Talon (The Astor Chronicles Book 1) (16 page)

Folai and Kang waited in the forest ahead of us, scheming with Kestric about the right time to leap out and distract the guards. Sarlice’s plan was for the four of them to hold the Zeikas long enough for me to free the Jarians from the cave. The mouth of the cave was barred with glowing red bars of light and, as the only Anzaii in the vicinity, it was my job to banish the demons behind the magic. There was simply no other way.

‘Sy-tré is with us,’
Tiaro reassured me. I heard a reassuring howl in the waves, reverberating much more loudly than any Rada-kin’s voice.

The Zeika guards wandered a few more feet away from the cave, leering at a group of female slaves who were washing themselves nearby. The water they were using looked tepid, but they had leaves, lemons and a few bars of soap to share.

‘Go now, while they’re distracted,’ Sarlice hissed to me. ‘And by the trees, don’t get yourself killed.’

Kestric bolted from cover and blurred into leopard form, Kang and Folai close behind him. The Zeikas shouted for help and drew their weapons. Sarlice moved immediately into wolf form. I followed her around the backs of the tents near the cave, whiskers twitching. It was getting easier to shapeshift now—my lupine nose came alive with hundreds of unique smells. The echoing lilt of Zeikas alerting other guards shot painfully through me as my mind adjusted to the differences in my hearing. Sarlice and I crept from one tent to another, pressing close and crouching low.

The Zeikas called to others around the camp, alerting them to a possible escape attempt. I felt my tail turn down in sudden fear. Before panic could grip me, Sarlice snapped her fangs over the tent rope. One corner of it fell in. She leapt onto it, tearing at the thick fabric. Three of the five Zeikas let out a cry and hurried around the tent to fight us off.

I jumped onto the first one’s chest, biting at his face. An axe whistled through the air and bounced off a wooden crate nearby.

‘Go into that cave,’
Tiaro hissed.

‘We won’t be able to get out again,’
I argued.

Sarlice darted behind and around the Zeikas, drawing their attention away from me.

‘We will,’
Tiaro assured me.
‘Have faith.’

With a yelp, I ran between the two remaining Zeika guards and leapt through the mouth of the cave, an icy feeling passing through me as I crossed the threshold. Sarlice’s growling grew faint and there was the smell of too many bodies crammed into a small space. Master Namal stood at the front of the group, arms outstretched as if to shield them. I relaxed into my human self and stood up from a crouching position.

‘What now, Tiaro?’
I said with one hand on my ear.
‘Sarlice and the Rada-kin won’t last long out there!’

‘We’ve cleared the entrance already,’
she replied.

I stared back at the mouth of the cave in astonishment. The red lines were gone.
How?

‘Glorious Krii! We are glad to see you, Talon,’ Namal said. ‘We’ve all been praying that your Anzaii abilities would manifest faster than usual. Without Feera, we knew you were our only hope of escape.’

‘So you told the others?’ I said.

‘With Zeikas upon us, we seem to have less to worry about from Wavekeepers,’ he replied sheepishly. ‘And now that we’ve seen what you can do, it is obvious to all that you are Anzaii.’

‘Do you think you can free us from these wards?’ Ivon asked, coming up beside Namal. ‘All the Rada here have been wave-blocked.’

There were about sixty Rada Jarians handcuffed with bracers of Zeika magic, and two dozen non-Rada. As long as the Rada were warded their kin would not be able to sense them, and they were unable to transform.

‘I can sense the wards,’ I replied. ‘It’s like nothing else. First spirit circles, now wards. There was one on Rekala when I saw her last, but I couldn’t sense it then.’

To Tiaro only, I added,
‘I’m not sure how to begin.’

‘Ward magic is subtly different from spirit circles,’
Tiaro counselled me.
‘With this many wards, sometimes there is only one demon, sometimes many. You must be touching one of the wards in order to find out. The other Jarians must also be touching so that the power can flow through them when you send the demon or demons away.’

‘Why the limitations if it truly is Sy-tré working through me?’

‘Can you imagine what would happen if he flooded you with his full power?’
Tiaro responded.
‘You would not be able to withstand it. The slow progression of learning is to protect you. The Lightmaker empowers us to do certain things for ourselves, and demands that we be actively involved in them, but he holds back until we’re ready to take each step in our growth.’

