The early morning sun breached the wall of clouds that constantly obscured the sky just enough to appear as a waxy blotch in the far distance. Twisted birds that may once have been owls glided over the landscape, returning to their nests with the coming of the light. Silent shadows moved through the roaming mists that surrounded Lanstiro. Slowly they began to meet up around a black barked tree that stood in solitude at the centre of an open patch of ground.

“Are we all clear on what we have to do?” asked Trey as he adjusted the black cloak that he was wearing over his armour.

The whole group, other than Htaed and Lily, were wearing the shadowy cloaks that Htaed had tailored with a grace and speed that stood at odds with his powerful build. Shrouded in darkness, the group could move with the stealth that shining armour could not provide.

Each person nodded in unison, nervousness and determination playing across Trey, Billy and Dawn’s faces while Zak and Lily looked like they could barely contain their excitement. Liam just looked emotionless as always. Htaed looked off to the distance, his eyes unfocused.

“We will travel together for another five minutes then Lily and I will move to the main gate while you find your own way in,” said Htaed.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright just marching up and knocking on their front door?” asked Dawn. Concern edged into her voice.

“We’ve faced worse,” Htaed said with a shrug.

“Yep. They don’t stand a chance!” chirped Lily.

The group moved on through the marsh lands that surrounded the last mile around the tainted fortress that was Lanstiro. The closer to their destination they came, the more barren and harsh their surroundings became. Then as suddenly as it had engulfed them, the fog ended. A mere fifty foot in front of them stood Lanstiro, towering over the group like a monstrous nightmare. Its walls were shielded with black iron sheets that were firmly fitted to the thick stone of the original structure and an uncountable amount of sharpened metal spikes rose from its surface like static hair. Its upper peaks jabbed out toward the heavens like daggers. Forukks patrolled the walls, crude crossbows swaying lazily as the creatures marched back and forth like guard dogs.

“Wait here while we get their attention,” announced Htaed as he and Lily strode off toward the huge, skull encrusted doors of the outer wall. The teens obeyed and watched from the edge of the mist.

The two warriors reached the doors without hindrance. Forukk guards gathered above the gate but made no move to attack. Htaed knocked on the steel-plated wood with such force that dents appeared in the metal and the sound reverberated throughout the ghostly structure. Without warning an arrow shot from the battlement aimed right at Htaed’s chest. Without even looking up he deflected it with a flick of his wrist.

“Come on out and try to end my life, you lowly dogs!” Htaed boomed.

With exaggerated slowness the doors began to open. All was silent as the door eased open then stopped half way. From inside ten Forukks swaggered out growling fiercely at their guests.

“They’re underestimating us. I hate it when people do that!” snapped Lily as she leapt forwards to meet the Forukks. She threw the chakram in her right hand and it struck the lead Forukk in the throat. She slashed at the next Forukk as they met then spun around, grabbing her other chakram from the Forukk’s corpse as she tripped another creature then severed its head.

Htaed had followed up behind Lily. Three Forukks bounded at him with weapons at the ready. With one horizontal cut all three fell to the ground dead. The last four Forukks were killed just as quickly.

The fortress door fully opened and a stream of monsters came out to face the two warriors. Well over a hundred surrounded them.

“They’re still underestimating us,” shrieked Lily.

“Not for long,” sighed Htaed as he motioned to Trey and the others to go.

With a vicious roar from every Forukk present, hell broke loose.

* * *

“He’s given the signal,” informed Trey to the others. “Let’s go.”

After checking that the enemy’s attention was elsewhere, the group scurried from the mist to the imposing wall. They could not brush up against the stone for extra cover as sharp spikes protruded from it at every angle. They skirted the wall until they found what they were looking for.

About three quarters the way around the fortress was what Htaed had told them to look out for. Out of every spike that covered the black walls, only one had a crimson skull shoved onto its end. This was the sign of a secret entrance according to the giant man. How he knew no one could guess but it was the only chance they had.

Unluckily for the teens, the skull was near the top of the outer wall, with no purchase to grab other than the sharpened metal. Zak volunteered to climb up first and pull the spike that was actually a cleverly hidden lever. He very soon regretted this choice. Every spike had an edge like a razor and while they were effective for climbing the wall, Zak’s hands soon became a bloody mess despite his plate-backed gloves and his sandals quickly disintegrated.

The others watched in horror as Zak neared the lever. Blood dripped down from his cuts, splashing the ground below him. He reached out with a shaking hand, grabbing the lever and slowly pushed it up. A small section of the wall opened up and snapped to the side like a mousetrap. Zak only just avoided being crushed by flipping off of the wall and landing roughly on the floor next to Dawn. From that height it was a miracle that he had survived the fall, let alone avoided breaking any bones. Trey was sure that if it had been anyone else then they would have been too slow to escape the trap.

Zak shouted out in pain as he held his left leg. Dawn inspected it and announced “It’s sprained.”

“Looks like we’re all going to have to climb up to get inside,” Liam pointed out.

“You saw what happened to Zak. Even without the fall he got all cut up. If we try then we’ll be half dead before we even get inside,” argued Dawn. “I have slight healing abilities but we won’t have time to fully reform the skin. Even that is pointless though as I couldn’t use my healing powers when my own hands are damaged. It’s not like I can effectively heal myself.”

“I can.” Everyone turned to Liam. He shrugged under the attention. “I learned to heal my own wounds so that I would never have to rely on others.”

“Could you heal us too?” Trey asked.

Liam shook his head. “I’ve never tried to heal others. I suppose that I could probably heal Dawn’s hands to the point where she can help the rest of you.”

“It’s the only way,” sighed Trey. “Zak, you ready for another climb?”

“No,” he replied to everyone’s surprise. He had never shown fear, weakness or even common sense. He was up for anything. “We won’t be able to hold our weapons once we’re up. Yes, Liam and Dawn can heal us but then they will be too drained to fight. We lose either way.”

“We don’t have any choice!” snapped Billy. “Stop moaning and just get on with it.” Without waiting for a response Billy began to climb.

After the shock on Zak’s face passed a new respect for Billy entered his eyes then he too began to climb. Liam followed them both without a word, leaving Trey and Dawn at the bottom. Trey began to climb but stopped when he realised Dawn was not moving. She looked terrified as she watched blood come down around her like rain.

“Are you coming?” asked Trey. She shakily looked up at Trey, then at the other boys and finally at the entrance. “Don’t worry. Sure it hurts but it’s the only way. Its either carry on forwards or give up and go back.”

Dawn made a sound that was a mixture of a laugh and a sigh. “Trey, I’m not scared of pain. I’m kind of afraid of heights,” she stuttered with an embarrassed look.

Trey thought for several moments before holding out his hand. “You have nothing to fear. We’re all here for you.”

Still looking unconvinced but not wanting to look weak she accepted his hand. She would have held on longer if they both did not need two hands to climb.

“Just don’t look down,” said Trey with a hiss of pain that he tried to turn into a nervous laugh. It did not seem to help.

It took less time than they had expected for them all to crawl into the tunnel. Once inside it was a tight fit, especially for Zak with his huge battle axe and dual katana. Luckily it was a very short tunnel that led to some kind of storage room. There was just enough space among the various boxes for all five teens to fit inside the room. There was no sign that the room had been used recently.

Liam sat crossed-legged and began to trace his index finger along the cuts of his left hand. After a few minutes he swapped hands. Once he was finished he wiped away the blood. There was not the slightest of marks upon either hand.

“What did you do?” Dawn all but gaped. She grabbed his hands to examine them thoroughly. “The skin should at least look raw. It looks like you never even had any wounds.”

Gently taking hold of Dawn’s shredded hands, Liam began to repeat the process. At the girl’s prompting he started to explain. “Most healers speed up the body’s natural regeneration, forcing what would take weeks to heal to take only minutes instead. The damage is still there for the most part. I…sort of…reverse the wound.”

“That shouldn’t be possible,” Dawn muttered. She studied her first hand in amazement. “It just doesn’t work like that.”

“If you say so,” Liam commented blandly. His hands continued to move smoothly but sweat beaded on his pale forehead. As soon as Dawn’s hands were unbroken skin once more, she set to work on patching up the others while Liam slumped against a crate to recover.

It took longer than Trey had hoped but eventually everyone was ready to continue. Trey, Billy and Zak’s hands were still sore though while Dawn and Liam were weary from their work. They would have to suffice. No more time could be wasted.

They cautiously climbed down a ladder that led from the room they had entered to a much larger storage room. This one had been used recently.

“So, how are we going about all this?” asked Liam to no one in particular.

“I haven’t worked out the details yet but I think we should split up and search. We can cover a bigger area that way plus we have less chance of being discovered. We are all competent in a fight so we should be fine,” said Trey with forced optimism. “Stay safe and we’ll see each other when every slave is free.”

“You realise that there are so many flaws in this plan that it can’t possibly work,” sighed Liam.

“Like what?” asked Zak.

“Like where do we meet up, how long we have until we meet up, how to find our way around, where to get food and water, where to sleep-”

“Okay. We get the point. The plan is a little sketchy but it’s all we have. We’ll meet back in here at sundown with anyone we’ve freed. Sound good?”

“Not really,” complained Liam

“Dibs on the castle!” said Zak.

“Let’s go.”

They exited the storage building then separated, heading out to search their individual areas.

Previous – Chapter 45. Strange Hosts.

Next – Chapter 47. Prophets and Protectors.

“Holy Sprite!” murmured Billy as he gazed at the blood soaked woman.

She wore a knee length yellow skirt, knee high socks of pink and white stripes, a white tank top and steel vambraces etched with rabbits. Her purple hair hung down her back in a ponytail. In her left hand was a chakram in the design of a deadly periwinkle flower. Another identical one hung at the right hand side of her waist. Her eyes were a fluorescent blue and she had a maniacal smile.

“So, you wanna die?” she giggled.

“Not really,” began Trey but he was interrupted by Zak.

“Bring it on!” he shouted as he readied his axe with an equally insane grin.

“Zak calm down. We’re not here to fight, let alone with a person who killed that thing,” Trey said as he motioned to the Forukk at her feet.

“What do you mean you’re not here to fight? Everyone is here to fight. Fighting is what everyone does. If you’re not here to fight then why are you here?” said the women at twice the speed normal people spoke.

“Why should we tell you?” said Billy.

“‘Cos’ I’m gonna beat you if you don’t tell me,” snickered the woman.

“It’s five against one, we have the advantage,” stated Dawn in her best attempt at calm diplomacy.

“That’s what the Zelo Empire said: ‘It’s one against ten thousand, we have the advantage.’ It never did them any good,” said the woman with a laugh.

“We’re heading to Lanstiro to free the people of Pastrino. If you want to try and stop us, we will fight you and we will win,” said Trey.

“Invading the fortress of an army of Forukks with only five kids? You’re my kind of people. That sort of battle might be fun. I’m Lily by the way,” said the woman as she attached the chakram back onto her belt.

“We don’t want to get into a fight. We’re getting in, finding the slaves and getting them out,” Dawn explained tensely. The woman seemed to be getting to Dawn in some way.

Lily laughed hard holding her ribs. “You expect to sneak into the enemy main base, find every slave in a huge area that’s crawling with Forukks, then have a mass exodus back out again, all without being noticed?”

“Pretty much,” smiled Zak.

“Sounds fun. I still prefer a frontal assault though,” said Lily as she began to skip down the hill, heading south. “C’mon. You’ve gotta meet Htaed.”

“Do we follow?” asked Dawn.

“She is strong,” commented Liam. “She’ll be a big help in enemy territory.”

“Agreed,” said Trey.

