The Lodestone Trilogy (Limited Edition) (The Lodestone Series) (111 page)

Shann blipped her lodestone layer, feeling the push of lodestone from the foredeck and judging her trajectory. It would take a leap of considerable proportions to reach the club end of the creature’s tentacle. With the black cloak she doubted she would make it, but the red cloak had a special boost facility—an electrostatic charge, Rael called it.
Well, this is as good a time as any to test it.

She readied herself for a run and push off the foredeck. Something tugged at the end of her cloak. She spun round in annoyance to see Rael kneeling behind her. Alondo was hunkered down a short distance away. She noticed that he did not have his vortex arm; no doubt it was back at the sterncastle, on the opposite side to where the battle raged, so that he was cut off from the vibration device. Maybe it was just as well. She doubted whether it would have had any more effect on the creature than the drach’s lightning weapons, and at least it meant that he was out of harm’s way. She turned her attention back to Rael. “What do you think you’re doing?”

His voice carried a terrible urgency. “The spines. Watch out for the spines.”

Shann shook her head. She had no idea what the boy was blathering about, and there was no time to discuss it. She snatched the cloak from his grasp, snapped on the boost control, fully extended her upper lodestone layer, and vaulted into the air.

~

Shann gasped as the impetus of the initial lift threatened to wrench her shoulders out of their sockets. She sailed up and over the Reach’s main deck. Far below, the blue-coated drach lowered their lightning weapons and followed her progress with upturned faces. She angled her line of flight to the ship’s starboard side, where Lyall and Keris were still hacking at the nearest tentacle arm. The speed of her approach meant that she was likely to get in no more than a single blow.
Better make it a good one.

As she shot past the flattened club end, Shann swung the staff with every ounce of her strength. She felt the diamond blade connect. Immediately, she flared her cloak once more, pushing against the upper lodestone layer of the cloaked figure beneath her and slowing her descent. She heard an
“Oomph.”
She alighted on the deck to find Lyall on his knees and Keris helping him to his feet.

Shann sensed a movement at the corner of her vision and glanced up to see the gigantic tentacle whipping towards her. She stepped backwards instinctively. The tip stopped short of the deck and curved upwards, flattened end raised in front of her like the palm of an immense hand. Sickly orange fluid bled from a laceration where the wrist would be.
Time to finish the job.

As she tightened her grip on the staff, two semicircles of flesh in the midst of the palm suddenly parted, revealing a single huge eye— bright vermillion iris, yellow sclera with lines radiating from the centre. Another smaller appendage appeared, just below the eye. Before she could react, something whipped outwards, penetrating her arm and sending a jolt through her. A primeval presence touched the edge of her consciousness, cold and implacable as the depths of the sea.

A voice sounded from within; hers, and yet not hers. Like two individuals—two wills—superimposed on one another. She bent down, squeezed her eyes shut, and pressed the heels of her palms against her temples.

Enemies... invaders... must be destroyed... destroyed at all costs... But who... who is my enemy? The gargantuan creature of flesh and blubber, brooding beneath a floating wooden monster—a monster that cut off light from above and threatened its domain and its young?... Or are they my young?... The beast must be destroyed—the great wooden beast infested with tiny creatures that gave pain... They must be crushed—dragged down to the depths... The pain... Return the pain...

Shann’s face transformed into a grotesque mask as she whipped her staff around and drove it straight at the head of the tall, fair-haired creature in front of her.

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Chapter 4

The short, burly man who called himself Lorcar stood, hands on hips, head thrown back, laughing for all he was worth. At his feet, a tall, wiry girl lay on the flagstones of the Keep’s inner courtyard, her face a mask of frustration and injured pride.

His laughter ebbed away to a light chuckle. “Do you know what you are, girl? Do you? You’re a scrapper; that’s what you are. You go in, feet and fists flailing like some farmhand. ‘Keris, the Scrapper’— that’s what I’ll call you from now on.”

The girl pushed herself up and dusted herself down. It was her first day of training as Keltar, and she was already taking a profound dislike to the man who had been designated as her Principal Instructor. Finally, he sobered up, and his tone became reflective. “You must think about what you are doing... and then you must forget it.”

Lines creased her delicate forehead. “I don’t understand.”

“How to move, how to position yourself, how to conserve strength—to assess and exploit your opponent’s weaknesses—these and many other things you must learn with your conscious mind. But there will come a point where you must forget them. Your actions must flow, not from thought, but from instinct. You must learn to act within the moment. Only then will you truly be Keltar.”

Keris exploded into action, her staff intercepting Shann’s thrust and deflecting it so that the diamond blade passed inches from Lyall’s face. The girl’s weapon sliced through empty air and struck the deck planking with a thud. Keris’s muscles were taut, ready for the follow-up attack, but Shann simply stood still, staring at the point of her blade as if it belonged to someone else. A titanic battle waged back and forth across her features.

Lyall gaped at her. “Shann?”

Shann’s eyes glazed over and she gritted her teeth, raising her staff and shifting her hands to the balancing point of her weapon. Keris stepped between her and Lyall. She had no desire to harm the girl, but neither could she allow her to kill or injure others. She would try to disarm Shann if possible, incapacitate her if necessary. But if it came down to it...

