The Book of Deacon: Book 02 - The Great Convergence (56 page)

Trigorah held her aching head. "I felt
nothing. Where is my sword? If you won't find him I will do it
myself."

" . . . I may have dallied too long. It is
time for you to retreat. I cannot risk having you here right now.
Not under these conditions," he decided suddenly.

"Not while Lain is so near. And not while you
face three Chosen," Trigorah countered.

"I would reason with you, but I really
haven't got the time, and this is a precaution I am afraid I simply
must take," Epidime said.

In one smooth motion he raised his halberd
and struck the still weak Trigorah. The blow was accompanied with a
flash of the halberd's gem, betraying a spell that was no doubt
intended to ensure that the strike had its desired effect. His
fellow General dropped back to the ground. A silent order went out
to the fastest remaining dragoyle. As he mounted his own beast, the
second pulled away from its pursuit, snatched up Trigorah, and
turned north, disappearing into the distance. Epidime soared high
into the air. It didn't take long before he spotted Lain. The fool
was carrying the injured creature across his shoulders, running in
plain sight. He swept down after the pair, but the leathery beating
of wings drew his attention. Behind him, the dragoyle form of Ether
was closing in on him. He managed to evade her, but the five
dragoyles that pursued her were another matter. They were far more
focused on catching their prey than avoiding this obstacle or any
other. Just as Myn had in her final battle, Ether used the trail of
single-minded beasts as a battering ram. No fewer than three of
them collided with him, the whole tangle of creatures falling to
the ground like a stone. Now that only two remained, Ether could
easily dispatch them, and she did so in mere moments. Circling to
the ground, she eyed the mound of shattered dragoyle suspiciously
as she resumed her human form.

"I cannot abide by that form. It is not
without its usefulness, but I feel soiled by it," she hissed,
confident that her job was done.

Her confidence, so often her downfall in the
past, was again misplaced. As she approached the pile, a small
portion of it stirred. Epidime pulled himself from among the broken
bodies. Impossibly, the fall that had shattered the almost
supernaturally hearty monstrosities had spared him. He was much the
worse for wear, to be sure, as one arm hung limply at his side and
an ankle was turned hideously inward. As he struggled free,
however, his arm twitched, moved, and apparently recovered. He
didn't even seem to notice the ankle until he tried to step on it.
A moment later and he corrected the twisted limb.

"What
are
you?" Ether growled.

"For now? Human," Epidime croaked, his voice
faltering.

He hacked and coughed, a pink mist of blood
splattering his chin as he did so.

"In a moment, you will be nothing," Ether
threatened, taking on her stone form and charging at him.

Lain had heard the collision and watched out
of the corner of his eye as the broken mass had fallen. Perhaps
Ether had defeated the General once and for all. Unlikely. All that
mattered was that she had occupied him. There was a chance that he
could escape. The edge of the town, and the field that lay beyond,
was only a few hundred paces away. It was far from safe, offering
little cover, but that was a blessing as well as a curse. Once he
was outside of the city he could at least be sure that no foe was
lurking out of sight. If he could just reach it. In the shadows, a
whisper of motion caught Lain's eye. Then another, and another. He
redoubled his efforts, pushing himself as hard as his weary,
battered body could allow.

With a chorus of screeches, the shadows
themselves seemed to leap out at him. Claws swiped at him from all
sides as cloaks, still sizzling from the dose of miasma Ether had
doused them with, flooded the street. One of the creatures caught
his leg and he tumbled forward. By the time he regained his
footing, he was completely surrounded by what was left of Epidime's
ground forces. They floated and flitted around him, sweeping in to
slash with their phantom claws. He stood over Ivy and drew his
sword, knowing that these moments of delay might be the mortally
wounded creature's last. The way in which the creatures attacked,
holding back and jutting in briefly to swipe at him one at a time,
had been a blessing in the past. It had allowed him to pick them
off slowly and to bide his time for an escape. Now, though, he
needed to hold his ground, to destroy every last one of them, or at
least disable them, and fast. The intermittent swipes now came
frustratingly slowly. It was almost as though they were purposely
wasting time.

