The Book of Deacon: Book 02 - The Great Convergence (54 page)

"Stand aside! Quickly!" she ordered, pulling
people away.

Reluctantly the frenzied crowd began to
spread out. Suddenly there was a brief, sharp burst of wind from
inside the center of the tangle of humanity. When the crowd had
finally parted completely, Ether was gone. The General gripped her
weapon tightly. She'd escaped, taken the form of wind. There was no
telling where she was, or even if she was still near.

"Spread out! If she is here I want her
found!" Trigorah ordered. "But do NOT face her. Leave her to
me!"

The townspeople swiftly obeyed. Trigorah
turned to the roof to see if Epidime had seen where the shape
shifter had gone, but his eyes were fixed firmly on the northern
horizon. Knowing it was pointless to ask him, she simply turned to
the task herself.

On the rooftop, Epidime's smile broadened.
Several dark forms had appeared on the horizon. He turned to the
crowd below. The chaos had died down a bit. That was unfortunate.
Chaos always made things more interesting. No matter, more was on
its way. For the time being more fruitful thoughts could be turned
to the shape shifter's reaction to the dangling of Demont's little
project. The injury of one Chosen had shown a direct correlation to
the pain of another. That was a theorized effect of a betrayal
between Chosen, and if there was to be a betrayal, this was the
most likely pair. The immediate question was obvious. Did this
transfer of punishment extend to the ultimate extreme? If he were
to kill the creature at his feet, would the shape shifter die as
well?

The question was an intriguing one. Logic
indicated that it would. Briefly he considered testing the
hypothesis. The thought was quickly abandoned. The only truly sound
plan that had been developed for dealing with the Chosen hinged
upon all of them being kept alive. For now he would have to sate
his curiosity with a second demonstration of the effect. He looked
down on the creature. She was stirring weakly. Impressive that the
beast could recover so swiftly. Impressive, but inconsequential, as
subduing her once more was simple enough. He inverted his halberd,
bringing the blade close to Ivy's head.

Suddenly there was a clash, and the weapon
was nearly knocked from his hand. He regained his grip, but before
he could identify the source of the attack a second came. The bite
of a blade stung his arm with force enough to rob a lesser man of
the limb entirely. He merely jerked his arm free and turned to see
who had wielded the offending weapon. It came as little surprise
that it was Lain who stood before him. Now prepared, the assassin's
next two attacks were blocked.

"The shape shifter, this monstrosity here,
and now you. That makes three Chosen in one place. I must take care
to stay on my toes, lest I bring about something prematurely,"
Epidime quipped cryptically.

Lain paid no heed, instead hurling attack
after attack at the General. Epidime proved more than able to
deflect them despite the gaping wound in his arm. On the ground
below, Trigorah was drawn from the alley she was searching by the
sound of combat on the tavern roof. She was about to rush to her
current partner's aid when one of the townspeople hurried up to
her.

"What? What is it?" Trigorah demanded.

"We found her!" cried the villager.

"Where? Show me!" Trigorah ordered.

He pointed excitedly down the street. The
General rushed off in that direction. She didn't make it two steps.
Something caught her foot and she tumbled forward. Before she could
turn, the sword was pulled from her hand. When she rolled to face
her attacker, it appeared that it was the same random villager, but
the truth was all too clear. The now pointless disguise dropped
away quickly, the stone form of the shape shifter replacing it.
With a powerful heave she hurled the crystal embedded weapon far
down the street. A heavy backhand robbed Trigorah of her
consciousness. Ether felt a strong need to finish what she had
started, but she had a more important task at hand. Ivy was still
in their clutches, and so long as she was, her own death was a very
real possibility. Her instincts told her to take to the air and
surge up to the rooftop, but the wielders of the halberds had
proven capable opponents in the past. Better to avoid the risk.

On the roof, weapon clashed with weapon.
Slowly, the damage to the arm was beginning to slow Epidime's
movements. Lain carefully angled himself, shuffling inch by inch
until he had managed to position himself squarely between the
general and his prize. With Ivy safely behind him, the ferocity of
Lain's attacks intensified. Epidime shifted his focus to defense.
Before long the only attacks thrown were Lain's, and more than a
few tasted blood. Despite this, Epidime seemed unafraid, even
amused.

