The Elder Blood Chronicles Bk 1 In Shades of Grey (50 page)

“See the one in the back, without a uniform?
said Finn. That’s a Soul Reaver. Keep an eye on him. I’m not sure
which circle he is, but he is either a Blade Master or a Shaman. If
he is a Blade Master we don’t have a prayer. This many men will be
tough as it is. If he is a Shaman, he can pull your soul straight
out of your body without effort. For now, just keep yourself
shielded, don’t let the shield drop for a moment. Rivasans use
Hellfire and a lot of it,” he spoke the words quickly and kept an
eye on the Rivasan lord as he hissed them to her. Taking another
long drag from his cigarette, he stepped away from Jala and Marrow
and moved out into open ground.

“You can’t possibly mean to pursue this!”
Wisp exclaimed, apparently realizing it was going to come to blood.
“Do you have any idea what my father will do to your lands,
Rivasa?” She glared defiantly at the Lord.

“Most likely nothing. He will simply pay your
ransom. Considering that you were taken on my lands,” Dendric
replied with a cold smile. “Drop your weapons and surrender, Finn,
you don’t have a chance here, and you know it. Set down the swords
and I’ll make it quick and painless. Fight me and I’ll leave you
alive to watch my guards have a turn with your kitten.”

“The bloody hell they will, you bastard,”
Jala growled.

“The bloody hell you will,” Finn agreed and
drew his blades. He stood defiantly before them, his shoulders set
and his eyes intent. “I will not surrender. Might as well get on
with it.” His voice was a low growl filled with threat.

“Finn, they have you twenty to one.” Wisp’s
voice was filled with pleading.

“Twenty to two if you draw that bow, Wisp.
I’m not backing down, you know me better than that.” Finn began his
advance toward the horseman. Slow and cautious at first as he
gauged his opponents and chose his first target.

“Kill him. Keep the girls alive,” Dendric
said in an almost lazy voice and rode back to wait, apparently not
inclined to face Finn himself. His gaze fell on the Soul Reaver who
sat motionless on his horse watching the encounter. “You heard me,
kill him,” he snapped.

The Soul Reaver regarded him with pale, near
colorless eyes and raised a white eyebrow. He was a colorless form
among the bright yellow and orange of the Rivasans, standing out
like a snow drift in a spring garden. His expression was neutral
and if he had any intention of acting, Jala saw no signs of it.
Still, she kept her gaze fixed on the Soul Reaver as Finn had told
her to. Her shields were up and solid, giving her the safety to
watch and not worry about the other soldiers. She found herself
marveling at the man’s complete lack of pigment. His skin was as
pale as snow, with hair that seemed even whiter, and his features
were well made. But the sheer strangeness of his presence made him
seem not quite human.

“You hired me to collect his soul once he was
dead, not to kill him. If you cannot win this fight with these odds
you do not deserve the victory,” the Soul Reaver spoke in a calm,
polite voice that seemed wholly out of place in this chaos.

Upon hearing the words, she turned her
attention back to the fight. Knowing he wouldn’t move, freed her to
watch over her friends. Wisp had drawn her bow and was working hard
to stay out of range of the swordsmen, as she fired as many arrows
as she could manage during her retreat. If any arrows had found
their marks yet, Jala saw no sign. It was likely that the soldiers
wore wards of protection that would need to be dispelled before
Wisp’s arrows would find a mark. Jala ground her teeth in
frustration. The greater dispelling was a spell Sovann had taught
her, but it required vast concentration. It would, of course, also
destroy her shield and most likely her armor which was
enchanted.

Scanning the field, she located Finn standing
in the center of four swordsmen and from the look of it was
spending his strength defending and not attacking. Jala bit her
lips and maintained the shield as he had instructed, wishing there
was some way she could help. Finn delivered one of his typical
flurries to the closest swordsman but had to pull back to parry two
more before he could land a solid blow. There were simply too many
on him. While none of the soldiers had managed to get through
Finn’s defense, it was only a matter of time before it happened. He
would tire before twenty men.

“Help him, Marrow, get one of them off Finn
and give him room,” she said quietly. As if he had simply been
waiting for the word, Marrow sprang forward savagely. His jump
carried him into the closest man’s back. The Bendazzi bore him down
with little effort and raked with ruthless efficiency at the man’s
back and stomach. The Rivasan’s screams tore through the air, and
Jala steeled herself against them. She refused to feel pity for
anyone that would follow Dendric’s orders. Finn seized the
opportunity as soon as it presented itself. He whirled to his
right, plunging a blade into one of the soldiers who was foolish
enough to pause at the Bendazzi’s appearance.

