Nightfall (Book 1) (16 page)

“Do you jest? It is peaceful as a spring day out here; at least it would be if it not for this bloody heat.” He paused for a moment and then said, “The heat has been making my eyes smart, I keep thinking the sand—of all things—is crawling toward us.” I chuckled sympathetically as that seemed the best response, but inwardly I realized that I was not seeing things, since the other elf was noticing the same exact thing—just without realizing it was not a mirage. A mix of dread and curiosity filled my chest and I swung back onto my stomach to look beyond Aitor.

My sight zoomed in on the moving sand and I saw that it had its own four legs, and a long tail that twitched sporadically behind it, mostly out of sight. Large triangular ears rose from the creature’s head and the snarling maw bore large fangs sprouting from jaws that crushed to kill, powered by muscles tough as steel. Whiskers to the sides of the enormous feline’s dark nose also twitched at the movements of the snarling maw or the nose, as it breathed in the scents of fresh meat.

The large beast of prey would have been beautiful to watch—from a distance—but the problem was that it was streaking across the desert sands toward my group, at an incredible speed. I yelled my horse’s name and at the sound of it he launched into full awareness; I hauled myself onto his back as he quickly stood and turned toward the oncoming hunter. A long spear with a wicked point appeared in my right hand as Aitor took off at full speed toward the approaching danger. I heard a shout from behind me and it was then that I realized that there were many more of the felines than I had realized, my attention being directed on the nearest of them.

A line of the desert beasts zoomed toward me in a spearheaded formation—the one I had noticed first was the tip of the spear. I sent my own spear flying at it, with all the strength I possessed. The force sent the entire spear through the length of the cat’s body. A snarl ripped through the oncoming line as their leader was brought down, and they put on an extra burst of speed. Aitor stopped as quickly as he could (without sending me flying over his head) so that I could kill off—at a distance—as many of the beasts as possible.

The last of five summoned arrows spent, I leapt over Aitor’s head and onto the ground twenty feet ahead of him; I did not wish for him to get torn to shreds by the beasts’ claws. I called twin blades while sending the bow back to Lietha, and before they were even completely formed in my hands I swung one forward to slice the head off the foremost of the beasts; with the throb of adrenaline coursing through me, the movement seemed to take hours, while in actuality it was much quicker.

I turned the end of that killing arc into a swing that sent the blade flying in circles to my right, taking down the nearest cat in that direction. I only watched long enough to know that it was a killing stroke. I did not see the animal being sliced in half, with the droplets of blood splaying out in all directions. The blade’s replacement appeared in my hand as I sliced the clawing forearms off another cat and then removed its head, along with its pain.

I used the two swords to slash across each other’s paths and sliced through the chest of the nearest beast. The blood splattered me as the animal’s heart burst and I had to leap out of the way of its lifeless body as it thudded to the ground, never to permanently go cold because of the merciless heat of the desert. The next two were just as easy to kill as the others, but then the last three circled me in a unison effort to stop me from eliminating their unsuspecting group. I guessed the remaining creatures must be veterans, because none of the others had shown any wisdom by attacking with stratagem rather than speed, unity rather than recklessness.

I looked back to see that I was too far away from my companions for them to make it before the creatures decided to attack. They took the glance as hesitation and it gave them a bit of encouragement; I barely had time to react and drive my swords through them. As the two felines in front of me attacked, I ducked and somersaulted to miss the falling bodies of the beasts who had just pounced, then I rose and turned to defend against the third, but it was nowhere in sight. I turned to look behind me but the beast was not in that direction; then I found it in a very unexpected and uncomfortable way.

The beast’s fore claws latched into both my lower-left back and right shoulder; I yelled in pain and dropped the sword in my right hand, because one of the claws in my shoulder had hit a nerve and paralyzed my arm. With the whole weight of the creature’s body on my back, I fell to my knees and the beast let out a deafening roar for the kill. A globule of spittle landed on my cheek and slid down to fall on the ground, where it evaporated. Through the pain I did not even notice the spit, which would have been disgusting otherwise. I still yelled in pain as I felt the animal tense for the kill, then I let out another yell, that time it carried no pain—it was the equal of the beast’s own cry for blood. I shoved the blade in my left hand behind my head, hoping it made the correct mark. I heard a choking, pain-filled cough behind me, as if the beast was trying to get rid of a particularly large hairball.

