Azra of the Burning Sands (Genesis Project) (17 page)

VOLUME IV:

‘Those who work in the shadows, who use selfish evil people as their minions, are foolish, for the selfish and the evil can always be counted to turn on you, when they see no more use in you...’

-Vareez Starsinger, a Verin Warrior in the Loute Empire, teaching young Verin at the Academy on Loute

ZHARIN FORTRESS – BAZRA DESERT – HALLI

T
he Raiders had had enough. It was apparent to Shakla that he had worn out his welcome. He stood in a stony room of the Zharin fortress, his scaly powerful hand wrapped around the throat of one of his former allies. The man was clawing desperately at Shakla’s arm, his struggles getting weaker and weaker.

Shakla looked around the small room he was in. There was only one door and a window. He had been prowling the hallways of the fortress while the Raiders tried to hunt him down. He felt no threat from these people, though he did feel anger at their betrayal.

The man stopped moving altogether. Shakla released his grasp and let him fall to the ground. He sensed that the man’s life had been extinguished. He had grown bored with his hunt. For a full day the Raiders had tried to hunt him down. For a day he had evaded them, catching them off guard and ambushing the stragglers.

He’d killed at least a dozen, maybe more, he couldn’t recall. His mind was aflame with his more primal instincts. Everything else was a dull ache at the back of his mind, pecking at his awareness.

He placed a hand against the wall, breathing in deeply. His tongue flicked out, testing the air, the scent of the dead man filled him with a longing to continue his hunt.

He stepped out into the hallway, and took another breath. He heard noise to his right. He was near the top of the fortress, far away from the main hall. He didn’t remember coming this way. His instincts had taken over after his encounter with the spectre of Azra. After he had scattered the Raiders, he had begun to hunt them.

He had lost hold of his intelligence.

He fought to bring it back. Shakla tried to focus on the dull ache near the back of his mind.

Another sound caused his focus to waver.

He hunched over and started down the hallway, moving swiftly and silently. There was a Raider. His back was turned to him, and he was walking slowly down the hallway. Further down the way, more Raiders were checking doors. There was a staircase to his left. He heard more sounds from down the stairs.

Shakla stopped his prowl and reversed his direction. Another group was coming up the stairs. He went back to the room where he had killed the lone Raider. Once inside, he closed the door silently, and looked around again. He went to the window and peered outside.

It was night time in the desert. A half-moon hung in the sky, just over the horizon. He climbed out the window, using his clawed hands to force handholds into the masonry of the tower. He was high above the ground, on the outside of the central tower of the fortress. Beneath him, a few smaller towers jutted out from the wall that surrounded the fortress.

Shakla climbed slowly down the tower. Above him he heard shouting as the body of the man he killed was found. Someone peered out of the window and looked down. Shakla stopped moving and clung to the side of the tower, hoping the dark would make him hard to see.

He saw the man look right at him and duck back in. He wasn’t sure if he was seen or not, but he was growing tired after a day of hunting. He needed to get out of the fortress. He had work to do yet.

Scurrying down the tower, he got half way down when an arrow smacked off the stone next to him. Turning his head, he saw an archer leaning out of a window in one of the smaller towers on the wall, pulling back on another arrow.

Shakla crawled sideways to another nearby window, as another arrow smacked against the wall, narrowly avoiding him. As he grew close, he heard voices waft out from the window. He fought his hunter instinct and grabbed hold of his intelligence once more. Another arrow flew towards him; he flicked one of his fingers, and a gust of wind blew it off course. He looked down, he was still high up, but he was running out of options. Turning himself around, and feeling the blood rush to his head, he began to bound down the side of the tower, slamming his claws into the stone bricks and tearing a path downward.

Arrows whistled around him as he tore his way down the tower speedily. Below him the tower was widening as he approached his base. It was still in the centre of the fortress, and the courtyard was surrounded by walls. He coiled himself tightly, and leapt off the wall. As he fell towards the sand, a furious up-draft of air whipped up around him and slowed his descent. He thudded to the ground in a cloud of sand.

There were a few scattered Raiders in the courtyard with him, but they were confused by the sudden flurry of sand and wind. Ignoring them, Shakla ran across the courtyard towards a building the Raiders used as a stable. He ducked inside and found rows of horses in corrals. Near the end, waiting for him, was his black skinned reptile mount – the same one he had ridden when he attacked Jarridon. It let out a hiss as he grabbed the rope it was tied up with. He raised the rope up and held it between his hands. With a deft strike of his jaws and teeth, he bit through the rope.

