Brightflame Accension (Book 1) (21 page)

Will heard again the screams of dying cadets; he was transported back to his house the day the raiders had come. Will saw his mother fall, then a flaming arrow bury itself into a bandit. Images, sounds, memories all flooded back to him at once, and Will was paralyzed. Vale pawed his leg, bringing Will back to the present.

Furrowing his brows, Will strapped his pack across Vale’s shoulders and took a seat on his muscled back. From his seat, Will surveyed the dismayed Lumbertons.

Art would have been better prepared to lead them
, Will thought.
He is the one who knows every face in this crowd. He would have found words to inspire them. But Art is not here, and I have no words.

Ever calm, Vale purred.
Fear not for these men and women are as brave and loyal as you are. They know you. They trust you. They will follow you into battle. The question is are you ready?

Aye. Tonight, many will know the bite of my blade
, Will said with such conviction that he surprised himself. Vale snorted, amused.

Directing his attention to the assembled Lumbertons, Will smiled broadly. The expression was spontaneous, yet effective. The others gathered around him shed their worried looks as faces grew determined instead. “Some of you have trained at this academy longer than I. Some of you are fresh recruits. But all that makes no difference now. This night, all that matters is whether you are prepared to fight, to kill, to die. Answer me! Are you?” Will shouted at them.

A roar of affirmatives greeted his words.

“Do you have the courage necessary to survive the night? Are you men and women of valor and honor? Are worthy of the Lumberton crest upon your tunic?”

“Aye! Let’s go already. I want to get me hands around one of their necks before they’re all dead.” It was Ben.

Gregor, standing beside him, shouted, “All Ben wants is to get out of here before we realize he’s pissed himself in fear.”

“Oy, I have not!”

Will laughed. “Save it for the enemy, boys. We stream out of here on my mark.”

Will readied his shield as Vale approached the exit of their haven. All held their breath as a Will gave signal for the door to be opened. With the door ajar, Will could see a group of black-garbed soldiers at the entrance of the Pit fighting for their lives against the statue of Lumberton’s bear.

Keeping itself between the assailants and the door, the statue had leapt to life to defend the Pit. Swords clanged against its stone body, doing little damage.

Noticing the door opening, an enemy mage directed her attention at Will. Raising his shield, Will recoiled as several projectiles buried themselves in the wood. His eyes flashed red as Vale charged.

The skirmish lasted only a few minutes, and at its end, the rattled Lumbertons stood victorious. A few cadets had fallen, slain in combat, but the majority of them had survived the encounter.

“Are any of ours wounded?” Will asked, trying to take no notice of the corpses around him. Despite his best efforts, however, the stench of blood and death was impossible to ignore. A boy raised his arm; a large gash ran down the side of it. “Heal him, then we move on.” A cadet hurried over to the wounded boy, muttering spells under his breath.

One of Boewdard’s men stirred, groaning. Vale paced over to him and drew a claw across his throat. The man spluttered, fighting for air as he drowned in his own blood. After a moment, he fell silent and did not rise again.

What was that?
Will demanded, shocked at the brutality.

He was knocking on death’s door. I helped him along his way, before he could give away our position. Even as he woke, he tried to contact Boewdard with his mind. Luckily, he was too dazed to focus his mind.

Will did not know how to respond, his thoughts interrupted as the healer announced that he had done the best he could. With the wounded mostly healed, Will asked, “Where are the other dormitories? Does any one know?” A third-year cadet stepped forward to answer his call. “Lead us.”

She hurried along quickly, the rest of the party following close at her heels. Down three flights of stairs and through several corridors, she led them. Backing herself against a wall, she stopped. “The Scalefire dormitory is around the corner,” she whispered.

