Shadows of the Keeper (49 page)

“This day,” she wailed in
Balkorian, “is not victorious for you!”  Utilizing their surprise her
image caused, she cut down three before having to parry against the
forth.  Silver and yellow sparks arced from their colliding blades. 
Horrific stench and smoke burned her nostrils and eyes and she knew villagers
reverted to tactics used by their ancestors.  Burning arrows began finding
their mark in many Lumynari warriors, screams causing her to laugh.

“Emily . . . you are crazed,” Broc
pressed his back to hers and together, they sliced and parried their
enemies.  Breathing became labored.  Too much smoke.  Her
innards roiled, involuntarily gagging, stench of burning bodies horrific.

“You cannot remain here.”

“Seems everyone is of that opinion
no matter where I am.”  There was a sourness in the pit of her
stomach.  She bent over, resting her free hand on her knee.  “Not
now.  I don’t have time to be sick!”

“You must return to the keep. 
It’s the only safe haven for you.”

“I do not need safety.  I need
. . . and end to this stench, and a way back to Dezenial. He battles the same
as we, below.”

“Your husband fights by our side—over
there, Lady Emily.”  Sword clashed against sword, momentarily waylaying
her from reacting to Broc’s revelation.  “Astride a horse, you will be
swift, but in plain view atop of all.  Xyn will send you to safety.”

“Who the hell is Xyn?”

Broc relinquished his sword. 
Blade continued slashing of his own volition until felling the enemy. 
Broc clutched Emily, forcing her to focus on him.  “An Elder, Pendaran’s
sire.  He will cast you back to the castle.”

“I don’t need wizards to assist—“

Keer’dra!  For your safety,
he is concerned.  Obey!  You must leave here!

Emily pushed away from Broc. 
Like a wild woman, she searched through wafting smoke and screaming
mutilations.  Various blades swung, she fought back, cutting a red path
towards what felt like a beacon.  When had he surfaced?  Why had he
not reached out to her?  Her nape prickled.  Instinct dropped her
hard to the red snow.  Arrows sailed overhead, thudding into the
enemy.  Hissing rage erupted, their comrades weaving before falling from
toxic arrow tips meant for the humans.  She pulled herself up and started
running.  For the safety of her twins, Broc was right—she needed to get
the hell away from here!  Though ancient power coursed through her, for
whatever reason, maybe her pregnancy, strength and endurance diminished. 

This was a mere playing field for
the Lumynari. 

“Where the hell are you?” she
screamed out to Dezenial.  Her eyes were fire, watering.  How could
anyone see?  She glanced over her shoulder.  A sound.  Broc,
running towards her.  Shouting.  Waving his arm.  Blade ripping
free from the laird’s grasp, streaking past her.  What?  She looked
in front of her.  Blade protruded from the throat of a body having emerged
unseen from thick smoke.

“My lady.”

Emily was tackled down into the snow,
a body pinning her.

Long seconds passed, no blade
penetrating her.  “Emily?  Are ye’ hurt?”  Broc, frantic.

Emily lifted her face, again
spewing snow.  “Sister Wind, oh lady fair, please command your purest
air.”  She buried her forehead, the numbing effect of snow clearing her
head.  Strange words to utter.  She’d try to remember to ask Aunsgar
or Dezenial how she’d known them.  Genetic memory again?

“Your magic improves.”

Focus.  Too much
haze.  Where are you, Dez?
   

Wind whistled, clearing
smoke.  Sudden ability to see enabled villagers and Forest Lords to better
defend against enemy attack.

“You must thank her.”

Emily yelped.  Aunsgar dropped
to her side with such stealth, he could have been the enemy.  Fear hitched
her ability to breathe.  “Sister Wind . . . will be properly tended . . .
soon as I’m free of this carnage.”

Twine snapped, Aunsgar’s bow
setting free a soaring arrow.  Cry of pain.  A second yelp when a
bolt thudded into their enemy as well.  Aunsgar and Emily shared a quick
grin.  Looking over their shoulder, Reignsfeugh was already running away,
crossbow aimed at his next target. 

“You cannot remain.”  The Elf
prince clasped her elbow and helped her back to her feat, holding on a few
minutes more until she felt more steady.  “Broc, we guard her to
Xyn.  The only way she’ll be free from here is the Elder’s power.”

