A Crumble of Walls (The Kin of Kings Book 4) (21 page)

He almost lost his grip on his wand as another terrible spell of pain took him down and sapped his strength.

“We have to get out of here!” he yelled through the agony. “More will come!”

But his words had no effect as everyone seemed to be disabling each other with psyche. It was a testament to the power of Fatholl’s Elves, as he had only about a fourth as many as Yeso.

Suddenly the spells stopped and everyone’s screams ceased. A scent came to the air, bitter and tart. Basen recognized it immediately.

Sanya.

She must be the psychic they’d sensed earlier. Now she’d broken the bastial energy in the air as she had when she’d killed Nick…and then again when she’d killed Alex. Who did she plan to kill now?

Basen raced down the short tunnel, hearing both armies of Elves behind him as he quickly made it to the front. He took a sharp turn and expected to see Sanya in front of him, but the tunnel was too dark.

Fatholl’s Elves were close behind, with Yeso’s behind them. Had Sanya done this to save Basen and his group from certain death? It seemed likely, as she’d done nothing earlier to alert Yeso’s Elves about the ambush.

Soon the odor was gone and Basen could feel his grasp on bastial energy returning. Screams of agony rang out behind him, but he didn’t slow. Fatholl’s Elves had known they might not make it out of these mountains.

Vithos was quicker than most and soon caught up to Basen.

“Do you sense anyone ahead of us?” Basen asked.

“We go too fast,” Vithos replied.

There was only one route to follow. Planks of wood barred the entrances to every other tunnel. It wasn’t long before Basen caught sight of someone running ahead of him. The figure was cloaked in loose robes of black and dragging an enormous satchel. Basen noticed a mask when the person glanced back.

Sanya?
Whatever she’d gotten herself into here, Basen didn’t care to know. The only thing that did matter was how whatever she had planned would affect his group.

Effie had told Basen about her encounter with Sanya and a woman claiming to be Sanya’s mother. There was no chance Sanya could still be angry with Basen for opening portals if she’d brought her mother back from the dead. But Cleve and Reela had heard from Sanya that her mother and Alex were now at peace after some horrendous event in the dungeons of Kyrro’s castle. None of it made much sense to Basen, and he hadn’t had time to consider any of it, but now, with Sanya leading the way, he regretted not finding out more about it.

Basen gained on her but separated from Vithos and the other Elves in the process. The tunnels through the mountain were mostly straight, giving a strong runner like him the advantage. The ground began to incline soon enough. It wouldn’t be long before they reached the top.

Ahead of him, the cloaked figure made a turn. Basen came to the same turn but stopped when he noticed a plank of wood nailed across the entrance to this tunnel. It wasn’t the way to the top. Sanya didn’t want to be caught, or she had something else in mind.

Basen chose the other route instead. But as he came through the short tunnel and into a vast cavern filled with sleeping men, he realized Sanya wasn’t just trying to avoid him; she wanted to avoid everyone.

The men awoke and began to shout to each other that something was happening.

“What is it?” someone asked Basen. “An attack?

“The Academy is trying to pass through the pathway,” he announced. “Get to the top!”

Hundreds rushed to grab their swords and bows.

“Hurry,” Basen said, knowing Fatholl’s Elves wouldn’t be far behind.

Bustling and screaming at each other to move, they exited the cavern quickly. Basen stayed at the back of their ranks. He looked over his shoulder to find Vithos and the Fatholl’s Elves coming in. He waved for them to follow.

The mountain peak turned out to be close, and soon Basen was relieved to feel the fresh air on his damp forehead. He didn’t know where Sanya had gone. Why had she helped them escape? Effie had mentioned something about Sanya telling Reela she would assist the Academy, but both Basen and Effie believed Sanya was just saying whatever she could to keep herself alive.

Fortunately, the peak of the southern end of the mountain was not like the northern side. Countless pillars of rock coming up from the ground provided cover for Basen to slink away without being noticed. As Vithos and Fatholl’s Elves reached the top, Basen called out to them.

Eventually all of them were running north while their human enemies went south, soon hidden behind the tall spikes of the mountaintop. But where were Yeso’s Elves? Basen continued to jog as he turned back to watch the opening in the ground.

“Where are they?” he asked Vithos.

“I heard them fighting. Not far.”

Yeso was the first to emerge, his face twisted by aggression. He started after Fatholl’s Elves but then checked behind him. Yeso could’ve shouted for human reinforcements, but he didn’t. Whatever the reason, Basen was thankful.

Fatholl had brought the Elves with the greatest stamina for this task, but already most of them had begun to slow more than Basen would’ve liked. It would be daylight before they got down the slope on the other side. Basen stayed a good distance ahead of everyone.

Before long, he reached the flat plains of the northern side. The first light of the sun came up over the western ridge, painting the clouds red. The Elvish shouting behind him was almost like the caws of morning birds.

Basen had a swig from the water skin he’d brought, then checked over his shoulder yet again. Yeso’s Elves didn’t appear to be as fit as Fatholl’s, struggling to keep up. Their determination was admirable, though it would soon prove to be foolish.

There were many more entrances down into the mountains, but Basen worried less and less about an army coming out of one to stop him the closer they got to the northern edge.

“Basen.” Sanya, with her mask removed, peered out from behind a jutting pillar. “Don’t tell anyone I’m here. There’s something you need to know.”

