In answer, more demons by the dozens, the scores, the thousands, winged, leaped and flew down from the hills in obedience to his summons. Like ants on a hill, his fell creatures swarmed down and blackened the hills with their numbers. They drew together, wings flapping, crawling across the hills like ants in a hive. Sluggishly, as though mired in sticky oatmeal, the creatures crawled into and over one another. Piling higher and deeper, one couldn’t identify one hell-spawn from another.
“You’re dead, Flynn,” I muttered, sweeping my sword high and wide. I walked up the hill toward him. “I just ain’t killed you yet.”
Incredibly, the mound of scurrying, creeping winged devils slowly rose. I hesitated, my sword lowered, caught by the oddity before my eyes. Under the scrambling black leathery wings, a shape formed. It lifted itself higher, like a boulder coming to life, hard, implacable and immense. More squirming bat-things joined its structure, adding to its great height and breadth. That looks like – Arms spread from colossal shoulders. A head lifted on a thick, bull-neck. Fiery red eyes blinked owlishly in the light.
A demon.
“Gods forbid,” I murmured. “Flynn, what have you done?”
The towering demon saw me. It roared. It bent at the waist, its wings wide, as it stretched it claws toward me. I braced myself, grinning, and set to impale its vulnerable beating heart on my deadly blade. I whirled it in a deadly arc, preparing myself for the uphill charge. Yelling the Atani battle cry, I lunged forward to meet it, head on. Come you –
I didn’t charge. I had no time for the half-mental comment, ‘What the –’ before Malik’s hand sent me crashing onto my back in the stony dirt. I tumbled ass over ears, time and again, before fetching up against a boulder. A sharp ache spread from my spine outward, and I lost my grip on my sword.
My back on fire from the rocks, my breath gone, I half sat up. Struggling, I found a few words. “What? Malik?”
“Stand down, Van,” Malik said firmly, coldly. “This is a fight you can’t win.”
“You can’t – you’re hurt –”
Malik stood on four solid legs. I know he broke that hind leg. I saw it. I heard his head crack against a submerged rock. I know he lay at death’s door, unconscious, comatose. Only strong magic can heal him, bring him back to the world of the living. What magic? None of us had time to think of him, much less lay a hand and heal him. Perhaps Iyumi –
I shot a swift glance toward her, and discovered she was as shocked as I at the impossible. Iyumi stared, slack-jawed, half-hidden behind Sky Dancer’s protective shoulder at a Malik neither of us recognized. Oh, yes, he was still black and arrogant and the rayed star of his rank gleamed from his brow-band. Still, he wasn’t the brother and friend I’ve loved for years uncounted. This Centaur was a stranger to me.
For here he stood on four solid legs, his broad fingers tickling his sword’s hilt, the blood that trickled down his cheek now dried and black. His dark eyes beneath the thick fall of his mane watched the approaching demon with a detached calm that unnerved me. At his sharp whistle, Padraig, Alain, Edryd, and Sky Dancer trotted swiftly to his side. Moon Whisperer circled low overhead, his raptor’s eyes on the approaching demon. Gaear flew in and changed forms, landing on four paws in his favorite wolf shape.
Scrambling to my feet, I charged uphill, toward him. “Malik!”
“Go,” Malik said, his tone low. Half-turning, his chin on his shoulder, his dark eyes softened. “It’s up to you now, my brother. Take Her Highness to the child. Save us all.”
“Malik, no, let me fight, I can do this –”
“My Lord Captain,” Gaear snarled, his fangs bared. “You can’t trust him with her. He’s a traitor! He’ll get her killed.”
“The Lieutenant is right,” Padraig added, his scornful eyes eyeing me up and down. “You can’t permit this murderer to escort Her Highness to the child. Order me instead. Let him be killed here, this day, and regain his honor.”
“Shut up!” Iyumi screamed, lunging out from behind Sky Dancer at Padraig. A dagger gleamed in her fist. “How dare you!”
With a swift gesture, Sky Dancer caught Iyumi around her tiny waist, holding her fast. Though she fought like a cat and yowled like one, Iyumi never tried to cut the talons that held her. Sky Dancer, gripping the squirming, shrieking princess, loomed over Padraig, her raptor’s eyes narrowed. “We all know where you stand, Lieutenant,” she hissed. “You want him dead, and tried to kill him an hour ago. Please don’t be modest, stand up for yourself, boy. Think you’re tough enough to face me?”
