Stranger of Tempest: Book One of The God Fragments (33 page)

‘Can’t take the horses down, best we get as many miles out of their legs as we can.’

There were no cut stones visible, but Lynx realised it was also too regular to be natural. This hadn’t been built but mage-carved, the very rock manipulated into shape. He tried to see inside, but there was a veil of darkness hiding the interior and he couldn’t even tell how deep it went. If it was an entrance to Shadows Deep it might lead a mile down or just a few dozen yards, he supposed.

‘Those of you who carry earthers, time to load ’em,’ Toil added.

Anatin looked around. ‘Why?’

She gestured to the stretches of bare rock. ‘Troll country. Icers won’t do much against a stone elemental, ’cept piss it off.’

Lynx glanced down at his cartridge case. Even with the additional ammo Payl had supplied, he didn’t have any earth-bolts.

‘How about burners?’

Toil shot him a sceptical look. ‘Better than harsh language I guess.’

Behind them the scouts were back, trailing far enough behind to dissuade Teshen and Kas from lying in wait, but keeping an eye on the group still. Occasionally, Lynx had thought he’d glimpsed a larger party as they crested some patch of high ground, but the broken terrain and tree cover made it impossible to be sure of numbers. It wasn’t a large force – there would be more signs – but not so small that Anatin would want to throw away what lead they had and attempt an ambush.

A sudden creak of stone echoed out from somewhere ahead. Lynx felt his hand tighten instinctively, but then astonishment seemed to drain the strength from his arms and he could do nothing but watch open-mouthed.

‘Hold fire,’ Toil warned instinctively, but Lynx saw no one even remember to raise their guns as they watched.

A massive shape rose up from the rock beds fifty yards off, amorphous and bulky, the rock peeling away in great chunks that tilted and turned towards the sky. Then limbs became visible, perhaps an arm span in width and four in length. A blockish body connected them, its shape dictated by strata more than anything natural, but there was no head or face visible – only pale streaks of stone running across the top.

The great grey elemental eased itself up, rising with ponderous grace until it was poised on four limbs, the forelimbs almost twice the size of the hindlimbs – assuming it was facing them, Lynx realised. As with the night elemental, the troll had nothing of the natural about it and the body and limbs seemed misshapen and haphazardly constructed.

‘It’s like a spirit,’ he breathed in a moment of realisation. ‘It just moves through the rock, using whatever stone’s at hand for a body.’

Toil gave him a curious look. ‘Well done,’ she said after a moment. ‘You’re right, so if it turns on us, don’t no one run for the tunnel entrance. It’s all rock down there.’

‘Are we in danger?’ Anatin asked in a tight voice.

‘Not so long as we don’t disturb it. We don’t mean anything to it.’

The troll lifted one great limb and seemed to turn their way, bringing the stub of stone down in an earth-shaking crash. Uncertain what was happening, the horses all whinnied and circled as the riders kept a tight rein.

The angled slab of body twisted left and right with the juddering grind of stone, but made no further move towards them and turned around to start moving across a thin strip of earth.

‘It can sense Sitain.’ Toil laughed suddenly. ‘The magic inside her.’

‘And it doesn’t mind?’ Kas asked in a muted voice.

‘Why should it? Like a horse scenting a cow, it knows broadly what she is and doesn’t give a damn. They don’t prey on each other or protect their territory. They’re elemental forces, not animals.’

A distinctive crack echoed in the distance and the mercenaries ducked almost as one. They looked around then a white streak cut through the afternoon air, followed by a second crack rolling out in its wake.

‘Oh screaming hells,’ Toil gasped, turning in her saddle.

Lynx blinked. ‘What—’

In the next moment he realised what; the streaks of white were not directed at them, but the troll. The elemental paused and tilted itself more upright as though catching a scent on the wind. Lynx looked back and saw the Charneler scouts had ridden closer, near the edge of icer range, but they weren’t trying to hit a man-sized target now. A third shot dropped short, but just as the report came a fourth plinked against the stone hide of the troll. A low rumble seemed to echo out from the stone elemental.

Lynx looked around for an escape route. That wasn’t a roar of pain from the troll – the scouts were shooting from the best part of a thousand yards – but he had a sense of anger from it that was increased when he saw the panic on Sitain’s face.