A blossom of flame drew her attention back to
Wisp, and she watched the Fae barely dodge the burst of blue fire
that flowed past her. Hellfire, Jala realized. Sovann had spoken of
it but she had never seen it before. It was far beyond natural
fire, burning at temperatures that could melt any armor. Intent on
avoiding the fire, Wisp nearly ran into a circling horseman. With a
cry of alarm, the Fae dodged under the horse and sprinted trying to
get as much distance as she could. Jala watched in mute horror as
the rider of the horse spurred the beast after the tiny Fae.
Without really thinking, she dropped the shield and summoned her
magic. She couldn’t simply stand here shielded and watch Wisp get
rode down. With a grunt of effort, she wove the simplest offensive
spell Sovann had taught her at the rider. The blast of wind hit
solidly and knocked both horse and rider to the ground in a bone
breaking tumble.

A shriek came from near Finn, and she prayed
it was one of the Rivasan’s but didn’t spare the time to look. The
other riders had noticed her join the fray, and two were riding
toward her. She could get her shields back up in time if she
started now, but that would leave Wisp alone once more. Jala ground
her teeth and motioned the Fae to her as she leveled another spell
at the closest rider. She didn’t know enough about the Rivasan’s to
know what magics were most effective against them, but fire was
definitely off the list. There were limits as well to what she had
learned from Sovann in the way of combat magic. His magic was more
of a practical nature. Her gaze flicked to the fallen horseman and
she gave a sigh. That one seemed to have worked well enough she
decided. Focusing herself completely, she hurled a wall of solid
air at the approaching soldiers and smiled in satisfaction as the
wind hurled them back. It didn’t have as much effect as she had
hoped, but for now, they were out of the fight.

Wisp reached her side breathless and pressed
her back solid against Jala’s. “Thank you,” she gasped and Jala
felt the Fae’s shoulders tighten as she raised her bow once
more.

“Don’t mention it,” Jala replied, turning her
attention to the Rivasan Lord who was watching the battle with an
annoyed look on his face. Apparently he had expected them to be
dead by now. Her gaze flicked over his clothing and jewels
searching for any wards he might be wearing. Seeing nothing
obvious, she considered the options quickly. It was doubtful that
wind would work effectively on him, considering the two riders she
knocked back were already rising, and the lord was sure to be
stronger.

“Only seventeen left, no problems here,” Wisp
mumbled behind her and Jala wasn’t sure if the Fae had been
speaking to her or not. She flicked a glance back to Finn to see he
had dropped one of the swordsmen though another had quickly taken
his comrade’s place. “They have protections up against my arrows.
Any chance you can dispel that?”

“I can try,” Jala offered and set herself on
that spell instead. The dispelling would, of course, leave her
standing completely naked in enemy territory, but if Wisp managed
to sink an arrow in the Lord’s eye, the end result was worth it.
She let the magic wash over her and tried to ignore the sounds of
combat around her. A major dispelling of this nature was more
complicated, and she couldn’t allow herself to worry for Marrow or
Finn. She was halfway through it when she heard Finn curse
loudly.

“Oh, shit,” Wisp exclaimed, her voice rising
to a near screech. Jala kept her eyes closed and focused refusing
to let her concentration break this close to completion. A gust of
hot air brushed across her cheek and abruptly the world went dark.
Smoke filled her nostrils thick with the smell of charred flesh.
The spell failed completely; her focus destroyed by the smell. Her
eyes flashed open, and she stared in mute astonishment at the
bronze scaled back shielding her. She stood in shadows and looked
up numbly to stare at the bronze wing stretched over them like a
canopy. Her jaw dropped as her mind suddenly realized what it was
seeing. A dragon had saved them from hellfire, and the smell of
burning flesh rose in waves from the creature. Almost causing her
to wretch. Jala fought back her puzzlement. Now was not the time to
contemplate why a dragon was being burned by fire despite all of
the stories that said they were immune.

