by J. M. Topp
Coda lunged at Lord Bearohd, but before he got close enough, Bearohd put Spirit-breaker in a vertical stance and swung down, faster than Elymiah knew a sword so heavy could move. Bearohd’s sword grazed Coda’s shoulder. Coda swore as the slab of stone cut deep into the ground behind him. The cut in Coda’s sword arm was severe. He clutched at it and then changed sword hands.
Bearohd remained silent. He stood up, towering over Coda, and tapped the hilt of the sword on the ground. Then he pulled it up with one arm and levelled it at Coda.
‘You died.’
The air crackled around Bearohd, and he shot at Coda. He was too fast. The point of the sword sliced through Coda’s face, ripping his jaw in two.
‘No!’ shouted Elymiah. She tried to run to Coda, but Wischard grabbed her arms.
‘No, this is what fate has decided.’
‘Fuck off!’ shouted Elymiah. She rushed at Lord Bearohd and struck his abdomen with the point of her blade. Lord Bearohd dropped Coda and Spirit-breaker to the ground. He glared at Elymiah as his eyes alighted with fire, and his teeth sharpened themselves before her eyes.
Elymiah bared her teeth. ‘How long have you had a pact with a daemon?’
Wischard gasped as Lord Bearohd began to shed his skin and a black goo began to ooze from the tears in his flesh. Horns like that of an ox began to grow from the top of his head. The painted men behind Wischard drew their weapons but held them nervously. Elymiah glanced at Coda’s body. Though Spirit-breaker was still embedded in his head, his chest rose and fell. He was still alive. Elymiah spat on the grass beneath her and pulled her sword from Lord Bearohd’s stomach. She stood beside Wischard.
Bearohd glanced at the line of daemon hunters and Holdians. ‘You dare challenge me?’
‘Sure,’ said Elymiah.
‘Come closer!’ Bearohd screamed at the line of warriors and, in the blink of an eye, slammed into the line. Elymiah had only seen a move similar to that in Yorveth, when she’d slain the fel-wraith.
‘A pact with a daemon?’ whispered Wischard. Bearohd cleaved a Holdian’s head from his neck with his bare hands. In the next instant, he plunged his fists into the back of a daemon hunter. Then he swung his arms vertically and cut Amelinne’s hands from her forearms. This happened almost all at once, and a silver stream danced in the air behind Bearohd as he tore through the line. Then, the aftermath caught up with time. Heads rolled off bodies, and screams erupted from the line. Amelinne fell to her knees as her hands dropped from her forearms. Her scream was silent in her throat. Chaos erupted along the line. Bearohd was a blaze of a massive weapon.
Suddenly, Elymiah felt a rush of wind before her, and she instinctively held her sword up to her face and put her full force behind it. Just at that moment, she felt Bearohd, the daemon-infused man, clash into her. She would have been headless had she not reacted so quickly. She opened her eyes to see Bearohd staring at her, frozen in confusion. Elymiah took advantage of the short moment and brought her knee up in between Bearohd’s legs as hard as she could. His eyes widened, and he fell to the ground.
Elymiah stood with an evil gleam in her eye. She drew back and shoved the point of her sword through Bearohd’s skull, cracking through bone like a melon. His eyes greyed out, and she pulled her sword from his head. He fell forward onto the grass, and then it was over.
Elymiah held her sword and turned to the Holdians. They looked on with eyes just as wide as Bearohd’s had been. They all stared at her, afraid to move, but then, as she brushed sweat from her brow, she realised they were not looking at her. She heard a soft gurgle behind her, and she turned her head slowly. Bearohd’s body convulsed and spasmed violently on the grass. The dead man lifted his head. A red gash dripping with blood rested in the middle of his forehead, but his greyed-out eyes stared at Elymiah.
‘I cannot be killed by a mere woman, even a woman such as you,’ he gurgled as he stood up. Gore and grey bits dripped from his skull, and he bared his teeth at her.
‘How is this possible?’ she asked, too stunned even to move.
Bearohd rushed at her, fist raised, and struck her stomach. Elymiah felt faint but then looked down. Her metallic arm held the cursed fist steady. She threw Bearohd’s fist away from her body, and she slashed at him, this time slicing his bones from chest to mid-spine, severing every organ in between, spilling blood from his stomach. But the Keeper of the Reef only laughed. A bitter feeling of worry washed over her. Is there no way to kill this man?
