Book of Sacha: Dark Fate (The Dark Fate Chronicles 3)

by Matt Howerter

  Sacha disagreed with Sir Wallner’s assertion. The grove might screen the movements of the Basinian ground troops, but it was more likely that the Wildmen themselves would be holding the advantage. The wooded area Sir Wallner pointed to appeared to be large enough that any number of Wildmen could be hidden in there, not to mention traps, wargs, and who knew what else. Not to mention that the Rohdaekhann would be next to useless if the massive grove was as densely populated with trees as the ones they had seen along their travels.

  Looks as if I’ll be sitting this one out after all, she thought with a disheartened frown.

  Sir Wallner pointed to two different groupings of figures located on either side of the Wildmen. “Our forces will have them penned in on the north and the south.”

  “Who is to the south?” The prince asked, surprised.

  “We sent word to Sir Halan Langston. He came up from the border and awaits your orders, my prince.”

  “Nicely done, Gareth,” Alexander said, patting the knight on the back. “It’s clever thinking like this that will see us through this mess.”

  A smile as broad as Sir Wallner’s shoulders crept across his weathered face. “Rest assured, we have them, my prince.” The other attendants echoed his sentiments wholeheartedly.

  Nothing changes, Sacha thought, remembering the same cocksure attitude of the council and their impenetrable belief in the invincibility of their armed forces. In spite of her misgivings, Sacha held her peace. The odds were in their favor, and that was an undeniable advantage. These knights and advisers were tested men; they knew the risk and cost of failure. And if they do fail, I will do what I must.

  Alexander addressed his men. “Send word to Sir Langston. We march tomorrow.”

  Thunder rolled ominously through the sky, setting Sacha’s heart to racing. The clear skies that had graced their flight yesterday had all but disappeared. Rolling gray clouds towered into the heavens, casting the land into shadow for miles. Bora and the other Rohdaekhann seemed not to share her concerns about the lightning that laced the distant clouds. Bora squawked as he usually did despite the flashing lights and vibrations that shuddered through the air.

  Misgivings or no, there was nothing to be done for it now. The order to march had been given before the sun had even crested the horizon. The ground troops had traveled most of the morning and had almost reached the grove. Clear skies or gray, the battle would be had today.

  Alexander and his advisers had debated the plan to capture the Wildman leader late into the evening. In the end, not much changed from the strategy Sir Wallner and the others had presented to the prince when they’d first arrived. The Rhadoken had been split into three groups: Captain Aria and a Rhadoken named Syten were to lead a flight each, and the final group, which was acting as the primary scouts, flew under Prince Alexander.

  Sacha flew beside the prince, with Rouke trailing in the wind not far behind. Her nerves danced on the edge of anticipation and fear. She had prepared as best she could, rising before dawn to meditate and draw her limit of arcane power from the Shamonrae. Even now, the magical energy writhed within her, eager to be set free. If only we could get on with it, she thought restlessly.

  The screech of Captain Aria’s Rohdaekhann drew the attention of every Rhadoken. The captain signaled with her right hand. Before Sacha could question what the signal meant, Aria and Syten’s flights began to descend toward the river, while the Rohdaekhann trailing the prince stayed aloft.

  The prince pointed to the expanse of trees just west of where Captain Aria and the two squadrons were headed. Her guess about the stand of oaks from the council meeting had been correct. The trees that sprawled away were more forest than grove. Eos save us from arrogant men, Sacha thought, thankful she had taken the time to fill her store of mystic energies. While they were flying, she would be too distant from the earth and its life to draw energy from anything but the Rohdaekhann and her fellow fliers. Even if that weren’t a forbidden practice, it was something Sacha would not allow herself to do.

  Because the Wildmen had no distinguishing campfires to pinpoint their location, finding them had to be done by direct observation. The density of the forest was going to require the Rohdaekhann to fly low to find their enemies. If the Wildmen knew they were coming…

  Sacha realized that she was as tense as stretched wire. She focused on her breathing and forced herself to relax, moving rhythmically with Bora’s wings.

