by A. Evermore
‘Traitors!’ she screamed up at the harpies, ‘you turned your back on the goddess, you turned your back on Maioria, your own home!’ But the Harpies only laughed at her in defiance and one by one dropped like stones from the sky towards her, talons shining like knives, their own magic glimmering around them.
‘There is no goddess here, the Immortal Lord claims all!’ one screamed in Frayonesse as it tried to reach past her slicing sword, sharp talons glancing off metal with a loud ring. A flare of red fire hurtled towards her but the talisman responded as quick as she thought it. Blue fire surged and engulfed the red flames until they went out.
‘We will kill you, eat your flesh and suck your bones!’ another screeched.
Issa’s blade moved faster than the harpy could dodge and she struck with such furious force that its body was severed almost in two from its shoulder down to its feathered hip. Bright red blood sprayed all over her as it tumbled into the great chasm. She wiped the stinging blood from her eyes, barely in time to see the next harpy attack.
She stepped sideways, dangerously close to the edge of the chasm, ducked as it came low then thrust up to meet it. Her sword sank into its belly but in its horrified death throes talons scraped painfully into her arm. She pulled her sword free, glimpsed the next harpy coming from behind in the bloodied reflection of her blade and spun to meet it, slicing desperately in the air. Wing severed it fell with a surprised expression, following its comrade into the chasm. She swung again and another followed them, tumbling into the sea far below.
‘You told me to practice, Grast’anth, but I never thought practice would always be for real,’ she whispered grimly.
Blood ran down her arms, soaked her leather karalanth tunic and her trousers made by Lys’ynth. Her blacksmith’s belt protected her midriff and not for the first time did she give thanks for that. But the harpies were many and each one of them that fell only seemed to make their fury burn brighter, their attacks more reckless and unpredictable. They began to dive at her faster, despite her deadly blade, as if they no longer feared death. The furious brood screamed and cackled, a terrible sound that raked at Issa’s ears, just as their talons raked her flesh.
Where was the golden dragon? Why were they not helping? But she barely had time to think.
On and on she whirled and struck, driving them back, using the talisman to block their flares of red fire with blue. The red fire suddenly stopped coming and for a brief moment they no longer dove at her. Issa stood there gripping tightly the slippery bloody hilt of her sword, gasping for breath, desperately wanting to lie down and rest.
The screeching began to change and rather than unordered threats it began to sound more like ordered noise as they used their strange words in unison. Soon it took on the sound of ominous chanting, a hundred banshees singing their dread-filled song. The Flow moved in a way that made her feel sick and dark magic flowed beneath the pastel hues, distorting it, making it seem sickly and viscous so she could not use the talisman to pool it within her so easily. The rise and fall of their voices made her heart thud heavily in her chest and she felt heavy and slow as if every ounce of energy had left her. Her eyelids wanted to close and more than anything she wanted to lay down and sleep.
So this was how they worked their magic? Issa thought. With no experience or knowledge of this enemy she could only wait and see, a woeful disadvantage. Harpy magic closed in around her, blocking her view and feel of the Flow.
‘Barrier,’ she gasped, struggling to breathe the air that was thick like soup.
The talisman pulsed and an indigo field of light shimmered close to her body, protecting her before the harpy magic could cut her off from the Flow completely. They circled towards her like a cloud of wasps slowly closing in on their victim. She knew there were too many to fight this way and no amount of magic could stop the pain in her sword arm. All at once ten or more splintered from the rest and descended upon her from every side.
‘Eat your bones!’ they screeched, ‘take your man and devour him too!’
‘Protection,’ Issa screamed.
There came a clap of magic momentarily stunning her at the same time talons ripped into her shoulders. She drew the Flow close, feeling like she was about to vomit from using it now, and white flames flared around her. Everything burst into white fire apart from herself. Harpies screamed around her as she swayed. The Flow seemed to be moving her this way and that but her physical feet stayed put. I am falling into the Flow. She blinked, struggled to see the physical world, saw the flaring white bodies of the harpies writhing around her, the smell of burning flesh and feathers seared her nostrils.
