by R S Penney
Hanak Tuvar shrieked as the crystal pierced its flesh.
Desa rose, drawing her left-hand pistol and cocking the hammer. She extended her hand and fired several shots toward the beast, each round melting into a glob of liquid metal when it entered the distortion field.
It didn’t matter.
The third bullet was a Force-Source.
She triggered it, releasing another surge of kinetic energy that shattered the crystal. Hanak Tuvar roared as the rainbow spread over its oily skin. Dancing backwards, it tried to get away. But it was like trying to escape sunlight in the desert. Sizzling steam rose from the demon. And then it vanished.
“That’s right,” Desa whispered. “Keep running.”
A short time later – ten minutes, maybe fifteen – she heard the footsteps of horses and saw the approach of distant lights. Rojan marched up to her, scowling. “That,” he said, “was entirely reckless.”
Desa stood up, exhaustion hitting her like a tidal wave. She pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. “Unavoidable,” she replied. “We had to subdue it or it would have overpowered us. I think I bought us some time.”
Folding his arms with a sigh, Rojan tilted his head to one side. “And how did you do that?”
“I wounded it.”
“Fine,” he said. “Let’s put as much distance between us and this place as possible. We’ll march another two hours.”
Clouds filled the sky on their fifth day of travel, bringing with them a dreary, sombre mood. Everyone plodded along with heavy footsteps. They had spent the morning riding at a good pace to gain even more ground, but after lunch, Rojan had decided that it was best to walk and let the horses rest.
Walking, however, made it impossible to grow new crystals. They still had plenty to spare, and there had been no sign of the demon since their encounter the night before, but Desa still worried. If she had her way, they would spend every waking second creating as many crystals as possible. But such plans weren’t feasible.
Tommy walked at her side, leading his white mare by the bridle. “Mighty brave what you did last night,” he said. “Brave and maybe just a little bit stupid.”
Desa gave him a sidelong glance, her mouth twisting in distaste. “What happened to the uncertain boy that I rescued from a sleepy village a year ago?” she asked. “The one who went along with everything I said without question?”
“He grew up.”
Grinning, Desa felt a touch of heat singeing her cheeks. “Yes,” she said, nodding. “He did. So, Thomas, what would you have done?”
“Probably the same thing you did.”
“But you just said it was stupid.”
He chuckled and replied with a halfhearted shrug. “It was stupid,” he insisted. “But I never said I was a smart man.”
“Smarter than most, in my experience.”
Lifting a toothpick with two fingers, Tommy slipped it into his mouth. He gnawed on it for a few seconds before working up the nerve to speak. “So, is it true?” he asked. “What you told Rojan? Is Hanak Tuvar aware of our plan?”
“Have you known me to lie?”
“No, I suppose not,” he muttered. “But then why are we going through with it? If we know it isn’t going to work…”
Stomping through the damp grass and leading Midnight by his bridle, Desa lowered her eyes to stare down at her feet. “Do you have any better ideas?” she asked. “Maybe the demon is overconfident. Maybe we will be able to trap it. I would rather try and fail than do nothing.”
“Suppose that’s all we can do.”
As the day wore on, Desa noticed a strip of green on the western horizon. They had reached Ander’s Woods. If the maps were correct, they would spend three days crossing the forest, and when they emerged on the other side, they would quickly find themselves on the desert’s eastern border.
The final leg of their trip would prove to be the most difficult. The desert was uniform in all directions. It was easy to get lost if you deviated from the established trade routes. And Mercy’s abandoned city was nowhere near those routes. Luckily it wasn’t far from the eastern border. A day’s ride at most. With over twenty Field-Binders in their company, someone was bound to sense the crystal’s pulses.
You hope, Desa noted.
She said very little as they approached the forest. At one point, Dalen came up to walk beside Tommy, and the pair fell into a quiet conversation. Desa felt a twinge of anxiety upon seeing the former librarian. Back in Ofalla, she had been prepared to insist that Dalen and Miri should stay behind – there was little that either one of them could do on this trip, and she saw no reason why they should put themselves in danger – but Miri had shot down that idea before Desa opened her mouth.
