Harbinger: The Downfall - Book One (40 page)

“They are all over the city,” Dawn told the others. “They look like they are searching it.”

“We are sitting ducks out here on the open road,” Rogen observed as he glanced back at the growing mass of creatures around the city. “Maybe we should move to the side of the road?”

“This is the shortest route,” Cyril answered. “If we run beside the road, we slow down. If we make a beeline across country for the drawbridge, we have to fight the terrain. There will be pitfalls, ravines, ditches, hills, loose sand, rocks, and other things that would slow us.

“We need to go, now,” Cyril said, turning back to the road and beginning to jog towards the castle. They all followed.

“Is there any way we can hide from them?” Dawn asked. “I can bring fog, but the clouds and fog would attract more attention than the cover would be worth.”

“I will try to give us some cover,” Cyril answered. He prayed to Jonath to protect them, to blend them with the rock and earth they ran across. The others prayed it was enough.

It worked well enough for a short time, and then Gruedo called out to the others. “Heads up guys, it looks like they didn’t find what they wanted in the city and are widening their search.”

“I don’t know if we will remain hidden if they come in for a closer look,” Cyril warned. “Anyone else have any ideas?”

“I may be able to block us from being detected by the Troöds’ mental powers, but it won’t hide us from someone just looking,” Cite said.

“Find us some cover, and then I can do something,” Dawn said, her tone grim.

They ducked behind the next large rock outcrop they found. Dawn dropped her bags and rubbed her arms to restore the circulation from the weight. “I may need to stay here.”

“I can stay with her,” Gruedo offered.

“No, we may need your expertise at the door,” Rogen said.

“Then I will stay,” Cite said. He continued before anyone else could object. “I can cover you better when I am not running. Besides, if they do get this far we can offer a distraction and keep them far enough away that they won’t see through Cyril’s spell.” Rogen and Cyril nodded. Gruedo looked as if she might object, but nodded instead. The three others left the extra weight of their bags with Dawn and Cite and headed up the winding path to the castle.

The small flying imps that had come through the rift first began a slow back and forth sweep that brought them closer and closer to the castle. Dawn drew upon the strong energies of the ley lines in the area. The castle was definitely a nexus. She began bringing the wind in, kicking up small dust devils. She drew moisture from the waterfalls and the ocean, which wasn’t too far away. Clouds began to form.

The walk from the city took the five of them almost half a day, but the vanguard was flying and advanced considerably faster. The mass of the force had to walk also, but they were moving swifter than most mundane armies would. Twenty or more lead scouts came closer each moment. The Troöds stayed behind their servants, letting them lead the way. Kez’et-dual flew back and forth between the reptilian people and the small ground demons that scurried and scampered toward the castle. They were in no rush. The noise of their gibbering could be heard across the distance like a wave of sound.

Cite went through his mental arsenal, searching for anything that might help if the creatures reached Dawn and him before his friends opened the castle. Even if they did open the castle, it did not guarantee safety. There were no troops waiting to charge out, no promise that once his friends were inside they could help him and Dawn, and no assurance that the two of them could make it to the others before the horde fell upon them. He wasn’t even sure if his psychic daggers would affect these fiends the way it affected normal people.

They ran towards the door in a single file line, Cyril leading and Gruedo bringing up the rear. The girl gave occasional updates of their friends, letting the others know that she could still see Dawn’s red hair, or how close the advancing line was to their friends. The cloud darkened as the wizard’s magic called upon the elements to hide her and her friends. It crept in slowly. The trio watched a slow gray line of rain advance from the south. It wasn’t long before they were running through it. It was a solid wall, and Gruedo soon gave up on reporting on the others or the Troöd force. She commented that it must be a good thing if she couldn’t see the enemy; it also meant that the enemy couldn’t see the three running for the drawbridge. Rogen and Cyril wasted no breath in answering.

