Blood Of Gods

CHAPTER 49

Nothing had ever filled Aully with as much dread. Not being thrown in the dungeon, not watching the butchering of Noni and Aaromar, not those long days she sat fearing for her mother’s life, not even being forced to sit there helpless as Kindren had his fingers sliced off, one by one. No, the thing that lunged out of the forest before them, toppling trees as it roared, was terror incarnate.

Aully grasped hold of her mother and Kindren and wailed. Her entire body was quivering. She thought of her old friends, now gone after the massive creature tore through the city in the trees, devouring all it came across. Aully had escaped that fate, but now she and those who fled were trapped between the rampaging demon in front of them and the sheer cliff that plummeted into an ocean inlet behind. The choice between becoming a monster’s snack and plunging to her death was not a choice at all. Not even having with them Ceredon, the Quellan prince who had sacrificed so much to save them back in Dezerea, gave her a glimmer of hope.

“Keep steady!” Ceredon shouted, running along the line of survivors. The horde was huge, over two thousand as far as Aully could guess. Most of them were her fellow Stonewood Dezren, but interspersed among them were a number of the eastern deity’s human soldiers, their armor polished black. Although the humans seemed anxious, as if looking for a fight, the elves stared ahead with wide eyes, gawking at the beast rumbling toward them as their feet shuffled backward, edging closer and closer to the rim of the cliff. Few of them were warriors, and those that were had long before pledged their allegiance to Carskel. Aully spotted her bastard brother among their numbers, standing alongside Ethir Ayers, both of their expressions blank with shock, and for a waning moment hatred bubbled up within her, overtaking her fear. She scowled and shoved away from her mother and Kindren’s embrace, heat growing on her fingertips as she mouthed the words to a spell.

A hand grabbed hers. It was Ceredon. “Save it,” the handsome prince told her. “We will need it.”

The spell dispersed.

Ceredon kissed her on the cheek and dashed away, heading back toward the small cluster of human soldiers. When they spoke this time, it was hurried, hands waving, voices raised and frantic. Finally a woman, the most beautiful human Aully had ever seen, grabbed a man with a forked yellow beard by the collar, growled at him, and shoved him away. She handed Ceredon one of the shortswords that hung from her belt. A funny-looking man with a thick red beard and wearing a bright green, bloodstained robe, laughed. The odd man smacked Ceredon on the shoulder and hurriedly called out to the throng of humans in the common tongue.

The demon lurched into action, barreling across the stony ground like a charging bull. The thing was huge and bulbous, at least forty feet long, with a lashing spiked tail. Its rear legs ended in hooves that tore up the ground with each lumbering stride, sending bits of gravel and dirt into the air. The front legs each ended in five long, wickedly sharp claws. Its head was like that of a reptilian horse, with a triangular, slotted nose above a wide mouth filled with huge teeth that dripped with the blood of her people. A pair of giant tusks curled around from the hinge in its jaw, each coming to a point on either side of that slotted nose, and as it ran, it dipped its head, those tusks gouging into the earth. Its eyes were like a raging red inferno. Its forked serpent’s tongue licked the air. It was a nightmare made flesh.

Every remaining human soldier who had a horse mounted up. The beautiful woman swung up onto her charger, drew her sword, and sounded the charge. Hooves pounded the gravel-strewn ground as the humans fanned out. Those who had no horses ran behind, clustered together. There had to be four hundred of them.

“Do not just sit there!” screamed Ceredon. The prince stormed toward Davishon Hinsbrew, who stood gawking just outside of Carskel and his party, and slapped him across the cheek. Davishon staggered back, eyeing the Quellan with fright. “You have a bow-use it,” Ceredon growled at him before dashing away.

Davishon glanced back at Carskel for a moment before he seemed to gather his wits. The elf ran along the line of terrified elves, picking out those few who held bows, and pleading with them to follow him. He snatched his bow as he ran, nocking it just before he reached the front of the line. Only twenty other elves joined him. Their arrows sailed high into the air before descending toward the charging beast.