He got atop his mount and they bounded out of the stables. Outside, the sand had settled, and Raiders were gathering in the courtyard. Many had bows drawn and upon seeing him, were pulling back to fire.

Shakla and his mount surged forward. The archers let fly their arrows. Sweeping his arms to sides, a wall of wind blew most of the arrows off course, all but one. The archer who was wise to Shakla’s tricks, had been waiting until after he had used his Mahgic, and then let his arrow fly.

Shakla saw it coming, and brought his arms back to try to bat it aside once more, but was too slow. The shaft buried itself in his shoulder. The Sorcerer let out a roar, and grimaced. His mount was still moving towards the gate to fortress, but the door was shut.

Fighting back his animal instincts once more, Shakla focused a blast of wind and shot it at the gate. The wooden doors, ancient and dry, blew apart in a torrent of splinters and sand.

Shakla and his mount rushed off into the desert. Arrows from the wall thudded into the sand next to him, but no more found their mark. Shakla looked down at his chest and saw his dark blood causing his scales to glisten in the moonlight. He reached up and felt the wound gingerly, letting out a strained hiss as he did.

The long, quick, strides of his lizard took them swiftly away from the fortress, but each step caused a fresh flash of pain.

Shakla’s beast marched on in darkness for a long time, and Shakla worked at erasing their tracks with a gentle wind. Wanting desperately to rest, he found an outcrop of rocks and went towards them. He found a cave, and found shelter inside.

Lying on the ground, he closed his eyes and slipped into sleep, his mount watching the door.

‘Some say my enemy’s enemy is my friend... that is short-sighted at best. Know your enemy, and know his friends, I say...’

-From the teachings of Valt

ZHARIN FORTRESS – BAZRA DESERT – HALLI

A
mahl, the current leader of the Raiders, stood in the arch of the shattered gate leading to the fortress, gazing out with his crisp, blue, eyes.

Shakla had escaped, and at a terrible cost.

‘Amahl, the envoy returns,’ said a figure behind him, in the courtyard.

Amahl turned around, his sand coloured robes fluttering with his movement. He lowered his face covering, and looked at two figures in the courtyard. One of them was one of his Raider companions, and the other was an old woman in blue robes, holding a staff.

‘Amahl of the Zharin, I am Ahaki of the Mahgic council. I came as quickly as I could,’ the woman said.

‘You honour me by learning the name of me and my people... it is more than could be said for the devil that escaped. I only wish you could have come sooner.’

‘We came as swiftly as we could. It was fortunate this fortress had its own archway.’

‘It is a left over relic of the glory days of this place... and one I chose to keep secret from the Sorcerer, for which we are all fortunate.’

Ahaki frowned, asking, ‘What do you mean?’

Amahl sighed, ‘The sorcerer, Shakla, used some form of Mahgic on the Archway of Jarridon, and used it to steal a girl as they travelled through it. I have never seen such manner of Mahgics. If he could do that to a Archway that he was not even near, then what could he have done with access to his own?'

'How did you keep it hidden from him? Surely he would have detected it's presence,' Ahaki said.

Amhal smiled at that, 'Another secret of this Fortress. It has many such secrets, and few know about them all.'

Ahaki regarded him carefully and changed the subject, 'You said he stole a girl from the Archway... would that have been Princesses Kialandria?'

'Yes, the girl was a Princess of the Kingdom of Minna. Shakla wanted to use her to get a local Baron – whom we’ve never had a quarrel with – to do his dirty work. When he then let her escape – after having caused the death of some of our number – we grew... upset.’

Ahaki walked towards the shattered gateway, and Amahl followed her.

‘And the Sorcerer took some exception to this?’ Ahaki sighed.

‘He treated my kin like slaves!’ Amahl snapped, his face twisted in disgust. ‘We are
many
things, but we are
free.
We are no one’s slaves! When he learned of our opinion, he grew angry.’

Amahl and Ahaki came to a stop outside the fortress, and looked out across the sand. There were no signs of tracks.

‘And then?’ Ahaki prompted.

‘And then we decided to be rid of him. He had pushed us too far. We hunted him through the fortress – though I may better say
he
hunted us. I would love nothing more than to hunt him down, but,’ Amahl gestured to the sand, ‘tracking him would be beyond our means.’

Ahaki closed her eyes and was quiet. She raised an arm and opened it, palm outward. After a moment, Amahl watched as glowing spots began to form on the sand, standing out in the darkness. They resolved themselves into prints.

Ahaki opened her eyes and looked at Amahl with a grin. ‘There is more than one way to catch a snake.’

