David Farland - Worldbinder

Siyaddah raced to the Knight Eternal, grabbed it from behind, and pulled off the valuable wings. She could not leave such a prize for the enemy.

Alun stood above his dead dog, mourning.

“These are yours,” Siyaddah said, shoving the wings toward him. But Alun only stood. He peered up at her for a moment, and shook his head.

“I don’t want them.”

“Then bring them,” Warlord Madoc said. “I’ll wear them proudly. Come on. We’ve got a war to finish.” He whirled and raced through the tunnels, outdistancing his companions as he searched for a target for his wrath.

In Emperor Zul-torac’s observatory, Areth Sul Urstone lay in a fetal position, groaning in pain, watching the destruction of his city.

Suddenly the snarl and boom of thunder drums went silent. All of creation seemed to pause on the brink of ruin as the Death Lord raised a spidery hand, then turned his cowled head toward Rugassa, as if seeking permission to put an end to mankind.

“Will you concede?” the Emperor hissed. “Your soul, the life of your spirit, in exchange for the city?”

Areth knew that the Death Lord only awaited the Emperor’s command. Such wights, being less than half alive, could communicate across the leagues, whisper thoughts to the spirits of one another. It was for this reason that Lady Despair had elevated them in position, giving them charge of her armies.

They are waiting only for me, for my word, Areth knew. It is in my power to save my people, or to let them die. He let out a whimper of pain and despair.

Rhianna landed upon a parapet above the city, where High King Urstone knelt above the body of the wounded Fallion, examining the splotch of blood smeared over Fallion’s ribs. The thumb-lanterns here had blown out, apparently when the great stone doors that concealed this place had fallen. Now the parapet was open to the cool night air. Stars rained down light, sprinkling it liberally over the gray stone. Flowers, overflowing from gray pots, gleamed like starfish in the darkness, perfuming the night air. Pennyroyal petals and seeds had been strewn upon the floor, giving a heavenly scent.

This would be a pleasant place to die, she thought.

Rhianna gasped, sweat streaming from her face after the short flight, and peered down at Fallion, her heart burdened with worry.

Down below, the thunder drums had fallen silent. Rhianna had seen the huge battering rams that the wyrmlings carried through the city, entire trees felled just for this purpose, bound with iron rings, fitted with brass heads shaped like snarling lions. With a single thrust of each battering ram, sparks and fire had flown out, and the great iron doors had shattered, torn from their hinges.

There was nothing to stop the wyrmlings from taking the city now. It had no defenses left. The warriors that held the tunnels were too few in number. They might slow the wyrmlings for an hour, but that was it.

Dawn was still an hour away. The eastern skies were brightening on the edge of the horizon, washing out the stars.

King Urstone spoke. Rhianna did not understand his words, but she understood the tone. He pointed to the east.

“Take him and go,” King Urstone said, “if you can carry him. Save yourselves. There is nothing more that we can do. The city is lost, and I wish to die with my people. The wyrmlings will be inside within an hour, and nothing can save us.”

Rhianna nodded. “Give me a little while more.” She knelt and gently touched Fallion’s wound. He had already fainted from loss of blood, and it was just beginning to clot. To try to move him would only cause the wound to break open. She didn’t dare risk it.

With a heavy heart, High King Urstone nodded, then took a fighting stance above Fallion’s body and just stood above him, battle-ax gripped in both hands, on guard. “I will watch with you as long as I can.”

Vulgnash studied the three as he plunged from the clouds, and his heart filled with glee. They were unaware of him until the instant that he landed in a rush of wings, standing upon a stone railing above them.

High King Urstone roared and whirled, his battle-ax swinging at Vulgnash’s legs. The movement seemed painfully slow. With five endowments of metabolism, Vulgnash easily leapt above the blow and still had time to cast a spell that drained Fallion of precious heat, chilling his body to near death.

The air on the parapet suddenly turned to ice, and fogged from the mouths of Vulgnash’s enemies. The flowers in their pots began to rime with frost.

Rhianna shouted and batted at Vulgnash with her staff.

He knew that weapon. It was a deadly thing. He had tried to curse it into oblivion, and he had imagined that it would be rotted by now, full of wood worms, but the staff still glittered in the starlight, hale and deadly.

The relic was a curiosity. He was amazed that it held such power, and at some future time, he hoped to study it further.

Vulgnash stepped aside, and Rhianna’s blow connected only with stone.

“Be gone, foul beast!” King Urstone roared, twisting his battle-ax to come in for another blow.

Vulgnash smiled. With his endowments of brawn and metabolism, he felt stronger and swifter than ever before. He had just made a flight that should have taken all night in less than two hours.

Soon, he thought, I will be Lady Despair’s most trusted servant.

Already he had begun to figure out new ways to twist forcibles. In Rugassa, torture was considered both a science and an art. And tonight, Vulgnash had advanced the science to new heights. He had created special forcibles for Areth Sul Urstone. By binding a rune of touch to a rune of empathy, he’d created forcibles that not only let a lord feel more strongly, but feel the tortures that the runelord’s Dedicates endured.

In the days to come, Vulgnash felt certain that he could raise the art of the runelords to heights that had never been dreamt of on Fallion’s world.

Now Vulgnash was eager to test his new-found strength in battle.

“Come with me,” Vulgnash said softly to those who stood between him and his prey, “and I will lead you to the land of shadows.”

The High King swung his ax, and Vulgnash leapt out and swiftly kicked the elbow of the king’s left arm. The ax went flying from his hand, over the parapet and into the darkness.

Rhianna shouted a war cry and swung her staff at Vulgnash’s waist. To Vulgnash the blow seemed laughably slow.

He reached down with a foot and kicked the High King, whose brows were still arced in surprise, shoving him into the path of Rhianna’s blow.

The great staff slammed against Urstone’s head with a snapping sound, as if it had hit stone. The king’s helmet shattered and a fine mist of blood sprayed out from the back of his head. Urstone fell. His body slumped over the railing.

Rhianna only stopped, heart pounding in horror at what she’d done.

Vulgnash leapt from the railing, his movements so fast that his speed was blinding.

He’s a runelord, Rhianna realized.

She swung her staff. The Knight Eternal dodged, and the staff struck the ledge with a jolt. He kicked her arm, and the staff tumbled over the parapet.

He smiled down at her, and Rhianna stood gasping. She had no weapon that could touch him. He knew it. Her only hope was to go after the staff.

But in doing so, she would leave Fallion alone, unprotected.

Fallion. All that the Knight Eternal wanted was Fallion.

Rhianna swiftly pulled a dagger, then put it to Fallion’s carotid artery.

“Leave,” she demanded. “Or so help me, I’ll kill him.”

This is what Fallion would want me to do, she thought. Fallion feared that his powers would be turned to evil. He knew what Lady Despair wanted. She wanted Fallion to bind the worlds into one, all under her control.