“Aully, Kindren-with me!” Ceredon yelled. Aully looked away from the archers and saw her protector dashing through the crowd. She was too numb to argue, so she simply followed his command, grabbing Kindren’s hand and putting one foot in front of the other as if in a dream. Lady Audrianna shouted at them to stay put, but her voice was carried away by the ruckus.

Ceredon reached them, grabbed them both by the hand, and then yanked them through the crowd, where another contingent of humans awaited. Unlike the other humans, these wore simple furs and knitted breeches instead of armor. The oddly dressed man in the pointed hat was among them.

Aully felt herself flying forward as Ceredon shoved her and Kindren in the odd man’s direction. “That’s all you have?” the man asked.

“For now, yes. All that I know of. Now go!”

With that, Ceredon sped off, chasing after the stampeding humans on foot. Aully could do nothing but gape as she watched him run headlong for the towering beast.

“You two, get in line!” the odd redhead shouted. “If you have magic, use it!”

“Turock, they might be elves, but they’re children,” one of the other spellcasters added.

“I know.”

Aully’s head slowly turned, and she saw Turock, the redhead, frowning at her. He shook his head and faced forward, along with the other sixteen men who made up his troupe. “All you have!” he exclaimed. “Do it now!” Their arms raised, words of magic poured form their mouths.

Hands wrapped around Aully’s waist, pulling her away just before she was struck by the jagged stream of lightning that leapt from the hands of the man closest to her. Kindren wheeled her around, staring at her intensely. His cheeks were flushed, and he blinked rapidly as if he’d just awoken from a horrible dream.

“Aully,” he said. “Aully, we can help. I know it’s frightening, but together we can be strong.”

“Together we can be strong,” she repeated. She glanced down at her hands. There was a tingling in her chest, a sensation she hadn’t felt in far too long. “Together, we can be strong.”

“We can.”

They turned about and faced the rampaging beast. Arrows bounced off its thick scales, the spellcasters’ fireballs, bolts of energy, and electric strikes dissipated against its hide, seemingly to no effect. And yet the monster’s progress was slowed as the soldiers on horseback raced past it, lashing at its legs with their swords and axes, gouging it with pikes. The beast reared up, its lashing tail thumping a trio of riders, impaling one and knocking the others off their steeds. With its underbelly exposed, the soldiers on foot hurled spears, if they had them. A couple found gaps between the large scales and dangled there like ornaments. Most of them simply bounced off.

“Damn it all, if you’re going to help, help!” shouted the man in the funny hat.

Aully and Kindren nodded to each other before raising their arms. Aully quickly turned her eyes away from Kindren’s mangled hand, not wanting to see his thumb and small finger sticking out on either side of his fist like lost lovers separated by an ocean of scars. She focused on his voice instead, on the confidence with which he spoke. Suddenly, despite the hopelessness of what they faced, Aully felt at ease. She remembered what she’d lost, what she still had. She remembered traipsing with Kindren through the desert, eating foreign foods and laughing with the locals. She thought of the times they’d met in the crypts beneath Dezerea, of Kindren’s broad smile as he spoke to her of legends and days long passed.

But most of all, she remembered what it was like to love and be loved, to live each day knowing that no matter what might happen, she would remain strong, that the strength she held inside her was not hers alone, but a gift to be shared with everyone she loved.

Aully chanted, and a raging stream of fire leapt from her hands. It was thicker than those created by the other spellcasters, even the man in green. The stream arced through the air, blazing through the monster’s horns and lashing against its face like a crashing wave. The beast dropped down on all fours and turned its head to the side, seemingly wounded. Aully heard Turock utter, “That was unexpected.”

To her left, Kindren’s winding electrical charge zapped across empty space and struck the creature in the shoulder. The massive thing shrugged it off and took a hurtling step toward the soldiers clustered in the middle of the open ground. The men shrieked and tried to retreat, tripping over one another. The monster threw back its head and opened its hinged mouth. The horns that extended in front of its maw swung out wide like an insect’s mandibles.

“It’s going to eat them!” Aully cried.

