“So that, after they kill or drive me off, they can use it to invade Avalon directly,” I said with a sigh, and the short sprite nodded again.
That made sense. It also made sense to search for the Pathways leading to Avalon on the Woadlands and the Sun-Jeweled Seas as well, but that was going to be much harder. The Malus Earthborn didn’t know where those Pathways were, and after being revived, both worlds were in a much better position to drive off a new force of invaders anyway. Via had her Saga ship and growing Atlantean fleet, and Merada had her powerful new magic and slowly growing army of Gaelguard.
By contrast, not only was this world technically still under Malus control, Warren’s lackeys would be able to easily discern my location, thanks to the very noticeable death of Fragglerock. I was most likely to be near Nedjena, which meant the Pathway I had come from would be near the city as well. Their best bet was likely to reach this area quickly and blanket it with as much personnel as possible, all while their superstar team of Malus and Horde elites hunted me personally. If that wasn’t enough, they’d be accomplishing these objectives with Dark Icon support, assuming they had already replaced Raw-Maw.
Dude, they’ve totally replaced Raw-Maw by now, Teeth spoke up. If they have any dignity at all, they would have started on that as soon as we finished scraping him off our boot.
“Speaking of Pathways,” Salima spoke up, moving closer, “do we know where the new forces will come from? Someone said they could just teleport.”
“Only the Malus Earthborn could,” Eadric replied, as the other two Testifiers nodded. “But the Hordebeasts never could. And as far as we can tell, the Lord Challenger destroyed their portal network to this planet.”
“That should be accurate,” I replied. “From what Chris told me, their projected bodies can remain in a world if their consciousness returns to Earth, and they can sometimes return to the same world where they died, if the death isn’t too traumatic. Otherwise, they’re stuck using the same Pathways everyone else is. Their reinforcements won’t be able to just teleport here.”
“So they’re limited to using the Pathways from Pangea, the Spirit Kingdoms, and the Dawnlands,” the tan woman said confidently. “Good.”
I was reminded of the charter of her group, which included their responsibility as pathfinders to ensure the health of trade routes and economic travel.
“Do your people know all the locations of those?” I asked, narrowing my eyes in consideration.
“I know where they were dozens and dozens of centuries ago,” she replied smugly. “And none of them are anywhere close to us. It will take them weeks of travel, unless they use the most powerful magic to get here. And if they do use magic, they will likely be spent and vulnerable. Not to mention, it will still take more than a day for them to get here.”
“Vulnerable,” I repeated as the gears turned in my head, standing back up. “Things are clear now. We needed to come back here and regroup, but we have a window during which they’re out of position to defend themselves. We’re retaking this town for the time being, and by that, I mean we’re going to find every last Malus operative within its walls, and we will kill them as thoroughly as possible, so that they can’t return. Then we’re going to leave, link up with Anahita, and use the Wealthwalkers’ travel abilities,” I pointed to Salima and the other Dunegraced elves, “to get to the next city as quickly as possible and start causing trouble.”
I stopped and contemplated Breena and Petalbell, and another thought popped into my mind.
“While we’re doing that, we’re going to coordinate a new way to establish contact with Avalon. We can’t stop Malus operatives or Horde from coming here, and I don’t want them finding the Pathway, even if it turns out that we can seal it on our end. This isn’t a normal Tumult, even with that asshole in the desert waking up. We’re going to need more than just one crack team of heroes to reclaim this world, so we’re going to use our forces back on Avalon, and possibly the other worlds as well. If we can keep this Pathway secure, or at least hidden, we can set up a team of fairies on either side of it and use their messaging spells for long-range communication. That’ll let us direct the rest of the Dunegraced elves back on Avalon to perform more guerrilla warfare, which means we can hit multiple key objectives at the same time. Or maybe we can set up ambushes between the cities.”
“The second task is one we could do easily,” Rashem, one of the other Wealthwalkers, said. “Traveling through the desert will be difficult for our enemies. However, it is still a risky proposition, given the fact that a Dark Icon and other powerful beings will be accompanying them. We would fight them on your behalf, but be prepared that we will take some losses.”
I gave him a firm shake of my head, then met everyone’s eyes as I scanned the room.
“No,’ I said levelly, “and understand that by ‘no,’ I mean that it is always possible for one of us to die, but it will be a bad trade in this circumstance. I’m sure that your elders back home are turning some of my ex-refugees into new Wealthwalkers, just as the elders from the other worlds are turning them into new Gaelguard and Scholar-Marines. But at this point in time, losing just one of my crack fighters will be a huge strategic loss in our side’s power, while the enemy has already proven that they can easily replace the loss of a Dark Icon custom-designed to hunt me. Ignoring my morals and personal feelings, we have to accept that we need to minimize risk just as much as we need to maximize the damage our operations can do.”
That was apparently the right thing to say, judging by the emotions running through the mindlink.