She plunged her sword into his stomach. Bearohd grabbed her good arm and drew the blade further into his stomach, slicing deeper and deeper, snarling as she came close. He raised a fist in the air.
‘What would you do without any arms, Elymiah Farnesse? Would you continue to replace limbs with metallic ones? I won’t kill you, because that is something I certainly would like to see.’ Elymiah gritted her teeth, but just before the Keeper of the Reef could bring his fist down on her, a monstrous scream resounded through the grotto. Bearohd paused, the intensity of the shout drawing his attention away from her, and he dropped her onto the grass. Rocks began to fall from the tall ceiling, and the earth trembled beneath them. Elymiah’s heart rose as a wyvern as tall as the hallway burst into the grotto, tossing rock and dust from its body.
Dorma raised his tattered wings and bared his teeth at Bearohd.
The Keeper of the Reef smiled. He walked to Coda and pulled Spirit-breaker from his wound. He held the massive weapon with both hands before him. Elymiah saw a red glow emanate from Dorma’s neck, and she scurried away as fast as she could from Lord Bearohd.
Dorma coughed and then shot a spray of flames and sparks from his jaws. The dragon’s breath engulfed Bearohd in liquid fire. The Keeper of the Reef shouted in agony, dropping Spirit-breaker from his hands. Dorma continuously blew fire from his throat and approached Bearohd, step by step. The wyvern flapped his wings and lifted himself into the air, keeping the stream of fire constant. Then he stopped.
Bearohd’s body dropped to the ground, and as if he had been doused in water, the fire died on his blackened flesh. His body convulsed again. Dorma coughed ashes from his mouth, but there was no more fire to be had in his stomach. Elymiah looked over the charred body and the grass around the burnt Lord of the Reef. Then, Bearhod lifted himself up off the grass. A creaking laugh emanated from the throat of the man, but man he was no more. The flesh of his skull had burnt away. His chest muscle fell from his body and plopped onto the ground in a steaming pile of meat.
‘I am immortal!’ he shouted. ‘You cannot kill me.’
Dorma pounced on Bearohd, crushing him into the ground. The wyvern lifted the charred body up and flung him into the air. Bearohd landed on the grotto floor. Elymiah heard the sickening crunching of bone. Dorma pounced on him again, but this time the wyvern tore his head off and crushed it in his mouth like a melon. The wyvern craned his neck and swallowed the charred meat in his mouth. Over and over again, Dorma tore chunks of flesh off the body, and soon there was nothing left of Bearohd except his sword on the grass.
The wyvern licked his lips and shook his scales.
Elymiah let herself fall to the ground. The battle was finished. Lord Bearohd was consumed, and the attack on Karagh Muín was over. Her arm shook, and her breaths came in short gasps. She had probably broken a rib in the skirmish. Dorma snorted smoke from his nostrils and lay on the grass beside Elymiah.
Wischard was the first to speak up. ‘That dragon speaks to you?’
‘It’s not a—’ began Elymiah, but then she remembered Coda. She ran to his side. His eyes were still, and bits of dirt rested on his face. The skin on the left side of his face was torn, exposing bone and teeth. His jaw hung out of joint, and he struggled to draw breath.
‘Coda,’ she whispered. ‘Theodric, hurry!’
Theodric shook himself from his trance and ran to her side.
‘You have to do something, Theodric,’ she said.
Theodric motioned to two other Veledred. ‘Find Guiomar. Get
him over here!’
Coda rasped, and his chest rose and fell, but only barely. Elymiah knelt beside him and held his head close to her chest.
‘Stay with me, Coda,’ she said through clenched teeth. Guiomar emerged from the prisons. He hadn’t known there was a battle, as he had been asleep, and was just now being informed of the invasion. Wide-eyed, the old guard rushed to Elymiah’s side and, after one look at Coda, shouted for the other Veledred to rush the wounded warrior to the castle infirmary. Elymiah picked herself up, but before she could run after Coda, Theodric held her shoulders.
‘Commandant, you have done all you can for him. He is still breathing and in good hands. Trust Guiomar.’