Preparing himself again for battle, Will nodded and urged Vale forward. Quickly turning the corner, they skidded to a halt. Looking at the scene before him, Will felt sick. Five students had been dragged out from their common room and mutilated. Their scarred skin still bled, though the flow was merely a trickle now as most of it already spattered the floor. Will could barely recognize them as people so badly had they been torn apart. And the smell…

Where are the rest?
Will asked. Vale hung his head. Hearing sharp footsteps, Will spotted a dark shadow dashing down the next corridor. “Where is the next room? Nobody is here; they are either dead or have joined with the enemy.”

The third-year stepped forward again, “This way.” They trotted on ever faster, nervous of what they might find. After tense minutes of quiet dashing from cover to cover, they stopped again. Around the corner, many voices could be heard shouting.

“Open up and no one will get hurt. Come, my children, come on out,” one oily voice promised.

A few moments later a response was heard, “Never! We will rot in the abyss before we give ourselves up to you animals.” Angry growls came from the men surrounding the Soardale common room. Will sighed; at least some of the cadets here were still alive and fighting.

Will signaled for his band of Lumbertons to creep forward. They cautiously rounded the corner and crept towards the distracted men. The Lumbertons were halfway to the men when the only girl in the crowd of invaders looked around. It was Hostice. With a shout, she alerted the men. Will swore loudly, cursing Hostice’s treachery.

Charging forward before the men had a chance to react, Vale slashed open one man’s chest with his deadly claws. As Vale reared to deliver the fatal swipe, Will fell off his back, landing on his shoulder and rolling to the side.

A dark cloud of smoke surrounded the combatants, confusing and frightening all. Boewdard’s men scrambled about in the pitch-blackness, swinging their blades blindly, and many of the Lumbertons cried out in anguish. The smell of rotting eggs filled his lungs, and Will knew Hostice was using her Shadow Lighter abilities to create a smoke screen.

Engulfed in his own power, Will had a heightened sense of his environment, so much so that he did not need to see to kill. He merely heard the enemy scuffling about and struck.

Several fell to his glittering white sword in that long, dark minute. Vale, too, using his keen senses to attack the men, slew many. Silently and stealthily, the frevmat crept up on his targets, killing them one by one.

Hearing no more shouts, Hostice allowed the smoke to dissipate. Looking around, the traitor was shocked to see the bloody corpses of her comrades lying around her. Her dark skin paled, and her eyes opened wide in fear. The unharmed Lumbertons advancing, Hostice darted out of reach before Will could grab her.

Before she was out of range, Will threw a knife at her retreating back. The small dagger glanced off her cheek. Hostice screamed in pain, but continued to run, disappearing around a corner.

Two recruits made to pursue, but Will extended his arm, holding them back. “We stick together.” Turning to the wall, Will shouted, “Any of you spell casters seeking to survive the night?”

Stones shifted on their own accord, and a young girl tentatively stuck her head out of the Soardale common room, suspecting some sort of trick.

“Brightflame, it’s you!”

“Come out. As you can see, our enemy is very much dead,” Will said, indicating the mangled bodies with his sword.

Signaling to her fellow Soardales, the spell casters gathered in the corridor. Some took one look at the dead bodies and turned to go back into the relative safety of their common room. “Hold!” Will told them, “If you turn tail and flee back to your beds, you will not live to see another day. We must abandon the castle immediately. Boewdard and his troops serve the Shadow Liberator, and they will kill each and every one of us unless we join them. I know not your intentions, but I will not join them and I will not die, not tonight. Follow us out of the castle. Gather your supplies; we leave presently.”

Soardales shuffled back into the room and returned soon enough with their packs and bags. Slowly, the sound of marching feet grew louder from the direction of the Foyer.

“Run! Is there another way out?” Will shouted, starting off on foot. The same girl that had led them before ran ahead, guiding them down a multitude of hallways. Flinging open a door, she exited the castle and stopped in the yard, waiting for Will’s order.

“Fly, fly to the stables and leave, head for the mountains to the north. I will meet you there as soon as I can. If I do not show, break camp by dawn and continue the retreat,” Will instructed the frightened cadets.

