The Knife's Edge (26 page)

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Authors: Matthew Wolf

Tags: #Fantasy

BOOK: The Knife's Edge
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“How did you…” he began.

Dared smirked. “You mean, how did you? Kail’s progeny indeed.”

Gray’s knees shook, wanting to buckle. Putting it together, he realized he was even more drained than before. The sun slipped above the horizon, casting the seven legends in shades of gold and scarlet.

“Das reh vo menihas,” Maris said with his eyes locked to Omni.

A flash of emotion passed between the Ronin and Omni abruptly strode forward, lifting his white shroud. As he did, a fall of long auburn hair tumbled out, framing a slender neck and a strikingly beautiful face of a woman. Without warning, she leaned towards Maris and kissed him deeply. Maris returned the kiss just as passionately. Gray wanted to turn, but he couldn’t help himself and he watched, awe-struck. Omni pulled away at last, replacing her cloth-mask, showing only her slender blue eyes once again. Then, in a swirl of dust and sand, Omni raced north, the other Ronin at her side.

“I didn’t see that coming,” Darius whispered.

“Nor I,” Gray replied, shaking himself. This whole time, Omni was a woman… A female Ronin, and a beautiful one at that, he thought. The stories had never mentioned it. However the stories were full of flaws, including the false nature of the Ronin. In a way, Omni being a woman wasn’t that surprising to him. He recalled the way she moved, graceful and deadly. She was truly a Ronin.

“Now that I think about it, I always knew there was something off,” Darius said.

“Liar,” Ayva retorted.

“Am not!” the rogue said.

“I saw something, however,” Ayva said, lifting her chin. “She always seemed stronger than the rest, and I see with good reason now.” Gray laughed, and together with Maris, they watched until the Ronin were a spec on the horizon.

“Well then, what now?” Ayva asked, turning.

She looked at him expectantly, as if waiting for his next words. The villagers, Mura, Karil, Rydel, and even Maris waited for his cue. Glancing into the sun rising in the east, Gray glimpsed the imposing white-capped spires. “East,” he announced and raised his voice for all to hear, “We make towards the Shining City.”

A Decision

T
HE SUN BLAZED HIGH IN THE
morning sky.

Vera tugged her dark cowl forward as she stood at a fork in the road.

One road lead east towards looming ice-capped mountains, and the other led further west, through ruined towns and away from Death’s Gate. Both paths were bare of tracks—as if the Ronin, and the villagers had simply disappeared. Wouldn’t that be convenient? She thought, not believing it for a second.

The Kage stood before the two paths as well.

All nine sat upon deathless steeds. They were garbed in dark armor with seamless, overlapping plates like a snake’s skin, and deep black cloaks that hid their faces. Grass burned and shriveled to ash with each stomping hoof from the Kage’s mounts. Steam breathed from the steeds flaring nostrils. Behind the Kage, the dark army roiled and Vera’s eyes scanned the restless horde.

Endless rows of beasts trundled and contended for rank, gnashing and clawing at one another. The Kage’s army blotted out the hills. It was a black stain on a once-green land. In the distance she glimpsed dark war-machines, crudely made, rising above the swarming masses. Even to Vera, the sight made her heart clench with fear. A human emotion, she thought disdainfully.

Vera stood removed as she preferred. Behind her, Drefah sat on his haunches. Beside him, stood the remaining few of her pitiful niux.

The leader of the nightmares, Malik the others called him, leapt from his huge mount. He was even taller than the others and wore a huge armored spike affixed to his right shoulder. Darkness flowed from him as he moved, defying the blazing sun. He knelt to the earth, his dark armor crunching as he sniffed the air like a feral beast. Every action of his unnerved her. Malik twisted and his burning stare fixed her. “Come, Vera,” he rasped, not aloud, but sounding inside her skull.

Vera suppressed her terror and obeyed.

Darkness breathed forth from the hood as Malik looked down upon her.

“How may I be of service, my lord?” She replied, hating her servile tone.

“Kneel,” he ordered.