Elymiah sniffed and wiped tears from her eyes. She was visibly shaken, yet she had a duty to perform as Commandant of the Veledred. She stood and turned to the remaining Veledred and her Holdians. Amelinne was being rushed after Guiomar by another Veledred, and the Holdians who had come with Bearohd were huddled behind Wischard. The remaining daemon hunters then surrounded the Holdians with swords drawn. Without Bearohd, they were no match for Elymiah and her hunters. Theodric stood beside Elymiah.
‘What do you intend to do with the Holdians sided to Lord Bearohd, Elymiah? They betrayed you and our treaty,’ said Theodric.
Elymiah shook her head and walked to Dorma’s side.
‘I assume you will want to take the name Keeper of the Reef?’ asked Wischard. ‘There is no contest to your rule, not whilst you have a creature like that as an ally.’
Dorma snorted again and hungrily crunched his jaw.
‘No,’ said Elymiah. ‘I bear too many titles. I care not for ceremony or decorum. However, it is not up to me to decide who is to be named Keeper of the Reef. That is a decision best left to you.’
Wischard glanced at the men behind him. ‘This is a decision that will take time.’
‘Take all the time you need, Wischard. If you’ll excuse me, I have to see to Coda.’
‘Theodric,’ said one of the surviving Veledred who had returned from escorting Amelinne away. He wore green, but he did not bear the three-wolves crest of the Veledred. He stood before Theodric, attempting to catch his breath. ‘We were betrayed.’
Elymiah turned to the acolyte. ‘What do you mean?’
‘It was Zigi. He allowed Lord Bearohd in. He is the one who sold us out.’
‘That’s impossible. Zignumerand is Castellan of the Veledred; he would never do such a thing,’ said Theodric, a look of bewilderment clouding his face.
Elymiah gritted her teeth. ‘Lead me to him. This is my kill. Dorma, stay here and make sure these Holdians don’t forget who I am. Theodric and any Veledred who can still hold a weapon, follow me.’
Dorma snarled at the remaining men of Saltkire Hold. They took a step back but remained in the grotto as Elymiah instructed.
Elymiah squeezed the hilt of her bloodied sword as she ran to the castellan’s quarters. She rushed through the hall with Theodric, the acolyte, and Wischard close behind her. Dorma would not have been able to fit through the stone structure, but she hoped she wouldn’t need the wyvern. She stopped just before the door and stared at the runes carved into the wood.
‘He is there,’ said the acolyte. ‘He hasn’t come out during the entire invasion.’
Elymiah touched the runes on the door. ‘With the power of lords…’ she whispered and then turned to her daemon hunters. ‘I will go in alone. If I do not come out, you must burn this place.’
‘What if he comes out and not you?’ asked Theodric.
‘He may be a changeling, but he cannot replicate everything about me,’ she said. ‘Dorma would not recognise him.’ She closed her eyes. ‘If I cannot kill Zignumerand then no one can. Burn this entire place to the ground.’
‘Good luck, Elymiah Farnesse,’ said Theodric.
Elymiah opened the runed door slowly.
An intense warmth greeted her, but the castellan’s chambers were dark. She closed the door behind her and held her sword before her. Blood was beginning to dry on the blade. Zignumerand was nowhere to be seen. Her metallic arm pulsed with blue light, casting a foreboding glow in the chamber.
‘You were supposed to die in the Caves of Vammar Sanctum, Elymiah Farnesse, along with your father,’ said a voice from the shadows.
‘That was your plan all along, wasn’t it? To take over as Commandant of the Veledred. But then I showed up and mucked up your plans.’ Elymiah held her sword with both hands and turned in a circle, straining her ear for any movement or sign of the traitorous castellan.
‘Gulch, was that your doing too?’ she asked.
‘You are far too clever for your own good,’ said the voice with a laugh that sounded more like a cackle. ‘Together, Lord Bearohd and I were going to invade the Khahadran and take Aivaterra. Perhaps I should have included you in my plans, seeing as you are more resilient than I anticipated. It was the help of that fool Theodric that made you so strong. I should never have entrusted your care to him.’
‘Perhaps you should have included me in your plans, Castellan. I would have relished the thought of invading the Khahadran, Zigi, but I could never have betrayed my father.’
‘A caveat to having you killed, Elymiah. A kraken couldn’t kill you, and a giant was defeated by your hands. But I am no mere man, as you well know.’
