The Shadow Games: The Chronicles of Arianthem VI (27 page)

Skye stiffened and Dallan put her arm around her shoulder.

“They will find you, Skye. You cannot hide from them. And I cannot stay to help you,” Ingrid said, and there was almost a tone of regret in her voice, although it was likely the regret of losing her prize and not genuine sympathy.

“Very well,” Ingrid said, “you have made your decision.”

And with that, the sorceress stepped through the portal and disappeared. Almost simultaneously, the first Reaper Shard came through the other side. Skye could feel Syn shake and grabbed her arm to get her to remain still.

The monstrosity was twelve feet high, wraith-like, black wispy smoke and an endless gullet of fangs. The creature lived half in the Underworld and half in the mortal realm and smelled of death and decay. It bled acid and breathed fire, and everything about it inflicted torturous pain. And it craved magic above all else, desiring to feed upon whatever creature possessed it.

“It knows I’m here,” Skye whispered despondently.

And it did indeed appear the monster knew where they were, for although it drifted to-and-fro across the garden, it was making its way unerringly toward them. A second Reaper Shard popped from the portal and quickly caught up with the first. And when the third joined the pack, they drifted across the garden in a coordinated manner that covered all ground while heading straight toward them.

“What are we going to do?” Rika whispered.

Dallan’s throat was dry. Their swords were too far away, and even if they were able to reach them, it was unlikely they would do any good as they were not enchanted. And Skye’s gifts were not the enchanting kind.

“Wait a minute,” Dallan whispered as another shriek split the air, one designed to flush them out. The wraiths were getting very close, close enough that their foul breath wafted toward the small group. Dallan turned to Skye to whisper in her ear.

“Isleif sent you a message. He made me memorize a word to give you.”

Skye eyed the approaching Shards. They were almost upon them, and they couldn’t even flee because they were penned in.

“What word?” Skye asked desperately.

“Ephemeral.”

And as Dallan breathed the word into Skye’s ear, it was Isleif’s voice she heard and in an instant she knew what to do. Rika braced herself as the fangs of the nearest Reaper loomed over her, but Skye grabbed her arm and pulled them all together so she was again touching everyone. And as the rapacious jaws came down to remove Rika’s head, Skye said the word, although in an ancient tongue that pre-dated the elves themselves.

And the jaws passed right through Rika. In fact, as the Reaper Shards hovered in front of them they seemed confused, as if their prey had suddenly disappeared even though the five were still right there. And Rika reached forward in disbelief, and passed her hand right through the Reaper Shard. It was then she noticed that the Shard was now transparent like her, as was everything else in the world. Even the shrieks of the Reapers, so horrifically loud, now seemed very far away.

Syn slowly stood upright, having cringed away from the attack. Even Torsten straightened himself, having flung his arms up as a shield. Skye had a huge smile on her face. She playfully waved her hand through the Reaper.

“They can’t touch or hear us,” she said.

“Skye,” Dallan said in disbelief. “What did you do?”

“We are ephemeral,” she said, looking about her. “It is the other half of the invisibility spell.”

Skye buckled a little, and Dallan grasped her arm to steady her.

“I don’t know how long I can sustain this,” Skye said. “I’ve never done this and it’s very hard.”

“Then let’s get out of here,” Rika said, and started heading toward the door.

“We don’t need it,” Skye said, grabbing her arm. “Let’s go here.”

She pulled Rika right through the stone wall of the garden, and Dallan, Syn, and Torsten were on their heels. The estate was empty, the farm hands and guards having long since fled from the sounds of chaos in the garden. The five began sprinting across the fields and Dallan looked behind them.

“Uh oh,” she said.

The Reaper Shards came over the wall first, but they were followed by dozens of Horde Shards that clambered over behind them. Horde Shards were the expendable foot soldiers of the Hyr’rok’kin army, dumb, vicious, killing machines. Then the wall itself came down as an enormous monstrosity kicked through it with one foot. The Marrow Shard was taller than the second story of the mansion, and he was followed by yet more Horde Shards.

“How did that thing get through that portal?” Rika asked.

“We’ve got to get as far away as possible!” Skye exclaimed. “Before I lose the spell!”

