Talwyn and Mihei sent a blast of golden power simultaneously, and the red-tinged warding flared brightly, glowing blood red. The wheels of flame inside made the red warding pulse like a heart. Mihei beat a rhythm on a hand drum, and his chanting followed Talwyn’s as they sent wave after wave of golden light against the warding.
Emil’s band of soldiers was ready to attack the moment
the wardings fell. Alin ordered the horsemen into position. Jair threw up his arm to shield his eyes as the light grew brighter and brighter. Inside the red dome, the female captive screamed in terror.
With a blinding flash, the red light flared and disappeared. The Durim’s mage, one of the Black Robes, collapsed to the ground, and as Talwyn’s power reached him, his robes began to smoke and then burst into flames. For a moment, the entire clearing was bathed in a golden light like sunset. Emil’s foot soldiers let out a battle cry and began their run toward the Black Robes. There were a dozen of the Shanthadura priests in the clearing, as well as the dead mage. Three of them drew long, wickedly curved and serrated blades, ready to meet the Sworn’s challenge. The other two continued with their ritual, chanting in a language Jair did not recognize.
Jair kicked his horse into a gallop, riding into the fray. The Black Robes were vicious fighters, buying time to complete the ritual.
One of the Black Robes advanced on the captive woman, even as the night rang with the clash of swords and the pounding of hooves. He raised a large
damashqi
dagger overhead, ready to strike as the woman gave a terrified, piercing scream. Jair rode his horse straight for the man, leaping at the last moment over the sobbing woman to ride down the Durim priest. His
stelian
sang through the air, taking the Durim’s head off, and it fell still covered by the man’s black cowl.
A bolt of red lightning flashed from the hand of one of the Black Robes, catching one of the riders square in the chest and knocking him from his mount with a smoking hole in his ribs.
Talwyn and Mihei were in the front lines of the battle, and Jair realized that Mihei was working defensive magic while Talwyn turned her power against each of the Durim in turn.
Jair rallied the horsemen for another salvo. But before he could give the order to ride, shadows rushed toward them from the forest. Jair’s eyes widened.
Dimonns?
he wondered, even as he readied his sword to strike. Whatever they were, if they passed the line of mounted soldiers, this new dark power would have a clear shot at Talwyn’s back. Jair reined in his horse and readied himself to face a new enemy.
“Hold your positions!” Jair shouted as the dark shapes passed over them. Men swung at the shapes with their swords, but their blades passed through them with no apparent effect.
The horses changed footing restlessly. Jair was sure that their mounts could see whatever loomed in the trees. The autumn night was suddenly cold, and Jair fought a feeling of fear that urged him to flee. By the looks on the faces of his fellow soldiers, they felt it, too.
Screams rent the darkness. They came from the shapes in the forest, and rose high and frenzied above the panicked shouts of the two captives. The screams were followed by a deep, rumbling laughter that was cold and menacing.
“Hold your place!” Alin shouted. “They’re not
dimonns
. They’re ghosts.”
A hail of rocks came from the shadows that slipped among the trees. They struck men and horses with force, and bounced against Jair’s shield hard enough to send a shock through his shield arm.
Behind him, Jair could hear the sounds of battle as the foot soldiers engaged the Black Robes. But as much as he wanted to take part in the fight, exposing their flank and their mages to the darkness from the forest seemed a bad idea, especially now that their disembodied attackers proved themselves able to draw blood.
In the moonlight, Jair saw shapes among the shadows. The oppressive sense that something awful was about to happen grew stronger, as did the primal urge to flee. The wailing from the shadowed shapes became louder. In a rush of cold wind, the shadows became blade-thin, rushing at them from the forest to streak among them and
through
them.
Jair cried out as a dead coldness passed through his body, making his heart seize as if it would stop altogether. For an instant, Jair could not breathe and his terror was complete. Then the coldness vanished, but not before Jair’s horse reared in utter panic, nearly bucking Jair from his saddle.
