Simon Hawke - The Seeker

At the same time, Ryana moved in to meet her attackers. The two who reached her first were overconfident at being confronted by a female, but they soon discovered that the villichi priestess was no ordinary woman. Ryana’s blade flashed with dazzling speed as they both raised their clubs, and before they could even bring them down, both half-giants fell, their fatal wounds spouting blood. But more were coming.

As the other half-giants reached Sorak, he suddenly felt himself spinning away, as if he were falling. Consciousness receded, and the Shade came rushing forth like a cold wind from the depths. The half-giants were stunned at the juggernaut that suddenly plowed into them, swinging his sword as if it had a life of its own. The gaze of this new antagonist was as frightening as his blade, for those who met those eyes felt a chill that froze them to the marrow.

Three more half-giants fell in as many seconds, and Galdra dripped with their blood as the blade flashed in search of fresh victims. With one hand the Shade swung Galdra, slicing through a half-giant’s waist, while with the other he caught a war club that was coming down, aimed at his head. The half-giant stared, wide-eyed with disbelief that someone so much smaller could so easily catch his blow. He had time for no more reactions: the Shade kicked out with his foot and smashed the half-giant’s kneecap even as he parried another blow from yet another half-giant.

Another war club was cut in two, as if it were no more than a twig, and a second later, two more half-giants lay dead in the street.

Meanwhile, Ryana looked to her speed and skill to avoid the blows aimed at her. Moving like a deadly dancer, she twisted and turned, sidestepping attacks and darting between the half-giants that attempted to surround her. She darted among them like a fly buzzing among beasts, stinging painfully with every pass. One half-giant collapsed to the ground, howling in pain as his knee tendons were severed; another saw her poised before him and raised his club only to find that she was not there and that suddenly blood was pouring from the gaping wound in his chest. So quickly had she struck that he never even saw the blade go in. He fell, knocking over one of his comrades, and Ryana dispatched him, also, as he tripped.

The close quarters of the combat now worked against the half-giants as they knocked into one another, trying to get at their opponents, who moved among them with terrifying speed. One half-giant struck out blindly with his war club, hoping to connect, but instead smashed in the ribs of one of his fellow guards. The other, maddened with pain and enraged, caved in his compatriot’s skull with his own war club. And then he, too, fell as Ryana plunged her sword into his side.

The templar watched from the far end of the street, amazed as one half-giant after another fell before the furious onslaught. It was impossible, she thought. Who were these people? Only a handful of the guards remained now, and as they pressed in their attack, they met with no more success than those who had gone before them. Over the din of the combat and the enraged bellowing of the guards, another sound rose above the fray, a sound that made shivers run down the watching templar’s spine.

It was the sound of the Shade howling for blood. It was an animal cry, frightening and inhuman. Two more half-giants fell, and then another, and another, and the Shade had no more opponents confronting him. He turned, then, and ran to help Ryana with the ones remaining. Between the two of them, three more half-giants fell in the blink of an eye. Only four remained. Human guards would have given up and run, but the half-giants were too stupid for that. Motivated only by rage, they smashed their clubs upon the ground with each missed blow, and were too slow to recover. Big as they were, they were no match for their much faster opponents. Moments later, all the half-giants lay bleeding in the street, now littered with the bodies of two full squads.

So astonished was the templar at what she had witnessed that she had simply watched, frozen to the spot. But when the elfling turned toward her and fixed her with his gaze, she was suddenly galvanized into action. At least forty yards separated them, and as fierce a fighter as the elfling was, the templar knew he could not reach her before she summoned up a spell. As she lifted her arms in preparation, she saw the elfling raise his sword. He wasn’t even moving toward her. For a moment, she paused and smiled at what she thought was a last, defiant gesture, and then her jaw dropped with amazement as he hurled me blade.

She laughed at the pathetic attempt, knowing that it could not possibly reach her. But the laughter froze in her throat as she saw the deadly blade come flashing at her, spinning end over end, apparently defying gravity as it swooped toward her with a whoosh each time it spun around. It covered twenty yards, then twenty-five, then thirty....

“No,” she whispered, staring with horror at the rapidly approaching doom. She turned to run, but Galdra cleaved her right in two before she had taken three steps. Had she still been alive to witness it, she would have been even more amazed to see the sword describe a graceful arc in midair and return to the outstretched hand of its owner.

Sorak found himself standing in the middle of the street surrounded by the corpses of half-giants. The Shade receded, and Sorak quickly looked around to see Ryana right behind him, breathing heavily as she held her dripping sword. She looked at him and smiled weakly, fighting for breath, and then her smile faded as Sorak saw her staring beyond him.

Two more squads of half-giants had appeared at the far end of the street. Sorak and Ryana spun around and saw yet another squad coming up behind them.

“Sorak ...” said Ryana, staring at him with resignation in her eyes.

“It seems we are not yet finished,” he said, feeling the effects of the Shade’s exertions. Ryana simply shook her head. “I fear we are,” she said.

“What would Tamura say if she heard you talking like that?” Sorak asked, hoping to brace her up by invoking the name of their old teacher, who had so often pushed them past all limits of endurance.

“I only wish that she were here right now,” Ryana replied. “I have no more strength.”

“Stay close to me,” said Sorak, wondering if there was time to summon Kether. But the half-giants were already charging at them from both sides.

“I always have,” she said, as she raised her sword and turned to face her fate.

They stood, shoulder to shoulder, prepared to go down fighting. But as the half-giants converged on them, the darkness of the street was suddenly illuminated with brilliant light as several fireballs exploded around them. One burst right in the midst of an approaching troop of half-giants, sending them scampering for cover or falling to the ground, on fire, bellowing as they rolled in the dirt to put out the flames. The troop coming from the opposite direction was likewise bombarded as fireballs arced through the air and struck them, bursting in explosions of flame as they landed.

“What’s happening?” Ryana asked, staring all around at the fireballs that came down on their pursuers.

“The Alliance!” Sorak shouted.

The white-robed figures of the preserver wizards were visible on several of the surrounding rooftops as they hurled fire spells down at the city guard.

“Sorak! Ryana! This way!” Korahna shouted. She stood in the entrance to a building on their right, beckoning to them. “Quickly! Run!”

They ran to the building and ducked inside. Korahna led them down a corridor and out through the back door, then down an alley into an adjoining street.

“Your timing could not have been better,” Sorak said.