The Way Into Darkness: Book Three of The Great Way (39 page)

Grateful am I to be permitted to travel The Way.
 

For no reason at all, he glanced to his left, looking eastward along the long alleyway, and he saw them: the children he had told to find cover.
 

They were preparing to attack the grunts. The old woman and the very youngest of the kids were nowhere in sight, but Siltzen was trying to make the barefoot heiress and a few of the other older children form a wedge.
 

When it screams for your blood and bares its teeth…
Tejohn had said. Had he really been stupid enough think that would scare off a boy Siltzen’s age, desperate to prove himself?

One look at the way they stood, each holding a spear as if it were a banner, and he knew they might make their move at any moment and that they would not survive it.

Without taking a moment to consider the consequences, Tejohn hurled the pick over the building and charged around the corner of the building, taking up a spear in each hand. This was a suicide attack, he was sure of it, but if he could touch one, maybe two of the grunts before the children started their doomed offensive, he might make The Blessing break and run. They would turn on him first, yes. He expected to be swarmed before the kinzchu stones could do their work, but better that than--

The pick struck the ground while he was still four steps away from the two closest grunts. Even among the restless, pacing creatures with the endless pounding of fist against stone, the bright ring of metal on stone made them stop and turn to the sound, suddenly alert.
 

Feeling the wind at his back, Tejohn flung himself forward, stabbing forward with both spears at once, catching the two nearest grunts full on the back before they could turn to him. Both collapsed instantly. Without slowing at all, he passed between them, his boot landing right beside their heads--
close enough to bite
--and he struck again, hitting two more grunts in a cluster just as they turned toward him.
 

Fire and Fury, the creatures were everywhere. Blue-furred grunts--not as large as the purple giant he’d faced in this same courtyard once before, but they turned toward him with one motion. Tejohn could see the long claws, the powerful shoulders, the vicious fangs that were as long as a grass lion’s, and worst of all, the wild look in their eyes, like starved dogs.
 

He leaped sideways onto the porch of the shop, and at a glance, he could see someone had once sold charcoal from here.
I’m going to die in a coal bin.
The grunts took deep breaths, all at once, and roared at him, drowning out the death cries of the ones he’d already struck. Drowning out the sound that he had hoped would drive them away and save them all.

Chapter 24

Three hundred grunts roaring in unison was a brutal, oppressive sound, like being caught suddenly in a river current. Tejohn knew they were speaking, too; they were shouting their name at him.

“Laoni!” he roared back. Then he took a deep breath and shouted her name again while he threw himself at the creatures at the top of the stairs. The grunts surged forward, colliding with each other in a wild-eyed frenzy.
 

Grateful am I--

The spear in Tejohn’s left hand was batted aside by the leading grunt, who immediately collapsed onto the rough planks. The spear twisted across his body as the one in his right hand jabbed forward into the knot of creatures. Another collapsed, but it wasn’t enough to break the surge, only to ease the tangle of enemies that wanted to tear him apart. One of the beasts smashed an open claw against the front of his kinzchu stone point, and the spear shivered.
 

The shaft came apart and the anti-magic stone clattered at his feet. A heavy figure rushed at him from the left and he dropped to the floor, clutching at the broken spear head. His longer weapon was lost to him already, but as the creatures rushed at him, his fingers closed on the business end of his broken spear and he began to lay about with it.
 

Heavy bodies fell onto his back, pinning him.
 

They didn’t break and run. Cazia, be warned that they--

A grunt dropped low beside him, its jaws gaping over his right wrist.
 

One of The Blessing’s death cries sounded from beside him, then another and another, like a small chorus. The grunt that had been about to bite him hesitated and looked around, trying to find the source of the danger.
 

Just then, a deafening eagle’s scream sounded. Tejohn could not lift his head to see what was happening, but the grunts nearest to him lifted their heads and shrank down low like nervous prey. Then a huge shadow passed overhead, and he caught a glimpse of two massive taloned feet dragging kinzchu spears through the mob of grunts.
 

Tejohn struck out with the broken spear point, touching the grunt that had been about to bite him. It collapsed onto his weapon arm, pinning him and making him helpless. The stink of burning fur wafted across his face, acrid and awful. The beasts had caught wind of it, too, and were slowly backing down off the porch, watching wildly in all directions.
 

It wasn’t good enough. The children would be making their attack at any moment--may have already started, in fact--and Tejohn had not yet driven the enemy from the field.
 

He yanked his right arm from beneath the fallen grunt, pulling the stinking, matted fur toward him. It smelled like old blood. The broken spear head came free, but the grunt lay against the side of Tejohn’s head now. He lifted the weapon and threw it in the general direction of the front of the porch. He couldn’t see anything, but the creatures were so packed together there, he thought he couldn’t miss.
 

He didn’t. A moment after he made his throw, he was rewarded with another death cry. Struggling to free himself of the weight pushing him down, he couldn’t see them break and run, but he heard it. The beasts cried out in terror and fled, their footsteps receding.
 

Tejohn felt a sudden sharp pain in his low leg and back. Were they biting him? Were they passing The Blessing onto him right now? A burst of adrenaline from his tired body gave him the strength to push himself free.
 

No, the beasts weren’t biting him. They were burning.
 

As he stood, he saw the grunts stampeding southward, toward the narrow stone stairs that led to the top of the wall. There were still a great many beasts in the yard, and those stairs were a natural choke point. Fury willing, he could still catch a few.
 

The unbroken spear he’d dropped lay behind him. With one kick, he rolled a burning grunt off of it and the porch. The spear’s shaft was not even charred. He hefted it and sprinted down the front steps, in hot pursuit of the fleeing monsters. One man chasing three hundred. He had lost his sanity, but still he ran.