“We will not leave you behind, Brightflame,” a Lumberton cadet protested loudly.

“I will follow your trail when I can. Just keep riding north and post sentries when you sleep.”

What are you doing?
Vale asked. He knew of course, the leopard had direct access to Will’s mind, but some things needed to be said aloud.

Come with me, Vale. To the front entrance and into the Foyer, we need to find Art.

You are mad, child, but your loyalty is inspiring. We shall save Art
.

Ben and Gregor stepped forward to embrace their friend, and then the cadets and Will ran in their separate directions. Will allowed his mind to be overtaken by the Furialist power once again as he padded through the courtyard.

“Brightflame!” came a hushed whisper in the dark. “Come here, boy.” It was Nailfram, crouching behind a shrub. His frevmat, Gollemp, slinked into view, taking care to avoid torchlight in which it might be spotted.

Will skidded to a halt and ducked low, taking cover next to the alchemist.

“What are you doing?” Nailfram hissed. “Leave this castle while you still can!”

“I have to find Art,” Will said stubbornly.

“He’s dead, boy. Everyone is dead in there.”

“I cannot accept that.”

Nailfram nodded, his ugly face as unreadable as stone. “Very well. If you are here to fight, you must listen to me first.” He wiped a strand of lank hair from his forehead already beaded with sweat, rambling in a muffled voice, “The men here tonight, Boewdard’s men, the Liberated Army, they aren’t here just to ‘liberate’ a new class of initiates. They have come for the Void Gauntlets.”

“The what?”

“The Void Gauntlets. The Shadow Liberator has discovered that they were in my possession, only the gods know how. But he has it in his mind that the Gauntlets will make him invincible, that they are the key to finally unlocking the shadows he threatens to release into Gammalgard.

“Now, while I cannot in good faith guarantee invincibility, possession of the Gauntlets will bestow upon the Shadow a great power. Anyone who dons the
Void Gauntlets receives that gift, but there is a prophecy that tells of a time when the Gauntlets will return to their true master, to the One worthy of wielding them. This man would be granted unthinkable strength, perhaps even the ability to destroy the world. You cannot let the Gauntlets fall into Boewdard’s hands tonight. We cannot risk the Shadow fulfilling the prophecy. No matter what else happens, you must keep the Gauntlets safe.”

“Well, have you got them on you?” Will asked.

“No, they are hidden away in Gollemp’s den. He will guide you to them. I fear we may not have much time before Boewdard recovers the Gauntlets. You must go now.”

“What about Art?”

“You’re wasting time! Secure the Gauntlets, keep them safe. Hurry, Brightflame. The fate Gammalgard rests in your hands.”

Will darted from their cover towards a side door he knew would lead him to Nailfram’s quarters. Gollemp loped past him, guiding the way. Ducking into a room to allow a group of men stomp past, Will proceeded down a dark hallway.

In an instant, the lion froze, issuing a deep growl. His golden eyes flashed in the darkness and the rumbling grew louder.

“Gollemp?” Will said, extending his hands in an attempt to placate the beast.

The lion snarled and crouched low to the ground as if preparing to pounce. With a growl of his own, Vale padded forward, shielding Will from danger. The leopard’s icy eyes bore into the lion’s with a silent fury and a warning.

But Gollemp was not interested in attacking Will. The lion’s face widened with shock and terror. He shook his mane violently and leapt forward past Vale and Will, making for the hallway. Midstride, he collapsed with a hoarse mewl. Panting for air, the lion clawed at the floor in agony. Then, there was silence. Gollemp’s great head fell to the ground limply, his mane hanging motionless.

Nailfram is gone
, Vale said solemnly.

Will’s heart panged with sadness. The bond between man and frevmat was strong; when one suffered, the other suffered doubly so. When one perished…

The Gauntlets, Will
.

At Vale’s words, Will realized again the peril they were in. Any moment, Boewdard and his men might arrive. What then?