Terry Brooks - Witch Wraith

He took the two-man over the walls and out onto the flats, rising into the air lane just above the approach road and the watchtowers bordering it. Passing over the towers, he was surprised to discover that they were all still manned. Normally, the men and women stationed in those towers would have been brought in right away if an invading army threatened.

Which made him wonder why that hadn’t been done here and who exactly was attacking Arishaig.

Once past the last of the towers and out over the grasslands, he found the answer to the second question quickly enough. A huge army was massed all along the ridgeline that formed the extreme south end of the Prekkendorran Heights. But this wasn’t an army of the sort he or anyone else he knew had ever encountered, and he sensed immediately that it did not consist of either Elves or soldiers from Callahorn’s Border Cities. It was massive beyond anything he had ever seen—beyond anything he had even imagined possible, for that matter. It measured hundreds deep and was stretched three or four miles wide. There was no order to it, no recognizable formation, and there was no obvious indication of how it was being commanded. It was simply a huge collection of bodies of all shapes and sizes, all looks and behavior, pushed to the edge of the ridgeline and somehow held in place so that it advanced no farther.

“What army is that?” he heard Wint exclaim in shock.

He might have answered if he’d been given more time, but he was distracted by a flurry of winged forms rising from the masses directly toward his flit. Reacting instantly, he spun the craft away and raced down the edge of the invading army, escaping this fresh assault while still trying to make out something recognizable in the faces and bodies of its members.

“Those creatures aren’t anything we know,” Wint shouted from the weapons hold behind him. “Maybe they really are demons!”

Keeton didn’t believe that for a second, no matter what they looked like. There weren’t any demons in the Four Lands. Hadn’t been any in centuries, and even those were mostly rumors. This was something else, but he didn’t know what.

And he didn’t have time to speculate on it now or even to try to sort through the different creatures he was looking at. The winged things were coming for them, closing the distance separating them more rapidly than should have been possible. A flit was fast and agile, and Keeton didn’t know of anything living that could keep up with it in the air.

He glanced back at them as he pushed the flit’s thrusters forward to gain speed. Were those women’s faces on those giant birds?

Then Wint used the rail slings, and several of the birds went down in a tangle of nets and metal weights.

Seconds later they were in the clear, heading back toward the watchtowers and the approach road. The winged creatures had broken off their attack, apparently satisfied simply with driving the flit away. On the ridgeline, the invaders howled and screamed, and Keeton felt a chill go down his spine in spite of himself.

“Have those sentries in the watchtowers evacuated as soon as we get back, Wint,” he shouted to his Second.

The other made a gesture of acquiescence, his eyes watching for fresh attackers, not persuaded that some sort of reprisal for their decision to come so close to the invaders wasn’t still possible.

Keeton sped toward Arishaig’s walls. He did not like how what he had just witnessed made him feel.

Edinja Orle had broken off her vigil on hearing of the approaching army and made her way to the walls above the west gate, where she had found and confronted Tinnen March.

Her words were laced with iron. “I want the army assembled and I want it ready to counterattack if the city is further threatened,” she snapped at him.

March nodded. “I have already ordered all soldiers to form up right here. We have placed units at all of the city gates and sent everyone not in the military to their homes to wait this out. If we are attacked, we will be ready.”

“Have you sent scouts to find out what these creatures are and where they come from?”

She had been seeking an answer to that question from everyone she encountered since arriving at the wall, but no one seemed to know. Not that it mattered. She knew. She had pretty much known from the moment she heard mention of the word demons . What Arling Elessedil and her Druid sister had been trying to prevent was already happening. It was inconceivable, but at the same time inescapable. The demons inside the Forbidding were breaking out, and for some unknown reason they had come to Arishaig.

Tinnen March was speaking. “We are waiting on Commander Keeton who is doing a flyover. Protocol dictates that First Response makes the initial determination in situations such as these. It won’t take long. He will be back soon.”

Situations such as these. What would you know about it? Edinja cocked her beautiful face as if studying an odd insect and smiled with pure malice. “Then we’ll wait, won’t we?”

She didn’t like Keeton. She had tried to win him over early, had invited him up to her rooms in an effort to show him the benefits of becoming an ally, and had worked hard at persuading him of her interest in him. But Keeton was cut from a different cloth than most. Military through and through, he was suspicious of politicians and their motives. He wasn’t stupid, but he was troublesome.

She turned and walked away from Tinnen March, unwilling to spend another moment with such an idiot. She doubted he could lace his own boots without help. How had such a man ever risen to his present rank? Drust Chazhul had made him commander of the army after dispensing with Lehan Arodian, and that was proof enough that he was a servile dupe. Of course, she had left him in command for the same reasons; no effort was needed to get him to comply with her wishes. Now with the city under attack, she regretted not appointing someone stronger. But it was too late. Changing horses at this point would only frighten people and irritate the members of the Coalition Council.

Her thoughts drifted momentarily to Arling Elessedil, wandering about somewhere in the city streets. Cinla might still be tracking her, but she doubted it. Given the size of the crowds, the big moor cat would have had to turn back. Cinla could make herself invisible in situations where she had space and time to move, but she didn’t have either today. Edinja experienced a fresh twinge of rage. This whole business was ruining her plans for tracking the girl and finding her sister. At least she could take some comfort from knowing she had placed her marker on Arling and could always find her at some point. Nor did she have to worry about the girl getting out of the city. All exits were shut down, and an attempt to flee at this point would be foolhardy.

Demons! She said the word in the cool silence of her mind, but the venom it aroused burned like fire.

The sound of a returning flit drew her attention, and she watched the two-man slide into view and settle onto the landing platform at the corner of the battlement. Tinnen March was already striding over, accompanied by his adjutants. She waited until she saw Keeton climb from the cockpit and then walked over to join them.

“… can’t be sure of the number,” Keeton was saying. He glanced over at her approach, but only for a second. “They’re stretched out along the ridgeline for miles.”

“But what are they, Commander?” she interrupted, moving close to him. “Can you tell us that?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know what they are. They’re not human. They’re nothing of what we know in the Four Lands.”

“They are demons,” she said simply. “The Forbidding has broken down, and now those imprisoned are coming out. What are you going to do about it?”