The cat unlatched its claws and backed away; I pulled the sword from its throat. A gurgled howl tore from the weakened beast as blood seeped into cavities in which admittance had never before been possible. With its last strength the cat leapt at me; I thrust my sword into its lower chest, hoping to pierce the heart. I was crushed under the weight of the beast and the hilt of my sword dug into my chest, so I returned it to Lietha. With the sword gone, the animal’s blood gushed from its wound and seeped into my clothes, covering my chest. I got a nose and mouthful of the beast’s fur before I was finally able to try and heave its body off me, though it was far from easy with my right arm out of commission. Unable to feel my right arm, I got it stuck under the beast’s massive body. After a moment I also realized that the main artery in my arm had been sliced open and I was losing large amounts of blood. That problem, however, was easily fixed with a bit of magic.

Dizzy from blood loss, I sat, and then laid down, since it was too hot to have my body curled up. When I felt the slight change of shade covering me, I opened an eye long enough to recognize Aitor before I closed it again. Next, I heard the slight crunching of footsteps on the sand as my companions joined me on the death scene. I heard a gasp and then my sister knelt beside me, trying to get a response—to make sure I was still alive. I let the prodding continue for a little while because I was exhausted and unwilling to deal with the others and their questions just then. It was not until Izar began yelling my name that I decided I had to let her know that I was actually alive and conscious. “Leave me alone,” I grumbled. When Izar slapped me all I could say was ‘ouch’ and then she hugged me, which did not last long because of the heat. Someone asked if I could walk back to the camp, to which I replied that I did not want to, but I did get up and climb (with help) onto Aitor’s back. It was a shorter trip than stumbling back on my own would have been.

While I healed my various scrapes, cuts, and bruises, Koldobika took on his duty of reproving me for making a rash decision such as I had—in taking on all of the meir cats alone. “Ah, so, they are called meir cats?” I asked, ignoring the warning; I knew it was petty of me, but someone would have had to kill them after all, so why not me? Koldobika gave up, since I was paying his warnings no heed. When that was over, everyone was able to finish resting before we started saddling the horses again for the night’s journey. Even with the rest I ended up sleeping a bit in the saddle; I could not entirely help it, because I
was dead tired. Pun intended.

It was not until a few hours had passed that any of us realized something was wrong, yet again. “Has anyone realized anything different in the past hour or so?” Izar spoke up.

There were murmurs of ‘No,’ and then Koldobika said, “Just the foreboding of the mountains.”

“Look behind us,” my sister said. Koldobika reined in his horse and everyone followed his example and turned opposite the direction we had been going. “What do you see?”

“Nothing?” I said, still half asleep, but knowing that she was about to say something that all of us should have realized—and long before even she had.

“Exactly.
The mountains are gone, so why do we still feel their presence? Or is it another similar to theirs?”

“Someone—or thing—is following us.” Balendin spoke the words we all realized were true. I wondered who it could possibly be; the mountains had not seemed very habitable to me and I could not understand why anyone would have chosen to follow us all the way across the desert, when they could just spring an ambush on us when we returned to the harbor.

“More meir cats, perhaps?” No one agreed with my suggestion and no others were put forth so I let it go.

We had been keeping the horses at a fast walk that quickly ate up the miles, though once Izar had voiced her realization, the riders all dismounted and started running alongside the horses, which most of us could still have outrun. Because Koldobika could not keep up with any of the runners, he sprouted dragonwings from his back and took to the air.

~ ~ ~

It was almost two hours before dawn when we reached the sand dunes. At first I was disoriented because I did not recognize their pattern, then I recalled that the winds continually moved them around, smoldering and then rebuilding them into different forms.