Stinging pain exploded from her shoulders and fresh hot blood trickled down her arms. She couldn’t hold it back and vomited over the edge, swaying sickeningly somewhere between the Flow and the physical world, burning any energy she had left to stay anchored in the present. The harpies saw their flagging enemy and again they attacked in a group and again the white fire flared but weaker than before. Issa swayed dangerously close to the edge, barely able to distinguish it from the rush of the Flow around her. It was the form of Ehka beside her, dark blue in the Flow, that helped her know where she should stand.
With a great effort she forced herself out of the Flow and raised her sword. She could not use magic for the next attack. She sliced in a big arc, her arms burned with the effort. Talons clawed, steel sliced, bright red blood, both hers and the harpy’s, splattered over the ground. She stumbled as she struck and talons tore into her shoulders lifting her momentarily off the ground. She sliced the talons from the harpy and fell down hard, rolling away from the edge as best she could.
She dragged herself to her feet. Glancing down she saw Coronos and Asaph engaged in their own battle. They stood beside the broken temple, hugging the black and bloodied walls for protection from the aerial attack as best they could. From what she could make out at a glance amongst the blur of harpies Asaph swung his sword ceaselessly whilst Coronos held his orb aloft. Dead and dying harpies littered the ground but still they came on.
She understood then why Asaph was not in his dragon form. To leave Coronos' side for a moment would be the last time he saw his father. The harpies would stop at nothing to steal a man, even if it meant leaving their brood in the middle of a fight.
How many harpies had come to Celene? They must have been promised this sacred land for their new breeding ground. The thought made her furious and the fury made her want to fight more.
The harpies were gathering for another assault and their chanting was loud above her. She swayed weakly. The raven talisman was hot and heavy in her hand and she longed to put it down. If I put it down now I will never be able to enter the Flow again! But if she entered the Flow again she would probably never come back out!
She glanced down at the raven. He had bald patches on his back and blood dripped from a wing. He stared up at her. She looked at her weak and bloodied arms. I cannot fly and even if I could I could never outfly a harpy. And besides, where would I go? Leave Asaph and Coronos to their fate? My insatiable vengeance will be the death of us all!
Issa wanted to cry. More than cry she wanted to curl up and die as the utter devastation of failure sunk in. She had failed, failed Ely, failed Asaph. She blinked, seeing the Flow in one moment and then the blurry physical world in the next, no longer able to control which she looked upon. She managed to glimpse the brood of harpies getting ready for another ferocious assault.
She tried to focus on the talisman, tried to think of some command it would respond to, but the magic it could pull was spent. Issa thought of Arla, tried to remember if she had written anything about the talisman and how it could be used, but nothing came to mind. I know more about the talisman than anyone, she realised dumbly.
‘Issa.’
The word was a strange drawn out calling that came from far away. She blinked as a faint light formed taller and wider than a human, whether in the Flow or in the physical world she could no longer determine.
She tried to focus on the faint light but it seemed to struggle to stay there, fading in and out.
‘Issa, remember Karshur,’ the words were barely distinguishable, so long and drawn out were they. They seemed to come from a female voice. It sounded familiar, like the voice who had called to her in the storehouses of Little Kammy.
‘Karshur was returned to the elves, Karshur is gone,’ she croaked feeling stupid. But as soon as she said it she remembered. The words that gain entrance into the realm of the dead. She stood a little straighter and stared back at the descending harpies defiantly. It had to work, it was all she had left!
‘A’farion, A’farion, A’farion,’ she cried aloud and thrust the talisman against her bloodied chest where the mark of the raven was.
The whole world flashed and she fell forwards into silver light.