They followed her along the cliff for ten minutes when she suddenly hopped off the edge. As the group rushed over to the side they were relieved to hear her shout up for them to join her. Peering over the edge they saw a large ledge ten foot below with a small house perched at the right hand side. Grass covered the ledge giving it a peaceful feel.

As they climbed down to the platform, the idyllic scene around them was shattered as they noticed that what they thought had been a fence was really hundreds of pikes circling the lawn, impaled Forukk heads festering at the tips.

“Wait here while I get Htaed,” called the woman as she bounded into the cottage. It was a simple building of carved stone blocks and thin wooden planks covered in a layer of a pale, clay like substance.

A few moments later she jumped back out dragging a giant of a man behind her. His matted black hair rested across his broad shoulders, baggy trousers swayed around his legs in the wind and he wore a torn coat over his bare chest. He had no shoes. In each hand he held a great sword as tall and wide as Trey. His face was hard and scars crisscrossed all of his visible skin.

“What brings such young people out into these forsaken lands?” spoke the man in a soft voice that contrasted with his brutal appearance. No one seemed able to respond. He looked far scarier than the Forukks and his very presence spoke of death and destruction. His calm demeanour and soft voice just added confusion.

Liam finally answered his question. “We go to free the slaves that the Forukks are holding captive.”

Htaed cocked an eyebrow, whether in suspicion or amusement no one could tell. “Come inside to eat and rest. You will not get another chance after this point.” All five teens made no move to go inside the house. They were with two complete strangers who seemed far from normal and were very powerful. Any number of traps could be inside the cottage.

Lily scoffed at the group for their suspicion. “You’re underestimating us. I hate it when people do that. We hate those Forukks so we obviously won’t be working with them and if we wanted you dead you’d be dead by now. We don’t use traps and deception like cowards.”

The group was not particularly reassured but the woman was right, they could have killed them whenever they felt like it and they certainly did not like the Forukks, the skewered heads were a testament to that. Cautiously Trey took the first step over the threshold and looked around.

The whole inside was just one large room. A hammock hung at either end of the room and a plain wooden table sat at the centre between the two. A small fire flickered in the fireplace behind the table, opposite from the door. Other than two old chairs and a cupboard there was nothing else in the house. Once everyone was inside the house became rather crowded. Htaed offered Dawn a seat and Lily took the other leaving all the men to stand.

“I believe we have a lot to discuss,” said Htaed. “We must be quick with words though as within the next few days the slaves will be spread so thin throughout enemy territory that it will be impossible to find them all.”

“What’s to discuss?” asked Billy. “We know what we are doing. The only question is will you help us and that only needs a one word answer.”

“If you think it is that simple then you really will need help. Five children cannot invade an enemy fortress and hope to survive.”

“We aren’t children, we’re young adults,” stated Zak. “Anyway, Lily looks only a few years older than us and if what she says is true, she can survive anywhere.”

Htaed looked thoughtful for a moment. “Lily is… special. She is a lot older than she looks.”

“Whatever. We’re still going whether we stand a chance or not,” Trey concluded.

“We aren’t going to stop you. We are just saying that you need a distraction while you sneak around,” Htaed said.

“You mean-”

“Yep! Me and Htaed are gonna kick some Forukk butt while you lot scurry around like mice,” chirped Lily, barely containing her excitement.

“Anyway, eat up and rest for the remainder of the day. Once the morning comes we will set off. Lily and I will knock on their front door while you go around the back.”

“Sounds good to me,” said Trey as he held out his hand to the warrior.

Htaed shook his hand, the coarse appendage fully encasing Trey’s, then they began to eat the strange food that had been placed upon the table while they had been talking. As they rested, Htaed filled them in on his plan and discussed all that he knew of the Forukks and of the city itself.

Previous – Chapter 44. Torn from Home.

Next – Chapter 46. Lanstiro.

Heavy darkness stifled every sight and sound. The air was icily cold and the ground was a mush of foul smelling mud. There was little room for a man to move, the walls being tightly pressed and the stone lid leaving just enough room for a bent backed sitting position.

Blake Hunter sat within this claustrophobic dugout with his head hung. His body ached but he paid it no mind. He had finally found Sarah after all of these years and Zendek had taken her straight from him before he could even try to make amends to the woman. She blamed him for leaving her, hated him for something that had made his life hell. Anger and depression flooded through his weary body.

Why did everything have to turn out like it had, he asked himself. It was not like he had wanted any of this to happen. After Dill had left Pastrino, Blake had tried to continue his life. He had stayed with Sarah and they had many happy years, even when the Ghibok war occurred and he was drafted as a soldier. The mindless death and destruction of that conflict had changed his views about many things but through it all, Sarah had remained his entire world.

When Brian Delb eventually proposed to Laura it had set Blake’s mind racing with the realisation that all he wanted from life was to settle down with the woman that he loved. Dill had gotten it all wrong. Rank, money and skills meant nothing when you found happiness. At that moment he had committed to becoming a real man, taking responsibility of his life and following his heart. That meant marrying Sarah.

***

Blake dry-washed his hands nervously as he waited outside of the Delivery Exchange. He was dressed in his finest clothes and wore an ornate scabbard at his side with a sleek golden handle at its top. It would be any moment now.

The door opened and Sarah Sted stepped out of the building with a smile on her face. Her long brown hair was tied back in a ponytail and her athletic body was clad in the brown trousers and jacket of the Delivery Service. Seeing Blake in his finery, she raised an eyebrow as she approached him.

“You’re looking a little fancy for welcoming me home,” she said warmly. “You weren’t busy were you?”

They embraced, giving Blake time to think. He picked his words carefully. “No. I have something important to do later, but first I need to welcome you back properly.”

“Oh. I haven’t been gone that long have I?” Sarah mocked playfully. “Skigge is only a short ride down the Rike after all.”

Blake flashed her his best smile. “Any time away is long enough to miss you.” He took her hand and began to lead her down the street.

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” was all Blake told her. He led her along the long winding paths through the city that avoided the crowded areas and allowed them to soak in the few pleasant sights that the cramped buildings allowed.

They wandered for a while, Blake picking out their route with care so as not to reveal their destination too soon. The sun was out, the birds were singing and Blake was perfectly happy just to walk with Sarah at his side. Or he would have been if he was not on the verge of an internal panic attack.

Finally he could delay no longer. They crossed through a wide street where the bigger houses sat and emerged into the emerald fields of the North Park. It looked much the same as the day when Blake had fought to protect Sarah, what felt like an age ago. He had come out from that incident with two contrasting things: an ugly scar across his face and the first kiss from the woman whose hand he now held.

Sarah began to comment but Blake placed a gentle finger over her lips to silence her. They moved the short distance from the edge to the aged swings where a wicker basket sat waiting. With an exaggerated flourish, Blake offered the plank seat to Sarah. She took it with a small laugh.

“I’ve been thinking,” Blake began. “All of my life, my sword has been my soul. It was my life, both my hobby and my job. The war taught me that the sword wasn’t something I should devote my life to though.” He unfasten the scabbard from his belt then dropped to one knee, offering it to Sarah with both hands. She accepted it with a perplexed look, her eyes drifting between Blake’s face and the weapon.

“My soul is inside that scabbard. My heart, my dreams, my very essence rest in your hands. Draw it.”

Sarah closed her fingers around the hilt and pulled slowly. There was no sound of sliding metal. The handle pulled away from the scabbard without any sign of an attached blade. At first horror flooded her mind as she thought that she had somehow broken it but then her eyes caught a dazzling glint from the underside of the guard. Turning it so that the pommel faced the ground, she clapped a hand to her mouth to suppress a strangled gasp.

Held firmly within a cut section of the under guard where the blade should have connected was a golden band topped with a shining diamond that reflected Sarah’s startled face a hundred times over as she looked down upon it.

“Blake, it’s so…so beautiful.”

Blake cupped her hands in his and locked eyes with her. “I have given up the sword. You are now my soul and my one love. For you I’d give up anything, even my own life. I give myself to you forever. Sarah Sted, will you marry me?”

A curse escaped Blake’s lips as a sudden cramp in his calf cut off his chain of memories. He was snapped back into the cold harshness of the now. He tried to shuffle into a more comfortable position but it only made things worse.

He gave the lid that sealed him into the pit a hard but futile smack. He had been alone for far too long. After coming to this place, other slaves had come and died constantly, most not lasting more than a scant handful of years. Zendek, Maklar and the Forukks had been the only constants. Constants that he had wanted to kill each day for almost fifteen years.

His life back in Pastrino felt like an eon ago. The proposal had happened in the Spring, they had married in Autumn and he had found himself trapped in this hellhole during the winter. Time meant little in this ever shadowed land but by Blake’s reckoning it must be late Summer. It could not have been much longer until his fifteenth wedding anniversary. So many lost years.

Blake awoke suddenly in a cold sweat. It was dark and all was quiet except for the gentle breathing beside him. He turned his head slightly to see Sarah’s sleeping form. Realising that all was well and that it had been a simple nightmare that had awoken him, Blake tried to return to sleep but could not settle himself.

Not wanting to disturb his wife, he slid from the covers and padded softly to the window. His wife… Sprites, it still felt so strange to think of Sarah as such. Strange yet natural. She moved slightly in her sleep, snuggling deeper into the covers now that she did not have Blake’s warmth. It had almost been a full week since the ceremony that had forever joined them together. It still felt too beautiful to be anything but a dream but Blake knew that every second was pure reality.

Despite the calm of the night he felt restless, the lingering adrenaline of the nightmare still pulsing through his veins. The night was clear and a faint, cold breeze drifted lazily through the leaves outside of the window. Thousands of stars glinted and glimmered in the heavens above. This would be one of the last pleasant nights before the winter weather took a true hold upon the land.

With a last look at Sarah’s sleeping form he slipped on some clothes and crept from the room and down the spiralling stairs. The steps creaked with every movement but Blake quietened them as best as he could. It was an old house in much need of repair but it had cost him every Rhen just to buy it. It was only in his budget due to its close proximity to the bell tower. The view was worth the noise any day though; at least to Blake who could sleep through anything.

Shrugging on an old coat, he left the house and braced himself against the crisp cold. Without a destination in mind, Blake made his way north to the park. Visible beyond the decaying wall were the rolling forests where he had fought in the war. His legs yearned to keep moving so he did not linger long in the green grass before veering west. He thought about crossing the city to the poor shambles that clung to the northwest wall where his mentor Gravel Malma lived but decided against it. The elderly man had enough on his plate at the moment without Blake calling uninvited. He was going to be a grandfather soon after all. Blake had never seen him happier.

After a while he found himself at the large gap in the wall where a collapsing tunnel in the mines below had caused a section of the wall to crumble. The forest beyond was still while night birds squawked from the trees in an eerie song.

He remembered chasing through those trees after Dill. If only he had been stronger, things might have turned out differently. He had trained harder than ever after that, determined never to lose again.

Something moved in the undergrowth but Blake ignored it. The wild was full of nocturnal animals that would be scuffling around in search of food. His mind was elsewhere. Everything had been such a rush recently that it was a rare moment to have the quiet time to be able to think.

A sharp snapping of a twig drew his eyes back to the forest. The woodland beasts should not be venturing this close to the city. They usually kept well clear of the walls for fear of humans. Pulling himself from his musings, Blake scanned the dark slits between trunks for any sign of the creature. The word was that wolf activity was on the increase after all.

He could see nothing through the thick gloom and had just turned to begin his walk home when a shrill scream split the night air. Without a second’s thought he span and sprinted into the trees in the direction that the scream had come.

