Griffin's Destiny

himself magically from the Nameless One. He had been practicing; when first he had approached Tono Castle, he imagined himself enshrouded by the surrounding darkness. He had walked virtually undetected through the bustling camp, and dropped his concealment only when he had located Prince Raidan.

Avoiding detection by a trained mage would be far more difficult than hiding himself from soldiers and camp servants. He had the advantage of distraction on his side, though. Sonoe was preoccupied with harrying the Soldarans. He counted on her remaining so focused on the battle that she would not detect him until it was too late.

With each passing moment, the sky grew lighter. Soon, Ashinji realized, he would lose the cover of darkness. He reined in the flagging horse, and when the animal stumbled to a halt, he vaulted to the ground and darted in among a stand of alders. A small stream gurgled past the roots of the trees. The ground ahead opened out into fallow fields covered in broad-leafed weeds and wild grasses. A dirt path ran along a drainage ditch, leading arrow-straight toward the battle.

The horse meandered out into the field and bent its head to crop the grass. Ashinji, rather than imagining himself part of the darkness, sought to merge with the landscape, to become no more than a ripple kicked up in the grass by the breeze. With that image lodged in his mind, he left the shelter of the trees and set off.

Another flash of blue light alerted him to the mages’ position, back and to the right of the epicenter of the battle. He changed course and left the path, angling across the uneven earth. Crickets chirped in the coarse clumps of grass. A ground-nesting bird, flushed from its hiding place by some unseen predator, skittered off on a low trajectory, its wings making a whirring noise as it flew. The smell of soil, still moist from the spring rains, filled his nostrils with the rich, dark scent of fecundity.

Ashinji glided along like a wisp of morning mist, silent and invisible. From over his left shoulder, the first rays of the new sun stabbed heavenward, bathing the heights with gold. The light raced down and across the valley floor toward him, putting the night’s shadows to flight. Up ahead, he could see the battle.

He spotted the black boar on gold of his father’s banner, marking the place where Lord Sen stood, directing the action. He wondered if Sadaiyo was there as well, but then decided his brother most likely stood in the thick of things, claiming his share of kills. Sadaiyo might be vicious, sadistic, and manipulative, but cowardice had never been one of his faults.

The elves held their own, at least for now. They had the advantage here at the bottleneck of the pass, where Sen could use his smaller force to maximum effectiveness. The Soldarans found themselves blocked in and pinned down just inside the cut, while withering arrow fire from the elven archers raked their position.

Ashinji didn’t know the exact battle plan, but he could guess.

Father is fighting a holding action here, in order to delay the Soldarans for a time. This must be part of some sort of ambush. There’re troops on the ridges, waiting for Father to lure the Soldarans into the trap.

So far, things seemed to be going according to plan. Ashinji had no idea when Lord Sen would give the order to retreat, but he knew he had to get to Sonoe before that happened.

He reached down to touch the bag at his belt that held the spirit box. He found it hard to believe something so small could hold an entity as powerful as the Nameless One.

But it’s not truly nameless, is it? In truth, its…no, his name will be his undoing. All I have to do is speak it.

Ashinji slowed to a halt, then hunkered down to the ground, searching with both eyesight and magical sense for the creature that wore Sonoe’s flesh. He had no trouble finding her-she glowed like fire in the fresh daylight- and he was relieved to see that she stood well apart from his father’s entourage. He began to whisper; he didn’t know why, but it just felt like the right thing to do.

“Grass, wind, earth, grass, air, earth, air,…” Cautiously, he crept forward.

He paused a stone’s throw behind the former Kirian. She stood unmoving, arms relaxed by her sides. Ashinji could not see her face, but he heard her voice, murmuring in a singsong cadence. With his own chant still on his lips, he freed the spirit box from the pouch at his waist.

Abruptly, Sonoe’s arms jerked up and twin blue fireballs exploded from her fingertips, arching high overhead to fall, spinning and sparking, amid the seething mass of humans bunched at the mouth of the pass. As the fireballs detonated among the screaming Soldarans, the concussive force of the blast hit Ashinji like a fist, not so hard that it knocked him over, but strong enough to push the breath from his lungs.

Strong enough, also, to stop his incantation.

Sonoe turned and saw him.

Her eyes, once green but now blood red, narrowed.

“You!” she hissed.

Ashinji opened the spirit box and shouted, “Shiura Onjara, I command you to leave that body and come into this vessel!”

Nothing happened.

Ashinji’s heart sank as the creature laughed-a deep, throaty, sound. He looked despairingly at the spirit box in his hands.

What did I do wrong?

“Fool!” Sonoe rasped. “Did the Kirians think I would be caught so easily? Then they are even more stupid than I thought!” Before Ashinji could react, she rushed him with unnatural swiftness, and her fingers locked around his throat like a vise. “That they sent you is further proof of their weakness!”

Ashinji grabbed Sonoe’s wrists and attempted to break her grip, but he might as well have tried snapping iron bands. Her fingers squeezed; his senses shredded like clouds before a strong wind.

The spirit box tumbled to the ground.

Without warning, Sonoe released him and he fell back, choking and gasping. His knees buckled and the earth rushed up to slam him in the head. As he lay helpless, the sound of multiple battle horns brayed, signaling the retreat. A great roar-the noise of many voices raised in a shout of triumph-filled the air.

Get up! his mind screamed. Move! You can’t stay here!

Desperately, Ashinji scrambled to his feet, dizzy and nauseous.

Where is Sonoe?

He looked around, groaning from the pain in his neck as he turned his head.

Sonoe had gone, vanished like dew at sunrise. The elven forces were in full retreat, fleeing back toward the castle.

As he bent down to retrieve the spirit box, the Soldaran army came pouring from the mouth of the pass like flood waters over a broken dam.

Shit! I’m standing right in their path!

He turned and ran.

The ground beneath him shook from the impact of thousands of pounding feet.

This is madness! I can’t outrun an army!

He staggered to a halt and swung around to face the oncoming wave. A line of cavalry raced ahead of the infantry and within moments, they would be upon him. He drew his sword and raised it, two-handed, in preparation, then began to chant.

The cavalry line reached him…and parted like water around a boulder. The horses seemed to know he stood there and swerved to avoid him, but their riders appeared oblivious to his presence. Ashinji waited until the line had almost passed, picked his target, then swung.

The human toppled over his mount’s rump and hit the ground with a rattling crash. The horse careened off at