The Northern Approach (33 page)

“There is no time. We have to fight without him,” Raeln told the orc, drawing his sword. The horses were close enough that Raeln could hear the pounding of their hooves and make out the armor the undead soldiers wore. Less than a minute.

“Wha…where are we?” sputtered Estin, blinking as On’esquin smacked his cheek again. “How did we get out here?”

“No time,” On’esquin insisted, pulling Estin to his feet. “Use the gift you were given, Estin. This is the time. Unleash the powers of life and death on them. This is one of the reasons I gave you that gift.”

Bleary-eyed and unsteady, Estin turned until he saw the army approaching them. He then closed his eyes and concentrated, straining so hard his body trembled, but then opened his eyes again and shook his head. “I can’t. I can’t find the emotion, the need to do it. I’m so tired…”

“What more need could there be?” demanded On’esquin, sounding genuinely angry. “There are two Turessians coming for us! They will be here in seconds and we will all die!”

Estin looked toward the approaching force and shrugged, giving Raeln an apologetic look. “They didn’t kill my son or mate,” admitted Estin, sitting down on the ground and wrapping his arms around the pouch containing Feanne’s ashes. “Let them kill me. I’m tired of fighting, On’esquin. I can’t remember a day I wasn’t fighting. Run if you want, but I’m done. I can’t keep doing your work for you. Find someone else.”

Grunting in frustration, On’esquin yanked the spear off his shoulder by the leather strap that ran down its length. He shot Estin another angry glare and then pushed past Yoska and Raeln, heading out to meet the army. “You all have asked me for answers,” On’esquin shouted so he could be heard without turning, as he planted the spear in the ground at his side. Spreading his arms, he let the wind catch his robe, flapping it about himself. “Watch and do not ask me again. We each have our gifts and our place…witness mine and never hesitate again.”

A bolt of lightning flew past On’esquin and blackened the grass several feet behind Raeln with a crack and the smell of dry brush burning. He traced it back and saw the two Turessians were riding out ahead of the group and one had her hand pointed toward On’esquin, while the other appeared to still be finishing up a spell of his own.

Strong winds rustled Raeln’s fur and he looked around, trying to find the source. He finally looked up and saw the previously clear sky had darkened and clouds rolled in as though being dragged there. A dark center around which the clouds had begun to turn high overhead warned of a tornado, though Raeln had never heard of magic being able to summon such a thing. He looked back to the Turessians and saw the man was pointing at that spot in the sky, washing away any doubt. The man intended to tear them apart with winds before the soldiers could even reach them, and there was nothing Raeln could do to stop it.

Abruptly, the winds changed direction and Raeln felt as though instead of a great column of air rotating around their group, there were winds circling only On’esquin. Soon the speed of the winds raised enough dust from the ground that he could clearly see the column, even as lightning arced down from the sky along the lines of the tornado, hitting On’esquin in the shoulder and then his back.

“Come on, come on,” the orc muttered loudly, picking up and holding his weapon at his side as though he were about to defend against a horse charge rather than a whirlwind. “Keep trying, you fool. Keep putting more into it. Do this the way your master taught you when dealing with a foe you fear…”

A deafening peal of thunder knocked Raeln back a step as lightning struck On’esquin full-on, driving him to his knees.

As the sound of it cleared, the plains echoed with On’esquin’s laughter as he got back to his feet and lifted his spear toward the sky. “That will do nicely, students,” announced On’esquin, bringing the spear up as high as he could, pointing it up at the heart of the storm above.

Thunder rolled across the plains and the horses raced toward them, only seconds out from riding right over On’esquin. Raeln could see lances lowered all across the line of horsemen, ready to tear through their group, while the horses behind would trample whatever survived the initial strike.

The winds picked up in intensity yet again, tightening their circular path around On’esquin’s weapon rather than his body. Lightning fell like rain, striking the weapon’s metal tip repeatedly until the whole spear glowed with radiated heat. Though this did not seem to daunt the rest of the soldiers, Raeln could see the two Turessians pull back on their reigns, trying to fall back but unable with so many other horses riding right behind them. One by one, the soldiers’ horses slammed into the Turessians as they struggled to flee.

“Behold, the failed experiment,” On’esquin announced as the storm came to an abrupt halt around him, the silence nearly as deafening as the winds had been. He lowered the spear toward the Turessians and the rest of the army as he spoke. “Tell your master that the betrayer has come back for him. I will visit soon enough.”

A tornado erupted from the tip of the spear, roaring into life between On’esquin and the army. Lightning raced the length of the wind storm, the cone of wind and light expanding until the entire arc of horses was hit full force by it. Horses and armored men flew away from their group, rising as high as fifty feet in the air before coming crashing down halfway back to the city in bloodied and broken heaps. Of the entire force, only one of the Turessians remained, having thrown herself off of her horse and falling back behind a gleaming wall of magic. As the winds faded, so did her shield and she raised her head, looking at them with undisguised horror.

“Start running, puppet,” On’esquin told her and then spun his spear around in a grand flourish, finishing with its leather strap over his shoulder as he turned to leave. “We will see you in Turessi.”

The group walked away from the carnage in silence as the Turessian woman fled back toward the city on foot, with Raeln barely able to fathom the magic that could destroy an army so completely, let alone turned and used against its creator the way he had seen. On’esquin had gone from quirky and out of touch to terrifying in that single minute.

