Bones of the Empire (43 page)

“Hello, Estin,” the ghost whispered, its feet touching the ground briefly. He stared at Estin with eyes that gleamed yellow, then turned to watch the Turessian being battered by Rishad in the distance. Returning his attention to Estin, the ghost laughed airily. “It was good to see you again. Perhaps we can talk another time.”

“Oramain…” Estin gasped.

The ghost chuckled and floated away. Once he was about twenty feet away, he faded from sight. Try as he might, Estin could not find him.

A distant vibration snapped Estin out of his worry for where the ghost had gone. The sensation seemed to come from the air itself, and he glanced back up the hill to see Mairlee raising her hands to the sky. A second later, a rush of air came down heavily, knocking every combatant to the ground. In vast swaths, the undead either crumbled to ash or lay where they fell, unable to defend themselves as armored people scrambled to cut them down. It took only a few minutes and the entire battle had turned, with thousands of soldiers coming out to meet Feanne and the werewolves, who were staring at the destruction around them as though unsure what to do next.

Estin turned his attention back to the Turessian Rishad had attacked and saw Rishad lay in a twisted heap. The robed woman fled toward the hills in the distance. She was far faster than anyone but another Turessian, so there was no point in pursuing. Instead, he got up and hurried down the hillside to Rishad, who was already nearly whole by the time he arrived.

“Are you all right?” Estin asked, coming to his side. A rib that stuck out through Rishad’s robe slipped back under the skin as he nodded. “Someone you knew?”

“My sister…I think you’ve met her.” Rishad lay down hard, wiping blood off his face. “Liris is Dorralt’s new general. I think we will see much more of her. He gives her far more strength than he ever gave me. This really changes our old sibling rivalries. Imagine fighting with a sibling who can break your spine by accident.”

Patting the man’s shoulder, Estin got back up and headed through the remains of the battlefield. Heavily armored men and women moved from one zombie to the next, hacking off their heads. Most were already lifeless, but Estin understood the precaution.

Near the middle of the field, Feanne stood with the werewolves at her back, facing ten armored soldiers. Estin could see no tabards or land’s flags among them, and they stood silently.

The lead man among them watched Feanne and then Estin through the slit in his visor. He lowered his shield and let it fall to the ground before tossing aside his sword and walking toward Feanne. “Pack-leader…” the man said softly, his voice echoed by his helmet. He looked to Estin next, laughing faintly. “And our healer. I really should not be surprised by anything anymore.”

Feanne gave Estin a brief gesture that told him not to get any closer. She kept herself between the man and the werewolves, ready for anything. They had been fighting far too long to assume anything.

“Identify yourself, human,” Feanne barked, pointing sharply at another soldier that had took a step forward, stopping him where he was. “Right now everyone here smells of death. I want to see your face before I let any of you a single step closer. My wolves will tear you all apart if you try to approach.”

Nodding, the human motioned for his fellow soldiers to take a few steps back, which they did. Turning back to the werewolves and wildlings, he unbuckled his helm and pulled it off, letting it fall to the ground. Unruly brown hair that had grown considerably since Estin had seen him last was matted to his head after the battle, but his chiseled jaw and the youthful gleam to his eyes was unmistakable.

“Lieutenant Linn?” Estin asked, staring in shock at the human he had not seen in years. “I thought everyone died in the valley.”

“Not really a lieutenant for any one city anymore, but yeah, it’s me. I thought everyone who wasn’t with us died,” Linn said, eyeing Feanne before taking a knee in front of her. “I assume you’re still in charge?” Feanne smirked at that, but kept quiet. The werewolves behind her snarled and pawed at the ground. “Your pack has gotten a lot rougher-looking, Feanne. I miss the old family, but this will probably be better suited to war.”

While Linn remained on one knee, the other soldiers with him removed their own helmets. Estin’s eyes widened as he saw a dark elven woman, a fae-kin with small stubby horns that seemed familiar, and a dark-skinned human that could easily have been Yoska’s brother. Farther back, other soldiers milled about, and Estin saw dwarves, an angry little halfling in once-fine rags, orcs, ogres, and anything else he could imagine.

There were even creatures he had long considered “monsters” among them, most notably two little scaly skinned humanoids with row upon row of pointed teeth that eyed the corpses greedily—goblins. He had never even heard of someone taming them, let alone trusting them with weapons and armor.

Near the goblins, a tight-knit group of red-skinned creatures with big black eyes, stubby wings, and horns gleefully tore apart several of the undead. Estin had to think through rumors and legends and realized they were kobolds, demonic little monsters that parents tended to use as a threat for their children. Estin had never seen one himself, but Feanne had mentioned them offhand several times in her stories about wandering in the woods near Altis.