‘Give me your hands, Namal, oh… you’re not warded. Your Rada-kin… Josker… she’s not….’

I knew from the look in his eye that the magnificent grey wolf I had last seen outside Namal’s house in Jaria was slain. My heart ached for Namal’s loss, not only the loss of his dearest, truest friend, but also his ability to morph.

‘Tend to the others,’ Namal croaked. He would battle on like a true leader, despite his grief. ‘We have to get away from here. We’ll take refuge in the Catacombs of Krii, if necessary, as the Zeikas cannot follow us there.’

It was difficult to think about reaching out to Sy-tré with the weight of Namal’s and others’ losses heavy on my heart. But the Rada-kin and Sarlice were struggling to hold back the tide of Zeikas who were starting to emerge from the main tent. I had to move quickly or more lives would be lost.

I grabbed Ivon’s shoulder and turned him so I could reach his bound hands behind his back. His ermine, Jaseca, was hiding down the front of his shirt.

‘Everyone take hold of the person beside you.’

Staring at me wide-eyed, the Jarians did as they were told. I closed my eyes and sought frantically in the waves for the demon or demons governing the wards. I could hear Namal and a few others standing in agreement with me to face our spiritual foe.

I recited the prayer of the wolf once more. A writhing mass of nothingness swarmed out of the disappearing wards. The demon bellowed its anger at me and rolled closer. I lost my breath and a wave of nausea threatened to knock me off my feet. Tiaro’s voice resounded firmly in my mind.

‘Sy-tré is with us. Krii and the Lightmaker will aid him.’

The demon spread its vacuous claws and billowed toward me. A wave of terror washed through me and I stumbled back, nearly letting go of Ivon’s hands. The demon surrounded me with its blackness, reaching into my mind and probing down into my soul. Like a closing door, the light of awareness began to dissolve, and anger and hatred welled up inside me.

Another place, another time. Red all around me, like the belly of a tremendous monster, veins like tentacles in the walls. A gurgling sound like water being sucked down a plug or drain… echoing. My feet… invisible beneath a sludge of muck and clouds of hot steam. Sweating, crying, my voice scratching against my throat, burning? The underworld? Death…?

‘I am not dead,’ I cried, searching for calm, but instead there was agony and fury. If Krii was there, I could not sense him.

Yet,
‘He is here….’
Tiaro said.

I could see the black of my own eyelids and thousands of red dots.
Krii is real and he lives—that much I know
. Peace flowed around me and all became quiet. I opened my eyes and found myself kneeling on the ground before the Jarians, arms outstretched. A number of them were still murmuring their praises to the Lightmaker. Others moved out of the cave to hold back the enemy. The wrist wards had fallen away, leaving them free to morph and communicate with any kin who were not warded.

‘Thank Krii,’ I breathed.

Ivon and I were the last to leave the cave. Dozens of Zeikas emerged from the tent and flooded towards the cave looking slightly dazed.
Why choose this time to get drunk?
They knew we were coming.

‘This is not the stupor of drink, Talon, but of opening one’s soul to Zei.’

Dazed or otherwise, it wouldn’t be long before the Zeikas outnumbered us. A garrison this big was sure to have a number of high-ranking warriors, sorcerers who could scry and conjure. By no mortal means could we fight and win against such evils. The only sensible option for the Jarians was to flee.

‘This way, Talon!’ Namal said, beckoning me.

‘Not without Rekala,’ I called out. ‘You go on.’

Outside the cave, most of the Jarians were running for the forest, luring the Zeikas to the place where animals had the advantage. I crouched behind the tent where I’d last seen Sarlice. Red material rippled where she had left jagged shreds. I slipped in through the back door of the next tent. Two screams heralded my entrance as I stumbled upon a Zeika with a pair of pleasure slaves. I burst out the front of the tent, running to the next one, which was empty.

A green light lit up the sky outside—Jonaal stood at the entrance to the green pavilion sending fireballs in streams around him. He spread his arms into the air and tilted his whole body back until I thought he would snap. Conjuring a line of fire between his hands, he turned to face a charging wolf. A ripple of green spun along the line and careered into the wolf, causing an explosion that boomed so loudly it echoed off the distant mountains. The helpless Rada-kin keeled over and lay smoking in the middle of the field.