But the Hyr’rok’kin didn’t seem to be following them, rather were deviating off to the west. Torsten realized where they were going.

“Wait!” Torsten said, and Skye skidded to a halt.

“What?”

“There are two dozen of our troops not far from here. Aeric, Flynt, they all came for you.”

“And Jorden,” Syn said in despair.

Dallan groaned in frustration. She had forgotten about the others. And there was no question what Skye was going to do.

“We leave none behind,” she said to Torsten fiercely, and he nodded his agreement.

“Come on!” she exclaimed, making a hard right turn from their original path and heading west into the forest. They would have been crashing through the trees, but instead, were able to run right through them. Dallan could barely keep up with Skye and Torsten, so swift were the Tavinter, and Syn’s Tavinter heritage seemed to be making an appearance as the runner thief outpaced all but Skye.

Fortunately or unfortunately, the Tavinter were very close, having heard the battle and crept stealthily towards it to see if they could be of assistance. It was fortunate, for had they not been so close, Torsten was not certain they would have made it to them before the Hyr’rok’kin. Unfortunate, for the Hyr’rok’kin were right behind them, a fact he deduced without turning around by the grim expressions of his comrades as they readied themselves for a slaughter.

“What are you going to do?” Torsten asked between breaths, panting as he ran.

Skye seemed very sure and very focused. “I just need to get a little closer,” she said, “I just have to beat the Hyr’rok’kin.”

It did not look like that was going to happen as the fastest of the monstrosities, the four-legged hell hounds, galloped past Rika and overtook Dallan. They passed Torsten, then drew even with Syn, and almost even with Skye who ran invisibly next to them. But with a burst of speed, Skye outpaced them, getting ahead and close enough to the Tavinter she could see the beads of sweat on their foreheads. She could see the resignation in Jorden’s blue-green eyes as she drew her sword and took an attack stance. She could see Aeric’s handsome features tighten with grim anticipation and Flynt’s grizzled countenance acquiesce to his fate as he raised his bow. She could see all her friends’ and comrades facing certain death while they couldn’t see her at all.

Then, with an intuition that she had been born with, the power that had flowed through her mother’s veins like fire, the skill and magic that had come from Arianthem’s greatest wizard, she slammed her hands together, creating a shock wave of magic that rippled outward like a disruption in the fabric of the world. And the shockwave passed over the entire band of Tavinter scouts just as the Hyr’rok’kin were upon them, and the band completely disappeared.

Aeric stood, stunned, looking at the ground through his now transparent hands. Flynt ducked as a hell hound came leaping at him, but where it should have hit him in the chest, it passed right through him. Jorden had braced herself for impact with one of the charging beasts, but instead stumbled forward when no collision occurred.

“Skye!” Aeric cried in amazement, recognizing his friend and leader even in their strange, transitory condition. “How did you do this?”

“There’s no time to explain,” Skye said breathlessly, and indeed there was not, for the confused Hyr’rok’kin had skid to a halt, the Marrow Shard could be heard tramping through the forest, and the Reaper Shards hovered in malign frustration, flitting about, and screaming as they had now been twice denied. Even now they were regrouping.

“They can’t see or hear us, but I cannot maintain this spell for very long. We must run!”

And the Tavinter, used to obeying their leader without question, began sprinting after her as she made a hard turn to the south away from the horde. But Aeric knew something was wrong, for Skye was beginning to slow and he had never kept pace with her once since they had been children.

“I’m getting tired,” Skye said ruefully, breathing hard. “This spell is difficult.”

It wasn’t difficult, Aeric thought, it was impossible. He had never heard of any such a spell on even one person, let alone an entire band of almost thirty people. He put an arm beneath Skye’s and Flynt took the other, and the two supported her while still jogging jerkily along. This was not effective, for all of the Tavinter slowed for their leader.

“Keep running!” Skye cried in frustration. She could feel the spell slipping, and off in the distance, she could hear the Reaper Shards scream in pleasure as they got the slightest hint of her position. The re-emergence of the thundering of the herd could be heard as the Hyr’rok’kin set chase.

“Damn it,” Skye said in frustration.