Amahl nodded. ‘So there is. I’ll gather my men and we can go after him immediately.’

He turned to go back into the fortress, but Ahaki grabbed his arm. He looked at her irritably, and growled, ‘What is the meaning of
this?’

‘The Zharin have never turned to the Mahgic council for help. You’ve never turned to anyone for help. Why now?’

‘This devil is dangerous. He wields powers the likes of which this world has not seen yet. He speaks of places and people we have never known. He plans and plots like a Warlord, but moves as an assassin. He is here for a purpose, and the whole world will suffer if he is not stopped.’

‘I see.’ Ahaki thought for a moment, then said, ‘As much as I’m sure this will be unpleasant too you, we stand more to gain from him by taking him alive. Let me capture him, and I will take him back to the Mahgic council for answers.’

‘He is
ours,’
Amahl said coldly.

Ahaki looked at him carefully, and offered, ‘When we are done with him, you can have him back.’

Amahl nodded, but warned, ‘See that you do not back out of your promise. We have more secrets than just a long forgotten Archway. We are the children of the Zhakim! The Zharin have a birthright of power. Now... can I gather my men?’

‘No need Amahl, I brought my own.’ With that, Ahaki raised her hand again, and fifteen white robed figures – their faces covered, with only their eyes visible – materialized out of the air.

Amahl just nodded, covered his face, and started along the path of glowing steps.

Ahaki and her band fell in behind him.

*

BAZRA DESERT – HALLI

A muddled dream, full of violence and instinct, was woken by a loud shuddering growl.

Shakla opened his eyes and looked towards the sound. His mount was crouched, growling at the mouth of the cave. The sun was rising, and light was shining in through the door. Shakla crawled forward, unable to stand due to the cramped confines of the cave. He crawled towards the entrance, and stopped just short of the shaft of light. He looked outside, tasting the air with his tongue as he did.

There were new scents on the air, and a figure standing in the harsh sunlight, wearing a blue robe and holding a staff. The figure was a human woman. She was clearly quite old. Something in the back of Shakla’s mind told him she was not alone, but he would not wait for his fate like some trapped animal.

Crawling out into the light, Shakla stood up to his fullest height. His mount squeezed out behind him, and stood to his side, still crouched low.

‘Woman, who are you?’ Shakla called out.

‘I am Ahaki Dahn, a member of the Mahgic council of the world of Antia. The better question, Sorcerer, is who are
you?’

Shakla smiled, bearing his row of teeth. ‘I am Ssshakla, ssservant of Massster Valt.’ Ahaki’s face betrayed her surprise. ‘Ahhh, I ssssee you have heard of him.’

‘There isn’t a Mahgic user alive who has not heard of
him.
The world of Antia is neutral in your war. Be gone with you and your wicked master.’

Shakla tilted his head and tasted the air again, there were others about.

‘No. I ssshall not go ssso eassily. Why not call your friendsss to help ssstop me?’

Shakla hissed and raised his good arm. Ahaki waved her arm and all around him, figures materialized seemingly out of thin air. Shakla stiffened as he saw the leader of the Raiders standing next to Ahaki.

‘Peasssent, couldn’t finisssh me yourssself?’ Shakla snarled.

‘Amahl called me here because he recognized your danger,’ Ahaki said.

‘This old crow of a woman anssswers
for
you, peasssent? You could have been a King of thisss world when Massster Valt came in his glory.’

Amahl glared at Shakla, and then looked to Ahaki. ‘Do with him as you please, but know this, he is dangerous, and if we see him walk free, we will blame your council.’

Ahaki nodded. Amahl turned and left, leaving Shakla facing off against Ahaki and her allies.

He scanned the group. There seemed to be fifteen figures around, each of them wearing white robes and face coverings that left only their eyes visible. They each held themselves in different poses, ready to strike. Shakla could feel the build up of Mahgical energy in the air. He let out a hiss as he assessed his situation. In a fight, he was not confident in his chances, not in his injured state.

‘I sssurrender,’ he said.

The white-clad figures seemed to ripple with hesitation and confusion.

Ahaki didn't flinch.

‘Bind him,’ she snapped.

With direction now given, the white figures whipped their arms straight out from their sides, hands closed in fists. A web of light formed, linking from their fists and criss-crossing across the half circle. With a surge of intensity, the web leapt from the figures and snapped towards Shakla. It wrapped around him and his mount, and he felt his connection to his Mahgic dim. His world became fuzzy, and he slipped from consciousness.