Exodus of the Xandim (GOLLANCZ S.F.) (50 page)

‘Do you see, Phaerie? Do you see now?’ Corisand cried. ‘These are not true horses that you ride – they are slaves, imprisoned in their equine form by a spell of the
Forest Lord. All down these long ages, Hellorin has been lying to his people. These were no lowly mortals like the other slaves, but a tribe of shapeshifters – and that makes them magic
users. Do you like the idea that your ruler has lied to you all this time? Can your consciences truly live with the enslavement of an entire civilised race?’

For a moment there was only the uneasy muttering of Phaerie voices, and what sounded like a number of arguments breaking out within the barn, then Tiolani’s voice rose up above the babble.
‘Lies!’ she screeched. ‘You fools, you idiots, don’t you see? It’s all an illusion. That’s a Wizard out there, hiding like a coward behind that shield. All she
has is an ordinary horse. All the rest is an illusion.
She’s
the one behind it all.’

Abruptly, the tone of the voices changed to anger. The barn doors burst open and the Phaerie warriors poured forth, with Tiolani at their head. A storm of arrows came at the Wizard and Windeye,
and they were hit by a hurricane of spells. Whirlwinds of soil and stones erupted out of the ground, hurtling upward to strike at them from below, then the sky darkened and hailstones the size of
fists came smashing down to shatter on Iriana’s shield, sending the horses in the fields, trapped between the two onslaughts, into a frenzy.

‘Change back, Corisand – quick!’ Iriana yelled. ‘Get us aloft.’

Corisand made the fastest change she had ever done, and Iriana, giving herself a boost with her magic, sprang onto her back. Corisand took off like a rocket with a fusillade of arrows and spells
bouncing off Iriana’s shield. Though the Wizard was desperate to retaliate with her own magic, she restrained herself and stood firm, pouring all her energy into the shield, though she knew
that her strength could only hold out for so long. Already she could feel the strains upon her power caused by fighting off the alien magic of the Phaerie.

Corisand was calling to the Xandim; rallying them, telling them that if they followed her, she would free them for ever from Phaerie domination. Hearing the Windeye’s call to arms, the
steeds of the Phaerie ambushers rebelled against their riders; bucking, plunging and twisting in midair, doing everything they could to rid themselves of their masters. The storm of arrows ceased
and the attacking spells faltered, leaving Iriana with a moment’s respite in which to catch her breath.

Then suddenly, to Corisand’s horror, she heard a shout from her right. The second wave of attackers, led by Cordain, rose up from behind the city walls and came charging down upon herself
and Iriana, beginning the attack anew.

The Windeye felt the jolt of shock and fear strike through her friend. It echoed her own. ‘Bat turds!’ Iriana swore. ‘Where in perdition are the others with their
distraction?’

‘What the bloody blazes do you mean, you can’t do it?’ Taine’s fingers dug into Aelwen’s shoulders hard enough to bruise her, his face distorted
with fury.

Aelwen quailed, unable to meet the anger and contempt in his stare. Suddenly, when it came to the sticking point, all the doubts and regrets she’d been harbouring since her escape from
Eliorand had come down upon her like an avalanche, paralysing her in an agony of indecision. ‘I – I can’t!’ she cried. ‘I just can’t. When I tried to apport, all
that would come into my mind was the Dwelven tearing those warriors apart in the cave. This is my city. These are my people – innocent people who had nothing to do with Hellorin’s
wickedness or Tiolani’s machinations, and—’

‘And Corisand and Iriana are our companions,’ Taine shouted at her. ‘They’re committed now. You’ll be killing
them
if you let them down. What did you think
was going to happen? That we’d just walk into Eliorand and ask that bitch Tiolani to let the Xandim go? I don’t want the blood of innocents on my hands either – none of us do
– but we have no choice.’

‘The Xandim are innocent too, not to mention all the poor Dwelven that were massacred. What of them?’ Now Kaldath, grim as death, was also shouting at her. And already, from the
direction of the stables, the ghastly sounds of battle had been raised.

With a snarl, Taine thrust her away. ‘Come on, Kaldath, we’ll ride. They’ll be too focused on what’s happening in the stables to notice us now, and Iriana needs that
diversion.’ He turned a fulminating glare on Aelwen. ‘You can follow when – or if – you decide whose side you’re on.’