Instinctively, she reached out and grabbed Kindren’s hand, in that hurried moment not caring it was his mangled one. She slid her fingers around the stumps of his. She squeezed her eyes shut, quickly mouthing the words of a spell she had never used. She felt Kindren’s inner strength, his connection to the weave, and then her eyes snapped open. Still chanting, she watched the ground in front of the soldiers rise and fold over, the solid bedrock beneath the cliff ’s surface forming a stone shield that curled atop the fumbling men. The beast’s head came down, maw cracking against the earthen shield with a solid crunch. The mandible-like horns snapped shut, wrapping around the shield and skewering two men, but the deed had been done. With the monster dazed, if only for a second, the soldiers were given their opportunity to flee. They scattered across the rocky field in all directions.

“More!” Turock shouted. “No relenting!”

The spellcasters, along with Aully and Kindren, continued their assault. Other Dezren stepped forward, joining with the others, their magics weak. But at least they were trying. The creature dislodged itself from the earthen barricade, shook its head, and was thrown into a rage. It lashed out at the soldiers on horseback that circled it even as its hide was pummeled with magical attacks. Two men died, then four, then another six, their armor shredding as easily as their flesh beneath the monster’s claws. The blood of men filled the air.

“The spells-they aren’t strong enough!” hollered Kindren, launching a weak salvo of energy at the beast.

“I know!” Aully said.

The creature rumbled to the right, using its tusks to knock men off their horses. No more arrows fell toward it-the elves had likely exhausted their supply-and the magical attacks were pathetic. The spellcasters were growing tired. Aully herself was drained almost to the point of collapsing. Finally, when she uttered the words and flicked her fingers, nothing happened. Her magic was gone.

Now unimpeded, the demon turned about and hurtled toward them. The throng of elves behind Aully shuffled backward. Screams filled the air as a few of them backed up too far, plummeting off the edge of the cliff, their bodies crunching when they hit the rocks below. The soldiers on horses, who had been attacking the beast, turned tail and fled. The demon’s eyes were like liquid fire, growing larger by the second, radiating both hatred and hunger. Aully grabbed Kindren and turned, running toward the lip of the cliff, searching for her mother. Lady Audrianna gathered the two youths in her embrace, and all three knelt down on the uneven, rocky soil.

“Goddess above,” said Aully’s mother, “we give our lives to you, to protect and hold once we reach your side.”

“I love you all,” Aully said.

Kindren squeezed her tight. “Always and forever.”

The demon howled, sounding much too close, and though Aully didn’t want to look, she did anyway. The beast veered to the side, a rope around its neck. Aully’s eyes followed the length of the rope, which ended in the hand of brave Ceredon, standing atop a galloping horse. The elf then jumped, dangling by the rope, holding on for dear life as the demon swung its head and him along with it. The beast skidded to a halt, the hail of rock and other earthen fragments bombarding the cowering elves as its claws dug into the ground. The demon swiped at Ceredon, knocking him around like a pendulum, until the rope broke and the elf fell to the ground. Defiant, he scampered back to his feet, ripped the shortsword the human woman had given him from his belt, and hurled it at the beast. The sword ricocheted harmlessly off the creature’s snout.

“Darakken!” the elf shouted, shaking an angry fist at the beast. “You want a meal, you devour me!”

The demon reared back, its tusks retracting once more, and then a mouth filled with giant teeth lurched toward the lone, defiant elf.

Aully tore away from Kindren and ran, knowing she would never get there in time, knowing there was nothing she could do even if she did. Kindren tackled her from behind.

“Ceredon, no!” she screamed.

Ceredon dropped to his knees, his head back as the demon’s maw rapidly descended on him. He couldn’t help but smile. It hadn’t mattered what anyone had done, how brave any of the soldiers had been in defending their lives. It didn’t matter how much magic they threw at the beast, how many arrows plinked against its hide. In the end, it was Boris Marchant’s version of the story of how the evil thing was defeated before that told him all he needed to know. Because of that, he finally understood the true meaning behind the words Celestia had whispered to him in Dezerea. Become the mountain.

A mountain is resilient. A mountain stands unmoving and accepts whatever abuse nature brings upon it without complaint. A mountain offers up its surface as a sacrifice for all the creatures that call it home.

The descent of Darakken ceased.