Then again, having them along felt right. After so many journeys together, they had become a family. It was fitting that they should face this final challenge together.
In the late afternoon, Rojan called a halt so they could rest. It seemed wise given that they had not seen any sign of Hanak Tuvar. She worried about that. The demon had been on their heels for the entirety of this trip. Perhaps it was lagging behind because she had wounded it. Or perhaps it had lost interest. Why attack the people who could hurt you when there was easier prey over the next hill?
She wasn’t sure what she would do if Hanak Tuvar stopped pursuing them. Desa wasn’t entirely clear on the plan, but Mercy seemed to think that the demon had to be near the crystal for this to work.
She sought out the Ether, scanning her surroundings for any sign of trouble. She found nothing within a mile. Only…What was that? She sensed motion on the very edge of her awareness, people coming in from the east. When she tried to brush them with her thoughts, she felt a wrongness, and she knew exactly what it was she was dealing with.
Desa severed contact with the Ether.
She ran through the camp, huffing and puffing, her heart thundering in her chest. “Rojan!” she called out. “Rojan, we’ve got trouble!”
He was standing next to a dappled gray, lightly patting the horse. When he heard her shouting, he gave a start and turned around. “What is it?”
Desa pointed into the distance behind him.
They came over a hill that Desa and her friends had crossed maybe ten minutes ago, climbing to the top and scrambling down the other side: a hundred gray bodies, each one stripped of colour from head to toe. When they saw her, they paused for half a second and then broke into a furious sprint, bounding across the land.
“Into the forest!” Rojan shouted. “Move!”
26
They fled into the woods.
The nearest path was only wide enough for two horses to run side by side, forcing them into a bottleneck. Tommy observed his surroundings from atop his white mare. Tall trees with leaves in full flower stood on either side of the meandering path. This forest wasn’t as dense as those he had seen in Ithanar, but there was no way they could get the horses over that uneven ground.
Clutching the reins, Tommy bent low to whisper to his mount. “You can do this.” The mare didn’t seem to notice his encouragement; she wasn’t smart like Midnight, but she was a good horse.
Gray shapes rushed past him on both sides of the path, enemies moving through the forest. By the Almighty! Those things were fast! They moved with a speed no ordinary person could match. He suspected that Hanak Tuvar was pushing them too hard, running them ragged until their bones snapped and their muscles tore.
More grays surged past above him, leaping from branch to branch. Why didn’t they attack? Was this just about intimidation or-
One of the creatures dropped down from a hanging branch, landing behind him on the mare’s back, causing the horse to whinny. A gray arm wrapped around Tommy, bony fingers grabbing his throat.
He squeezed his eyes shut and threw his head backward, smashing the creature’s nose with the back of his skull. That gave him some breathing room – literally – though he would pay for it with a headache later.
Leanin
g sideways, Tommy flung his elbow out behind himself, smashing the other man’s nose a second time. That, coupled with the mare taking a particularly sharp turn, was enough to shake the beast loose.
The gray man fell to the ground.
Two seconds later, it was trampled to death by Temiel’s horse, bones crunching under the gelding’s powerful hooves. But there were more of them! Tommy saw them trying to close in on the caravan from both sides.
Bouncing in the saddle, Tommy retrieved his pistol and cocked the hammer. He pointed the gun into the woods on his right and fired.
His shot took a gray woman in the shoulder, causing her to stumble and fall on her backside. Three others hopped over her, moving toward the path. Those snarling faces. There wasn’t a trace of intelligence left in those black eyes.
Adjusting his aim, Tommy fired again.
This bullet went into the ground, and he triggered a Force-Source that sent gray bodies flying along with a spray of dirt and dried leaves. The kinetic wave slammed into the horses that were coming up behind him, causing them to neigh and dance sideways. “Watch yourself, Eradian!” one of the other Field Binders shouted.