We were all tired from our long run across the sand so I left Aitor with the others and ran to the top of the nearest dune, my enhanced vision giving me perfect detail of my surroundings. Beyond the next large dune I could see the corner of a large chunk of stone, slightly darker than the desert sands. I motioned to those below that they should follow and waited for my horse as they all walked wearily up the dune to where I stood. Koldobika landed next to me as Sendoa handed me Aitor’s reigns. I turned away from them and pointed. “There is the archway.” The wizard dismissed his wings, and then he solemnly led the rest of us toward the roughhewn stone structure.

~ ~ ~

A faint green glow, the color that nearly seemed a signature of magic, emanated from the center of the archway and I could feel the presence of Lietha very strongly. It was even stronger there than at the ends of the tunnels—where Arrats, Ekaitz, and I had hunted nook rats in days that seemed almost a lifetime ago—stronger than the sea, and stronger than the call of the siren. “What is this place?” I whispered. “The magic is so strong here that it seems I could hold it in my hand.” I was too caught up in the feel of the magic that I did not notice that my eyes were closed and I was smiling, holding my hand out in invitation toward the portal.

A firm hand on my shoulder, and the sound of a blade being drawn, whisked my senses back to the
present. It was Sendoa standing protectively at my back, and before me stood a woman who carried a staff with blades protruding from the ends. One of the blades was poised inches from my neck. “Argiñe Bakar.” I did not know how I knew the name, but I said it before I could stop myself.

“Who art thou?” The woman ask
ed, in a voice almost a whisper and yet strong as an ogre’s blow. Koldobika started to say something, but Argiñe held her hand up to him as a gesture of silence, her eyes trained on my face the entire time.

Sendoa’s hand slipped from my shoulder as I took a step forward, and the woman took a step back. “I am Itzal Izotz, and these are my companions from Baso Argi.” I waved my hand in the general direction of those with me. “We are here to find Alaia, the dragonlady.” A look I could not recognize flashed quickly across Argiñe’s face and was gone. “You know where she is, do you not?”

The woman looked me over critically, studying my eyes so long that my legs started to tingle from the lack of movement. It took all of my will to keep from asking her again concerning Alaia, but I knew it would have been a very unwise choice. While she studied my face I took the opportunity to study her in return; she wore a long, sun bleached robe of sorts, which had been a desert-tan color. The robe had slits on the sides, rising to the hips for the ease of taking a good fighting stance, but she wore tight pants beneath, to cover her legs. She had flawless dark skin, black eyes and brows; from the color of the hair that I could see, I guessed that the hair on her head would also be black, but it made no difference because it was shaved completely off. Even with her head shaven I thought she was rather beautiful, but the stern and battle-hardened look in her face made me doubt anyone had ever had the guts to tell her so.

“Yes.” That was all she said as she pushed a hidden switch on her staff and the wicked looking blades retracted with a sinister hiss. She turned and walked away. I followed and heard the quiet footsteps of my companions following behind me.

“Why?”

Alaia and I sat alone at the top of a sand dune, overlooking the arch and the haphazard camp below. “Why did you not just request that I come, rather than bewitching the directions you had given me?”

“It was the best chance I had of getting you here. Argiñe is a great warrior and I believe that we could use her help in the war, but no matter my words I could not convince her that our cause was a worthwhile endeavor. She needed to meet you, to see you, to realize that you are real.”

I chuckled. She had been rather successful in getting me there. The remaining step was to convince the desert woman to return and devote her time to a cause that would not necessarily benefit her. “How do you expect me to win her over?” I asked calmly. “Am I to make magic tricks and pray that I do not turn to a Lietha stone? Or should I meet her in combat?” She gave no reply for a moment so I added humorously, “If you expect me to win her over with pretty words and a witty tongue then I am afraid the battle has already been lost.” The dragonlady laughed at that, but otherwise continued her contemplative silence.

The object of our conversation appeared over a dune on the far side of the camp, one of the elf guards followed behind her, obviously clumsier than she on the foreign sands. The two practically ran down the near side of the mound and I could hear the murmur of her voice asking questions of everyone she passed until she entered the one-sided tent and found Koldobika. “What is going on down there?” Alaia said, voicing my own curiosity; her words startled me since she had seemed so engrossed in her thoughts. Argiñe reappeared from the tent and caught sight of us on the dune, her gaze meeting Alaia’s. We stood and made a hasty descent, meeting her in the tent’s shade.