“And me,” Windy snapped, alighting beside her, his dark neck feathers at stiff attention. “Speak another word against him and I’ll wrap your guts around your pathetic throat, so I will.”
What the hell? That Malik stood, miraculously healed of his injuries was astonishing enough. But that Windy, also, stood on four solid feet, blood-stained hide now intact and devoid of critical injury, was mind-boggling. How in the name of all the gods could he be here, defending me? I know, I know, Windy should be lying where I left him, bleeding and broken. Yet, he wasn’t. He met my incredulous gaze and tipped me a sly wink.
Under the fierce menace of two angry Griffins, Padraig fell back a step. He lifted his hands, free of weapons, and lowered his face. Malik stalked forward, his hands high, aiming to control his divided unit. But before he uttered his commands, Gaear snarled once more. “If you defend him, then you’re as guilty as he is.”
“Bite me,” Sky Dancer retorted.
He clearly anticipated her attack. When her talons swept low and fast toward his throat, Gaear lunged sideways, quicker than she. But he hadn’t reckoned on Windy. As Gaear spun, unharmed, out of her airspace, he jumped clean into Windy’s ready embrace. Windy caught him up with both fists, holding the now fearfully whining and wriggling wolf high above the ground. “Still wanna play with the big kids?” Windy growled.
“Put him down!”
Malik’s roar startled everyone, me included. Iyumi halted her planned tirade, as Windy opened his talons and dropped Gaear. The wolf fell from five rods up to land hard on his side, his sharp yelp of pain parting the sudden silence like a hot knife through lard. Every eye stared at Malik. And Malik stared back, fury baking off him in waves.
“Cease this idiocy,” he gritted, his dark eyes hot. “The fight is out there, you nimrods. Not here, among us. Captain Vanyar, you will take Iyumi to that bloody child and you will keep them both safe. Am I clear? The rest of you, fall into battle formation. Padraig, put Captain Vanyar on his horse, now! Sky Dancer, see to it Her Highness is ready to ride.”
“Malik –“
“You’re an Atan, First Captain Vanyar. You follow orders, fight to kill, and die for your King and country. That is all.”
Just as Sky Dancer dragged Iyumi from me, Padraig dragged me from Malik. “Malik!”
“Take her to the child, Van,” Malik said, his tone cold. “Don’t watch me die.” He stalked toward the demon, drawing his blade, his back resolute.
“Malik!”
How he summoned Kiera, I’ll never know. She never obeyed anyone but me. Yet, there she stood, dark eyes wild, snorting with fear, as Padraig bodily shoved me onto her back. “Padraig,” I gasped, desperate. “I’m your superior off– “
“We both have our orders, Vanyar,” Padraig said, lifting his hand, his expression resolute and implacable. “You’ll need this, I expect.”
He offered me my sword, falcon hilt first. I accepted it, confused, muddled, in torment. I sheathed it without thinking. “Padraig, listen, we –”
Padraig half-turned turned away, his hand gripping my wrist when I made to slide down. “Is Her Highness ready?”
“No, she’s not.”
Iyumi’s stern bitchiness had returned. Grateful, I swung toward her, knowing she’d turn the tables on Malik and Padraig, command they follow her orders and let me fight. They’d no choice, they had to obey her. When she spoke, their collective genes saluted.
“You will not send me away, L
ieutenant,” Iyumi snapped, her blue eyes aflame. “I plan to stay and so will Captain Vanyar. Unhand him, please.”
Iyumi may have royal authority, but Sky Dancer outweighed her by at least two tons. As though picking up a fragile doll, Sky Dancer plucked Iyumi up by her trim waist and set her carefully in the roan’s saddle. Too shocked to squawk in outrage, Iyumi’s eyes tried to bore holes in Sky Dancer’s equanimity. “How dare you.”
“Oh, I dare, Your Highness,” Sky Dancer replied calmly, saluting politely. “As long as it’s the Captain’s orders that you and Van remain alive and free, I’ll dare anything.”
“Dancer,” I began.
“Shut up, Vanyar. Now ride.”
Moon circled low overhead, his eyes on the not so distant monster Flynn created. “Come on,” he snapped, his beak angled toward Sky Dancer. “The Captain is gonna engage. He needs us like now.”
“You heard him,” Padraig said. “Go. Ride hard and fast.”