She fell to one knee.

“Lower,” he commanded.

Wordlessly, she bent towards the soft earth.

His dark armor rustled as he knelt beside her. Vera noticed a handful of dirt in his armored fist. “Smell.”

She sniffed and gagged. “The flow. It’s the smell of wind,” she said in surprise and disdain. Wind was the outlawed element, and practically a myth within Farhaven. It was by far the most powerful of all elements, perhaps even stronger than the darkness she wielded. She had no idea it even existed, save for Kail the traitor… Kirin, she realized, nails biting into the flesh of her palm. She looked to the two paths and thrust a hand to the ground, summoning the spark. A veiled smile twisted her lips, seeing the footprints that were no longer there. “Their prints lead west. It looks as if they attempted to cover them up. It was done with the power of wind. A foolish mistake, my lord. Wind is too powerful an element to dissipate in such a short time.”

Malik made a grunt she took for agreement from within his deep cowl. “Their scent leads west as well.” He glanced over his shoulder to his other eight brethren on their dreadful steeds, as if confirming to them what had just transpired.

The dark army suddenly moved, roiling forward like a monstrous snake.

“We head west then?” she asked over the stampede of boots and rattle of armor.

“Where the sword goes, we go,” he replied.

Vera glanced away concealing her rage. The mere thought of the sword in their hands made her stomach twist and her dark power rise inside her. When she looked back however, her face was smooth. “Am I done then?”

Malik lunged, snatching her throat with impossible speed. Vera gasped. She grasped the giant hand, prying at his fingers, but it was no use. With inhuman strength he hoisted her from the ground like a doll and he rose to his full height. “No, I am not done with you. I grow tired of your disobedience, but I rather like your cunning. What to do with you? You desire to kill me, do you not?” Malik reveled in her surprise. “To have you at my side is a nuisance and yet…”

“Let me go,” she gasped.

Malik watched silently. Her vision dimmed and she flailed for her power, but it was no use. It was like reaching for a breath of air under an ocean of water.

“I…will…serve,” she voiced with her last breath.

Darkness flooded her vision, body convulsing. Malik flung her to the ground. She grasped at the fetid earth as her sight slowly returned.

“Yes, you will,” he whispered, so close she could smell his rank breath. He grabbed her hair. She winced, looking up at him, seeing only his pale, thin lips twisted in a sneer. “You are mine now. You will not leave my side from now on.”

No! She cursed. All my plans useless. I will never wrench the sword from Kirin’s grip, and if I do, I will have to hand it over. Suddenly she realized… “Does he approve of this?” Vera asked. “I very much doubt it would please him to hear that his pets are taking matters into their own hands and disregarding his orders.”

“The idea was the dark lord’s own,” the nightmare hissed. “Disagree and die.” Rage filled Vera’s vision as her nails clawed at the earth. “Gather your niux. I will see you at my side shortly,” he said, roughly brushing his armored hand across her smooth cheek. The skin cut and a thin red line of blood dripped onto her hand. He released his grip on her hair, throwing her down. His black cloak whisked as he mounted and rode towards the front ranks.

Vera watched the army roil forward, leaving dust and black smoke in its wake. Her anger was gone. A cold fire replaced it.

The ruby-throated dagger was in her hand, a familiar comfort but a frail imitation of her desires without the sword in her grasp. She eyed the trail. Something is not right. The voice that always pulled her closer to the sword told her that there was deception at play.

“Mistress?” Drefah asked, appearing at her side.

“It’s a trick,” she whispered.

“But I smell the sword-seekers as well,” the wolf growled. “Their foul stink flows west.”

“The trail is false. The sword took another path.”

“How do you know?” The wolf asked.

It would be impossible to explain to the wolf the voice that spoke to her. In truth, she didn’t even know what it was. Perhaps it was him? Or even the dark magic she had given herself over to long ago that promised to make her a living god once she possessed the power of the sword. She wasn’t even sure herself how it worked, but it did, so Vera said nothing as she turned and looked east. The Shining City. The last Great Kingdom in all of Daerval waited in those vast mountains. The last bastion of hope. A smile suddenly lit her perfect features. Just the kind of foolish fancy for a hopeless rabble.