“Magic eaters,” she stated, simply and sharply. Looking at Koldobika she said, “They followed thy company from the mountains.”

“What?” I asked hesitantly and everyone turned to look at me. “What is following us exactly?” Argiñe and Alaia both had incredulous looks on their faces.

“Are you serious?” Alaia demanded. Then to Koldobika, “You have not even told him of the magic eaters?” I wondered how on earth something could eat magic, since such a thing was implied by their name.

“There was no need to add unnecessary worry to his burden,” the wizard said simply. I snorted.
My burden—hah.

“Unnecessary?” Alaia roared. “They are almost at the doorstep and you say he has no need to know of them?” I felt like yelling at her for silence and then to tell me what was going on, but with her that angry it would only have made matters worse. I pulled the magic—which was thick in the area—toward me and let loose a shroud of calm and peace, centering it on Alaia. It took a minute for my spell to take effect, but it worked more efficiently than I had hoped and Alaia suddenly slumped to the floor, fast asleep. I opened my eyes, abruptly severing the connection.

“Oops,” I mumbled. Everyone looked at me with bleary eyes, wondering what had just happened. I stepped over to the dragonlady to make sure she was still breathing; she was so I picked up her feather-light form and turned to the wizard. “Something is coming and from the way Alaia reacted, I can only guess is that it is not good.” I looked around at the room’s occupants, the dark-skinned warrior last. “This place is not defensible without more mages than we have, so it would be wise to leave now.” Everyone filed out of the tent ahead of me, all but Argiñe. “You are coming too,” I said.

She inclined her head, a disapproving look on her face. “Thou dost not control mine fate,” she said, stubbornly.

“Nor do I want to,” I argued. “I am only offering you a home and revenge on those who banished you.” It was easy to assume that she had been sent there in abandonment, because it was obvious that she was not a slave trader and I highly doubted that anyone of their own desire would choose to live in the forsaken desert lands. “You will also have a better chance of getting away from whatever pursues my companions and me.”

“Wouldst I be expected to join thee and thy rebellion once we had arrived at the mainland?”

“No. After we reach the mainland your fate will be yours to decide.” She was indecisive and I knew we were short on time, so I added solemnly, “I give you my word.”

“Then I shalt go with thee.” She followed me out into the open, where the others were all waiting, mounted on their respective steeds. I asked Erlantz to let Argiñe ride with him and he agreed,
then lent her a hand up. I could tell she disapproved of having help, but she took it without comment. I managed to get onto Aitor’s back without dropping Alaia and turned to see what Alesander or Koldobika had planned next.

“‘Til we reach the edge of the desert I couldst speed us across the sands,” Argiñe said, knowing as well as the rest of us that neither the horses nor anyone else could easily survive the entire day crossing the simmering desert.

“But?” Izar asked, hearing the edge to the woman’s words.

“I wilt require one of ye who wieldest magic to vent it into me, for I am no longer able to call upon it.”

“I can do it,” my sister spoke up before anyone else could and Koldobika nodded in consent. I was unsure how she did it, but not long after Izar closed her eyes, Argiñe took control of the desert sands which our horses stood on. The grains of sand held together, as if they had been melded, formed into a hard surface strong enough to hold the horses and their riders. The solid circle of sand slid smoothly across the loose sands beneath, at an incredible speed. Soon as the mountains appeared on the horizon, Argiñe steered us further to the left, since they were now on our right, so that we would not pass too close to them.

“How fast are magic eaters able to travel?” I tried to ask Koldobika, but the wind whipped away my words before they even had the chance to leave my mouth. My question went unanswered.

The speed of the wind made it hard for any of us to breath and I noticed that the others had their heads curled forward with their arms wrapped in front of them, to create a small cavern of air which was whisked away a little slower than the rest. The thought that they resembled mutilated swans crossed my mind before I remembered that Alaia was likely unable to breath. I pulled her head toward my chest, and then pulled her hood over both our heads to create a windbreaker large enough for the both of us.