‘If we can’t have you as slaves,’ the sorcerer shouted, ‘we will have your ashes!’

I ran on past a cluster of wooden buildings, noticing that the cookfire out the front of each one was cold. Apparently the Zeikas had feasted together this night. Deeper in the Zeika camp there were less people as most of them were concentrated around the main pavilion. I crept gingerly through the camp, hiding behind barrels and tents, hearing explosions and shouting behind me. It seemed cowardly not to be there in the thick of it, but Rekala needed me also. I had to focus on that.

A darkened tack shed soon came into view—perhaps the stables would be nearby. I hurried over to the shed and pressed my spine against the wooden wall. Footsteps crunched in the gravel after I had stopped moving, and I heard someone mutter and curse.

After a while the footsteps moved on. I peeked around the corner of the tack shed and glimpsed a heavily armoured Zeika with a ball of flame balanced on his head. The flames illuminated the causeway, throwing strange shadows as he passed the hanging cauldrons and dried meat at each cookfire.

Senses straining, I moved past the tack shed and located the stable, which consisted of a large, wooden building with an apex roof open to the night sky at front and back. I crept around the back and reached up the wall. The top of the wooden slats was a little rough, but it was flat enough to climb over. Moving as silently as a mouse I jumped up against the wall and hauled myself up. Shaking with the effort I lowered myself down on the other side, being careful not to make a thud. There was no telling how many Zeikas would be in here on guard, especially if they knew I was coming.

‘If they were expecting me, why haven’t I been caught already?’
I pondered.

Tiaro replied,
‘Perhaps they thought they had you at the cave. They underestimate you because you are so new.’

Putting my questions aside, I peered around the stable. Green flames burned in sconces at intervals around the walls, bright enough to reveal my position, but the two Zeikas standing at the far end of the stables weren’t looking in my direction. One of them turned his head and the firelight revealed a hideous facial scar. Warder Arak. I ducked behind a pile of hay.

High Commander Jonaal had given him that injury to punish him for capturing me prematurely, and now he was on stable duty. I grinned at his misfortune, but my pressing desire to find Rekala made the smile fade away. Peeking carefully from behind the hay I spotted her in white-grey horse form in a stall in the middle of the room.

Behind the piles of hay, crates and equipment, I moved slowly toward her, peering through the darkness for any threat. There were at least four feet of open space on every side of the stall.

I chanced a quick scurry across the gap. Fear shot through me and I ducked just in time to miss a burst of fire.

Arak and the other stable guard called dark energies to their aid, seeming reckless in their haste to strike me down.
Am I that important to them?

A stray shot set fire to the piles of straw on the ground, and it started burning with a soft whoof. As the green flames crawled closer to the main haystack, pungent, dusty smoke thickened the air. The Zeikas continued firing blasts of magic at me, missing by inches as I ducked and darted away from them.
Not when I’m this close!

A pounding fury heated my chest as I dropped to all fours. An image somewhere between Rekala and Kestric filled my mind. In response, my shoulders and lips bulged, striped fur thickened across my skin—black and blacker. Night tiger! The name we gave to melanistic firetigers and icetigers.

The muscles across my face and neck responded faster than thought and a terrible noise came out. Despite not being full-grown, my teeth were as long as daggers.

Arak lost concentration and staggered back while the other Zeika continued to hurl green fireballs in my direction. Planks of wood fell around us, showering the room with smoke and sparks.

I cornered my prey, glaring at him with fly-green eyes. I arched my back and lashed out with dark red talons. He uttered a prayer to Zei and stretched out his palm as I leapt, a sphere of lime coloured fire swelling between us. I closed my eyes, roaring out to Krii in desperation. Heat touched my teeth, licked across my tongue and died in my throat. The Zeika’s head struck the floor as I landed.

Arak panicked and made a run for the door, but a falling beam swept him off his feet and knocked him out of the stable.

The fire had burned quickly through the debris on the floor and now cartwheeled up the walls. Resuming my human form, I ran to Rekala’s stall. She was fidgeting restlessly despite the thick hobbles weighing her down. Now that I was close to her, our physical touch reduced the effects of the wave-ward.