Warlord from the Wardstone seemed nonexistent.
A wave of anger passed over him and he focused the emotion on the demon beast with all he had. He held out the Tokamac crystal and unleashed a crackling bolt of energy that charred nearly half of the creature’s flailing tentacles to ash. This allowed several giants the chance to charge in and attack. A heartbeat later, the creature used its own reserves of magical power and pummeled Hyden backward through the rubble as if he were a leaf in a storm. Hyden landed well, almost cat-like. The power of the crystalized dragon tear dangling at his neck added to his agility and kept him from crashing. Then, out of nowhere, a hot, concussive blast sent all of his thoughts from his brain. The Tokamac Verge fell to the floor with a clunk as Hyden went stumbling down with it. He tried to stand up and get air back into his lungs, but stumbled back over. A pair of guardians rushed past him to divert the powerful devil’s attention. Then Jicks grabbed Hyden and the crystal from the rubble and dragged him behind a partially fallen wall.
Blackness flooded Hyden’s vision, save for a single white swirl that found the center and forced the darkness back. He heard Jicks’s voice cry out in fear, and the deep, gasping sound of someone as they suddenly sucked air. Cade’s voice spoke out, but the words spun away to the edges of Hyden’s sanity.
Slowly, a misty shape began to form. In his mind’s eye, a curvaceous woman appeared. Her arms beckoned him closer, and her eyes softened in welcome.
The goddess.
Bathed in her presence, Hyden’s thoughts regathered themselves. She was there for him; there was reason to hope, but still, something about her was changing. It was like he was with her instead of just envisioning her in his mind’s eye. For a moment, Hyden panicked. He felt his body somewhere in the distance as it slowly let go of his soul. Then all he could feel was a frigid mist and the goddess’s loving embrace.
The Warlord’s hordes found no easy victims in Castlemont, but that didn’t stop the slaughter. The breed giants of Locar spotted the demons from their watchtowers and came to King Jarrek’s aid in force. With tree trunk clubs, spear-launching dragon guns, and savage intent, they raged into the hellborn like the half-primal beasts they were.
King Jarrek’s soldiers had become builders. Neither they, nor the dwarves helping them, were prepared for the sudden attack. Using tools and anything else they could find, they defended themselves with all they had. Eventually, the weapons that had been cached were found and distributed, but even with their axes, swords, and crossbows they were no match for the ever-growing number of hellspawn. The breed giants’ attack brought them time, though.
The dwarves led the Red Wolf king and as many innocents as they could save into the caves and mine tunnels under the city. The Warlord’s horde turned toward Locar and the wild half-breeds’ attack. Even with the effective dragon guns, and the brute force the breed brought to battle with them, they were overrun. Dark magic, and violent acts so mindless and brutal that they could only be called evil, ripped through the breed before the sun rose to end that first night. By the next night, the whole city of Castlemont, and Locar as well, was alive and crawling with devils, demons, and skittering, slithering hellspawn.
Only the most well-hidden groups of refugees survived them. The rest were rooted out and devoured.
The Warlord felt wholly confident with his amassed army. To wait for more of his minions would only delay his conquest. There were more wingless creatures and far fewer flying ones than he had hoped. The march across the continent would be slow but pleasurable, for the huge city of Dreen was just over the mountains and directly in his path. The hellborn that hadn’t joined him yet could catch up or not. He didn’t care. Knowing he had an army that could chew through the land to Xwarda unscathed was all that mattered to the Hell Master.
Just before dawn of the third day, he gave the order to start east toward Dreen. Like a slow, oozing puddle of spilled sludge, the horde made its way over the Wilder Mountains and into Valleya.
The Red City was half empty, and those remaining were in the process of trying to flee with the horse lords. Lord Gregory had refused to allow livestock leave the city before the women and children. Now, herd masters fought each other, and their terrified horses, to win free of the city gates as the demon spawn swarmed over the walls in a hungry fury.
Cresson had heard Hyden Hawk’s warning, and Master Wizard Sholt had followed it up with news of what was happening in Westland. Other wizards from Castlemont had warned those in Dreen, as well. Lord Gregory had issued the order to evacuate as soon as he learned they were gathering in Castlemont. To him it was obvious where the horde was going. His command to flee the Red City saved thousands and thousands of lives, and almost as many horses. Those who didn’t get out were swallowed in the bloodthirsty black maw of the Warlord’s army.
Lord Gregory, with Lady Trella and her two young Westland-born handmaidens, steered their carriage toward Oktin. From there, the Lion Lord planned to cut back west and north. He was beyond his fighting days now. All he wanted was to get his wife safely home to Lakebottom Stronghold. He was no coward, by any means. In his day he had fought enough battles and brawls for any dozen men. If he and the High King somehow survived this horrendous foe, he swore to himself that he would beg Mikahl to release him from his duties. His days as a hero were done.
Chapter 54
“Oh, Hyden,” the misty form of the goddess spoke in a voice of tinkling chimes. “Don’t you understand?”
Hyden shrugged. He was still trying to figure out why this audience with his goddess felt so different to the others.
She smiled, seeing his confusion. “You’ve died,” she said simply. “At least your mortal body has.” She put her hand on his bicep. Oddly, he noticed that her touch on his skin felt solid and cool, even though she seemed to be made out of mist. “You cannot afford to get caught up in the moment. It’s the very traits that caused the greater gods to choose you that keep drawing you from your purpose. You must weigh your loyalty to friends and family, and your sense of honor, against the balance of the whole. What are you fighting for here?”
“What does it matter, if I’ve already died?” Hyden asked.
“You’ve powerful friends, Hyden Hawk. You cannot waste your efforts battling a single demon in Afdeon when your brother is leading thousands of them toward Xwarda. What do you hope to achieve?”
Hyden dropped his gaze shamefully. “Must I kill Gerard?” he asked. “If I do, I will surely die, too.”
“The Abbadon is not Gerard,” she said a little more forcefully. “And you’ve already died, Hyden. Your brother chose his own path. He was consumed by that thing, and you should be battling it this very moment. The idea that the brother you remember is still somewhere inside the beast is foolish. Gerard is gone. If any bit of him still lingers, it is that corrupt, jealous part of him, and it must be destroyed or banished with the rest. The very people you love will fall victim if you fail.”
“But how do I get to Xwarda?” Hyden asked. “The teleportals all open into the Nethers now. I… I don’t…”
“If you had been exploring your god-given powers, instead of planning unnecessary adventures to find trinkets you could retrieve in minutes, you’d know.” her voice had a hard edge to it. She was angry. “Where did you send Talon? Your familiar’s place is with you.” Her voice softened and she touched his cheek. “Lucky for us all that you have made some mighty friends along the way. Without one of them, we’d all be doomed.” She smiled and touched his nose lovingly with a fingertip. She drew her face very near his and it seemed as if she might kiss him, but she stopped and whispered, “Always remember who your true friends are, Hyden. Never forget them.” Then her lips moved to his cheek and he was drifting.
“Is he dead?” Durge asked.
“I think he is,” Jicks replied with a sniffle.
A trio of roars erupted like thunder outside the walls of Afdeon, one after the other. They were angry sounds, low and guttural, and from something absolutely massive. Suddenly, Durge’s eyes glazed over and his movements became mechanical. He bent down to pick up Hyden’s limp body and carried it back to the lift. Jicks wiped away his tears and followed dutifully. A moment later they were rising up onto the cold floor where Hyden accidentally