"Such dedication. Such focus. And all for
that little thing behind you? What is it that motivates you so? Is
it preservation of the species? Or is it something stronger,"
Epidime mused out loud, as though the battle was the least of his
worries.

Lain ignored his words. The motion near the
northern horizon had grown. He knew what was coming. There was no
time to waste. He pushed forward, inching Epidime closer to the
edge of the roof, limiting his options.

"Your composure is remarkable. Single
mindedness can be a virtue. I wonder, though. With such thought
devoted to both your next move and mine, do you have any mind left
to ask questions? Why does he insist on fighting on my terms when a
simple spell would end the battle instantly?" Epidime taunted. "Is
he toying with me? Is he stalling me? Is it a test? Part of some
larger plan? Tell me Lain, do these thoughts occur to you at all,
or are you just a machine? Just a collection of parts working
toward a single goal?"

Now Epidime could go no further. Snow fell at
his heels as he reached the edge of the roof. Lain pushed harder,
but the defense of his opponent did not falter.

"Well. I've got an answer for you. This is
all just a pleasant distraction . . . until the real fun begins,"
Epidime said with a smile.

Almost as if on cue, a mixture of cries rose
from the streets below. Some were cries of fear, others of
excitement. The beating of leathery wings came next. Epidime leapt
backward off of the roof, a blur of motion snatching him into the
air. Shadows cast by the weak light of morning crisscrossed the
ground. Above, dragoyles circled, perhaps a dozen. One by one they
landed in the streets and on roof tops, figures dropped from their
backs. Some were nearmen, most armed as foot soldiers, but a
handful carrying bows. Worse, more than a few carried bundles that
seemed to split and multiply when they reached the ground. Cloaks.
Dozens of them. Now high above, Epidime climbed to the beast's
back.

"Fetch Demont's other toy. As long as we have
her, we have them all!" He ordered.

The beasts and men alike obeyed immediately,
though it was clear that it was not his voice that they obeyed. The
gem of his weapon surged brightly before they took to action. A
single nearman remained on the back of each dragoyle. The rest
rushed the tavern. Ivy was struggling to rise as Lain reached her
side. He pulled her to her feet.

"Can you run?" he asked, eyes trained on the
beast that circled nearest.

"I . . . don't think so," Ivy slurred.

Three dragoyles now flew in a tight ring
overhead. Lain silently weighed his options. He had his sword, two
daggers, and nothing else. He couldn't fight them all off and
protect her. Ivy was wavering. He could not carry her and hope to
escape. There were no other options. The creatures made their move.
Two converged on Lain, the third lunged for Ivy. Lain dove toward
her, grabbing her and forcing her out of the path of the attack.
They rolled to a stop at the sloping edge of the roof. The two
creatures collided, the first losing its rider, the second crashing
to the roof. The beast that would have had Ivy instead struck the
roof full force. Half rotten shingles shattered. Ancient support
beams groaned.

In an instant Lain was on his feet. He took a
dagger in his hand. These creatures had a weakness. Desmeres had
learned it. The riderless creature dove to the street. Another
thrashed wildly on the rapidly failing roof. One was on the verge
of recovery. Its inhuman rider croaked a command in an unnatural
language. The creature opened its mouth, ready to heave a breath of
wretched black miasma at the heroes. A flash of steel later and the
dagger was deep in the beast's throat. It released an earsplitting
shriek, hacking and sputtering the corrosive breath on roof and
rider.

Before any of the other beasts could mount an
assault, Lain threw Ivy across his shoulders and leapt to the
neighboring roof. As the stricken creature behind him seemed to
come apart at the seams, oozing gouts of the horrid black poison,
the ailing roof finally gave way, taking its occupants with it.
Lain's leap fell just short of its target and he collided painfully
with the lower roof's edge. He held his grip, though barely, and
dangled over the alleyway, which was now little more than a sea of
nearmen and cloaks. The latter creatures swept high into the air,
pitch black talons manifesting from the empty cloth and clawing at
Lain's legs.

