Echoes of a Shattered Age (32 page)

“Is that not a good thing?” Siti asked.

“Not at all,” Iel answered. “This means that he is controlling everything from his fortress and can most likely see everything from a more advantageous point of view. He rubbed a hand over his smooth head. “I had thought that he would want to have a direct hand in taking Takashaniel, but he must have faith in his army.”

“Is he right to have such confidence?” Siti asked.

Iel gave her a confirming nod and looked back fields shrouded in darkness. “This also means that he may be concentrating some of his attention on the humans. It is likely that they won’t arrive as soon as I had hoped.”

Siti put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Do not worry, Master Guardian. They will arrive in time to help.” A mighty roar split the darkness.

“Grimhammer has met battle,” Iel said.

“As soon shall we all,” Siti responded.

* * *

The five warriors rode as fast as their horses could take them. It had been half a day before the horses had finally caught up to them, and they had to make a few stops to allow Akemi to rest. The demonic taint was growing stronger, and it was an effort for her to simply stay in the saddle. On they rode, through copses and open fields, across plains scattered with hills and through heavily wooded paths, blazing a trail to Takashaniel.

“We’re not far,” the ninja yelled to her companions. “Perhaps a few hours, but not much more.”

The others rode in silence, each contemplating the battle to come and what they might expect.

“I see no trace of the tower,” Kenjiro finally said. “I remember it stretching toward the heavens, but I see nothing ahead.”

“I can feel it, brother,” Akemi said. “Our journey is near its end.”

* * *

Grit swung his spiked club left to right, up and down felling any Kalistyi that ventured too close. The brunts, true to their name, had taken the first blows early on, slamming head-on into the wall of evil. Despite the terrible odds, the sturdy band mowed through the Kalistyi forces, hacking and slashing every shadow demon in their path. What their magical bodies lacked in actual strength, they made up for with unlimited endurance. And endurance they needed, for every shadow demon that was defeated, two materialized to replace it.

“This fight not have an end soon,” a fighter closest to Grit said. Dok, his name was, and he was highly regarded in their ranks. Grit made a noncommittal sound, noticing a gash in Dok’s arm dealt by the arm-blade of a Kalistyi. What looked like liquid light seeped from the injured arm, and he knew that his part in the fight was nearing its end.

“Me magic is failing, Leader Grit,” Dok growled. Despite his diminishing magical essence, he fought beside his beloved leader until finally, in a cloud of pale blue light, he diminished and was no more.

* * *

Back at the cave in the brunt city of Brickdawn, Dok’s eyes popped open and he gasped from the shock. The others were still standing, silent, eyes closed with their full awareness in the battle miles away. Defeated and angry, he stomped to the mouth of the cave where the three sentinels stood guard over their helpless physical bodies.

“First one back, eh?” one of the guards chuckled. Dok cast him an even look and the chuckling faded.

“Damned lucky blow,” he growled. “If it was me
really
there, I would still be in the fight!”

They turned to the sound of two more of their kin waking with an angry fire in their eyes. One particularly angry fellow stomped and spat, shaking his fist in the air.

“Danged things er gave me a cheap shot. I ain’t done yet!”

* * *

The centaurs charged behind the Rizanti into battle, allowing the sleek warriors to cut a path into the demon forces before they branched into their own formation. Grimhammer was impressed by the efficiency in which the Rizanti fought. They ran in a perfect diamond formation, the leader in front cutting a trail while the others cut at the sides, sending fiend after fiend back to the dark world.

Before they were deep into the horde, Grimhammer pulled his clan up short. He looked in the distance to see the Rizanti, still blazing a trail farther into the demon forces. It was a suicidal tactic, but he knew they would accomplish their goal. No living warrior would dare such an advancement, but the Rizanti existed only for battle and would cut a path straight into the heart of the army and fight till the magic sustaining them dissipated.

The centaurs made their stand and bashed demon after demon, sending dozens of the abysmal creatures back to their world. Beside Grimhammer, the youngest of the centaur clan bashed a Tasarien in the head with his club and sent it flying away. As soon as it hit the ground, he was on top of it, pounding the big demon with his hooves until it finally fell apart and faded back to the abyss.

