Martin Hengst - The Darkest Hour

“Leave three of the warriors with me,” Zarfensis commanded. “Take the others and find our brothers. Free them from the vermin and kill any that dare oppose you. Find me when you’ve released them. We will be hunting the Swordmage.”

“As you command, Your Holiness.”

* * *

Tiadaria felt as if she had just laid her head on the pillow when a deep bass roar shook her bed. She rolled out from under the blanket, sleep blurred and fuzzy, trying to figure out where the noise was coming from. A series of loud crashes echoed down the hall. There had been a few people in the common area when she had staggered through on the way to her room, but no one who seemed like they’d be enough of a problem to cause this kind of commotion. The Elvish Harlot attracted a colorful clientele, but no one who ever really got out of hand.

Whatever was going on, she couldn’t be of any use half-naked. She quickly pulled on the tunic and pants she had slithered out of far too recently. Jamming her feet into her boots, she went to the door and pulled it open.

Splinters of wood were scattered over the hallway floor. Now that the door was open and she was a little more awake, Tia realized that the sounds she heard weren’t the shouting of a bar fight gotten out of hand, they were screams of terror. She sprinted to the end of the hall and skidded to a stop, her feet going out from under her. Tia landed hard on her rump and cracked her teeth together.

The common room was in shambles. There had been a large window that looked out on the high street. It was gone. All that remained was a gaping hole of jagged wood. A towering beast with glowing blue eyes and gray fur was swiping with razor-sharp claws at the patrons who were trying to defend themselves with belt knives and overturned chairs.

The fighters were ranged in a loose circle and Tiadaria peered between their legs to see Harold, his face bloody, laying motionless on the floor in the midst of their group. Her feet worked against the floor, her boots refusing to find purchase in the debris of the destruction that surrounded her. Xarundi! Xarundi! Xarundi! The word pulsed in her mind with every frantic beat of her heart. Instinct took over and she groped for her scimitars, remembering too late that her sword belt was still wrapped in its traveling felt and shoved under her bed.

Tia finally got to her feet, pulling herself up on the bar. The sudden motion caught the attention of the Xarundi, who turned on her. A long string of blood-stained spittle dripped from the corner of its maw. The beast threw back its head and howled so loudly that Tia clasped her hands over her ears. She saw the muscles in the powerful thighs bunch and she dove down the hallway. The creature sprang.

The Xarundi crashed into the bar, shattering it and adding more broken wood to the ruined common room. Somehow, Tiadaria managed to keep her footing and pelted headlong toward her room. The door still stood open. If she didn’t reach her room before the beast grabbed her, she was done for. A split-second glance over her shoulder showed her that the Xarundi was too close. It was running on all fours, which was her only advantage. With its body mass on its front arms, it couldn’t grab for her without going into the floor face first.

Ducking left into her open room, she dove under the bed, frantically searching for the felt bundle that she normally kept behind her saddle. Her fingers tore at the jute that tied the parcel closed. She had nearly gotten the felt unrolled, when she felt the powerful hand grasp her ankle. The grabbed the hilt of one of the scimitars and held on with every ounce of strength she could muster.

The gray-furred Xarundi hauled her out from under the bed. Tia forced away a moment of blind panic and shifted into sphere-sight. Freed from the physical constraints of her body, she turned and faced the black roiling mass that was the Xarundi’s essence within the sphere. Instinct took over and she quickly selected her point of attack.

Snapping back into the physical realm, she twisted at the waist, striking out with a backhanded slice that only barely connected with the Xarundi’s face. The well-honed blade sliced through skin and cartilage with ease. Blood sprayed from the wound where the monster’s nose had been a moment before.

Howling in pain, the Xarundi loosened its grip on her ankle. She rolled up onto the balls of her feet and, calling on the power of the sphere, flipped backward over the bed. Tia rolled her wrist, bringing the scimitar into an offensive position. With her free hand, she grabbed the side of the bed and flipped it up and over, sending it hurtling at her attacker. The bed slammed into the bloodied Xarundi, pushing it back into the hallway. The moment of reprieve gave her the chance to grab her other scimitar.

Now fully armed, a savage smile crept across Tiadaria’s face. She sprang over the bed like a striking snake, sailing into the hallway. Her blades flashed downward as she passed through the highest point in the arc. Wounded or not, the Xarundi was fast. It brought its claws up and intersected her blades, pushing them aside and knocking her askew.

Tia landed hard on her side and struggled to keep the breath in her lungs. The Xarundi was on her again in an instant. It made to fall on top of her, pinning her under its weight. As it fell, she drew back both legs and kicked out, feeling the power flow through her. Her feet connected with the beast’s chest and she heard the dull cracking of its ribs.

Playing off the momentum of that charged kick, she rolled backward in a somersault, her blades angled outward to avoid doing any unpleasant damage to her own body. Coming up on her feet, she flung one blade forward and drew the other back, falling into a favorite position of the Captain’s. The one he had called the viper.

Savage, but not particularly stupid, the Xarundi bounded past her with a snarl. Tia turned to pursue, but the beast had leapt out through the ragged hole in the wall of the common room, calling loudly for what she could only imagine would be more wolfish reinforcements. The inn momentarily secured, she went to the crowd clustered against the wall.

Tia was relieved to see that Harold, though bloodied, was sitting up against the wall. His eyes were open, but he was very pale. She brandished one blade toward the hole in the wall and he nodded, giving her a feeble smile. Tia exited the inn the same way her enemy had.

What little she could see on the street was pandemonium. Most of the lights had been torn down, and casting her eyes quickly skyward, she saw that the moon and stars had been blotted out by a shifting, inky blackness. She shifted into sphere-sight long enough to confirm that the phenomenon was magical in nature and then dismissed it. It didn’t seem dangerous in any way other than as a tactical liability.

A scream from the end of the street grabbed her and she turned to see another Xarundi cut down a pretty young woman. The scream abruptly ended as her top half was nearly severed from her bottom. The beast turned on Tia, its blue eyes glowing with unholy fire. It made to run her down, but Tiadaria was already running toward it. Her arm flashed out and the enchanted steel of her blade slid easily into the Xarundi’s body, hilt deep. She twisted the blade and pulled it free, watching the fire in its eyes to go dark. Assured that it was dead, she stepped into the street and glanced one way, then the other.

It was impossible to tell how many Xarundi were loose in Ethergate. The city guard had mustered and were combing the streets, three abreast. At least their armor would give them a better chance against the beasts than unarmed commoners. For a city full of mages, Tiadaria had yet to see one amidst the fighting. Granted, she had only just come to the party, but she would have thought that the quints would be more alert to the defense of their city.