Ashan was communing with his vanahezhan as well, sending mounds of earth against the wind spirit. It would not be harmed by such things directly, but the presence of earth sapped its strength, and soon Rehada could feel the wind returning to her lungs. She took a deep breath, preparing for the next attack, but as she did the earth lifted beneath her and threw her a dozen feet through the air.
She landed on her back with a woof. She heard ringing in her ears as all other sound fell away. Her breath came in shallow gasps. She stared up at the blanket of gray clouds in the sky, wondering how she had come to be here.
The ringing peaked and then began to ebb. She heard an almighty crash, followed by a pounding that she could feel in the earth beneath her.
She raised her head and stared toward the keep. The vanahezhan-as tall as the keep itself-had burst through the wooden gates and was stalking toward them. Within the walls, the frothing form of a jalahezhan was pulling itself to full height. It looked like a water funnel, but then it too slipped over the wall and began to slide and glide over the snow toward them.
The presence of the jalahezhan could be felt, even at a distance. Coupled with the havahezhan, the elements opposed to fire, it was too much to fight, and Rehada could feel her control slipping away.
She stood and drew upon her suurahezhan, hoping it wasn’t too late. “Now, Ashan!”
Together they burned the spirit of air. She could feel the intensity, but she knew it wouldn’t be enough. Her energy was already flagging. Mere moments later, she collapsed. Her head hung low as pain rippled through her. The havahezhan had done something that had never happened before. It had torn her bonded spirit, leaving her soul bare. The only thing that had come close was those rare cases when her circlet had been taken from her unwillingly, but this felt infinitely worse. It felt as if a part of her had been ripped away, leaving her bloody and raw inside.
Ashan stood nearby, holding his own against the elder, but the tide had already begun to turn. He shook, his gentle face locked in a grimace.
And then he fell. The grass smoked as it was touched by his skin. He lay there, his chest unmoving, while the havahezhan descended upon the soldiers. Some screamed, but the sounds of their pain was swallowed by the thundering gale that now enveloped them.
One by one the streltsi dropped. One lay a few paces away from Rehada, his eyes already vacant. Small rocks and ice cut into his lifeless face, leaving small trails of red against his snow-white skin.
Rehada turned to see the elder suurahezhan slipping over the walls of Oshtoyets. She could no longer feel her bonded hezhan, but she could feel the elder, and it occurred to her how akin it felt to her. It was hundreds of yards away, but there was a purity about it that she could not help but admire. She wondered who it might have been in another life, how great it might be in the next.
Perhaps it had been her mother. Perhaps Ahya.
She stood, knowing what she was about to do was not wise, but knowing also that she would do it even if the hezhan claimed her. “To me!” she cried, rallying the few remaining soldiers. “To me, men of Khalakovo!”
They heard something in her voice, some small amount of hope, and five of them formed a guard in front of her. Two were sucked away by the raging wind, but the rest were able to escort her up toward the keep.
The jalahezhan had slithered down the hill, but the suurahezhan had moved faster. Rehada stood in its path, motioning the streltsi to stop and allow her to proceed.
The suurahezhan, wavering heat rising above the dark red surface of its skin, came to a halt before Rehada. It recognized her, and for the moment did not attack. Rehada threw aside her circlet-knowing this was no spirit to be enticed by mere stones-and spread her arms wide.“I am yours,”she said simply. Her mind was as resolute as it ever would be. There was no fear, only purpose and a willingness to give of herself.
The elder did not need her-it had already entered the world and had no need of a bridge-but it was intrigued, and it felt a kinship, the same kinship that Rehada felt with every bit of her heart.
Rehada stepped forward.
And felt the fire of the world.
It consumed her, gave light to the innermost recesses of her mind, those places she hadn’t wanted to visit, hadn’t wanted to uncover. But she had been ready for this-there was no longer anything left for her to hide.
The spirit felt this. It accepted her, and for the time being, granted her a bond.
She turned toward the havahezhan, which had sensed this new threat and was now twisting toward her. The Landed soldiers scrambled away, watching her with crazed eyes. They feared her, which was as it should be. She was flame. She was fire itself.
Her clothes burned away. She stood naked in the snow, pouring herself into one last effort as the havahezhan raged against her, hoping to knock her from her feet. But she was no mere candle to be snuffed by an errant breeze.
She could feel the pain of the wind spirit, could feel it slipping away toward Adhiya. Had it not been weakened already, it might have fought longer, but as it was, the suurahezhan was too strong, and soon the spirit of wind was lost, the last remnant of its existence a buffet of wind against the snow.
The vanahezhan was closing in, its earthen form looming large. Ashan had regained his feet. He seemed pained with exertion as he drew water up from beneath the earth, using the snow to infuse the earth spirit as it approached. More and more of its form was softened by the water, ablating it as the thing stalked forward.
The hezhan paused, however, and replenished itself with the muddy earth at its feet. It was slowed, but it would not be defeated. Not like this.
The jalahezhan reached two of the soldiers who were holding up their guns. It bore down on them, splitting around their simple defense and drowning them in moments.
The shot of a cannon brought Rehada’s attention toward the keep. A passing ship unleashed another cannon shot into the courtyard. Several more ships followed, each of them loosing blasts of their own.
The jalahezhan, perhaps sensing they were a greater threat, turned toward the oncoming ships. Droplets of water flew off of its body and up toward the nearest of them. More and more of it flowed like rain up and against the oncoming galleon, its body shrinking as it did so. It fell against the sails and the deck of the ship as the crewmen working frantically to prepare their dousing rods.
And then it reformed.
Musket fire snapped across the ship. Men shouted as the water spirit slipped around the men holding the dousing rods and attacked those that had yet to fire.
The vanahezhan had finished with the forward streltsi. Only two streltsi and the sotnik remained. Ashan was still trying to slow the approach of the vanahezhan. Rehada summoned the power of the suurahezhan once more, focusing a blast of heat against the spirit of earth.
The vanahezhan stopped. It seemed to gather its strength. A moment later the earth rolled before it like a wave upon the water. It traveled outward-tight and focused on Rehada and Ashan.
It struck, sending her flying. She landed with a thud as the wave of earth thundered onward and was lost among the sloping hills behind her.
She looked toward Ashan. He lay unmoving, unconscious or dead. The vanahezhan lumbered forward, mere moments from reaching him.
She poured everything she had left, but she had already given too much. She managed a gout of flame that lasted no longer than a breath, and then the suurahezhan released her, knowing she was now little more than a mere husk. The moment it did, however, it slipped back through the aether to Adhiya. The vanahezhan’s attack had weakened it-that and the demands Rehada had placed on it-and when it had released her, it had also released a critical bond that was keeping it squarely grounded to this world.
In a way she was glad, for she could no longer have controlled it, but in another it made her desperate, for she had been left utterly powerless to prevent the vanahezhan from reaching Ashan.
CHAPTER 65
The wind whipped around Nikandr, pushed harder and harder against his frame as he rushed toward the sea. His descent was slowing, but it seemed impossible to prevent himself from plummeting into the waves. Strangely,