With a bound they took to the air, heading towards the city with the Dwelven streaming out behind them. Aelwen hesitated, biting her lip.

‘The only chance you’ll have of influencing what happens is to go with them.’ Dael emerged from his hiding place in the bushes. ‘This is not the time for doubts. If you
don’t make up your mind which side you’re on, you’ll find yourself hated by both. No matter how things might stand between you and Taine, don’t forget that you left Eliorand
before you knew he was still alive. Even then, you knew in your heart that what the Phaerie were doing was wrong.’

How could a mere human possibly be so wise? But he was right. With a nod of thanks Aelwen urged her horse skyward. It wasn’t too late to play her part. Even if the others never forgave her
hesitation, at least she would do her best to make amends.

Suddenly the Wizard and Windeye were at the epicentre of a vortex of spells and missiles as Hellorin’s Counsellor urged his fighters towards them. The Wild magic of the
Phaerie was centred upon the forces of nature at their most extreme. A howling gale tore across the stable complex, buffeting Iriana and Corisand’s shield. More black clouds came boiling
across the sky to blot out the stars, and lightning bolts came sizzling through the air to strike Iriana’s magical barrier. Petrifaction spells impacted the shield, seeking the tiniest chink
in Iriana’s defences so that they could turn Wizard and Windeye to stone, and still the hail came hammering down. Great ropes of thorny bramble, thicker than a strong man’s arm, erupted
out of the ground amid the screaming, terrified Xandim, and reached up to wrap themselves around the field of magical force that enclosed the companions, tightening their grip and trying to pull
Corisand and Iriana down.

The Wizard was being battered between her own magic and that of the Phaerie, beaten between the two like a sword blade between a hammer and an anvil. She reeled, knocked forward across
Corisand’s neck as a renewed fusillade of spells crashed into her shield.

‘Grab hold of the Fialan and use it to reinforce the shield,’ the Windeye urged her. Iriana, her face already buried in Corisand’s mane, reached down to snatch at the leather
pouch that swung on its thong round the arching grey neck, but she was hampered by her lack of vision. She was sharing the Windeye’s eyesight, but Corisand had a blind spot directly beneath
her own head.

Corisand glanced back at the city. ‘Come on, Kaldath,’ she muttered. ‘What’s keeping you?’ Targeting Cordain’s forces, she tried to make their mounts rebel,
but clearly the Counsellor had seen the fate of Tiolani’s warriors, for this time the horses remained under a spell of iron control cast by their Phaerie riders. The Xandim who were penned in
the fields, trapped in the midst of the battle, were now a screaming, seething mass of terror and confusion, and the warriors’ mounts caught that panic, which only made them more vulnerable
to the control of their masters who whipped and spurred them mercilessly onwards. Tiolani’s group took their lead from Cordain’s forces, and those who remained mounted, including
Tiolani herself, were starting to regain control of their horses.

Realising that her attempts were only causing suffering, Corisand stopped trying to subvert the ridden steeds and joined her own magic, the unique powers of a Windeye, to that of Iriana, who was
still trying to grasp at the wildly swinging Fialan. She spun the air around the Wizard’s shield and, though it remained as transparent as ever from the inside, to the Phaerie assailants on
the outside it turned into a globe of gleaming silver with a blinding mirror sheen. Suddenly the Phaerie found their spells being reflected back at them, and before they had time to realise what
was happening they were reeling beneath a bombardment of their own magic, and were being slaughtered, warriors and their mounts alike, by their own hail and lightning. Here and there a petrifaction
spell would find a target, and to Corisand’s horror, both horse and rider would turn to stone in midair and go hurtling to the ground to smash into a thousand pieces.

At the sight of her own people suffering and dying, Corisand’s resolution wavered. In her equine form she was susceptible to the instincts of a horse, which did not see the bigger picture,
but simply compelled her to protect the herd. Despite Iriana’s frantic urgings, the reflective powers of her shield began to falter and fail.

‘Corisand,’ the Wizard said sharply. ‘I know this must be very hard, but it’s your one chance to free your people from slavery.’

‘But they’re dying . . .’

‘So will we be in a minute, and what good will that serve? I can’t keep this shield up for ever. If you don’t stick to the plan we’re all doomed.’