Arguing was moot.  Surrounded
by a dozen Elves and men, she almost giggled at the unrealism.  Running as
quickly as they could in the churned snow, they dodged and weaved through
mayhem of bodies and occasionally were forced to stop and battle for their
lives.  Mental visualization, and Emily swept her hand.  An avalanche
of snow swept up like a wave, crashing down on a group of Lumynari and their
hideous creatures charging their way.  It would take bulldozers to uncover
their bodies . . . if such a thing existed in this realm. 

A tall man, isolated in his stance,
and as if invisible to those fighting around him, kept his gaze transfixed upon
her.  Xyn. 
Has to be
.  Their eyes locked.  A small
nod, scarcely perceptible, was his acknowledgement of her.  Shouting,
Emily spun about, her sword raised.  The enemy’s numbers were
dissipating.  She parried, Garreck stepping in and confiscating her
battle.  Her upper arm was grappled, yanking her to turn and continue her
flee towards magicks of the Elder.

Why doesn’t he just cast his
spell from where he’s standing?  Is this some kind of sideshow for
him?  Sick bastard
!  Rage swelled. 
How many more will
have to be cut down, dead or maimed before he drops his popcorn and acts
instead of watches? 

Is this how it was for Aurelia?

Careful your thoughts, Keer’dra
.

Emily yanked free, surprised to see
it was Broc holding her.  Crazed, she kept turning, searching for her
beloved.  “Dezenial!”  Tears sprang forth as she gathered her so
in-the-way-skirt, and sprinted towards him.

“Keer’dra!”  Horror contorted
his features.

Emily was pulled down to the
ground.  Gasping, lungs clawing to breathe, she gulped as Sister Wind
pushed into her great handfuls of air.  Dawning was slow.  It was not
the enemy lying atop her.  No talons grappled her skull, trying to yank free
her soul.  Another attack must have been coming from outside her visual
boundary, her concentration distracted by her obsession to get to Dezenial.

Dezenial.

She lifted her head, and swiped
snow from her eyes.  The body lurched from atop her.  Broc’s legs,
running.  Her eyes raced ahead.

Emily’s blood curdling scream
stilled all far and wide.

Dezenial lay upon his back.

Blood pulled either side of
him.  Pristine white snow morbidly reminded Emily of cherry juice pouring
over childhood snow cones.  Hands having lovingly caressed her now
clutched a black javelin.  A javelin protruding from his stomach.

“No! NO!
NO!
”  Her
running was halted, grabbed from behind.

“Milady, you must—“

Whomever had the misfortune to be
warning her was downed, grabbing his face.  She’d slugged with psychotic
strength.

Broc was kneeling over Dezenial.

“Get away from him!”  She
tugged the Forest Lord.  “You’re killing him!”

“Lass, I’m tryin’ ta’ save him!”
Broc yanked his tunic over his head, fisting it into the puddle flooding around
the nasty weapon protruding from the Lumynari’s belly.

“Dezenial!”  Emily screamed,
crazed.  Hadn’t she saved Aedan?  She held out her hands, flipping
them over and over.  No heat.  Nothing!  Frantically, she looked
to her husband.  Azure eyes beheld her tightly.  She grasped his
face.  “I don’t know how to call the power.”

“It only comes when the person is
pure.”

“Bullshit!  It’s my
power!  It should be up to me to call upon it.”  She was
sobbing.  “Don’t you die.  Lumynari don’t die.  You’re supposed
to be immortal.  Daemon.  Call upon your power! 
Hades
!” 
She screamed for her father-in-law.  “
HADES!
”

Dezenial smiled sadly.  His
bloodied hand reached up, caressing her face.  “Denzyr . . .”

He coughed, spittle of dark blood
trailing from the corner of his mouth.  Emily watched, horrified, as it
left a trail down the side of his face.  Wildly, she shook her head.

“Kendara.  Denzyr. 
Protect them.  Make sure to . . . ruin them.”  He grinned, blood
saturating his teeth.  Crunching of snow sounded faster than she could
deflect any incoming attack.  Her shoulder was seized.  Emily found
herself shoved aside.

She became manic.

Hissing, clawing, grappling hair
and ripping it free, loud howling from her nemesis rented the air.  It fed
her hysteria.  Apprehended around her waist, arms pinned by an equally
strong band of muscle, Emily was heaved back. 

“Lass, ‘tis our Elder.  He’s
the only one able ta’ save him,” Garreck shouted over her lunatic
screaming. 