“That said,” I continued, “the best way to minimize our risks is to actually increase my own personal danger. The Dark Icon and the Pit Knights will both be after me. They’re not here to do anything else. So if they have good evidence that I will be in a certain location, they’re going to focus on that place, at the very least. They may even go rabid and insane, much like the Hordebeasts at the tomb did, as soon as they had learned of my presence.”
Everyone nodded at that, remembering the repetitive cries of ‘traitor-prince’ from the smaller Hordebeasts.
“So I’m personally going to stick to the cities, in an attempt to lure the Pit Knights away from the traveling troops and supply caravans. Hopefully, we can isolate them further within the cities and take them out in small groups. If not, we leave whatever settlement we’re in and force them to chase us to the next one, and start over, doing whatever damage we can to the local Malus forces as we go. But the key is for us to move quickly and do as much damage as we can before they arrive, then keep moving, keep causing destruction, until their entire power base on this world is so off-balance that we can topple it over with one hard push.”
“And then we deal with the creature out in the distant desert,” Karim interjected gravely, with a somber face.
“And then we deal with Mr. Sandman out in the wastes, assuming he hasn’t made his presence known here,” I confirmed with a nod. “Any other questions?”
Everyone else shook their heads. If there was a problem with my strategy, either they missed it as well, or they decided it was unavoidable.
But I needed to stop worrying about it.
I let out another Breath, this one much shorter, concentrating my current needs. The power obeyed my directive and merely circulated through the current city.
To my surprise, it returned to me rather quickly.
More anger.
More hate.
A desire to lash out in rage.
The knowledge that they would be held responsible for letting this disaster happen.
They had to do something. Someone local would know something.
And they knew just who to target.
“They’re going after the Testifier college,” I gasped as soon as the Breath released my mind. “They’ll be there soon. We have to hurry.”
“We’ll lead the way,” Salima said as the rest of her people rose to their feet and gathered into a traveling formatio
n, inhaling in the same fashion I had.
My crew and I filtered behind them, assumed combat stance, and moved out.
We moved quickly, abandoning stealth, because we knew where our foes were, though I did reactivate Carnwennan’s shroud to cloak us.
I briefly worried whether it was some kind of trap, before I remembered the desperation I had felt from the Breath, and reminded myself that my enemies didn’t have the numbers or power in place to move against me earlier. The team guarding Fragglerock’s prison was the most elite group that they had in the Golden Sands, and they couldn’t stand up to my retinue or my Wealthwalkers.
The Malus operatives were acting out of desperation, wanting to avoid or minimize the punishment that would come from the people they thought could truly hurt them, because they still feared Warren Rhodes more than they feared me.
It was time to correct that.
Thanks to the route we took and the magic we cast, we arrived at the Testifier’s college in a matter of minutes.
Predictably, there was a crowd.
The street in front of the entrance was a mass of furred forms and black robes. I counted over a hundred whiskered, pointy-eared Miscreants and hulking, ape-like Mongrels, with some of the Mongrels outfitted in more decorated platemail, but Spawns were noticeably missing from the group. Apparently, the local Malus Men didn’t want any Horde strong enough to challenge their authority.
There were five enemy Earthborn present. That felt like a small number, even for a city this ruined, but Chris had implied earlier that there weren’t actually that many Malus Members in their organization, at least compared to the number of planets they were all seeking to dominate.
But the local Testifiers at the gate took the rest of my attention.
Headmaster Moram stood in front of the gates to the college, with a dozen robed Saga-wizards waiting behind the opening. The dark-skinned master of the local college glared defiantly at the black-clad tyrant from Earth in front of him, all apprehension and fear finally gone.
“Do not make me repeat myself,” the Headmaster said in a voice resonating with Song magic. “You are forbidden from entering my college. Remove your presence from our entryway, and take your pack of abominations with you. Or we will be driven to use force to compel your departure.”
“You?” the rasping figure in the hood said in disbelief. “Force? Since when could you force us to do anything in our city? Tell us where the Challenger is hiding, now. Or we will begin killing your students indiscriminately.”
“I could always force you,” the Headmaster said, the odd inflections of his voice sending whip-like cracks of power across the ruined cobblestones paving the street. “I have always had the ability to make you pay if you went too far in your depravities regarding both my college and my city. But I restrained myself, because of the consequences which my actions would bring upon the people of Nedjena. However, you are no longer the highest power in this world. Men and women must no longer sacrifice their dignity for the sake of their families’ lives. Get out of my city, you detestable cretins, or I will slay you myself, and offer your corpses to the Challenger as an apology for my misplaced resentment at his late arrival.”
Hey, I like that guy, Teeth spoke up as my team filtered into ambush formation.
Me, too, I agreed as I drew Skybreaker and readied an arrow, but let’s go ahead and save him the trouble of carrying through with his threat.
