Chapter 3 #2
Each step, she swore she saw the shadows gathering between the trees. The scar on her face seemed to squirm in the cold, like it sensed the danger that was oncoming if they didn’t make it to the warfront before dark.
To the safety of camp.
But what was safety, she wondered, on the front lines?
They battled in the sky, the mages and their eagles taking the brunt of the attacks from the raphons.
They battled on the snow, too, people just like her who were untrained for war, ripped from their homes so they could defend Lordach against a monster.
A monster who made monsters.
At least, that was what she’d always heard of the Acolyte. And suddenly she was terrified, for though she’d held pieces of parchment written this far north, though she’d been in constant communication with garrison after garrison across Lordach …
She realized she knew nothing of war.
She squeezed the ring on her thumb, a reminder that she had once been loved.
But now her chest ached, and it was not from the cold or the breathlessness in her tired lungs.
In this world, she was now well and truly alone.
The sound of the chains, of boots shuffling across snow, thrummed in time with Ezer’s heart.
Her legs began to tremble until she feared she might not be able to take another step. Her ankles screamed, weak from years of little use beneath her shackles.
Gods, the air was thin here.
Her head had begun to spin.
A mile, Arawn said.
It felt like ten.
She glanced at the trees.
The birds would normally be there, hopping along the branches the moment they sensed Ezer’s presence. They were always curious, often following her for a while before they got brave enough to soar down and introduce themselves with a clever little chirp.
But there were no birds here.
The forest had gone still.
And utterly silent.
So silent, the back of her neck prickled.
‘Ezer.’
The wind suddenly sighed her name.
Not now, she thought.
Because the wind only whispered when danger was near.
She glanced over her shoulder to see a prisoner stumble and fall from the exhaustion and cold.
‘Argh!’ One of the others grunted from his spot in line, as they tried to haul the fallen back to his feet. ‘Cut him loose. At this rate, we’ll never—’
‘Silence,’ Arawn hissed as he spun.
His eyes were wide.
And Ezer knew why when she saw the fresh trail of blood a few paces ahead.
It dripped down the hillside like red ribbons.
‘Ezer.’
The wind whistled past her ears as she followed its sound and vaguely catalogued the carnage of the Redguard Arawn had sent ahead to the Citadel, mere minutes ago.
They were all dead.
‘Avane save us,’ a prisoner breathed.
‘Come quickly, Odaeis,’ said another.
‘I said silence,’ Arawn hissed.
He was the only Sacred. The only one with magic here, and …
A stick cracked.
Arawn winced.
And Ezer realized, with a fresh wave of terror, that the prince was afraid.
‘Ezerrrr.’
The wind tickled her ears, sighed her name like a subtle breath.
It had come from her left.
She spun and looked at the trees, where the shadows had too swiftly gathered.
How long until the sun fell?
Minutes, maybe. The pink sky had turned as red as blood.
‘Ezer.’
Now the whisper came from her right.
She spun, eyes wide, for it had never been so hard to follow. As if it were coming from every direction all at once.
Another crack.
‘Move,’ Arawn mouthed. He looked back at the group, narrowing his eyes. ‘Now.’
He’d only made it two steps ahead of her when the wind whispered, ‘Down! Get down!’
She didn’t hesitate.
She dove, narrowly avoiding the monster that suddenly swept from the treetops, its claws aimed to kill.
A shadow wolf.
She slammed against Arawn, wrapping her arms around his middle. Her weight alone wasn’t enough to topple him, but his body seemed to drop on instinct.
She felt the whoosh of cold air over her head as the shadow wolf just barely missed them.
Felt the snag as its awful black claws swiped through her hood instead of Arawn’s neck.
The prince hit the snow and rolled, his strong arms wrapped around her until they settled.
‘Stay down!’ he growled.
He practically slung her from him as he came back up to his feet, his sword already out. His muscles had hardened like honed steel, the warrior she’d imagined him to be.
And the wolf …
Ezer watched in horror as it slid and whirled around in the snow, then threw back its snout and howled.
The sound gave wings to her panic. She could barely breathe as a howl answered from behind her, and through the trees …
Oh gods, oh gods.
Another shadow wolf.
It was canine in shape, with membranous, bat-like wings sprouting from its muscular shoulders.
Its limbs were elongated, as if they had stretched to twice the size of a normal wolf.
Its dark fur practically rippled, as if it were truly made of shadows.
She could just barely see the forest through its body …
and yet it was a solid creature before her, its enormous jagged claws digging into the snow.
She couldn’t even gasp in terror as she stared at the very creature that had killed her mother and father and left its calling card on Ezer’s face.
The world swam in and out of focus.
‘Minder!’
Her mind snapped back into existence as Arawn tossed something at her feet.
A small silver dagger.
‘Word of advice?’ Arawn said over his shoulder. ‘Go for the throat.’
He whispered something – an invocation – and the runes upon his own blade suddenly flared to life.
Fire.
That was orange fire on his sword, blazing like it was dipped in oil.