The bright silver light faded to dull grey. Issa found herself in a world of shade, and for a moment the awful memories of the Shadowlands made her wish the harpies were eating her alive right now. The ground beneath her feet was hard and rocky like the ground she had just stood on, only it was grey and seemed unreal, as if she could push her hand through it if she wanted. The sky above was a lighter shade of grey to the ground.
She looked down at her hands, they were shadowy and indistinct too. In fact everything around her was just a ghostly copy of the physical world, and perhaps it is. She turned and saw the spire of the Temple of Celene in the distance. It was not destroyed and still stood whole and tall but it lacked beauty in its muted shade of grey. She glimpsed movement, figures moving beside the temple. She swallowed, I do not want to meet anything here, especially not the dead.
A raven cawed, making her jump. Ehka landed beside her. He was black and solid in this shadowy world.
‘You are real here,’ she said in surprise, more of a statement than a question.
Ehka looked up at her and dipped his head as if nodding. He looked smooth and sleek and not bald and bleeding. I do not feel injured here either. She realised, feeling her shoulders for wounds and blood but finding none. Instead she ached all over. Extreme tiredness nagged her and she sorely wanted to lie down and sleep. She thought that would be a very dangerous thing to do in this ghost world.
‘Now I am here what am I supposed to do? The harpies will not simply fly away,’ she asked the raven.
She thought of Asaph and Coronos, ‘They will kill them!’ In a panic she racked her brains. She looked down at the raven talisman, it too was black and solid and real in this world, just like the raven. She tried to enter the Flow, if only to feel it, but even in this ghost world the very attempt made her feel sick and weak.
She focused instead upon the talisman. What can I do when we are outnumbered? She wondered and then had a thought. It came to her so suddenly she wondered if the talisman had placed it there, as if it could read her thoughts. The thought was a picture; a sky filled with hundreds of ravens.
‘I know what to do,’ she said to the raven. He cocked his head questioningly. ‘I will call to your brothers and sisters. Surely all ravens fly between the living world and the dead. It has to work. What is the point of the raven talisman? What is the point of being the Raven Queen if I cannot even call the ravens to me?’
She focused on the talisman and gripped it tightly. ‘Bring to me all ravens of Zanufey. Bring to me our brothers and sisters. Call to me my ravens.’ Nothing visually happened but she felt an invisible pulse of energy flow out from the talisman in a circular wave. It pulsed several times and then was still. Issa and Ehka stared up at the sky expectantly.
‘There look!’ Issa pointed to a small black shape flying fast towards them. Just as she said it two more came in to view. ‘Haha!’ she laughed, ‘I knew they would come!’
The first one landed at her feet, it was smaller and younger than her companion and for a moment Issa wondered how she would be able to tell the difference when many had come. When the next two landed, one was bigger and the other older and more scraggly.
‘I will not be able to tell you apart from the others,’ she said to Ehka.
He gave a low reproachful caw and Issa felt the faintest wild magic move. A faint aura of indigo blue, the colour of the dark moon, shimmered around Ehka.
‘I forget you can use magic of your own,’ she laughed.
More ravens landed, all crowding around her and still more filled the sky. Issa grew more anxious by the second. How time passed in this place she could not be sure but one thing was certain, Asaph and Coronos were running out of time.
‘We must return to the living and fight the harpies,’ she said aloud. But how on earth do I do that? Karshur had not told her how to return. She held the talisman to her chest where the raven mark was.
‘Return us to the living?’ she chanced.
The world flashed and she fell forward into silver light.
Whatever respite and enjoyment she had experienced in the ghost world was swept away in seconds. She felt like death, swaying like a drunkard with exhaustion on the edge of the sundered land. Harpies still wheeled above and it seemed she had only been gone seconds. Seeing her return they screeched excitedly and came towards her.