  Below, the Basinian troops could be seen approaching from the north and south, spreading apart as they marched. There was no way they could surround the entire glade, but they focused on the strategic access points to the low area in which the trees stood, restricting any movement out of the wood. Sacha searched until her eyes ached, but still no hint of the Wildmen could be seen.

  Back at the river, Captain Aria and her squadrons of Rohdaekhann rose into the air in the standard wedge formation they always used. Sacha watched them climb until the great eagles became indistinct against the darkened sky, then as one, the great arrowhead came hurtling down.

  Sacha’s heart raced, even though she wasn’t part of the diving formation. She knew the fierce joy of plummeting to the earth like a comet.

  The formation raced toward the forest as if to plunge into the thick treetops, but wings flared, changing the angle of their descent. Large boulders, trapped in the taloned grip of each Rohdaekhann, became visible as they leveled out with the canopy. Now Sacha understood what they were doing at the river.

  The formation careened by in a thunder of displaced air and rustling feathers. Just before the eagles made contact with the reaching canopy, they released their stones in a deadly hail that set the treetops to swaying violently for hundreds of yards. Loud snaps and crashing sounds came from the forest below as the aerial pummeling punished the woodland. Captain Aria led the Rohdaekhann up into the air and back toward the river again.

  If that doesn’t flush them out, I don’t know what will, Sacha thought, awestruck. She’d never thought to use the Rohdaekhann in such a fashion. Even the hardy Pelosian soldiers of her homeland would be daunted by such an attack.

  Alexander motioned to the forest where the stones had fallen. Sacha and the six Rhadoken followed the prince’s lead, skimming the canopy in search of their enemies. The heavy stones had torn through the trees with destructive efficiency. Great gaps had opened in the leafy hills beneath them, exposing splintered branches and trunks stripped of their bark, but the forest floor still could not be seen through the darkened shadows.

  Sacha and Alexander’s flight circled away as the other Rohdaekhann rushed in once more with a second assault. This time, the sounds of crashing boulders and splintering wood were joined by screams. At first, Sacha thought they were screams of agony, but then the pitch seemed to subtly change into fury and hatred as the sound climbed. She began to realize it wasn’t just men. It was something else.

  The treetops below them erupted. Clawing, leathery forms of grahl spewed into the air like clouds of noxious ash. Cackling goblins clung to raggedy saddles with both feet and one hand while in the other they wielded steel-tipped javelins or slings. The creatures screeched their hatred while their goblin masters prodded their scaly hides. Within a matter of moments, the sky was filled with the reptilian monsters.

  Hector let loose a piercing cry. Alexander’s hands were ablaze with gestures. The Rhadoken around them moved swiftly to form an aerial phalanx that surrounded her and Alexander.

  Sacha lurched in her awkward saddle as Bora’s powerful shoulders fought for elevation. She fumbled with the reins. She had been caught off guard. They had all been caught off guard. Captain Aria and her two squadrons were trying to wheel around, called by Hector’s cry, but they had already begun their descent to the river. Sacha, Alexander, Rouke, and five Rhadoken were alone, facing two score of southern grahl and their goblin riders.

  Their pursuers climbed upward, closing the distance between them at an alarming rate. A flight of the javelins streaked by
, narrowly missing Sacha and Bora.

  Others were not so fortunate.

  Hector gave an anguished screech as javelins found their mark.

  “No!” Sacha cried as the noble bird began to plummet toward the canopy below. Alexander cursed and shouted, yanking uselessly at the reins. It was too late. Hector was dead or dying, and Alexander was doomed.

  The stored arcane power surged within her as she wheeled Bora around and into a dive after her prince. Rouke’s horror-stricken face flashed by as she streaked past. His desperate screams for her to stop only served to heighten her anger and drive her onward.

  With her arcane senses open, Sacha could see the power radiating from her skin and crackling through her armor. She fed that power into a transparent dome just ahead and around herself and Bora as they dove straight at the swarming grahl.