The rain stopped, as if they had run through a door and indoors. The sun shone overhead. Behind them was the dark storm they had just left, still hiding everyone within. The mountain loomed above, and the immensity of the structure awed and humbled them. When they reached the end of the path, they stared across the forty-foot chasm at the massive closed entryway that fit snuggly into the cliff face.

“Where does your key go?” Rogen asked Cyril. The priest looked around the ground upon which they stood, dismayed.

“How about there?” Gruedo pointed to a small indentation to the right of the colossal door, on the other side of the rift.

Rogen peered down into the drop and at the raging river below. “How do we get across?”

“We better figure it out quickly,” Cyril said. “It looks like some of those things have spotted us.”

The three looked down the hill and saw that two of the small winged creatures had landed just outside the edge of the storm and were pointing at them. The creatures appeared not to be able to agree on what to do and began shoving and hitting each other. Moments later a couple dozen other demons appeared from the rain wall. The two demons stopped fighting, nodded in unison and launched themselves back towards the hidden army. The others continued forward.

“I can deal with them,” Rogen said, digging into his pouches and drawing out powders and crystals. He etched a circle into the dirt with a dagger, pouring chalk into the lines, as the others watched. Drawing a dozen smaller circles into the dirt, attached to the larger circle, he then drew symbols within each. Stepping inside the largest, he began to chant in a language that his two friends didn’t recognize.

A portal opened in front of him, and a large form, twice the size of a man, stepped through, ducking as it did so it could fit through. It had the head of a gorilla with bull horns. It body was covered with coarse dark hair, and four arms sprouted from its massive chest. Its legs were short, and it bent so one set of knuckles supported its weight. A dozen other beings followed. They were each larger than a man, and were twisted parodies of a human, without noses or mouths, and were covered with grey scabs that resembled scales.

“Titusian,” Rogen said, his voice booming with authority, “I command you to attack those that approach here and destroy them. Send them back to the abyss from whence they came. I agree to your price, and have sent the payment to your home. It awaits you once you finish this task.”

The hulking demon grunted as it glared at Rogen through slitted eyes. It turned with a guttural scream, and with a wave of a massive clawed hand, gathered its troops and loped towards the approaching fiends.

“Small reprieve, how do we get over there?” Rogen said, bringing their attentions back to the problem in front of them. Gruedo and Cyril watched the forms grow smaller, then turned back to the task on hand, but not before Cyril gave the Rokairn a mistrustful look.

“I can get over there.” Gruedo dropped her satchel and drew out a thin coil of rope. She tied it off on an outcropping and looked for a place that a grapple would catch on the mountain’s smooth face.

“They built it so no one could do exactly what you are trying to do, Gruedo,” Cyril told him.

“Maybe so, but they never planned for me to show up in person. Which one of you has the best throwing arm?” She dug into her satchel again and brought out two small vials.

“I do.” Rogen answered.

“Fine. Cyril, give the man your spear. Go on, if you want into your new digs, make with the spear giving.”

Cyril handed his spear to Rogen and Gruedo reached out and brought the butt to her. She notched it with her dagger and tied a simple knot around the haft, making sure it would hold.

“Once I pour this stuff on, you need to throw it quickly, just above the thing over there that we need to put the key into, alright?” Rogen nodded and eyed the small area. The young thief applied the first vial, a thick whitish liquid, to the back two thirds of the spearhead. The second vial she poured on the tip of the spear, rolling it to coat all sides.

“Now, quick!” Gruedo shouted. It wasn’t necessary. The short man had already drawn the weapon back and, sighting down the length of his leading arm, let it fly. His aim was true and it struck a foot above the alcove and sunk into the hard stone to the wooden shaft.

Rogen looked down and saw the curly haired lass kicking sand onto his boots. “What are you doing?”

“You got some on you. It would have eaten through that tough old boot and made a meal of your toe next.” Gruedo pointed at the foot. Rogen looked down and saw a small hole in the top of his footwear, a wisp of smoke rising from it.