“We go east,” she commanded, her voice filled with the promise of death. “Gather those who are loyal and those who seek the rewards of slaughter. We travel to the Shining City and to its demise.”

“But the Kage?” Drefah asked, eyeing the thundering army that moved west.

Vera wiped at her cheek, and looked with disgust at the blood that now stained her hand. “By the time they discover I am not by their side, it will be too late,” she said and licked the blood from her fingers. Soon, I will taste your blood, dear Kirin.

Burning Memories

T
HE INFERNO BURNED AND SCREAMS RENT
the night air.

Karil looked for a way to run, but every path was shrouded in fire. Her eyes watered from the heat of the conflagration. Hanging lanterns that flanked the forest path suddenly burst, and she shielded her eyes with a cry. Thundering cracks sounded above, and she looked up. The buildings suspended in the giant trees were collapsing. She ran for her life when the ground shook sending her sprawling. She gazed up as fiery wood and branches plummeted towards her.

Karil awoke in a violent rush. Real, she thought, gripping the coarse wool blanket. With a breath she looked around, remembering where they were.

Bodies surrounded her wrapped in blankets. They were inside the destroyed village of Moonville, a town just shy of the road to the Shining City. It was a small village. She remembered seeing it on the maps of Daerval in her many studies as a girl. All elves were trained in lore of both worlds, but only the king’s daughter was expected to know it all. She recalled those days fondly, studying the maps of Daerval. Back then, she could scarcely imagine a world without magic. A world beyond Farhaven. She would often wonder how humans, like her mother, lived without the spark running through their veins. They lived such short lives she had always thought. Yet now she knew that they did so much with those brief lives. She did not feel sorry for them, knowing the paradox in which they lived—for each short human moment was filled with enough life, that three hundred long years of elvin lifespan could not replace. One was not better than another, they were merely different.

Though Karil could not make out all the villagers in the darkness, she knew there were more among them now. Upon entering the town, she had been surprised to see a few surviving souls step forth from the burnt ruins. Only a few hadn’t joined them. She shivered, remembering those hollowed men and women; for all life in their eyes had been crushed by the terror of the Kage, like a boot upon a burning ember, leaving them mere husks.

There was a slight breeze. “I’m all right,” she answered before he could speak.

“I will be the judge of that.”

Like a gust of wind, Rydel appeared from the shadows. He removed his hood, and knelt before her. His great black cloak, while shrouding the rest of his form, did nothing to hide his powerful shoulders and muscular neck. The elf’s long, sharp ears protruded through his shoulder-length dark hair.

Sometimes the suddenness of his presence unnerved her… No, she caught herself. She would not let herself run away with mistrust and fear, especially not to those closest to her, and definitely not to him. He was and always had been her greatest ally and friend.

Rydel put the back of his hand to her forehead, and she brushed him away, though before she did, she was surprised at its softness. A slight tremor ran through her again, and his eyes narrowed. “You do not seem ill,” he admitted.

“I told you,” she insisted, gathering her cloak around her shoulders. “I’m all right. It was just a nightmare. We all get those.”

The elf looked into her eyes reading her, as he always could, but he could not refute the firmness of her tone. She dearly loved those pale blue eyes—they chilled others to the bone, but to Karil, they were warm. At last, he relinquished. “Full elves do not get nightmares,” he said, resting on the balls of his feet. “We sleep dreamlessly. I suppose the nightmares are from your human side.”

“I envy you,” she said quietly. Karil had seen her father sleep. The great elf’s lids never fluttered once, as if he were dead. The thought made her choke, fists clenching.

Rydel looked at her intently. “If I could take them I would.”

Karil changed the subject, ignoring another shiver. It reminded her of her mother’s vision, of prophecy. At least I’m not burdened by that gift, she thought. “Is it safe?” she asked, looking out into the waiting dark.

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