Message Bearer (The Auran Chronicles Book 1) (35 page)

Seb nodded. He dropped to
his knees, palms open. He cast out his
sense
far and wide. The Weave
came easily and awareness flared, the world beyond the warriors ablaze as his
imbued sight saw beyond the limits of his human eyes.

At first all he saw was a
sea of black as hordes of possessed humans raced across the lawn. Then beyond,
up near the ridge, he saw them. Sheol still, but stationary. They glowed with
Weave-energy, and he could feel the subtle pulses they sent to the raging mass
below them.

‘There!’ Seb pointed to
the ridge. ‘There’s two by the old oak, just behind the pair of gargoyle
sentinels. There’s one more to the other side. Follow the line of site across
the roof through the weather vane. He’s right there.’

‘Excellent. Steve,
Dimitar – phosphorous mortar. Set the elevation for a cloud burst at those
coordinates. The rest – suppression fire at those locations. If we get them on
the first pass then the ferals will fall apart.’

At once Brotherhood
weapons opened up, muzzles flashing, the air redolent with cordite. The mortar
fired, making a low
whoompf
noise. Seb watched through imbued sight as
the foliage protecting the sheol commanders shook under the onslaught. The one
on its own staggered and fell almost instantly, its aura vanishing at the same
time. The other two managed to reach cover, but only as the cluster of
phosphorous bombs exploded above them. One disintegrated instantly. The other
dropped to the ground and rolled back and forth. Seb focussed his sense and
winced as the fiend’s screeches of pain reached him.

‘They’re all down!’

***

Marek scowled as the last of the
commanders fell. He looked to the roof, ignoring the growls from Farouk next to
him.

‘There is a mage up
there. He is guiding their attacks.’ Marek said. Another phosphorous bomb
exploded above them but his shield held, the explosion causing the barest
shimmer on the barrier.

‘It has killed the
commanders. The ferals are no longer under their control,’ Farouk said.

‘Farouk, you take
command. Lead the assault on the mansion.’ Marek turned and looked back up as
the giant daemon bounded off into the night. ‘I will take care of the whelp.’

***

‘Keep firing. Everyone we take out here is
one less to fight hand to hand.’ Cade marched up and down the battlements,
barking orders to his men. They sprayed death from above, slicing through the
confused ranks of sheol as they ran amok in the gardens. Seb nodded in approval.
Perhaps they might have a chance after all.

Something flared in the
distance, near the ridge. Seb
focussed
. His mouth fell open and his
heart froze.

‘Off the roof! We have to
get off the roof!’

‘Why? Wh -’

The purple ball of fire
sprouted from the darkness on the ridge. It arched towards them at high speed.
The sheol in the grounds paused in awe, watching as the fiery ball of death
sped towards the mansion.

The shock lasted only momentarily. Seb,
Cade and the Brothers ran to the other side of the building. They leapt off
just as the fireball struck with a deafening roar. Masonry flew in all
directions as they dropped over the lip of the mansion. One warrior wasn’t so
lucky and a lump of ancient stone struck him face on. He plummeted ahead of
them, no longer touching the Weave and victim to gravity in its normal form.

Seb had hesitated before
he jumped, but only for a second. He didn’t have the luxury of the innate
skills of the Brotherhood. He had the Weave, but this was something he’d only
read about and never tried. For a moment, panic flared, his lungs suddenly filled
to bursting with frozen air. He brought the calm quickly, the action almost
pure instinct now. The world raced towards him, but he pushed back. He reached
out, feeling the subtle grip of gravity, pulling it off him and passing it
over, forming a dense bubble of air below him. His descent began to slow, and he
landed with a dull thump on wet grass, the shockwave of dissipating energy
knocking the nearest sheol off their feet.

The rest landed just
after him. Cade despatched the two sheol that still lay stunned on the ground. Seb
had rolled forwards, his landing not as elegant as the Brothers. He came to his
feet facing the building. The Brothers had all landed safely. Seb looked up,
and screamed.