He had only travelled a short distance when he skidded to a halt beside a young girl who he recognised from the city. She was a small, fair haired girl named Clara Scuddle and was known for mischief and trouble. This was not the first time she had ventured away from the city in the night.

The girl stood rigid, her eyes wide with terror. She faced what Blake had at first glance passed off as a squat tree trunk but now that he looked he saw that it was a tall, thick-built humanoid creature with dark leather skin and horns. Its bestial snout and burning eyes darted between the girl and him, saliva dripping from its cruel fangs. A heavy iron mace was held in clawed hands.

It growled then leapt at him with inhuman speed. Blake dove to the side, rolling to his feet as the metal sphere impacted where he had been standing a moment before. The monster flowed into the next attack in a heartbeat and Blake back-stepped it by a hair’s breadth.

“Run!” he shouted at the girl as the mace swung at him again, this time from the side. Blake caught the creature’s arms and tried to hold them in place but his foe was far stronger than him. Through painfully gritted teeth he managed to yell again for Clara to flee.

Like a switch had been flicked in her head, the child screamed again and ran. The demon kneed Blake in the gut and moved to block the girl but Blake sprang onto its back. He pummelled the back of its helmet and slammed his fists into its ribs but he may as well have been attacking a statue. The beast peeled him away and smashed him into a tree. Blood flecked his lips.

The monster adjusted its grip so that it held Blake by the throat against the rough bark of the trunk. He hammered at its snout and kicked furiously at every part of the monster that he could reach but it made no difference. Waving his arms around wildly as his lungs began to burn, his hand scraped against a nearby branch.

Desperately he clutched at it and pulled, snapping the wood free. He grasped it like a dagger and rammed it into a fiery eye. The demon bellowed, dropping Blake as it staggered back in agony. It grabbed at the stick and tore it free of the socket, its eye still skewered upon the spike.

What he would give for his sword right now, Blake thought as he faced down the furious being. He could run. It was only a short distance to the city. He was confident that he could make it. But then this threat would continue to pose a risk to those who he knew and loved. No, as a city guard it was his job to protect Pastrino from any danger.

Taking a deep breath, Blake steadied his shaking body. He bent down and picked up a thick, club like branch from the leaf-strewn ground that was about the length of his forearm. The monster grunted in amusement. Blake offered it a grin of his own then whispered a chain of words to the wood.

Sudden flames flared into existence along the length of the makeshift weapon. The demon took a hasty step away when Blake swung it experimentally to adjust to the short stick’s balance. The beast regained its courage quickly though and rushed at Blake with a howl. Blake ran forward and slid under its bowed legs, jumping to his feet and smashing the branch into the back of the monster’s head before it could turn. It spun and Blake ducked under a wide horizontal swing before jabbing the flaming club up into the creature’s snout.

The smell of burnt flesh filled Blake’s nose. The demon reeled back, a hideous sound gushing from its maw. Seeing his chance to strike, Blake took it. As the monster back-peddled, Blake tacked it, sending them both to the ground. Fangs tried to snap at his face but Blake managed to manoeuvre the branch and shoved it down the monster’s throat. The beast writhed for several moments then became still.

Panting, Blake rolled off of his fallen foe. He had no time to fully recover his breath though. The Lord needed informing of such a threat lurking outside of his walls. Blake had never seen anything like the creature before but if there was one there could easily be more. He rose to his feet.

Rustling noises suddenly surrounded him. The bushes between him and the safety of the city parted and another of the monsters stepped into view. This one held a hatchet in one hand and the bloodied body of Clara in the other.

Blake cursed, turning to run further into the forest but his path was blocked by yet more of the foul beasts. He counted four all together, pinning him firmly into that one spot.

“You will not tell of what you have seen here,” rumbled the monster that held Clara’s limp body in a rough parody of human speech.

“You going to stop me?” Blake growled in response. He scooped up the dead creature’s mace and held it at the ready. It was too heavy to be practical but he had little choice at the moment.

One of the monsters behind him bounded forward and Blake only just parried its attack. As he blocked, another rushed in and slid its serrated blade across his hamstring. Blake toppled to the floor with a pained grunt but managed to bring his mace down upon his attacker’s foot. The third kicked him in the face, sending him sprawling onto his back. He tried to stand but a hail of vicious blows kept him down despite his best efforts.

From the verge of unconsciousness, Blake felt himself being slung over one of the monster’s shoulders. He wanted to fight, to lash out at the best but his limbs would not work and his brain felt misted over.

“You will be the first of many to give yourself to the rebirth of Lanstiro,” the lead demon hissed into his ear.

“And the girl?” Blake managed to rasp.

The monster barked a harsh laugh. “We will need food for the journey home. Young meat is always the best.”

***

The memories of that night still gave Blake nightmares. He had never known peace from that moment on. It had been a hard journey to the wasteland that surrounded the ruined city of Lanstiro. The shadows of Miankkuth had extended far beyond the lands of legend and had grown to be disturbingly close to civilisation.

Despite all of that, the biggest surprise had been finding out that it was Dill who now ruled both the fortress city and the legions of the Forukks. At first Dill had seemed as surprised at seeing Blake as Blake had at seeing his old friend but it quickly became apparent that Dill was not the same man he had known.

At first Dill had tried to sway him over, tempting Blake to become one of the new rank of ‘Masters’ that would conquer all of Farava. After he had refused though, Dill became cold towards him and locked himself away in the castle. Any mention of his past life would send him into an inevitable rage. No; the Dill he had known was dead. It was Zendek who ruled now, a man who shared nothing with Dill other than a face.

The latch above started to rattle dully. Blake could hear the heavy breathing of a Forukk through the stone slab. With a creak, the hatch opened and a dim gloom diluted the pure darkness of the pit. He stared up at it blankly.

“Get back to work, scumbag,” came the deep-voiced order from the Forukk’s snarling mouth. It grabbed Blake’s arm roughly in its oversized hands and yanked him out of the hole. “Lord Zendek wants you to know that your woman will be in his safe hands while you pick the blood-grapes that will make the wine for them to enjoy. Now move! You have work to do.”

Blake nodded and gave the brute his best grin. “Indeed I do,” he said before ramming a sharpened stone into the Forukk’s throat. It gurgled silently then collapsed. He collected the angular blade from the Forukk’s belt then shoved its body into the pit, closing the hatch with a thud.

“I’m coming for you, Sarah.”

Previous – Chapter 43. The Oracle.

Next – Chapter 45. Strange Hosts.

Slotting another bolt into his crossbow, Pux ran down the golden-cream corridor and headed towards the Heart where he was sure the Lord Prophet would be. Veins of grass green fungi illuminated the passageways with a soft emerald glow like the sun filtering through a thin leaf on a summer’s day. He encountered no sign of resistance as he ran through the first few rooms although he could see signs of a recent battle. A few stray bodies littered the floor, blood smeared the aged walls and occasional gashes bled sap where a weapon hid bitten into the tree’s flesh. Pux borrowed a discarded sword from the side of a young warrior’s corpse. He looked barely out of his teens.

Navigating through the vast maze-like structure of the tree, it took Pux longer than he would have liked to reach the Heart. He peered around the corner into the long aisle that led to a golden door. That ornate wood was all that barred access from the core of the tree. Two Fallen stood guard beside the now battered door and patches of blood stained the floor. Bodies from both armies clustered the hallway.

Pux span around the corner, releasing a bolt as he dodged two arrows that flew to meet him. Without wasting a moment he charged forward. The bolt struck the guard to the left through his stomach, pinning him to the door. The second guard let loose another arrow which Pux deflected with a deft flick of his borrowed sword. He delivered a swift slash across the remaining guard’s chest who fell to the floor with a scream. Pux stepped over his crumpled body and inched opened the door. It was designed for two Yuxova to open but Pux managed it alone, swinging the first guard who was still pinned to it.

The Heart was as stunning as Pux remembered it. He had only been here once before, on the day that he had been given the rank of Captain. More of the glowing moss formed beautiful patterns around the soft core-wood. Golden leaves grew along the ceiling and around pillars that filled the room in concentric rings. At their centre was a bone-white alter where a silver sapling grew from a hole filled with dark soil.

To Pux’s surprise, only three Yuxova occupied the chamber. A handful of bodies that belonged to the Protectors of the Heart were sprawled messily around the floor. Their strong bodies, strict training and hardened redscale armour had not helped them in the least. There was not a single Fallen corpse to indicate a battle had been fought there.

The Lord Prophet Xuex stood beside the altar, resplendent in his snow white robes. Combined with his well-kept white hair and beard and his albino skin he looked like a divine spirit among the living. He held the tall silver staff known as the Key of Life firmly in both smooth hands. Before him two Yuxova fought with a fury that Pux could hardly believe.

One of the combatants was Captain Vexil, leader of the Yuxova soldiers that guarded the Tree of Ages. The other Yuxova had the dull grey skin of a Fallen One but the similarities with the invaders ended there. He was twice the size of a regular Yuxova in all aspects, his hands looking easily capable of crushing Vexil’s skull. He did not look like a monstrosity though. It somehow looked natural, like a Yuxova should grow to that height. His armour was just a scaled up version of the normal Fallen equivalent, albeit being of a far finer quality. An elegantly curved sword rested in each of his hands. He wore dark hair in a ponytail while a thin beard and moustache combo framed his dominant jaw and thin lips. Eyes that gleamed purple sat above a hooked nose.

Neither fighter slowed but Pux was certain that they had already noted his presence and assessed his possible impacts upon the situation. Not that he could do a great deal at the moment. The two Yuxova fought at a level that Pux had no hope of competing with. If he jumped to aid Vexil then he would be little more than a distraction, a child for the other captain to protect.

Vexil rolled under a wide arcing sweep of the giant Yuxova blade but had no time to jab at his opponent’s back before he was kicked across the room. He hit a pillar that was obliterated a moment later by the oversized sword. Vexil dived away and was on his feet in an instant. His blade darted out, striking the larger Yuxova across the calf in an attempt at hamstringing his foe. The metal barely made it past leather-like skin.

The Fallen shrugged off the damage. He slashed down and Vexil tried to parry. His sword was knocked clean out of his hands and stuck itself firmly near the top of a nearby pillar. Undeterred, Vexil thumped any spot he could reach that was not guarded with armour. He dodged away from an attack but then another caught him just under his shoulder. Vexil hissed in pain, staggered back and fell on a section of rubble.

Without emotion, the giant Yuxova stabbed down, lodging his blade through Vexil’s gut and into the wooden ground below. He left it stuck there and approached the Lord Prophet.

“Where is the Oracle? We know that you have it hidden,” the Fallen Yuxova boomed. He held out a broad hand. “Give it to me now and your pathetic race will survive for a few years longer.”

The Lord Prophet eyed the giant calmly. “You will not take what you desire. We Yuxova are the chosen protectors of the Oracle. Our lives are bound to its safety.”

With a low sneer the Fallen recovered his blade. “Then your lives are forfeit.” He brought the sword down upon the elderly Yuxova with a crash.

Pux skidded into place at the last instant. The impact of the dark metal smashing into Pux’s sword sent the smaller fighter straight to his knees. Without hesitating, the Fallen kicked Pux away and prepared himself to strike down the albino prophet again.

A crossbow bolt pounded into his shoulder. A pained grunt issued out from the Fallen. He whipped around and plucked a second bolt from the air before it too could pierce his flesh. With cold eyes he cast the bolt away and rounded on Pux. An oversized hand pinned the young captain to the wall before he could escape while the second hand wrenched the crossbow effortlessly away. It cracked then shattered as he clenched his hand.

“Is this what counts for a captain now?” the Fallen snorted. “My brothers would weep if they knew just how weak you tree-dwellers have become.”

