Aurora's Rift, page 25
part #1 of Celestial Arcanists Series
It flashes brighter still at its peak, and I can hear people screaming, shouting, crying out to their One God.
Before it’s even faded, I jump down from the wall, clapping Eldan on the shoulder.
“Get us out of here, kindred,” I say.
Twenty-Eight
Quest Complete: A Symbol They Can’t Ignore. You have revealed yourself to the gathered masses of Mithrathan, ignoring their leader to spread your message directly to the people themselves. You have defied Arnantas to his face and dealt him a blow by throwing his own declaration back in it. While you have done this without additional bloodshed, harbor no illusions. You have made a powerful, powerful enemy. +500 Experience. +250 Bonus Experience.
Quest Complete: Rift Off This, Part 2. You have freed the as many refugees as you could and sprung Arnantas’s trap, but you are not out of trouble yet—instead, you just bought a whole lot more. +500 Experience. +150 Bonus Experience.
New Quest: Escape From Mithrathan. You drew every eye to you and blinded them momentarily with Aurora’s Beacon, but this has only bought you time. You have no anonymity now. Escape the city.
New Quest: The Hand of the One God. Know your enemy—find out everything you can about Arnantas. Beith might have some ideas.
I dismiss the notifications as quickly as I can, following Eldan as he runs across the sloped roof, vaulting over the edge onto the lower roof beside it where we climbed up. I scramble down, scraping my hand on the stucco of the building. Dar jumps down on light feet, sinking into a crouch with the impact as if it’s nothing.
“Go,” I say to Eldan.
I lose track of all the turns. Several times Eldan skids to a stop, slamming an arm into my chest so I don’t go barreling past him and right into a patrol of Purifiers. Dar reacts with reflexes faster than any cat, her eyes alert and wary as we wind through the city.
The sun begins to set before we reach the city’s outskirts, and the only comfort I have that mutes the pounding of my heart and the pounding rhythm of my feet is that it has been long enough that the cool down on Aurora’s Beacon has reset.
“The harts are coming,” Dar says with relief. “The others are with them. The animals will lead them to us.”
Good news. Good news I cling to.
“How long?” is all Eldan asks, his eyes scanning the farmland around us that is just giving way to forest.
“Not long,” Dar says tersely. “A quarter of an hour. Maybe a half.”
“Keep moving,” says Eldan.
We hurry through the falling dark, the smell of smoke noticeable even here now with the changing of the wind.
The bellow of a horn cuts through the air.
“Shit,” I say, a moment too soon, because an answering call drowns out my expletive.
“They know we’re heading south,” Dar says. “We should have gone a different direction.”
“East we would have run into the river,” argues Eldan. “And west was full of patrols.”
For the first time I notice that the man is flagging. As much as he’s trying to hide it, whatever it is that allows him to seek paths out of danger costs him something. Stamina, maybe. Or mana. Or some other form of energy that he can’t afford to lose too much of. We’ve been leaning on him all day.
Another horn sounds in the gloaming.
“How many?” My words are sharp in the thick tension of twilight.
“Three patrols. Fifteen if we’re lucky. Twenty if we’re not.” Eldan doesn’t sound hopeful about our luck.
“Shit.” Neither does Dar. Her gaze is on the southeast, probably willing the harts to come faster.
But even if Teinath and Ink and Aigen meet us, six against twenty is not the best odds.
They appear a bare moment later, or the first of them does, mounted Purifiers on horseback.
Dar drops into stealth, and I preemptively cast Ela’s Touch, bracing myself for the humans’ attack.
The first patrol is six riders, each of them in burgundy leather with the hand of the One God emblazoned on the chest in gold. Half of them have bows, and they hold them at the ready, guiding their mounts with their knees.
“We can’t wait for them to engage us,” Eldan says. “If we wait, they’ll simply surround us. Make them work for it.”
He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I cast Sudden Blaze at the soldiers closest to me. It catches three of them at once, and the horses scream, sending a sharp pang of guilt through me.
