Stormcaller (Book 1) (18 page)

She heaved ragged breaths, vision swimming, and stared into the ground. “Get it together,” she told herself. “This is not the end for you.” A shadow loomed over the patch of ground she’d claimed. She grimaced, preparing for an assault.

The Black Wynch stood over her as she started to stand. It slashed with an uppercut, talons opening her neck in three vertical lines erupting red. She fell to her back as blood pumped from her neck with every frantically pounding heartbeat, pooling on either side. She turned her head to the side, watching blurred guards fall to a foe they weren’t prepared to fight.

She clung to life for her last gambit. She held tightly to the Dragon power keeping her alive, and then released everything she had left as flaming lances erupted from each of her fingertips at the Black Wynch. “Asebor will die, the slayer has returned,” she said in a hoarse whisper. That was her very last act.

**

Nyset and Walter rode hard towards the city, spurring the horses to their limits. Galloping hooves pierced the quiet of the Mission Road. Heads popped up over windowsills and eyes peered out at them from inside the safety of dwellings. On the stoop of one house a round-faced farmer with a scraggly beard stood wielding a pitchfork, scratching his head while they passed.

“I can’t believe this is happening – Hassan had doubled the guard,” Walter said.

“We don’t know for certain that they’re here, but if they are, the bigger question is ‘
why
are they here?’” Nyset said, tightly gripping Ashes.

“Damn it! We should have been back earlier,” Walter said, exasperated.

“Let’s pray to the Phoenix it’s not as bad as it looks.”

Walter drummed a free hand on his thigh. “Why haven’t they put out the fires yet? Why is there still so much smoke?”

Nyset stared towards the horizon and set her lips in a hard line. She turned to look at Walter, cringing at his Cerumal-like skin.

“Wait, wait,” he yelled, pulling on his reins to slow Marie to a trot. “Ny, we could be riding into a trap – the city could be overrun with Cerumal.”

“Hm, yes, it could be, but we’re still going,” she said.

“We shouldn’t risk ourselves to help a few people, it’s not worth it. We’re too important to be killed for a few urchins.” He spat, wiping his face.

“Are you hearing yourself – a few urchins? Have you lost your mind?” she said in disbelief. “Who are you?”

His eyes flashed a pale yellow and his pupils were transfigured into pinholes. “Hold your tongue, or have it cut from your pretty mouth, bitch,” he barked.

She led Ashes to the other side of the road, visibly shaken.

“I’m sorry, Ny – something’s wrong. I – I don’t know what’s happening to me.” He stared at his palms slowly turning an ashen gray, like someone had spilled ink upon them.

“I’m going back,” she said.

“Of course. I’m going too – where else would we go?” he said, puzzled.

She narrowed her eyes.

They came upon Walter’s house along the Mission Road and paused, stopping the horses to give them a brief reprieve. It still looked the same as he’d last left it, front door missing, windows shattered, and dead parents lying in fresh graves in the back.
Dead parents in fresh graves –
the thought drew him into a daze.

“Is there something you need?” Nyset asked, watching his face work.

“No, something just doesn’t feel right.”

“That’s not entirely surprising given what’s transpired here,” she said, placing a hand on his neck. He placed his hand over hers.

“It’s nothing, let’s go,” he muttered.

They rounded the bend beyond his house and both horses bucked wildly, tossing them unceremoniously from their saddles. Nyset wheezed, hand on her chest and fighting to get her wind back. Walter rolled with the fall. The armor and hours of Sid-Ho training protected him well. He stood to one knee, and, to his shock, saw why the horses had reacted so.

A Cerumal on horseback handed the Black Wynch a dusty cloth-wrapped bundle. It inspected the bundle and gave it back. The Cerumal paid Walter a glance and grunted, then galloped away towards Breden Square, kicking up a storm of dust. Marie and Ashes sprinted back towards Walter’s house, whinnying.
What was that? A Cerumal courier? They’re smarter than I gave them credit for.

The Black Wynch’s helm reflected pink rays of the late afternoon sun. It drew its twisting arms wide as it crouched onto its back leg, front leg extended in an odd fighting stance. It hissed like a snake preparing to uncoil upon its prey. Its eyeless helm and disproportionately long limbs were disturbing. It threateningly clacked its vicious talons, coated in dried blood.

Nyset held clenched fists. A combination of fear and anger painted her face. Small bolts of flame sprouted to life encircling her. Walter screamed with the uncorked fury that had been boiling within, releasing all the loss, the struggle, and the pain. His appetite for vengeance swelled within. His eyes widened and yellowed. He charged with Stormcaller’s glowing lashes dancing behind him. As he charged, he seized the animated Dragon in his mind’s eye. It filled him with chaos and strength, urging him to further action.

The Black Wynch stood and rounded its upper back, gnarled spikes emerging from it and launching in a hail towards Walter. Walter gritted his teeth and dashed into a low roll, spikes slamming into the ground in a line behind him. He came out of the roll whipping horizontally with Stormcaller. The Black Wynch jumped over the attack, countering with a roundhouse kick that threw Walter onto his back. White-hot pain wracked his jaw.

Nyset punched with both hands, and dozens of flaming bolts whizzed through the air. The Black Wynch’s body unnaturally twisted and weaved like an eel, dodging the majority of them. Three did find purchase, tearing clean holes through its thigh, shoulder and abdomen. The creature shrieked, thick black blood oozing from the smoking wounds. It appeared shaken and it surprisingly hesitated, taking a step back.

Walter sprang to his feet and groaned, working his jaw. He attacked in a fury of lash strikes, the Black Wynch weaving and dodging defensively. He caught a glance of Nyset, who was visibly drained from her attack, face pale and posture sagging. The creature tactically weaved its way towards Walter through his last two Crane Catching Fly strikes, pouncing on him and bringing them to the ground. Stormcaller’s lashes dissipated when Walter lost focus.

