Balancer (Advent Mage Cycle) (26 page)

“Yes sir?”

“When anything blocks you like this, and only gives you two directions to move in, we call it a fatal funnel. Doorways are fatal funnels too.” He added that last bit just to see how Bornemeier would react.

The kid hesitated a moment in his tracks before continuing, expression now thoughtful. “So fatal funnels are not our friends.”

“Right.”

Apparently the people following behind had been listening in on this conversation, as Bylund asked, “And how do you avoid these fatal funnels?”

“You create another path,” Bos answered in amusement. “He had me knock a hole in the wall the last time we had this problem.”

“And if we get stuck in a tight spot, that’s what I expect all of you to do!” Shad called back to them. Although he personally hoped that it didn’t come down to that. “Bornemeier, anything?”

“N—wait, someone is coming. But it’s not a Priest. It’s an Air Mage and another person she’s carrying.”

“She?” This was the first he’d heard that a triangle could tell gender.

“I recognize the power signature,” Bornemeier admitted, his eyes going up to the sky, as if he were looking for someone. “It’s Rinza. Ah, there she is!”

Shad would have known it was an Air Mage coming their direction even without Bornemeier pointing it out. He could hear the wind whizzing at high speeds. He’d only encountered one thing that made that sound—an Air Mage traveling. She came in with surprising speed, a man that Shad knew well standing at her side.

He took little notice of the Air Mage as Prince Audax dropped lightly to his feet. Shad’s toe started tapping an impatient rhythm. Wasn’t Garth supposed to have grabbed both royal hides and carted them off to a safe place?

“Audax, what by the guardians do you think you’re doing?”

The Prince arched an eyebrow at him in an arrogant manner. “I
can
go where I wish in my own palace, Shad.”

“Not when it’s overrun with Priests, you can’t!” Shad snapped back, itching to knock that expression of his face. Seriously, what
was
it about royalty that made them ditch common sense at every turn? For the love of— “Oh, forget it. You park your royal carcass right next to me and don’t budge an inch.”

Audax was not pleased at this instruction and a dark frown swept over his face like a growing storm. “You know good and well I can fight.”

“And
you
know good and well that if anything happens to you, your father will have my hide,” Shad retorted acidly. “Move, Princeling. I’m not taking chances with you. If you or your father falls, that’s one less ally we have.”

He clearly didn’t like being ordered about—Princes had issues with that sort of thing—but he must have recognized the truth of Shad’s argument for he obeyed promptly. Without another word, he came to stand at Shad’s left side.

“I’m needed elsewhere,” Rinza announced before taking off in a quick spurt of air that whipped everyone’s hair back for a moment.

Shad caught Aletha’s eye and inclined his head ever so slightly toward Audax. She gave a minute nod of understanding. If for whatever reason, Shad was distracted or cut off from the prince, she would step in. It probably wouldn’t happen. He couldn’t fight like he normally could, as if there were no real consequences, not with someone he needed to protect. He’d have to fight with more caution.

And the day had started with
such
promise, too.

“Sir, I’ve got a pocket of Priests up ahead and a little to the right,” Bornemeier pointed a finger in the general direction. A building blocked the path he indicated, but it was clear he meant somewhere beyond the obvious.

Shad loosened his sword in its sheath, blood starting to pump faster as his adrenaline rose. “Alright. Engage at first sight, but don’t become separated from the group. Roger?”

When he got nothing but affirmations back, he nodded in approval, a hungry smile curling the corners of his mouth up. “Good. Let’s move.”

~*~

Aside from avoiding ley lines, underground lakes, and large bedrock formations, I paid very little heed to my surroundings as I moved along the earth path. All of my concentration was upon Alvacon. I needed to find my team mates. It wasn’t the first time that I was grateful that magic followed intent—my magic moved me safely along to the palace grounds even though my mind was not as properly focused on it as it should have been.