Issa held the talisman high in one hand and her sword in the other. ‘Ravens, come to me,’ she cried. The talisman pulsed once, the air shimmered silver around her and then hundreds of ravens flew out of the land of the dead and into the living. In the place where they came from between worlds the air shimmered and rippled like water. All around Issa they came and then headed straight towards the harpies. Though the harpies were much bigger than the ravens there were three or more ravens to every harpy.
The air was filled with screams and screeches and caws. Talons clawed, beaks flashed, feathers and blood fell from the sky. Now engaged in a deadly aerial battle the harpies soon forgot about the humans. Raven and harpies fell from the sky, each small black body filled Issa with sorrow. She had called the ravens and now they fought and died for her, their Raven Queen. The harpies, already weary from the previous battle, quickly began to fall back. There came one last blood-curdling scream and then the bird women fled.
‘Go back to where you came from, Celene will never be yours,’ Issa screamed at their fleeing backs. She watched the ravens chase them away until the fast fleeing harpies were lost from view. Unable to keep up with the larger faster bird women, the ravens began to turn back.
Issa raised her arms up to the circling ravens, ‘Brothers and sisters, messengers of Zanufey, return to your homes across Maioria. Speak to all the Daluni that you find. Tell them Baelthrom and his Maphraxies have destroyed the goddess’s most sacred isle, tell them about the fall of Celene. Then tell them all that Zanufey is with us. Tell them we must unite all against the immortals and drive them from Maioria for ever!’
The ravens cawed in response and then turned in different directions to return to their homes before disappearing into the invisible veil that separated the land of the living from the dead. Only one raven did not follow. Ehka, with his indigo aura, landed wearily at her feet.
Chapter 54
The Fall Of Celene
ISSA stepped back from the edge of the chasm and became aware of the others on the opposite side. Asaph’s face was bloody and pale, his shirt was in shreds and he still gripped his sword. Coronos leant heavily on his staff, clutching the Orb of Air firmly, his face a mask of fear and wonder, his cloak ripped and stained with blood. Duskar paced frantically backwards and forwards desperate to get to her.
Asaph beckoned to her but she could neither hear what he said nor felt like moving just yet. If she could see the blood that fell from the great gashes on her back and arms she might have felt compelled to move. Right now she stood in a strange silent world, empty of thought, feeling, and everything but the sense of calm.
She felt her knees buckle and she sank to the floor. The air began to rush around her then but did not touch her. Magic moved but she was beyond the ability to read it anymore. The ground began to move away
from her, or perhaps it was she that moved away from it. Below her the great chasm gaped, filled with white frothing sea. Then ground appeared once more and she felt soft grassy earth beneath her. The rushing air stopped, Coronos tucked away the Orb of Air and she lay blissfully on the soft grass.
‘Why did you not wait for us?’ Asaph’s worried face filled her vision.
Cloth was torn and wrapped around her shoulders. Beyond Asaph the long black face of Duskar peered over. She began to laugh weakly, suddenly it was all very funny.
‘Wait for what?’ she whispered. ‘I couldn’t stop them, they were already here. I don’t think they will be coming back anytime soon though,’ she laughed but Asaph’s face was like stone.
‘You should never have faced so many, you would have died! They will be back and more of them and who knows what else!’ he said and pulled a strip of cloth too tight, she cried out in pain. ‘Sorry,’ he sighed, the guilt softened his features.
‘Let them come,’ her vivid luminous eyes challenged his, ‘we cannot run and hide forever.’
He let out another sigh and wrapped more cloth around her. ‘Some of your wounds are deep. Let’s hope that they do not get infected. Come on, let us move from here before anything else turns up,’ he steadied her on her feet but her legs were like jelly so he carried her.
‘If you insist on fighting these beasts you’ll need more than this,’ he said tugging on what was left of her tunic that now revealed more flesh than it concealed, ‘and at least wait for me to help,’ he added indignantly, ‘who knows, you might need a dragon one day.’
She suppressed a giggle but caught the glint in his eye
‘I will always need a dragon, Asaph,’ she said seriously. Asaph blushed.