I gave the signal and fired into the middle of the group.
The Testifiers released their magic at the same time, projecting the same combined working which they had used back in the Woadlands to prevent projected bodies from teleporting instantly. Supposedly, they had met with Chris’ pet scientist to somehow fine-tune it further. I had to admit, I was impressed as I felt their magic ripple out into the Malus Earthborn. But the best part was watching as their eyes widened in horrified surprise once the magic latched onto them.
Once their amalgamated spellform was fully released, the Testifiers joined the rest of my retinue in unleashing missiles and magic into our enemies’ midst.
They stood in a large street, large enough for me to feel comfortable being destructive in it, and a large number of bodies filled the space. The local Malus chapter must have rallied all the Horde they could find with the intention of burning the college to the ground, while assuming that they wouldn’t meet any real resistance—which probably meant that they had committed wide-scale murder like this before, and the local inhabitants had been forced to go along with it or face even harsher treatment. Moram’s resistance clearly surprised them, as did his faith in my being able to make a difference, which was immediately supported by our explosively violent vindication of said faith.
Each elven arrow sliced through a mere two or three Hordebeasts apiece—which was surprising, given how tightly packed the monsters were, and how powerful these enhanced arrows had proven themselves to be. Evidently, either the Hordebeasts’ armor or vital guards were more durable than those of the average Mongrel or Miscreant.
Despite that frustrating new detail, there were a dozen Dunegraced archers in my group, and my own arrow landed in the midst of the crowded street like the miniature ballista bolt that the ancient Dunegraced engineers had intended it to be. Every creature within ten feet of the blast disintegrated into powder, and those within twenty feet were sent hurtling into the air.
The only exceptions were the dark-robed Malus Members and two or three heavily armored Mongrels. Each of them were encased in a shimmering shield of red or green energy, respectively.
“The traitor-prince is here!” the largest Mongrel shouted in a guttural roar, brandishing an oversized cleaver that burst into green flames. “Kill the traitor-”
The rest of his sentence was drowned out by my next arrow. If at first you don’t succeed, try again, I thought to myself as the bolt blasted into their midst. Two of the robed Malus figures stumbled back as their shields shattered. I caught a brief glimpse of a Val-shaped shadow flickering toward one, and the other’s body rocked and finally split apart under numerous blasts of lightning and fire.
Undeterred, the Malus cultist who had addressed the Headmaster uttered an indecipherable incantation that made all of our enemies blur and flicker.
A concealment spell, I heard Karim and Breena whisper into my mind at the same time. It’ll make the rest of our projectiles go off target, my bonded fairy continued, and it’s powerful enough to mean that we might miss the street itself and hit the Testifier college behind it. I’ll try to fix it, but it will take some time, and until then, we’ll need to be mindful of collateral damage.
Fair enough, I conceded, dismissing my bow and summoning both Toirneach and Colada. We’ll handle the rest of this in a more personal fashion.
“Get ready to close in,” I said aloud to the group, then leapt straight for the Malus leader.
CHAPTER 5: TURF WAR
My eyes locked onto the shadow under the dark, heavy cowl. I could barely make out my enemy’s mouth gasping in surprised recognition, but the next moment, a large, hulking shape stepped into my path.
It was the largest Mongrel in the group, the one who had called out earlier.
I was unimpressed. I had been killing this level of Hordebeast since before leaving Avalon, and still carried the cleaver I had looted from one of the Mongrel captains. Or did I hand that off to someone? I asked myself. Whatever. Let’s crunch his head in with Toirneach and keep going.
But the Mongrel captain reacted quickly. His flaming cleaver slashed out and met my axe edge on edge.
The force of my swing extinguished the fire covering his heavy blade. He was instantly driven back, skidding across the cobblestones as he struggled to parry my blow with both hands. I heard him hiss in surprise, saw his arm tremble violently, saw him work to keep his own weapon from crashing into his chest and face.
But I was still surprised. Most Mongrels I had faced so far, even the empowered captains, wouldn’t have even been able to
do this much. With all the power I had gained recently, I should have been able to just split the bastard in half and continue running. Apparently, the same species of Hordebeast could vary more in strength than I’d realized—which meant the Malus Members probably could, too.
The Mongrel captain skidded another step back, every visible muscle quaking, and I took the opportunity to strike with the weapon in my other hand. Colada stabbed out, aiming for the Mongrel captain’s throat, who made a surprisingly good attempt at dodging it. But the blade inexorably stabbed through the side of the monster’s neck, piercing through the magical green shield that flickered into existence and shattered less than a second later. Electrical power coursed through my blade and into his collapsing body, and I tore past the prone, now-twitching ape-man to head for my original target.
The Malus cultist summoned a dark-red ball of fire and hurled it straight at me. Instinctively, I threw my Woadland hatchet into the ball, causing it to explode in mid-air.
Knives in the Night Page 6
