Ivy stumbled and lurched as she was hurried down the stairs. The pain was blinding, but behind it was a vague feeling of violation, like there was an unwelcome presence in her mind. It made things seem far away, like they didn't matter.
Finally, they reached the bottom of the tower, spilling into the shadowy main hall of the church. The doorway was directly ahead of them, but Lain pulled back and hugged the wall, pulling back Ivy as he did. This was the sturdiest building in the city, one of the few built entirely of stone and thus one of the few that offered any protection. Below, even over the din of the battle raging outside, Lain could hear the hushed gasps of anxious adults and the terrified wails of sobbing children. He needed to get Ivy to safety. Were he to be seen by the huddled mob below, there would be chaos. He could not afford it.
#
Outside, Ether streaked to her target. Epidime soared toward her. Crystal-tipped arrows hissed through the air from all angles, but Ether now had no fragile mortal to protect. With the benefit of her full attentions devoted to this single task, the archers failed to graze her with even a single attack. Epidime raised his weapon, the gem in its head burning bright. Ether watched it, carefully measuring its strength, the speed of the movements. The timing had to be right. A moment more and she was near enough. Epidime's weapon came down with tremendous force. The shapeshifter darted upward, the blade slicing through the air before her, just a hair's width from her windy form. Though the physical threat fell short, the mystic influence of the gem reached further, tearing away at her very essence in her most vulnerable form.
In a flash, the swirling form of her body tightened, drawing in with gale force, solidifying into stone. She dropped down onto the neck of the beast Epidime rode. The creature buckled under the sudden weight, nearly falling from the sky.
Epidime attempted a second blow, but Ether caught the shaft of his weapon in her stony grip. For the first time since the fight had begun, concern came to Epidime's eyes. With strength unnatural for even his massive frame, he attempted to wrench the halberd from her grip, but it held fast, her strength more than a match for his. Without a word of command, the creature they rode dove earthward, landing in the streets. Ether could feel the grip of her foe slipping with each tug, the core of his power wavering with each mighty pull.
There was no doubt now. Without the halberd, Epidime was nothing.
"Such a pathetic thing!" Ether spat as she felt victory near. "There is nothing to you at all. You rely on an artifact, a tool for your power? How could you have even imagined defeating a product of the gods with such a weakness?"
"A great thinker once said," Epidime began to quote, in a feeble attempt to maintain the cool demeanor that had until moments ago defined him, "wise is the man who focuses on an enemy's weakness, but dead is a man who ignores its strength."
A flash of the gem stunned Ether only briefly, but it was enough for the hoard of nearmen and cloaks who had gathered unnoticed around the battleground to capitalize. Ether's formidable stone form was nothing against the hundreds of grasping claws and clanking swords that rained down upon her. She fought valiantly to finish the task at hand, but the sheer numbers that pulled at her were too great. She was dragged into the writhing mob, her claw-like fingers carving long gashes along the back of the dragoyle before they too vanished among the crowd.
Chapter 30
Lain led Ivy around the edge of the walkway that circled the top of the main hall. The injured creature was fighting back tears valiantly. The presence in her head had suddenly dropped away, and the full weight of the events of the last few minutes was once again resting entirely on her harried mind, but she managed to keep her silence and quell the fear that gripped her.
There were small windows lining the top of the wall just below the ceiling around the perimeter of the hall, two large stained glass windows at either side of the walkway, and one great stained glass masterpiece between them. The duo edged toward the large window at the end of the walkway. It had broken long ago, the bottom of it replaced with planks of wood. If they could pull one aside, they could slip out and down the front of the building. Of course, there were more trying obstacles than a mere plank of wood blocking their path.
The creatures that had seen them enter still threw themselves at the tower. With each rhythmic assault, the walls shuddered. Before long, the bell tower would collapse. Worse, a large portion of the ground troops had been drawn by the dragoyle's attacks. They hammered on doors and shattered low windows. The people inside screamed for mercy. They had yet to see Lain or Ivy inside, and knew not why these beasts and men now threatened to tear their sanctuary down. All they knew was that an army of monsters had descended on their homes. There was a mix of abominations and soldiers tearing through the city, bringing all of the destruction of the war to their very doors.