A sharp thud caused the giant to turn back to the Lord Prophet, his arm never loosening its grip on Pux. The white-robed Yuxova had fixed the invader with stern eyes.

“That is enough, betrayer. You will not harm another of my subjects.” The Lord Prophet adjusted the Key of Life so that its tip was pointed out at the Fallen’s throat.

“You think to best me?” rumbled the giant ominously. “I was a captain before you were even born.” He whistled a single sharp note and from the doorway spilled a dozen black shrouded Yuxova with wicked daggers. Not an inch of their skin was uncovered. “Search the chamber. Find me the Oracle. I will deal with this fool.”

“As you command, Chosen Goliox.” The shadowy warriors saluted with a fist to the chest then dispersed themselves around the room. Their every movement was fast and precise.

The giant, Goliox, threw Pux straight upward. Pux hit the ground hard several seconds later. All of the air was knocked out of him and every joint felt torn. Goliox had already moved away and was circling with the Lord Prophet before Pux had landed.

Steel clashed with silver as Goliox brought his weapon down upon the elderly Yuxova. The Lord Prophet blocked the attack, his aged bones still capable of holding up against the Fallen’s superior strength. A fluidity that belied his frail build became apparent in the old man as he weaved his way around Goliox’s attacks.

“Captain Wutoxa, while life still flows through your veins you must not allow these traitors to gain possession of the Oracle.” Xuex gave the order calmly, never taking his eyes from the swinging blade that sought his life.

Pux twitched. The words broke through his mental fog, sparking the flame of resilience within that had fled his body with his breath. Inhaling deeply he dragged himself into a standing position and grabbed his sword. For a moment his eyes focussed on the Lord Prophet but a slight shake of his bearded head dashed any thoughts of Pux rushing to his aid.

No sooner had Pux taken his first step toward the shadowclad warriors, they stopped their searching and turned to him in perfect synchronisation. Before Pux could even blink, every one of them seemed to have spawned a handful of throwing stars. He cursed. The room shimmered with spinning metal that filled Pux’s vision.

Previous – Chapter 42. From Stone to Steel.

Next – Chapter 44. Torn from Home.

Without conscious thought he squeezed his own crossbow’s trigger. The two bolts met in mid air, sparks flying off in all directions. Shattered scraps of wood hit the ground mere feet from Billy. The boy stood in shock, staring at the destroyed bolts. Seeing its target still standing the Forukk readied another shot. It snarled as it released the projectile.

Blood splattered the walls. Billy snapped out of blankness. Zak was running towards him. He had cut down the Forukk without slowing and managed to catch the bolt mid flight. He did not stop even as he passed Billy.

“Hey! Where are you going?” shouted Billy at Zak’s back.

“Away from the scary rocks,” came Zak’s response from the distance.

“Scary rocks?” Billy mused. Only then did he realise the ground was shaking and thunder seemed to roll through the tunnels. The roof collapsed in front of him, crushing the Forukk’s dead body. Billy then followed Zak’s example and ran as fast as his legs would carry him.

By the time Billy reached the others he was exhausted but the tunnels were still falling down around them. To increase their speed, Liam had put Trey on his back and carried him in that manner as they ran for safety.

None of them knew where they were heading but were just following their feet while trying not to be flattened. The candle had long since flickered from existence but Zak’s axe once again lit the way forward.

“This way!” called Dawn from the front of the group. As she was the fastest she was a good few feet in front of the others. She darted around a corner through a strong looking entrance frame. The room inside also looked sturdy, or to be more precise, the cavern. The others followed her in, Liam just passing through the gap as rocks rained down inches behind him. The entrance became a solid wall of debris.

“Damn. How are we supposed to get out of here now?” asked Billy to no one in particular.

“Look on the bright side,” said Dawn. “We’re all still alive.”

“Yes. Instead of being crushed and dying instantly we can starve to death,” said Liam in a solemn voice as he lent Trey against a wall.

“No. We’ll die of dehydration before starvation even sets in,” Zak pointed out happily.

“Look,” said a slightly flustered Dawn. “You’re straying from my point. We’re all alive so we can find a way out of here.”

“Then walk straight into the Forukk’s lair,” added Liam with a shrug.

“Who are you?” asked a croaky voice from behind them.

Zak stepped forwards holding out his axe. The light revealed twelve men huddled in a corner. They looked like miners despite the fact that the mine had been closed for over two decades. Their work suits were ripped, many had lost their helmets and they had no visible skin through the thick layers of dust that coated them from their heads to their toes.

“Who are you would be a better question,” replied Billy to the men. “The mine is inactive.”

“Officially yes it is. To keep Pastrino self reliant, The Lord secretly kept the mine active on a small scale. We are the miners chosen to carry out this secretive task. What about you? You are all in the mine, heavily armed and seem to have knowledge on those monsters outside.”

“The short story is we’re just passing through here to save all the people taken as slaves when Pastrino was destroyed,” said Billy.

The closest miner let out a sigh. “So the city was destroyed. We figured as much from the sounds above us. Then those monsters started patrolling the mines. We all thought we would die here.”

“You still might if we don’t move all these rocks from the doorway,” said Liam in his usual uplifting voice.

“It could take days of solid work to clear the entrance and the passage beyond it. Then we’d have to deal with those monsters. Even if we can get out we have nowhere to go,” whined the youngest of the miners.

“Moaning isn’t going to solve anything.” From the place against the wall where his body had been laid Trey rose to his feet and began to move rocks from their place blocking the way out.

The others moved to help, including the miners but Dawn motioned them to keep back. She had to physically take Trey away from the blockage before he stopped moving stones. “The ground around here has a high sand density. We people of the desert can deal with sand.

She drew out her necklace and held it tightly with her left hand. With her right she placed her palm against the surface of the rocks and lost herself in a fast tempo chant. Sweat dripped from her forehead and her limbs shook slightly. As the chanting reached its climax, the debris before her began to vibrate then the next second the rocks disintegrated into flowing sand. She staggered back, laughed then collapsed.

“The way we came is blocked,” called Billy as the others fussed over Dawn. “Forwards is open though.”

“Do you miners know a way out of the mines that we can get to without going the way we came?” asked Trey.

“No. All the entrances are back east, we’re too far west to find any exits,” replied the young miner.

An ancient looking miner stepped forwards. He had not moved once up until then, only watched the teenagers with a careful eye. His body was large and very strong but his face was wrinkled and looked very fragile. “There is a way out we can take.”

A few of the other miners looked uncomfortable as their gaze fell upon the old man. One looked like he was about to speak but then looked down at his feet like the others.

“There is an exit that opens up straight into the Shadowlands. I do not like it but it is the only way out.” The old man stepped out of the room. “I will show you the way.”

The other miners formed up around him like guards, their pickaxes held ready. Liam gently picked Dawn up while Billy, Zak and Trey hung back to protect the rear.

No sign appeared that gave any mention of Forukks nearby. The only sounds were their own footsteps and heavy breaths. If anything it was too quiet. The Forukks should have been on their trails like cats on mice.

After hours of nothing but walking the old man, who had introduced himself as Oliver Bailey, head miner, called a halt at what seemed to be a dead end. In the light from Zak’s axe they could see that at the end of the passage was a slab of obsidian with a skull carved upon its surface.

“It’s time,” Mr Bailey stated as he took a mighty swing at the centre of the slab with his pickaxe. Both the obsidian and the pickaxe cracked. He swung again and his pickaxe shattered. He was about to swing for a third time with another pickaxe when Zak stopped him.

“Allow me.” With a flick of his wrist his axe met the slab which exploded outwards into the world beyond.

The stale air of the mines gave way to a tainted breeze as the group looked out upon a dreary setting. The exit opened out onto the side of a steep cliff with only a small ledge to step out onto. All of the trees were twisted husks with no leaves and everything seemed to have a grey tinge. Rain specked the sky giving the whole area a blurry look.

“We’re near the top,” called Zak, who had walked straight out to inspect the area. He reached above him and soon vanished from sight.

“All clear,” he called down to the group.

One by one everybody climbed the short distance to the top until only Liam and Dawn were left. She had regained just enough consciousness to grip onto his back while he slowly pulled himself over the edge. When he reached the top Dawn slid off of him.

“Shouldn’t you have carried her?” he asked Zak. “Considering you’re the strongest and have the greatest endurance.”

“Yeah but we need you to pull your weight somehow.”

“I don’t like the taste of the air here, we shouldn’t stay too long,” said Mr Bailey.

“As much as I dislike it, we are not soldiers, nor can we fight. For the most part we are battered and hungry and only have pickaxes for weapons. We cannot help you to save our people and that deeply grieves me. We will not be coming with you,” sighed Mr Bailey.

The other miners were visibly relieved at not having to venture further into Miankkuth. No sooner had the relief passed then shame hit their faces. They too wanted to save their friends and family.

“Good luck,” said Mr Bailey as he looked deeply into each of their eyes. “Kill some of those monsters for us if you can.” He turned, motioned his men to follow then headed off south, away from Pastrino.

“Now all we need to do is find our way to Lanstiro without alerting the guards,” said Trey to no one in particular. “Anyone have an idea which way to go.”

“I know!” shouted out Zak. “Let’s ask him.” He pointed to a Forukk stood directly behind Liam.

“Holy Sprite! How did that sneak up on us?” shouted Billy in surprise.

The Forukk was huge. It was bigger than the one Zak fought in the mines. It was like a massive blot on the landscape. One of its arms was a giant tentacle while it’s other had hundreds of spikes protruding from its flesh. It had a third eye on its forehead and had sharp bones sticking up from its knees.

Before anyone could react the Forukk had grabbed Dawn with its tentacle. She screamed out in pain as it began to squeeze her. Nobody had any Boom-balls left and Zak could not risk explosive Nimula as it could hit Dawn. Both Billy and Zak leapt forwards to attack as Liam rolled away from the beast’s spiked arm as it fell towards him. The Forukk swatted the two boys away using Dawn before firing a volley of spikes from its arm onto the battlefield.

“Damn it!” roared Trey as he yanked a bloody spike from his shoulder. “It’s too strong.”

The Forukk gave off a booming laugh that shook the ground then its mouth began to glow purple. An unbelievable heat rolled across the land that made everyone still standing sink down to their knees. Being hit by whatever the Forukk was about to do was certain death. There was no doubt about it.

A boom louder than thunder and a flash greater than lightning shook Trey’s senses. His eyes only saw white whether they were open or closed. A distant crackling was all he could hear. At first he thought he was dead but he was in too much pain to be anything but healthy.

As his vision cleared he was surprised to see the giant Forukk laying in two halves on the ground with a woman standing in-between the two. In one arm she held Dawn; in the other she loosely held a blood stained chakram.

“Hi,” she giggled. “Are you here to die like the big guy?”

Previous – Chapter 41. Onlasarian Pride.

Next – Chapter 43. The Oracle.

Serka smiled as he watched the Onlasarian defenders being slaughtered by his men. The battle was going well now that the gates had been opened. His fellow barbarians had managed to destroy any that stood against them on the walls. Those defenders that had not been slain were now retreating towards the castle in the vain hope that they could resist the enemy there. Baranox had sold them all out for his own protection. Civilization did not mean much in the face of death. Not that Baranox’s deal would save him. Serka hated cowards more than anything else in the world.

The barbarian leader was slightly vexed at the fact that he had found no worthy opponent. Not one person managed even ten seconds. He sighed. That was what he got for being the strongest, he thought to himself. Oh well, there is still plenty of killing to be had.

After continuing through the city, indiscriminately killing any that got in his way, he saw something that put a smile back on his face. He saw someone he recognised and who he knew would hopefully be a worthy opponent. It was the enemy commander, Mike Nakai. He looked slightly worse for wear but still had his fighting spirit.

