Brotherhood Saga 03: Death (70 page)

If one were to truly think about it, they could say that their calls resembled something of a
baby screaming uncontrollably as it was slowly but surely strangled.

Is that why I
’m so afraid?
he thought, trembling, rubbing his arms to try and instill warmth in them.
Is that why I’m having such a hard time comprehending what’s going on?

To his left, Kethlan and Terrence opened a long series of cupboards to reveal several sets of bows and the quivers of arrows beneath them, all strung and perfectly ready to be used come a moment
’s notice.

“Do you know how to shoot?” Odin asked.

“My father shot just as good as any Elf ever did,” Virgin said, taking the longest of the bows from its place in the cupboard. “And he taught me the exact same thing.”

Stepping forward, Odin reached into the cupboard, grabbed a short bow, then pulled a quiver of arrows from the bottom shelf and slung it over his shoulder.

It took but one look outside to realize it would be a very long night.

They waited for something to happen.

Something, anything,
everything—
it would have appeared to anyone looking on the scene that the four men were simply waiting for the end of the world, much less for women of the peaks to descend upon the village and tear the inhabitants to pieces. Two beside the fire, bows ready and minds uneasy; two beside the window, watching and waiting for them to come—two polar opposites completed one another inside the highest part of the watch tower and made everything come full circle. What advantage they held seemed undeterminable, as for them to fight the creatures of tooth and claw with bows and arrows should have been considered foolhardy. However, regardless of what others may have thought and despite the advantages pressed against them, they simply sat in silence, listening to the hiss of the winter air and the occasional cry that went up into the sky.

Seated in one of the two chairs beside the fire with his head falling progressively lower and his mind ready to wink out from lack of sleep, Odin adjusted his position an
d crossed his arms over his chest in an attempt to keep himself awake. He cracked his eyes open to slits and set his attention on Virgin, watching his companion’s attention flicker simultaneously between the two guards before falling on the door at the side of the room.

Slowly, as to not startle his companion, Odin reached out and set his hand on Virgin
’s shoulder.

“Are you all right?” Virgin asked.

Behind them, Kethlan and Terrence turned to regard the scene before setting their attention on the outside world.

“Tired,” Odin said, his voice low
and without sympathy.

“If you
’d like us to wake you up,” Terrence said, “the two of you could sleep on the cots over there. It wouldn’t bother us any.”

“We
’ve already had enough sleep for the day,” Kethlan added.

“I
’m fine,” Virgin said. “It’s my partner who’s tired.”

“I can stay up,” Odin said. “Really, I—“

Virgin clapped a hand over his mouth before he could finish.

As a smile crept over the Halfling
’s face, revealing teeth so painfully white it almost hurt Odin to look at them, he felt his conscience slip once again before he pushed himself out of the chair and set his bow and quiver on the table.

There, in the middle of the room, another cry went up—this time, much closer than it should have been.

“Are you sure I should try to sleep?” Odin asked. “I don’t want to leave the three of you alone if something happens.”

“We
’ll be fine,” Virgin said. “Don’t worry, Odin, we’ll—“

“It
’s not like any of you can use magic—at least, so far as you’ve let on.”

At this, Virgin had no reply. Kethlan and Terrence merely watched him with eyes unsure and, possibly, even the slightest bit afraid.

You know I’m the only reason the two of you are alive,
he thought, a yawn stretching the corners of his mouth.

Had it not been for his carefully-guided shot, the Harp
ie would have surely attacked one of them, if not blinded or killed them outright.

Unsure what to do but all the more willing to collapse
and pass out, Odin pressed his hands against the table, closed his eyes, then took a slow, deep breath.

A hand reached out and touched his shoulder.

He opened his eyes to find Virgin standing directly beside him, green eyes alight with concern yet clouded by signs of exhaustion. “I think,” the older Halfling said, lifting his head to examine Kethlan and Terrence, “that I’ll get some rest as well, if that’s all right with the two of you?”

“Y
ou’ll hear it if something happens,” Kethlan said.

“Besides,” Terrence added. “The two of you won
’t be any use if you can’t aim straight.”

“Right,” Odin said.

Without so much as another word, he and Virgin made their way to the cot, then climbed up and onto it.

Though there were no blankets to cover them, the warmth from the fire seemed enough.

When Odin closed his eyes, he thought he saw a set of razor-sharp teeth flickering at the edge of his vision.

Were they from a Harpie
’s jaw, or was it just his imagination?

Screams tore him from sleep.

Odin opened his eyes.

Light streamed through the windows and cast shards of shadow across the room.

“What
’s going on?” he asked, pushing himself out of bed and toward the table, where his bow and quiver still lay.

“They
’re here,” Kethlan said.

At the guard
’s side, Virgin and Terrence braced arrows against their drawstrings and prepared to fire.

What do I do?
he thought, panicking, breath caught in his throat and mind reeling.

“I don
’t know how to shoot,” he said, looking back up at the three of them.

“It
’s easy,” Virgin said, lifting his bow and testing the string by drawing an arrow back. “Just put the arrow to the bow, line up the tip to the string, then pull it back.”

“I—“

Another scream cut him off.

Blood sprayed through the air.

Heart hammering, Odin threw himself toward the window just in time for Virgin to pull his drawstring and fire an arrow.