Lain motioned for Ivy to stay where she was. She obeyed while her defender crept up to the window, evading the light it cast. Behind, Ivy huddled in the corner, cradling her wound. She was every bit as terrified as the people below her, but she couldn't allow it to show. She buried it deep within her. Even a wisp of fear reaching the surface would stir up her aura and they would be seen. Lain didn't want that, so it must not happen.
#
Epidime grinned, keeping a watchful eye on the chaos as he abandoned the back of the injured creature and summoned down a fresh one. His caution proved justified. No sooner had he taken to the air than the whole of the mass of attackers seemed to rise up. A black form could just barely be seen beneath them. An instant later and it surged up, sending the attackers hurdling helplessly through the air, raining down all around. In the center of the eruption was a dragoyle, but it was not like the others. A silvery tone was mixed with the black hide, and a brilliant white light shown from the hollows that should have held eyes.
Ether wasted little time. With the massive strength inherent to her new form, she trounced the foes foolish enough to venture near her, then took to the sky. Epidime would not escape this time. A silent command pierced the minds of the army of creations as her foe attempted to put distance between himself and her raging new form. Every nearman, every cloak, and every dragoyle moved as one, turning instantly to the new target.
The shapeshifter drew in a deep breath of air and heaved out a great cloud of miasma, blanketing the scattered forces below her in the caustic mist. As dragoyles swept in, she spat a second cloud of it in their direction. The beasts were unaffected, though the riders cried out in their unnatural language before falling to the ground below. Whereas before the creatures would have fetched a new rider, it seemed now that Epidime had taken a more direct role in controlling them, as they remained focused on Ether even in the absence of the guiding hands of their riders.
No matter. The shapeshifter had spent an eternity learning how best to use every aspect of a form, and even in the mere moments that she had occupied this shape, she was every bit as capable as the beasts she faced. What's more, she had the benefit of a more than rudimentary intelligence, something that her foes lacked.
The first of the creatures clashed with her, but its attack was smoothly evaded. Ether then countered, choosing her attack carefully. A single blow separated the creature's head from its body and both tumbled earthward. The entirety of the remaining dragoyles swarmed around her. Ether's skill with this form was more than formidable, but the volume of attacks was greater than she could withstand.
Rather than be overcome as she had before, she darted away. The others followed. The shapeshifter wove through the air as gracefully as this form would allow.
#
The constant rain of blows that pummeled the church from all sides died away suddenly and completely as the creatures were commanded to protect their master. Lain silently forced aside a board from the window and peered outside. The creatures, all of them, were distracted chasing one of their own, and it didn't take long to understand why. For once, the shapeshifter had used her powers wisely. He turned to help Ivy to the window
.
Lain grabbed her good arm and guided her to her feet. The blood loss was beginning to affect her, and she had to fight to keep her balance. Her eyes were heavy. If something was not done about her wounds soon, she would lose consciousness. Death would soon follow.
She stumbled, nearly falling. Lain stopped her, but in the silence left by the departure of the attackers outside, it did not go unheard. In a flash, the hushed and huddled townsfolk below began to clamber anew in fear and anger. In the darkness below, the bolder villagers took up lanterns and headed for the stairs to the walkway.
Quickly, Lain widened the opening. Time was against them, and there was no use being quiet anymore. When it was large enough to crawl through, he tried to lead Ivy onto the narrow ledge beyond. Her head no sooner peeked out of the ruined window than a whiff of icy air and a glimpse of a dizzying height brought back her senses and the memory of dangling high above the city just minutes ago. She pulled back, refusing to face the drop again. The bang of a door being thrown open startled her. As Ivy turned toward the sound of approaching footsteps, Lain took matters into his own hands. Throwing Ivy over his shoulder, he hurled himself out of the opening, catching the ledge and dropping down as gently as he could manage.
