Authors: Clare Davidson
Tags: #fantasy, #fantasy adventure, #quest fantasy, #ya fantasy, #young fantasy
Kiana handed
him the copper pin, watching as he pressed it into the map just to
the west of the city of Lorwick. She smiled. It
was
a new place.
She led him out onto the
balcony so that she could feel the breeze on her face. It tousled
her neatly brushed hair and playfully rippled through Nidan’s
short-cropped style.
“
You’ll have
to tell me everything about your home and family. What does your
father do? How many brothers and sisters do you have?” She paused
as his gaze dipped to the floor. “I’m sorry. Did I say something
that offended you?”
Nidan shook his head. “No.” His
voice was quiet.
“
You’ve lost
someone?”
He nodded and stared up at the
sky, avoiding Kiana’s concerned gaze.
“
You don’t
have to tell me.”
Nidan sighed. “My sister. To
the last age of Thanatos.”
Kiana suddenly
felt cold. She
had
said something wrong. She would never live through an age of
Thanatos: her birth had ended the last one and her death would
start the next. However, Marcas had told tales of the madness that
gripped the people of Gettryne and of all the senseless deaths that
occurred. Kiana often chose to forget that everyone around her had
lived through the last age of Thanatos and most had lost someone
dear to them.
“
Nidan!”
They both looked up at the
sound of Marcas’ voice.
“
I think
she
likes
you.”
Marcas gave them both a knowing wink.
Kiana felt heat rise in her
cheeks.
Marcas turned away to look back
over the railing.
“
You shouldn’t
pay any attention to Marcas. In a few days he’ll…”
“
Sound the…!”
Marcas’ booming warning died on the air as fire engulfed his
body.
Kiana screamed as Marcas’ face
contorted in pain. The hungry flames devoured his body and charred
his flesh. She tried to run forward, but was stopped by Nidan. He
spun her round so that she could no longer see the horror behind
her. But she could still smell the stench of Marcas’ smouldering
flesh. She could still hear his agonising screams and the shouts of
her Guardians.
The terrible sound of Marcas’
cries began to weaken, falling away from her. Kiana tried to turn
round, but Nidan’s strong grip stopped her. Marcas’ screams faded
to nothingness. There was a loud splash. Marcas was gone. Kiana
tilted her face up to stare at the perfect blue sky and
screamed.
*
Skaric stared at the thick walls
that surrounded the tower, his brow creased and his eyes narrowed.
In the forest behind him, dry twigs snapped under dozens of booted
feet belonging to lightly armoured Wolves. They strained against
their orders, waiting impatiently for the nyxii to provide a way
into the tower. There was so much tension and anticipation in the
air that it made the hairs on Skaric’s arms rise. Any Guardian
visible on the walls had already been dealt with; the rest were
hiding like cowards within the tower. With them was the Wolves’
quarry.
The sound of heavy feet clomping
across the bank to his right drew Skaric’s attention. His skin
crawled as he watched Berend, the war leader, pace up and down.
Fourteen years Skaric’s senior, he was a tall and brutally strong
man, whose tanned, scarred skin and full beard made him look all
the more fierce.
“
She must die,”
Berend said.
Skaric hated him.
They had been searching for
seventeen years—ever since the last period of Thanatos had ended.
Finally, they had found Miale: thanks to the wagging tongue of a
desperate man. He knew that Berend couldn’t afford to let her slip
through his grasp: the shame would be too great.
“
We must avenge
Ysia.” Berend stopped beside Skaric and folded his arms across his
broad chest.
Skaric glanced at the war leader
and then took a half-step away; he had always felt uncomfortable in
Berend’s presence. Hopefully, Berend was too focused to notice the
movement.
To their left, Vali, another
nyxus, extended his hand towards the wall, his fingers tensed as
fire leapt from them towards a Guardian who had dared to survey the
scene. The man’s screams rang in Skaric’s ears. He clenched his
teeth; he had never heard so much death.
