Michael Foster - She Who Has No Name

‘We need to rest,’ Eric said.

‘Then we should run,’ the Koian ambassador suggested.

Theyclimbeddown the final length of the hill, with Horse pulling his god-woman by the hand. Smoke and haze consumed the air, and fires still marked the ground here and there-burning shrubs and bodies alike.

‘Take her, Samuel,’ Horse said, passing over the hand of his god. ‘I will guard our escape.’

The girl’s eyes looked out from her hood with fear, but she clutched onto Samuel’s hand for dear life. He nodded to the Koian warrior, who then vanished back into the miasma around them.

They had only justresumed their flightwhen a roar sounded in front of them and something enormous loomed. Dust and smoke swirled around and sand poured from the thing’s domed back as it arose and turned to face them.

‘What is that?’ the Emperor called out, but no one had the capacity to make an answer.

‘Don’t stand their gawking,’ Master Celios called, for once being the only one to keep his senses. ‘Run!’

Heshuffledawayas quickly as he couldand the othershastenedafter him. The beast swivelled, heaving itself in place and bellowing as it followed them with its stalked eyes. Samuel caught sight of crab-like claws extending from it body and could not imagine how any creature could grow to such proportions. Itstartedafter them, but the dust and smoke returned, obscuring the beast from sight as they left it behind.

They ran on blindly, always with the sound of their pursuer just behind. They coughed and struggled in the thick air, with no idea of where they were going or what lay ahead of them. Their only intention was to run.

A figure came bounding towards them but, thankfully,it was only Horse. He ran past them and began picking off the nearest Paatin, striking with sudden deadly blows, appearing and disappearing like a phantom. Samuel pulled the girl on by the hand, both of them barely able to stay on their feet.

‘Samuel!’ Eric spluttered. ‘We can’t go on. Send the others ahead. We have to stop and slow them as much as we can.’

Samuel stopped beside his friend. ‘No, Eric. You go on. I can do it alone.’ He pushed the girl towards him. ‘I haven’t used all my power yet. Keep going. Get as clear as you can.’

Eric took a moment to assess his words. ‘I’ll see you soon.’ With that, he dragged the girl away with him.

She watched Samuel as she was pulled away into the fog,hereyes open wide with alarm. Adozen stepslater andthe pair of them was swallowed into the thick blanket of dust and smoke.

Samuel stood alone,enveloped by the haze. He could hear the impending tide of Paatin soldiers approaching. A first set of feet sounded near and he readied to fight, but it was Horse who came galloping through the haze, bounding like a deer. He looked at Samuel for a moment, but sped on past, following his god.

Samuel again drew the Argum Stone from his pocket and prepared himself. He stood his ground, waiting for the impending multitudes to be upon him. Swallowing hard, he wiped the dust from his eyes, and plunged his finger into the ring. The sudden presence of thundering magic nearly overwhelmed him, but again he managed to swallow it down before it made him altogether giddy. The men were nearly upon him and he was sure he could killmostof them before they overpowered him, but he wanted to draw them all in; somehow guarantee thatEric andthe others would be free to escape. Withthat thought, he realised he was accepting his own death. It was not how he imagined himself meeting his end, but he supposed it could have been worse.

Opening his mind, he gathered the power of the ring and began his work, forging layers of shielding and protection upon himself, cocooning himself in unbreakable bands of magic, crafting the spells as he remembered themwhen theytoresuch impenetrable equivalents from the Emperor three or more years before. The spells fell into place and locked tightly around him.Content with their making, he actually looked forward to creating as much mayhem as he could.

When the first of the Paatin came running out of the haze, Samuel was ready for them and he yelled with fury as they fell upon him. He had first meant to evade as many blows as possible to save his power, but it was impossible, for it was like jumping into a river and trying to avoid the water. Twenty blades came chopping in upon him, then thirty, but they all bounced off his protective spells without effect. The Paatin took no notice and seemed whipped into a frenzy, for they continued chopping at him furiously. At first, he worried they might eventually get through to him, for their very weight had knocked him to the earth, but his spells were empowered by the limitless strength of the Argum Stone and it would take much more than the tapping of steel to worry him.

When the desert-men realised they could dohimno harm, some of themmoved past him, set to pursue the others, and Samuel knew it was time to act. It took only a thought and a pulse of magic blewincineratedthe Paatin around him. Others came running in and Samuel regained his feet and sent up mage-lights and bursts of mage-fire to attract their attention all the more. A hundred came and Samuel dropped them dead with his spells, and a hundred more followed. He felled them by the score with arcs of hissing magic that cut and burned and boiled the men as they ran. It was only when he felt the contents of his stomach rising did he realise he was pushing himself too quickly. He paused from sending out such spells and set about defeating the Paatin by hand.

He leapt forward and struck the incoming men with his balled fists. He remembered more of Horse’s advice and focussed his magic into the tips of his knuckles at the very moment of impact. Paatin screamed and died as he struck them one after another, breaking their bones in two with his blows and sending flesh exploding from their bodies with each strike. The men howled with anger and continued to fall in upon him, chopping and stabbing in vain hope that his magic might fail.

The endless torrent of Paatin angered him,and the endless violence and blood and gore infuriated him. He realised he was screaming and shaking, for the pain was incredible, but it also kept him squarely focussed on his task. He bellowed as he struck them again and again, killing onemanafter the other. Finally, as he dispatched one final foe, he realised he was alone. A carpet of corpses surrounded himand their compatriotshad retreated,fading off into the gloom to be away from him.

‘What’s wrong with you?’ Samuel roared at them, between heaving breaths. ‘Come and face me! Come and die!’ But no one returned to meet his challenge. ‘Come back!’ Samuel screamed at them, feeling blood in his mouth. ‘Come back and die!’

The men were away in the cloud of dust, but Samuel could still see the energy of their life,could still sense them flowing around him, just out of view. He was too exhausted to move and the thought of the Paatin escaping him and reaching the others made him lose all grip of his sanity. ‘No! You can’t get away!’ he babbled, and he began laughing hysterically.

He dropped his shields and gathered the magic back to be used again. He balled his gore-ridden hands together and started pumpingoldand fresh magic between them furiously. He made a tiny point within his hands and pressed his energy into it with glee. He remembered the spell that Goodfellow had released, and he would beat that effort ten, no-a hundred-fold. He would consume the desert with his power and none of the Paatin would survive.

He could smell his flesh burning and his fingers blistering, but he would not be slowed. He fed power into the spell as fast as he could unfurl it from the ring, and it seemed to come to him in endless volumes. He had never used such power and he had neither care nor forethought for the effect on his body, for he had become a conduit of power and the magic fell through him as fast as he could call it, tearing at his flesh as it passed.