A roar of joy bellowed from Serka’s lungs and a huge smile was fixed upon his face as he raced towards the commander. “This is gonna be good!”

* * *

“This is not good,” sighed Nakai as he watched the giant of a man charging towards him looking overjoyed. He pulled his blade from a barbarian’s gut then readied himself.

Nakai darted to the side as Serka swung down at him. The club cracked the cobbles where Nakai had just been standing. The barbarian kept swinging and all Nakai could do was dodge the attacks. Their fight took them to the centre of the city. Many warriors around them had stopped fighting to watch them both.

Serka delivered a blow that took the Commander off guard. Nakai only had time to raise his sword in a feeble attempt to block it. The impact took Nakai from his feet and sent him hurtling backwards. His body smashed through a wooden door then rolled across the ground for another few yards.

All air was knocked from his lungs. Several of his bones had broken and his whole body was badly bruised. He slowly opened his eyes and laughed bitterly. Ironic, his last fight would take place in the great stadium.

“Well, I’m not going to die by just staying down here and waiting,” he grunted as he stood, coughing blood as he straightened.

“Good!” bellowed Serka. “You’ve still got some fight in you. Time for some real fun, try and stay alive a few more minutes at least.”

The barbarian charged and Nakai leapt to the side, lunging with his unbroken arm at a joint in Serka’s armour. The blade struck its target drawing blood but this did not deter his foe in the slightest. If anything it encouraged him. One more hit and Nakai was dead. The commander knew it, as did Serka and all the warriors who had abandoned combat and gathered in the stadium’s tiers to watch this epic battle.

“If I’m going to die I swear I’m taking you with me!” shouted Nakai.

“And how do you plan to do that when you can barely keep on your feet,” answered Serka in a somewhat disappointed tone at not receiving a good fight.

The Commander inspected a nearby Onlasarian corpse, quickly kneeling to search the body. From its battle pack Nakai retrieved two unused boom-balls.

“So much for an honourable death in a sword fight like I hoped,” muttered Nakai as he lit the fuses and sprinted towards Serka.

Serka, realising his peril, readied himself to smash the Commander and his explosives to the other side of the stadium. When he was within range he swung. Nakai ducked the attack and continued. Serka pulled his club back in and lunged, hitting Nakai square in the chest.

There was a sickening crunch. In the brief second that separated the crunch from the explosion the scene looked like this: Serka’s club was against the Commanders chest, all of his ribs broken, some puncturing organs. Nakai held a boom-ball in each hand and had smashed them into both sides of Serka’s head, breaking teeth and his jaw bone.

The ensuing explosion filled the whole stadium. Fire and smoke flew outwards at an alarming pace and the sound was deafening. Neither of the two men had a chance to scream. As the smoke cleared the carnage became apparent.

Nothing was left of Serka except jagged shards of twisted black metal, fragments of splintered bone and a nasty looking stain on the floor and nearby walls. As for Nakai, his body was still mostly whole. It lay a few feet from the crater the explosion had left. Serka’s final attack had pushed him back even as the boomballs had erupted. All of his hair had been burned off and he was missing his left arm all the way to the shoulder. Cuts covered every inch of his skin and his armour was nothing but rags.

An Onlasarian soldier checked his body and rejoiced at a pulse. It was very faint but it was there all the same. He and three fellow warriors lifted him onto a large wooden board and carried him off towards the castle for aid. They had not travelled far when a strange voice halted them.

“Ah, so he killed that brute. He’s saved me a great task. Now that Serka is gone, I am the leader of these savages.” It was the barbarian sorcerer. “For aiding me I’ll give you a quick painless death, Commander.”

The four warriors placed Nakai onto the ground and drew their swords. With a mere flick of his wrists the men began to unravel. Their screams were terrible to hear like some hellish nightmare. The wizard then turned his attention back to the near dead Nakai.

He raised his hands and began to chant. Blood sprayed across Nakai’s face but it was not his own. A spear was protruding from the spellweaver’s chest. A battered and burnt looking Suzy Fireblood held its shaft.

“That’ll teach you to set me on fire, you Sprite dropping!” she snarled.

She motioned to some nearby warriors and together they took Nakai back to the castle. The battle would have to wait. He needed to live.

* * *

The three members of Avocado Dusk had fared well during the battle. They had stuck together and had killed a dozen barbarians between them. Now they were cornered by around twenty of the enemy and the trio’s blades were dull and blunted. Hope for the great band seemed lost.

The lead singer stepped forwards and shouted, “Roadies, attack!” At first the barbarians had laughed. Then, from seemingly nowhere, a pack of crazed looking young people assaulted their band’s foes with a bestial rage. Their weapons ranged from swords to overgrown fingernails. One roadie even carved a man’s head in with a spork.

The barbarians fled in terror at the pure ferocity of the attack. Avocado Dusk shared a quick high five then drank deeply from hip-flasks filled with alcohol.

“Cheers!”

* * *

“The battle is won, sir. All the invaders have retreated from the city or have been killed,” stated Suzy Fireblood from her chair. She was in the medical bay and was wrapped heavily in bandages. 

Beside her was the disfigured body of Commander Nakai. Healers still fussed around him but he had finally regained consciousness. Nakai would have sat up in his hospital bed or done something but none of his body parts would move. It was even agony to breathe.

“How many do we have left?” he managed to ask.

Suzy hesitated a moment. “We have around four and a half thousand able bodied soldiers remaining. Civilian casualties were low, few died.”

“Good. Rally the warriors and tell them to prepare for battle,” Nakai ordered.

“But we won. The barbarians won’t be back for a long time.”

“I know. That was just a warm up battle that meant very little in the grand scheme of things. The real battle is what those kids from Pastrino are heading for and they’ll need all the help they can get.”

The young lieutenant seemed about to argue but managed to resist. Grudgingly she asked, “What are your orders, Commander?”

“Give the men a day to rest. Then we ride for the Abyss.”

Previous – Chapter 40. The Yuxova.

Next – Chapter 42. From Stone to Steel.

Trees sped by around them as the two Yuxova captains darted through the labyrinth of branches. They had joined up with sixty of Kenux’s surviving warriors then rounded up Pux’s platoon before even heading towards their destination. Without their captain, the hundred Yuxova warriors had been kept in reserve so were eager to enter the fight. Along the way several warriors from other squads had joined them after having been routed from the battle. A great mass of bird mounted Yuxova warriors now followed them towards the Tree of Ages in a living cloud of angry two inch high soldiers.

Pux was horrified by the damage that lay all around him. Tree trunks littered the leaf strewn ground where they had been roughly felled. Charcoal stained sectors of the forest black. These scorched patches looked to have been well contained but there were many of them. The corpses of Forukks usually accompanied the damage, tainting the ground where they lay. A handful of tiny bodies were scattered around most of these areas.

The sound of combat came before any sighting of the current battleground. Pux burst through the leaves of an oak tree and was confronted with the scene of thirty or so Forukks advancing toward the nearby Yuxova settlement with blades and blazing torches. Yuxova swirled around the monsters but were spread too thinly to truly damage the thick-skinned beasts.

“Initiate the Razor-wind formation,” Kenux ordered. The warriors behind him grouped closer together as they flew, forming a great, shapeless mass of life. The host of birds dove at the Forukks, the cloud of feathers piling into the howling creatures and absorbing them into the heart of the swarm. Forukks thrashed and roared, striking down birds with every swing.

As one, the birds rocketed back into the skies. The Forukks were sprawled motionless below, ripped clean of all of their tainted flesh. Dull grey bones could be glimpsed where the armour did not cover. Small groups of Yuxova on pigeons rushed with buckets of water to douse the torches before their flames could spread.

The leader of the Yuxova who had been engaging the Forukks drew his bird up beside Kenux and Pux. “Glad you came when you did, sirs. We were holding back the Forukks easily until those damned traitors showed up. The Lord Prophet ordered most of the soldiers to pull back and defend the Tree of Ages. The second that our forces were split, the Forukks launched another attack. It makes no sense but everything is screaming at me that the Fallen must be working with the Forukks.”

“Do we have any clear numbers yet?” Kenux asked briskly.

“I’m no captain so I don’t know for sure,” the Yuxova began. “From what I’ve seen and heard though, I’d say we’re dealing with at least another fifty Forukks and upwards of five hundred Fallen. We should have the numbers to force them back but we are too scattered and cannot regroup.”

“Who is in-charge here?” Pux put to the sergeant.

“Captain Lexisow and her Night-Riders command the defence against the Forukks. She is south-west of here by the root bridge,” answered the sergeant wearily.

Kenux made a quick guess of his own numbers. They had gathered over two hundred soldiers but had suffered losses against the Forukks. “Take a hundred men and join up with Captain Lexisow. Tell her that we went on ahead. Kill the brutes as fast as is possible then swing back around to help us.”

“As you command, Captain.”

After quickly splitting their forces, Pux and Kenux led what remained of their soldiers north-west. The Tree of Ages stood alone in a small clearing that was holy ground to all Yuxova. The city of Iliox had been constructed around the vast tree and was home to nearly every Yuxova in Farava. The Lord Prophet himself resided within the mighty tree.

Screams and shouts filled the clearing and the nearby trees that formed vast structures within Iliox. Yuxova battled everywhere. Combat raged across the forest ground while birds fought fiercely in midair. The very trees swarmed with soldiers who leapt from branch to branch, darting in and out of trunks and gliding from one platform to another with webbed coats.

Warriors in the dull green and brown clothes of the Forest Guardians were locked in battle with red clad Yuxova who wore black metal armour over their bright attire. Unlike the tanned skin of the local Yuxova, the Fallen had ash grey flesh that seemed unable to sweat. Despite what the sergeant had said, the invaders seemed to outnumber the defenders by a fair margin.

“Looks like they’ve captured the area surrounding the palace and have prepared a welcome party for us.” Pux smiled grimly as he watched the forest erupt with black and red armoured traitors. They seemed to ooze from behind every leaf and out of every crevasse that the trees had to offer.

“Just how I like it,” murmured Kenux. “Takes me back to my youth.”

Kenux lifted his blade high then roared a battle-cry. The other Yuxova took up the cry and charged into the battle to help the beleaguered defenders. The two forces met at breakneck speed. Several birds fell from the sky as the two solid masses came together. The centre became a swirling storm of shouts, screams, feathers, weapons, blood and death.

Pux lost sight of Kenux almost immediately. A crow had flown into him at full speed, its beak only held back by Pux’s sword. The crow’s rider advanced upon Pux with his mace raised. With one hand holding his sword, Pux grabbed his crossbow from his back and shot a single bolt at his opponent. Then with his other hand he slashed at the crow, sending it hurtling into another Fallen’s gull.

Sending Bo-bo into a vertical dive, Pux grabbed onto the tail of a finch that was heading in the opposite direction. Bo-bo continued his descent as Pux climbed onto the finch’s back and threw off its rider, watching him fall into the maelstrom below. Pux followed him by jumping off the bird. As he fell he clipped many birds’ wings with skilful slashes of his blade.

Mere feet from the ground he was scooped up by Bo-bo and they soon had regained their former altitude. They continued to rise until they broke from the melee into the sky beyond. Pux observed the battle from above and sighed as he watched a group of Fallen fly in perfect formation, defeating any Guardian they came into contact with.