“I see you noticed my army,” Linn said, grinning as he stood. “Seems having legions of undead walking through land after land motivates people to work together. Most of them came to me. We’ve been adding a hundred or so with each land we crossed coming here. Half of them don’t speak our language, but that didn’t stop them from following us and helping. I have to admit, I was more than a little reluctant with some of them.”

A squeal from the edge of the army made Estin jump and Feanne’s ears perk as she braced herself to fight. Many of the werewolves lowered themselves to the ground, ready to attack the thin little female that came running on hooved feet from the army toward them, wearing leather armor over a hand-sewn dress that did not belong on a battlefield. The female deer leaped onto Feanne, knocking her onto her back with a joyous squeak, oblivious to the werewolves watching.

“Pack-leader!” Alafa exclaimed, sitting up atop Feanne with her huge eyes beaming…until she saw the werewolves all around her and looked at Feanne to see bared fangs. With another squeak, Alafa dove aside and hid behind Linn, peeking out at Estin and Feanne. “Good to see you?”

“Alafa is one of our best scouts,” Linn explained, patting Alafa on the top of the head, helping to calm her as she twitched her nose and stared at one of the werewolves. “Outruns nearly anything that comes after us.”

“Are the wolves friendly carnivores or the scary eat-my-brothers kind?” Alafa asked, moving to Linn’s other side.

Sitting up and brushing snow off herself, Feanne said, “They are allies. I would not go so far as to say friendly. They are as friendly as I ever was.”

Alafa blinked a few times and then seemed to relax, turning to look up at Linn, as though she had forgotten the werewolves already. “I found a creepy furless female with the pointy ears sneaking around back.”

“She means me, I’m afraid,” Mairlee said, slowly walking up to the group. “Everyone ran a little too fast for me to keep up.”

Linn patted Alafa again and bowed his head to Mairlee. “I know Estin and Feanne…you I don’t know.”

Smiling as she bowed back, Mairlee answered, “A retired wizardess along for sage advice and little else. They call me Mairlee.”

“Well met, Mairlee.” Linn started to turn back to Estin. Suddenly his eyes went wide and Alafa screamed before running back toward the rest of their army. The man snatched his shield and sword from the ground, and the werewolves near Estin looked around in confusion. Estin frantically looked about, trying to find a threat and seeing nothing. “Estin, get down!”

Turning to look over his shoulder, Estin saw Rishad and Turess walking up, talking to each other, unaware of Linn’s reaction. Estin hurriedly stepped between them and Linn, putting up his arms to stop the two Turessians and keep Linn from going past him.

“They’re friends,” Estin said quickly, as Turess and Rishad stopped right behind him. He swore he heard Rishad laugh. Turess noticed the weapon pointed at him and moved back a step.

Linn kept his sword drawn and slowly glanced over at Feanne, then to the werewolves, and finally back to Estin, with the two tattooed humans. His eyes narrowing, he slowly lowered his sword, but did not sheath it. “Thirty werewolves, two Turessians, and an elven wizardess who claims to be retired,” Linn said, frowning deeply. “You two keep company as odd as you always did. I’ll allow them into my camp if you’re vouching for them, but I won’t claim to trust them. Follow us back to camp. We may not be able to offer much, but we do have information and plenty of food. It’s the least I can do.”

Estin gave Rishad quick warning about being on good behavior, and when he turned back, Mairlee was right in front of him, smiling warmly.

“It is funny how these things happen,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “Almost as though your life intertwined with all the people you would need to survive this whole thing. Fate is a funny thing, isn’t it? Did you know that Linn’s parents once worshiped at the last shrine dedicated to me? Quite a coincidence.”

Estin waited until the others had wandered off after Linn, leaving him alone with Mairlee. “How much of this is your doing?”

“Remarkably little,” she replied, grinning and walking away, with Estin hurrying to keep up. “You and your mate did most of the heavy lifting on this. I merely nudged the odds. About the largest thing I have done so far was getting you to Altis as a child. Everything else arranged itself.”

“With Honor”

“Raeln, get over here!”

His ears shot up—or as “up” as one of them would go anymore—and Raeln searched the endless expanse of tents and quickly constructed huts for Dalania, who had called for him.

With five clans, two lesser clans, their slaves, and ancestors now following, it was getting overly crowded, even out on the plains. Twice in the last week, they had faced skirmishes with Dorralt’s forces, most of whom had been trying to retreat back to the Turessian temple somewhere in the north, and each of those fights had brought more people under Raeln’s banner. The clans no longer bothered to explain why they did or did not trust Raeln. They simply wanted to unify for a common cause that did not require them to defile the ancestors of anyone.

Finally spotting Dalania, standing as apart as she could manage in the crushing mass of black-robed humans, Raeln pushed his way through the crowd to get to her. It was far easier than he remembered in any of the southern cities, given the Turessian dislike of physical contact. One stray touch of his fingers, and people practically leaped out of his way. According to Yiral, he had been nicknamed “Touching Wolf” by someone, and the name had spread. So far, they had been kind enough not to call him that in his own language.