  The goblins saw them coming and shouted in anticipation, hoisting the javelins above their heads in gnarled fists. The leathery wings of their steeds pumped furiously as they climbed to meet this lone, foolish woman.

  Sacha bellowed in fury as she and Bora slammed into the host of leathery-winged and green-skinned monsters. Their steel could not touch them, and their claws proved useless against the might of her shield. Wings, arms, and heads shattered under the impact, spattering the invisible surface of the shield with blood and fluids. Bodies dropped like rain away from her as she tore through the pack of ravening fliers like the stones dropped by Captain Aria and the Rohdaekhann. She shouted again, but this time in triumph as they punched through the cloud of scattering grahl.

  Below, Alexander continued on his path to certain death.

  With the horde of grahl scattered and left behind, Sacha released the shield that was rapidly draining her stored power. She needed to save it if she was to have a chance of rescuing Alexander. She reached out her senses to him, but there was still too much distance between them.

  Alexander eclipsed every part of Sacha’s heart and mind. Her life with the prince in the past year flickered by as she watched him spiral toward the trees below. The love she had played at for so long had become a reality. He was her husband, in every way that mattered, and she could already taste the emptiness his passing would bring. He was her last chance at a life with some small amount of happiness. If he died, she knew she would soon follow, if not in body then at least in soul.

  She cried out as the prince and his lifeless mount broke through the lush canopy and then disappeared into the darkness below.

  Sacha wasn’t going to catch him in time. Bora couldn’t fall fast enough. Desperately, she drew on her store of arcane power, summoning a gust of wind from the forest floor. She poured every ounce of power she still held into it, exhausting her stores. The effect was instantaneous, as a great gout of leaves, dust, and underbrush spewed from the treetops and into the air. Please, Eos. Be enough, she prayed.

  Bora screeched and snapped open his wings, arresting their headlong rush toward the trees. Pain flared in both shoulders as Sacha was flung violently against the restraints. The lap belt dug painfully into her abdomen, knocking the wind from her in a sputtering rush and threatening to push out her breakfast as well. She gasped for breath while Bora skimmed the canopy.

  Struggling for breath, Sacha fumbled with the buckle at her waist. She needed to get to Alexander. Bora couldn’t take her there. Still wheezing, she managed to unhook the buckle and straps that held her in place. Before she could take time to consider it, she rolled free of the saddle and dropped into the open sky.

  Wind whipped the hair away from her face as she plummeted. The pain in her lungs was forgotten in the face of the fear that twisted her gut as the forest canopy sped toward her.

  Teacher had spared no pains in making certain his pupil would be able to handle herself in any situation. There had been many times in the past year when she had been certain that he was, in fact, trying to kill her. He had explained when she pressed him that it was typical to test students to the limits of their endurance and capacity. Life as a mage was often deadly. She had cursed him then, but she thanked him now.

  Even as she hurtled toward certain death, she approached the forest and its rich well of life. She reached for the Shamonrae, and it opened to her easily, although the power was weak and thready—she was yet too high. Still, she pulled.

  As the green leaves of the treetops came closer, the flow of power from the Shamonrae became stronger. Sacha straightened her body into a dive, stretching her fingers toward the forest floor. With the trickle of power she had drawn, she created a small dome of force in front of her just as she had done with Bora. It used most of her power, but she continued to pull more as she fell.

  The canopy split apart upon impact with the invisible shield. Some branches were snapped in half; others were knocked aside only to rebound, whipping at Sacha’s legs and feet as she hurtled by. She gritted her teeth against the stinging pain and focused on what had to happen next if she was to survive.

  The life of the forest enveloped her in a rich stream of power from the Shamonrae, enlivening her senses and filling her reserves. She released the shield and tucked her legs into a spin so that she fell feet first. Sacha summoned another gust of wind from below, this time more focused but no less powerful than the one she had made for Alexander. Her deadly descent slowed to a crawl as the wind blasted by in a torrent of leaves and small sticks. When her feet finally touched the ground, it was as if she had taken a light step off a short stair.