The dark shapes circled them, and the soldiers positioned themselves in a line, facing outward, creating a barrier between the forest and the battle. The shapes grew more solid, stalking them now from the shadows. Whatever the shapes were now, they had the form of men, though their eyes burned like fire. Some had features, and others were like a starless night cut in the shape of a man. The shapes stretched and contorted as if to prove that they were not bound by the constraints on living men. One of the shadow shapes stretched out its arm toward Jair, and the clawed hand moved toward him, though the arm grew impossibly long. The entire shape slowly elongated, growing gaunt and huge, menacing in its reach.
By the cries of the men around him, Jair knew he was not the only one to be terrified by the apparitions. He struggled to keep control of his frightened horse. Maneuvering as best he could to evade the outstretched hand, Jair was mindful not to expose his back.
The shadows seemed to grow thicker and more solid. This time, the shapes that passed among them felt cold and firm. One of the warriors screamed as he was abruptly pulled from his saddle and flung to the ground. Alin, sword already swinging, charged toward the shadows. Solid as they had seemed as they passed him, his blade made no contact, though it disappeared into blackness. Unseen hands shoved Alin backward. Jair charged forward on horseback, only to have his horse rear, eyes wide with panic. Shadows swarmed over the soldier on the ground, and it looked to Jair as if they slipped into his mouth and nose, slipped underneath his skin. The downed soldier gave a terrified shriek.
Darkness poured like blood from the soldier’s eyes, ears, mouth, and nose, and when the darkness cleared, the man lay unmoving on the ground.
Alin had regained his feet and was advancing slowly,
stelian
upraised. “What the hell are we fighting?”
Before Jair could answer, more of the shrieking shapes swooped from the forest. There was nowhere to run, and Jair had no intention of abandoning their line and opening their companions to a second enemy. Anger filled him, and Jair shouted a battle cry with all his might. He ran at the blackness, leaping over the body of his fallen comrade, and he realized something as he hit the ground.
The dead soldier was not wearing Talwyn’s charm.
Shapes rushed him, and utter coldness filled his body as
the darkness slipped beneath his skin. Cold hands touched him, grabbing at his arms and legs. It was hard to breathe. His lungs felt as if he had gulped frozen air, and there was a weight on his chest. Jair staggered and fell to his knees. Spirits slipped against and through his skin like hundreds of blades. Jair reached beneath his tunic and touched the talisman as the darkness closed around him. The talisman flared with a blue light. As the glow grew brighter, the darkness drew back, rushing away from him. He gasped for breath, clutching the amulet, which was now almost too bright to see.
“Use your amulet!” Jair shouted.
Suddenly, the glade was filled with light. Blue-white light streamed from the amulets of the soldiers, which they held out in front of them to drive back the darkness. Jair realized all of the men were now on foot. They closed ranks, shoulder to shoulder, holding the amulets out in front of them. One step at a time, in unison, they advanced on the darkness, forcing it back into the forest.
“We can hold them back, but for how long?” Alin shouted. “It’s a standoff.”
Just then, a golden glow like sudden dawn flared between them and the shadows. A clear, bell-like chime seemed to sound from everywhere and nowhere. Screams rose from the darkness, but where the shadows had shrieked before to terrify their victims, now the cries that came from the darkness sounded of pain and terror.
The shadows fled into the tree line. Alin, Jair, and the others did not take their eyes from the edge of the forest until they were certain the shadows were gone. Only then did Jair turn to see Talwyn behind them, her arms upraised, face turned toward the sky, lips moving in a
chant. Another blast of the golden glow streamed along the floor of the forest, beneath the lowest branches. It illuminated the forest floor like daylight, showing it to be clear of threat.
Talwyn lowered her arms and fell silent. Jair wondered if the others could see how much it drained Talwyn to work her magic. He could see the strain in her eyes, though he said nothing.
“Thank you,” Alin said, and his voice was not entirely steady. “What were those things?”
Talwyn’s lips pressed together in a thin line. “The restless dead. The blood magic of the Black Robes calls many things to its power. Restless and malicious spirits are hungry for warmth. And while they don’t have the power of
dimonns
, you see that they’re dangerous, nonetheless.”
“Gather the wounded,” Alin ordered. Out of the soldiers who had ridden with them, three had been injured during the encounter with the spirits. Several needed to bind up gashes before they would be ready to ride, and the healers came forward to tend them. More than one man cast wary glances toward the forest, expecting the spirits to return, as the healers bent to their work.