‘Away! Move away!’

The Brothers didn’t waste
time looking to see the cause of his concern. They rushed forwards as an
avalanche of brick and ancient stone ploughed into the ground, sending plumes
of dust into the air.

‘We all here?’ Cade ran
to each of his men, pulling them and checking they were still in the fight.
Thanks to Seb, all had survived the storm of stones. Cade walked back to Seb.
‘How goes it inside?’

Seb
sensed
. Half
of the magi had fallen. Ten fought on in the hall. Their shields holding as the
confused sheol stalled their attack. Six more fought around the ground floor,
fighting a running battle with the sheol who tried to break in through the
other access points. Through it all Cian blazed around like a man possessed.
His aura swallowed all those around him, and everywhere he went sheol fell away
in fear.

‘We are holding. Perhaps
there’s a chance.’ Seb staggered as a cold wave of dread suddenly washed over
him. Cade caught him before he fell.

‘What is it?’

Seb
sensed
again.
All the imbued had felt it. Cade had stopped and was now turned towards the
hall. The sheol had even paused their attack, the waiting ten magi exchanging
worried glances with each other.

‘Seb!’

‘The daemon. The one from
the Nexus. It’s here.’

The horned fiend crashed
through the barriers erected by the magi in the hall. Before they could even
respond it picked up a fallen piece of wall and hurled it, crushing three magi
en route as it smashed through the wall on the other side where Seb and the
others stood. They dove to one side, rolling to their feet as the dust cleared.
Seb’s blood ran cold as the fiend stepped into view. Its one eye scanned the
destruction around it. Its gaze eventually settled on its next target.

Him.

The daemon grinned and
took a step forward. Cade stepped in front of him, a runed dagger held, pommel
first.

‘Take this. You might
need it.’

‘What?’ Seb said, not
understanding but taking it nonetheless.

Without a word, Cade and
his men turned and charged forwards into the breach.

‘Cade, no!’

‘Go, Seb! Someone needs
to survive this day!’

With that Cade was gone.
The Brotherhood warriors attacked the fiend with runed weapons. Two were
swatted away like flies. Others were luckier. They got inside the fiend’s reach
where their agility made up for their lack of strength. Swords and daggers
sliced open daemon skin as it howled in rage.

Seb!

Sylph! The panic from her
unconscious mind struck him like a slap. He reached out,
sensing
,
filtering out the screams of magi and brother. He found her, bloodied, winded
but unbowed. Sheol surrounded her, some of them clutching wounds that gushed
black ichor, but more piled up behind. She was losing, she knew that, but she
would not go easily.

Seb ducked inside the
opening and dashed to the right. He avoided a skirmish between two magi and a
handful of sheol and raced down the final corridor that led to the Drain. He
ignored the mutilated Brothers on the floor outside the door and pelted inside,
imbued legs carrying him at breakneck speed down the stairs.

‘Seb!’

Her relief washed over
him but the moment was short lived. A possessed stepped inside her sagging
guard, the claw raking skin, drawing angry red lines across her cheek. She
crumbled against the wall, only instinct keeping her moving as another blow
struck the wall, sending cracks running across the plaster. Seb took out the
dagger that Cade had given him. Without thinking he threw the blade across the
room. It hit the sheol on the back of the head, handle end first. The sheol
turned in surprise, but only for a second. Sylph wrapped her arms round its
neck and yanked its head to one side with a sickening click. It crashed to the
floor as its comrades turned to face the new threat.

‘Mageling!’ the largest
said, its mouth cracking into a vicious grin. It leapt over an upturned desk
towards him. He stepped back, and as it descended upon him he pivoted, gripping
the creature by its shirt and hurling it with all his imbued strength into the
wall by the stairs.

The others swarmed him as
he felt the lights go out on their leader. He let the Weave in completely, channelling
speed, awareness, strength. They launched attack after attack, his mind in the
now, his limbs blocking and deflecting on pure instinct. A fanged jaw lunged at
his face, crumpling as he drove a fist into the side of its head. Something
jumped at his back, his elbow snapping upwards and to the right, the creature
slumping lifeless at his feet.