“Here,” Rika said, having finally caught the swift-footed Tavinter. “This is where I come in.”

She scooped Skye up with so little effort she might as well have weighed nothing. And although she could hardly keep pace with the fleet Tavinter when they were unencumbered, they could not have dreamed of keeping her pace bearing Skye, for the weight hardly slowed her at all. And Skye was better able to maintain the spell for now she did not expend energy running.

“Go that way,” Skye said, again changing their direction to throw off the Hyr’rok’kin, but then a strange look passed over her features and she changed her mind. “No, no, over there.”

Rika obeyed, although it seemed poor strategy to run up a hill when the Hyr’rok’kin were once again on their heels. But she held Skye tightly, her powerful thigh muscles flexed, her calves propelled her upward, and Dallan was right behind her pushing with all her might. Jorden and Syn ran side-by-side, and the Tavinter sprinted as one, all charging up the hill.

Skye was in agony. The spell had completely drained her. “I can’t hold it any longer,” Skye said, “just get to the top of the hill.”

Rika wasn’t certain what good that was going to do. Skye went limp in her arms, and as she did, the world became solid once more and the Hyr’rok’kin screamed as their prey reappeared. They began barreling up the hill and Rika glanced over her shoulder.

“Just keep moving!” Dallan yelled, pushing Rika forward.

And they did, legs churning in a hopeless task, driving upward for no reason other than Skye had told them to, heading toward a destination that seemed within reach but futile. They could now smell the blood and decay and wet leather that marked the Horde Shards, and hear the heavy tramping of their feet. The earth shook, the sky was rent with screams, the snapping of jaws, and the gnashing of teeth, and Rika thought that all was surely lost.

Except at the top of the hill stood a tiny, wizened elvish woman. One dressed in green robes embroidered with arcane symbols older than time. And she stood steadfast, her emerald eyes watching the approaching storm with utter calm. And she was joined by another elf, one younger, taller, doe-eyed, who despite her gentle appearance gazed at the mass of monsters without fear, for she had been through the Veil and to the Gates of the Underworld, and she had seen this before. And when the tiny, ancient elven matriarch raised her staff, a thousand wood elves appeared on the crest of the hill, all armed with weapons that glowed with green light, enchanted by the most powerful practitioner of natural magic in all of Arianthem.

Rika saw the wood elves draw their bows, and as she sprinted past them and collapsed with Skye still in her arms, she wanted to cry. The Tavinter all crossed the line together, unwilling to leave their leader behind, and Torsten and Syn were the very last, pulling Jorden by the hand.

“Fire,” Y’arren said.

Idonea appeared right next to Talan and immediately went to her knees.

“What has happened?” she said, unable to grasp the sight of her powerful mother in such a condition.

“All went as planned,” Talan said, “until Volva slipped these around my wrists.”

Idonea lifted her mother’s wrists to examine the glowing restraints. “What are these?”

“A gift from Hel,” Talan said. “Volva said she thought they were made from resin from the Tree of Life.”

Idonea ran her fingers over the glowing strands. “No,” she said, “these are not from the Tree of Life. They have something of that in them, but it has been perverted. And something else that is specifically deadly to dragonkind.”

“Can you break them?”

“I think that I can,” Idonea said. Although deep in concentration, she smiled a little.

“What?” Talan asked, her eyes caressing the face of her beautiful daughter.

“For years I was so angry with you that I was not a dragon like Drakar, that I was born of you and a human male. But if I were a dragon, I would not be able to break these bonds.”

“You have always been perfect in my sight.”

Idonea raised an eyebrow.

“Incorrigible,” Talan admitted, “but perfect nonetheless.”

“I wonder where I got that from,” Idonea murmured. “Now hush so I can get these abominations off of you.”

Idonea put both her hands on the slender manacles, she closed her eyes, running her fingers over the fetters, feeling for a weakness, a break in the grain, an imperfection in the fibers of the dark magic that had been woven together to create the restraints. And she found it, the slightest of flaws, the tiny crevice where she could insert a sliver of light magic, disrupt the resonance with minor vibration, create just enough dissonance to...

The manacles shattered and Talan felt power surge through her as her dark magic returned.