A ripclaw came behind him and snapped at his back with a spiked pincer. The young centaur was faster. With a mighty leap, he jumped over the dissipating Tasarien and once landed, spun to face the pursuing ripclaw.

Grimhammer swung his mighty warhammer and bashed a Tasarien in the side of the head. The demon was launched away and faded into mist before it hit the ground. A smaller, silver demon worked fast against one of the other centaurs, catching it off balance, but with one powerful swing of his weapon, Grimhammer blasted the thing apart. With a nod of thanks, his companion was away to seek his next adversary.

The Rizanti continued their advance, cutting down every demon in reach. Once they were fully immersed in the demonic horde, they stopped. As one, they turned outward into a defensive formation and continued to cut their enemies down.

* * *

Hooves pounded the ground as the horses sped across the land. Shinobu was amazed at the changes to his beloved homeland. As a strider, he had traveled the world and seen many places. Never in all the years he lived in Japan had he seen so much landmass on the island, and especially so many untouched places.
Maybe the world
is
changing,
he thought.

In its descent toward the western mountains, the sun cast a fiery orange light upon the undersides of the clouds. The day was calm and serene despite the evil they raced to confront.

“Time passes faster than our progress,” Kenjiro said.

Akemi gave him a sidelong glance. “It seems so, but we have no choice but to follow this path. Hold faith in the guardian. He would not lead us wrong.”

“Especially when it’s
his
tower at stake,” Kita added. He glanced at the setting sun. “Looks like we will be fighting in the dark. Unless any of you have night vision, this is gonna be tougher without light.”

Akemi responded with a strained smile. “Then your training is not yet complete.” Kita could only guess what the ninja was referring to with that comment.

The five companions rode in silence for a few more hours before slowing to a walk to allow their exhausted horses to rest. The brave animals’ heads hung low and their nostrils flared as they caught their breath. Once they cooled down, the companions dismounted and shared the water from the ration that Iel had given them. Despite the animals’ larger size, the water did its work, and after only a few deep gulps of the wondrous liquid, the horses were energized.

“We must let them rest a bit longer,” Kenyatta said. “The water does satisfy them and give them energy, but we’ve driven them hard.”

Akemi shook her head as he spoke. “You would be correct if this was a magical potion,” she replied. “But this is natural water from Takashaniel. The horses will be good to ride in a few minutes.”

Kita looked into the distance in the direction of the tower. “And how long will our ride last once we continue in a few minutes?”

“There is no exact distance that I can give you,” Akemi replied. “Only that it will not be much longer.” She saw Shinobu’s disbelieving smile from the corner of her eye. “If the strider has a better path for us to follow, then let him speak it now.”

“Nothing better,” he replied flatly. “Faith is not one of my strongest attributes.”

“Then perhaps that is the major theme you chose to learn before you came to this life,” the ninja said. That set the strider back on his heels.

Kenyatta walked up next to his friend and enjoyed the little daylight that was left. “Anodar day on the battlefield?” he said, reverting back to his version of the western language to soften the mood.

“Not another day,” Kita replied soberly. “I haven’t felt this type of anxiety since we had our first real fight.”

Kenyatta smiled at that memory. “Ya man, you could barely hold your staff because your hands was so sweaty.”

Kita shoved Kenyatta away, and the Jamaican laughed. “And you weren’t shaking so hard that your swords were banging together?” he shot back.

“But me palms wasn’t drippin’ wit sweat,” Kenyatta said, laughing louder.

Beside Akemi Kenjiro shook his head. “They find fun before they jump from the cliff to the jagged rocks below,” he criticized.

Akemi watched the friends with amusement. “Because they enjoy the life they lead during their descent to the rocks, regardless of whether or not they survive the fall. Worry is useless.”

Kenjiro frowned.

Akemi sighed. “You know that I am not implying that you worry, older brother, but look,” she motioned at the islanders. “They enjoy themselves now, but have you seen a reckless moment in battle with them?”

