by R. T. Kaelin
Suddenly, the oddest, most out-of-place thought popped into her head: her sitting with Joshmuel in the enclave’s courtyard, watching Zecus and Jak spar. She remembered the Alsher patriarch’s deep brown eyes looking at her, his words echoing inside her as though he were speaking them to her now.
“You have good instincts. Follow them, trust yourself, and do what comes natural. Things will work out.”
The words were so clear, so crisp, that Kenders glanced to her right, half-expecting to see Joshmuel beside her. Only Tobias awaited her quizzical stare, but his attention was held by the scene below.
Shaking her head, Kenders turned to peer at the sand pile. Pressing her lips together, she chose to take Joshmuel’s advice. Her instincts screamed that she act now, not think. So, she did just that.
Staring at the long line of oligurts rushing into the breach, Kenders willed that any of the Sudashians near the peak of the sand pile be thrown backwards. Immediately, close to a hundred bright, white Weaves of Air popped into existence along the gap and slammed into the foremost oligurts, tossing the lumbering beasts into the next few rows of the enemy. A wave of exhaustion rushed over her, accompanied by a shouted warning by Tobias.
“What are you doing!? That’s not what I meant!”
Ignoring the tomble, she reached out to steady herself against the tower wall. A hand gripped her elbow and helped keep her upright. Glancing over, she found Sabine staring at her, her eyes as cold as old snow.
“Don’t do that again.”
Kenders shook her head, muttering, “I won’t.” She doubted she could, even if she wanted to.
The flight of the oligurts had done two things. First, it gave Wil and Cero the opportunity to set up a defense along the sand pile. Shore Guard soldiers rushed to form a thick line of men shouting at the Sudashians. The other benefit to Kenders Weave was that it had distracted the demon captain.
The spawn stood, his back to the city, staring as his oligurts rolled down the sand. Glaring at the demon, Kenders reached for Gaena’s gift again, wanting nothing more than the loose earth around the demon’s ankles to turn into solid stone. A dark, solid brown Weave appeared, fully complete around the demon-man’s feet and instantly morphed the shifting sand into a heap of hard rock. Another, smaller wave of tiredness swelled inside her. The demon stared down at his feet and began to struggle.
A tired smile crept over Kenders’ face.
Relying on skill alone this time, Kenders pulled together Air, Fire, and Stone again, repeating the earlier Weave she had first used to strike at the spawn. Lifting another, much larger stone from the ground, she hurled the boulder through the air, aiming for the oligurt legion’s leader. As the rock spun toward its target, hot, yellow flames oozed over its surface as though the fire were being squeezed from inside the stone. The demon spotted the flaming boulder and began to struggle harder, bellowing a deep, resounding roar while bashing at the rock around his feet with the massive metal hammer he carried.
With a shuddering, satisfying thud, stone and fire crashed into the demon captain, bending the monster backwards, twisting its body into an impossible pose. Flame, dust, and rock exploded in all directions, ending the spawn’s existence. Just as when Baaldòk had perished, Kenders felt a short, intense burst of silver. Strands of Soul exploded outward, blinding her briefly as if she had glanced at the sun.
Kenders brought a hand to her eyes and tried to rub the remnant flash away, intent on wanting to see what the oligurts were doing. Dropping her hand, she stared below, blinking and waiting for the fuzziness to turn sharp. After a moment, she saw that most of oligurts atop the sand pile had stopped their advance. They stood in place, staring at one another.
“Run, blast it…”
A thick, guttural call coursed through the air. A large oligurt stood near the line of Shore Guard, bellowing something unintelligible as it pointed its spiked club to the west. Nearby oligurts turned and began to retreat down the sand, running away from the city. The long oligurt’s shout echoed repeatedly as more and more of the grayskins began to retreat.
Kenders watched, relieved, as close to two thousand oligurts lumbered west, colliding with another group still compelled by their demon captain to invade the city. The two groups began to fight amongst themselves.
Sabine asked, “Can you stand?”