‘Fall back,’ Toil shouted. ‘Split up!’

They didn’t need encouraging as the troll hunched down and another icy trail darted past. The horses were only too happy to oblige, but before anyone could run far the rumbling suddenly increased in power. The elemental reared up as far as it could on its hind legs then smashed back down into the ground. Great chunks of stone and earth exploded up as the troll hammered its body down so hard it seemed to shatter itself against the ground.

It’s an elemental spirit
, Lynx reminded himself as the split shards of stone tore the earth and broken boulders thumped against each other as they tumbled apart. He hauled his horse back and turned it, fighting with the reins until he had it under control again. A grind and shudder came from underfoot but it moved away faster than a horse could sprint, and his eyes were drawn inexorably towards the faint blur of the two pursuing scouts.

‘What’s happening?’ Sitain wailed, struggling with her own horse until Reft caught the reins of her spare mount and pulled it off her.

‘Think they just made a big mistake,’ Lynx breathed, unable to take his eyes off the scouts further down the plain.

He sensed Toil nudge her horse up beside his to get a better view, the woman now silent as she joined his vigil. For a while nothing happened. The scouts stopped firing with the troll gone from view and were in the process of collecting their horses when those suddenly spooked. Lynx could all too easily imagine their confusion and panic as the ground began to shake, but all he witnessed was a sudden burst of grey come up from the ground in front of the scouts. It was over in a flash, a rise and fall of movement that left a churned scar on the landscape. Beyond that, nothing remained – neither of the scouts nor their horses. The mercenaries seemed frozen to the spot at the sudden perfunctory eruption, the sound dulled by distance, and then equally sudden quiet.

‘Guess they won’t be following no more,’ Teshen commented after a long pause. The grey-eyed man shrugged and swept his hair back out of his face. ‘Two down, more to go.’

He didn’t wait for an order, just set back out on the trail. By fits and starts the rest followed until it was only Toil and Lynx left, starting back at the empty ground behind them.

‘Could’ve been us,’ Lynx said at last.

‘Nearly was,’ Toil agreed. She cocked her head at him. ‘Regretting this?’

‘Regretting a lot o’ things.’

‘Hah, don’t we all?’

‘How about you?’ Lynx said, meeting her gaze. ‘You regretting being out here in the wilds?’

Toil gave him a secretive smile. ‘Oh, I’m a city girl; don’t like to be too far from my little pleasures.’

‘But the wilds don’t scare you.’

‘Scare me? Can’t say much does.’

‘That’s a bold claim.’

She paused, her smile wavering. ‘My dad was a famous mercenary. I got taught to fight by some of the most vicious fighters around. I thought I was scared of nothing until I signed up with a relic hunter.’

‘And then?’

‘Then I found I was scared of plenty. Never was afraid of the dark until I met the dark on its own ground – saw it as a hungry, living thing.’

‘Night elemental? I saw one of those, was too surprised to be scared.’

She shook her head. ‘Not any sort of elemental, just the perfect pitch black you get deep underground. So dark you can’t see your hand in front of you, don’t know if you’re in a tunnel or a huge chamber, if there’s stone under your next footstep or nothing at all. That dark’s a living thing all by itself.’ She gave a small laugh. ‘Of course, it’s not only the dark that’ll kill you. Plenty lives inside it that’ll take a damn good swing.’

Lynx fought the urge to shiver, memories of his own time underground never too far from his thoughts. ‘You’re scared of the dark and you want us to go to Shadows Deep?’ he asked, realising he sounded more fearful and less incredulous than intended.

‘No. I
was
scared of the dark,’ she said with a small smile. ‘That deep dark. But I faced it and I lived. Since then, I don’t get scared of much. I find it works better the other way around.’

She turned her horses and set out after the others. Lynx watched her go a while longer then shook his head and followed along in silence.

The mercenaries rode into dusk until it was unsafe to continue, then went on foot for another hour to try and preserve what remained of their lead. Once the last of the light faded from the sky and the moon and Skyriver probed at a veil of cloud, they finally made camp, unable to see the path ahead and sapped by the hours of travelling. A heavy dew descended with the chill of evening, but they all knew they couldn’t risk a fire. Instead they huddled together in a hollow beneath the branches of a fat old oak, eating strips of spiced, dried beef and the few ends of bread they had remaining.