“No –”
My sword. I drew it, raised it high. I had more power than Malik. I can stop him, I can defeat him, defeat the monster –
I called on the sword’s strength –
Nothing happened.
I stared, stupidly, down at the hilt in my hand. Its dull bluish gleam answered me at the same time its silent voice spoke in my heart. We do no evil.
But –
Never defy an order.
Under me, Kiera reared. Her ringing scream echoed across the valley. Her front legs flailing, she answered a command that didn’t come from me. Plunging into a gallop before her hooves hit the stony strand, she hit the water dead on. The icy water flowed up past my thighs as she half galloped, half-swam across the churning river. A swift glance over my shoulder showed me Iyumi’s grim, outraged expression as her stallion splashed across the ford at Kiera’s tail.
Kiera cantered up the steep slope on the north side of the river, her legs and tail streaming water. I held her back when she wanted to run, half-rearing in protest. I looked back. Iyumi’s sure hand on her stallion’s reins brought him to a swift sliding stop. She wheeled him about.
Flynn’s monster reared against the darkening sky, lightning flickering about its head. It roared, bellowing with a voice loud enough to shake the valley. Flames flickered from the ends of its long black fingers as those dreadful hands rose toward those I loved.
Malik stood at point, the head of the phalanx. At his flanks waited Sky Dancer and Moon Whisperer, prepared to hurl themselves into battle on his command. Padraig stood behind him, sword in hand, ready. Edryd, mounted on a bay horse captured from Flynn’s crew, and Alain, skirted both left and right, bows nocked and arrows drawn to their jaws. Gaear, his fur bristling and fangs bared, waited next to Padraig.
My heart sank. Seven Atani against a monster. They’ll never survive. Screaming his war-cry, Malik charged Flynn’s hell-creature, the remnants of his last command hard on his heels. Like him, they shouted the Atani challenge to the enemy, the piercing ki-yi-yi, ki-yi-yi-yi as they galloped to their deaths. They’re all dead.
I didn’t realize I’d spoke aloud until Iyumi’s hand slipped across my wrist. “Malik has power,” she murmured. “Power unlike any other.”
“But, not even he –”
“Shhh.”
Her soft voice silenced me more effectively than a shouted order. “You must believe,” she whispered.
I didn’t. What I believed I saw right in front of my eyes. My friend, my brother, galloped into death’s fiery abyss with his sword bared. He took with him my friends, those I shed my blood for and would have died for, had the gods willed it. I believed they fought in vain, thusly died in vain. I turned my face away, my throat so thick I barely got the words across it.
“I believe it’s time we got out of here.”
My hand on the roan’s bridle dragged him with me as I urged Kiera up the steep slope of the valley’s north rim. Up and up we cantered, my head bowed. I tried to shut my ears to the sound of the battle that raged below, knowing full well I’d not see them again this side of death. Malik, you noble fool –
Half-blind, seeing yet not, I trusted Kiera to find the easiest path, felt her half-buck beneath me as she strove for higher and higher ground. At my right, Iyumi muttered under her breath – either prayers or promises of what should happen if her mount stumbled. Muted by distance, the sounds of the battle grew indistinct and all but meaningless in my ears.
Flynn obviously planned for a potential escape of his coveted bride. Before Kiera and the roan had carried us halfway across the rim, their hooves triggered his explosive traps. Flames, dirt, rocks and shards of nails and glass blew upward and outward in a sharp, coughing roar. Kiera reared high, screaming, throwing me hard from her back. Pain exploded across my shoulders and left arm as I struck a boulder, rolled over it, and lay face-down, stunned, in the loose dirt. Half-blind, I lunged upward, crawling, my hand reaching for my sword.
Iyumi cried aloud, in fear and anger, as her faithful roan fell sideways, his front legs shattered. Ever the consummate horseman, she rolled clear of her dying mount, his hind legs kicking in panic and torment. Skidding partway down the hill, Iyumi clutched a rock and stopped her fall. Blood spattered her face as loose rocks shredded all within their range, the fires of the explosion dying as the powder that gave them life were consumed.
Kiera crashed on her side, blood pouring from her mouth and nostrils. Her legs tried to send her body upright, but the damage was done. Her once-pristine coat caked in blood and dirt, Kiera’s strong legs failed her at the last. Struggling to rise, she whinnied her panic as they bent and broke, casting her down to slide several rods down the mountainside. A born fighter, she kicked rocks and snorted dirt, her body bent sideways as she tried once again to regain her hooves beneath her.
