Exodus of the Xandim (GOLLANCZ S.F.) (62 page)

‘Take the Fialan,’ Corisand said urgently to Iriana. ‘Show it to him. We’ve got to lure him away from the city.’

The Wizard reached down into the leather pouch around the Windeye’s neck and grasped the Stone of Fate, which glared like a baleful green eye as if it recognised its ancient enemy.
‘One to shield, one to attack as we did with Hellorin?’

‘No, we need to split apart, so one can distract while the other attacks.’

‘I’ll need eyes then. Can’t use yours if we’re splitting up.’

‘Who?’

‘Taine, if he will. And we need to be Ghabal’s size.’

‘You have a plan?’

‘Take me to Taine, then go round to the north-east but stay this side of the walls. We don’t want Ghabal taking any more short cuts across the city.’

‘Then?’

‘We make it up as we go along.’

As soon as Iriana and Corisand had returned to their companions, who still waited on the hilltop that overlooked the city, the Wizard wasted no time. ‘Taryn?’

‘Lady?’ The black stallion changed to his human shape so fast that Iriana blinked in surprise.

‘You and Aelwen get the Xandim back out of danger. Yinze, go with them—’ She looked around for her brother, only to find that he had vanished. ‘Where in perdition is
Yinze?’

‘He went to help Avithan when the Moldan came,’ Taryn said. ‘We couldn’t stop him.’

‘
What?
That bloody idiot!’ Fear lodged in her gut like a dagger of ice. Having been parted from her beloved foster brother for so long, was she to lose him already? With a
wrenching effort, Iriana forced herself to put him out of her mind. ‘Rosina?’

‘I’m here.’ The pretty roan mare came forward and turned into the slender, red-haired girl who was equally lovely.

‘Take Melik and make sure he stays safe.’ Iriana scooped up the basket that Yinze had left on the ground, and put it into Rosina’s arms. ‘Get back to a sheltered place
away from the fighting with Aelwen and the others. Kea, Crombec, will you call your bearers to help the injured in the city? When Corisand and I attack the Moldan, use any Air spells you have that
might help distract him – but if his attention swings towards you, stop at once. Taine, will you come with me and be my eyes?’

‘Of course I will.’

Aelwen opened her mouth to protest, then closed it again at the savage expression on Taine’s face.

‘No heroics, any of you,’ Iriana warned them. ‘Corisand and I can do this. You can’t. We’re attuned to the Fialan and we’ve fought Ghabal before. Now
everybody stop wasting time and get into position.’

‘That told them,’ Corisand said, as she took Taine and Iriana, two up, to a place near the north-western curve of the city wall and dropped them off. ‘Good luck, Iriana, and
take your own advice. Stay safe.’

‘You too.’ Iriana hugged her friend’s arching grey neck, and the Windeye sped away to get into her own place on the other side of Sharalind’s beleaguered forces, and
change shape. Iriana had helped to save her people. Now she would return the favour.

~

A
lready the army’s attack had backfired. Ghabal let out an earth-shattering roar and took a great step forward, away from the uncertain
ground. His next step would bring his foot down on Sharalind’s army, stamping them out like ants. The Wizards scattered. Some escaped, others were trampled by their fellows, but a number
vanished beneath the Moldan’s colossal foot, and another wave of death-agony hit the survivors. Before the next footfall came crashing down, Warriors tried to run – or, if they had kept
their heads, apport – out of danger. It was a rout, a shambles, a charnel house, and the survivors were being buffeted, over and over, by the psychic shock of their comrades’
deaths.

The mortal component of Sharalind’s forces were even less fortunate. They could not apport out of the way, or run fast or far enough to escape the Moldan’s trampling feet. Aelwen,
riding the hovering Asharal who had agreed to convey her in Taryn’s absence, was about to pull back with the Xandim when she saw the horrifying carnage taking place. She had been told to stay
with the Xandim and get them to safety – but who in blazes did Iriana think she was, giving orders as if she had some kind of right?

Aelwen looked at Taryn, who had retained his human form but was now riding another of the Xandim. ‘Taryn, we can’t let this happen. Please ask your people if they’ll
help.’

‘But Iriana told us to get them back to safety.’

‘Who put Iriana in charge? I’m not going to obey her orders, and neither should you. The Xandim are free now – or are you?’ Aelwen goaded.

