication, he was in his mid-life. His messy hair was light brown, his cheeks coated with the beginnings of a beard. He held his palm to his face, brows drawn together as if in confusion.
But a respite was fleeting. Neff ducked his head. When he looked at her again, his eyes shone stronger than before, but there was no true light of life within them. There was nothing she recognized.
Kali's stomach dropped and she urged herself further into concentration. She had no weapon but her magic. There could be no doubt, nor distraction; both were akin to defeat. She could not lose this fight. Stop!
Magic coiled within her, around her, through her. It expanded, as a seed filled with water waited for the touch of the sun. Kali was a conduit, a vessel; she was the creator of this magic and its audience all at once.
But as magic demanded her attention, the rest of the world continued on, such that she almost missed the crackle of footsteps on the leaves. Something heavy struck her leg and led to a sliding hand that gripped her upper thigh. Her concentration shattered as Neff pulled her from the saddle and threw her to the dirt. Her head struck something hard and her vision went spotty as pain blossomed through her skull.
Before Kali could do more than blink, an ax descended. She shrieked and rolled to the side; the impact of the blade trembled the cold ground. Someone shouted her name, but she had no time for anything but survival as she scrambled to her feet, ignoring her knee's protests.
But whatever Neff had become was swift. The moment she was upright, he slammed his open palm against the side of her face, strong enough to fling her to her back to the ground, where her weak left knee caught the brunt of the impact and the tang of blood filled her mouth. Light from Neff's eyes cast shifting, dancing shadows around as Kali struggled to get away. Neff grabbed her cloak and jerked her around to face him, screaming directly in her ear before wrapping a strong hand around her wrist, holding her in place. Fear and pain tore her focus to shreds. Dimly, she caught footsteps again, and the whistle of a blade through the dark.
“Kalinda!”
Stonewall's voice, filled with fear. She was not alone. The understanding pushed back some of her own terror and called her to action. Kali threw her hands up, but it was not to shield her face.
Stop!
With the ax inches from her hands, she released the magic that she had built inside of her. Time lagged again, allowing her to see with clarity if not comprehension. Rust began to speckle the head before it bloomed across the blade, spreading quickly until the head crumbled into dust. Both Kali and Neff gaped at the space where the ax had been, until he let loose another of those piercing, inhuman cries that struck the chord of some ancient terror within her heart. Burning eyes turned her way, blinding her. He screamed again...
But the starlight dimmed as his eyes lidded. What light had been in Neff's eyes faded completely as his face crumpled like a piece of discarded parchment. His skin shrank against his bones, as if a hundred years of life caught up with him at once. When his eyes met hers again, they were blue and cloudy and burned no more.
Then he frowned, utterly human in his confusion, and fell dead
at her feet.
“Kali!”
Power rushed through her veins. Strength filled her from the inside-out and her magic sang in triumph. Kali closed her eyes to better savor the song. Somewhere, steel rang out against steel and a man shouted, but they were small concerns in light of the heady flow of energy that pulsed beneath her skin.
There was nothing she could not do; even time became orderly once she set her mind to righting its ebb and flow. Kali took stock of her situation: her face and knee throbbed and she could still taste blood, but none of that mattered. Nothing could hold her back.
When she opened her eyes, the dapple-gray mare still danced nearby, and something of a plan coalesced. According to Stonewall's map, the White River was not far from here. Beyond it lay their destination, only a matter of leagues away at this point. She assessed her new found strength. It remained, thrumming wildly within her very being. She took a deep breath, and the song of magic swelled.
Kali smiled.
***
Moments ago...
Kalinda's cry broke Stonewall's concentration and made him look to where she knelt in the dirt, blood gleaming at her temple, Neff's ax bearing down upon her.
Stonewall's stomach dropped. He shouted her name, but the three demon-Canderi held him in place as they drove forward together. It was all he could do to keep his own head attached to his neck. The female Canderi swung. Stonewall ducked, but he was too slow, and she knocked his helmet away before striking again, though he blocked this strike with his own blade.
As he fought, he prayed. Tor keep her safe. I'll do anything if you keep her safe...
Would the gods help a heretic? Stonewall gritted his teeth and spun out of the claymores' reach to give himself a few seconds to breathe. He looked back at Kalinda in time to see how she'd thrown her hands up as if to shield her face from the ax. He called her name, but the twilight swallowed his voice.
One of the Canderi, the long-haired male that Stonewall had hit in the upper arm, took advantage of his distraction and struck at the side of his neck, where there was a gap in his armor. Stonewall ducked out of the way of the worst of it, but a red haze of pain swept across his vision anyway. Shit! Was that a vein? No time to worry; he could only keep moving. He would fight as long as he was able.
Long-Hair lunged again, joined by the female Canderi and the other male, whose face was scarred. Three foes; a pity Stonewall only had two hands. Stonewall pulled one of his daggers free to strike along with his sword. The sword bit into the female's side, but she only stumbled. The dagger, however, struck Long-Hair's throat, pushed deeper by the full weight of an armored sentinel behind the hilt. Windpipe severed, Long-Hair made a strangled noise and dropped his claymore as he collapsed to his knees, clawing at the dagger.
But Stonewall had moved on. He grabbed his second dagger and whirled to face the two remaining demons.
Then Kali called, “Stone, come on!”
His foolish heart leaped. Alive! How? He knocked the female Canderi back a few paces before slamming the pommel of his sword at Scar's forehead, then glanced in Kali's direction. “You should be gone already.”
“Not without you.”
There was only calm certainty in her voice, and it brought Stonewall a moment of equal clarity even as he struck the female Canderi again. Perhaps, he had a duty, but he also had no wish to sacrifice himself out here in the wilderness and leave Kali to make the rest of the journey alone. He wasn't ready to move onto his next life.