Pux removed a bag from his rucksack and examined its contents. Mini boom-balls, so small that Pux could hold half-a-dozen in each hand. Liam had had no spare powder but upon learning its contents, Pux had been able to create a similar mix from plants and minerals around the forest. The formula was not as potent but it should do the job. Following the Fallen from above he lit the explosives as quickly as he could then let them drop. For a second it looked like they might miss and destroy anything unlucky enough to be below him but to his relief they rained down upon the crows. A series of very small bangs followed then charred birds fell from the sky. Most looked to be stunned rather than dead.

Pux’s victory was short-lived as a huge hawk darted from the clouds. The Fallen atop of it was a black haired Yuxova woman with a barbed whip flowing beside her. Pux only had a split second’s notice to try and dodge the attack. Bo-bo swerved to avoid the talons but was not quick enough. Rather than grabbing Pux and Bo-bo like the attacker intended, the hawk clipped Bo-bo’s wing, causing the small bird to spiral down to earth.

The woman made to follow but was blocked by hundreds of small birds as they flew like one entity across the battle. By the time they had passed, Pux and his bird were nowhere in sight.

The ground was closing in on them far too fast for Pux’s liking. Bo-bo had lost consciousness and made no attempt to avoid the forest floor. Desperately Pux slapped his blade into the bird’s side causing the bird to twitch. The pain brought consciousness back but it was too late.

They hit the ground with a thud and crack. Light filtered through Pux’s eyes. With a groan and a large headache he rose to his feet. He looked over to Bo-bo. The bird’s feathers were ruffled and its left leg looked broken. Comforting the bird by stroking its head, Pux looked at the carnage around him. A large black mass moving down a nearby hill drew his attention from the sky.

It was a spider swarm. Vicious forest arachnids rode by tough looking Fallen. Red war paint dashed their faces and armour and jagged blades waved around in vice like hands. They were heading straight for Pux.

“Damn!” shouted Pux as the spiders closed in. Using all of his strength he threw the bird onto his back and began to run. It was no use though; Bo-bo was too heavy.

A sharp whistle pierced the air. Pux dropped Bo-bo and drew his sword. He whistled again and waited as the sea of death sped towards them. The spiders were feet away now. Pux could make out their beady eyes and blade like fangs. Sharp screeches shattered the air as the spiders howled at the prospect of blood.

Pux stepped aside as a lizard leapt from a tree and landed where he had been standing. It was three times larger than Bo-bo, had gore red skin and black lines that were scattered around its body.

“Took your time,” snapped Pux as he hauled Bo-bo onto the lizard’s back. The lizard made an apologetic sound as it eyed the coming assault. Pux climbed up and sat in front of the bird.

“Hold on tight my feathered friend,” Pux roared as he gave the lizard a tap. In a show of power the lizard’s muscles rippled then it shot off towards the enemy. Bo-bo squawked in displeasure as he held on for dear life with his wings, feet and beak.

The spider riders did not seem the slightest bit fazed at the counter attack. If anything they were more enthusiastic now that their prey was going to put up a fight. It was suicide. The chance of survival was one in a million. Even a captain could not face a full spider battalion. Even so Pux had a greater chance of survival charging them than waiting for them to rip him limb from limb.

The lizard reached full speed just as the spiders were in attack range. With a mighty leap the lizard flew over the front line and landed several feet into the spiders’ ranks, crushing an unlucky warrior and his mount under its bulk, all without missing a step.

Spears lunged from all directions, most breaking as they hit the lizard’s armour like scales, but some hit flesh. As Pux rode through the maelstrom of eight legged tanks at lightning speed he spotted what he was looking for. Beyond the spiders was a huge twisted tree. On closer inspection Pux could see it was actually three trees, grown together to form one spiralling trunk. Its golden leaves shone out like a beacon, guiding Pux towards it. The Tree of Ages.

A barbed sword caught Pux on the thigh, bringing him from his reverence. He hacked to his side, severing a hairy leg from a spider’s torso.

“Full speed ahead,” Pux called to the lizard. Making a sharp left turn they headed straight for the great tree, ploughing through any spiders that got in their way. The spider riders continued to throw themselves towards Pux. For every ten attacks that failed, one managed to inflict damage. The lizard began to slow as blood dripped from several small cuts that crisscrossed its body.

One arachnid with stilt-like legs vaulted into the air to land on the lizard’s back and kill Pux directly. As the spider flew through the air, Pux drew his crossbow and fired. The bolt struck the bug in the eye, causing it to flail in pain. With its balance off it missed the lizard altogether, instead cannoning into one of its comrades.

Pux was through most of the spiders now. He had a horde on his tail but as long as he made it to the Tree of Ages, that did not matter. The battle around him was merely a distraction. The real fight was going on deep inside the ancient plant’s halls. That was the fight Pux was needed in.

A screech unlike anything any mortal should ever hear pulsed through Pux’s soul causing the lizard and Bo-bo to flinch. With all of his senses on full alert Pux looked to his right, knowing what he would see.

Standing amidst the chaos was a Yuxova almost twice the size of Pux. He wore no shirt and he had no hair other than a short ponytail that billowed in the wind. On his right shoulder sat a plain iron shoulder guard held onto him by a strap that ran across his chest and back then connected to his belt. On his left hand he wore a gauntlet.

Pux grinned with relief. It was the Silent Captain. A mute, with an unknown name and calm demeanour yet deadly skills in combat. Strength wise, he was the top captain. He killed without a word or a hint of emotion.

Below the Silent Captain stood his mount, a huge tarantula with talon-like fangs, eight bloodshot eyes and a spiked exoskeleton. Ironically it was the loudest, most vicious creature in the forest. More spiders carrying Guardians scurried behind him.

Releasing an otherworldly scream the tarantula shot forwards. Its rider raised his flail and directed the mount towards the oncoming tide of arachnids. Spider met spider in a clash of legs and venom. Pux raced by, offering the mute captain a salute as they passed each other.

A shadow blacked out the sun. Pux glanced up and cursed. A jumping spider bounded through the air above, spiked armour strapped to its stomach. It landed where Pux’s lizard had been a moment before and was instantly back in the air for a second attempt at the captain’s life. Pux fired his crossbow but unlike the last jumper, his bolt pinged harmlessly against armour.

It landed ahead of the lizard and spun around to face Pux, pouncing within the same breath. Pux swerved the lizard and the spider rammed into the lizard’s side instead. The Fallen did not hesitate, swinging his morning-star into the reptile’s scaled leg. The lizard reeled up and flipped as it collapsed to the ground.

Pux parried a blow as the lizard shakily rose to its feet. He fired a shot at the spider’s face. It struck but only caused a shallow wound that hardly made the arachnid falter. The spider lunged forwards with its fangs bared.

At the last second the lizard sprang into the air, avoiding the attack and landing on a thin tree. The Fallen motioned for his mount to follow and it too sprang up to join Pux. The spider horde swarmed towards the tree, covering it like tar.

With all the speed he could muster, the reptile raced along a branch, the spider riders in close pursuit. Vaulting from branch to branch, Pux suffered an assault of twigs and thorns. His Fallen opponent rode along Pux’s side and a vicious melee began. The grey skinned Yuxova must have been the equivalent of a captain with how hard he pressed Pux. He hissed and bayed with the same venom as his eight-legged mount.

At breakneck speed they shot through the leaves exchanging a barrage of attacks. Stray birds swooped through the skies, occasionally skirmishing with the crawling sea below them, the bigger  birds plucking up the spiders to swallow whole.

Searing pain lanced through Pux’s arm as the ball of the Fallen’s morning-star struck his shoulder. With an agonising crack Pux felt the bone shatter. Losing some of his control the lizard swayed to the left and almost toppled from the branch. Pux quickly adjusted their direction as he tried to avoid another strike aimed at his head.

They were on the last branch. Pux could see the entrance clearly now. It was not big enough to fit the lizard through or even Bo-bo. Only a Yuxova could enter.

The lizard dived off of the very tip of the branch. Pux dove off the reptile and landed with a roll through the open door. At the last second the lizard extended its arms and revealed it had thin wing like webbing on its joints. They caught the wind and it and Bo-bo glided up, around the tree then were lost to sight in the forest.

The spiders did not have any such tricks. The Fallen captain and a few of the wiser riders skidded to a halt before jumping. The rest leapt towards the door. Those that did not miss the platform crashed into the tree’s trunk. Those nearest to the entrance tried in vain to squeeze through or reach Pux until Guardians forced them back into the battle.

As the riders began to dismount and charge towards the opening, Pux quickly heaved the thick door closed and locked it with the only suitable thing he had: his sword. It would not hold them forever but it would have to do.

Previous – Chapter 39. Through the Mines.

Next – Chapter 41. Onlasarian Pride.

After an hour they arrived at the mine entrance and saw it was guarded by a large Forukk with three horns. Billy was about to shoot it with his bow when Zak walked up to it. Before it had a chance to do anything but laugh at the puny human before it, its body was cleaved in two by Zak’s great axe. 

No other Forukks seemed to be around so they continued into the dark earth. The tunnel was wide but not very tall. The walls were rough rock that still bore the marks of pickaxes. The further they headed forwards the smaller the light behind them became. As Zak led them around a corner the light vanished. Liam preferred the dark but the others opted for a light source. Billy went to light a lantern when Zak stopped him.

“I came prepared for dark places.” He mumbled a few unintelligible words and nothing seemed to happen. He then snapped his fingers and a radiant light issued forth from his axe. It died down to a level that did not blind the eye but still lit up the area around them.

“It’s my new idea,” he stated happily. “It’s called a snapper. When I snap my fingers it lights up. I originally wanted a clapper but I found I couldn’t clap while holding the axe.”

The mine shafts were more like a labyrinth than a former place of work. Tunnels headed this way and that, some were a mere dozen yards long, others stretched for several miles. None in the group knew the tunnels at all, they just knew to head south west. Many times they hit dead ends and had to retrace their steps to find a new path.

Progress was slow, the sound of their footsteps echoed terribly and all talking had ended. No matter how quietly they moved the echoes always sounded unnaturally loud.

Zak motioned with his hand and the group halted. Echoed footsteps continued briefly after all feet had stilled.

“We’re being followed.”

“Maybe it’s that assassin that came after me,” said Dawn.

“I doubt it,” replied Billy. “An assassin would mask his steps better than that. I’d guess it’s a Forukk.”

From behind them came an angered howl that resonated throughout every tunnel. It was impossible to tell how near it was to them but they all guessed it was close. Seconds later, answering calls bellowed in the distance, merging together to form one deep and hellish noise.

“I think it’s time to run,” said Billy as a large shadow charged around the corner behind them. A black shafted bolt skewered the wall behind him as the last word left his lips.

Another bolt narrowly missed Trey as he ducked into a bend to his right. No sooner had he turned the corner he crashed into a large, growling object. In the faint glow of Zak’s axe, Trey gazed upon a Forukk of titanic proportions. Its bulk blocked the whole tunnel and its fists were like giant blocks of concrete with a single jagged claw protruding from the centre of each.

A split second before the creature’s fist impacted with Trey’s chest, he managed to manoeuvre his sword to defend himself. It was completely ineffective. A sickening crack echoed around the mines and Trey’s feet left the ground as his body flew backward then hit a wall. He slumped to the ground.

Zak ran at the giant Forukk and embedded his axe in the things chest. It made a series of noises that were its twisted version of a laugh. It swung its arm at Zak and he leapt backwards, leaving his axe in its chest.

Billy dodged another bolt and fired an arrow of his own. It tore into the first Forukk’s skull, killing it instantly. His moment of pride was beaten down when three more appeared in his view.

“We have to go!” he shouted.

“What about Trey?” answered Dawn as she knelt by the boy’s unconscious body.

“What about my axe?” shouted Zak in agitation as he jumped over a low swing by his opponent.

