Michael Foster - She Who Has No Name

Horse had finished off his own cluster of men and came trotting back to Samuel. ‘You hit like a nursemaid, Magician, but you did well in the end. I willlet you spar with my nephew sometime. He is seven, but he is a fair fighter. He would give you a sporting chance.’

Samuel nodded, with little time to return the banter, and Horse boundedoff to return to his god. The desert-men were still coming in swarms up both sides of the hill and Eric was now looking tired, trembling with sweat.

‘We need to do something now,’ Eric shouted. ‘I can’t keep this up much longer.’

Balten heard the call and ceased his spells. He drew something from under his cloak and held it to his lips. All at once, he began to pull more magic from the ether, gathering a cloud of power around himself.

‘What’s he doing?’ Eric asked, looking back with wild eyes.

Samuel stepped to Balten’s side, but he dared not disturb the man, for he was drawing magic around himself in terrible gulps, until he was encased in a brilliant white aura to Samuel’s gifted sight . The object in his hands was a tiny ring and Samuel’s eyes opened wide when he saw it. At first, he thought it was another such relic as the Argum Stone, but it emanated a power that marked it as something entirely different.

Balten opened his eyes and, as if awaking from a dream, he took a moment to recover his senses. He found the ring at his lips and blew upon it, simultaneously sending his entire pool of magic cascading into it. The world swooned around Samuel, as it did when his senses were overcome by great power, but just as quickly the sensation was over. Balten now had the ring balanced on the nail of his middle finger and Samuel was about to ask what the man was intending, when Balten simply flicked it away.

The ring flew-down towards the throng of bug-men and, in mid-flight, the spell took effect. It bounced once, springing high from the hard stone it had struck-higher than one would have expected and it seemed to be gathering momentum, rather than slowing down. It may have been a trick of Samuel’s eye, but the ring also seemed larger. As it bounced again, he realised it was,indeed,growinglarger atevery moment. It was now as wide as a hoop and as thick as his wrist. It sailed high and bounced for the third time and Samuel felt the rocks shudder beneath his feet.

‘Hold well!’ Balten called and shifted his legs apart for stability.

Samuel did the same, for the ring continued growing. It was now as big as a house and the rocks boomed as it struck and bounced once more. End over end it turned and it was only growing larger with each second, swelling to enormous proportions. It struck the Paatin horde and continued through them unabated. Bug-men scrambled to be out of its way, but the enormous ring came crashing down upon them all like an avalanche of ringed steel, shaking the hill with its fury.

‘What is that?’ Samuel asked, struggling to hold his legs as the ground shuddered violently. ‘One of the ancient relics?’

‘Not at all,’ Balten shouted back. ‘It is a simple trinket. It is my spell that is special.’

‘It’s missing most of them!’ Canyon declared, forthoughthe great ring was creating a path of destruction down the hill,those on either side of it went unscathed and climbed back to their feet only a moment after it had passed. Many of the leaping bug-men, caught mid-air, managed to pass through its tumbling centre entirely, remaining unharmed.

‘Have patience,’ said Balten. ‘I’m not interested in them. This is a present for their wizard.’

And Samuel could see his intent for,far below at the base of the hill,was a cluster of tan cloaks, where the Paatin were pushing inwards towards its black core, fighting to be changed into bug-men. The Paatin magic vanished as the ring fell upon them. The cluster of tan scattered and Balten released his spell.

‘Get down,’ hecommanded. Quickly, but carefully, he lowered himself to the ground and put his hands over his head.

The ring exploded and the base of the hill vanished in a cloud of fire. A shimmering wind raced up the slope and Samuel dropped to his chest as the shock wave hit him, striking like a hammer to his ears. The boom passed and echoed amongst the other low hills in the distance and,as the fiery cloud boiled up into the sky, itspewedembers and ash upon everything below it. Streaks of flaming debris flew high from the blast and began to rain down all around. Slowly, the magicians and their party climbed to their feet, cowering from the hot motes that also wafted down.

The bug-men on the near side of the hill were scattered across the rocks, lying still in yellow pools of their own sickly fluid, while the ground at the foot of the hill was veiled behind a thick cloud of dust. On the far side, the Paatin had gathered their wits and had begun to climb again. They had no way to see what had happened, but it had not stopped them from leaping to their bellies and taking cover at the sound of the explosion.

‘Now we will have to take care of this side,’ Balten said. ‘That should not be such a problem.’ Something caught his eye and he had only just turned his head to see when a great shadow crashed into him and sent him sprawling.

To his credit, Balten flung himself away from the great black thing as it thrashed to hang onto him. It rattled about on the stones before it found its legs and raised itself to face them, adjusting its smoking cloak into place. It was swathed in black cloth and shadow, for its features were hidden, but there was no doubt that this was Om-rah, the Paatin arch-wizard. He rose like a column before them, taller than two men, and laboured to breathe, his massive chest expanding and contracting in time to the rattling in his throat. He was a hulking beast of a creature and,as he raised his arm, a claw slipped out from his long black sleeve and pointed towards Balten with a dagger-like finger.

‘Balten!’ it said, in a grinding, unsettling voice. Whether he had been a man once, Samuel did not know, but the thing called Om-rah seemed far from human.

‘So you finally crawl from your lair to face me, Wizard!’ Balten cried out towards the cowled thing. ‘I have crushed your brood upon the rocks. At last we can settle our score.’

Samuel realised his words were true, for the arch-wizard stank of perverted magic andonly hecould have been the source of the bug-men.

Om-rah grunted and spoke again in the guttural tongue of the Paatin. He finished with a mocking laughter that scraped up and out of his throat. Samuel wastensed and readyto move but,before anyone could react, the creature shot forward on chitinous wings and carried Balten away with it. Samuel and Ericgasped and followed the wizard with their gaze, but the pair disappeared into the smoke-ridden sky amongst flashes of tumultuous power and bolts of magic.

‘What do we do?’ Eric cried in alarm.

‘Don’t lose your head, boy,’ Master Celios replied. ‘We have to rid ourselves of these blasted desert-men! Balten will have to take care of himself. We need to save our own skins first!’

It was true;they had no time to worry about Balten as cloaked and snarling desert-men came clambering over the rise.

‘This way!’ Celios called and they beganscramblingdown the hill, following the ruinous path that Balten’s ring had laid behind it.

The Paatin followed them in a roar and cascaded down the mountain behind them. The occasional disoriented bug-man clambered towards them, but they dispatched those with barely a pause and continued down into the cloud of smoke and dust that now enshrouded the foot of the hill.

‘Which way?’ Eric asked, but Master Celiosappeared confused.

‘We cannot outrun them,’ the Emperor stated. ‘We need to stand and face them. Can you magicians not use your powers once again?’