I groaned as I heaved my way up, ignoring the agony of my busted arm and cracked ribs, crawling toward my girl. “Kiera,” I gasped. “Kiera, honey, it’s all right, I’m here, baby, lie still.”
Her dark eye rolled toward me as she floundered, still trying to rise and fight. A deep, throated whinny, more akin to a groan, escaped her fluttering nostrils as I collapsed next to her. Clamping my broken left arm tight to my side, I pulled her heavy head across my lap. I stroked her sweaty face, willing her to calm, to look at me, to trust.
“Be still,” I whispered. “Be calm, my love, my Kiera.”
Her muzzle lifted toward me, her nostrils flared and her eyes ringed white. Sweat caked the dirt on her neck, turning it instantly to mud. Beneath my hands, she quieted. Her great hooves ceased to thrash, offering me one swift thought of gratitude and hope. She’ll be all right, I thought, given time and healing. Malik can – Malik can –
That thought crashed inwards with renewed reason. Malik was dead, or as good as. Kiera lay broken and far beyond the healing power of anyone save me, and I couldn’t heal a rash. Unless Kiera received help soon –
Her ear swung toward me in acknowledgement. The one soft eye I could see rested upon my wretched face, offering me her love. That was all. Her legs sank into the churned soil. Her silken head relaxed against my legs. She breathed in one last gasp and her great, soft eyes rolled up in her head. Gods, no –
She died.
My heart shattered in my chest.
I lost her. She died in my arms. I failed to save her, failed in my most sacred duty, to keep alive those I loved. She’s gone, and she didn’t take me with her. My girl left me, she left me behind, just like that she was alive and now she’s just – gone. Taken from me between one heartbeat and the next. Gods, how could you let this happen?
Come back, I tried to scream. Kiera, come back.
Tears burning, stinging my eyes, but failing to fall, I watched in abject horror and grief as Iyumi dispatched her stallion with quick, efficient strokes of her dirk. The blue roan bled out quickly, collapsing in on himself like a spent bladder. She ended his pain, and his life, with quick mercy. I’m glad I didn’t have to offer Kiera that. I doubted
I could. I stroked my hand under her thick mane, her flesh warm and supple as though she still lived. Kiera!
“Van.”
Her voice, soft, mild, determined, raised my face from the gashed form of Kiera. “We have to go.”
In the distance, thunder rolled across the valley below us. Flashing of lightning and fire bloomed as Malik’s battle raged against Flynn’s monstrosity. I didn’t want to see the end. I studied Kiera’s beloved face rather than witness another one I loved die, taken down by a monster. I turned my back on the battle, trying to shut my ears to the sounds. Gods send you to eternal heaven, Malik, my brother.
I nodded. My hand stroked down Kiera’s brow and across her closed eyes. “Good bye, my beauty,” I whispered. “May the gods embrace you, little girl. “
Wriggling out from beneath her huge head, I carefully set it down on a pillow of earth. Holding my broken left arm with my strong right, I stumbled to my feet. I turned my face away from her corpse and staggered several strides uphill. Must escape. She’s with the gods now. The child, we must find her. She’s gone, she’s dead, I love her, oh how I love her. I’ll see her again. I’m an Atan, I wear the ring. I mustn’t let Malik down, he’s trusting me to see this through. Malik’s dead, Sky Dancer’s dead, Kiera’s dead – they’re all dead –
Iyumi’s warm fingers slid over my wrist and effectively halted my internal monologue and my strides. I blinked several times, homing onto her reality as a moth dives toward a dancing flame. I needed that touch, that reassuring contact that told me I hadn’t yet entered the realm of the damned. Kiera’s dead, but Iyumi isn’t. She needs me now.
Her blue eyes met mine with calm sympathy and deep sincerity. “I’m so sorry, Van. Truly I am.”
I tried for lightness. “She’s just a horse, right?”
“Don’t, Van. Don’t do this.”
Her grip tightened. I bowed my head, my chest burning. Kiera!
I shook off her empathy like an unwelcome blanket and jerked my head uphill. “We’ve leagues to cross, Princess,” I murmured. “Best we get started, eh?”
“But how –”
The Unforgiven Page 34