Taryn, though he looked reluctant, nodded. He turned back to the herd of Xandim and called out in mindspeech. ‘Please, if you will, help to rescue these people. Soon they will be our
allies. Only those who are willing, or able, may do this, and there is no compulsion on any of you. You are free people now, and you must choose.’

Though some – the young and old and a handful of others – hung back, most of the remainder rallied at his call. Glimmering with the flying spell they came swooping down from the
heavens to pick up the stricken warriors, Wizard and Mortal alike, bearing them to safety in the hilly area north of the city.

Suddenly Aelwen heard a well-loved voice, and looked down. Her heart almost stopped as she glimpsed a familiar face in the thick of the crowd, far too close to the mad giant. ‘Asharal,
quick – it’s Kelon,’ she shrieked, and the stallion took her down at breakneck speed.

Even as she descended, it happened. One of the Wizards’ vines, thick as a tree trunk, came erupting out of the ground within feet of her old friend, in an explosion of dirt and stones. One
of the rocks struck Kelon, and she saw him fall beneath the feet of the stampeding troops.

Aelwen acted without thinking. Kelon was in peril and she had to save him. But she, who had never even taken part in a Wild Hunt, could never have guessed how terrifying it could be in the thick
of a battle, with dust blinding her and getting in her nose and throat so that she choked and wheezed. The gargantuan figure of the Moldan towered above her, far more huge and dreadful than
anything she could ever have imagined, casting a thick black shadow. There were people, wild with terror, pushing at her on all sides.

Once they saw the horse, her fate was sealed. Everyone saw a faster way to escape the horror, and everyone wanted to take it. Asharal struck out with hooves and teeth, and Aelwen threw a hasty
shield around them while frantically scanning the ground for Kelon. He couldn’t be far, she knew. Asharal had landed almost exactly where they had seen him go down.

Suddenly there he was – just a glimpse – an outflung arm, a shoulder, a face turned half into the mud. Straining with all her might, Aelwen extended her shield in his direction until
she had used it to literally push the panicking mob aside. She did not dare look up, but she could hear that the Moldan was coming closer, his heavy footfalls making the earth jump and shake
beneath her. Even as she leapt from Asharal’s back she could feel the Xandim trembling, his newly discovered human intelligence at war with the equine instinct to flee the danger, far and
fast. ‘Stay with me,’ she begged him. ‘Hold on just a little longer.’

Kelon was barely conscious. He mumbled and let out a groan when she tried to wake him, but his eyes wandered, unfocused, across her face. What injuries had his body taken from those trampling
feet? What more damage would she do by moving him? But there was no choice. She had to take the chance. Aelwen was very strong from a lifetime of handling horses, but she couldn’t lift the
weight of an unconscious man. ‘Kelon,’ she shouted, slapping his face. ‘Wake up! You’ve got to help me get you out of here.’

She still wasn’t sure that he recognised her, but somehow the slaps and frantic shouts drove the message home. Even though she was taking most of his weight, his effort was enough to get
him unsteadily to his feet. Somehow she managed to get him onto the stallion’s back, though he’d screamed with pain as she’d heaved at him, and she felt as if she had wrenched
every muscle in her body.

With one last effort, Aelwen got up behind Kelon’s swaying form and held him tightly around the waist to steady him. ‘Now,’ she shouted, and let her shield fall. Asharal leapt
upwards, pushing off hard from the ground to climb high and fast, even as Ghabal’s massive foot came down in the midst of the mortal conscripts, right where Kelon had been standing.

They weren’t out of danger, and who knew how grave Kelon’s injuries might be, yet Aelwen, even in the midst of all the terror, the death and devastation, felt her spirits lift. With
Kelon perched in front of her, with her arms around him tightly, she felt her world, which had been tilting, sliding, out of her control, settle back onto an even keel. For the first time it came
home to her how much she had missed him; always at her side, faithful, steady and sure. She had been so accustomed to his loyalty, his unquestioning support, his unspoken love for her, that she had
barely noticed them until they had been taken away from her, but she had come to miss them dreadfully since the day she and Kelon had parted so bitterly.

Iriana took Taine’s hand. ‘You ready? I’m going to match us to his size, so hold on tight.’

‘Always.’

Corisand had taken human form and Iriana could see her growing, and beginning to tower over the city, away on the other side of Ghabal and the beleaguered army. Her eyes had taken on an uncanny
silver glow as she used her Othersight to spin a shield around herself. Iriana did the same, combining her powers of Earth and Air to form a translucent, adamantine shield around herself and Taine,
who was growing alongside her.

