‘He’s down! Lockesh is down!’
‘Sundering! Sundering!’
Panic sped through the army like a gust of wind across the water.
‘No, no, no!’ gasped Hynd, but he had no breath in his body. ‘There’s no Sundering. Turn. You have to turn and fight.’
He pulled himself back to his feet. There was fire everywhere. He couldn’t count the dead through the smoke. He heard someone yell for order, for a push back against the ClawBound, but there was no way for the soldiers through the panicked mage lines.
Hynd stumbled again. Men were everywhere. Mages were fleeing into the burning side streets. Panthers and elves ran after them, brought them down like game in a hunt. Hynd almost sampled the mana spectrum but feared what he would find. Lockesh was down. All the shields were down.
Hynd didn’t know what to do. He was surrounded by his own people but felt so vulnerable. Still the ClawBound attacked and now there was shouting from the army ahead.
‘Here they come!’ screamed a voice. ‘Archers! Archers on the rooftops. Get me shields. Hynd!’
It was Jeral, somewhere nearby, but Hynd couldn’t think straight. He heard a panther roar and jumped back, startled, only to find himself right next to Jeral. The captain hacked to the other side and Hynd heard an animal howl in pain.
‘Cast,’ said Jeral, backing away towards the centre of the army, fingers itching at the scars on his cheeks. ‘You can do it.’
‘I can’t,’ said Hynd. ‘Lockesh is gone. I can’t…’
Hynd felt a breeze pass by his left ear and saw an arrow slap into the mud. The next instant he felt an impact in his left shoulder. He grunted and stumbled.
‘I’m hit,’ he said. ‘Jeral, I’m hit.’
Hynd’s vision tunnelled. He tried to drag in a breath but it wouldn’t come. He pawed at his throat but his fingers were numb. He felt his legs give way and he fell to his knees. A searing pain flashed down his body, encasing him. Every nerve screamed. Hynd scrabbled at his throat. The pressure grew and he tried to gasp but there was nothing. No air and his mouth wouldn’t open.
‘All right, Hynd, I’ve got you. You’ll be all right,’ said Jeral.
Hynd pitched forward onto his face, unable to turn his head or put out his hands to break his fall. His eyes were wide but he was blind. The pain reached a crescendo and he could not give it voice. The sound of battle faded and the last thing he heard was Jeral shouting for help.
Chapter 37
Garan seeks death at every turn. Does, then, the human spirit need to evolve to properly embrace immortality?
From On Immortality by Ystormun, Lord of Calaius
Pelyn saw it happen and knew their chance had come. A great wash of flame had erupted in the midst of the enemy and the castings had stopped. She had seen them panic and a human had been thrown into the air. The ClawBound must have lost many but their attack never faltered. She could only hope Auum had been watching too, wherever he was.
She roared the order to charge and led three hundred from the hall of the Al-Arynaar into the central ring, where the human advance had stalled. Archers surged up the sides of tottering buildings and began to shoot. Arrows finally found their targets; the magical shields were gone.
Pelyn had the Al-Arynaar in a single line leading the hastily trained Katuran militia. Elsewhere, ready to face other human forces, Tulan and Ephram had similar numbers. Every other Katuran had been ordered back to the lake and the falls, as far south as they could go before the blank rock faces stopped them.
The humans outnumbered her people by five to one, but without their magic Pelyn doubted their courage. She raced around the edge of the burning, collapsed courthouse and into the ring, where men panicked and elven temples burned.
Pelyn howled her fury and ran harder. The enemy saw her and, after a moment’s shock, formed up on their commander’s orders. Arrows flew from behind their front ranks and three of her Al-Arynaar fell. So did some Katurans who would never get to defend their city after all. The charge did not falter.
Pelyn and her front line crashed into the humans. Pelyn caught a sword on the hilt of her blade, turned it aside and thumped a punch into the man’s face. She cut her sword back across his chest and kicked him hard in the ribs, sending him down among his fellows.
Two more came at her. She ducked a swipe at her head and whipped out her left fist, feeling it break teeth and split lips. Pelyn blocked a thrust to her midriff as she straightened then paced back, needing a breath. The soldier came at her again, overhead this time. She got her sword into position just in time and turned the blow aside. She kicked out straight, catching him in the stomach. He was fast, and his next strike cut her cheek while she tried to fend him away.
Next to her, an Al-Arynaar fell, his face bloodied and his skull split. A Katuran ula raced into the gap and delivered a massive blow with a shovel, slicing his enemy’s face open from right eye to left cheek, breaking bones and knocking him from his feet. The human clattered into Pelyn’s attacker and she seized her chance to bury her blade in his chest through his leather armour.
The shovel wielder was quickly cut down, but the Katurans kept coming. Another filled the gap, jabbing out with a long pitchfork, keeping his target well back. Pelyn moved into the space. She dropped to her haunches and swept her blade through her victim’s knees, pushed upright and jabbed out, her blow glancing off an enemy blade and into her target’s neck.
Pelyn breathed hard. Her heart was racing and the sweat was already pouring from her. Her arms ached and her legs were trembling. She needed water. She needed nectar. She would get neither. Promising herself as much of both as she could take when the battle was done, she shook her head to clear her vision and threw herself back into the fight.
Auum saw the last of the spotter mages fall, his shadow wings failing him. His poison archers were lords of the higher ground now and they wreaked havoc in the central ring. Auum brought his Tais with him into a side street leading into the marketplace. Men were breaking ranks and running towards him — mages seeking escape. Claws chased them down.
‘Marack, get word to Graf and Merrat. They have to attack now. Then come back west to join Acclan. Acclan, go west with Oryaal and Illast. The Katurans must hit the enemy there too before their magic returns. Tais, we move.’
Auum raced towards the marketplace with Ulysan, Thrynn and Ataan. Here the humans were attacked from in front and behind. Pelyn had redeemed herself at last and the ClawBound… Perhaps Auum’s words, spoken an age ago in the depths of the rainforest, had reached Serrin after all. It hardly mattered. They were here now and they had changed the course of the battle.
They ran in, hurdling the bodies of dead mages and running beside panthers racing to rejoin their Bound elves once more. Entering the marketplace, Auum saw the extent of the chaos the ClawBound had caused. They were still on the attack at the northern end of the market by the part-collapsed temple of Yniss, holding their line at the end of the street to prevent flanking. Archers perched in the burned rafters fired over their heads into the enemy.
To the south Pelyn’s Katurans and Al-Arynaar were holding against an organised defence, while in the centre mages with nothing but daggers were looking for soldiers to protect them. The cohesion of the army had gone completely and humans were scattered all over the central ring, most of them desperate to find a way out.
‘Get forward and break the attack on Pelyn,’ said Auum.
Human bowmen were firing into the rear of Pelyn’s lines and up into the buildings on the edge of the ring, trying to dislodge his archers. Dead ahead, soldiers guarding the flank and the mages in their midst saw the TaiGethen charge and turned to face them.
‘Jaqrui,’ he called.