The samurai grunted and walked away, and Akemi let it go. She was surprised that these foreign warriors had his respect so soon. Her brother would never go into battle with incapable allies. Even the strider, with his amusing but sometimes annoying sense of humor, proved to be a valuable ally.

Kita lunged with a playful punch at his friend, but Kenyatta’s suddenly serious expression stopped him. “What is it?” he asked.

Kenyatta closed his eyes for several heartbeats, then opened them and started for the horses.

“We need to go,” he said. “Now.”

“What is it?” Akemi asked.

“Taliah just spoke to me,” he said, recovering his horse. “It’s started.”

* * *

They rode for an hour before Akemi pulled them to a stop.

“What is it?” Kenjiro asked, and Akemi pointed a trembling finger toward a group of trees to the left of where they stood.

“We are close,” she said. Her voice sounded tiny. Hollow.

At the concerned look on the samurai’s face, Kita looked at the ninja and saw the flickering life in her eyes. She looked aged, as if something inside of her was pulling at her life energy. Up to now, she had looked well, despite her internal battle. Now, she showed visible signs of her losing struggle.

“I don’t see anything,” Shinobu said.

“A portal,” Akemi said, her voice almost inaudible.

Shinobu looked through a gap between two trees and then he finally understood. The tower could only be reached by a form of portal like the one Kenyatta’s sister created. They would have to wait.

“We leave our horses here,” Kenjiro said.

Kenyatta nodded in agreement, not wanting to involve their loyal animal friends. The five warriors dismounted. Kita barely reacted in time to catch the falling ninja.

“How is she supposed to get there?” he asked Kenjiro. “None of us could run straight to the tower alone without meeting battle, much less carrying her.

The samurai thought for a moment and then looked up. “She must ride. Her horse will run so long as Akemi is on her back.”

“Will she be able to hold on?” Kenyatta asked. “Her horse will keep her astride,” Kenjiro answered.

They helped her back into the saddle and Akemi gripped the horn of the saddle in one hand, and leaned over her horse’s neck, wrapping her other hand in the thick mane. She took a deep breath, and blew it out to steady herself.

* * *

Iel was snapped out of his thoughts, sensing the five humans had reached the portal site. He channeled a bit of his power on the portal and opened the path for them. Now he could only hope that their arrival could tip the battle in their favor.

* * *

Five humans and one horse stepped through the portal. The companions stood in disbelief at the sight before them. Only a few hundred yards away was a wall of impenetrable darkness.

“I guess that’s it,” Kita said more casually than he felt. “I can hear the fighting, but how are we supposed to see in that?”

“Use our senses,” Kenjiro said. “Feel your enemy when you cannot see it. It should be much easier than with a human, since our foes are not from this world and emit such negative energy.”

The samurai was right, Kita realized. Even from this distance he could feel the evil. He looked at his best friend, his brother. Kenyatta was clearly nervous, but an excited light burned in his brown eyes.

Shinobu also stared into the blackness. His right hand over his shoulder, hovering over the hilt of that strange sword.

His face like stone, Kenjiro stood tall, his right hand gripping the hilt of the sword at his side. His loose clothes blew in the wind that slithered through the trees like a serpent through a grassy field.

Kita’s gaze again fell on Akemi, and he admired the ninja demon huntress’s courage. She was weak, but managed to sit erect in the saddle. Whatever that demon taint was doing to her inside, the woman would hold strong to her last breath. On her lower back, that unusual sword, Sekimaru, practically radiated power. He could almost feel a presence within the weapon.

Kita’s hand tightened around the shaft of his not yet extended staff. He looked down and realized his knuckles were turning white, and he loosened his grip. Beside him, Akemi let out a barely audible grunt.

“How is she supposed to find her way to the tower in this darkness?” Shinobu asked.

“The same way she led us to where we now stand,” the samurai responded.

The five warriors looked at each other, feeling the camaraderie that had developed between them over the time they’d traveled and fought together. Kenjiro moved to stand beside his sister.

“Go to Takashaniel and be healed,” he said. “Then join us on the field.”

Akemi looked down at him, and it seemed an effort just to smile. “You will have an even greater battle on your hands if I return to see that you have left nothing for me to fight.”