Both Canderi came at him, eyes like stars in the void. Stonewall tightened his grip on his sword and remaining dagger, preparing himself for a final attack – of a different kind – and called to Kali. “Get ready to run.”
“Come with me!”
“I am,” he grunted. slicing his dagger along the male Canderi's cheek even as he held the female back with his sword. “Just give me a sodding minute!”
If she made a reply, he missed it, for he had to focus on how to repel both attackers. Only one way came to mind. It was a desperate, foolish act that he would not have made had he only been trying to buy the mage some time, but right now it was the best option to save his own skin.
Stonewall shifted so that he could drop to a crouch and still avoid the Canderi. Had he been slower, he would have been open to a retaliating blow, but the gods were with him, and besides, there was no time for doubt. A roll along the hard-packed, cold ground sent him behind the demons, where he struck Scar with his dagger.
Speed and surprise served him well. The smaller, sharper blade bit into a patch of cloth near the Canderi's groin, where Scar's armor had fallen loose. Demon or not, the creature could still bleed. Scar let out an unholy shriek, but there was no time for fear, either. Stonewall ducked to avoid the female's claymore, but used his momentum to lash out at her right calf and hobble her with a deep cut.
Hoofbeats, right beside him; Kali had mounted again and brought the mare close to his position. Stonewall scrabbled upright, sheathed his sword, and swung himself in the saddle behind her. The dapple gray broke into a canter along the road they'd been traveling all day, and within moments, the forest gave way to a broad, open meadow.
“How far is it to the river?” she called back to him.
Stonewall tried to recall the directions that Riel and Jennet had given, but he couldn't focus through his residual battle-haze. “I don't know,” he admitted. “But the road should take us there.”
Another demon-wail pierced the growing darkness, followed by the sound of something large crashing through the forest. Both mage and sentinel twisted around to get a better look; sure enough, two sets of burning eyes followed them down the road.
“Didn't you stab them?” Kali asked, facing forward again.
Ea's tits and teeth! “Not well enough, I guess.”
“Is there a bridge?”
“Where?”
“At the fucking river, Stone! Do we have to ford it, or is there a bridge?”
He gritted his teeth to hold back his own sharp retort. “Aye, I think so.”
“Good enough for me.” With that, she urged the horse into a gallop.
New and old wounds burned in Stonewall's neck and shoulder but he ignored the pain as he tightened his calves around the mare's sides, and gripped the saddle for all he was worth. He prayed the road was free of holes, prayed the horse would not lose her footing, prayed she would be fast enough to outrun the unholy things gaining ground behind them. Sentinel and mage rocked in tandem to the rhythm of the horse's stride.
Within the forest, the world had grown darker and darker with the setting sun, but out here in the open there was more light. He caught the glimmer of water over slick rocks and a curving, wooden bridge: The White River.
“You have a plan?” he called as another scream tore through the darkness.
“Sort of.”
“Sort of?”
She leaned forward, hair loose and whipping around his face. “Just hang on, Stone.”
EIGHTEEN
Night had finally fallen. Beneath the cover of darkness, while Adrie, Cai and Marcen kept watch, Eris and Gideon crept to a forgotten corner of the bastion. The wall loomed high above their heads, blotting out the starry sky. Eris' skin crawled from being so close to the hematite-embedded stone. She never felt hematite's presence so strongly as when she stood beside these walls.
A soft squeak pulled her attention to a tangled mess of jessamin vines that climbed the stones. Gideon had peeled back the layers of thin vines to reveal an ancient iron gate, barely wide enough for one person to slip through. It was almost completely rusted, and pockmarked where chips of hematite had fallen out of the iron.
Gideon pressed his hand, not to the hematite lock, but to the top-most iron hinge on the left side. Beneath his touch, the rusty metal crumbled to dust. The gate shifted, squeaking again in protest, and the sound seemed to echo through the night.
“Careful,” Eris whispered.
Gid blew the rusty remnants away from the hinge
and winked at her. “Always.”
As he knelt to repeat the process with the lower hinge, Eris glanced around again. This part of the bastion was concealed by a thick overgrowth at the edge of the fruit trees. Only the rooftops of the mages' living quarters were visible through the branches. She couldn't make out her friends, but trusted they were close by.
“Ah, there we are,” Gideon said softly before turning to her again. “Help me.”
Old iron was heavier than it looked. The gate protested at being shifted, offering another piercing squeal when the mages moved it aside. Eris' heart hammered as she and Gid froze, waiting for the familiar tread of a sentinel. None came. The couple exchanged glances; Gid flashed her a nervous smile before they managed to – carefully – prop the gate open. Behind it, peering through stray jessamin vines, was a yawning void.
Eris' heart picked up its pace again. Beyond that void was freedom.
Hopefully.
Gideon exhaled in her ear. “Ready?”
She nodded. They slipped past the vines and into the gaping darkness. Once they closed the gate behind them, the tunnel swallowed them completely; the already distant light from within the bastion disappeared after a few steps. Gideon sought her hand and squeezed once as they walked slowly, feeling along the stone walls.
Gideon's luck held. The tunnel continued for some ways; hopefully, it would deposit them outside the wall. If not...well, they were no worse off.
“What is this place?” Eris could not help but ask. They'd all speculated at length, but no one had ever come up with a satisfactory answer. Perhaps she'd asked because she simply wanted to hear the sound of her own voice, or her that of husband.
“I don't know,” Gid replied. “I still say it was used in wartime, or for the sentinels to come in and out of the bastion secretly, without using the main gates.”
Catalyst Moon: Incursion (The Catalyst Moon Saga Book 1) Page 18