Iriana dug her heels hard into Corisand’s sides, something she would never have dreamed of doing under normal circumstances. ‘Pull yourself together! We’ve all lost people we
love. I lost Avithan and Seyka – don’t you think I know how much this hurts you? And what about Dael with Athina? My heart goes out to you, Corisand, but you’ve
got
to
keep fighting!’

The urgency in Iriana’s voice finally penetrated the Windeye’s distress. As if a fog had cleared from her mind, she realised that her friend was right. She pulled her reflective
spell back into place – then suddenly she heard the sound she’d been waiting for. From the city itself came the wailing and screaming of a thousand voices in agony and terror.

The Dwelven were taking their revenge.

With a curse, Cordain called his troops away from the fight and wrenched his horse around, heading back with all speed towards the city. But the sound of that fearful screaming had weakened the
warriors’ concentration on their control spell. Corisand called to their mounts again, and this time the steeds responded in an explosion of violence, rearing and bucking, doing everything in
their power to unseat their riders. Many of the Phaerie, taken by surprise, fell screaming, littering the ground with dead and dying, while some of the horses, riders stuck firmly in place, bolted
towards the trees, using the branches to dislodge their unwanted burdens by knocking them out of the saddle. Cordain, however, had no intention of being thrown. With brutal force he turned his mare
back towards the city, raking cruelly at her sides with his spurs until the blood ran, and wrenching at her head until the bit cut into her soft mouth.

By this time Corisand was striking the Phaerie attackers with a new weapon: javelin-like bolts of solidified air that could pierce a target as efficiently as a normal spear. The missiles could
barely be seen, and so it was impossible to block or evade them. The Windeye could sense the fear of the warriors as their comrades toppled, bleeding and screaming, from the saddle. Amid the chaos,
she began to hope. Could she possibly win this after all?

Corisand’s all-round vision was so encompassing that Iriana found it easy to concentrate on different areas of the fight, so it was she who spotted Hellorin’s Counsellor, whom she
recognised from images she had seen in Aelwen and Corisand’s minds, fleeing the field of battle. ‘Cordain,’ she cried urgently. ‘He’s getting away!’

Corisand’s attention snapped round in the direction of the Counsellor. Quick as thought, she hurled another of her spears which sped through the air, converging on the fleeing Cordain.
With unerring accuracy it hit him between the shoulder blades, and the Windeye saw him crumple and fall from the saddle.

With Cordain fallen the remaining warriors looked to Tiolani for further orders – but there was no sign of her, and Corisand and Iriana suddenly realised that they had lost her, and her
mount Asharal was missing too.

‘Where in bloody demon’s bile are they?’ Iriana said.

‘She must have sneaked back through the tunnel when she saw she was losing.’

Iriana laughed, a sound surprisingly harsh from someone who was usually so kind-hearted. ‘If she thought it was bad where
we
were, she’ll be in for the shock of her life
when she meets Kaldath and his Dwelven phantoms. I really wish I could be there to see it. That bitch sent her assassin after Esmon and Avithan – and me too, for that matter, and my beautiful
Seyka. She deserves whatever horrible fate she gets.’

Without Tiolani, the Phaerie gave up the fight to save the horses. Those still able to control their mounts guided them down to the ground and dismounted quickly, letting the horses run free.
Others, distracted by the tumult in the city, fell screaming from the saddle as their mounts dislodged them at last. Confusion reigned in the stable compound with animals stampeding around, aimless
and terrified. The ground was strewn with bodies. Those Phaerie who could still do so broke and ran, some heading for the mouth of the tunnel and others diving like hunted rabbits into the shelter
of the forest.

On Corisand’s back, Iriana let out a cry of triumph. ‘We did it! Quick, Corisand, the flying spell. It’s time to get your people out of here.’

The Windeye needed no telling. It took a lot of power to lift so many horses – the entire Xandim race – but Corisand had the magic of the Fialan to draw upon, and she could also feel
Iriana, on her back, sending her a steady feed of bolstering power. ‘Stop that, you idiot,’ she scolded. ‘We just pulled you back from the brink of death, and you’ve been
pouring all your energies into that bloody shield. I can manage the flying spell.’

‘But I want to be part of it,’ Iriana protested. ‘We’ve come so far together.’

‘And we’ve still got a long way to go. Save your strength, my friend. We may need it later. We’re not out of this yet.’ Corisand didn’t need to see the
Wizard’s face to know that she was pouting, but at least Iriana reluctantly withdrew her power, and let the Windeye continue alone.