Ivy groaned weakly. Lain sliced through
another cloak. He breathed in long, greedy breaths, the frigid air
burning at his lungs. The motions of his body and the sword were an
afterthought, something akin to a reflex. As he fought, his mind
worked feverishly to plan out his escape; where to run, how to
treat Ivy's wound. There would be no room for error. Another slash,
another foe fell. The fact that Ether had ravaged the beasts so
badly was more than a blessing. It was a rare stroke of luck that
made victory possible.

Just a few streets away, the shape shifter's
clash with Epidime was growing ever more intense. Ether knew that
she'd spent most of the strength she had left. If she didn't end
this quickly, she was not certain she would last. Epidime, however,
seemed inexhaustible. His body seemed to be failing, but the
mystical creature knew that the real threat came not from his body,
but from his spirit, and it raged just as intensely as it had at
the beginning of the battle. Despite this, he was limiting himself.
His blows seemed as carefully measured as they were well placed.
Ether avoided most and blocked the rest, but she knew that he would
not behave in this way unless he had good reason. His motivation,
however, remained a mystery to her, and that concerned her.

His halberd swung in a slow, wide arc,
forcing her backward. He then quickly circled around her, deftly
avoiding a diving attack from his opponent. Ether's fatigue was
beginning to show. Her attacks were becoming more frequent, and had
the air of desperation that he had been waiting for. He shuffled a
few more steps, watching with a grin as she adjusted her stance to
compensate. Perfect. In a lightning motion, he thrust his weapon
forward, unleashing a blinding lance of energy that struck her
squarely in the chest. The force of it launched her like a comet,
trailing energy and shattering through the wall behind her.

Hearing a distinctive crackle, Lain crouched
and gathered up his precious cargo, rolling aside a mere fraction
of a moment before the wall that had served as the backdrop for his
battle thus far burst toward him. He rolled to a stop with cloaks
on all sides. One grabbed each arm. Another grasped him about the
throat. He struggled briefly, but their grip was too strong. In the
rubble beneath the gaping hole in wall, the form of Ether rose. She
was riddled with cracks, barely holding together. As the last
pieces of debris from the explosion of force fell to the earth,
Epidime stepped through the hole he had made. He looked about at
his handiwork, smiling at the mound of rubble and the flicker of
shattered lanterns from a nearby storefront.

"You should thank me. It is an important
lesson in the art of war I have taught you today. Victory in a
single stroke takes as much planning as power," Epidime mocked.

A sudden and swift move from Lain quickly
wiped the smile from his face. The assassin caught the edge of one
of the cloaks restraining him with his foot and pulled his arm
free. He then managed to force the second one backward into the
pool of burning lamp oil from one of the shattered lanterns. It
took quickly to flame and screeched through the air for a few
moments before fluttering to the ground, motionless. In the
distraction, Lain managed to regain his sword. The other cloaks,
and a handful of surviving nearmen who had finally managed to
navigate the city to their prey, began to descend on Lain, but
Epidime stopped them with a thought.

"Listen, Lain. I know full well that you
would sooner die than be taken captive, just as you would sooner
give your life than lose that of the delicate creature at your
feet. Alas, my orders are quite clear. Until certain criteria are
met, you must be captured alive. All of you. Perhaps I could subdue
you. Perhaps you could defeat me. Neither could happen before your
precious Ivy fades away. That is her very life pooling about your
feet. Every drop of blood is one she can't spare. Use your logic,
assassin. Let me have her. I will heal her, you will escape. We
will both fulfill the more important of our goals. If not, then we
both fail," Epidime reasoned.

"Don't listen to him, Lain. Kill him," Ether
ordered. She struggled to remain standing, straining under the
weight of her own stony form.

"She wants Ivy dead. You know that," Epidime
countered.

Lain's weapon lowered slightly. Ivy's eyes
were locked on him, glazed and wavering. He drew in a slow,
deliberate breath of air, eyes closed. He then exhaled, opening his
eyes and tightening his grip on his weapon.

"So be it," Epidime sighed, raising his
weapon for the coming battle.