It raised its arms overhead with ear-splitting screams. Sparks sizzled through the air as its talons tore chunks of plate from Walter’s abdomen. It threw its head back in frustration, gripping his armor and smashing its plated head against Walter’s soft face. Blood washed over Walter’s eyes, nose cracking with the impact.

Time seemed to slow as pain radiated across his face.
It’s going to rip me to shreds if I don’t get up.
Weakness settled into his body, urging him to surrender, to do anything to stop the pain.
Never give up, fight until the end
,
Noah’s voice said.

Walter blinked stinging blood from his eyes, bucking his hips and throwing a hard knee, tossing the creature over his head. Nyset screamed and brought a flaming spear down from overhead, attempting to finish it off after it fell. The creature squirmed out of the way and slashed her thigh.

The jolt threw her aim off and the spear slid through its clawed foot, pinning it where it lay. Nyset yelled and fell onto her back, scrambling out of the Black Wynch’s range while gripping her bleeding leg. Scintillating talons angrily whipped and slashed at her, catching only air. The Black Wynch hissed and tugged at the spear through its foot, trying to reach her.

Walter clambered to his feet as the beast tore its burning foot free from the spear, leaving most of the foot behind. Walter wiped blood and tears from his face, regaining his balance. The creature limped towards Nyset, forgetting about Walter, trailing blood from its severed foot with a single talon still attached. Walter came from behind and booted its knee, producing a satisfying snap. It fell to its face, turning towards him snarling and muttering nonsense.

You shall not! Slay the whore girl soldier!
a dry voice rasped in his head, compelling him to obey. He felt the anger drain from his body, lethargy taking its place, eyes feeling heavy as elixir barrels.
I am
s
o tired.
He lowered his right leg, which was poised to slam another Cerumal armor-enhanced heel into the Black Wynch. A woman’s voice sounded in the distance, muffled as if from a root cellar. “Walter! What are you doing? Walter!”

“Slay the whore,” Walter said, staring at Nyset.

Slay the whore
,
the voice in his head resounded. Nyset stared in disbelief, struggling to her feet. Walter strode past the Black Wynch to Nyset, his eyes vacuous. He reached his bleeding hand for her neck. A blast of air knocked him to his back, sending him three paces across the road. He gasped for breath and struggled to an elbow.
Where am I? Fighting the Black Wynch. How did I get here? Why is she looking at me like I’m a flesh-eating plant?

Walter rose to his feet and regained his Warrior’s Focus, and the world seemed to slow once again. “Enough!” Walter said through gritted teeth. The Dragon was available within his renewed inner calm. He hurled a fireball that passed through the Black Wynch’s neck and quieted its screams and gnashing teeth. Walter stared, expecting to feel vindicated, but felt overpowering exhaustion. It took minutes for The Black Wynch to stop twitching after the greater portion of its head was displaced from its body. He sat down, head spinning.

He wanted to lie down and sleep and let reality melt away.
There are many things in life one wants to do, but cannot. The dead are not able to wake from their slumber, even if they wanted to. It is our duty to allow the living the same pleasure.
His head swam with the reality that they’d survived.

“What the Dragon was that?” Nyset asked with damp eyes.

Walter held his palms before his face, inspecting his marbled human and Cerumal ashen-gray skin.

“It… I think it… controlled me.”

Walter looked to Nyset, meeting her eyes. “But I’m me now, OK? It’s just me.”

They smiled at one another. She nodded, dropping to sit on the ground, wiping sweat from her brow. “We did it, we killed that… that thing.”

“A Black Wynch.” Walter pressed his scarf against his nose. “Let’s get you wrapped up, we have to get the Dead Adders to the sick.”

“Death Adders,” she said.

“Yeah, those – close enough,” he said, grinning and helping her to her feet.

Nyset’s eyes bulged as she stared beyond him, behind him. His smile faded into amused curiosity. “What’s wrong?”

“Walter!” she screamed, terror warping her face.

He turned his head over his right shoulder, catching the snaking form a second before pain exploded from his back and through his stomach.
Excruciating pain.
He felt like he was moving in slow motion, as if trying to move underwater. He looked down to his abdomen, finding to his horror four red talons poking through his flesh where the first Black Wynch had torn plates free.

He was raised from the ground and the talons slid further up his stomach, slicing flesh and only stopping between ribs. Time seemed to have stopped when he was airborne, staring down at the blades poking through his shirt. They slid back and out of him. He fell through the salty breeze towards the ground and watched as the second Black Wynch turned its horrific visage upon Nyset.

Before he struck the graveled road, an orange bird with bizarrely long tail feathers spread its wings before him and then burst alight with white warmth. He smiled, pain transmuting in an unexpected bliss, filling him with light.

He landed on his feet and the light of the Phoenix puffed from his wounds like mist, knitting the flesh together better than any master surgeon. Nyset took a few steps back, bracing her leg with her hands, bright red engulfing it. The Black Wynch turned on him, frozen, staring from where eyes should have been.

Three balls of fire volleyed towards the Black Wynch from the ether behind Walter, while he simultaneously roared and lashed with Stormcaller, flaming death tearing through the air. The Wynch, incredibly, weaved through the flaming spheres, but was incapable of avoiding Stormcaller’s destruction at the same time. It fell as it was hewed into pieces, slabs of smoldering, cauterized flesh hitting the ground.

Walter fell back onto the ground, face emotionless, letting everything he held drain from his body. He gazed at the second twitching Black Wynch, and then at Nyset, who met his eyes. He sat and started laughing. Uncontrollable laughter filled the air as he reveled in their victory. Nyset found his emotion contagious, and joined with her sonorous laughter.

Chapter 17 – Bonesnapper