Looking at the others, Raeln saw similar confusion on their faces. No one would even glance at On’esquin, who led the way, hiking on ahead with a stupid grin splayed on his face. Behind them, small whorls of dust continued to tear at the vast army that lay on the ground, surrounded by their broken horses.

For not the first time, Raeln wondered why On’esquin even bothered to bring the rest of them. While wondering, he saw a faint glow along the horizon and realized that staying in one place might not be wise. Even On’esquin had spoken of the mists as a threat.

*

It had neared midnight by the time any of them were confident enough in their distance from the city to stop again. They had crossed the first wide section of the plains north of Pholithia before turning somewhat northwest to head into the woods that lined the foothills. They hoped to avoid discovery there and get some extra distance from the mists Yoska had also spotted glowing along the horizon to the east. The trees ran north and south far beyond Raeln’s sight, giving him some confidence that, even if the Turessians sent troops to pursue, it would take days to even attempt to locate them.

They had wandered for hours in the woods, trying to find somewhere sufficiently sheltered. It took them several hours after the moon had come up to locate the tightly wooded area near a creek that Raeln hoped might provide some fish, as well as much-needed water for their travels. The dense tree cover would help conceal them if the Turessians came looking.

“What do we have left in our supplies?” Raeln asked once they had begun to settle in.

Yoska and On’esquin shook their heads grimly and Yoska added that he had not found time to grab anything during their flight from the city. They all had a few items that Ira and Thomin had packed for them, but the vast majority of the supplies had been left behind. Estin held up a small sack he had managed to save, but it would not keep them going long.

“We’re worse off than when we arrived in the city,” admitted Estin as he sat down and began emptying his pouches alongside the sack. He produced dried fruits, hardtack bread, and a few pastries he had managed to stuff into his bags before running—or, Raeln realized, he had stolen from the house’s pantry when no one was looking. Sighing, Estin moved to rub his head and winced as he touched the thickly dried blood on his brow.  “This won’t last us more than a day or two. Everything else was left behind.”

Every member of the group began laying out everything they had taken with them, consisting largely of weaponry, which had been all they had thought about when the house was raided. They had many of the basic tools they would need, but little else. Raeln saw three swords, the spear On’esquin held, a dozen knives, and Estin’s book of magic. Raeln, Yoska, and Estin all had one spare change of clothing, packed the night before. They had the tattered remains of On’esquin’s map, and Yoska laid out a rolled piece of parchment Raeln guessed was the information Thomin had left them or another map. Other than those items, Yoska’s battered old cup, the bag of ashes Estin carried, and their own capabilities, they had nothing. They did not even have a single bedroll or blanket among them.

Estin looked over their supplies and shrugged, sitting back and touching the gash in his forehead more gingerly. His eyes went distant for a moment as he covered the wound, and when he took his hand away, Raeln could see the cut was closed, though the skin still looked raw there. For him that injury would have taken days to close, let alone heal properly. He had plenty of scars that would have been far less trouble had he met someone like Estin earlier in life.

“We’re alive,” Estin said, though he sounded as though he were trying to convince himself that it was enough. “Has anyone seen my fox?”

Raeln shook his head, as did the others. “I saw her in the house but never outside,” he said. “She might have gotten caught inside or she may have hidden from the fight. I’m sorry…”

Shaking his head, Estin dismissed Raeln and went to sit a little farther from the group. Though Raeln could tell he was not really angry about the loss of the animal so much as the loss of Thomin and Ira, Estin rubbed at his wife’s claws that still hung on the necklace he wore. Raeln could see in him a mirror for his own feelings: they were both sick of losing people, whether old friends and family or newly met strangers.

“Get yourself cleaned up before something finds your stench. All that blood will attract attention we don’t want,” warned On’esquin, sticking a thumb in the direction of the river.

Raeln agreed with him, trying not to look at the gruesome stains that covered the front of his clothing and fur. The hole in his shoulder ached fiercely, but he would trust in his tourniquet until Estin was ready to deal with more injuries. He could feel dried blood all through his coat, from his chin to the tips of his fingers and all the way down to the matted fur between his toes.

Leaving behind most of his gear but taking the rolled-up single change of clothing he had brought with him, Raeln headed into the woods toward the stream. He moved cautiously, knowing the water was likely farther out than it sounded and not wanting to be the one to accidentally lead a raiding party back to the camp or tumble clumsily into the water.

He soon reached the edge of the water—a narrow stream that raced downhill through jagged rocks. It was thankfully deep enough that he could wash himself without having to scoop water and splash himself—a small thing, but one that made him feel far more relaxed, as he could keep a watch while bathing.

Stripping, Raeln stepped into the stream and waded until the water was up to the middle of his stomach. He checked the shores one more time for pursuit, but finding none, he settled in to scrub the filth from himself. Sinking to his knees, he took a deep breath and plunged his upper half into the cold water, rubbing his fur while he was underwater to get rid of as much blood as he could. When he came back up, he felt exhilarated, the chill water bringing back an alertness that had waned with each day he failed to sleep. Unfortunately, it made the pain in his shoulder that much worse, but he was willing to ignore that for the moment.

Raeln let his exposed fur dry a little as he stood in the stream, trying not to shiver. Then he prepared to dunk himself again and stopped halfway bent, smelling something different. He moved his ears every which way, trying to identify anything moving. It took him a second before he heard quiet sounds on the beach behind him, as though something were padding toward him. His first thought was a mountain lion or perhaps a wolf.