There was a high-pitched sound like a cheer, but when he glanced to the left, he saw it was Siltzen and a few of the older children shouting “Charge!” But there was no enemy for them to attack with their ragged, shieldless wedge.

A shield.
 
There were soldiers among the victims in the center of the yard. “Shield!” he called, and one of the spears lifted a shield for him to grab as he ran through the crowd. He did. Hostages scattered to clear a path for him. He noted the look of blank surprise on their faces as he sprinted by, as though he was performing a play and they were the audience. “Stop those children!” he shouted as he slipped the shield onto his arm.
 

The grunts were already bounding onto the stairs. Their tremendous leaping power meant they did not have to crowd onto the bottom steps. Instead, they bounded as high as six or eight feet off the ground, slamming into other grunts already climbing to the top. It was a vicious, churning turmoil of falling bodies, outraged roars, and animal desperation.
 

And Tejohn was not fast enough. His old legs were slowing, his breath coming ragged. He was not accustomed to long sprints, not anymore. The grunts bounded upward onto the top of the wall, and no matter how many bowled one into another, there were always more who gained the top and went over the other side.
 

He pushed onward, his breath coming in wheezes. He was a dozen paces away with barely three dozen grunts remaining, when one of them looked back at him and roared.
 

Tejohn roared back and jabbed. The grunt who had seen him leaped away, but he caught a different beast on its broad back. It collapsed. He moved on to the next, then the next. Jab. Jab. Jab. He barely put any power into it, yanking his weapon back at the merest touch. He held his shield high, but there was no need. The enemy was too spooked to do anything but flee.
 

Then, suddenly, the last of them had gained the stairs and in two leaps reached the top of the wall. Tejohn sprinted up after them, leaving defeated grunts smoldering behind him.
 

The view from the top of the wall was astonishing. It was a clear, sunny day and he could see far into the flatlands, as they called it. Forest, waterfall, lake, and hill… Great Way, it was beautiful.
 

Below him were the last few grunts who had escaped over the wall. Fire take them, it was a tremendous distance to fall, but the beasts were slowly picking themselves up from the gray-spattered rocks and fleeing down the slope with the others.
 

Tejohn wanted to shout taunts at them, but he didn’t. They wouldn’t understand and there was too much still to do.
 

He turned back toward the courtyard. The hostages still sat obediently in a cluster, staring up at him. In the northeastern corner, Siltzen and his young friends struggled against a half dozen adults. Not one of them had been Fire-taken;
Great Way, thank you for small miracles.
 

Above, he saw the huge eagle circling. He raised his spear and shouted, “Thank you!” at it. He didn’t expect it to understand him, but he hoped it took his meaning. It turned and glided northward toward the Sweeps.
 

“Bring those spears out!” Tejohn shouted at Siltzen and the others. “Bring the spears out and touch each person in this yard.” His voice was loud and hoarse with exertion and unspent rage. “I have brought a cure. Touch the stones and be cured like them!”
 

He pointed down at the foot of the wall where people struggled out of piles of ash. The sight galvanized the hostages; they leaped to their feet and rushed at the children. Even the very youngest ventured out of hiding, but no one took the spears away from them. Citizen and soldier alike pressed through the crowd, brushed their fingers against the stones, then moved away.
 

A blocky fellow with a dented helmet under his arm approached Tejohn. “My tyr,” he said, “do you remember me?”

“You’re one of Lowtower’s men.”
 

He nodded. “Kabe Lowtower, his cousin. The Commander is inside the holdfast with his family. In a dungeon.”
 

“There’s no reason for anyone to be inside the holdfast any more,” Tejohn said. “Gather up a few of these weapons. They’re called kinzchu spears. They—”
 

“We saw how they work,” the man interrupted.
 

Fair enough. “There’s a wheelbarrow loaded with more at the northern end of Saltstone, set very close to one of the houses by the western road. Deploy some soldiers atop the Marsh Gate to relieve the civilians there, and set a watch to stop the grunts entering the pass through the paddies on the eastern cliffs. Distribute the rest as you see fit.” The man nodded and started to leave. “Kabe,” Tejohn said, stopping him. “There are still grunts inside the walls, moving through the town. They’re still tremendously strong and fast.”
 

“They’re also cowards, my tyr.”
 

“They’re beasts with a predator’s instincts, not soldiers, and we have not cured enough people to risk heavy losses. Don’t let courage bring us to defeat.”
 

Kabe tilted his big square head at that as though it was a new idea to him, and one he was deeply suspicious of. Then he bowed and began gathering soldiers and relieving the children of their weapons.
 

Several naked, ash-covered people shuffled toward the fountain near the center of the yard. They were huddled over and choking, clearly uncomfortable and ashamed. No one else in the yard moved to help them.
 

The fools. Tejohn stalked across the yard into a shop and took a stack of robes from the shelf. As he carried them toward the fountain, a woman raced toward him.
 

“Those are my mother’s robes!” she exclaimed. “That’s my mother’s shop! You can’t just take those!”
 

“
Shop
?” Tejohn answered in his battlefield voice. He wanted everyone to hear what he said next. “There are no more shops, only storerooms. I didn’t come here just to save
your shop
; I came to save every human being in Kal-Maddum!
And you are going to help me do it
! The Twofin people will be the army that frees humanity from The Blessing, but only if we treat every human as an ally, a fellow soldier, or a refugee. Starting here, in Saltstone, a tiny city at the edge of what was once a great empire, we are going to sweep across the land and restore its peoples.” He looked down at the young woman. “And we will not
charge
them for the privilege.”
 
To the crowd, he raised the shield with the Twofin symbol painted on it and shouted, “This is where the tide turns! This is where the beasts begin their retreat and humankind its counter. Right here, right now, with you people.” He took a deep breath and looked from face to face. “If the Twofins are worthy of the task.”