Kenders glanced at her friend and nodded once.
“I’ll be fine.”
“Good”
Sabine released her arm and rushed to the westernmost point of the wall, drawing another arrow, nocking, and releasing it in less time than it took Kenders to blink. Sabine loosed three arrows in such rapid succession, Kenders wondered if she was even aiming.
A great cheer roared forth from Demetus. Glancing down, she saw the soldiers standing on the wall’s remnants—as well as those within the city proper—throwing their arms into the air as they belted out a victorious cry. Catching a bit of movement at the edge of her vision, she looked north and spotted five of the monstrous thorn creatures a half-mile away, battering oligurts and kur-surus alike. Soldiers were pouring from the northern gate on horse and on foot to engage an already staggered enemy.
From beside her, a soft, airy voice murmured, “That was a reckless choice.”
Turning to her left, she found Khin standing there, his blue eyes locked on her. She wondered how long he had been standing there.
“Pardon?”
“Your strategy to eliminate the demon,” said Khin, his gaze calmly traveling over the battle below. “It was reckless.” Both his tranquil manner and the steady pace of his speech were entirely out of place in the battle’s chaos.
She gaped at him, stunned he would be so dismissive of her effort. She was half a heartbeat away from offering a short retort when Tobias did it for her.
“Blast it, Khin! Give her some credit!”
She glanced over to find the tomble approaching, leaning on his walking stick as he hobbled over to them. He stopped beside her and stood on the tips of his toes, trying to peer over the lip of the tower wall.
“I thought what she did was quite clever.”
“Clever, yes,” acknowledged Khin. “Yet reckless.” He stared hard at Kenders, his eyes alive and bright. “I followed your thoughts. You were diligent at first, you thought through your actions. Yet, you resorted to your gift.”
Kenders blinked.
“I did not know what else to—”
She cut off as Khin’s words sunk in.
“You followed my…” She trailed off, her eyes narrowing sharply. “I knew it!” she muttered. “All this time, you’ve been inside my head, haven’t you?”
“Most of it, yes,” admitted the aicenai, unfazed by her accusatory tone. “It was decided it was the best manner in which to teach you.”
Frowning, Kenders asked, “Was it, now? Decided by whom, exactly?”
Khin held her gaze but remained quiet.
Feeling both disappointed and violated, she shook her head and spoke, her tone firm and unyielding.
“My thoughts should be my own.”
Tobias said, “They can be.” He glanced at the aicenai. “Make him swear to stay out of your head. He will hold true to it.” Khin turned his gaze to Tobias, an expression of slight displeasure on his face.
Glaring at Tobias, Kenders asked, “You knew?!”
“Live alone with an aicenai for a few decades, and you eventually figure it out.”
“Who else knows?”
Tobias answered, “Broedi.”
With a raised eyebrow, she replied, “That’s it? You, Broedi, and myself?”
Khin nodded.
“That is all.”
Staring at her teacher, Kenders asked, “Is that true? If I ask you to stay out, you’ll stay out?”
Nodding once, Khin said, “It is.”
“Swear it, then,” said Kenders. “Swear to keep away from my thoughts.”
“I ask that you keep my ability a secret in return.”
�
��Why?”
“Because,” said Khin softly. “The fewer who know the truth, the greater an advantage it is. Both against our enemies and amongst our allies. Would you not like to know if and when Lady Vivienne is lying?” He paused. “Or the duchess?”
Kenders was quiet a moment, wondering at the implication of his question. Now was not the time to press him, though. Not in the middle of a battle.
“Fine,” answered Kenders. “Stay out of my thoughts, and your secret is safe with me.”
“You can tell no one,” clarified Khin. “Your brothers—” he shifted his gaze to Sabine at the western wall “—or your friends.”
Kenders considered the condition briefly before giving a short, decisive nod.
“I accept.”
“Agreed, then,” said Khin. “You have my promise. Although this means we must—”
A great howling filled the air, cutting off Khin while startling Kenders and Tobias. All three turned to stare westward.
