Sam Bowring - Soul's Reckoning

He dared wait only a few heartbeats, then eased off the wall. Treading as lightly as he could, he moved back to the entrance. Then, as he imagined claws reaching out of the dark behind him, his terror spurred him on and he raced through, back into the moonlight. In contrast to the mine, it seemed as bright as day.

As he ran down the hill, he had a view of the fort almost in its entirety. Half the town was turned to rubble, and fires from spells and spilled lanterns burned everywhere. Away to the south, the wall was pummelled and broken through in many places, and the majority of the shadow’s forces collected there, cleaning up stray pockets of resistance. A few of his soldiers still headed for the escape tunnel, but it seemed as if most had either managed to leave already or returned to Arkus’s Well.

It was time to go.

Remarkably, he found his second-in-command standing by the gate.

‘Kalda!’

‘Sir,’ she replied, and smiled.

‘Everyone is gone – at least, everyone who can be. Come, we must follow them!’

‘Yes, sir.’

A dead Graka plunged out of the sky and hit her with bone-crunching force, slamming her to the ground.

‘Kalda!’ said Galfin, going to his knees. Her jaw dropped open and blood spilled out. He resisted the urge to shake her, knowing it wouldn’t help. Blearily, she managed to open one eye, and gurgled.

Galfin leaned close. ‘What is it?’ he said.

She mumbled something incoherent, and her crushed side twitched as if she were trying to move it. Then her other hand came up before her eyes, and weakly she rubbed her fingers together.

‘Bah,’ she whispered. ‘Never could click with my left.’ She focused on him for a moment. ‘What are you still doing here? Get gone, sir.’

With tears in his eyes Galfin drew his sword and ran it through Kalda’s chest. Then he fled into the tunnel.

As Taritha galloped onwards, Bel heard faraway shouts and screaming, heavy impacts, and the sizzle of magic. He cursed, not for the first time. The elevation of the Mines above such open plains meant that sound travelled a long way to meet them, and it agitated him to hear fighting going on yet know he was still some distance from joining it. As the hulking shape of the Mines became visible on the horizon, he took heart from the flashing lights streaming from the walls …but then, quite suddenly, they stopped.

‘Not a good sign,’ he muttered.

Over the whistling wind, Querrus did not hear him.

‘Perhaps a good sign?’ the mage called hopefully. ‘Perhaps the shadow has been beaten back!’

Bel slapped the reins down hard, though it made little difference. Taritha had been moving at a heroic pace for hours, and Bel knew they had already pushed her to the limit. Two riders were not ideal for any horse. As they drew closer he began to make out the line of the walls, could see they were broken in places. A few minutes more and he saw shadowy figures moving up the hillside, unhindered by defenders, entering the fort.

Too late?

‘How could anyone make such short work of the Shining Mines?’ wondered Querrus aloud. ‘Even the Shadowdreamer, with all his power …’

He trailed off as the shadowmander emerged from inside the fort to stand on the parapets. It paused in front of the moon, perfectly silhouetted for a single moment, before dropping away again into the dark.

‘Losara’s foul new pet,’ said Bel grimly. ‘That’s how.’

There were still shouts coming from the north side of the fort, although they seemed to be growing more distant.

‘Let’s circle around,’ said Bel. ‘Widely.’

He steered Taritha, noticing that she was finally slowing. A slick of sweat coated her, and he knew he must give her, and probably Querrus, a rest very soon. As they came within sight of the northward side, they saw figures appearing out of a tunnel just behind the fort. Further on was a whole host more – hard to tell in the dark, but they did not seem overly organised.

‘A retreat?’ asked Querrus.

‘Looks like it. Let’s intercept someone. One more burst, is that all right?’

‘One more,’ said Querrus, his voice strained. ‘Then we might have done our dash for the day.’

Again they picked up speed, angling for a bobbing torch. As they caught up, Bel saw soldiers on horses, one holding the torch aloft.

‘Ho, Kainordans!’ he called.

The horses slowed, and Taritha drew up beside them.

‘The blue-haired man,’ he heard someone whisper.

‘Shame he did not arrive sooner,’ muttered another.

One of them, a man of middle years with square shoulders and close-cropped blond hair, cantered forward.

‘Blade Bel, I presume?’ he said. There was a haunted look about him, and Bel wondered what horror he’d endured this night.

‘That’s right.’

‘I’m Gerent Galfin. I must apologise for the state in which you find us.’

The formal words seemed at odds with his appearance and their situation.

‘I saw the shadowmander in the fort,’ replied Bel. ‘I daresay there was little you could do.’

‘That’s what it is?’ said Galfin. ‘But they don’t grow so big – and even if they did, there is something terrible about that one. It turned back all arrows, all blades, all spells, as if they were but …but …’

‘Aye,’ said Bel darkly. ‘The dreamer has conjured or created it impervious, I do not know how. The Throne is working on discovering more. In the meantime, I am not surprised it has forced you out. If I could have been here …’

‘You have some way of defeating it?’

‘Not exactly. Waylaying it, maybe. At any rate, the Mines have fallen.’

‘Yes, I am sorry to report.’ The man looked miserable.

‘Take heart, Gerent,’ said Bel. ‘I am sure you did what you could. There’s no shame in retreating from an untouchable foe to fight another day – and you will be needed.’

Galfin stared at him a moment, then nodded slowly.

‘You ride to join Brahl?’ said Bel.

‘Yes.’

‘He is not far, a day or so. Currently he marches here, but I imagine word will soon reach him that there is little point.’

‘You do not mean to take back the Mines?’

Bel shook his head. ‘The shadow will move again soon enough, unless I’m very much mistaken. If I am, then they are welcome to sit and cook in the Mines for as long as they like, and we can wait them out.’

‘Will you accompany us to Brahl?’ said Galfin.

‘No. Brahl will join me. Now, it is not safe here, and you must be on your way. I only ask that you leave me one scout, so I may send word to Brahl when I need to.’

‘As you wish. But what will you do?’

‘I will watch and wait, to see where Losara intends to strike next.’

Galfin turned to one of his soldiers, a brown-haired young woman wearing the badge of a penulm. ‘Sarshan, you will accompany Blade Bel.’

The woman saluted.

Bel realised that Querrus had been silent during all of this – and a moment later he felt the man’s head rest on his back, accompanied by a soft snore. The mage had given everything he had to this journey.

‘Come,’ Bel told Sarshan, ‘we will find a safe vantage from which to watch the fort. As for you, Gerent Galfin, I bid you safe journey.’

‘Thank you,’ said Galfin. ‘And, uh …I just wanted to say …I fought many years ago at this place with your father. It was an honour.’

Bel was jolted by the change of subject. He tried to avoid thinking overmuch about Corlas, for he still hadn’t had any news of him. Why hadn’t he resurfaced since his pardon? Surely he knew his son would worry about him, but just as surely he must realise Bel had enough to worry about as it was! Why would his father put him through this uncertainty, unless something terrible had happened to him? And yet there was nothing Bel could do to investigate further, not on top of everything else that was happening.