The two archers who aren’t on fire shout curses, drawing arrows.
I cast Aura of Deigith on the pair of archers, chilling them. Frost glints on their bowstrings, and Icicle is fast on its heels, bolstered by the first spell to even more icy power. It shatters the archer it hits outright, and my Static Charge triggers, lightning leaping between the soldiers. The second archer’s bowstring snaps in a brittle twang. I don’t know where Dar is, but a buzz cuts through the air, followed by a metallic ping just as Eldan dives in front of me, and the arrow he’s just deflected with his shield skitters harmlessly to the ground.
I register the thumps in the earth a split second before sound of hoofbeats behind me makes me spin just as a yell pierces the air from the first patrol.
The second is approaching, more warily now.
“What was that yell?” I ask Eldan, keeping my back to his.
“Dar,” he says. “She’s cutting the saddle billets.”
But I hardly hear his answer.
I recognize one of the men in the patrol.
Ragan.
I shouldn’t be surprised.
The hulking man from Rahnbrug is atop a stunning charger that has to be a solid twenty hands tall, a veritable moose of a horse. More noticeable is Ragan’s armor, which is far finer than the other patrols’, with epaulets of gold spilling over his shoulders.
“Ah,” he says. “A familiar face.”
He looks around, probably seeking Teinath, but Teinath isn’t here.
Ragan’s eyes light on Eldan, though, with some surprise.
The other patrol will join them any minute, but I don’t dare attack now, not with Eldan clearly exhausted. He will not be a match for Ragan. I’m not certain the three of us all together could match Ragan.
“Commander Cole,” he says, not bothering to disguise his disbelief. “The apostate commander of Mithrathan. My, commander, the years have not been kind to you. I suppose it’s the effect of spending them running for your life.”
“Hardly,” says Eldan. “There was very little running.”
“Interesting.” Ragan glances at one of the other soldiers. I start when I realize the soldier in question is an elf. “Mir.”
The elf’s name alone appears to be order enough, and he nocks an arrow, but he doesn’t aim at any of us. Just before he looses it, I feel a faint tug of movement in the air. Mana. The arrow ignites, and three others behind the elf nock arrows that do the same. The arrows soar around us, thumping into the ground.
I feel it in my feet, the impacts, but that isn’t what freezes me. The dry autumn grass catches in an instant.
The fire spreads from the semicircle around us, locking us between it and the riders in front of us.
I still can’t see Dar. Part of me hopes she’s running to meet the others, to warn them, but I don’t know.
“I’m not sure how you got out of the city after your little display,” Ragan muses, ignoring the fire spreading around us. It is encroaching on me and Eldan where we stand. “But you won’t get any farther. I ought to have killed you in Rahnbrug when I had the chance.”
“Yes,” calls Teinath’s voice. “You really ought to have done that.”
An arrow whizzes through the air, and Ragan spins his horse with reflexes far faster than anyone should have at that size. Even so, Ink’s shot takes him in the shoulder, piercing through his armor and lodging firmly in the meat of his deltoid.
He snarls in pain and rage.
I can feel the third patrol coming in the movement of the earth, feel the footsteps of one of the remaining soldiers from the first patrol, feel the anxious whisper of the flames in the grass. I cannot escape the smell of smoke today.
I turn, trying to figure out a plan. Just as I do, one of the approaching soldiers cries out, falling to his knees as Dar blinks into existence behind him. She kicks him forward into the fire and dives away just as Ragan’s elf archer sends another volley toward her.
The ground trembles, and the horses scream again, this time as Teinath’s earth magic sends furrows shooting out in all directions from the epicenter where Ragan himself struggles to keep control over his charger.
And there is Teinath, finally visible. Aigen is drawing her labrys, and as I watch, she uses the wide, double-bitted blade of the massive axe to deflect an arrow from a soldier’s bow.
Ragan draws his sword with no apparent trouble despite the arrow sticking out of his shoulder. Eldan moves to get between me and the hulking human.