He stopped and realized there was nowhere he could run to find cover, while she had plenty of protection in case they exchanged fireballs. He wasn’t sure she could even cast one, though she certainly could kill him with psyche.

“What?”

“I noticed your Elves are lacking bows and arrows.”

We knew we’d be running a long distance.
“And?”

“What do you plan to do here?”

He looked behind him. He was far ahead, but he didn’t like standing idle.

“Helping our side in this war.”

She stomped her foot, showing the same anger he’d seen countless times in Tenred castle.

“Don’t be vague! I’m trying to help you.”

“Why?”

She looked even more perturbed as she gritted her teeth. “Just tell me! You don’t have much time.”

“Yeso is going to die.” He wasn’t sure why he was confiding in Sanya of all people, but he knew to trust his gut. “Still going to help us?”

“Yes,” she said. “First by telling you that some of Ulric’s troops now know about your escape and will try to block your way down the slope. You won’t be able to beat one of them. The largest one—he’ll stand out. Don’t try to fight your way past him. Just run around him because he doesn’t like to.”

“Doesn’t like to what?”

“Run!” She shook her fist and disappeared behind the pillar.

Basen didn’t know why, but he believed her.

As Sanya had warned, enemy troops began to pour out of an opening ahead of him. Among them was a giant of a man. With a torso as thick and strong as the trunk of a tree, he would’ve made Cleve look like a small boy if the two stood next to each other. He wielded a massive battle axe of orange and red bastial steel that looked too heavy for most men to lift with two hands, though he gripped it with one. In his other was a tall shield of the same precious metal, no doubt strong enough to block a fireball.

He let out a roar like a beast, then put on a sick grin. “Battle!” he yelled to the morning sky above, as if making an announcement to grab the attention of the heavens.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“Who you speak to?” Vithos asked as he came up to Basen, huffing for breath.

“Sanya. She told us we can’t beat him.” Basen pointed toward the group of men forming ranks.

“Them?” Vithos asked.

“No, just him,” Basen specified as he kept his finger aimed at the giant. There were about twenty others that looked like Fjallejons next to him. They didn’t share his fervor for battle, holding up their weapons with nervous, inexperienced hands, none wielding a bow.

Making matters worse, Yeso’s small army of Elves was closing in from behind with Fatholl and the others. There would be no time for this glorious “battle” that the giant had announced to the heavens.

There was only one option, and it was the opposite of what Sanya had said. They would have to fight through the giant, and quickly.

The moment Basen drew his wand, they began to charge. “Don’t waste psyche on the big one,” Basen advised Vithos as they took their places shoulder to shoulder. “It won’t work.”

“How you know?”

“I’m trusting Sanya.” Basen launched his first fireball, happy to see that his aim was true. It plummeted quickly upon his enemies, all of them scattering except for one. The giant actually moved toward it, catching it with his enormous shield. The force of it knocked him back, his massive boots sliding across the mountaintop. It came no closer to knocking him over than if Basen had sneezed on him.

Basen muttered a curse as he put away his wand and drew his blade. “How many of them can you pain at once?” he asked Vithos.

“Half,” Vithos replied to Basen’s shock. “They look weak. But I want hurt the big one.”

“Don’t try to hurt the big one,” Basen urged.

“I will.”

Basen dashed at a sharp angle to the side and called for Vithos to follow. Half of the humans chased after them, showing their flank to Basen’s allies. The giant gave Basen a passing glance as he crossed by, ready to protect himself from a fireball if needed. Basen didn’t have time to cast one.

“Now, Vithos,” he said as he charged the oncoming enemies.

Vithos screamed and slapped his hands together. The men groaned and gasped as the spell hit them. Half of them tumbled, tripping the others who’d managed to stay on their feet. Basen cut whatever flesh was in front of him, landing a few deadly blows. It wasn’t his priority. He just needed to maim as many as he could before they could get up.

“Fatholl!” Basen shouted without taking time to look. “The giant cannot be hurt. Run past him!” Basen circled around while the men he hadn’t had a chance to cut began to stand. Now with the mountain slope—the exit—behind him, he had a clear view of the terrible collision between Fatholl’s Elves and their enemies.

His advice to Fatholl was ignored, as many of the Elves had their hands directed at the giant. Their faces contorted with strain at first, then morphed into confusion, and then concern. Fatholl showed complete shock just before ducking under a surprisingly nimble swing from the giant’s massive battle axe.

Half of the other men had split to pursue Basen and Vithos. There were ten, as those Basen had cut remained on the ground licking their wounds. That still left five for him, and he hadn’t been trained to defend himself against more than one opponent.

He took his wand with his free hand as he backed away. The sight of it stopped all but two of them, and he hit them both with a single fireball.

Once they were on the ground nursing their burns, the other three seemed uncertain whether to give chase.

One soon did, yelling, “Come on!”

The others followed close behind. Basen was about to shoot the man in front but noticed one of the three approaching from the side, much faster than the other two. Basen aimed as he gathered energy. The man turned his shoulder inward and cursed loudly, but neither reaction protected him from the enormous force of heat that lifted the man off the ground. He rolled away and left a trail of smoke.

The other two screamed in aggression. Drained, Basen didn’t have the stamina to run from them. If he were to cast another fireball, it would be from his knees. He poured the last of his strength into getting his sword up and deflecting the first attack. He ducked under the second one, then stabbed his nearest enemy in the leg.