Tommy blushed.
This would be much easier if he could use his bow. Unfortunately, he had started restringing it this morning only to have Rojan order them to get moving before he could finish his work.
Scrunching up his face, Tommy shivered at the thought of those grubby, colourless hands pawing at him. “We have to regroup!” he bellowed. “Use the Ether to sever their connection to Hanak Tuvar!”
“Brilliant!” Andriel spat. She was right in front of him, riding a golden palomino with a shaggy, white mane. “We’ll just join hands in a circle and ask if they would mind sitting still while we cut them off from their master!”
A gray man leaped out of the treetops, trying to tackle her.
Andriel’s hand came up, and she released kinetic energy from her ring. The blast sent her would-be assailant flying away with enough force to crash through a branch. He dropped out of sight somewhere on Tommy’s left.
Tommy had to resist the urge to reply with a biting comment. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about Andriel coming along for this journey. Ill will from their skirmish last year still lingered within him.
“It’s the only way to stop them!” Tommy insisted.
“And it’s not an option!” Andriel shot back.
Red-faced and fuming, Tommy squinted at her. “You’ll do anything to undermine me,” he muttered under his breath. “Bloody Aladri. Think you’re so much smarter than everyone else.”
The man riding next to Andriel pointed one of those crescent-shaped pistols into the treetops. A hair-thin bolt of electricity erupted from his gun, striking a gray woman who stood upon a branch.
She trembled, falling backward into the forest.
Up ahead, the caravan came to an abrupt halt. Tommy’s horse reared, throwing her head back with a fearsome whinny before her hooves slammed down in the dirt. Men and women in gray cloaks flew past above him, dropping into the forest and engaging the grays there.
Tommy narrowed his eyes. “We need to be out there too.” He slipped off the mare, landing in the dirt, and then gave her a gentle pat. Drawing his pistol, he turned right and stalked off into the forest.
Miri joined him, carrying a rifle that she had taken from one of the wagons. Her jaw was set, her eyes as hard as granite. “Jim’s guarding Dalen,” she said. “And I will be guarding you.”
Cocking his head, Tommy raised an eyebrow. “You sure it’s not the other way around?” The dirty look he received told him not to press that point.
They moved between the trees, over the uneven ground where roots slithered beneath the surface, occasionally poking up. Leaves fluttered in the soft wind. Twigs snapped underfoot.
Tommy stayed low with his pistol clutched in both hands, scanning this way and that. “I don’t see them,” he whispered. “Funny, they were more than willing to make a scene two minutes ago, but now they hide.”
“Tactics,” Miri hissed behind him.
They made their way toward a fat oak tree with drooping branches, its trunk gnarled and weathered from who knows how many winters. As they drew near, an old man with wispy hair stepped out into the open, carrying an axe. He was as gray as a stone with black eyes that seemed to glisten.
And he charged for them.
Extending his hand, Tommy pointed his pistol down at the ground. He fired a single round that landed two feet in front of the old codger, releasing a blast of kinetic energy that sent the man flying backward into the tree. More grays surrounded them, moving toward them in a ring.
Tommy dropped to a crouch, extending a closed fist toward one and projecting a stream of crackling electricity that struck the gray fellow’s chest. The poor fool was thrown to the ground.
Miri spun to face one, worked the lever of her rifle and fired, her barrel flashing as thunder split the air. Her shot ripped through the chest of a woman in a bonnet, dropping her. A dark-skinned man stepped over her corpse as he shambled toward Miri. She ran to fight with him.
Tommy trotted toward a group of three with his pistol held up beside his head. He slid to a stop, aimed his gun and fired.
His bullet whizzed through the narrow gap between two gray men, and when it passed them, Tommy pulsed the Gravity-Source. All three grays were yanked backward, landing in the dirt.
“Watch it!” Miri snarled.
With the trio down and momentarily incapacitated, Tommy let loose another stream of lightning, bathing them in so much electricity it scorched them black. They stopped squirming a few seconds later.