The short-haired girl shifted her grip and made a sideways slash, forcing Keris to jump back and parry the blow. Even under the influence of ... whatever it was, the girl was fast. Keris used the split second Shann took to recover from her swing to go on the offensive. She swung her weapon, forcing the girl to raise the wooden haft of her staff defensively. The dark-haired woman followed up with a succession of blows driving the girl backwards and forcing her to counter continually.
Keep her occupied—off balance.
Behind her, she could hear Lyall’s anguished voice calling after her. She ignored him and pressed home her attacks, darkwood clashing against darkwood in a series of staccato blows. The drach parted in confusion as the two women moved through their midst, locked in combat.

Without warning, the girl feinted, then made a low pass. Keris felt the blade cut into the soft tissue of her leg. She went down on one knee. The drach stopped retreating and began moving towards them. Lyall, too, advanced on her position.

“Stay back,” she yelled. Keris could feel blood trickling down her calf as she rose precariously. The girl blinked rapidly and shook her head in apparent confusion. Keris hazarded a glance over her shoulder. They were now some distance from the huge eye, which had not moved from its position, suspended over the deck.

Suddenly, an idea occurred to her. It was risky, but with the injury Shann had just inflicted on her, she was running out of options. She began to back away, hobbling as rapidly as she could, back towards the eye.

The girl’s expression grew vacant once more and she started after Keris, swinging her bladed staff. Keris fought a steady rearguard as she retreated. Her leg protested loudly at every step, making her head swim. Lyall also backed up, following their progress, his face paralysed by indecision.

As she approached the ship’s port side once more, the flattened tentacle with its revealed eye hung before them like an examiner of souls. Within the transparent tube beneath it, another glistening barb had appeared, aimed directly at them.
It’s now or never.
Keris turned away from the girl, hefted her staff like a spear, and thrust it into the centre of the eye.

The diamond blade was swallowed up in the gelatinous mass. Fluid spurted forth, the colour of bile. The tentacle jerked back and shot into the air, almost yanking Keris’s staff from her grasp, before disappearing over the side of the ship with a splash. She turned to see that Shann had collapsed. Lyall was kneeling next to her, shouting her name, but there was no response.

Before she could move, the air crackled, and a bolt of lightning struck the deck immediately to her right. Across the deck, another tentacle arm had descended and a second lurid eye stared down at them. One of the drach was discharging his weapon indiscriminately as the others dived for cover. Keris started across the deck, wincing at the pressure on her injured leg. She made straight for the eye.

The rogue drach turned towards her, levelling his silver staff weapon. She recognised Roloff, the man she confronted earlier. His face was contorted, yet his eyes were as blank as Shann’s had been.

He fired directly at her. Keris ducked and rolled away, regaining her feet as rapidly as she could, her leg screaming in protest.

Roloff appeared to falter. He cast about, uncertainly.

She hesitated, then felt a new flash of pain. The creature had loosed another barb which had nicked her arm. Something lurked at the fringes of her mind—a cold persuasion, sapping at her resolve. She gritted her teeth, deliberately putting all her weight on the injury. Searing agony lanced through her, filling her mind with red mist— pushing back the invading presence.

Roloff stiffened and brought his weapon to bear once more. Suddenly, the deck bucked beneath them as massive tentacles seized either side of the tiny ship. Roloff stumbled sideways. A bolt of lightning erupted from his silver staff and sizzled past her ear. Keris lunged forward and made a low pass with her staff, chopping the man’s legs out from under him. The ship rocked back and forth, and then began heeling to starboard, the hull creaking in protest. The creature was trying to drag them under.

Keris stumbled down the sloping deck towards the eye. Another tentacle flashed past her and she heard a strangled cry. She turned to see that the monstrous limb had wrapped itself around Roloff’s torso and lifted him into the air. She was the only one near enough to render assistance, but she would have to backtrack, clamber her way up the slanted deck once more. Roloff struggled vainly in the grip of the creature.

She had told Shann that she would not sacrifice anyone else. At the time she meant it. Too many lives had been lost already—the soldiers at the compound near Gort, Ferenek, Zamir and the nomads of the Eastern Plains, Nikome, Mordal, Saccath... Yet now she realised it was a foolish promise. There were times when necessity laid choices upon people—choices they would rather not make. Leave a man in the grip of a terrifying beast, or go back in a futile attempt to rescue him, thereby jeopardizing the Reach and her entire complement? She had no option.

Feeling sick to her stomach, Keris turned back, slithered down the incline, took hold of her staff, and drove it into the pupil of the eye. The limb jerked back and up, thrashing in the air before vanishing over the side. The remaining tentacle arms rapidly followed suit; the one with Roloff in its grasp held his screaming body aloft like a trophy before finally dragging him down into the depths of the Erigone Sea.

~

Keris struggled to her feet and surveyed the aftermath of the battle. The scene was utter chaos. Blood stained the deck—orange from the creature, white from the Kelanni. She began to feel light-headed as she realised that a considerable amount of the white blood was hers. Behind her, Frang and the other remaining drach were attending to their fallen companion, who still lay there, unmoving. Near the port side, Lyall was still kneeling next to the unconscious Shann.

The creature could return at any moment.
Keris went down on one knee and ripped open her trouser leg, exposing the wounded flesh. She began tearing strips of cloth from her tunic, tying them in a tourniquet as tightly as she could manage without passing out. The flow of blood appeared to be stanched for the most part, although there was some seepage of white fluid through the makeshift black bandage.
“Boxx,”
she called out.

Patris emerged from the sterncastle. Rael descended the ladder to the main deck, followed by Alondo. They made straight for Shann and Lyall.

“Boxx,”
she cried out again. The Chandara came trotting up to her. It stood on its hind limbs and regarded her as if nothing had happened. “There are injured people. They need your help.”