“You and Liam will have to carry him,” Billy stated to the girl. “Zak, unless you want to stay and fight them all for the axe, get over here and help me guard those three while we escape.”

“Screw that! I want my axe!” replied Zak as he leapt back, drew both his swords then dived forward again in one swift motion.

Billy was about to argue when four bolts sped past him, one glancing across his left arm. Another Forukk had joined them, he noted with displeasure as he clenched his teeth against the sharp pain.

“Go!” he commanded, firing at the Forukks, narrowly missing one. The injury was throwing off his aim.

All of the group except for Zak ran through the tunnels and away from the Forukks. Without Zak’s axe there was no light but a hastily lit candle in Liam’s hand.

Meanwhile Zak was still attempting to recover his weapon while trying to survive. As well as the giant Forukk, the smaller creatures had turned their attention onto the boy. All but one. The other followed in the group’s footsteps towards easier prey.

“Gimme back my axe, dammit!” shouted Zak as he simultaneously avoided three bolts and a lunge from the giant. He did not foresee the huge Forukk head butting him so when their foreheads met, Zak was sent hurtling backwards into a wall causing the tunnel to shake and dust to fall from the ceiling.

Slowly he picked himself up, swept away the dust from his clothes and shook his head in agitation. “Screw this!” he roared as he pulled a stolen boom-ball from his rucksack.

A startled, un-Forukk like squeak escaped the lesser Forukks snouts. The greater Forukk laughed, then with startling speed for such bulk, charged down the tunnel towards the boy. The other Forukks had all begun to flee.

Zak lit the boom-ball with a spark of Nimula, held it in one hand and ran to meet the Forukk. When they were within range of each other, the Forukk punched towards Zak, its fist almost the same size as the boy while Zak punched out with the hand holding the explosive. The walls shook and fire shot through the passageways. As the smoke spread out over the ceiling the centre of the carnage became visible. There were two bodies sprawled out on the floor. The Forukk, or what was left of it, lay at one end of the shaft and Zak lay at the other.

The support beams strained perilously as dust rained down upon the two bodies. The dust that fell around the Forukk was engulfed in thick, tar like blood while that which landed upon Zak fizzled out of existence.

The boy’s body glowed with a shimmering purple light that covered every inch of him. Beneath it, Zak was unharmed. He pulled himself to his feet using a fallen support beam and looked around him. The purple shield began to crackle and flicker before dying out completely.

Panting, he sighted his axe embedded into a nearby wall. Striding over to it he pulled it out with ease, despite the fact it was a good few inches into the stone. After hearing an agonized groan from above him, Zak slowly looked up. The roof was seconds away from collapsing onto him.

“Ah.”

Previous – Chapter 38. Trouble in the Trees.

Next – Chapter 40. The Yuxova.

Wood and metal littered the sand around the five teenagers. They picked their way through the debris, kicking aside scrap and skirting around anything too big to step over. Their destination was the monstrous form of shapeless carnage that had recently been two sand fortresses. Now they formed one tangled wreckage.

The third ship had turned and was making a hasty retreat back the way it had come from, leaving the small group the only ones in sight still standing. Several bodies were dotted around, some dead but many not. Trey ignored the groans and screams as best as he could. Zak strolled through the mayhem, admiring the destruction like a personal achievement.

“Over here,” Dawn called from around the corner of the crashed ships. “We might be able to salvage something.”

The boys jogged over to her. She stood before a wide hole in one hull that was filled with an assortment of twisted silhouettes. Billy grabbed a lantern from a nearby pile and relit it before entering the ship. The faint light revealed a cluster of sand speeders and carriers that had been smashed together and wedged into one corner of the half collapsed hanger.

Dawn circled the pile as best as she could and inspected the ships for anything that could be used. Under her direction, Zak carried the bigger bits of scrap away while Trey and Liam managed the smaller rubbish. Billy hung the lamp from a jutting out pipe and helped to dig through the wood.

It took the better part of an hour but eventually they had freed a battered carrier from the wreckage and had managed to push it out onto the sand. That had even strained Zak but once it was outside they were able to repair what they could until the last rays of the sun began to fade.

“Will it work?” asked Trey. They’d replaced one broken wheel and retied several strings but it still looked like a miracle that it remained standing under its own weight.

Dawn ran a hand through her hair and clicked her tongue thoughtfully. Her other hand did not stray from its place over the split skin in her throat where she kept a cloth over the wound. “If we can get it moving then it should make it to the forest. That is as long as we don’t push it in any way, shape or form. A steady speed with minimal turning should be fine.”

“It will have to do,” shrugged Trey. “We’ve already lost too much time.”

They climbed into the carrier and after several attempts, Dawn and Liam managed to get the carrier to lurch into motion. It moved at a snail’s pace compared to the carrier they had travelled in previously but they were moving toward Miankkuth once again and Trey was strangely grateful for that.

Liam took the first shift at the helm while the others took some well needed sleep. When daylight returned, Dawn took over and Liam collapsed into a corner to get some rest of his own. Most of the day passed in utter silence. Trey tried playing more of his ‘rock’ music but it did not improve the reflective mood that had descended upon the carrier.

It was not until dusk came around once more that they sighted the first signs of green upon the horizon. The sand gradually gave way to grass and trees and the carrier had to be stopped at the edge of the desert. To the left were the wide cliffs that Trey Billy and Zak had leapt from after their flight from Pastrino. Luckily for them, the cliffs petered out about two miles further up, leaving the land here relatively flat and easy to traverse. They climbed from the vessel with everything they could carry and cautiously entered the forest

They were in a different section of the forest than where they had came from but it mattered little as Billy and Trey had explored much of the forest during childhood adventures. The two directed the others west until they recognised their surroundings.

For an hour they walked in the darkness of the night, guided only by the waxy light of the moon. Deciding it best to camp for the night, Trey led them through closely packed trees to a good place to rest. The distant sound of roaring water drifted on the wind. As they continued the sound became greater and the air became damper. Up ahead a waterfall came into view. It ran down a cliff, into a small pond which led to a gentle stream.

Trey walked up to the waterfall and revealed that the cliff was hollow behind it. Hidden from view by the raging water was a roomy cave. Once inside the water doubled in volume as the cave echoed the noise.

“There’s plenty of room and we can talk as loudly as we want as the sound is covered up by the waterfall,” Trey announced, his voice just audible over the incessant water.

The boys tried to get comfy and without further conversation they attempted to find sleep. The roar of the waterfall was the only thing that they could hear as they slowly drifted off into troubled dreams. Sleep without nightmares seemed a distant memory.

Dawn did not feel like sleeping as she had so much on her mind. She crept out of the cave and gazed into the shimmering water of the pond. She stood motionless, tracing the raw cut across the left side of her throat, lost in thought for several minutes until a sigh at her side snapped her back to reality.

Liam stood at her side staring at his flickering reflection on the water’s surface. Dawn hadn’t even noticed him approach. He too seemed to have something on his mind that he couldn’t voice.

“I forgive you,” said Dawn softly.

Liam turned towards her. “What’s to forgive?”

“I know you have problems but that’s no excuse to be so rude and cold hearted. An apology, or at least understanding isn’t that much to ask for,” she snapped angrily.

“You know nothing,” stated the young man. “You grew up as a pampered princess. You were given everything you could ever want and had the love and respect of everyone in your tribe. I have nothing.”

“You’re the commander’s brother. You live in a big house and have plenty of money. What is there to be depressed about?” Dawn asked testily. Because of her departure she too now had nothing.

Liam knelt, letting his black nailed hand dip into the cold water. His reflection rippled, becoming distorted and unrecognisable. “My father was the commander before my brother and my mother was the greatest healer the city had ever known. Both were extremely talented and well respected. Then my brother was born and he showed the makings of being as great as his parents. My parents tried for many years to have a second child and fifteen years after Mike was born, my mother became pregnant again.”

“There were complications at my birth and no one could stop my mother from dying. My father was consumed by grief and eventually took his own life. I was blamed for their deaths. I tried to earn the respect of the city but no matter how hard I tried I was useless at everything. People just hated me more and I had no place to fit in.  I have been alone all of my life. Only Mike cares for me and as commander he is always busy.” He finished his story with a sad smile.

“At least you can make your own way through life. My life has been planned out like every other Heptalli royal blood in history. Born and trained as a Princess, learning the skills for the future. When my Grandmother, the Elder, dies, my mother will become the new Elder and I will be forced to become the Matriarch of the tribe. I then live to have a single daughter as is written in my blood. Then I become the Elder while my daughter becomes the leader, then I die. The cycle will never end,” she sighed. “It is my destiny.”

“Destiny is not written,” replied Liam. “Life is sand in the fingers of time. A few grains will always fall loose and land where the hand does not want it. Whatever, I’m heading off to bed. Night.”

He left Dawn standing alone, feeling she now knew Liam as a person, not just a face. Still, she could not help feel that his words sounded far too close to what Mellow had been preaching.

* * *

As the morning came they decided to use their last moment of peace well. Knowing full well that later that day they would see the remains of Pastrino, they all decided to prepare as best as they could.

“While we’re here you lot can head downstream and wash. You stink!” informed Dawn briskly.

“What’s wrong with bathing here?” asked Billy.

“I’m here,” replied Dawn. “I need to wash as well. If you dare to even think of peeping you will not leave here alive. You will find you would rather have the Abyss Sprite of Torture stood before you than me. Got it?” she said with a look in her eyes and a tone in her voice that said she really meant it too. Women had an uncanny talent for turning their eyes into poisoned daggers.

“Yes Miss,” said Trey, Billy and Zak together with the same fear in their words. Liam just turned and followed the stream away from the camp. The others quickly followed. After about five minutes they found a suitable place to wash and decided to relax for the last time before they confronted the Forukks again. Pux left on his own to hunt for food, his knowledge of the forest and its creatures far greater than any of the others.

***

Things seemed peaceful but little did anyone realise that an evil presence had been tracking them through the forest and even now kept its eyes on the current weakest member of the group, all by herself and with no weapons. Assassinating children was too easy for such a greatly talented killer, but orders were orders. Shuriken sat ready between skilled fingers. The girl suspected nothing. The assassin’s movement stopped as a shout erupted from nearby.

“Hey Dawn, you done yet?”

Dawn sighed after just getting relaxed then shouted back, “Just give me a minute.”

It was strike now or lose the chance, thought the assassin. It threw one of the throwing stars and watched it fly towards the girl’s jugular. Before it reached its target a bird swooped by and caught it. Another three shuriken were thrown but three more birds halted their journey. By this time Dawn had gotten out of the pond, dried off and was just finishing tying her robes securely.

This was the assassin’s last chance at an easy target. Six shuriken left the tree and sped towards the girl. Only one bird came this time but it was larger than the others, some kind of eagle. With an almighty beat of its wings the wind knocked the throwing stars off course. The boys came stamping through the trees and into view. The assassin knew that the chance had been missed and quietly left to avoid detection while pondering the birds.

***

Pux was just returning with a large squirrel slung over his shoulder when from out of the sky a wide-winged eagle swooped down and landed on Billy’s head. From its back jumped a battered looking Yuxova that hopped down upon Billy’s shoulder then onto a low tree branch. Pux joined him and bowed his head. The new Yuxova returned the bow but a mere fraction of what Pux had.

“Glad to see you, Captain,” said the injured warrior. “Things have gone to the Abyss since you left.” He was taller than Pux by a few hairs and had a more muscular build. Leather armour covered his fine clothes and short dark hair topped his head. A broad, well trimmed beard hung from a chiseled chin.

“What do you mean, Captain Kenux?” asked Pux, fearing the answer. Whatever could injure Captain Kenux was something to worry about.

