Firestorm (The Sword of Light Trilogy Book 2) (9 page)

This nightmare could have only one source.

Terrified, they held each other and waited for the world to end.

With a sound like air being sucked from the room, the shaking ceased. But the groans continued, the buildings around them straining beneath their own weight. The cracks in the wall widened, spreading around the courtyard.

The priest reappeared in the doorway. “You must get out of here, now. The temple, the tower, it won’t survive another one.”

Eric and Inken swept up their belongings and sprinted for the doorway. They ducked into the corridor after the priest, desperate to make the street outside. Dust trickled from the ceiling and tiny pebbles bounced onto the cobbled floor. A mosaic of spider webbed factures criss-crossed the walls. The old man moved quickly now, fear adding speed to his limp. The clack clacking of his staff echoed loudly in the dark corridor.

As they emerged into the street they were greeted by the blood red light of sunset. Eric turned to Inken. “It’s him. Thomas, the demon, whatever it is. I could feel the magic in the air, like Antonia’s, but
tainted
¸ dark.”

“The demon?” Inken pressed her hand to his chest. They both remembered all too well what had happened the last time they’d met it. “It’s here?”

Eric nodded, his hand clutched around his sword. “Yes, or close. That was no natural earthquake. Its power, it could only have been caused by God magic.”

Inken knelt and strung her bow. “We have to find the others,” straightening, she looked down the street.

Pandemonium had engulfed the city around them. People poured from the surrounding buildings, mingling on the road in horror and confusion. Nearby several buildings had collapsed, sending bricks tumbling into the street. Eric glimpsed an arm amidst the rubble and quickly looked away.

But there was no avoiding the chaos. Everywhere he looked, people stumbled through the broken bricks and mortar, dust coating their clothing as they pleaded for help. Others had already begun to pick their way through the debris, pulling survivors from the broken buildings.

Closing his eyes, Eric struggled to think. The desperate cries of the villagers assailed him, begging for help. Swallowing his guilt, he closed his heart to them. They could not stop to help these people; they had to find Enala, had to get her to safety. They did not have the power to stop the demon – with Antonia’s power, only Jurrien stood a chance against it.

“The inn is this way,” Inken started to pick her way through the rubble, glancing back at Eric.

Eric nodded and they began to run. His mind raced and the world seemed to slow. As they dodged through the wreckage, he glimpsed the horror on the faces of the villagers, the blood streaming down their faces, heard the boom as another building crumpled.

How did the demon find us?
The question raced through his mind. Or was it just here by coincidence?

Either way, Enala was in grave danger. They had to find her, now.

Together they leaped over the broken bricks in the street and ducked beneath shattered walls. People ran in every direction, hindering their headlong rush through the city.

Another rumble came from the distance but they did not stop. Shoulders tensed with expectation, they ran on.

A sharp crack came from ahead. Eric glanced up and saw a wave rippling through the very earth, tearing the bricked road to pieces as it rolled towards them. The street rose up beneath them and tossed them from their feet. Nearby buildings seemed to crumble at the seams as the earth shook them to pieces.

A sharp crack came from behind them. Eric looked behind in time to see the tower of the temple topple into the street. Metal shrieked on stone as the bell struck the ground. Dust billowed out in all directions, spilling into the surrounding streets.

Eric coughed, holding his shirt across his face. But the quake had passed, and he struggled to his feet.

Dark laughter echoed from the crumpled buildings. Eric spun, eyes searching the clouds of dust, seeking the source. But the sound seemed to come from all around, chasing the people through the ruins of the city, bringing fresh terror to the populace.

Ice slid through Eric’s veins. He looked across as Inken grabbed his hand.

“
Run!
”

“I’m glad you came,” Caelin slapped Michael’s back as he joined him at the bar.

Michael grinned. “Didn’t think you could handle all these young folk without me?” he slid a draft of ale across to the soldier with a laugh.

Caelin shook his head. He would never admit it, but there was some truth to Michael’s words. “No, no, I just figured we would need a doctor around if I’m going to continue beating them every day.”

Michael took a swig from his mug. “You’re pressing them hard.”

The mood turned sombre. “Ay, I am. Enala is tough, far tougher than I expected. And Eric has his magic. But we have seen ourselves that neither is always enough. They need to be prepared for anything. I won’t always be there to protect them.”

“You’re a good man, Caelin. So long as we have men like you around to fight the good fight, men like me will continue to hope.”

Caelin grimaced. “You sell yourself short, Michael. If not for your skill, Eric would have bled to death on that beach before Antonia had any hope of healing him. And it was your quick thinking that got us to Lon in the first place,” he paused. “How are you, now… you know, with Antonia gone?”

Michael shrugged, face hidden in his mug. “I cannot believe she is gone, not for good. Once Jurrien destroys that demon, he will free her from the
Soul Blade
and restore her to life. I have faith things will work out.”