She wilted.  Teeth
chattered.  Chin quivering, eyes burning and blurred, she watched,
emotionally shriveling.  “Let me go,” she said in a broken whisper. 
Snatching away, she collapsed by her husband’s side.  Ancient words failed
to penetrate her fog of despair.  Dezenial looked up at the Elder,
frowning.  His eyes darted, landed on Emily, searching.  Resignation
was not difficult to decipher.

“No you don’t!”  She grasped the
arm of the old man.  “You have to save him.  He has to see his
children.  He has to be here. 
Please
.  I just
found
him!  You can’t let him be taken away.  You can’t let the twins not
know their—“

“Keer’dra.  Hold me in your
memory . . . and I will remain in your heart . . . hellcat.”

Emily cupped his dark face with
both hands.  Hot tears splashed him.  “Please, Dez.  Use your
magic—don’t die.  Please,” her voice dropped to a whisper.  “Don’t
leave me.  Don’t leave me.  Please.  I beg of you.  Don’t
leave . . . us.”  She choked with grief.

“Always, I will be . . . with you,
Keer’dra.”  His eyes darted up to the Elder again, a slight nod before
looking to her again.  “My love . . . Keer’dra . . . always yours.”

His eyes closed.

His hand slid from the weapon.

Emily unhinged.  Raw primitive
grief consumed.  Wailing loudly, even hidden banshees cringed. 
Emily’s head fell back, agony rampant in her desolate keening.  Rage and
pain so astute, Hades heard, answering with strange arcs of red lightning. 
Many crossed themselves.  Enemies fled.  Searching for their secret
footpaths back into the safety of Balkore, they nearly dove into various
openings.  And still Emily’s wailing shredded the air.  Arcs of light
intensified.  Fires burned long moments where they landed. 

Dezenial lay dead.

The Elder had yet to cease his
muttering.  With unexpected strength, he grasped her elbow, yanking her to
her feet, forcing her to step away from Dezenial’s body.  She yanked
free. 

“
Never
touch me!” She
reached for her sword, realizing it had been discarded somewhere during her
run. Light drew her attention.  Dezenial’s body was swathed in swirling
mist, an ethereal blue light encompassing him. 

Her breath was cut off. 

Hades was retrieving her
Dezenial
. 

Her mind became languid, without
hope.

He would take him away, never
for her to see again
. 

Desolation swept over her. 
Her heart seized; eyes squeezed shut, blocking the horror of her beloved being
taken where she couldn’t follow. 
Why can’t I die as well?
How
am I supposed to face each day, each and every . . . single
—

Her eyes snapped open. 
One
final look.  Before he truly vanishes
.

Dezenial’s body was gone. 
Even his spilt blood no longer existed.

As if he’d never been
.

“Lady Emily—“

“You could have saved him!” 
She turned away, too disgusted to look at Xyn.

“Lass . . . Emily, ‘tis most sorry
I am,” Broc said, hesitantly stepping towards her.

Tears coursed down her face. 
She stared at him, too bleary-eyed to truly see. She gulped hard, hot tears
saturating her face.  Alone.  Her attention slid from him.  An
Elf gazed up from the frozen ground.  His dead eyes focused on something
unseen except by him.  Near him, a Lumynari would never pillage and
plunder again.  Who had died first? 
Strange thing to want to
know.
  The Lumynari’s mouth remained open, forever howling even in
death.  Apparently, his had been painful.  Or maybe, whatever
confiscated his soul in the afterlife terrified him beyond the evils of
Balkore.  Gurgling, snarling, something fast approached.  It
stampeded towards her.

Broc pulled his sword.

“No!”  Emily’s shout halted
him.  “ ‘Tis my guardian.”  Golden demon launched, stretched, and
contorted into gold lightening.  Emily held out her arm as the band
touched her skin, wrapped tightly around, once again an intricate design of
soft metal upon her flesh.  She clasped it, cradling her guardian,
remembering when Dezenial had placed it upon her.  And harder, she
cried.  Her gaze cast out its net, capturing random visions of
battle-shocked expressions, others weary and bleeding, backslapping from a few
interpreting their ability to remain breathing to be a victory.

And
he
watched her as well.

The bastard who caused this
journey.  Never did he inquire if she minded his continued interference,
and now, he dared look anguished.  Pain over her loss?  Or saddened
it hadn’t been
his
weapon bringing down her beloved?

Pendaran.

He called to her.  As did
several more voices, void of faces.  Did they seek to offer comfort? 
Reassurances?  Answers?  She had none.  They would all be
returning home to someone they cherished.