The strike force ran forward with the next wave of the army. Swords and spears lashed out in front of me. Arrows came from nowhere, landing everywhere. Within moments, dozens of people around me had been killed. Each death was like a punch in my gut; their lights were cruelly snuffed out on the waves.
‘Focus!’ Jaalta cried.
She was having as difficult a time with the battle as I was, but experience gave her the edge she needed. I blinked and rubbed my forehead, which was starting to ache.
The demon loomed before us, shaking the ground with every step. The line of guardians behind us fired upon the demon with cross-bow bolts, arrows and spears. Hardly any pierced the mottled black skin of the gigantic beast. Skyearls also attacked it, but most were thrown back. Some of the larger ones managed to loop a great rope around the demon’s left arm. It had no neck, or else they would have aimed for that. Instead, it’s back arched over and the bear-wolf head dipped low in front of it, red eyes glaring out of the dark visage.
It turned to shriek at the skyearls, crouched low and yanked on the rope. The skyearls flapped backwards, hauling with all their combined strength. It was not enough to pull the demon over, but it did slow it down. If they could get another rope around the right arm… Snap! The demon’s sharp yellow teeth snipped the rope with ease. Brushing aside any skyearls that came too close, it advanced on the ground troops.
The first line of the strike force gathered in front of it. Instead of turning and running, the guardians formed up more tightly in a sort of semi-circle. Holding shields, swords or pikes up in front of them, they bravely made their stand. A feeling of tremendous gratitude and sadness welled up in me. They willingly give their lives.
A woman’s eyes met mine, her nod urged me on, and the demon’s clawed foot crashed down, killing her.
‘Now is the time to dispel,’ I found myself shouting. ‘Now!’
I sheathed Fyschs and lifted both my hands. Jaalta gripped my hand and pointed the other, palm outwards, at the creature. The other Anzaii in the strike force joined us. Linked by physical touch, and with the collective support of the Anzaii-kin and the two Ancient Sapphire Tree artefacts, we prayed fervently through the waves.
A sort of bubble of awareness opened up around us. Jaalta and I could see and hear each other, and the Anzaii-kin, through the waves. Tiaro and the other kin prayed in a language that was unfamiliar to me.
‘Hear us, Krii!’ I cried.
Jaalta, who had a fine voice in the waves, declared, ‘This demon shall not stand before the army of Krii!’
I was vaguely aware of my real body bellowing from the strain. The Anzaii beside me also shouted from the effort of our combined wave-questing. Like before, the demon’s presence in the waves was elusive. It toyed with us in the waves, all the while crushing more of our guardians in the natural world.
‘Closer,’ I encouraged the group. ‘We need to make contact.’
Now that we were all touching and linked by the Ancient Sapphire Tree artefacts, it was easy to target all of them inside the wave bubble we had created, I realised.
‘More ropes,’ somebody said.
The command was passed along through the waves to the quartermaster who controlled the supplies for the battle. Commander Varal was out there somewhere, trying his hardest to come to our aid.
More of our guardians fell before the demon’s onslaught. It ripped through them, using its own weight to stand on people and animals alike. A cavalry squadron galloped out of the woods, pointing makeshift-extended javelins at the demon. Because the soft parts of its body were so high off the ground, though, all they could do was target its shins and calf muscles.
Deafening moans and the smell of blood pounded my senses. I closed my eyes against the sight of a horse-and-rider being kicked into the air by the demon’s great hooves. It’s groping hands and five clawed digits were big enough to pick up an entire horse each. Each hand squeezed and dropped the mangled remains. The remaining frontline guardians and cavalry kept the demon busy until more help arrived.
Eight skyearls, carrying spools of rope, dived from high in the sky. They moved swiftly to enmesh the demon in a tangle of ropes and chains. It twisted and snapped with teeth and claws, fighting to remain free. While it was distracted, a group of skyearls with large jaws landed behind it and began gnawing at the backs of its feet. Black blood oozed down over the shiny hooves. It kicked savagely and stood on one of its attackers.
More flew in to continue the job. The ropes around the demon’s body became so tangled around its horns, arms and torso that it couldn’t reach them with its teeth.
The rope-skyearls pulled hard in one direction. The skyearls at its feet bit and scratched with more vehemence than before. The demon lashed out wildly with its one free arm, then stumbled and finally fell. I moved forward with the Anzaii still attached to each other in a huddle. There was one foot being held in place by the gnawing skyearls. Uncertain what would happen, I lunged for it.
