CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Garok hadn’t been certain what to expect, but the complete destruction of the Mists was more than he’d dreamed possible. Triumph filled him with exultation.
“They’re down!” one of the other Primages whispered. The whisper grew quickly to a racous, celebratory hurrah. “The Mists are down!”
Garok wasn’t a Mage to waste time on self-congratulation.
Getting through the Mists was only the first step.
Reaching Dharsa, the core of the hated Fey homeland, was his goal.
He’d been suspicious when Maur assigned him this mission, but he intended to make the most of it.
When he returned to Eld in triumph as the Mage who’d brought down the Faering Mists and conquered Dharsa, even those Primages still hesitant to turn from Maur would look at him with new eyes.
“Archers to the fore!” he commanded. He paced across the rubble-strewn ground as the archers hurried to step forward. “Take aim! Fire!”
Bowstrings twanged in unison. Mages summoned the wind as a dark rain of sel’dor arrows, each modified to hold a chemar in the shaft, soared up the mountainside and across the now unprotected peak, disappearing on the opposite side.
Before the last arrow disappeared from view, Garok opened the Well of Souls and the Eld leapt in.
The portal closed quickly on the heels of the last man.
Within the darkness a fresh array of glowing blue lights lit the Well—the dozens of chemar that had found their targets lay before them, mere steps away.
“Primages, you know what to do.” The Eld split into a dozen groups, each racing for a different spot of blue light inside the Well.
They opened the portals using the chemar, and the instant the portals opened, archers fired more arrows through, while the Mages spun magic to carry the missiles much farther and faster than bowstring alone could have managed.
And so it went. Portals opened. Archers fired. On to the next portal. As they crossed the last line of the snowy volcanic peaks, a roar greeted one of the opening portals and a jet of flame lit up the interior of the Well, burning an entire company of Mages to ash.
The tairen had come to defend their territory. But the chemar were too many and the tairen too few. The Eld advanced with swift purpose towards the heart of the Fading Lands, the shining city on the hills.
Dharsa.
The Fading Lands ~ Dharsa
“The Mists are down! The Mages are coming.” Marissya clutched the slight swell of her unborn child as she delivered the news to the Massan.
“Sybharukai says they are using the Well to move across the Plains of Corunn. She doesn’t know their numbers, but they’re moving too fast, in too many directions.
There aren’t enough of the tairen to stop them.
We must ward the city, quickly before it’s too late. ”
“Down?” Yulan regarded her in disbelief. “The Mists can’t be down!”
To his credit, Tenn didn’t waste time doubting her word or hesitating in indecision.
?Fey, to arms! Defend the city! The Eld have broken through the Mists.
? To Marissya, he said, “You and Dax take the fellanas and the truemates to the Hall of Truth and Healing. Prepare to defend yourselves in case the Eld break through.”
“What about you and Venarra and the rest of the Massan?”
Tenn’s expression turned grim. “When we banished Rain, his duties fell to us. That includes the duty of defending the Fading Lands. Go. Quickly. Venarra, gather the shei’dalins. Nuri, Yulan, come with me.”
The Fading Lands ~ Pass of Revan Oreth
“They did it.” Kieran stared at the jagged, snow-capped peaks of the Rhakis mountains, visible now for the first time in a millennium. “Those scorching Elden rultsharts did it, Kiel. They brought down the Mists.”
?Fey!? The cry rang out across the new Warrior’s Path. ?Into the pass! Defend the Fading Lands!?
Stone-faced and fire-eyed, Fey warriors shouted, “Miora felah ti’Feyreisen! Miora felah ti’Feyreisa!” and ran into the narrow, rocky pass of Revan Oreth. Kiel and Kieran ran with them.
The pass was many miles long, but as the Fey approached the last third of the trail through the mountains they heard the sound of rocks and pebbles tumbling down the mountainside, accompanied by a strange, clattering that echoed in the canyon, like the hard mandibles of millions of stone-shell beetles clicking madly.
?Fey! Weaves at the ready! Steel is useless. Hundred-fold weaves, or straight Earth and Fire only. Cutting them in half only grows two of them, so have a care. Light be with you, my brothers!?
The clattering noise grew louder, until it was nearly deafening. The Fey rounded a sharp curve in the pass, and the sight that awaited them made Kieran’s blood freeze in his veins.
Coming towards them at an astonishing pace and in numbers the likes of which he’d never seen, were creatures.