“You did well to hold the spirits here,” Talwyn said. “The Black Robes put up quite a fight. Their mage was more powerful than I expected, and it kept Mihei and me busy, so it’s good that we didn’t have the malicious dead to worry about as well.” She looked back toward the barrows.
“We took some casualties until we were able to strike down their mage. No one’s dead, but our healers will be busy for a while.”
“And the Black Robes?” Jair asked.
Talwyn sighed. “One died in the battle. That was their mage. Seven died fighting. We took the other four for judgment. They had already killed the man they took prisoner. The woman will need a mind healer. And from the preparations they’d made for the ritual, they’d obviously killed some other people. We had more body parts than bodies,” she said with a grimace.
“You’re certain they’re Durim? Were they trying to open the barrow?” Alin pressed.
Talwyn looked tired, and Jair could hear the fatigue in her voice. “Yes, they’re definitely Durim. We collected enough of their trappings to tell that they’re part of the cult of Shanthadura. And from everything we found, we’re betting they thought their power was stronger now because it’s the eve of the Moon Feast.”
They were walking within the area that had been inside the red dome. Jair could see scorch marks on the ground where the powers had clashed. The pyre still burned, and the air was heavy with the stench of burning flesh. The three cornstalk wheels had burned to cinders. Jair’s boot kicked something, and he looked down, bending for a better view. A human figure made from corn husks lay near his boot, and as Jair looked around the area, he saw others like it. Some were painted with symbols, while others had been dyed in colors. Many of the figures had been maimed, missing limbs or heads, or pierced through with nails. The wind shifted, carrying away the noxious odor of the pyre, and Jair caught the strong smell of camphor, rosemary, and thyme.
“Talwyn, have a look.” Jair motioned for her to see. Talwyn knelt next to the pile of figures Jair had made.
She let her hands hover above the poppets for a
moment, and Jair knew she was sensing for magic. Then she opened her eyes and began to gingerly handle the figures, turning them and frowning as she looked at the symbols.
“This gives me a whole new perspective on those spirits you fought,” Talwyn said, sitting back on her haunches. “We assumed the Durim called them to attack you. But I don’t think that’s what happened. This is going to sound really strange, but I think you actually saved those spirits.”
Jair looked at her in utter confusion. “How do you figure?”
Talwyn held up the corn husk figure in her hand. It was a reddish brown, and Jair bet the coloring came from blood. The figure had been struck through with a wooden nail. “The Durim weren’t content with the people and animals they killed. They were trying to raise real power here, and they wanted more sacrifices. These dolls are symbolic sacrifices. That’s why they’ve been ‘killed’ in effigy.” She looked around the battlefield in horror. “By the Dark Lady! It’s true what the old stories say about Shanthadura’s followers. Their appetite for blood is never sated.”
“Where did the spirits come in?”
Talwyn looked toward the now-quiet forest. “They would have become sacrifices, too. It’s the Moon Feast tomorrow. We celebrate the harvest from the crops in the fields. But there are old stories about another harvest that used to be held, long ago, before the ways of the Sacred Lady came to these lands.” She looked to Jair and met his eyes. “They called it the ‘soul harvest.’ ”
“What’s a ‘soul harvest’?”
Talwyn’s eyes took on a faraway look. “The stories say that the Shanthadura priests—the Black Robes—would cull the herds, taking out the sick, the old, and the lame. Those animals would be eaten, or offered as sacrifices. But they would do the same among the people, reducing the number of mouths to be fed over the winter. Those people became sacrifices, too. There would be bonfires, and sometimes, a huge effigy of Shanthadura, made of cornstalks and branches, and in its belly, some of the people would be burned alive.” She swallowed, then went on. “The Black Robes used that blood magic to bind the spirits of the dead. They called it a ‘soul harvest.’ They drew on the power of the souls to feed their own power, destroying the souls and robbing them of their rest. The weak souls they destroyed, but the stronger souls escaped them. Those they caught and couldn’t destroy they ‘hollowed.’ They left them like disembodied
ashtenerath
, wandering, mindless, out of control. They became like minor
dimonns
, tortured things that preyed on the living.” She shivered, and Jair put his arm around her shoulders.