As soon as I touched it, the waves became our primary focus. The demon could no longer slip away from us. It looked the same in the waves except it was now on its feet. The other Anzaii were no longer touching me, but I could see them standing around with varying degrees of horror and defiance etched into their faces.
‘Back!’ I shouted to the demon.
It drew itself up to its full height and bellowed. The sound reverberated across the dusty grey plains. A silt storm was visible in the distance. Beside me, Jaalta gestured for the Anzaii to get hold of their weapons or Tolite-kin, if they had one. I drew Fyschs, admiring the way it glimmered in the light of the two moons above us. Was it always night time in this place? Wind ruffled the hair under my helmet and my cloak whipped behind me.
‘Fools!’ the demon spat. ‘My Lord Zeidarb controls this world. He is the master of death. None can stand before him.’
He made a sweeping gesture with his arm and nearly half of the Anzaii fell down, lifeless. The rest of us moved into a tight ball, standing with weapons at the ready. The demon was angered by our obstinacy. I latched onto the recognition of its emotions. They were alien to me and powerful, yet somehow familiar. Using the connection I had forged, I probed further into the demon’s makeup. A name came to me…
‘Boiva,’ I said. ‘Demon of the underworld, summoned by six worshippers of Zei, you are not welcome here!’
With that, Tiaro and the other Anzaii-kin rushed the demon. Jaalta’s stone, Galtoro, seemed more like a charging bull in the spirit realm. The wind whipped around us, casting silt and rocks against our faces and armour. I shielded my eyes with my hand. Jaalta stepped forward heedless. Flecks of blood appeared on her cheeks and mouth. Her arm remained outstretched.
‘Get back, Zei!’ she bellowed through the waves. ‘In Krii’s name, you are banished, Boiva!’
‘Let it be so,’ I agreed. The other Anzaii also prayed their agreement.
The demon looked right and left, puffing with exertion. When nothing happened, it snarled and launched forward at the approaching Anzaii. A whirlwind whipped across the plains and lifted the demon off its feet. The monster writhed and shrieked as if pummelled by many fists. It was thrown against the ground several times before finally being torn apart by the shredding power of the silt storm.
The winds slowly died down, leaving behind only dust. One by one, the fallen Anzaii awoke and together we transferred our minds back into the natural world.
It took the rest of that day and night for the Defenders to overcome the Zeikas. By the time they realised they were defeated, it was too late for many of them to get away. The strike force reunited with their Sleffion-kin and flew after the fleeing summoners. Their dragons were harder to dispel than most, but it was only a matter of time before each enemy had fallen or been captured.
Tyba and I had lost thousands of Defenders in the battle, but it had saved the refugees outside the city and bought us valuable time. The victory gave all of Tanza hope that perhaps Condii could be our last stand against the Zeika onslaught.
As 180-minerday dawned we received word that the battle at the Hills of Everstain was also over. Though the Zeikas had taken Lantaid, 6,000 civilians had made it to the chasm along with 1,200 Defender warriors. I mourned the loss of so many lives, but my hopes flared at the thought that Sarlice and the Rada-kin may have joined the refugees.
Although I was tired enough to be at risk of falling off Ciera’s back, I made the effort to reach out to Sarlice. My mind quested west of Lantaid, finding the large group of Tanzan evacuees, but no sign of Sarlice. I had located her before, why not now? She could be dead… I shied away from that thought.
‘Rekala,’ I called. Because we were bonded, it was very easy to find Rekala’s presence. Even from this distance, instead of only being vaguely aware of Rekala’s surroundings, the belt enabled me to see into her mind and see everything that she saw. Normally I would only have been able to do that if we were within a few leagues of each other. To think that I had been carrying the belt ever since I left Jaria, and not known how to use it, was frustrating.
The river stretched away ahead and to the right of her. Kestric was to her left among a disorganised line of people, skyearls and animals who’d trekked through the eastern end of the chasm. The historian, Benzar and the first Tanzan I had met, Tivac, were at the end of the line preparing to seal the barrier once everyone had made it into the chasm. Duke Alger led the procession and I was pleased to see Tivac’s wife, Glane, unharmed. She was carrying a large knapsack and a child, who had fallen asleep on her shoulder. Everybody around looked exhausted from the evacuation.