Seb was a blur. He’d
never felt this way before, so totally in control. His conscious mind was
almost a passenger, his body a tool of the Weave, carving a path through the sheol
with abandon. Sylph was in sight. With renewed hope she fought the last of the
sheol, picking up Seb’s dagger and driving it up and inside the creature’s jaw.

‘Well, well, what a
pleasant surprise.’

Seb scrabbled backwards, the
voice shocking him out of his battle trance. He staggered to his feet on legs
that now were suddenly devoid of energy. He’d overextended himself with the
Weave. His head began to throb. The room swayed. He tried to focus on the
figure before him, knowing the voice even if his eyes wouldn’t connect.

‘Reuben.’ He spat blood
on the floor. Around him the surviving sheol formed a perimeter.

‘Your merry band has put
up a worthy fight,’ Reuben said. ‘Although as I’m sure you can tell, the battle
is lost.’

Seb didn’t waver in his
gaze, but he dared a quick sensing. Dismay clouded his mind. They were lost.
Only pockets remained. More had fallen. Sheol had assailed the roof and now
Cade, wounded, fought a last stand with his loyal brothers against the horned
daemon. Here and there the magi fought, side by side with their allies of old,
but every moment another was lost, a light snuffed out into the void. And yet
the sheol kept coming.

‘See,’ Reuben said, that
insufferable smile on his face, ‘Your moment of resistance is over. Your
time
is over. Was it worth it? Was it worth this futile crusade that you led?’

‘Are you just going to
talk all day, or are you going to stop hiding behind your drones and face me
like a man. You coward.’

He spat the last word out
with as much venom as he could muster. He couldn’t beat Rueben, even when at
full strength. But he was damned if he was just going to roll over and die
without a fight.

The challenge seemed to
work. A disbelieving silence fell across the possessed. Reuben’s face creased
into a snarl.

Screw this.

Seb didn’t wait for an
invitation. He summoned what he had, channelling the last vestiges of his
strength. The Weave seemed so far away now, his link to it tenuous, but he
squeezed what he could. He lunged forwards, fist aimed towards Reuben’s head. For
a moment he thought he might connect, but as his hand swung at speeds that
would’ve decapitated a normal human, he knew that he had overstretched. Reuben
flicked his head to one side, the blow glancing off his jaw. The warrior
countered with a jab of iron into Seb’s ribs that lifted him off the ground and
sent the air from his lungs. He dropped in a heap to the ground as an armoured
knee struck him square in the jaw. He felt himself leave the ground - no time
to brace for the impact - and smashed into the far wall.

Footsteps approached. The
end was coming, but he was spent. Death seemed a relief now. They had failed.
All was lost. At least he hadn’t died afraid, like he nearly did all those months
before.

Stay down.

Cian.

Footsteps even closer. Almost
in reach. He winced, closing his eyes. Salvation wouldn’t come in time.

That was when the earth
cracked.

He
dared to look, his eyes meeting with Reuben’s for a brief moment. The Second
Sword didn’t know, he couldn’t know, for he wasn’t a mage, he couldn’t hear
their song.

The ceiling exploded with
a roar that must’ve cracked the walls of the Veil itself. The iron drain, masonry,
dust and rubble crashed into the room. Reuben vanished under a plume of dust
and rubble as Cian dropped into the chamber.

‘Are you dead, boy?’

The warrior was covered
in a sheen of red. Cuts and wounds of various sizes seemed to cover the
entirety of his body, yet he stood, unwavering, the Weave pulsing from him like
a beacon.

‘Not quite,’ Seb mumbled.
He tried to stand but the energy simply wasn’t there.

‘Here,’ Cian leapt over a
pile of rubble. A hand the size of Seb’s head reached down and gripped his
wrist. Energy flooded into him, a pulse that evaporated the fatigue, numbing
the pain.