“What is it?” Raeln demanded once he was close enough that he could ask without shouting. “Are the scouts back from Jnodin yet?”

Nodding vigorously, Dalania quickly replied, “Yes. They all got back about twenty minutes ago. We need to ride right now or there is no chance of getting a look at Jnodin. They are reporting that the mists have nearly cut us off already. Within a few hours, the city will be lost. They did see a large force moving north from the walls, but at a distance, they had to assume it was more of Dorralt’s troops.”

“Any sign of Feanne and Estin?”

Dalania shook her head, but motioned toward two horses that were already saddled and led by a young Turessian boy. “No one has seen much, though I still believe that is where they would look for us, if they’re alive. I would not delay further, though. If they are in there, we don’t have long before they’ll run and be gone again. Even if they are not there, the people fleeing the city might have seen them.”

Running to the horses, Raeln practically jumped onto one, startling the beast enough that it reared and tried to buck him. He got it under control and kicked with his paws, taking off at a run, with Dalania not far behind him. They rode through the sprawling village that the Turessians had created around their latest camp, until finally they could ride free on the open plains. Raeln could see Turessians running for their own horses in a hurry to catch up, but with his head-start, he was fairly certain he and Dalania would be alone for this. It was how he wanted things, especially if what they found was anything less than his friends alive and well. The last thing he needed were Turessian preservers trying to explain to him to be calm at all times, or offering to raise Estin and Feanne as undead.

They raced across the snowy plains toward the distant walls of Jnodin, which had been spotted the previous evening. Raeln had ordered the clans to stop and rest the night, with the expectation of reaching the city at first light. On a whim, he had sent scouts to make sure the city was intact, and he had regretted that choice the moment the sun had set, letting him see the glow of mists all across the southern horizon. Now it was directly toward that glow that they rode as fast as the horses would take them.

The northern gate came into sight as the walls grew steadily larger. So too did the mists, which rose like a wave overtop the far side of the city. Raeln had never seen mists as dense or as widespread as these, stretching across the entire mountain range that contained Jnodin. The mists were already tearing at the southern end of the city, crashing and rising again, seemingly taking their time to utterly obliterate the place.

Far to the west, Raeln could make out another group racing northward. Snarling, he realized it was probably a scout force for Dorralt, but his goal was not to engage them this day. For once he wanted to go somewhere without bloodshed, so he could find friends who were not bleeding their last into the snow, as far too many humans had in the last few weeks. With only himself and Dalania, he could not even consider engaging the enemy. If that force turned around, he would be forced to flee.

“Don’t stop at the gate,” Raeln called over his shoulder. “Ride through the main loop of the city. Grab any survivors and keep going. If we don’t find them, there’s no time to wait. Get in and get out.”

Dalania lowered herself on her horse, somehow urging it to ride even harder without any visible prompting. Her mount passed Raeln’s as they approached the gate—surrounded by abandoned boxes and bags, as well as one crate as large as a wagon that looked as though it had arrived later than the rest. She disappeared into the shadowed interior of the city, turning left down the main street. From what Raeln remembered of the place, she was headed in the direction that would take her past the northern temple.

As soon as he passed under the gate, Raeln yanked his own horse right, hoping to double the ground they covered. The entire city was built like a giant wheel, meaning they would meet up somewhere on the south end of Jnodin—assuming the mists held off that long. He could already see them filling much of the sky, making that highly unlikely. If he had to guess, the mists rose nearly two hundred feet.

All around Raeln, abandoned wagons with broken wheels, dropped belongings, and even stray horses and dogs were visible, often scattering when they saw him. Everything he saw would be destroyed or killed soon enough, making him wish he had more people with him to salvage supplies from the city. There simply was not enough time. Had he waited for anyone else, the city would have been gone before they arrived.

A distant boom of a building collapsing helped prod Raeln’s horse to ride even harder, making its way gradually southward. Once he had followed the curved road far enough to see the southern half of the city, he spotted the mists hanging over the walls, churning like a tornado that was about to descend. His horse’s eyes widened with panic, but to its credit, the beast just kept running.

Raeln sniffed almost constantly, even as his head began to spin from getting too much air. He could pick out human scents everywhere, despite his poor sense of smell and the broken bones in his muzzle, but there was nothing familiar. He started to think the ride was a waste. He watched the mists evaporate the southern walls and caught the faintest hint of Estin’s scent. The man was unique enough that Raeln would know his smell anywhere. If Raeln’s nose could find him, he had to have been close recently.

Snapping the reins, Raeln directed his horse straight toward the mists. He was not sure if he was getting closer or farther from the scent, but it was the only lead he had.

