Chris Evans - The Light of Burning Shadows

Tyul smiled. “I will help you, too.”

He lunged forward at the first skeleton, grabbing the hilt of his dagger and twisting, knowing the pain would be intense. At the same time he brought his right elbow up and across, smashing it into the skull. There was a snap and the skull went toppling to the ground. Tyul pulled his dagger from its chest, though the skeleton did not fall. It remained standing in place, but now showed no signs of movement. Tyul turned to face the other three.

Each held a long, curved sword made of bone in a skeletal hand. Death whispered on the air as the blades arced toward him, but Tyul jumped gracefully to the side and out of their path. His left hand throbbed, but he kept it clenched on his dagger while with his right hand he reached behind his back for his quiver and grabbed Jurwan by the scruff of the neck. With one fluid motion, he threw the squirrel at the nearest skeleton while he pivoted to attack the other two.

Jurwan flew through the air and landed flat on the front of a skull. He scampered out of the way as the skeleton brought its sword up to cleave him in two. The sword missed Jurwan, but hit above the skeleton’s left eye socket, fracturing a large opening in the skull. Jurwan dove into the opening, his bushy tail disappearing a moment later. White flame flared in the skull’s eye sockets and its lower jaw dropped open in a silent scream. The skeleton crumpled to the ground.

Tyul sidestepped a sword cut and reached down for a large clay pot sitting by a wall. He scooped it up one-handed and swung it like a club against the skull of the nearest skeleton. Both skull and pot smashed, leaving Tyul with just a pottery shard in his right hand. The white fire in the skull’s eye sockets went out immediately as the skeleton wobbled and fell to the ground.

The last intact skeleton lifted its sword high above its head, prepared to strike. Tyul saw his opening and took it, running forward and jamming the dagger and the shard into its eye sockets. The impact shattered the skull in a burst of white fire. Tyul fell backward, both hands numb and twitching. His dagger and the pottery shard slipped from his grasp.

Tyul looked over at the first skeleton. It still stood in place. Jurwan emerged from the wreckage of his opponent and leaped over to the skull with fire still burning inside. He sniffed at it, then turned and chirped to Tyul.

Tyul looked around and gingerly picked up another clay pot in his throbbing hands, wincing as he did so. He calmly walked over to the skull. The white flame grew brighter as he neared and the jaws began to open as if to speak, tipping the skull backward so that the light shone toward the sky. Tyul brought the pot down onto the skull, smashing both. A spear of white flame shot skyward and was gone. A clattering noise marked the collapse of its skeleton as it fell to the ground and disintegrated into a pile of dust.

Voices called out from a nearby building. The sound of running feet echoed off the walls. Tyul bent and picked up his dagger as Jurwan climbed onto his back. He sifted the sand through the fingers of his right hand, then cast it in an arc over the ground.

“You’re welcome,” he remarked, and ran after his quarry.

I ’ve lost sight of Rallie,” Visyna said, holding the hem of her gown as she hurried to follow along. Chayii led her to the far end of the palace grounds, to which Rallie’s wagon and menagerie of animals had been relegated. They passed by several soldiers, who seemed unsure if they should bow or salute or both.

“She knows where we’re going. Hurry, we must hurry,” Chayii said as she darted between some flowering cactuses.

Visyna hoisted her dress up even higher and broke into a run, hoping no one would see her like this. “What is it you think you heard?”

“I heard the voice of Rising Dawn, no matter how faint,” Chayii said, not slowing her pace. “Tyul has used his oath weapon, and not without cost. Another magic is at work here.”

“The Shadow Monarch,” Visyna said.

“I have no doubt Her forces are here, but no, this felt different.” Now she did stop and turned to Visyna. “Did you not hear or feel anything?”

Visyna shook her head. “I’m not sure. Earlier I thought I did sense something, but all the noise at the party made it difficult to understand, and then it was gone.”

Chayii gave her a brief smile. “You are more attuned to the natural order than I thought.”

Visyna blushed slightly at the compliment. Chayii turned and they both ran the rest of the way to Rallie’s wagon. The glow of a cigar tip revealed that the old woman was already there.

“How did you do that?” Visyna asked. “You were behind us when we left the party.”

Rallie blew out a mouthful of smoke and smiled. “I know how to get around. Speaking of which, mind your step, dear. This is definitely a well-attended party.”

Visyna looked down and saw what Rallie meant. Piles of horse and camel manure dotted the lane. The more manure there was to clean up in the morning, the more horses and carriages had been there the night before.

“An odd way to measure the success of a party,” Chayii said.

“Think of it in terms of tracking quarry,” Rallie said. “If this were a forest, you could glean much from what’s scattered on the ground around us, no?”

Chayii made a small bow. “Your city-craft is impressive. I have always had difficulty navigating through large, populated areas such as this. The desecration of the natural order is so violent here.”

Visyna felt it as well. A city oozed pollution like an open wound. The land became sick and the natural power tainted. For weavers of magic such as herself it took great effort to sift through the energy to find clean, usable threads. She sighed. She could spend her whole life purging the polluted energy in Nazalla and still never be done.

The sreexes, Rallie’s batlike courier birds, squawked from inside the covered wagon and a moment later Jir jumped out of the back, his collar and chain no longer attached. He stuck his head high in the air and sniffed.

“Feels good, doesn’t it, boy?” Rallie said, leaning down to scratch the bengar on top of his head.

Jir’s purr grew so loud in volume that the hair on the back of Visyna’s neck began to rise. She gave herself a shake. The bengar was a powerful force even when it was contented.

Visyna quickly changed out of her gown and into travel clothes. She threw the gown into the back of the wagon. Chayii had no need to change, as she’d refused to put on a gown and kept her elven clothing, while Rallie had merely adorned her black cloak with a pink bow, which she now removed and put in an inside pocket.

“There, back to informal. Now, shall we go?” Rallie asked, sitting down on the wagon seat and grabbing up the reins.

Visyna and Chayii climbed up after her while Jir hopped into the back, seemingly content now that he wasn’t collared.

“We must find Tyul,” Chayii said. “In his state, he is very unpredictable. I thought he would be safe if left on the ship. I thought they would both be safe.”

Visyna reached out and placed a hand on Chayii’s shoulder. The elf bore more heartache than most. Tyul was diova gruss, lost in the power of a Silver Wolf Oak. Her husband, Jurwan, was equally enthralled and remained locked in squirrel form.

And then there was her son.

“At least we know where Konowa will be for the next several hours,” Visyna said.

Rallie clicked her tongue and flicked the reins. The brindos tossed their heads, then settled down and began to walk. Looking for all the world like horses wearing dark gray armor, the plates of their tough hides slid over their bodies in an unsettling fashion, while the animals’ floppy ears bounced up and down as they moved forward. Their stubby tails wagged furiously-whether in joy to be on the move, or in a vain attempt to keep away flies, it wasn’t clear.