Shaking his head, Caelin glanced at the older man. “I am glad we have you, Michael. For myself, I’m finding it harder and harder to hold out hope. Enala is strong, but can she truly wield the Sword? And without Antonia, will that even matter?” he swallowed another mouthful of the cool ale. “But as you say, we must have faith. Jurrien will come through.”

“He will. And I am glad I came too. I don’t know if I could have stayed in Lon, not knowing your fates. Thank you for convincing me.”

Caelin gave him another slap on the back. “My pleasure,” as he stood a rumble came from the floor.

Then the ground began to shake.

Caelin stumbled as cracks spread through the wooden floor boards. Struggling to keep his feet, he grabbed for the bar as Michael toppled from his stool. The other patrons screamed, lurching from their tables towards the doorway. Burning lanterns fell from their brackets and shattered on the floor.

Instinct screamed for Caelin to follow the townsfolk outside, but Gabriel and Enala were asleep upstairs. If the building went up in flames, they would be trapped, and their quest would all be for naught.

As the shaking subsided he turned to the nearest lantern, where oily flames were already licking at the varnished wood. Pulling off his cloak he beat at the flames, attempting to smother them.

“Michael, get the others! We have to get out of this building,” he cried.

Michael pulled himself to his feet and raced for the stairs.

The flames caught at Caelin’s cloak and heat washed over his face. He tossed it to the ground, spinning in search of a better weapon against the fire.  A whoosh came from across the room as the blaze raced up the curtains. Then the bartender was there, dousing it with a bucket of water.

Caelin looked across the counter and glimpsed a barrel of water sitting at the back. Grabbing a bucket from beside the door, he raced to join the bartender. Water hissed as it struck the flames. Steam and smoke billowed across the room, but within a few minutes they had the blaze under control.

Michael appeared at the top of the stairwell leading Gabriel and Enala. They carried a bag over each shoulder and their swords strapped at their waists. Each wore a grim expression of terror.

“This cannot be coincidence,” Michael’s coughed through the smoke. “This has to be Earth magic. The demon has found us.”

“How?” Gabriel asked. “No one but Jurrien and his priests knew we were travelling up the river. Could it not just have been an earthquake, no more than that?”

“Either way, we had better get out of this building,” Enala observed. “I’ve never felt one like that, but we used to have earthquakes in Chole. There are usually aftershocks. Every so often buildings would collapse, so it’s best to move outside while you have the chance.”

Caelin nodded. “Okay, let’s get out of here,” he moved for the door. The innkeeper, satisfied his property was at least safe from the flames, had already fled.

Moving through the swinging doors, Caelin found the streets outside the inn empty. He looked around, surprised, and glimpsed the innkeeper disappearing round the corner at the top of the hill. The others followed him outside as he turned to look downhill towards the port.

He took a step backwards, fear sending a chill right down to his toes.

A dark forest now blocked the road, their black trunks towering above the buildings. Vines wrapped around the trees and slivered like snakes through the branches. The grey leaves whistled with the wind, dagger-like twigs stretching out towards them. Thorns stabbed from every surface of the vegetation. Not a hint of life came from the dark forest.

Caelin saw the trees were marked by faces, their mouths open, twisted in pain. He watched as new vegetation sprang from the ground, advancing the forest towards them. He shuddered, dread gripping his very soul. There was no mistaking what they faced now.

The demon had arrived.

“We need to get to the ship,” Michael whispered beside him.

“I know. That’s in our way,” he nodded towards the dark forest.

“Then we cut our way through,” Gabriel insisted.

“No,” Caelin glanced around, “nothing that goes in there is coming out alive.”

“Can we go around then?”

“I doubt it,” Enala’s face had paled, but she remained resolute. “The demon cannot know exactly where we are, or we’d be dead already. It is just making sure we can’t get to the river.”

The rumbling came again, followed by a second quake. This time the earth itself rippled. The power of its movement knocked them from their feet. They crouched on the bricked road, eyes squeezed shut, and endured.

When the shaking stopped, little remained of the buildings around them. Fortunately, the buildings in this area of Sitton had been made of wood, so most had collapsed inwards on themselves rather than toppling into the street. But flames were already taking light in the ruins, the smouldering remains of fireplaces and lanterns catching amidst the fresh kindling. Smoke drifted in the air.

Then the laughter began; a bleak, evil sound that sucked the hope from their souls and the strength from their limbs. It echoed around the city, bouncing from the ruins to encircle them.

“Come on, we have to try,” Caelin fought against the laughter’s pull, hauling himself to his feet.

The others stood with him.

“Where do we –?” the crackle of thunder interrupted Gabriel.

They turned together to look at the forest. A bolt of lightning fell from the sky, disappearing somewhere amidst the blackened trees and leaving a white streak in Caelin’s vision. He stared, breath held, waiting.

“Eric?” Michael whispered.

*************

The laughter chased them through the crumbling streets, haunting their footsteps like the ghosts of the past, driving them on. Eric felt a pain in his chest, an icy fist clenching hard around where the
Soul Blade
had pierced him. It grew stronger as they approached the inn.