The cooled desert air and the warm sunshine were a welcome mixture and I eventually began to doze off. Somehow, through it all, I kept Alaia from slipping out of my arms and being stranded in the middle of the desert. With the sudden and unexpected cessation of movement I jolted into wakefulness. I guessed that everyone except Argiñe had just gone through the same rude awakening as I, for we all looked around with groggy and startled eyes.

“How do I wake Alaia?”

“Kiss her,” Sendoa joked and I looked away, embarrassed.

Izar rolled her eyes at the comment. “Just pour a little water on her face.” I followed her instruction and the cool water woke the dragonlady’s senses and her eyes flew open. Alaia easily flipped me off the horse and pulled me into a headlock. For a second or two I thought she was actually going to kill me.

“What has happened?” she asked.

“Izotz put you to sleep with magic and then we rode the sands back to here,” Izar said, shrugging.

“Would you let go of me? Please,” I said.

“Do you swear never to render my unconscious again?”

“No.” Alaia chuckled and let me go. We remounted Aitor and continued on toward the port. It was a short trip back to the dirt track leading through the ring of vegetation and on to the settlement.

I rode to Koldobika’s left as he led us toward the docks and
Wavewing
. Harkaitz and his men had just finished preparing the ship for departure when we arrived there; I turned to the wizard and said, “Did you…?” He knew what I meant and nodded, though to any passersby he would have seemed to have all of his attention directed on the crowds around us. The Captain would never have expected us to return so soon and it would have been impossible for them to be completing preparations just as we were arriving, without Koldobika having warned them. When we boarded the ship, Harkaitz’ crew acted as if Alaia and Argiñe had been with us the entire time. The horses were all led below deck where they were taken care of and then we departed, the winds speeding us on our way home.

~ ~ ~

Koldobika and Argiñe fell sick throughout the course of the day, which was most curious since the weather was fair and the man had not suffered from seasickness during the storm that carried us to Eguzki. Two days later they both were still sick and unable to keep down their meals. Alaia and Izar had been trying to help them get well, but they had not made any progress.

My sister sat down beside me and leaned her head against the ship’s railing behind her. “Why can we not just get back to Baso Argi now?” she asked, even though she knew I did not have an answer for her. At least not one she wanted to hear. I closed my eyes, basking in the light warmth of the sun, which was welcome after the simmering desert heat. “This almost seems cold after the desert,” I murmured.

“Hmmm,” was the only form of agreement I got from Izar, who was also soaking up the sunlight, her eyes closed.

A high-pitched whistling started on the port—or left—side of the ship, at about the height of the top of
Wavewing’s
 mast, though it was too far from the ship to have been made by anyone onboard. A sudden, chilling blast of cold air then came from the same direction.

I stood and leaned over the ship’s side, trying to discern what the cause of the commotion was. About twenty feet off to port was a black smudge in the air and it was coalescing into the center of itself; as it did so, the smog slowly became a more solid form. Once the smoke had turned into an elongated sphere of blackness it began again to change, though that time it took on a slightly more humanoid form. The being’s head looked somewhat like a ram’s though its long fur was black and it had milky-white fangs protruding from below a snarling upper lip. Its body was wraithlike and covered by a thin, gauzy, black robe. The creature’s haunches rippled with muscle and ended in sharp cloven hooves; what should have been the front hooves were skinny, gnarled hands that ended with long, piercing nails that looked as if they had been used to tear apart one of the beast’s helpless victims about a month ago and had not been cleaned since. Where the eyes would have been were sockets that housed glowing, red spheres. It felt as if the creature’s gaze would burn through my skin to the flesh beneath. I looked up into its face, feeling I would fall over backward from how far back I had to crane my neck, the beast was so huge.

As the creature’s gaze aligned with mine the entire world seemed to go silent; the snapping of the sails in the whistling wind, the clapping of waves against the creaking ship, the hissing of the wind blowing the peaks of waves into spray, the moaning of my two seasick companions, the surprised yelling of the sailors and the sound of my own breathing seemed stuck in an entirely different plane of existence. Suddenly I was deafened by the throbbing of my blood through my veins and then with an unheard crack, like the splitting of something only sensed through magic, the noises rushed back over me like a drowning tide and I almost collapsed under the unexpected tumult of it.