It was not gentle enough, unfortunately. Ivy cried out in pain as they struck the ground. Heads peered out of the broken window above. Lain could fairly feel their gaze. They had been seen. Both of them. He turned and fixed his eyes on the horizon to the west. He had to escape, find shelter, and attempt to bind Ivy's wounds. It might already be too late.
The injured creature was muttering incoherent scoldings about being careful and warning her when he did such things. The assassin thrust aside all he'd taught himself to do, all that had become second nature to him. There was no time for stealth. There was no time for caution. The last real hope for his kind was fading away. That could not be allowed to happen. Not while he still drew breath.
#
High above, Epidime watched as Ether weaved between buildings, over roofs, through arches. The other dragoyles, clumsy by comparison, crashed into walls and collided with one another. A thought came to mind, causing him to turn his eyes to the ground. Beside the now-collapsed form of his former mount was the weakly stirring form of Trigorah. When a glance upward confirmed that the shapeshifter was distracted at the other side of the town, he guided his beast earthward. Casually dismounting, he fairly sauntered up to his ailing ally and watched her struggle to her feet.
"The shapeshifter . . ." Trigorah warned.
"She has her hands full at the moment. I am surprised at you. You aren't one to be so easily fooled. And I should know," he said.
"Save your mockery . . . what about the others?" she asked.
"Last I left them, they were holed up in the church," he said. "Demont's little project is wounded. They won't be hard to follow."
"If you think Lain will be easy to follow, then you learned nothing from me. He has skill enough to overcome any handicap. You need to find him before he leaves the city," Trigorah warned.
"The cogs are already moving in that regard. I will see to it personally just as soon as the more immediate threat can be dealt with. Ether's power concerns me and . . . do you feel that?" he said, suddenly distracted.
Trigorah held her aching head. "I felt nothing. Where is my sword? If you won't find him I will do it myself."
"I may have dallied too long. It is time for you to retreat. I cannot risk having you here right now. Not under these conditions," he decided suddenly.
"Not while Lain is so near. And not while you face three Chosen," Trigorah countered.
"I would reason with you, but I really haven't got the time, and this is a precaution I am afraid I simply must take," Epidime said.
In one smooth motion, he raised his halberd and struck the still-weak Trigorah. The blow was accompanied by a flash of the halberd's gem, betraying a spell that was no doubt intended to ensure that the strike had its desired effect.
His fellow general dropped back to the ground. A silent order went out to the fastest remaining dragoyle. As he mounted his own beast, the second pulled away from its pursuit, snatched up Trigorah, and turned north, disappearing into the distance. Epidime soared high into the air. It didn't take long before he spotted Lain. The fool was carrying the injured creature across his shoulders, running in plain sight. He swept down after the pair, but the leathery beating of wings drew his attention. Behind him, the dragoyle form of Ether was closing in on him. He managed to evade her, but the five dragoyles that pursued her were another matter. They were far more focused on catching their prey than avoiding this obstacle or any other.
Just as Myn had in her final battle, Ether used the trail of single-minded beasts as a battering ram. No fewer than three of them collided with him, the whole tangle of creatures falling to the ground like a stone. Now that only two remained, Ether could easily dispatch them, and she did so in mere moments. Circling to the ground, she eyed the mound of shattered dragoyle suspiciously as she resumed her human form.
"I cannot abide by that form. It is not without its usefulness, but I feel soiled by it," she hissed, confident that her job was done.
Her confidence, so often her downfall in the past, was again misplaced. As she approached the pile, a small portion of it stirred. Epidime pulled himself from among the broken bodies. Impossibly, the fall that had shattered the almost supernaturally hearty monstrosities had spared him. He was much the worse for wear, to be sure, as one arm hung limply at his side and an ankle was turned hideously inward. As he struggled free, however, his arm twitched, moved, and apparently recovered. He didn't even seem to notice the ankle until he tried to step on it. A moment later and he corrected the twisted limb.