“More?” muttered the tomble. “Already?”
Listening to the cry a moment, Kenders noticed a low thudding accompanying it. Shaking her head, she said, “I don’t think so.” She began to sprint to the tower’s western wall. Looking over her shoulder, she urged, “Come on!”
The trio moved west, stopped at the tower’s edge, and watched as the Drept pack and Reed Men on horseback rushed from the south, past the tower, and into the flank of the oligurts. Nikalys and his white sword stood out, flashing bright as he dashed through the horde. She searched frantically for Jak and Zecus, but of the few black and white tabards she saw, none resembled her brother or the man who held her heart. She offered a short, silent prayer to Mu, the God of War, that he keep them safe.
She spotted a familiar, giant hill lynx loping beside the lead horses. Broedi pounced on oligurts as they ran, his teeth and claws shredding the enemy. The lynx’s viciousness was so unlike the quiet, stoic Broedi that it made her uneasy to watch.
Scanning the northern battlefield, she spotted dozens of miasmic, black masses plaguing the remaining demon captains. Lifting an arm to point, she asked, “What in the Nine Hells is that?”
Tobias stared below and answered, “Probably every flying insect within a few miles radius.” He paused before begrudgingly adding, “Wren has his uses.”
One of the twisted demons collapsed to a knee, too distracted by the insect swarm to see the contingent of Southern Arms rushing him from behind. The duchy soldiers overwhelmed the distracted demon captain, making relatively short work of him. Anticipating another burst of Strands, Kenders shut her eyes. She felt the explosion of silver this time, but was not blinded by the flash.
This group of the Sudashian army was in full retreat. She sighed and, with a sick feeling in her stomach, gazed westward to stare at Tandyr’s distant reinforcements.
“It’s not over, is it?”
Tobias muttered, “Not even close.”
As she studied the distant line on the horizon. Frowning, she asked, “Why haven’t they moved?”
Again, she caught a slight ripple of silver from the west. This time, however, she noted a flash of white and gold mixing with the Soul. The use of Strands by the duchy forces had decreased substantially, making whatever was to the west that much more noticeable.
Her gaze still focused westward, she said with a worried voice, “Khin…?”
“I sense it too.”
Kenders was quiet a moment. Something about the combination felt familiar.
“What is it?”
Rather than answer her, Khin turned to Tobias.
“Where is Wren?”
“North somewhere. Why?”
Guessing what the aicenai was thinking, Kenders pointed west.
“Because we need to know what that is.”
Tobias stared to the horizon.
“I sense…Air.”
“Will and Soul, too,” added Kenders.
A deep frown spread over Tobias’ lips.
“You’re right. We need Wren.”
Kenders looked north, to the tower on the other side of the collapsed wall. The three mages—two Shadow Manes and a Titan Tribe hillman—stood atop the tower and appeared to be resting. One of the black-and-white-clad mages was tall, barrel-chested, and had red hair. Pointing to the tower, she asked, “Can you open a port there? By Gamin?”
Glancing at the tower, Tobias said, “I can’t see the top. Would the southern stairs work?”
“Good enough.”
She felt and saw the black Strands of Void and white of Air pop around them and watched Tobias craft the Weave.
“What are your plans?” asked Khin quietly.
Looking over to the aicenai, Kenders shrugged.
“I don’t have one. Unless ‘move north until we find Wren’ counts.”
Khin tilted his head slightly.
“An honest answer, at least.”
A tear in the fabric of the world appeared a dozen paces away.
“Let’s go,” called Tobias, already moving toward the port. Khin was a step behind him.
Kenders looked over and waited until Sabine loosed her next arrow. The moment the shaft was flying, as Sabine was already reaching for the next, Kenders called out, “Sabine!”
Her friend turned to face her. Sabine’s gaze remained even and emotionless.
“What?”
Nodding to the port, Kenders said, “Come on, we’re going north.”