The shrill cry of a child snapped Raeln’s attention to one of the side streets. His horse slowed and stopped, bucking against his order to keep running straight at the mists. Raeln leaped off the animal and dragged it to a post near a shop. After tying the horse off, Raeln listened for another cry and faintly made out sobbing in the distance. He took off running toward it, hoping he was not too late. Even if he could not save his friends, he would not leave a child to die here.

Raeln entered the labyrinthine alleys that lined the main street, following his ears as much as his nose to find the child. He came out in a back street, where a human boy, probably no older than six, was sitting on the ground near a toppled wagon, crying. As Raeln approached, the boy sniffled, looked up, and then screamed and hid behind part of the wagon.

“Come with me!” Raeln called out, but the child slid farther back. “There’s no time!”

Looking south, Raeln saw the mists had not only breeched the city, they had swept away most of the southern buildings with the force of a hurricane, but without the winds. He had maybe five minutes before the mists would reach the street where he stood.

“Please!” Raeln begged, circling the wagon while the child continued to evade him. Raeln stopped halfway around the wagon when something caught his eye. Looking down, he saw a human woman’s arm sticking out from underneath. He frantically searched the street and saw the broken leads at the front of the wagon, where horses or oxen would have been fastened. They had broken free and run, toppling the wagon on the driver and likely tossing the boy.

Kneeling, Raeln touched the woman’s hand, finding it cold. She had been dead awhile already. There was no saving her. He would have to save her child to make amends for being too slow to arrive. He owed her that. Another life lost because he had failed.

Raeln leaped onto the wagon and down to the other side, catching the child by the shirt before he could escape. Pulling the screaming boy to his chest as he ran, Raeln tried to ignore the sound of stone and wood being crushed behind him. The mists were far closer than he would have liked. In a moment of foolishness, he glanced back and saw the mists were rolling into the street like a crashing wave of water, collapsing every building in their path as they tried to reach him.

Carrying the child, who had yet to take a breath between screams, Raeln broke out into the main street where he had left his horse. The animal was gone, leaving only a small bit of the leather reins still tied to the post where he had left it.

“Smarter than I am,” Raeln muttered, shifting the child to keep him from slipping away. He searched the street for anything else that he could coax into carrying him out of the city, but found the whole place abandoned. He would have to get himself out.

Glancing back over his shoulder, Raeln watched as the buildings on the south side of the street collapsed under the mists, their wood and stone floating away into the cloud. He was no more than twenty feet from them and could already feel an unnatural tingle across his skin. The boy he carried sobbed more softly as Raeln backed away from the mists and then turned to run.

Raeln raced through the city, urged far beyond the fastest he had ever run before by the crashes of buildings falling behind him. His legs went numb long before he could see the northern gates, but he kept moving, knowing that even if he broke a leg, he had to keep going or they both would die. The pads of his feet felt torn to shreds, but there was no choice but to keep going.

The northern gate came into sight, with Dalania sitting atop her horse in the middle. She had no one with her and had not noticed him yet, so Raeln let out a shrill bark in the hope that she would hear him. He could not spare enough breath for anything more.

Her attention snapping to him, Dalania kicked her horse and rode straight at Raeln. Another crash behind him made him wonder if she would be too late. Already his tail felt flame and ice licking at it from the mists. He tried to find the breath to shout for Dalania to run, to stay away from him, but he could not pull enough air into his lungs.

About twenty feet from Raeln, Dalania turned her horse, aiming to come around as she would reach him. The increasing winds at his back told him there would be no time for her to stop.

“Take him and go!” Raeln shouted, flinging the child at where Dalania would be a second later. She managed to grab the boy midair as her horse finished righting itself. With a glance nervously at him, Dalania flicked her reins again and ran for the gate, leaving Raeln behind.

Raeln pushed himself to his limits as his whole back began to freeze. He could no longer feel his tail, and every stride his paws would hit what felt like a pool of water behind him. The odds of outrunning the mists were immeasurable, but he was not about to stop trying. He had lived through far too much to ever give up.

His paws pounding loudly on the stone street, Raeln passed the old temple as he made for the gate, where Dalania had stopped to watch him. Grinning happily that he had made it even that far, he opened his mouth to yell his thanks to her for taking the child—and tripped over an uneven stone. He, flipped forward and crashed hard across the pavement, tearing his clothing and skin as he slid to a stop.

Frantically rolling to his side, Raeln watched the mists race toward him before turning abruptly east. They moved as one creature, diverting toward the temple and leaving him intact, only five feet from a blackened section of the street. In some spots that had been pavement seconds earlier, ice melted in the sunlight, while other areas had been coated with sand or mud. Likewise, ice crystals melted into his fur, having coated much of his lower legs and tail, though he could see some areas where he had instead been burned.