James Barclay - Once walked with Gods

Auum sprinted down the centre of the street. Marack was at his shoulder, Takaar a little way behind. Merrat and Grafyrre moved past them. Soldiers squared up. Above and left, Thrynn chased along their flank. More mages were preparing to cast.

Auum thrashed into the shaky human barrier moments after Grafyrre sank his blade into the midriff of a scared soldier. Auum’s fist cracked into his target’s nose. He kicked down at the enemy’s knee, taking him off balance, and rammed his blade into the man’s side, butchering vital organs. Blood sluiced onto the ground.

Takaar barrelled into another, wrapping his arms around the man’s trunk and bearing him down. The two of them rolled. Takaar came up looking a little dazed. The man had dropped his weapon. He opted to punch. Takaar caught his fist in one hand and straight-fingered into the man’s throat with his other.

Auum ran on. Thrynn and his cell pounded to the edge of their rooftop and dived off. Below them, mages readied to cast. TaiGethen engulfed them.

‘Straight to the museum,’ said Takaar. ‘They’ll want to take it-’

Takaar stumbled and fell, clutching his head and screaming. Auum slithered to a stop, Marack by him. The TaiGethen faltered.

‘No,’ said Takaar, grinding the words from locked jaws. ‘Go. It’s coming. Help them.’

Auum pushed back to his feet.

‘The museum. Now. Get it open.’

TaiGethen and Apposan ran. They burst out of the street and onto the museum square. Pelyn was there by Auum, her feet slapping on the cobbles. There was a ring of soldiers around the grand building, and the lines of the Tul-Kenerit which it mimicked brought unwanted memories to Auum’s mind. Beyond the museum, the Path of Yniss danced with light. The human army was coming.

Torchlight washed the square. There were mages overhead, shouting orders. Soldiers were turning, moving away from their mages, forming a defensive line. From the north, a massive explosion rumbled through the ground and flames lit up the ocean sky. Auum swore. Even he could feel that in the pit of his stomach. He prayed as he ran that his brothers had been fast enough to beat it.

This time, the mages didn’t turn. They were focused on the museum. Auum could see arms stretched out in effort. Limbs shook with exertion. Bodies trembled. A soft green light began to grow in the sky above. It coalesced, brightening quickly.

‘Forget the warriors,’ shouted Grafyrre. ‘Two cells up and over. Apposans to ready. Pelyn, stand and face.’

Auum picked up his pace. He flashed across the square, feeling an increasing weight on his chest as the light grew and deepened. The casting was pulsating. Flashes of brown light could be seen within it. It was like one of the orbs only so much bigger. It would be seen right across the city.

Auum threw a jaqrui at the nearest soldier. He threw it high. The soldier ducked. Auum planted his right foot and sprang up. He tucked in his body, rolled in the air and came down on his left foot, already moving towards the first mage.

Auum took his sword in both hands and smashed it into the mage’s lower back. The man pitched forward, dead before he hit the ground. Auum turned left, jabbed the blade into another’s throat. Blood spurted out. The mage collapsed to his knees. Auum turned right. Marack beheaded one mage, spun and kicked out at the head of another, catching him in the temple and sending him sprawling. Merrat finished him, Above them, the casting guttered and blinked out.

Auum twisted and faced the soldiers. Pelyn and the Apposans were already on them with the balance of the TaiGethen. Above, the casting had begun to grow again. Grafyrre called for more to attack the casters.

‘Right!’ cried Thrynn. ‘Force moving in on our right.’

Hundreds of men, backed by mages in the air and on the ground, poured into the square from the Path of Yniss. Auum cursed.

‘To the doors. Apposans to the doors!’ Pelyn shouted her order and led them across the open space to the rear doors of the museum.

They were barred and chained. Apposans fell on them with their axes, hacking and slashing at timber and steel. Sparks flew. Timbers began to shatter and crack.

‘TaiGethen, defend the door.’

So like before. So like ten years ago. TaiGethen made a thin barrier in front of the Apposans. Pelyn came back to stand with Auum. Soldiers were filling the square, cutting off their way back towards Old Millers and relative safety. Back there in the street, Takaar still lay helpless.

Above their heads, the green globe grew and grew. It rotated. Lightning spat within it. Mages they would never reach controlled it. Brought their casting closer and closer to fruition. Behind, Apposan axes hammered at the doors. TaiGethen took down more mages. Auum could hear the screaming of the Gyalans within and the shouts of their rescuers for calm. They would get none.

Ahead of Auum the soldiers had stopped moving in and were even backing up. Every eye was on the casting. None on the elves in front of them.

‘Get that door down,’ urged Grafyrre.

He stood to Auum’s left, his eyes burning, his face ashen with the grief he fought to contain. The door went down. Gyalans, urged by Apposans, poured out behind the TaiGethen. The sky went silent. The pressure on Auum’s ears built to a painful crescendo. Something was wrong. Auum glanced back and up. The globe was wobbling. Fire lashed from its sides. Lightning speared down. Auum followed its trail to where it buried itself in the heart of a casting mage. He heard shouting. Humans. Desperate and afraid.

‘Run!’ yelled Auum. ‘Run!’

The TaiGethen broke their line and ran, forming a cordon around their Gyalan charges. The globe plunged down onto the museum. Men began running, scattering. Green light flooded the museum square. There was a sucking at the air. Wind pushed into Auum’s face. He heard the shattering of a thousand tiles and then a dull bass thump.

‘Down!’

Auum threw himself forward, hit the ground and rolled onto his back. He had to watch. Had to see.

Gyalans were still pouring out of the doors. Apposans literally throwing them into the square. Around him, most had taken his lead and fallen prone. Green light grew behind the open doors, deep within the museum. There was a crackle as of lightning buried in clouds. Next heartbeat, the museum exploded.

The walls either side of the doors bulged and disintegrated, hurling stone and timber hundreds of yards across the square. Flame blew through the open doors. Gyalan, Apposan, TaiGethen – anyone standing in its arc was gone in a blink. Bodies turned to ashes. Elf and man still standing were picked up and cast aside on the wind of the detonation. Bodies twisted and flipped as they bounced. Limbs out of control. Blood smeared the square.

Above, the roof of the museum was spat into the night sky. Lumps of masonry and wood, fragments of exhibits and what might have been bodies were thrown high and clear. The echoes of the explosion slammed around Auum’s head. He stared up. Spiralling high, shapes tumbled end over end. Some small, some big, the size of oxen and carts.

They began to fall.

‘Up!’ Auum’s shout was taken up by every TaiGethen at once. ‘Up and run. Now.’

Auum pushed himself to his feet. A timber thumped to the ground where he had been lying. It splintered. He felt shards rip into his trousers and lodge in his legs. He stumbled and steadied. Auum ran from iad to ula. Dragging them up, pushing them towards the north. Towards Takaar.

Quickly, the movement gained a momentum of its own. Auum turned. Pelyn was racing past him. He followed her direction. Men were forming up again. Running back into the square. Just a thin line.

‘TaiGethen.’ The blessed sound of Grafyrre’s voice. ‘Make a path. Apposans to the rear. Tais, we move.’