The ground rumbled beneath Ceredon’s knees, shaking him to the core, but he didn’t move. He kept his gaze up, staring at the ancient demon as its fiery red eyes widened. It huffed, casting down a gust of breath that reeked of smoke and rotten meat. The thing then reared up on its hind legs, pawing at its chest.

Ceredon looked on in astonishment as the ground rose up around the beast, swallowing its hooves, its reverse-jointed knees. The earth rumbled once more, and Ceredon finally scurried backward as lances of stone burst from the ground, pointed tips driving into the demon’s hide, shattering its scales, making it bleed. Demon’s blood, Ceredon thought as he put more distance between himself and the demon. Elf’s blood.

Spires continued to break out of the soil. One lanced Darakken’s shoulder. One broke through its clawed hand and exited the other side before embedding in its neck. One punctured its back, extending outward until it punched through the creature’s neck as well. The demon struggled, gurgling in pain, but only succeeded in thrusting the earthen spears deeper into its body.

Soon, at least a hundred of those granite lances locked the demon in place, bent upright. The blood continued to gush from each and every wound, but the flow slowed, the blood seeming to harden as it rolled over its scales, as if it were turning to mud, then clay, then solid granite. Its struggles diminished as well, and there was an audible creak each time a limb bent. The area beneath the demon’s scales, where its heart should have been, began to glow, and Ceredon swore he saw the darkened outline of a book in the center of the light. That light was soon covered over by a thick glob of soil-like blood that oozed from the demon’s throat.

Darakken’s scales slowly changed color, transforming from green-black and shimmering to a deep red and then to a pale shade of brown. Ceredon looked on in awe as those same scales seemed to calcify, nodules rising on them, covering them over, filling in the gaps between them. The thing was turning to stone before his eyes.

Become the mountain, indeed.

The earth swallowed the demon from the bottom up, snaking over the stone spires, congealing, becoming solid. The last thing Ceredon saw of the beast was its eye, the red now faded, as it rolled and stared down at him in both fear and hatred. Finally, that too was covered over by the upward cascade of dirt, clay, and stone.

Darakken was no more.

“That. . how did you do that?” Ceredon heard the spellcaster named Turock ask.

Ceredon stood in front of what was now a stony hillock. The thing took up much of the clearing, closing his view of the forest behind. The soldiers who had survived the demon’s assault rounded the massive obstruction, some on horseback, most on foot, limping. Rachida, a woman Ceredon had met once long ago when Karak’s First Families visited Quellasar, rode elegantly into view. He nodded to her, and she nodded back before going about taking measure of her losses. Ceredon lifted his gaze to the sky, tears welling up. He faced north, toward Celestia’s hidden star, and whispered, “Thank you.”

The deed is not yet done. Her voice was an enraged whisper on the wind. Ceredon whirled around and faced the mob of Stonewood Dezren that lingered by the cliff’s edge. All their eyes were on the heavens, their expressions of relief washing away, replaced by confusion. Even Aully, Kindren, and Lady Audrianna, who had been striding toward him, stopped and stared. Had they heard the voice as well? Was that possible?

My children have disappointed me, the goddess said, and sure enough the Dezren did hear, for many of them fell to their knees, breathing in panicked breaths. You were blessed with lives longer than any other mortal beings, and yet those lives were squandered by hatred and war. Beauty was handed to you, and yet it was not enough. All you had was bartered to a childish god, for greed, for fleeting power and shallow pride. Such immaturity, such ugliness. I have stood aside and allowed you to err, but no longer. Your sins shall not be tolerated.

The elves surged forward, their pleading voices rising to the heavens, while the humans stood around and gawked at the scene, confused. Ceredon lowered his eyes and saw one elf standing out among the rest. For a moment, Ceredon was taken aback-the elf looked like a thinner, younger version of Cleotis Meln. The elf raised his hands to the sky.

“You owe us!” he shouted. “It was you who turned your back on us!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Ceredon saw Aully glaring at the elf, her hands curled into fists.

The wind blew silently for a moment before Celestia spoke once more.

