The Demigod Proving (59 page)

The Master roared, his eyes glinting, and feinted toward Wrend by taking one step—and Wrend started to dodge backward, his heart leaping up into his throat.

But the Master stopped.

Back among the ranks of the Hasuken delegation, one of the men dropped from his horse. He went limp and slid right out of the saddle, almost as if he'd fainted. Before he clattered to the ground in a pile of armor and weapons, a second man, in the front row of the Hasuken, also began to fall.

“Idiots!” eagle-face said, looking back at his men with indignation. “Protect yourselves!”

Wrend glanced at Leenda in confusion.

“They weren't protecting themselves,” she said. “So he ripped out their souls.”

“And you're protecting me
and
yourself?” Wrend said.

She nodded. “Naresh must be helping me with your soul.”

“Wrend,” the Master said, “let me give you your punishment, or I will force it upon you. You can’t escape my justice.”

Wrend shook his head and stepped backward. The entire conversation was useless.

“I'll find a better way.”

Something seemed to snap, as if a barrier had broken. The crowd leapt into motion.

Eagle-face and the eight remaining Hasuken lifted from their stirrups into the air toward the Master, fanning out in a semi-spherical formation. The three demigods that had accompanied the Master sprang forward, blades flashing as steel leapt from their scabbards.

“Run,” Leenda said, as she started to turn around.

“Cuchorack,” the Master said as he turned to meet the onslaught. He dropped his sword and readied the staff in both hands. “Eat them.”

The draegon roared and extended its wings and neck. It jumped into the air, toward the fray.

For a moment everything hovered on the inexorable path of violence. The Hasuken, including eagle-face and Naresh, floated in the blue sky or against the backdrop of the desert, faces bound in focus and determination, the tips of their pikes glinting in the sun, the banners on the pike tips hanging in mid-flutter. The horses they'd jumped from began to scatter, turning away from the fight. Cuchorack's fur flattened against its body, pushed by the force of its leap. All the tension drained out of the Master’s face and a dead serenity filled his eyes as he drank in the converging men. Calla and Teirn froze on their steeds, which kicked at the air with their forelegs.

Wrend's eyes met Teirn's. A farewell passed between them. Their years of goofing off and challenging each other to do better and more—all of their conversations about where life would take them—and much, much more, all came to a sudden end. Sorrow and hatred filled Teirn’s face.

Wrend would never again look upon his brother as a friend.

He’d made his choice. Teirn had made his.

The realization tore at his soul. The Master had rejected him, had tried to kill him, but it didn't hurt as much as this expression of utter disdain from his brother.

The moment passed. Everything became a blur. The men converged on the Master. He moved into them, staff whirring. Leenda pulled Wrend away. They fled at an angle that led them between the butte and Hasuken army. The sound of men grunting and metal striking wood followed them, punctuated with the thundering of Cuchorack's steps and the snapping of its jaws.

Above it all sounded another command from the Master.

“Teirn, kill your brother.”

Chapter 76: Engaged

One fight progresses much like the next. What’s really interesting is who is alive at the end.

-Athanaric

Athanaric assumed the defensive posture: legs bent, ready to spring, staff held in one hand at his side. To survive the next three minutes, he would have to focus on the task. He couldn’t let his disappointment and sorrow at Wrend distract him.

He emptied himself of emotion and became a piece of meat without feeling. He would have time to deal with Wrend soon enough—if Teirn didn’t.

The ten men used Flux to hover in front and around him in a bubble formation. In his two thousand years, he’d seen this before; they wanted to hem him in, cut off every avenue of escape while keeping their distance. So, the natural method of defense was to not dodge attacks, but move into them, meet them head-on, to get out of and repeatedly break the formation before all of the Hasuken could converge on him. If he didn't, they would skewer him like a boar with their pikes. They probably would, anyway. It was a question of how many times and where.

He applied Ichor and leapt into the oncoming attack, twisting in mid-air, so that for a moment he became a smaller target. The motion also exposed his back to a nearby Hasuken, so as he slashed with the staff at the head of the attacker—who ducked underneath the blow—he kept spinning. When he completed the motion, he landed on the outside of the sphere, facing the Hasuken.

And, behind them, Cuchorack.

He’d broken their formation. As Teirn and Calla galloped away, in the direction that Wrend and Leenda had gone, Cuchorack lunged, extending his neck. He snapped with his jaws at one Hasuken, and twisted his head so that his horns threatened another. Both missed their marks, but it drew the two Hasuken away from Athanaric. Next to Cuchorack, they looked like flies buzzing around a dog.