The exhausted horses were given a last meal and hobbled, one more day of travel required from them. They would be turned loose by the end of the following day, once the terrain became impassable for horses – the Knights-Charnel would probably catch and keep those worth feeding. Professional cavalry wouldn’t abandon their own horses so easily. No doubt a few would be detailed to drive them back to the relative safety of the road.

With Varain taking the first watch, the mercenaries settled down to sleep like a pack of wolves; in the dry shelter of the oak, bundled up tight against the chill and pressed up close to each other to preserve heat. Sleep was elusive at first, however, despite the fatigue they all felt. Sitain found herself staring up at the dark suggestions of boughs above her instead of succumbing to rest, her mind racing with thoughts of the stone elemental and what horrors the dawn might bring.

‘Sitain?’ Anatin said softly from further up the pile.

‘Yes?’

‘Can you weave a shadow round us? If we got maspid packs roaming the hills I’d like any cover we could get.’

‘They won’t be,’ Toil broke in, slightly muffled from the hollow she’d made for herself between Reft and Lynx. ‘They don’t go far overground and there’s no cave mouth near here.’

‘Still, any sort of cover’d help me sleep.’

‘I’ll try,’ Sitain said with a renewed sense of weariness. Just the idea of trying to work magic made her tired but Anatin was right, it might keep them a fraction safer while they slept. She looked briefly around to get her bearings and realised every pair of eyes was watching her. Even Varain, perched on a hump of fallen branch, had turned her way. His mage-gun was cradled loose in his arms, a pale sliver of moonlight running the length of its scratched steel barrel.

Sitain took a long breath and closed her eyes. She’d had little chance to practise control over her magic, but every night since escaping the Charnelers she’d tried something small. Just a modest drawing out of the tingle from her bones, no larger working than that, but with every day had come a greater familiarity.

The dark flicker at the corner of her eyes that was a part of her –
had
been a part of her for four or five years now – intensified. It was less effort to tease the magic out now and Sitain coaxed it gently forward with just a thought.

In moments she sensed a faint darkening around her and knew that if she looked up those watching eyes would now be dimmed. There was mutter from someone, Ashis or Kas, sounding uncomfortable at what they were seeing, but there was no word of complaint and Sitain took a moment to let the shadows settle in the air above them. It would be all too easy to let the darkness drop like a blanket over them, but that might prove disastrous and send them all to sleep past dawn.

Just as she thought she had the shadows settled a great roar split the sky, rolling like thunder across the quiet night. Sitain flinched and lost her grip on the magic. It seemed to dart away from her grasp like smoke on the wind.

‘Gods, what was that?’ Anatin muttered, sitting up.

‘Nothing good,’ replied Toil, already reaching for her gun.

The others followed suit and Sitain felt a moment of panic until she remembered where she’d put her pistol. She flapped around in the dark until she found the holster wrapped in its own belt and yanked it free. A straight blockish steel tube set in a wooden stock, there was nothing elegant about the weapon. Jutting out the back, just above the grip, was the breech housing. With cold fingers Sitain lifted the catch lever and worked the breech open. It was an old gun and not as quick to load as some of the others, but she’d been promised it was reliable. She pulled a cartridge, checked its symbol, and slid that into the breech. Slipping the breech and catch closed in one movement, she thumbed the hammer back until it clicked into place then froze, waiting for whatever came next.

The moment stretched out, a dozen heartbeats or more, before a second roar cut the night. Deep and bestial, she felt the force of it in her gut and knew this was no lion or bear hunting in the wilds. It was something far larger and as a flash of light burst out from behind a line of trees, she realised her fears were correct.

‘What’s that?’ Ashis hissed, trying to keep the fear from her voice as she searched around in the darkness.

‘Where?’ asked Teshen, who’d been looking the other way.

‘Over there,’ Toil said, still calm. ‘A light past those trees, mebbe a hundred yards.’

‘I don’t see—’ The words died in his throat as a second, brighter, burst of light flared through the crooked limbs of the trees. This time there was a sound with it, a great rush and crackle that sounded like a forest fire bursting to life. ‘Shattered gods, a firedrake?’