The third patrol is here, galloping toward us. That’s at least twelve to our six, and Ragan will be far more dangerous than any of the others.
I wish Ferelthin were here.
The thought pushes me into action. I summon Aurora’s Beacon again, the light erupting from me with the sound of panicking horses. I hope Dar is taking advantage of the moment. Thinking of Ferelthin, I call lightning from the sky. It leaps between the stunned soldiers and Ragan himself, though he hardly twitches with it, shifting his shoulders with a jerk of movement. He’s resisted the stun from the beacon and the lightning itself.
There’s a cry as the elf Mir tumbles from his horse, the cinch springing free under the deft work of Dar’s dagger. I hear the slap of the flat of her blade connecting with the horse’s flank, and the horse rears and whinnies, almost landing with heavy hooves on Mir himself, who is dazed and half-stunned still.
“Hold!” Ragan bellows.
The heat of the fire around us is getting stronger. Part of my mind is hovering on the edge of panic, thinking of the Knolls going up in flames, thinking of how I decided a passive with extra fire resistance wasn’t worth it, thinking of how the fire is licking up the dry grass like it’s ambrosia, ready to devour everything in its path. The flames have already spread beyond the field, catching bushes and a small sapling at the edge of a farm. Shouts go up on the farm, but I do not expect they will risk interfering.
Fire.
Of course.
“Thank you,” I say to Ragan, gesturing to the fire surrounding me with my staff.
“What?”
It’s the only word he gets out before I seize the fire itself, dragging on my mana to channel Flamethrower and aim a cone of pure flame at the advancing patrol. Dar, briefly visible, dances out of the way even as Ragan dives from his horse, rolling through a patch of smoldering grass.
Aigen’s labrys comes down a foot from Ragan’s head.
Teinath is adding to the fire now, throwing balls of it at the newly-arrived patrols, punctuated by Ink’s arrows as the changeling dodges the return volleys.
Eldan is going hand to hand with one of the soldiers. I drop Flamethrower, showering the foes with basic attacks from my staff. Remembering Speed of Light finally, I activate it, and the shower of arcane bolts becomes a barrage. Time seems to slow around me even as my mana dips to use the sustained spell. I am at Eldan’s side in an instant, casting Ela’s Touch on him, and in the moment of his enemy’s distraction, I swing my staff around, clubbing the elf on the head.
“Lithrial!”
At Teinath’s cry, I spin. It takes me a moment to see what’s happened through the confusion of horses dancing away from the fire and remaining patrol soldiers struggling to hold their weapons.
Ink is down. The changeling lies in a heap, thankfully away from the growing blaze, and Aigen is grappling with a pair of Ragan’s other soldiers, leaving Teinath vulnerable to Ragan, who advances on him like he plans to exact vengeance.
I cast Starfire at Ragan’s exposed back.
When it hits, he lurches forward, and Teinath hits him with what looks like a boulder to the chest in response, sending the hulking man lurching back toward me.
A horn sounds in the distance.
Ragan turns to look at me, a slow smile on his face. “I’ll enjoy this, elf. I’ll take you to the Disciples myself.”
We have to get out of here. Now. I see the harts now, hovering at the edge of the forest, waiting and ready to bear us out of here.
“Dar!” I call out, not bothering to look for her. “We need to move!”
I cast Forked again, knowing it will barely touch Ragan himself, but it tears through the remaining soldiers here, and out of the corner of my eye, Aigen beheads both of her foes while their bodies spasm with lightning leaping from their shoulders.
Ragan has turned to face me. He is not worried. Two horns call out to each other. They are closer. A third crafts a high, warning response.
The man seems to resist almost all magic. I cast Aura of Deigith directly at him, and while frost crawls across his armor, he gives a shiver of annoyance, reaching up to snap off the shaft of the arrow in his shoulder.
Beyond him, Dar and Eldan are getting Ink onto the back of a hart. Aigen stalks toward Ragan, but a warning shout from Teinath pulls her away reluctantly to climb onto her own mount.
