Chris Evans - The Light of Burning Shadows

“No time to worry about that now, because we’ve got bigger problems,” Yimt said.

Alwyn raised his head and followed Yimt’s gaze. A dust cloud to the south smudged the horizon, and it was moving fast.

“That’s the regiment,” Alwyn said, “isn’t it?” His head felt light and heavy at the same time. His right knee started to buckle, but he caught himself and stood up straight. He noticed no one came close to steady him.

“No, that ain’t the Iron Elves,” Yimt replied. “They’ll be coming down from the north following the same route we took. Whoever that is is heading northwest. My guess is that’s the tribes of the Expanse. If the people in Nazalla know a Star is returning, you can bet their desert kin will, too.”

“Our quarrel is not with them,” Miss Red Owl said. “Surely they will see we share their desire to restore the natural order.”

“Chayii, you forget we’re part and parcel of the Iron Elves now,” Rallie said, “and that means we’re seen as agents of the Empire.”

Miss Red Owl looked as if she’d been slapped. “But that’s absurd! I oppose the Empire and its wanton acts of destruction. I side with it now only because we share a common enemy in the Shadow Monarch that threatens all our existence. Surely these people can be made to see reason.”

“Another time, perhaps,” Yimt said, “but I wouldn’t bet my life on it today.”

Rallie brought out the map. “The Canyon of Bones is just ahead. We should head for it now while we still can.”

“We’d be exposed if we got caught out there. Here we have defensible positions,” Yimt said. “Those huts are sturdy and give us a good line of fire.”

“We can’t stay here,” Alwyn said, “we have to go after Kester. Wherever they’re taking him is where we have to be as well.”

“We still have Hrem and Visyna and the others in that tunnel. I don’t know about just leaving them behind,” Yimt said.

“But the Star isn’t coming here. Can’t you feel it?” Alwyn said. “I don’t know how to explain this, but…”

“He’s right,” Rallie said. “Power fills the air, Sergeant, power from a time long past. When that power arrives, we need to be there. Private Renwar needs to be there.”

“You’re probably right,” Yimt said, “but it don’t do us any good if we’re killed before we get there.”

“Sergeant,” Scolly said, coming up to stand near Yimt.

“Not now, Scolly, we’re busy. If you’re hungry go check the wagon. Now,” Yimt said, turning back to them, “I don’t see that we have a ch-”

“Sergeant,” Scolly said again, this time tugging on Yimt’s sleeve.

Yimt spun around and looked up at Scolly. “What?”

“I don’t want to go into the forest,” Scolly said. His voice was quiet with fear.

Yimt kneaded his forehead with his fingers. “Other than four bloody palm trees and a couple of fig trees, there ain’t a forest for a thousand miles around here.”

“Yes, there is,” Scolly said, pointing northwest toward the distant coast.

Alwyn almost reached for his spectacles, but there was no longer any need. He felt the forest before he saw it. Twenty, perhaps thirty, miles away a cold, obsidian stain was spreading out across the desert floor. It was a mass of black sarka har crawling across the sand. Frost fire sparkled in its depth. It spread out as far as the eye could see. Miles upon miles of sarka har. This was nothing like the small forest that had ringed Luuguth Jor. This was enormous.

“Oh, hell…” Yimt said.

It was like watching an incoming tide. “It’ll be here by nightfall.”

“It’s the end,” Inkermon said, closing his eyes and praying.

Yimt stomped the dirt. “You might not be too far off, Inkermon, but let’s see if we can’t postpone that for a bit, if it’s all the same to you.”

Rallie walked briskly to the wagon and mounted it in one leap. She picked up the reins in her hands and looked down at the soldiers. “We need to get moving. My team can make the canyon before either the Hasshugeb or the sarka har. We’ll find a place to hole up once we’re inside, but we need to go, now.”

“Rallie’s right, we must go forward,” Miss Red Owl said. “The risk is great, but to do nothing is to risk so much more. You know this, Yimt of the Warm Breeze. The others in the tunnel are capable of fending for themselves. Visyna is with them, and her power is strong. We must trust to things greater than ourselves now.”

Yimt got a firmer grip on his shatterbow and looked toward the forest of sarka har spreading toward them, then to the dust cloud rapidly closing from the other direction. “Are you sure your brindos can outrun that forest? If we get caught in that there’s no amount of frost fire that’s going to pull us through.”

Rallie pulled a cigar from her cloak and stuck it in her mouth. The cigar lit itself. She took a puff and then cracked her neck, first to the left, then to the right. She looked up to the whirling sreexes and whistled. The birds squawked once in return and wheeled and headed north. “Every second we delay casts the possibility in further doubt, so we had better move now.”

“Mount up!” Yimt ordered.

Alwyn limped to the wagon and climbed into the back with the empty cages. Scolly and Inkermon came in after him, while Yimt and Miss Red Owl sat up front. The wagon was already moving while Alwyn was still looking for a place to get comfortable, a search that he quickly realized was pointless. “Hang on to whatever jiggles because this ride is going to be a tad bumpier than last night!” Rallie shouted back to them.

The wagon flew over a small crest and plunged down the other side. Dust flew into the air and the wind whistled past Alwyn’s ears. At another time this would have been exhilarating if terrifying. Now, it felt too slow. He looked over the side and watched the approaching forest. It crawled like a broken-legged spider, the trunks and limbs of the sarka har thrusting out of the sand and clawing forward with ragged, uneven lunges.

Dark clouds grew taller above it. A single bolt of lightning slashed down among the trees, setting off a cascade of frost fire. This forest was a sick and angry thing. Alwyn felt the pain radiate out from the trees.

And the hunger.

He turned away, casting his glance to the oncoming tribes of the Hasshugeb. He could just make out dark shapes at the base of the towering dust cloud above them.

The wagon was now between closing pincers. He looked forward.

Wind buffeted Alwyn’s face and grit got into his nose, ears, and mouth, but not his eyes. Whatever grit touched his eyes burned with either white flame or black. It was an odd sensation, but it helped to take his mind off the roiling forces inside him. Was he like those creatures he’d killed just a few hours ago? Two magics joined that should never have existed in the first place?

Finally, there in the distance the land sloped upward and became two rocky shoulders overlooking a narrow passage between them-the Canyon of Bones.

Alwyn slumped in the wagon and held on as best he could. The sun continued to sink and shadows lengthened as they raced for the opening and whatever waited for them there.

Alwyn silently urged the brindos on. Another bout of pain racked his body. The new Star was coming. It pulled at his senses as if tied to his very soul. The world was about to change again.

He studied his hands as they held his musket and knew he could not go on like this.

Tentatively, he tried to call up the frost fire, just a little. Immediately, the white flame responded as well, and the magics scissored through him. He tried to extinguish the flames as he gasped for breath, but he couldn’t put them out. He focused harder. The flames came under control, but they would not die.