Terry Brooks - Witch Wraith

He left for her home after that, not eager to venture into that black den of rumors and strangeness but unable to do anything less if he wanted to find her. He reached it quickly enough and pounded on the door. A servant spoke to him through a slit in the door and told him her mistress wasn’t there, either. She had been gone all day.

Keeton tried to think where else to look, but didn’t know enough about Edinja even to make an educated guess. He considered speaking to members of the Coalition Council, but what would he say to them that would make a difference?

He went back to the walls, resigned to pursuing the matter in the morning. For now, he needed to sleep. He trudged through the darkened streets, plagued by the nagging feeling that events were overwhelming them and their chances were slipping away. This enemy seemed unstoppable, its size and the alien nature of its creatures beyond anything they had ever encountered. Traditional tactics weren’t going to be enough to stop them. In the end, they were going to break through and the city was going to be overrun, and all the weapons and warships in the world weren’t going to be enough to prevent it.

Worse, he believed now that he wasn’t the man for the job he had been given. He wasn’t trained to command an entire army. He had never envisioned he would be the one made responsible for the defense of a city of thousands against an enemy no one had ever before encountered. He was a tactical commander of First Response, a small elite unit designed to execute surgical strikes and provide brief but intense defensive fire on larger enemy forces. He wasn’t trained for what was happening now.

But then, who was?

All this was something more than anyone he knew was equipped to handle.

He reached his quarters and went to bed, exhausted and dismayed.

When he woke, the sun was just rising. He washed, dressed in fresh clothes, and went out to find Wint. His second was still sleeping, so he let him be. The city was quiet, the walls manned but unchallenged since the previous night. No further attacks had been launched. Peering out over the surrounding countryside, he found bodies and scorched earth, but not much else.

He asked after Sefita Rayne and was told she was sleeping but had asked to be woken if he needed her. He shook his head and said to let her be. As with Wint, there was no reason not to let her sleep. Even this small respite might be of some help. With no immediate sign of the enemy, he could assume the next attack would come with night’s return.

Although he hadn’t been able to correctly anticipate the timing of anything the attackers had attempted so far, he reminded himself quickly.

He ate breakfast with some of his men, and then took his place on the wall to keep watch. He was feeling better rested than he had thought he would, and his mind was already hard at work turning over possibilities for improving their situation.

He was still struggling with that effort when drums began to boom from somewhere off to the west. They began all at once—a thunderous sound that broke the stillness of the morning with a steady pounding that reverberated all across the city. Keeton and those standing with him on the walls stood in silence and stared out across the flats leading off toward the ridgeline where the demons had first appeared two days ago.

Within minutes, Wint appeared at his elbow. “You should have woken me.”

Keeton nodded. “I suppose.”

They watched the ridgeline, waiting. The minutes slipped away, the drumming continued, but nothing else happened.

Then, abruptly, a long dark line of bodies surged over the crest of the ridge, trudging toward Arishaig’s walls. They did not march or attempt to keep cadence, but simply moved in a huge wave that washed over the ridgeline and down onto the flats. Keeton peered north and south to measure the length of the line and could not find its ends. He waited for the wave to trickle off, but it continued to flow like a living thing—thousands of bodies of all shapes and sizes, churning and roiling toward the city and its defenders.

When the wave had gotten to within five hundred feet of the wall, it stopped. Keeton could just see the last of its stragglers as they came into view over the crest of the ridge. Were there even more beyond that? Keeton couldn’t tell. Not that it mattered. The numbers he could see were more than enough to engulf the city and its defenders and put an end to both.

“That’s an awful lot for us to stop,” Wint whispered.

Keeton nodded. “You must be reading my mind.”

The attack force paused a few moments longer as the drums beat on, then it swung left as if become a single body and began to move clockwise around the walls in a slow, steady surge. It made no effort to come closer or to employ any weapons. It showed virtually no interest in the city at all. It simply began circling the walls, a huge silent snake winding about its prey.

Keeton backed away. “How many weapons and men do we have on the other walls?”

“Less than half of what we have west and south,” his second answered. “What do you want me to do?”

In truth, Keeton didn’t know. “Come with me.”

He found Sefita Rayne where he had left her the previous night, standing on the battlements atop the west gate. She turned at his approach, brushing back her blue-streaked hair, a look of grim determination etched on her face.

“Can you signal the warships we have aloft to keep pace with them?” he asked quickly, indicating the enemy force.

“Already done,” she answered, pointing skyward to the north. “I’m keeping a pair of vessels in reserve at the southwest corner in case this is another feint. The rest will track this new threat.” She shook her head. “What are they up to?”

“Nothing good.” Keeton watched the marchers turn the north corner and start east, the drums still beating in the distance. “We don’t have enough defenders to hold all the walls.”

“We don’t have enough defenders to hold the city period if they come at us with all those bodies,” she answered with a snort. “Even the warships won’t be able to hold them off.”

They stood together, still watching the demon snake wrap itself around the city. “I can’t march my soldiers around the walls like that,” Keeton muttered. “It will wear them out if I do. They’re worn down already as it is.”

“Did you find Edinja?” Sefita asked.

He shook his head. “No one knows where she is.”

“Then she’s left.”

Keeton stared at her. “She wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t dare.”

“That woman would dare anything,” Wint said.

“Abandon us? Abandon the city?” Keeton shook his head. “It would be the end of her career as Prime Minister.”

“I wouldn’t want to bet on it.”

Keeton fought down a sudden rush of anger. He turned to Wint. “Go see if there’s been any word since last night. Go to the Council Buildings and to her home. Demand an answer. Insist she come to the west wall. Use my name.”

Wint departed without comment.

Keeton waited with Sefita Rayne, watching the demonkind continue their march, listening to the insistent pounding of the drums. Odd, he thought, but they couldn’t even see where those drums were positioned. It was as if the sound were coming out of the earth itself, as if the netherworld had opened up and released its dead.

Abruptly, a fresh horde of creatures appeared atop the ridgeline, cresting its heights and spilling over, thousands strong.

“I knew it,” Sefita said.

Keeton watched in disbelief as this new threat gathered momentum and surged toward the west wall.

Farther south, but still within the Four Lands and outside the breach in the Forbidding, the shape-shifter Oriantha crouched beside Tesla Dart in the shelter of a heavy woods and watched the attack on Arishaig quicken. They were only a quarter mile from the cage that held Redden Ohmsford prisoner, still looking for a way to set him free.