The Wizard magnified her voice to match the bellowing of her ancient enemy. ‘Is this what you’re looking for?’

‘You!’ Ghabal bellowed. ‘I will crush you, little insect.’

Iriana laughed scornfully. ‘Didn’t you learn your lesson in the Elsewhere? We defeated you then; we can do it again.’

‘Ah, but this time there is no Hellorin to interfere, or the meddling Evanesar to come to your aid. In this world,
I
will rule!’ He left the remnants of the Wizard army and
lumbered towards her, the giant axe lifted high.

Iriana let him get almost within reach of her, and apported the Stone across into Corisand’s waiting hand. The Windeye lifted the Fialan aloft, and it blazed into blinding brilliance in
her hand. ‘Hey, Ugly! Look what I’ve got!’

With a howl of frustration the Moldan left the Wizard and lumbered towards Corisand. Iriana looked at the northern gates of Tyrineld, to reassure herself that the remnants of the army had fled
to safety, and to her horror saw the last of them disappearing into the city, rather than away from it, as she had planned.

It’s my own fault. I never thought to tell
them
the plan. But may providence help Tyrineld if they decide to attack again
.

She let the Moldan get almost within reach of Corisand, who had thickened the air between them to slow his progress, then shouted in her loudest voice: ‘Over here, stupid. Remember
me?’ and launched a searing fireball at him. She had the satisfaction of seeing him flinch, and dodge clumsily out of its path. Clearly he did remember her – and what she had done to
him last time. Quickly she hurled another flaming missile, trying to steer him away from both Corisand and the city. The first one had startled him and his response had been pure reflex – but
this time she had lost the advantage of surprise. Since their last meeting, the rogue Evanesar Katmai had clearly been teaching him a few new tricks. Almost contemptuously he flicked the fireball
aside with one great hand.

Suddenly there came a shrill cry of challenge from Iriana’s right, from within the city itself.

‘Monster. Fiend. Foul creature of dirt and stone. Leave my city. Begone!’

There stood Sharalind, towering as tall as Iriana and Corisand, flanked by Avithan and Omaira, head of the Warrior Luen, who were standing behind her shoulders. Beyond them was a phalanx of
warriors, all grown to the same gargantuan proportions.

A chill ran through Iriana. ‘Stinking bat turds,’ she snarled to Taine. ‘Just when we’d distracted his attention away from the bloody city!’

The Wizards began striking at the Moldan with all the Earth magic they could muster, focused this time through Sharalind at the head of the phalanx, but if they thought this method would be more
effective, they were sorely mistaken. They hurled missiles that shattered against Ghabal’s stony hide, and their strangling vines slowed him hardly at all. Turning away from Corisand he
ploughed back into Tyrineld, crushing, shattering, killing, grinding everything beneath his feet into dust. As he moved towards Sharalind and her diminished band, he raised his gigantic axe with
its deadly trail of oily black shadow that followed the path of the blade.

Suddenly Iriana saw Yinze, his harp in his arms and playing feverishly, rise up on a pillar of air to the height of the enlarged Avithan. She could not hear what he was saying, but she could see
from his expression that he was begging his friend not to do this. Avithan, his white face grim and set, would not even look him, but swatted him away as though he were a fly. Yinze went spinning
through the air, out of control and falling. Iriana caught her breath – she was too far away to help, but suddenly Kea came soaring up from below. Her wings working furiously, she caught and
steadied Yinze, giving him an instant to collect himself and start to play again. Once more he was supported in the sky, but too far away now to be any help to Avithan.

‘All together,’ Sharalind shouted. ‘
Now!
’

Time seemed to freeze for Iriana as the scenario and its inevitable result flashed through her mind. It would be a petrifaction spell – that was all they had left – and on a Moldan
that wouldn’t work.

‘No!’ she cried, even though she knew that she was too late to stop them. The Wizards cast their spell – the focus was so intense that she could see the magic sizzling through
the air – and nothing happened. Ghabal continued his inexorable advance. The sinister axe swept down upon the helpless Wizard forces – and Iriana sent forth a blunted missile of air
that she’d learned from Corisand, straight at Avithan. It knocked him back, away, and off his feet. As he fell his concentration broke. He shrank to normal size and was lost somewhere among
the buildings as the Moldan’s axe mowed down his mother and the pitiful, valiant remnants of her army in a single stroke.