The horns sound again. I can feel the barest whisper of the patrols’ approach in the ground. Desperate, with Ragan between me and my companions, between me and my escape, I throw Icicle at him.
For a moment I think it hasn’t done anything, but he is already chilled from the Aura of Deigith, and his step slows to a sluggish thud, his face contorting numbly with frustration. Beneath the collar of his armor, a sickly green web is spreading up the side of his neck.
I don’t wait to puzzle it out. The fire is licking up at my boots now, and I run right through it. There is no clear path through the burning field. Just beyond it, Teinath waits, and he gives me a strong hand up onto a golden-furred hart I haven’t ridden before.
“Ride!” I yell, and Dar whistles, a ululating sound that spurs the animals into action.
Something thumps into my lower back.
I scream.
Twenty-Nine
“Lithrial!” Teinath’s voice is urgent and frightened.
“Keep going!” I barely get the words out through gritted teeth, clinging to the hart’s reins even though every beat of her hooves on the ground sends shocks of pain through me.
“Hold on.” Dar is beside me, easily controlling her mount with her knees alone. “He threw a knife at you. Fucking impossible shot. If you hadn’t already been moving, it would have hit you in the spine.”
A low, constant growl is pouring from my throat, underlined by a groan.
I start to reach for my mana, and Dar barks out a “Don’t!”
The motion of the animal beneath me is making me sick with the pain.
“I need to stop,” I say.
“Stop and we’ll all die,” Dar tells me flatly. “I’m going to take the knife out. As soon as I tell you, cast your healing spell, but you have to wait until it’s out or it’ll be worse.”
The understanding sends a sickly chill through me. My stomach churns.
“Do it,” I say.
In spite of his exhaustion, Eldan is bringing up the rear, making sure Ink is in front of him. I look at him in gratitude, trying not to think about what is about to happen.
“Breathe,” says Dar.
She and her hart are close enough to me that I can feel their body heat, her leg brushing mine with every step the animals take.
The blade in my side jolts as she grabs it, and I scream again, spitting.
Dar yanks, pulling backward and slowing her mount. “Now!”
I fumble for my mana through the agony shooting sharp sparks through my back, casting Ela’s Touch.
At first I think it hasn’t worked, but the pain eases off, and I almost sob, collapsing forward.
Dar commands the harts with another series of ululating whistles, falling back to talk to Eldan.
We ride.
It is morning before we allow the animals to slow. I am drained of mana, drained of all my energy, and the wound in my back is still a pulsing, throbbing epicenter of pain.
We choke down some food. Ink is awake, though dazed and concussed, and in spite of me using Ela’s Touch on all of us to keep us going through the night—it’s the only reason even the harts could carry us that long—the changeling isn’t at a hundred percent. Everyone is lathered and sore and about to drop.
We change mounts in the pre-dawn dimness, and I pity the new animals we’re each getting on. At least their fellows get a break after running all night. These ones are rewarded with the weight of riders after that.
My mind won’t seem to clear. Teinath tries to talk to me a few times, but I barely hear what he’s saying.
“Lithrial.”
I do hear my name, and I look around. Who’s talking to me?
There is a panicked yell.
I collapse into nothing.
“She’s waking up!”
I don’t know whose voice it is.
There are new smells around me, something bright and clean, nutty.
“Let me see her.”
That voice I know, though the urgency and panic in it is unexpected.
“Ferelthin?” I open my eyes to see the man himself. Something gives way beside me, depressing the ground I’m lying on.
Not the ground. My bed. He’s sitting next to me on my bed. Above me is the vaulted ceiling of my palace chamber in Viathan.
Viathan?
“How—” I swallow, struggling to sit up. “Did I die? Where’s Apathan? The refugees?”
There’s a chuckle from the other side of the bed, and it’s Teinath, standing there.
“The refugees mostly scattered, but they’re making their way here,” Ferelthin says. “I haven’t had word of your apathan. Everyone knows to look out for him, though. If he’s half the survivor you are, he’ll make it in his time.”