As it turned out, such concentration wasn’t necessary. Once I slowed down long enough to extend my magical sense, I could feel them clearly. They left such a strong aura behind with every footstep, the earth registered their passing like the aftershocks of an earthquake. That was quite the magical fight over my head.

It was never wise to just rise out of the ground when people are close by. It was even more foolish to do so when those people were swinging swords around. I rose up several feet away from the main bulk of the fighting instead, in a narrow garden pass that divided two of the administration buildings from each other.

I stopped several feet inside the garden, closed my eyes, and focused on the ground underneath my feet. It appeared that this soil hadn’t been imported to make a garden, but rather the walls had been built around this patch of soil. I had a direct connection with the earth where I stood. Good.

For the second time that morning, time slowed to a crawl. A hint of a breeze shifted my hair and passed over my skin. I could hear every footstep and breath made by the men in the courtyard. The smell of the earth and plants invaded my lungs with every breath. The noise of metal striking metal, men and women crying out in anger or pain, the quick thuds of impact, all of it washed over me.

My feet moved of their own accord, going forward. Where were they? Somewhere in this bedlam, my team was fighting. I could feel them. So where were they?

The two doors on either side of the garden toppled inward, bouncing onto the ground and skittering a bit sideways. Several men, dressed in the silver robes of the Star Order, poured out into the open, swords and staffs in their hands. Knowing what they’d do once they got inside, I grabbed any hunk of dirt within reach of me and threw it. Not expecting an attack, the first Priests took the hit directly in the stomach and collapsed backwards. It did nothing to stop the next wave.

Their power was so intricately woven together that I couldn’t begin to unravel it. Some of them were armed with the long body-shields that spearmen were famous for using. They had that eerie feel to them that told me the shields were linked as well.

And now that they knew I could manipulate the earth, they hid behind the shields, so my usual attacks wouldn’t work.

Well. That’s what this was for, isn’t it? I rotated the bon’a’lon in my hands once, turning it to a lunge position, and went straight for one of those shields.

The Priest behind the shield quickly shifted it a little to the side, bringing a sword up, which I expected him to do. He thought that since I attacked as if I had a spear in my hands, I was limited to spear techniques.

He thought wrong.

Mid-lunge, I shifted the bon’a’lon to catch his sword near the hilt, rotated both weapons in a short circle, and broke his hold on the weapon. The sword dropped with a dull thud from his hand, and with him disarmed, I found it ridiculously easy to snap the staff up and smack him hard on the temple, rendering him unconscious.

As he slowly slumped to the ground, two of his compatriots came at me from either side. I lashed out at one, forcing him back for a moment, and then spun abruptly to avoid the attack of the other. I couldn’t do more than block one’s attack before the other was upon me, giving me no room to form a good offense.

Snarling, I launched myself into the air with a hard thrust from the earth. Just because I couldn’t use my magic against them didn’t mean that I couldn’t use it entirely. The thrust shot me up a good five feet, well out of their range.

But not out of mine.

I sent the bon’a’lon whistling around and against the enemy on the right, cutting through his shield, which sent him staggering for a moment. If he’d only been linked to his weapon, that would actually have taken him down, but with the inner city’s population fueling him… My attack only bought me a few moments. While that one staggered back, I used my downward momentum to reinforce my strike as I hit the other Priest. He predictably put his shield up to defend himself, but when I struck with that much force, it knocked him off balance and down onto one knee. The shield, being so long, jerked him sideways when it hit the ground, throwing him even more off balance. I used his open side without compunction and struck him squarely across the shoulders. He screamed as the blade scored his skin.

Pivoting on my toes, I brought the bon’a’lon up and around, whistling through the air, then angled the attack to where I avoided both sword and shield, instead catching right behind the knee. Neatly hamstrung, the Priest gasped in pain and toppled.

Seeing how efficiently their fellows were cut down, the other Priests hesitated before engaging me. The others didn’t have staffs, just swords or ceremonial daggers. They’d banked on their shields being impenetrable to a normal soldier, allowing them to simply muscle their way through. But I could get through or around their shields. With all of the immense power at their disposal, the Priests should have been winning, but they didn’t know how to effectively
use
it.