Simultaneously, the three Caretakers engaged the Hasuken, jumping high and descending upon the outer-most pike men, swords slashing. They moved with deliberate speed and agility—as they should have: they'd spent decades practicing, sparring with each other and their brothers and sisters. They each drew two of the Hasuken to them, but fought so closely and ranged so far and wide that Athanaric couldn’t tell who focused on attacking who at what time. In fact, it shifted every moment as they moved along the ground and up into the air in a churning blur of melee. One moment one of the three demigods would lift into the air, using Flux to move in an irregular path and attack an unexpected Hasuken alone; and the next all three of them would land on the ground, converging on the same Hasuken. Those six enemies, who engaged the demigods, dropped their pikes in favor of swords, and clashing steel filled the air. A cloud of dust rose around them.

That left Athanaric engaged with Naresh and three of the pike men, including the leader. The three Hasuken kept at a distance, using Flux to push away whenever he lunged at one of them—but not so far away that they couldn't try to poke him with their pikes. He did his best to knock the shafts aside with his staff and land a blow on the wielder—and usually succeeded—but took several wounds before managing to snatch one of the pikes and yank it out of a Hasuken's hands. To him, the pike was simply a long spear, and he turned it on the man and threw it while dodging to the side to avoid a jab at his ribs from another direction. The man jumped aside, and the pike shattered on a rock behind him.

Naresh dodged to one side and threw a dagger. Its flashing in the sunlight provided Athanaric’s only warning—too late—and he took the blade in the back of his shoulder. To a normal man, the wound could have proven critical, debilitating, but to Athanaric it was not much more than a prick—though it stung, and he had to take the time to remove it, which gave an opening to a pike man to stab him in the thigh. The spearhead punctured his armor with a pop.

Applying Thew to the wound in his shoulder, Athanaric dropped his staff, grabbed the shaft of the pike as the Hasuken twisted it in his leg, and threw the dagger at the pike man. It hit home in the chest, sinking well past the hilt. The man staggered back, his eyes wide. Athanaric removed the spear from his leg, dodged a second dagger from Naresh, and twisted his body to force another spearhead to glance off of his chest.

At the edge of his vision, the oldest of the three Caretakers, Reshantha, took a sword in the heart. With Thew behind it, the sword punctured his breastplate like an arrow, and he fell limp out of the air. In the same moment, one of the Hasuken screamed as Cuchorack skewered him on his horns.

And in the distance, half way toward the butte, Teirn and Calla pursued Wrend.

Chapter 77: In a tangle

The best time to learn how to use any type of Ichor is when under stress.

-Teirn

With Leenda running ahead of him, one arm extended out behind her, so he could hold her hand, Wrend fled the fray.

“Where are we going?” he shouted.

She rolled her eyes. “Somewhere we can be alone. I don’t know. Just away from that fight.”

He hated to run, but had no other choice. He couldn't fight the Master, lacking not only the skill, but also the will. Though the Master wanted him dead, Wrend wished no ill toward him. He would’ve preferred that the Master change his methods—even though that would never happen. And he didn’t want to fight Teirn.

He leaped over a poison sage, his boots brushing their spiny leaves, and looked back past Teirn and Calla, at the fight. Cuchorack had joined the struggle, as had the three demigods. The Hasuken withstood them. Somehow they used Ichor—perhaps they were all descendents of Haskue, their god.

He nearly stumbled as his foot came down on a small rock and his ankle twisted. But Leenda's sheer speed pulled him on and kept him afoot. He had to use all of his abilities with Thew to keep up with her, but even then held her back. She could've leapt further and higher, taking strides ten times as long as his if he could use Flux. As it was, he only used Thew to strengthen his legs, to allow him to take fifteen-foot strides over rocks, cacti, and poison sage.

Between the sound of his heavy breathing and pounding boots came the rhythm of horses' hooves. A hundred feet back, Teirn and Calla pursued, whipping their horses and shouting for them to run faster.

As he came down on a flat rock, Wrend looked back to see Teirn's horse stumble and start to roll. It squealed. Without slowing or losing any speed, Teirn leapt from the saddle before the horse even hit the ground, soaring through the air like someone jumping off of a cliff. His arms and legs flailed, and he gained control of his limbs and seemed to run through the air. His arc continued upward instead of curving down—a feat he couldn't have accomplished without Flux.

Wrend couldn't escape him. There was no chance.

“Leenda,” he said, “we have to stop and face him. We can't outrun him.”

The ground blurred beneath his feet, between steps. The butte loomed a few hundred yards ahead and to the left.

“We need a good place to fight.”

She scoured the landscape, her face intent.

“You don't have a weapon.”

“I’ll be fine,” she said. “What about you?”

“I hope so.”

He couldn’t kill Teirn. Not only because of their brotherhood, but also because of Teirn’s skill with Ichor; he didn’t think Teirn would take it easy on him this time, as he’d done back at the cave.

“There,” Leenda said.

She pointed to the left and ahead, where yucca trees covered a small rise. Between them, yellow spines of poisoned sage spread in the morning sunlight. The cluster of plants created a virtual wall. Prickly pears and other sharp bushes spotted the sides.