"What are you?" Ether growled.
"For now? Human," Epidime croaked, his voice faltering.
He hacked and coughed, a pink mist of blood splattering his chin as he did so.
"In a moment, you will be nothing," Ether threatened, taking on her stone form and charging at him.
#
Lain had heard the collision and watched out of the corner of his eye as the broken mass had fallen. Perhaps Ether had defeated the general once and for all. Unlikely. All that mattered was that she had occupied him. There was a chance that he could escape. The edge of the town, and the field that lay beyond, was only a few hundred paces away. It was far from safe, offering little cover, but that was a blessing as well as a curse. Once he was outside of the city, he could at least be sure that no foe was lurking out of sight. If he could just reach it.
In the shadows, a whisper of motion caught Lain's eye. Then another, and another. He redoubled his efforts, pushing himself as hard as his weary, battered body would allow.
With a chorus of screeches, the shadows themselves seemed to leap out at him. Claws swiped at him from all sides as cloaks, still sizzling from the dose of miasma Ether had doused them with, flooded the street. One of the creatures caught his leg and he tumbled forward. By the time he regained his footing, he was completely surrounded by what was left of Epidime's ground forces. They floated and flitted around him, sweeping in to slash with their phantom claws. He stood over Ivy and drew his sword, knowing that these moments of delay might be the mortally wounded creature's last.
The way in which the creatures attacked, holding back and jutting in briefly to swipe at him one at a time, had been a blessing in the past. It had allowed him to pick them off slowly and to bide his time for an escape. Now, though, he needed to hold his ground, to destroy every last one of them--or, at least, disable them . . . and fast. The intermittent swipes now came frustratingly slowly. It was almost as though they were purposely wasting time.
Ivy groaned weakly. Lain sliced through another cloak. He breathed in long, greedy breaths, the frigid air burning at his lungs. The motions of his body and the sword were an afterthought, something akin to a reflex. As he fought, his mind worked feverishly to plan out his escape--where to run, how to tre
at Ivy's wound. There would be no room for error. Another slash, another foe fell. The fact that Ether had ravaged the beasts so badly was more than a blessing--it was a rare stroke of luck that made victory possible.
#
Just a few streets away, the shapeshifter's clash with Epidime was growing ever more intense. Ether knew that she'd spent most of the strength she had left. If she didn't end this quickly, she was not certain she would last. Epidime, however, seemed inexhaustible. His body seemed to be failing, but the mystical creature knew that the real threat came not from his body, but from his spirit, and it raged just as intensely as it had at the beginning of the battle. Despite this, he was limiting himself. His blows seemed as carefully measured as they were well-placed. Ether avoided most and blocked the rest, but she knew that he would not behave in this way unless he had good reason. His motivation, however, remained a mystery to her, and that concerned her.
His halberd swung in a slow, wide arc, forcing her backward. He then quickly circled around her, deftly avoiding a diving attack from his opponent. Ether's fatigue was beginning to show. Her attacks were becoming more frequent, and had the air of desperation that he had been waiting for. He shuffled a few more steps, watching with a grin as she adjusted her stance to compensate. Perfect. In a lightning motion, he thrust his weapon forward, unleashing a blinding lance of energy that struck her squarely in the chest. The force of it launched her like a comet, trailing energy and shattering through the wall behind her.
#
Hearing a distinctive crackle, Lain crouched and gathered up his precious cargo, rolling aside a mere fraction of a moment before the wall that had served as the backdrop for his battle thus far burst toward him. He rolled to a stop with cloaks on all sides. One grabbed each arm. Another grasped him about the throat. He struggled briefly, but their grip was too strong. In the rubble beneath the gaping hole in wall, the form of Ether rose. She was riddled with cracks, barely holding together. As the last pieces of debris from the explosion of force fell to the earth, Epidime stepped through the hole he had made. He looked about at his handiwork, smiling at the mound of rubble and the flicker of shattered lanterns from a nearby storefront.
The Book of Deacon Anthology Page 85