  Remembering Teacher’s words of caution about holding the conduit to the Shamonrae open for too long, especially when wielding arcane power, Sacha released her grip on the mystical place to rely solely on her newly replenished store of power.

  She set off at an easy trot in the direction she thought Alexander had gone down. As she ran, she sent her arcane senses ahead, questing through the wood in search of her husband. The familiar signatures of local flora filled the area, but no large fauna touched her senses. Patterns of sentient life filled the woods around her. She knew instinctively that the hodgepodge of goblins, hobgoblins, and men were the Wildmen.

  A resonance at the fringe of her reach caught her attention, and she turned toward it. Her heart soared. It was Alexander, and he was alive.

  Before Sacha knew what she was doing, she was at a dead sprint, chewing up the distance between her and the prince. Trees and underbrush fell to the background as she raced toward her husband’s signature. As she got closer, she sensed that Alexander was not alone. The oily taint of goblin and hobgoblin surrounded him. Sacha pushed herself to go faster.

  The ringing of steel on steel sang through the woods, sounding above the grunts and cries of combat. When Sacha finally broke through the last bit of foliage, she stood briefly, stricken.

  Hector lay in a twisted heap at the base of a massive oak. Giant feathers littered the forest floor all around his once-proud form. Goblins swarmed the Rohdaekhann’s body like giant ants, mindless of the combat playing out nearby. Bloody fists clutched sharp knives that cut away great chunks of meat and feathers. The gory bits were being tossed into the baskets of their waiting brethren, who hooted and cheered at each dripping piece.

  The source of ringing steel came from a fighting circle of hobgoblins. There were at least a dozen of the hulking brutes, and at their center was Alexander. The prince had discarded his human heritage in favor of becoming a supernatural maelstrom of steel and fury. His left arm dangled loosely as he moved, but his sword arm was living lightning. Blow after blow was parried harmlessly away, while the prince danced, ducked, and spun. Time and again, his blade flickered out, and a hobgoblin would scream or curse in pain.

  Sacha shouted a battle cry of her own as she brought up hands alight with arcane power and rushed in to join the fight. She funneled a shard of power into her voice so that her rage-filled scream boomed through the glade like thunder. For all of her training in and exposure to the Basinian culture, her Pelosian heritage could not be denied. She hungered to see her enemies des
troyed.

  Goblin and hobgoblin alike turned in shock and surprise as her shout overawed every crash and scream. Even Alexander froze in place at the sound. Confusion began to dawn on his face as he watched her rush from the woods.

  Sacha’s arms vibrated with the power that surged within them. She screamed at the gawking hobgoblins and thrust her hands at them as waves of force erupted from her opened palms. Hobgoblins exploded into the air as the invisible shockwave crashed into them. Armor crushed like paper, but the screaming howl of the sundered metal was insignificant next to the sounds of breaking bones and screams of pain. Flaccid bodies fell hard to the soil more than twenty yards away.

  Sacha’s blood was on fire. The destruction of the hobgoblins was not enough. She whirled around to face the dozens of stunned goblins that had been busy at work filleting Hector. Again she thrust her hands outward, this time releasing a jagged arc of blue lightning. When the first questing finger of electric fire touched the first goblin, all the energy collapsed into a crackling link from Sacha to the goblin. Sparkling threads of power leapt from the goblin’s head and arms until they made contact with the next-nearest goblin. In the blink of an eye, all the goblins in sight found themselves trapped, jittering and dancing on the rope of blue lightning. Smoke spewed from their opened mouths and ears while their skin blackened and cracked from the intense heat.

  Sacha stumbled from fatigue and let the writhing cord of lightning fall. Dozens of charred bodies slumped into smoking heaps around her. Teacher had warned her time and again what the cost could be in the continuous use of the arcane power and losing control of her emotions. He would not be pleased when she made it home. If I make it home.

  The thought of home startled her into a realization that pierced through the haze of exhaustion. She had just unleashed an undeniable magical assault, and she had done so in front of…