They came like a swarm of bees from the highest parts of the perpetually-white sky and made their way toward the men standing on the highest parts of the walls with their clawed feet extended and their dagger-like nails gleaming in the midmorning light. Much like a bird of prey
approaching the water to catch a fish, they dove with the grace of those sewing needles through thread and attempted to latch onto any of the guards standing atop the high walls, but to no avail. Most seemed clumsy in their attempts—young, possibly, or maybe even foolish—but each avoided the arrows by dancing through the air with speed that Odin could barely keep up with. First one would be before the guard, snarling and bearing her teeth, then she would be gone before he could even have a chance to truly see her.

No.

How could anyone expect to shoot them when they were so fast?

“Stay sharp!” Kethlan cried, throwing one of the side windows open.

“They’re coming!” Terrence screamed.

The flock turned, appeared
to make way toward their tower in the far east, then split away, each shooting in opposite directions and patterns.

One, however, launched herself toward the open window.

Odin raised his bow and set an arrow to the string.

She would have been beautiful, were she harmonic and not in the least bit threatening, as from the waist-up and from the shoulders to the elbows she appeared to be nothing more than a beautiful maiden, fire-haired with gleaming golden skin that
shined like thousands of gold pieces laid out in the sun. Further down, however, she lay covered with down feathers—mostly in hues of black and blue, resembling something of a raven that had taken on a human form, but also bearing shades of purple along her midsection and the finer aspects of her wrists and ankles. Nature had set her eyes slanted upon her head and beneath the folds of her eyelids shone nothing more than pits of pure darkness, while upon her wings lay five long feathers that resembled something like human hands encapsulated in an avian form. These reached out for both him and Virgin as she thrust herself forward with her clawed feet up and her mouth open to reveal a gaping maw of razor-wire teeth, but as soon as Virgin shot an arrow toward her, she spun, with supernatural speed, to the side, before thrusting herself into the air and back with her flock.

“They
’re too fast!” Virgin cried, drawing another arrow before firing it into the crowd.

“To the walls!” Kethlan cried.

Virgin and Terrence threw themselves toward the open doorway.

Slinging his bow over his neck, Odin reached down, cl
ipped his swords to his belt, then lunged for the open window.

Upon the high walls, Odin saw his version of hell.

One of the guards who’d been positioned on the far side of the wall close to the mountains had been taken into the outstretched claws of a Harpie and now lay dangling by his jerkin some fifty feet in the air. Around said Harpie—blessed with beauty and bearing a mane of shockingly-blonde hair—several others were twirling through the air as if taunting the victim their sister had so vicariously captured. One lunged forward, darted away, then laughed, while another snapped her outstretched jaws toward the man’s face so close Odin thought he would lose the tip of his nose. That, thankfully, did not happen, and as the Harpies continued to dance and laugh and jeer, Kethlan and Terrence fell to one knee each and drew back their drawstrings with arrows freshly pulled from their quivers.

His heart caught afire.

His ears began to buzz.

Odin looked to Virgin, who stood directly beside him, then raised both hands.

Fire slicked his palms.

As if sensing their impending doom, each Harpie turned to face him.

A short moment later, Odin threw two orbs of light in their general direction.

As he
’d anticipated, each of the Harpies threw themselves in opposite directions away from the sister bird and began to dance through the air, spinning like bizarre toys thrown into the air and expected to remain upright. However, as the orbs of light drew closer, forcing the primary Harpie he’d been targeting to try desperately to climb into the air but to no avail, they split into several miniature orbs and exploded into life in the air. White fire rained from the sky and sent several of the Harpies spinning—one, ablaze, into the wall, then into the snow below it, while another pair collided and plummeted into one of the watch towers. In haste, the Harpie holding the man captive released her prey, then threw herself into the air.

While the man fell, Odin half-expected a second Harpie to dive down and grab him.

“Cover me,” Odin said.

Virgin raised his bow and fired an arrow.

Thrusting his palm forward, he created a physical barrier sphere around the man and caught him just before he could land, head-first, into the wall.

“Bless the Gods!” one of the men on the far wall cried. “A mage!
A MAGE!”

A chorus of cheers went up into the air as Odin set the man on the ground and turned his attention to the flock.

Hovering above the very center of the town, arms flapping and mouths askew with rage, the Harpies watched every person visible on the highest walls before thrusting themselves into the air.

“How many are there?” Terrence asked, raising his hand to shield his eyes as the creatures began to spiral like a school of fish beneath the sea.

“Dozens,” Virgin replied. “Maybe even more.”

“They
’re coming,” Odin said.

They conti
nued to spiral through the air, positioning themselves and their bodies in the shape of an arrowhead, before directing their assault toward Odin and Virgin.

“They
’re on to you,” Virgin whispered.

Odin raised his hand.

Come on,
he thought, grimacing, channeling all his will from his palm and into the air.
You can do this.

Beads of sweat broke out along his brow despite the chill and ran their course along his face, into his eyes and down past his lips, which
quivered from the force of it all and threatened to crack and spill blood down his chin. Somehow, someway, he was able to maintain the force of the pressure and instead channeled all the hurt, pain and consequence he felt into his spell to stop all the Harpies at once.

He opened his eyes.

The barrier appeared before him like a shield of white light.