The other Yuxova sneered and spat with angry disgust. “Forukks have been felling trees and burning patches of forest since they reared their ugly faces. We’d been fighting them for days when our flanks were hit by a new force from the north.”

Pux frowned. “North? The Ghibok have no reason to fight us.”

“Not Ghibok,” Kenux all but hissed. “The Fallen have returned.”

“What! I thought they were just a legend.”

“Well this legend is destroying our army. They are already pressing upon the Tree of Ages. First Forukks, then the Fallen. Now to top it off we have an assassin lurking around. If my men and I had turned up a moment later then your human girl would be a pincushion right now.”

Dawn looked shocked at hearing someone had tried to kill her. The boys scanned the trees darkly, hands on their weapons.

Pux turned to Trey. “I must aid my own people; I fear I must leave you now.”

“We understand,” Trey said.

“Farewell, Trey, Zak. Stay safe Miss Dawn. Find happiness Liam,” said Pux. He then turned to Billy. “Bill, you have a bird on your head.”

“Shut up!” growled Billy.

Both Yuxova Captains mounted, Kenux onto the eagle, Pux onto Bo-bo and made ready to leave. The birds took to the air and circled the group a few times as they gained altitude.

The teens cleared the camp and set off southwest through the forest. Any movement or sound caused fear only to reveal small forest animals or branches moving in the wind. Around dusk the end of the trees was in sight and open fields stood before them. Beyond them was a ruined city that bore some resemblances with what Trey, Zak and Billy had once called home.

Fine mist pooled around the buildings’ remnants giving them a ghostlike quality. All seemed still within the city’s walls. The only sign of life was the collection of carrion birds that had swarmed the ruins. Craters had cleared numerous areas of buildings while fire had burned up anything wooden or material. The white walls were plagued with black patches like a cancer. Far off at the city’s centre, Trey could make out the bell tower and beside it, his home. Both looked untouched by the carnage to his relief.

“If only Pux was still here, he could scout out the city and tell us if it’s guarded,” sighed Dawn.

“It is guarded,” stated Trey. “If we try to go through the city we’ll have a fight on our hands.”

“The area around the city will be guarded for miles. To get around them could take days,” said Liam.

“I have an idea,” said Trey quietly, then paused in thought. “The city got its raw iron from mines beneath it and its surrounding area. Several severe accidents occurred and the mines were closed. This was before we were even born.”

“I know what you’re talking about but the mine only has one entrance. We’d only reach a dead end,” muttered Billy.

Zak shook his head. “No. It has a second exit. Before the last accident happened, the miners dug too far and breached the cliffs that separate us from Miankkuth. The last ‘accident’ was actually a cover-up just to close the mine and block the hole. Out of the fifty miners down there, only seven returned from the cover-up. My granddad was one of them,” Zak informed them. “We could find the blocked exit then just unblock it,” he added with a smile as he swung his axe.

“It can’t be any worse than marching through the city,” said Dawn.

“Are we decided?” Trey asked. When everyone confirmed he continued. “Time to head underground then,” he said as he started to head north.

Previous – Chapter 37. Loyalty.

Next – Chapter 39. Through the Mines.

As Nakai sprinted through the city things did not look good. The enemy siege weapons had taken their toll and he could see combat taking place on every battlement. Things were only going to get worse. Any men that he passed he sent forward to the gate to help his lieutenant.

The familiar streets that he had known all of his life looked so different now. As the castle came into view despair hit the commander. He could see flames through some of the castle’s windows. It did not look like it had been hit by any projectiles and surely no barbarians could have gotten inside yet.

He increased his pace and hurried towards the mountain fortress. Confusion struck him when he saw the doors were still firmly shut. He bounded up the steps leading to the door and knew that they were locked. He knocked, shouting his name, rank and business and that he must be let in. No answer came.

“Damn it,” he muttered. He could get in by blowing the door down with boom-balls then he could stop the traitor and any other threats within the castle but then the stronghold would be left open to enemies, or he could keep the door shut and stop the barbarians getting in but let the castle fall by some internal threat. When he thought about it the answer seemed obvious.

The doors were reduced to a pile of splinters as he threw a boomball at them. A jagged hole, large enough for Nakai to easily clamber through had been smashed into the once sturdy wood. Inside the castle was deathly silent.

There were no guards in sight; nobody was in view, dead or alive. Nakai did not encounter anyone on his journey to the audience chamber where the Lord should be. He eased open the chamber’s door and cautiously entered.

A sigh of relief passed his lips. Lord Baranox was seated on his throne just as he should be. His personal assistant, Miss Falati stood faithfully by his side.

“My Lord, where are all the guards and why do parts of the castle burn?” asked Nakai, doing all he could to keep his voice calm.

“The guards are down with the civilians. As for the fires, we had some small trouble. It is over now,” Baranox replied. “How goes the battle?”

“Not well. Parts of the city were destroyed by the siege weapons and the barbarians are slowly winning the fights for the battlements.” Nakai paused, thinking how to phrase his next few words. “They also enter by the main entrance to the city but the doors weren’t broken, nor were they opened from down there. They must have been opened by the device in the castle…which would mean there is a traitor among us.”

“Really?” said Lord Baranox in a strange tone. His eyes seemed to have a dull sheen to them.

“My Lord?” said Nakai in an uncertain voice.

A smile formed upon the Lord’s face, not a pleasant one, not even a mocking one, Nakai could not find words to describe it. Before Nakai had time to contemplate the strange behaviour he felt a

sharp pain in his stomach. He looked down and saw a knife embedded into his gut, held by the lord that Nakai had served his entire life.

Lord Baranox removed the knife and let it clatter onto the ground. He sat back in his throne and had a sip of wine. “We were always going to lose this battle. If it wasn’t for me every last citizen of Onlasar would have been butchered. I made a deal with the barbarian, Serka, that if I opened the gates then he would let me and a few others live, that way the blood of Onlasar would live on even after the city was destroyed. Can’t you see my logic?”

Nakai spat on the lord’s shoes and began to get to his feet. He had had many worse wounds than a stab from a dagger. After fighting barbarians for a decade, a knife wound was nothing. He would still live and he could still fight. Lord Baranox seemed to show no fear that Nakai was not dying, rather he seemed amused.

Pain stormed through Nakai’s body. He collapsed to the floor. His veins felt like fire coursed through them. Burning needles stabbed at every inch of his skin and his limbs felt like lead. The traitor had used poison on the blade.

“Soon the world will be enveloped in a wave of darkness and all light will be extinguished. Better to hide light in a cloak of black rather than let it die. Don’t you agree with me, Commander?”

Nakai could not hear anything his traitorous lord was saying. The only thing in the world for him at the moment was pain. His mind felt like it was being forced from his body. A small voice in his head kept telling him that if he stopped resisting the pain would disappear. Nakai managed a bitter laugh. He had been close to death too many times to listen to that voice. This was an occasion where pain was better than the void.

Laughing seemed to give him a small measure of strength. His mind fought its way back into control. He was not about to live through several battles just to die from something he could not fight. Life was often cruel in that kind of way.

“If I’m going to die then I’m going to do it fighting,” growled Nakai. It was the hardest fight in his life just to stand. Every moment felt like his last but against the odds he managed to pull himself to his feet, leaning on his sword like a walking stick, face to face with his former lord.

Lord Baranox could not believe his eyes as he watched the commander struggle to his feet. The sheer willpower needed to accomplish that was phenomenal. Baranox rose from his throne and placed his hand on his sword’s pommel, unsure what to expect.

“How about a duel to settle this argument on the fate of the city,” Nakai managed, turning a cough into a cocky chuckle with difficulty.

Under normal circumstances, Baranox would never have accepted as Nakai far outmatched him, but with the commander barely able to stand, he figured he had a very good chance at victory. “A duel it is then.” His slender sword slid from its elegant sheath with slow purpose.

Both men’s swords clashed together. The weight of the blade seemed almost too much for Nakai. He parried a blow at the last second then lunged at his opponent’s chest. It was easily blocked and countered. He cursed as he narrowly dodged a blow aimed at his head. Sweat ran down his face, blurring his vision. His every movement felt slow as though he was trying to fight under water.

Baranox aimed a blow at Nakai’s head that was sluggishly dodged, then he swung for his chest which was parried. Blow after blow struck Nakai’s blade until it escaped his grip and flew across the room.

The Commander collapsed to the floor, the strain of the fight had been too much for him. Baranox knew he had won. He leered down at the defeated man and placed the tip of his sword against his neck.

“How the mighty fall,” mocked Baranox.

Before he could register what happened next the former lord had Nakai’s boot in his groin. Using his last reserves of energy the commander jumped to his feet, punched Baranox in the nose then grabbed his sword arm, twisting it until it broke, taking his sword in the process.

Instinct took over. Nakai’s body reacted without conscious thought. Baranox was at his mercy yet his arms still swung the sword into his chest. He watched as the former lord’s body crumpled to the floor, blood pooling around him. Nakai himself dropped to the ground as the adrenaline began to drain away and the pain of the poison flooded his senses.

Miss Falati raced over to her Lord’s side with a cry, tears falling from her eyes. She dropped to her knees and embraced his body.

“My Lord. Don’t die! Please don’t leave me,” she sobbed. Baranox was still breathing. He opened his eyes and grasped his assistant’s hand.

An idea struck Nakai. He pulled a small combat knife from a sheath on his arm and crawled over to the woman and Baranox. He roughly pushed her to the side then grabbed hold of the injured man, putting the knife blade against his throat. He heard the woman take a sharp intake of air into her lungs.

“This man deserves death for the crimes he has committed against this great city. I might be willing to spare his life, providing you bring me the antidote to this damn poison.”

Miss Falati considered this for a moment. It looked like she might grab one of the swords and charge at him for hurting her Lord but she knew that Nakai would slit Baranox’s throat at a moment’s notice.

“Fine!” she snapped in defeat. “I will bring you the antidote.”

“If it’s not here in five minutes I will die but I’ll be taking this traitor with me. Do you understand?”

The woman nodded her head and ran out of the chamber. Nakai felt like sleeping despite the immense pain he was in but he knew he had to wait a little while longer. Baranox’s unconscious body was still bleeding, causing the mosaic floor to become slippery.

Each minute seemed an eternity to the commander. Every breath was a trip through the Abyss. He knew he could only stay alive for another minute at max. He tightened his grip on the knife, pushing it

more onto the traitor’s neck, drawing small beads of blood.

Just as Nakai prepared to deliver the deathblow, the door slammed open and hurrying feet clattered across the room. The assistant came into his view holding a vial of purple liquid. She handed it to him then stepped back.

“What have I got to lose,” he muttered to himself as he downed the substance. At first nothing changed. He had an aftertaste of wax but little else.

Pain unlike anything else he had ever felt rushed through his body causing the knife to grind deeper into Baranox’s throat. His assistant screamed at this. Slowly the pain ebbed away leaving only numbness in his limbs, a lack of strength and the pain he would expect from the fighting he had been doing. He dropped the knife onto the floor and rolled away from Baranox.

Miss Falati rushed to her lord’s side and checked his pulse. She sighed a breath of relief when she found it then began to lovingly clean his wounds.

“If we somehow survive this battle you will not be executed, merely exiled. You can go where you wish, just never show your faces here again,” growled Nakai as he stood and limped towards his sword.

He could have laid down and slept where he was the way he felt but there was still an invading army that needed to be crushed. He left the traitors and made his way up to the supply room of the castle. There he grabbed some energy pills and some bandages. Within a few moments he was ready to re-enter the battle.

Previous – Chapter 36. Blood in the Sand.

Chapter 38. Trouble in the Trees.