“
The walls are
too strong,” Vali said. He turned and stared at Berend with sharp
green eyes. He had a lean pinched face and hooked nose, making him
resemble a hawk.
Skaric could almost feel Berend's
rage growing in seething silence. It was the first time in three
incarnations of Miale that the Wolves had gotten so close to
destroying the Goddess’ body and bringing the time of Thanatos
early.
“
We have to make
these bastards pay!” Berend said. “They deserve to
suffer.”
Do
they?
Skaric turned his attention
back to the tower. His fellow nyxii had sent searing flames
hurtling at the walls, but the strong stone had barely been
scorched. There was only one entrance into the tower, but an iron
portcullis barred the way.
“
Our fire cannot
destroy stone or iron,” Vali said. “There’s no way for our men to
get inside.”
Skaric bit into his lip. The
sudden sharp pain helped to calm him. There was a way. He could see
it. Fire didn’t have to be the only weapon of the nyxii.
“
Nothing
is impenetrable,”
Berend said. “There has to be a way. Miale
must
die.”
Miale must die
.
They have subjected us to a thousand
years of persecution. We must have our revenge.
How many times had Skaric heard those words?
Too many
,
but I have to live by
them
.
He forced his mouth to curl into
the ghost of a smile. “There isn’t a weakness,” he said, his voice
little more than a whisper. “Yet.”
“
Didn’t you hear
me?” Vali said. “Our fire cannot penetrate the walls.”
Skaric rolled his eyes. The true joy of nyxii magic was that
it had no limits other than the will of the caster; his mentor,
Jakob, had taught him that. There was no
god
to impose rules
upon the nyxii. He glanced down at the ground. All the grass in a
circle around him had withered and was blanched of colour. A quick
glance over his shoulder told him that the closest trees had also
shriveled and died; their leaves, crumpled and brown, littered the
ground.
I did that.
He looked up and down the bank. Wherever
a nyxus stood, there was death. Bracing himself, he whispered,
“There is a way to weaken their walls.”
He shivered as Berend's large,
powerful hand curled around his shoulder. Vali opened his mouth to
say something but was silenced with a look.
“
What do you
need?” The war leader’s voice was teetering on the edge of
excitement.
Skaric paused before replying. His
plan would cause the deaths of Wolves, including himself. But the
rest of their forces would be able to surge into the tower and
flush out their quarry.
“
Well?"
He
squirmed under Berend’s angry stare.
Why did I say anything?
“
Think of how proud it would make your father if
your
actions allowed us to capture Miale.
You
would be
responsible for our victory.”
Skaric balled his hands into
fists. He was a Wolf. Cowardice wasn’t an option. Nor was
compassion. He shrugged away from Berend’s grasp and looked him in
the eyes. “Sacrifices.” He was certain that the war leader would
comply.
Berend grinned grimly. He wheeled
away from Skaric and cleared his throat, addressing all the Wolves
within earshot in a loud, booming voice. “All those willing to lay
down their lives for the glory of Ysia, stand forward!”
Skaric fixed his gaze on the
tower. He didn’t want to know how many Wolves were happy to place
victory above themselves and allow him to take their lives. He
didn’t want to see their faces.
“
Your sacrifices
await,” Berend said as he returned to stand beside Skaric. Then in
a more dangerous tone he whispered, “Make sure this
works.”
Skaric nodded. “You’d best stand
back.” He didn’t allow himself to look at Berend.
Skaric stepped forward onto
healthy green grass and waited for a count of ten, long enough for
Berend to get out of the range of his magic. He began to
concentrate, narrowing his eyes so that he could focus on the
portcullis: their only way in.
He slowly exhaled and then began
to pull power from the earth. Energy flowed into him, warming from
within. It wasn’t enough, but he had known it wouldn’t be. Skaric
gritted his teeth and reached out with his mind, grabbing energy
from the men behind him, from the willing sacrifices.
He
could feel their life energy throbbing within him—like a dozen
hearts beating beside his own. But faster. More desperate. He heard
them all scream—sounds of terror that he tried to block out. It was
too late to save them. They had
wanted
to die.