In the streets, the last of the villagers
abandoned the fight, running for the outskirts of the city and any
shelter that could be found. The reinforcements called in by
Epidime gave little consideration to the fleeing villagers, intent
only on reaching their target. Only the unconscious body of
Trigorah received any thought, a dragoyle swooping down and
depositing her on the back of the creature ridden by Epidime. The
General was watching with interest as Lain struggled to pull
himself to the ledge when the stricken form of his partner was
delivered.

"What is this? Interesting. That shape
shifter must still be about," Epidime said. His detached coolness
persisted, as though through all of this he remained a casual
observer. "I suppose I should flush her out. Now would be an
unpleasant time for a surprise."

Ivy dizzily opened her eyes again, the leap
having disoriented her. The sight before them shocked her to full
consciousness. Just a few dozen feet below was a veritable ocean of
nearmen and cloaks. She scrambled to get a grip on the ledge,
pulling herself up as the blue aura quickly enveloped her. Had she
not been so recently subdued she would have been pushed over the
edge already. For now, though, the terrified creature fell to a
seat on the roof, her eyes darting up at the dawn sky speckled with
more dragoyles than she'd ever hoped to see. Lain pulled himself up
behind her, screaming orders as he did.

"Stay down!" he commanded.

The words were far away, lost to Ivy in the
cries of nearmen and shrieks of dragoyles. Lain ran to her, his
eyes locked on one beast in particular that dove toward her. Time
seemed to slow as the beast and the hero raced to their prize. Lain
reached for his last dagger. There was no time to aim, no time to
wait for an opening. He let it fly. The weapon soared
heart-stoppingly close to Ivy, nearly grazing her ear. It met its
target, plunging deep into the creature's hollow right eye socket,
driving itself hilt deep into the beast's skull. It screeched and
veered away, the groping talons missing their mark. Instead of
snatching her up into the air, the flailing claws raked down her
arm. She cried out as she was thrown to the shingles. As she did, a
second cry joined in agonized harmony.

The windy form of Ether launched up from the
alley below. She had been among the creatures, silently striking
them down as the others blindly fell over each other to reach the
heroes above, but the time for that had passed. The force of her
surge from below dragged cloaks and nearmen alike up behind her.
Two more beasts dove at her allies. Lain drew his sword and carved
a long gash down the side of one, but the second was beyond his
reach. Its claws clamped down on Ivy's shoulder. She was jerked
into the air, screaming in pain and fear. The blue light about her
was almost blinding, but it began to falter.

"We shall have none of that today, little
prototype," Epidime remarked from his perch atop a nearby dragoyle,
the gem of his weapon shining bright as he closed his will about
her, flexing his potent spell again.

It snuffed away the aura, but only just. Ivy
still struggled and screamed. In an instant Ether was streaking to
her, crying out as the pain inflicted on her ally was meted out as
punishment upon her.

"Archers!" Epidime ordered.

Instantly there was the twang of a dozen bow
strings, but Ether paid no mind. She knew that arrows would have no
effect on her. A sudden searing pain tore through her, quickly
surpassing that which her mark had dispensed and more. Her eyes
turned to the radiant tip of an arrow as it tore through her windy
form. Those blasted crystals. They'd tipped the arrows with them,
just as some of Bagu's soldiers had! Ether was forced to waste
precious time dodging the onslaught, but it was not long before she
was back to her task, the skill of the bowmen woefully inadequate
to properly strike her. A moment later she had reached her target.
Epidime was not blind to this. He had planned for such a case.
Ether shifted to stone the moment she was above the dragoyle,
smashing down on the creature's back and knocking the rider to the
ground far below. She then set about clawing and hammering at the
black beast, its dark blood staining her hands.

"Release her!" Epidime ordered.

The dragoyle clutching Ivy obeyed. The
hapless creature streaked earthward, her fear quickly taxing even
the considerable efforts of Epidime's spell. Ether leapt from the
dragoyle's back, plummeting like the stone she was before shifting
again to wind. She swept around Ivy, slowing and guiding her
descent. The young hero was scarcely comforted by this, the
dizzying height and rushing wind doing little to settle her
nerves.