Thousands upon tens of thousands of creatures with grayish-white bodies and bald, eyeless heads.
They looked vaguely and grotesquely manlike, and entirely terrifying.
As they neared, he could see the wet shine of their sluglike skins, the round, needle-filled holes of their green foaming mouths, the razor-sharp spines of their grasping, clawed hands and feet.
That was the clicking noise. The sounds of those clawed hands and feet scrabbling across rock with their darting speed. Some ran upright along the narrow path, but most raced on the sides of the mountain, covering the sheer cliff faces of the gorge like a monstrous swarm of beetles.
The first lines of Fey tried to stand their ground, spinning hundredfold weaves, filling the pass with blazing magic.
But the revenants were too many. For each one they destroyed, ten more were there to take its place.
The revenants reached the Fey lines and began leaping off the mountainside into the thick of the Fey.
Screams broke out as needle-filled mouths and acid skin ripped and dissolved shining Fey flesh.
“Earth masters! Bring down the mountains!”
Earth masters combined their weaves, tearing the sides of the mountain down and sending avalanches into the pass, burying the revenants beneath countless tons of broken rock.
For a chime, the Fey began to breathe easier. But then came the sound of shifting rock. The rubble moved. Clawed hands reached up from the shattered stone into the open air.
“Fey! Retreat! Retreat!”
Celieria ~ Orest
Rain soared across the sky, banking rapidly from left to right, soaring and diving. Another of those scorching Rainseeking bowcannon bolts was on his tail. How many of the flaming things did the Eld have?
Below him, Fey dead littered a battlefield crawling with revenants.
?Shei’tani, how’s your aim with a Fey’cha?? ?Getting better by the chime.?
He curled back his lip and gave a growling chuff of tairen laughter. ?That’s what I wanted to hear. If I fly low enough, do you think you can grab some of those Fey’cha harnesses with a weave?? ?I know one way to find out.?
He chuffed again and blew smoke. Flying with her in battle had shown him an entirely different side of his shei’tani.
Gone was the frightened, nightmare-stricken girl, gone too was the strong and powerful shei’dalin healer.
In their place was a fierce Fey warrior—one with a good eye for strategy, unhesitating courage, and a deadpan sense of humor that would put Gillandaris vel Jendahr to shame.
?Then let’s find out. And weave a shield around your hands in case the red Fey’cha slip their sheaths. There may be Shadar horn in your bones now, but I don’t want to put it to the test.?
He felt the brief burst of magic.
?Done,? she said. ?Let’s go.?
He dove. Behind him, the bowcannon bolt followed suit.
His wings spread wide and they soared low over the revenants.
Fire boiled from his muzzle, incinerating a wide swath of the hideous creatures.
Bright, blazing weaves shot out to his left and right, aiming just beyond the perimeter of his fire, and a collection of Fey’cha harnesses lifted up into the air.
?Got them.?
?All right. Then here’s what we’re going to do.? He sang her the images of what he had in mind in tairen speech.
?Can you manage that?? ?I think so. Let’s give it a try.?
Rain put on a burst of speed and soared up, heading straight for Orest. A frenzy of bowcannon bolts launched from the ramparts, but he flamed the incoming, rolled and dived to avoid those that survived his flame and kept to his heading.
On his back, Ellysetta flung out spinning weaves of Air and Fire to clear a path.
As they crossed the walls of Lower Orest, Rain veered sharply left then wheeled around back to the right and came in nearly parallel to the mountains.
On the ramparts of Upper Orest, the bowcannon were loaded, bowstrings cranked into firing position. Just before the sheer mountain cliff gave way to the stone ramparts of the upper city, Rain put on a burst of speed and said, ?Now, shei’tani.?
Ellysetta launched from his back in an Air-powered leap.
She shot up into the air, her own forward motion and magic carrying her over the tops of the cannoneers and Mages gathered on the ramparts.
Red Fey’cha spit from her fingertips in a hail of death.
Below her, Rain engulfed the battery in a boiling jet of tairen flame, consuming cannon and cannoneers alike.
He Changed into Mist at the last chime so the bolt that had been following him plowed into the open portal to the Well of Souls, taking half a dozen screaming Mages and Eld with it.
He changed back into tairen form in time for Ellysetta to land securely in the saddle.
His wings angled sharply and they shot up in a near vertical climb, soaring past the falls of Orest, leaving smoldering fires and corpses in their wake.