“Watch my back,” Desa said.
She stood in the woods on the south side of the path, a dagger in each hand. Perhaps a dozen grays were trying to surround her. Would Hanak Tuvar possess one as it had last time? Or was it too wounded for that?
Kalia was right behind her, standing back to back. The other woman shot a glance over her shoulder and then nodded. “You got it.”
One of the grays – a hollow-cheeked man with a broken nose – stumbled toward her. Without warning, he broke into a sprint. Desa ran to meet him.
She leaped, pulsing her Gravity-Sink, and flipped over his head. Dropping to the ground behind him, she landed in a crouch. With a twist of her body, she slashed the back of his knee, severing the tendon.
The man fell over before he got near Kalia. Desa heard her lover’s gun going off and the thump of men hitting the dirt. She dispatched the one she had just immobilized, plunging a blade into his back and releasing enough heat to roast him.
Three more came at her: one in front, two flanking him.
Desa ran for them.
She jumped with another quick pulse of her Gravity-Sink, twirling in the air for a roundhouse kick that struck the lead man’s jaw. His head wrenched sideways, a tooth flying out of his mouth.
Spinning around, Desa landed with her back to him. She twirled her dagger into a reverse grip, backed up and rammed it into his stomach. The Heat-Sink drained the warmth from his flesh. Frost covered him from head to toe. When she pulled the blade free, he fell over and shattered.
The other two came up behind her.
Pulsing her Sink, Desa jumped a good ten feet into the air and let them stumble past beneath her. She landed with a grunt, daggers ready. She slashed one man with her left-hand dagger – scorching him to ash – and the other with her right-hand dagger, freezing him solid.
Two more down.
A gray man hopped between two trees.
Hoisting up her rifle, Miri stepped forward with a growl and fired. Her bullet ripped through the bearded brute’s chest, producing a spray of black blood. The old man fell on his backside, thrashing in the dirt, the darkness slowly fading from his eyes. Hanak Tuvar had let him go. How many was that now? She had lost count.
Miri turned and ran.
She dropped to her knees, sliding through the mud, narrowly evading a spindly man who tried
to grab her. That one stumbled past, having over-extended himself, and fell on his face behind her.
Her slide brought her to a tall, heavyset man without an ounce of colour anywhere on his body. That one almost seemed to smile when he looked upon her. His fat hands trembled with anticipation.
He reached for her.
Miri stood, raising her rifle horizontally, striking his arms and knocking them upward. She swung the stock into his belly, making him flinch, then twisted and slammed the end of the barrel into his cheek. The man stumbled.
She kicked him in the gut, forcing him down onto his knees. Then, with another quick pivot, she brought the stock around to smash his forehead. The poor fool made almost no noise as he fell over to land on his side.
Sweat rolled over Miri’s face. She blinked a few times, catching her breath. “It doesn’t make sense.”
Tommy was off to her left, fending off a pair of youths who had lost every trace of colour. He stretched a hand toward them, and they both flew away, propelled by some unseen force. “What doesn’t?”
“Hanak Tuvar,” she shouted. “It’s smart enough to spend ten millennia plotting its escape, subtly manipulating people with false promises of infinite power, tricking them into writing its narrative into religious texts.”
“And?”
“And then it throws the same useless tactics at us?”
Tommy went pale, turning his head to stare at her with wide eyes. “You think we’re missing something?” he gasped. “Something important.”
Miri backed away from a copse of trees, working the lever of her rifle to eject a spent shell. “I think all of this is a diversion,” she said. “An attempt to distract us. From what, I can’t say.”
A gray man in rags dropped from the nearest tree, landing right in front of her. He must have been a beggar before he was changed, but now he moved with a skill that rivaled one of her teachers, beginning a high kick.
Miri ducked, allowing his foot to pass over her. She backed away to get a little space, but the gray fellow pressed his attack, coming in for a palm-strike.