The scar on his face glowed in its light, stark against his skin.
His other hand lifted, and the wolves backed a step away, as if bracing for the inferno of the Firemages, a legend in its own right. Sure enough, a whirlpool of blue began to stir in his palm, glittering orange at its edges.
Magic.
True magic, the likes of which she had never seen.
She leaned forward, hope filling her lungs.
But just before he struck … the light went out.
‘Now would be the time to run,’ Arawn said over his shoulder. He grimaced, as if in pain. ‘Go!’
Ezer scooped up the dagger and whirled towards the procession behind them, hoping to find safety in the crowd of prisoners and Redguard.
Just in time to see three other shadow wolves soar down from the trees and attack.
This was how she would die.
Not by old age, imprisoned in the tallest tower in Rendegard, but by the claws of a winged monster in the north.
She stood frozen, a single dagger in her hand as the world collapsed around her. Blood stained the snow in splatters that looked like wet paint.
You’re in shock, a voice told her. It sounded like Ervos. You must run, Little Bird.
Run or die.
Arawn’s runed blade collided with the first monster’s neck. It screeched as black blood sprayed, and that blood turned to shadows – living shadows – that went slithering back to the wolf, filling the hole in its neck.
Impossible.
She screamed as it leapt for him.
But when the prince lifted his hand, ready to send a blast of fire towards it …
Nothing happened.
The fire in his palm had fizzled out, only a tendril of smoke in its place.
Kill it! she wanted to scream at him. Use your magic! Why are you stopping now?
The wolf snarled, and they went down in a tangle of shadows and limbs.
To her right, a monster leapt upon the Redguard at the back of the pack. A male, whose shout was cut off instantly as the beast gutted him with two clean swipes of its front claws.
The wolf shook its head as it began to feast upon his innards, growling and slinging blood.
‘Get out of here!’ Arawn yelled to Ezer as he stood. Blood dripped down his arm, but he was still alive.
The second wolf growled and lunged, but he batted it back with his sword.
Hope glimmered within as he murmured another invocation and tried to call that magic to his palm.
It was like an ember fighting for life against the wind.
It began … and again it fizzled away.
Like the gods had heard his invocation … and said no.
The prince took to the sword instead, swinging his masterfully glowing blade. A wolf leapt and he spun, using his momentum to behead it in one enormous swipe.
This time, the shadows did not regather.
But another wolf appeared to take its place.
Ezer scurried backwards, her back up against an aspen tree. The solid bark was the only thing keeping her rooted to the spot. With trembling hands, she held Arawn’s dagger before her, knowing how useless it would be against the wolves.
She’d seen six Redguard die in a matter of seconds.
Now their bodies were spread across the snow like a garland.
The other beasts down the path killed and killed, as if driven by some carnal need to end every living thing they faced.
Ezer whimpered.
‘Please,’ she begged whatever gods were listening, if they dared turn an ear to a woman like her at all.
She had no power to help.
She could do nothing but watch the others die.
Something touched her shoulder.
She screamed, and held out Arawn’s dagger, expecting another shadow wolf.
But it was only a raven. She could have wept at the sight of it as it landed on her shoulder, a balm to her soul, for now at least she would not die alone.
An omen would be with her.
The raven cawed once before it suddenly nipped at her ear. The pain was enough to shake her for a moment.
‘Stop it,’ she hissed, but she realized now that her shock was gone.
Her eyesight was clear again as she looked up. Arawn had run down the hill, where the wolves now circled the living as if they would pick them all off, one by one. Somehow, three more had arrived. Shadows seemed to drip from their bodies as they snarled, their maws steaming with hot mortal blood.
They’d kill them all.
And then they’d come for her next.
You will stand now, Ezer told herself. You will find your own strength and run before you end up like your mother and father.
But I’m afraid, Ezer thought back.
Now it wasn’t her voice that answered, but her uncle’s deep timbre.
Who cares, Little Bird?
Do it afraid.
The raven leapt from her shoulder.
‘Wait,’ Ezer whimpered.
She stood on trembling legs, reaching for it as it soared off into the snowy forest, a little black blur. She took one last glance at Arawn, could see him swinging his sword amidst the howls and snarls.
He’d dragged her all the way to the north, where he led her right to death’s doorstep.
I saved you, Prince, she thought. Consider my debts to you repaid.
Numbly, she turned and followed the corvid into the woods.
The trees blurred around her. There could be a monster behind any one of them, a shadow wolf hungry to devour her, and yet she kept walking.
She had to get away, to hide and find safety somewhere until she could come up with a clear plan.
Flakes danced in Ezer’s vision. Fog clouded the air before her as her lungs heaved. She paused to catch her breath, the sounds of the chaos fading.
For a moment, it was silent. Almost peaceful.
Perhaps the others were all dead.
Overhead, the raven blasted a warning call.
‘Ezer,’ said the wind again. ‘Run.’
Dread filled her bones, for she knew what was to come.
A stick cracked behind her, and she spun, holding Arawn’s dagger as two shadow wolves leaped from between the trees.