He made ready to attack the stubborn hero,
but something made him pause. Weapon still at the ready, he swept
his eyes across the cityscape around him. A bitter wind was
blowing. Harder now than it had been a moment ago. And now harder
still. There was something else. A sensation. A presence. He
shifted the halberd and gave the ground a sharp thrust. A wave of
black force rippled out from where it met the earth. It flowed
across the street in all directions. Just before it reached Ivy,
something disturbed it. It parted, like the water in a stream about
a stone. As it did, the merest glimpse of something else could be
seen, as though a veil had been briefly blown aside by a gentle
breeze.

What followed happened with a speed few could
comprehend. The fluttering black mist was drawn up by some unseen
force only to be dispelled entirely, vanishing. A flash of light
forced all to avert their gaze, as the icy wind surged, seeming to
blow in from all directions at once. As Epidime struggled to regain
his sight after the blinding flash, he beheld before him a pair of
forms. Each was clad in a pristine white cloak, face hidden by the
hood. One held the crystal-tipped end of a shattered staff, a bow
over one shoulder and a quiver of arrows over the other. The second
clutched a crystal in one hand and an odd, twin bladed weapon in
the other. A sadistic grin came to Epidime's face, in his eyes a
hint of the darkness that lurked in his soul.

"And then there were five," he said, his tone
that of a monster unleashed. "KILL THEM ALL! NO ONE SURVIVES!"

The foot soldiers rushed in, Epidime turning
to the opening he'd blasted through the wall moments ago and
dashing through it. As he did, he raised his weapon. A ribbon of
intense light erupted skyward, splitting above the city and
encircling the walls. Instantly a shimmering barrier coalesced just
outside the outskirts of the city. A trio of nearmen followed their
master as he sprinted from sight. The staff-wielding stranger
rushed to the side of the ailing Ivy. The other turned to the
cloaks. A swift thrust of the crystal sent a bolt of light that
struck the nearest attacker. In an instant the cloak turned to
glass, shattering as it struck the ground. A second cloak drew near
only to be struck by a second bolt that seemed to unravel the
monster, leaving only a pile of frayed threads. A nearman was next,
turned to stone by another attack. Behind the defender, the first
figure crouched beside Ivy. The half dead creature struggled to
focus her eyes on the white-clad form.

"I told them. I told them . . . " she
wheezed.

The staff was lowered, a hushed voice
whispered a few arcane words. Slowly wounds began to close. Ether,
still barely able to stand, dragged herself over to the pair.

"Finally. Finally more of my own arise," she
chanted.

By the time she reached the others, the
street was completely cleared of foes and Ivy was breathing the
slow, deep breaths of a healing sleep. The defender turned first
with weapons raised at the approach of the shape shifter, but
lowered them quickly. The unused blade was slipped into the cloak,
and the hood was drawn back to reveal a disheveled yet enthusiastic
young man.

"Ether, I presume. I cannot begin to . . . "
he spoke eagerly.

"Later, Deacon. The wall. We need to escape,"
the other cloaked figure advised. This voice was indeed
familiar.

As the young wizard nodded and rushed off,
Ether's eyes widened.

"You! How?" the shape shifter gasped in an
unprecedented showing of awe.

The healer stood, pulling back the hood.
There, before Ether, stood Myranda. Lain rushed to her and for a
moment their eyes locked. Then each gave a knowing nod. The
assassin scooped up the slumbering Ivy and followed in Deacon's
path. The shape shifter, perhaps realizing the look of shock on her
face, regained her composure.

"How can you be here? How did you survive?"
she demanded.

"I'll explain when there is time. Have you
much strength left?" Myranda asked with concern.

"I've more than enough," Ether lied. She
attempted to straighten her posture but only succeeded in
underscoring her fatigue.

Myranda was not fooled.

"I'll help you," she said.

Ether tried to push the human away, but
lacked the strength even to do that. Instead she slipped back to
her human form and leaned heavily on Myranda as they made their way
after the others. They didn't get far. Her partner dashed up to
her, panting.

"It is no good. The power behind the wall is
. . . incalculable. I've never faced anything like it. If we want
to leave this place, we have to cut off the spell at its focus. We
have to stop that wizard from maintaining it," he said.