The hesitation lasted only a few seconds, and then their determination propelled them forward once again. I no longer only had one or two opponents to contend with. They came all in a rush, presenting me with five different enemies that I had to defeat, whatever the cost.

I fell into a place where I did not try to judge anything with my senses, but rather simply reacted on a visceral level. I’d been fighting for years, and sparred with some amazing men and women. All of that experience gave me instinctual reactions that no amount of planning or strategy could keep up with, and it was that I relied upon. I felt each impact as my bon’a’lon struck out, the vibrations carrying up the muscles in my arms and chest. I did not focus on any one opponent, or the hot air in my lungs, or the sweat beading on my skin and starting to seep into my eyes.

Clang, cling,
shing
, thud—the sounds of the weapons striking against each other, or the shields, or against human flesh blended into each other like a mixed up symphony of instruments. With each strike, the blood magic vibrated in the air and pricked against my magical sense. I could fight for hours before fatigue drew me down, but fighting on a physical level
and
a magical one took quite the toll. I did not know how long I could keep this up.

On some level, a part of my mind had been keeping track of the battle raging behind me. It occurred to me that the din of noise had faded, to where there was only pocket areas of resistance.

We were either winning or losing, and I didn’t dare turn to look to see which it was.

Instead, I went into a full out attack on the Priest in front of me. He was more skilled than the others had been, and more desperate. It took every ounce of skill I possessed to keep from losing my head while I exchanged blocks and parries with him.

In the end, stamina determined the match. His muscles trembled from the exertion, sweat blinded him, and he reacted a second too slow. My bon’a’lon connected with the side of his head. With a sickening crunch, he slid slowly to his knees and collapsed on the ground.

I took two steps back, clearing room for me to fight, braced for the half a dozen men still standing to come at me. They jerked as if a taut line had been cut, the most astonished looks on their faces. I felt it at the same time they did—that hum of barely leashed power dissipated abruptly into thin air.

A feral smile stole over my mouth. So, the Priest I’d just defeated was their focal point, eh?

The shields’ power slithered and faded away, leaving only ordinary shields behind. Heavy shields, at that. Several of the Priests struggled under their weight without power amplifying their strength. Without those powered shields, they had no trump card to use against us, and no possible chance of victory.

Without a word to any of them, I placed a powerful barrier up around all of the Priests, caging them in. Without the shields, there was no way they could free themselves unless I willed it so. As soon as they were contained, I turned around. “Chatta! Night! Xiaolang! Anyone?!”

“
Here,
” Night responded, voice sounding tired. “
Are you alright?”

I am, and the Priests are contained,
I assured him a little impatiently.
Are
you
alright?

“
Everyone here is fine. We had a little trouble with some Priests, but Xiaolang and Shad took care of them. No one’s injured.”

I sent up a silent prayer of thanks to the guardians.
Good. Should I come get you?

“
I have no way of describing where we are. Besides, I think—”
There was a pause as if Night was distracted for a moment. “
Dassan says that we are going to cast a circle right here to strip the Priests while they’re down. Where are you?”

In one of those side gardens between some of the administrative buildings, I think.

“Get up on the roof so that we can see you.”

I built a small pillar under my feet that lifted me up to the same level as the roof line.

“
Ah, there you are. Do you see him, Dassan? Alright, yes. Garth, Dassan says that you should just stay right there. You’re actually in a pretty good position to help with the circle.”

Alright. Just tell me when
. I allowed the bon’a’lon to go back into its condensed form and hung it on my belt.

Roughly a minute slipped past before Night’s voice came in my head again.
“Now.
”

I joined in with the circle, holding my concentration mainly on the Priests gathered at my feet. With this many magicians joining in, it didn’t take long to strip their blood magic away. When we were done, and the circle closed, the Priests huddled in on themselves, some sobbing, others just silently rocking back and forth.