Build a stable fire now, behind your
enemies. NOW!
A voice commanded in her mind, and it only
registered after she was casting the spell, that it was Havoc’s
voice and not Marrow’s. She released the spell and a bonfire the
size of one of the mounted riders sprung to life behind them. Her
breath caught in her throat as the first of the black horses
emerged from the flames at a dead run. Havoc sat astride it, his
swords bared and flashing toward the closest Rivasan. The soldier
recognized the threat too late and fell to the ground, his neck
nearly severed. She heard the dragon give a savage growl, and it
lunged awkwardly at a passing rider. Its movements seemed sluggish,
and it couldn’t seem to rise fully to its feet. Jala struggled to
get a look around it, to catch some sign of Finn but there was no
way of seeing past the bronze scales.

“Is Finn alright, do you know where he is?”
she asked Wisp frantically. She couldn’t hear the swords ringing
anymore and was afraid he had fallen while her eyes had been
closed.

Wisp looked at her in disbelief and motioned
at the dragon. “That is Finn, and no he isn’t all right,” she
replied, her voice nearly hysterical. Leaving Jala to sort it out,
the Fae notched another arrow and fired at a passing soldier. Jala
shook herself from the daze Wisp’s words had left her in, and
returned her full attention to the fight, throwing spells when she
could get a clear target. Briefly, she caught the glimpse of
Avalanche and wondered for a bare second when Victory had arrived.
She hadn’t seen him join the fight. Then the moment passed and her
world once again shrank to spells and death.

She couldn’t say how long the fight had
lasted, and she was still reeling as Havoc led her away from the
dragon and Wisp. She saw the Firym give Victory a look and nod back
toward Wisp, but her mind refused to register. She kept her gaze
from traveling to the tangled bloody bodies of horse and rider and
tried instead to locate Marrow. She hadn’t seen the Bendazzi since
the beginning of the fight.

“How did you know to come?” she asked, her
voice faint.

“You were squeezing the dagger,” Havoc
explained. “It drew my attention to you. It had enchantments on it
to let me know if you needed me,” he added.

He led her back and motioned for her to sit.
She shook her head absently and looked back at the dragon now lying
full on its side in the bloodied grass. “Is that really Finn?” she
asked.

Havoc gave a silent nod, his expression grim.
“It is, he shifted to spare you the flames,” he replied.

“Is he going to be okay?” she asked, her tone
worried. His expression didn’t shift and he simply shrugged in
response. She started to head back, and he grabbed her arm.

“Wait, let Victory see what can be done. If
you go now you will just get in their way,” Havoc said, his tone
firm and his grip on her arm firmer.

She nodded slightly and pushed back a wave of
dizziness. She had used too much magic too quickly. Her reserves
were not yet built up. “How bad is he?” she asked, wishing he would
just give her some sign. Havoc shrugged and motioned to the ground
again. “Sit, you are pale,” he ordered and she ignored him, her
eyes fixed on the form of the dragon.

Victory leaned back from the massive bronze
form, and it appeared to be shrinking. She watched in fascination
as the dragon’s body seemed to fold back into itself, and then it
was Finn lying flat on his back in the grass, still and unmoving.
She must have made a sound because Havoc’s hold on her tightened.
She could see the burns on Finn from here and his right side seemed
almost entirely black.

“Let me go, I won’t get in the way,” she
promised and tugged against his grip again. Victory was speaking to
Wisp now, and the small Fae seemed to crumble before his words. She
watched Wisp raise her hands to her face and saw the little Fae’s
shoulders shake with sobs. “Let me go now,” Jala demanded, panic
rising in her voice. Victory looked across to Havoc and gave a
slight shake of his head. She watched Finn’s form seem to spasm his
back arching in the grass.

“Spare yourself, Jala, there is nothing you
can do,” Havoc said in what she thought was meant to be soothing
tones.

Reeling back from his words, Jala stared at
him. She tugged on her arm again, and Havoc’s grip didn’t lessen at
all. “Let go,” she ordered again, her voice growing more desperate.
When he again ignored her, she summoned all of her rage and
frustration and balled up her fist. It was the first time she had
ever punched anyone, and from the way Havoc staggered back it must
have been a good start. The Firym had been caught completely off
guard by the blow and she caught him solidly on the jaw sending his
head snapping back. Without waiting for him to recover she sprinted
to Finn and dropped down on the grass across from Victory. The
damage was worse than she had seen from beside Havoc. His right
side was burnt through, and the flesh was cracked and split open,
revealing bone beneath. His right eye was gone and his left eye was
closed, his expression calm, despite the terrible ruin of his body.
At first, she thought him dead, until she noticed the very faint
rise of his chest.