‘My Talon, my Talon!’ Rekala called—reminding me of our early days together when she had been less in control of her animal instincts. Her reaction told me much about her distress. The recent battle and evacuation must have been hard—thankfully Rekala wasn’t injured. Nor was Kestric, but I still couldn’t detect any sign of Sarlice.
‘What has happened to Sarlice?’ I demanded, extending the wave conversation to include Kestric. The firetiger made a throaty tiger yowl. A hot shard of fear went racing through me.
‘She was snatched during the battle,’ he replied. ‘Five Zeikas mounted on tyraks came for her. They were very purposeful when they flew off with her.’
Kestric’s sense of yearning reached me. He wished there was some way he could run after Sarlice but, without the ability to fly, he had been forced to wait behind as Thita went after her. Duke Alger had asked all the kinless Rada-kin, including Kestric and Rekala to help ensure the safety of the survivors from Lantaid. No matter how much they begged, Alger had refused to send more skyearls after Sarlice saying it was simply too dangerous and they needed to concentrate on evacuating now.
‘I will go to her,’ I said. ‘It is because of me that she has been snatched. Because of me and because of the traitor, Corypha.’
‘If Sarlice hadn’t been captured, she would probably have been slain at the Hills of Everstain,’ Rekala said.
‘You survived,’ I pointed out.
‘We were separated from the fight when Sarlice was taken,’ she said. ‘By the time we got back it was clear that Lantaid had been beaten, so we slunk away through the forest.’
Kestric paced and yowled. ‘If you truly believe you have a chance of rescuing her, we will return and go with you.’
‘No,’ I replied firmly. ‘I will have to travel by air and neither of you have learned bird form yet. I want both of you to stay with the survivors. They need all the help they can get.’
Rekala gave the wave-equivalent of a wounded sniff.
‘Tiaro and Ciera will aid me,’ I added. ‘Thita is following her, you said?’
‘Aye, the little skyearl is tailing them,’ Kestric affirmed.
I used Kestric’s link to Thita to find him quickly.
‘Thita, are you hale?’ I queried.
The tiny orange skyearl was flying above the clouds, keeping out of sight of the party of Zeikas who had Sarlice. They, too, were in flight, somewhere over south east Tanza.
‘I am tired, Astor,’ Thita replied. ‘Sarlice is unconscious, but still alive.’
Helpless to do anything, but follow, for now, Thita’s waves emanated both desperation and hopelessness.
‘I will come after you as soon as I am allowed to, Thita,’ I said, including Rekala and Kestric in the conversation. Tiaro and Ciera were also present with me in the waves.
‘You are needed there,’ Thita responded. ‘Besides, I don’t see how you could catch us. They appear to be making straight for Reltland.’
‘Then Reltland is where we’ll go,’ I said.
‘But not today,’ Thita said. ‘You’re in dire need of some rest, Astor Talon. Look after yourself and do what needs to be done for Tanza. Don’t let the Zeikas draw you away from your responsibilities. I can’t reach Sarlice’s mind, but I know she wouldn’t want that. And she wouldn’t want you to fall into a trap.’
‘We’ll think of something,’ I assured him.
‘You must go, precious one,’ Rekala scolded me. ‘You will pass out from the strain. Go my Talon.’
‘Goodbye my lovely.’
Dread filled me—not only did I want to get to my Rada-kin, but also to go after Sarlice. But how? No matter how much I thought about it, a solution evaded me.
A flurry of voices on the waves close to me brought my focus back to my immediate surroundings. Ciera had landed on the platform at the back of Condii Fortress and was waiting patiently for my conversation to end. Other Sleffion-kin pairs were waiting for their turn to land in the now-reduced space.
‘Sorry,’ I murmured to Ciera.
‘It’s no matter,’ he replied. ‘The others can wait. I am sorry about Sarlice.’
‘Sometimes I wish we could just fly away—Sarlice and her kin, me and mine—and just go far away from the Zeikas, hide out and live our lives in peace.’
‘We weren’t sent so you could hide us away,’ Ciera replied. ‘All the gifts in each person’s life are there for a reason.’
‘I know.’ I sighed.
He waited until I had unstrapped myself before sitting up on his haunches and reaching around with his good arm to pick me up. He held me up in front of his face, peering at me closely.