You were to be the wardens of humanity. Her voice came from all around, on the wind and in the stillness between, and it was laced with fury. And when your leaders refused, I accepted your choice. I let you be, with two simple doctrines: Protect the beauty of this world, and remain impartial in the affairs of man. Both have been broken, and those who have broken them, in all the lands you call home, shall be punished. No longer will you know beauty. No longer will your lives be long. You will only know an undying hunger, an empty pit in your souls where my love once resided. You will always remember all that you once had, and the knowledge that it is no longer yours will drive you mad.

Some of the gathered elves began weeping. Others shouted angry decrees at the heavens. Ceredon pivoted on his feet and walked toward Aullienna, gathering the young princess in his arms, holding her head to his chest. Kindren was soon there as well, followed by Aully’s mother. The four of them stood there amid the lament and anger, holding each other silently.

Vile children of mine, I revoke my love. Take my curse instead.

The land filled with the screams of a thousand voices. Ceredon, Aully, Kindren, and Lady Audrianna separated, looking all around them. One out of every two elves had dropped to the ground, where all of them writhed in pain. Among them was the elf who looked so much like Cleotis Meln. Their bodies contorted, their teeth bared. It looked as if there was another entity beneath their flesh, fighting to get out. Ceredon backed away from them, toward the hillock that had once been a demon, dragging the three frightened Dezren with him.

“Celestia, what is this?” he whispered.

He looked to the sky and saw a dark cloud approaching. It moved faster than any cloud he had ever seen before, churning and bulging, growing bigger and bigger on the horizon. He dragged Aully and the others a few steps onto the hill, keeping his eyes up, and as it drew nearer, he realized that what he saw was hundreds of winged horses, flying in formation, descending as they approached.

You faithful few, accept my sanctuary.

“Aully!” he shouted. “Kindren, Lady Audrianna, all of you who haven’t fallen, come!”

Ceredon raced up the rocky side of the steep hillock, the others on his heels. The winged horses were so close now that he could see the mist from their noses when they exhaled. He continued to climb, stumbling over loose stones, holding tight to Aully’s hand just in case she fell. The first of the horses broke away from the rest, sailing over his head, soaring toward the other side of the knoll, and pivoting in midair. It was a she, and she landed on the broad, flat surface at the top of the hillock, whinnying and snorting and kicking her hooves. Another of the winged horses landed just behind her.

Ceredon raced for the mare, dragging Aully behind him. The horse bent her front legs, lowering herself so they could climb on her back.

“Two on each horse!” he shouted to the throng of elves as they crested the hillock’s short peak. More and more winged horses landed while the rest circled up above, waiting for space atop the narrow crest. Ceredon helped Aully onto the horse’s back and then climbed on in front of her. “Hold on to me tight,” he told her. He glanced over at Kindren, who was helping Lady Audrianna climb atop another of the majestic, winged beasts. The boy prince looked at him, and he dipped his head. “She will be safe,” Ceredon told him.

Their horse rose to her feet and galloped along the ridge. Then, she took to the air, her massive wings flapping. Wind blew through Ceredon’s hair; Aully’s arms squeezed his waist. The horse banked low and to the side, turning toward the east, and when she did so, Ceredon gaped in both horror and wonder at the scene down below. Elf by elf, winged horse by winged horse, the Dezren took to the sky behind him. The human soldiers had tried to scamper up the side of the hillock, but it was too steep, and they were slow, weighed down by their armor. The cursed elves had risen. Their skin was gray, their faces hideous, and they attacked the humans with a sort of bloodlust that made Ceredon’s skin crawl. Men screamed, swords clashed, blood spilled. Once more violence had come to Dezrel.

The winged horse pitched back to level out, and thankfully Ceredon could no longer see what was happening below. Soon, even the sound of the clash faded away as they soared higher and higher, rising above Stonewood Forest and the demolished city within the trees. He took in all he saw, and though the wind was freezing this high up, he barely felt it, for what filled his vision was beautiful.

“Where’s Kindren?” Aully shouted, still pressed against his back.

“Right behind us,” Ceredon called out over his shoulder. “With your mother.”

“And where are we going?”

“Home.” He couldn’t say where they’d find it, but he knew that’s where they were going.