Elymiah smiled. ‘And I am no mere woman.’
A whistle in the dark made her whip back with her sword horizontally levelled instinctively. A dagger clashed against her blade and clattered onto the ground. Two more daggers hissed through the darkness. Elymiah blocked one with her metal arm, but the other found its mark in her shoulder blade. She gritted her teeth and pulled the dagger out. She knelt and found her breath, then stood up and scanned the room. There weren’t many places a man like that could hide. She picked up one of the daggers from the floor and held it sideways below her sword. As she made her way cautiously to the desk, a shadow from above dropped upon her.
Zigi stomped on the desk and jabbed a golden tracer at Elymiah’s neck. She blocked the blade with her metal hand, but instead of returning the blow to his head as she was certain Zignumerand expected her to do, she slammed the dagger into his foot, piercing through his boot and into the wooden desk. Zigi howled in pain.
‘You bitch!’ He sliced the air with his tracer, but Elymiah ducked.
She twisted the dagger into the wooden desk so it would not be so easily unstuck. Zignumerand screamed once more. Elymiah stood back and squeezed the hilt of her sword. Zigi leaned down and tried to free himself, but the dagger wouldn’t budge. He threw the tracer at Elymiah, but she blocked the blade with her metal forearm. The tracer clattered onto the floor.
‘Set me free,’ he grunted. Blood dripped in between his toes.
‘I will, trust me,’ said Elymiah, but then Zigi’s voice changed.
‘Set me free, Ely.’
She looked up. Her eyes met Robyn’s crystal blue eyes. She gasped.
‘Robyn? How? You’d never met him.’ She took a step back.
‘Why did you push me off the edge of the ship?’ asked Robyn.
‘What are you talking about? I never…’ whispered Elymiah. ‘The sacrifices I made for you... I would have done so much more if you had but given me a chance.’ Tears collected in her eyes, blurring her vision. ‘You took everything from me. I would have killed the world for you.’
Robyn loosened the dagger embedded in the desk and, with a grunt, pulled it from his boot. He let the bloodied knife fall from his hands.
‘You don’t remember, do you? Artus and all the men on board the Painted Basilisk were witnesses to the murder you carried out. You tried to kill me, Elymiah. You pushed me from the edge of the ship into the roaring sea.’
‘No, it cannot be.’ Elymiah shook her head and took another step back. She knew Zignumerand was a changeling, but for some reason she couldn’t stop her heart from crumbling inside her.
‘Ah, I see. You cannot even recall that
memory, can you?’ Robyn knelt before her. ‘You lied to yourself at that moment. You tried to kill me, and then you tried to kill yourself. You are a failure to both the living and the dead.’
‘Stop, don’t do this. I know it’s still you, Zigi,’ spat Elymiah. She grabbed the dagger from the floor and stood up.
Robyn closed his eyes. ‘Zignumerand was a disguise your father and I came up with. You see, after he made you black out, I was pulled back onto the ship. I nearly drowned, but Captain Ornelis revived me. Whilst you slept, we devised a plan.’
‘So all those trials? What were they for?’
‘They were to see if you still loved me.’
‘Of course I do. I always will. I would never try to hurt you.’
‘Lies,’ said Robyn. ‘You tried once. I had to be sure you never would again.’
Elymiah wiped the tears from her eyes and shook her head. It was too good of a story. ‘Tell me, if it is really you, what colour was the rose you gave me in my quarters in Weserith? The one you claimed was from Khaevedal Swamp.’
‘Why, red, like all roses, of course,’ said Robyn with a laugh. Elymiah plunged the dagger into his gut. Immediately, Robyn’s face melted to reveal the ugly visage of Zignumerand Kaathe. His eyes fluttered, and he fell to the ground.
Elymiah reared up and punched him with her metal arm. The castellan hit the ground hard and remained still. ‘The rose had red and purple. You would never forget it once you saw it.’
A flood of emotions rushed over her, and she fell to her knees, sobbing. Why? Will the pain and memories never end? She glanced over at Zignumerand, almost wishing for him again to take the face of the man she had loved more than anything else. She slammed her metallic fist onto the stone floor. The stones split, and the door to the study creaked open.
‘Elymiah?’ asked Theodric.
‘Enter,’ she said, this time not bothering to wipe away the tears. She stifled a sob and stood up.