Gruedo had already moved back to the rock where she had secured the other end of the rope. She began winding it taut so she could cross to the other side. When it was tight, she held out her hand to Cyril.

“Hand me the key.” At Cyril’s incredulous look, she said, “Fair enough, you cross the rope over the raging rapids in the winds our friend kicked up.”

“I see your point. Perhaps this is more up your alley,” Cyril said.

Gruedo grinned. “Nice pun.” Cyril looked confused, and the girl laughed again. “You didn’t mean it as a joke. I should have known better. Well, you trusted me with it once before, time to do that again.” She held out her hand.

Cyril drew out the metal emblem that should open the gate and handed it to the cocky younger woman. With another smile, Gruedo dropped it in her satchel, which she had returned to its customary place on her shoulder. She made a small bow and leapt onto the rope. Arms wide, she faced her friends, then with a wink spun around and began advancing across the thin tightrope. It dipped under her weight as she made her way to the center.

They could see her focus now, no longer playing at theatrics. She placed one foot in front of the other, centering the rope in the arch of each foot. She moved carefully but steadily towards her goal. As she drew close enough she placed one hand into the divot in the cliff. Reaching into her bag, she drew out the key and lined it up with the weathered indentation that matched the shape of the medallion. Setting it into the notch, she waited for any result.

Turning back towards her waiting friends she shrugged and shouted, “I don’t know why, but maybe it doesn’t like me?” Cyril closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. “Maybe a priest of Jonath has to do it.”

A blast at the feet of Rogen and Cyril interrupted them. The rock that the rope was tied to exploded and the rope uncoiled. Rogen turned in the direction from which it had come to see Kala the Black stepping onto the roadway, flanked by six monstrous fae on each side. Cyril spun to look at Gruedo just in time to see her plummet into the canyon, key in hand.

Dawn had brought the earth up and created a stone dome around them, leaving rough holes for them to see out. This kept them dry as well as hiding them further.

They allowed the first scouts go by without harassment. They didn’t want to reveal their position too soon. Cite had seen how Kala had tied himself to other creatures to control them, but was reluctant to do the same for a variety of reasons. More because he didn’t want to sink to that level, and he didn’t want to psychically dirty himself with these creatures.  He satisfied himself with slamming them to the ground with his telekinesis, synchronizing his attacks with Dawn’s wind buffets.

She took a much more active role. Using the earth, she reached up, grabbed the minions and used the wind to smash them to the rocks. Holding back from using any fire or temperature attacks, such as hail or freezing rain, she didn’t want it to be obvious the invaders had any resistance yet. 

Cite noticed a faint whistling noise in his head as the Troöds approached. Recognizing it as the tag he had unconsciously placed upon Kala’s Troöd, Essude, during his sleepwalking episode, he began to track it. Once he found her, he compared it to the position of the other Troöds. Confused, he whispered to Dawn that there might be two different attacks coming.

She pulled water into the dirt and then drew the resulting mud across the roadway, preparing for the enemy’s arrival. It didn’t take long. The demon Kez’et-dual led the procession of Troöds from low in the air, fighting the winds as he did. The two got their first good look at the beings that had been such a trial for them in the past. There were two types, grays and greens. They both had large eyes and a long bridge of a nose that ended in two small slits that were nostrils. Cite noticed that it was the emerald Troöds that he could feel mental powers from, and that the gray Troöds were the ones to whom the small demons reported. The dusky ones were smaller and a bit stockier than the greens that moved with predatory grace.

The horde stopped about a hundred yards past the stone outpost that hid them as the small forerunners returned with their report. The two hidden friends could not hear the exchange, but could guess what was said as Kez’et-dual went mad, grabbing the messenger and tearing it in two. He grabbed a vert Troöd, tore off its head and began beating the second reporting imp with the body. They could hear him screaming. The reaction of the lizard-like people was immediate. Emeralds disappeared from sight, and the ash Troöds began calling out commands to their demonic slaves.