Power sizzled beneath Skaric’s
skin, so intense that he felt his head would burst. He pushed it
all towards his hands, readying himself to release it. He just
needed a little more. Behind him, the screams died out as the body
of each sacrificial Wolf thudded to the ground.
Skaric waited. He waited until he
could no longer draw any more power, waited until he couldn’t bear
the heat beneath his skin. Then, with a cry, he thrust his left
hand towards the tower. Pure, deadly, devastating energy darted
from his hand, stronger than a tumultuous wind. As it struck, the
portcullis shattered into hundreds of lethal pieces that went
flying in all directions.
Skaric heard the Wolves cheer, but
it was distant, as though he was underwater. For all Berend’s
strength and physical might, he couldn’t match the power that
Skaric had just wielded. Not ever.
Unbearable pain coursed beneath
Skaric’s skin. The sickening stench of smouldering flesh stung his
nostrils. His flesh. Pain like he had never known devoured him from
within. At the edge of his vision fire leapt hungrily. The price
for his arrogance. His death didn’t matter. He was a hero. His name
would be remembered amongst the Wolves.
The horror of watching Jakob die
flooded into Skaric’s mind. He heard his mentor's manic laughter,
which had quickly turned to tortured screams of despair.
Fear gripped Skaric. It paralysed
him. He could hear the rush of water in his ears. The moat. Skaric
staggered towards the welcome darkness of the water. He fell, but
the icy shock did nothing to quell the fire.
It’s too late. I’ve destroyed
myself! For what?
If he could have screamed he
would. He was going to die and he was afraid. The water engulfed
Skaric, wrapping him in its deadly embrace as it swept him
away.
*
“
Switch
clothes.”
Kiana blinked at Finn. It was such
a simple order but she couldn’t make her arms move to obey him.
“
Now!”
Slowly, Kiana turned to look at
her handmaid. Erynn’s eyes were red and puffy, her face smudged
with dirt from the tunnel and her blonde hair dishevelled. The
girl’s shoulders shook as she pulled the plain brown surcoat over
her head and held it out to Kiana. Like Kiana, she also wore an
undyed woollen underdress that preserved modesty. Kiana stared at
the surcoat and then at Erynn. Her lower lip trembled and a lump
formed in her throat that threatened to choke her.
“
Now, Kiana!”
Finn kept glancing towards Ciall, who was standing at the tunnel
entrance.
Sunlight filtered in, providing
enough light to see by deeper in the tunnel. Kiana could hear the
sounds of fighting in the distance. Swords clanged against each
other, feet thundered over wood and men screamed. She clamped her
hands over her ears and sank down so that she was crouching.
Finn was shouting at her. Kiana
shook her head and squeezed her eyes tightly shut. She wouldn’t
listen. How could he ask her to send Erynn out to die?
A pair of hands closed over hers
and pulled them away from her ears.
“
Kiana.”
Kiana couldn’t immediately put a
name to the gentle voice. Slowly, she opened her eyes. Nidan was
crouching in front of her, eyes alert, body tense, but there was a
kindness in his face.
“
We don’t have
time to think,” he said. “You need to do as Finn says.”
“
But…”
“
Don’t think.” He was right. “You
have
to
live.”
Right again. She stood and pulled her surcoat off with numb
fingers. Erynn helped her into the rough wool garment. It irritated
the nape of her neck.
It doesn’t
matter!
She watched as Erynn
pulled on the golden surcoat. Kiana had always wondered why she and
Erynn looked so alike. Now it was clear: Erynn was the perfect
decoy. Kiana shivered violently. Her stomach lurched. She turned
away and threw up. Once she had recovered, Nidan offered her a
scrap of cloth. She cleaned her mouth and then managed to force a
grateful smile to her lips.
“
We split into
two groups,” Finn said. “Bran and Coran will take Erynn.” He looked
at Nidan. “You’re with me and Ciall.”