The drone of Alysand’s song filled the air again from below, and I heard Madi use her taunt ability.
Pachi zipped down the slope with her teleport ability and I retrieved my bow. Overlooking the battlefield, I could see several things had taken place in the short time I’d been busy with the archers. Tejón had an orc’s axe sticking out of a bone plate and was fighting beside Madi against a fresh squad of orcs. Alysand was limping backward, away from the third and final wyvern. The second lay bleeding on the roadside, its head a mushed pulp. The gunsinger’s horse lay in a smoking heap.
I charged an arrow with Vital Aim, aiming at the final addition to the battle—which was in many ways the source of the enemy’s power.
Ratkin Overlord
Level 26
HP: 8730/8730
Abilities: Ambush, Muster, Cleave
My arrow flew true and plunged into the ratkin’s eye. The overlord’s head snapped back, its raised sword clattering to the ground.
As Alysand rolled out of the way of another blast of flame, I lifted my bow to fire another Vital Aim shot at the wyvern. My efforts were interrupted by a second Silencing Shriek, however. We would need to end this the old-fashioned way.
I released my arrow, causing the wyvern to flinch away, then focused on the remaining orcs below.
I called out to Pachi, hoping to restore some sense to the scene below. Help Tejón. He can’t take much more! Pachi flashed again and felled an orc that had been about to sink its axe into Tejón’s exposed neck.
I took aim and released an arrow that whipped over Madi’s shoulder and felled an orc before her. She used the moment to her benefit and tackled another orc. Madi fell on the creature, drawing her dagger to finish the job. The remaining orc raised his axe to cut her down, but I was too quick, my arrow plunging into its chest.
Tejón and Pachi finished their fights, and the only thing that remained was one massive and pissed-off fire snake. Alysand continued to dart side to side, dodging the occasional gout of flame.
“Bring it down!” Madi bellowed, hurling one of her axes. It bounced off the wyvern’s hide, but where the blade had struck, a line of blood showed. It was not invulnerable. I rained arrows down on its head from my perch. One sunk into the wyvern’s eye at last.
I was hoping that the Silence timer would expire soon, and no doubt there were only ten or fifteen seconds left. Yet even as Alysand continued to blast away scales and mar the wyvern’s hide, Pachi and Tejón attacked.
Though the wyvern stood taller on its long, wiry legs, and its head snapped out, sinking vicious teeth into Pachi’s back, the two overpowered it. Tejón took the wyvern’s neck in his mouth and used his body weight to pull it to the ground. Pachi transported away, leaving the creature’s mouth to snap closed on thin air. Then she returned again from the other direction, taking the wyvern just below its head. With a savage twist, she snapped its spine.
As quickly as it had begun, the ambush was over. Our party was as disheveled as a half-plucked chicken, and the bodies of our enemies lay at our feet, evidence of the Rat King’s ever-growing influence. The afternoon sun shone down gently, a fair lie that did little to calm the knowledge that this was only a fragment of the trouble to come.
2: “If you leave your home behind, there is no promise, and certainly no guarantee it’ll be the same when you return.”
— Corell Amredor
ALYSAND
The taste of blood and grit filled my mouth, two sensations that were oddly comforting. They were as familiar and welcome as old friends, and I supposed they had become so after long years of company.
“Madi, you and Tejón need to rest,” I said. “Let’s see to those wounds.” I waved her protests down. “Listen to me. You are worse off than you know.” Thankfully, the stubborn warrior yielded to my request and leaned against the hill on the side of the road, her leg protruding awkwardly as the arrow in her hip jutted to the side.
In the fight, she had apparently ripped out the arrow that had taken her in the shoulder. Now, a bloody hole marked where it had been.
“Should have left it in, girl,” I said as I examined the wound. “It will take a while to heal and may bother you afterward until you can find a proper healer or apothecary. For now, this will help. But this is going to hurt. Brace yourself.” I took the small pouch of tar leaf from my satchel and opened it. Removing just a pinch, I blew the powder into the wound. Immediately it began to coagulate the blood that continued to seep from the wound, and the warrior screamed.
I had to step away from her for a moment. I’d taken a beating myself and didn’t need to be thrashed about. When she calmed, I squatted down near the arrow in her hip. After a gentle tug, I determined it was indeed a barbed arrow.
“Just rip it out, I can take it,” Madi said bravely, though a look at her gray face made the boast almost laughable.
I smiled and patted her on the shoulder. “I think not, my friend. I know another way, and though it will still cause pain, it won’t be nearly so bad as pulling it by force.”
Circling the shaft with one hand, and holding the girl’s hip with the other, I sang the Arrow Song. It was a combined tune of two older melodies, the Song of Wood and the Song of Steel. Long ago, a bullet bard had found that by singing to