When they turned the final corner they slammed to a halt, shocked to find a murky forest stretching across their path. Faces of terror stared out from the trunks of the trees, red eyes alive with pain. Thorny vines waved at them, reaching out,
alive
, searching for prey. The forest itself stood dead, no birds or animals in sight, a perverted mirror of the temple courtyard.

“The inn is on the other side, I think,” Inken murmured. “What do we do?”

“Not far now,” Eric whispered back, already moving, instinct taking over.

He reached out with his magic, summoning the power of a distant storm cloud. Thunder crashed and lightning flashed from the sky to strike his outstretched arm. A blue arc of energy took shape in his hand. With a scream of rage, he pointed it at the forest.

Blue fire leapt from his fingers, burning its way through the dark apparitions. A strange, eerie scream sounded as the lightning touched the trees. The red vanished from the haunted eyes as the electric glow bathed them, and the vines curled back to wither and die. In seconds he had burnt a path through the evil forest.

Eric grabbed Inken’s hand. “Let’s go!”

They sprinted down the path as the lightning continued to burn its way closer to the inn. Vines and branches reached for them, thorny fingers grasping at their hair and clothes. Inken drew her sword and struck back without breaking stride, wild swings keeping the dark limbs at bay. A few seconds later they burst through the other side of the forest, into the last light of the dying sun.

Except burning buildings now lit the city streets. By their light they saw their four companions, eyes wide, mouths open in astonishment. Inken and Eric raced towards them, eager to put distance between themselves and the twisted trees.

“About time you two showed up,” Caelin wore an anxious smile. “We were getting worried.”

“Sorry, we didn’t expect company here in Sitton. The demon is coming; we have to go. We can’t fight it.”

“Agreed,” Caelin pointed behind them. “Think you can blast your way back out, Eric?”

Eric turned, cursing to see the path had already closed.

“Stay back,” he moved closer to the forest, gathering more lightning to him. The air crackled as the power danced in his hands, raising hairs on his arms. Pointing his finger, he unleashed the pent up force. The trees of the forest again gave way, burnt to ash.

They moved quickly, shepparding Enala between them, Caelin bringing up the rear. They struck at the vines with their blades, ducking through the tangled assault. Only Michael was unarmed, although Eric had yet to draw his blade. Lightning crackled in his palm; that was all he needed.

Halfway through the trees, a scream came from behind Eric. He spun, hand raised to strike, but a vine shot from the thicket and wrapped itself about his wrist. He gasped as thorns bit deep into his skin. Before he could react the vine gave jolt, and began to drag him towards the darkness beneath the trees. In horror he glimpsed one of the faces in the trees waiting for him, its eyes now warped with hunger, the dark mouth opening wide to reveal its twisted teeth.

He fought against the vines pull, digging in his heels as he searched for help. But the others were also trapped, engulfed in a fury of whirling green. Two vines wrapped about Enala, dragging her towards the thicket as Inken struggled to cut herself free and reach the younger girl. Only Caelin held his own, his sword a far more dangerous viper than those assailing him.

Eric gritted his teeth. He could not use the lightning to aid his friends in fear of hurting them, but he could free himself. Blood gushed down his arm where the thorns pierced him and the gaping mouth was growing steadily closer, but he had no intention of feeding it. As another vine shot towards him, he closed his eyes and willed the lightning outwards. A flash of blue light burned through his eyelids to the crash of thunder.

Opening his eyes, he found nothing but scorched earth and ash. Nodding in satisfaction, he drew Alastair’s blade and leapt to Enala’s aid. The sword flicked out, slicing through the vine holding her sword arm. Free again to swing her weapon, Enala sliced away her other bindings and leapt back to the safety of the path. The others joined them, staring out at the writhing wall of vegetation.

“What now?” Michael shouted.

“Now, the game is over,” a rasping voice came from the shadows.

A figure stepped into the light, black cloak billowing about him as the vines drew back. He held a sword clenched in one hand, a dark green glow seeping from the blade like blood. Beneath his cloak Eric glimpsed the pommel of a second sword. A pale hand reached up to pull back the hood, revealing the face of the old King Thomas. His demon black eyes stared across at them, their empty horror sending a chill to Eric’s stomach.

Thomas, the demon, whatever he was now, began to laugh. “You did not think you could really escape, did you? That I would not find you? Archon’s minions are everywhere, his dark tendrils seeping into the minds of your people. Without the God’s to protect you, there is nowhere in the Three Nations you can hide,
Enala
.”

A chill swept through Eric as the demon spoke Enala’s name.
How does he know her?
A memory rose, just out of reach, and then faded into the darkness.

Caelin stepped forward, waving them back. “Run, get Enala out of here. I will try to hold it,” he turned to the demon. “You will not have her,
demon
.”

The demon laughed, Thomas’ face twisting beyond recognition. “You think you can stop me,
mortal
? You think I could not kill any one of you in an instant?” it twirled the
Soul Blade
. “I do not even need Antonia’s’ magic, you are all helpless before my power.”