Without question or pause Sabine nodded and strode from the western wall. Turning, Kenders found both Khin and Tobias were gone, already through the port. Looking north to the tower, she spotted the pair climbing the stairs. Gamin and the other mages were turning to face them.
Before Kenders could take a step forward, there was an explosion of Strands to the west.
Bright, burning orange.
Stout, heavy brown.
Sizzling, buzzing yellow.
Gleaming, sparkling silver.
Vibrant, pulsating green.
The surge was so strong that Kenders stumbled, startled by its intensity. She had never felt so many Strands concentrated into a single Weave. She spun around, searching for its source and found a swirling mass of fire, lightning, and rocks hurtling toward the city from the west. Her eyes went wide, her lips parted to draw in a gasp of air.
The ball was twice as wide as the city walls were tall.
“Bless the Gods…”
“Hells!” cursed Sabine. “What is that?”
Kenders did not answer immediately because she did not know. The immense Weave soared through the air, the elements within morphing, taking the shape of a man’s malformed torso and head. Only then did she realize at what she was staring.
“It’s a fibríaal.”
This creature was not unlike the one that had destroyed Yellow Mud, although this was made of Fire, Charge, and Stone and not Water. Her heart sank as she realized its trajectory. Her eyes flashed to where Tobias, Khin, Gamin, and the other mages stood on the next tower, gaping at the fibríaal. She doubted they could stop the attack. The Weave was much too large.
She sprinted toward the port and leapt through, hearing Sabine’s startled cry of, “Ken—” cut off as she passed into the inky blackness.
Her boot slapped down on the stone steps of the other tower and, without breaking stride, she bound up the stairs, reached the top, and spun to face west. From here, she had a much better look into the heart of the Weave. The ordering of the Strands appeared to be nothing more than a tangle of countless strings, like five balls of colored wool yarn all rolled into one.
Khin and Tobias were in the midst of working together on some sort of Water and Air Weave. Gamin was staring into the Weave’s center, perhaps trying to figure out how to unravel it. The other two mages, one Shadow Mane and one hillman—stood motionless, stunned into inaction.
As Gamin noticed her arrival, his eyes went wide.
“Get out of here! Now!”
She ignored his pleas and peere
d into fibríaal, searching for a weak spot. The half-ball, half-man globule of fire, stone, and lightning tumbled through the air, rushing ever closer. The Strands were spinning so quickly, she could not grab a hold of a single one.
A scream of utter frustration burst free from deep insider her, tearing at her throat.
They were not going to stop it.
She needed more time.
Now.
A myriad of colors exploded all around her. Thousands of black, silver, gold, green, white, yellow, orange, blue, and brown Strands popped into existence, fully formed in a perfectly complete, impossibly intricate pattern. It covered the sky, the city, the marshes. It covered the world.
A wave of pure, complete, bone-weary exhaustion rolled over her. Her legs buckled and she dropped to the tower’s stone floor, banging her knees hard and scraping her hands. She opened her eyes—unaware she had shut them—to find her vision blurry and unfocused. Unconsciousness was trying to claim her, but she fought back with everything she had. If she passed out now, everyone on the tower—and countless others nearby—would perish.
Her heart thudded in her chest as she sat there on all fours, wasting precious time she did not have. Try as she might, however, she could not push herself up. She was too tired.
“No…”
Reaching deep inside, she found a hidden reserve of resolve, drew upon it, and ordered, “Blast it. Get up!”
She managed to lift her head at least and peered west, expecting the fibríaal to be mere paces away, ready to crash into the tower and end it all for her. That was not the fate awaiting her, however.
The fibríaal hung in the sky, motionless, locked in a fixed position. For the briefest of moments, she thought Khin and Tobias had somehow succeeded in halting the incoming boulder, but then she noticed the flames on the fibríaal’s surface were not moving. Neither were the jagged bolts of lightning. The entire Weave was frozen in place.
“What in—”
She cut off, stunned by how loud her voice was. She blinked in surprise, realizing it only sounded loud because the world around her had gone totally, completely silent.
