DEMON’S TOUCH 
by James Barclay 
 

 

 

AUUM DROPPED LIGHTLY to the ground, rolling on impact and rising swiftly to his feet. The tiny clearing was hemmed in by typically dense Calaian rain forest foliage. It was one of a network of insertion sites spread throughout the forest, kept clear by RingFence wards.
He stepped to the tree line and nodded up into the darkness. The two mages hovering above him soared away, ShadowWings whispering against the night. One after another the team flew in, carried by mage pairs. Soon, the six of them stood together. Auum gave a small prayer of thanks to Yniss for their safe arrival and led his Tai forward, silent over the dense undergrowth covering the rain forest floor. The canopy above held in the humidity of the day gone by and in the gloom, the forest was alive with the sounds of life and sudden death. This was the land Auum knew, his land. Land he would give his life to rid of those who did not belong.
A few paces in, Auum sensed movement. He held up a hand and they stopped, dropping into a crouch. From the east it came, padding easily through the undergrowth. A panther, sleek and black, intelligence and recognition in its eyes. It nuzzled Auum’s hand.
They relaxed and stood, waiting. An elf emerged from the trees in front of them. His panther went to him. The eyes of the forest: she, jet black; he, tall, very slim, and with a face painted half white, half black. They were ClawBound, mind and senses melded to one another. The perfect scouts. The ones the enemy termed death-watchers.
“Care,” said the elf in a voice unused to speech.
“Always,” said Auum.
“The nest is large. It offends.”
“Purification is at hand.”
“Travel north. You will know when you are near.” The ClawBound pair vanished into the forest, lost in moments.
Auum indicated left and right, and the two others of his TaiGethen cell, Rebraal and Ciisker, slipped soundlessly away to flank and observe. Behind Auum, three mages of the Al-Arynaar calling tracked his footsteps. He would take them where they needed to be. The execution was their task; and none would be more challenging than this.
The war against the demons had been won, but pockets of the enemy remained trapped in the Balaian dimension. And, deep in the rain forests of Calaius, enough had escaped detection to present significant threat. Dozens of temples to Yniss, Gyal, Shorth, Tual, and any number of elven gods lay hidden in the vastness of the forest. Places where demons might use the power they possessed to reopen the dimensional gateway once more. That could not be allowed to happen. Balaia was too weak to repel another invasion.
Auum ran on, his eyes piercing the darkness, his ears listening for any sound that clashed with the natural ambience of the rain forest. It was fitting that tonight’s target had chosen to cower in a temple dedicated to Shorth, the god of death; benevolent to his own, tormentor of his enemies.
In less than five hundred paces, the feel of the rain forest changed. Auum stopped and dropped to his haunches, the mages with him. Rebraal and Ciisker appeared at his side, wraiths from the dark.
“Rodent, lizard, and bird grow silent,” said Auum. “We are close. Rebraal, report.”
“We are on the defensive perimeter,” he said. “The temple is sheathed in vine and moss, little more than ruins on the outside. Strike-strain, reaver, and seeker demons are airborne.”
“It is the same left,” said Ciisker, her voice low and husky. “Their flight grid is tight. Ground is cleared all around the temple. There is light and movement inside.”
“Many to send to Shorth,” said Auum. He looked at the mage trio. Dila, Geth, and Jaru. All from the Heth tribe and handpicked by Auum himself. “We need a way in.”
Dila nodded. “We’ll take care of it. Get us closer. I need to see what we’re up against.”
“Tai, we pray.”
Each TaiGethen painted the face of another. Dark greens and browns completing the camouflage of their clothing. A ceremony for focus on the verge of battle and to remove any last vestiges of uncertainty. The mages knelt by them, heads bowed, reverent.
“Tual, lord of forest denizens, let your children guide our senses. Shorth, protect our souls should we fall. Yniss, lord of all, we exist to do your work. Today we take one small step. Tomorrow, the end of our journey is closer. TaiGethen and Al-Arynaar will never fail you. Our eyes will pierce the dark. Our ears will hear every sound. Our hands and feet will kill. All in your name. Yniss, we beseech you, show us the path.”
Assent was murmured. Auum nodded.
“This master is ancient and powerful. He is an implacable foe. Do not be fooled by his stature. His strength is immense. He is Hiela, and he is to be respected but not feared. Heth mages, when you have the opportunity, you must be quick. Remember what his death means to us and to the humans of Balaia. Tai, seek the calm. Trust your instincts. Without each other, all are lost. Tai, we move.”
In front of the temple, the ground was cleared for thirty yards until the forest closed in. Auum knelt in deep cover. Tual’s children were quiet in the trees and in the undergrowth. He studied Dila, watching her follow the flight patterns above the temple. She was frowning.
“Problem?”
“No,” she said. “Just takes a while to realize it isn’t random. A mistake on their part. Give me a moment.”
She spoke quickly to the others. Auum saw them understand.
“The EarthMask will only last a count of twenty, or we’ll be too drained. You’ll have to move fast,” she said.
Auum raised his eyebrows. “Just show us the marks.”
“One chance. We’ll be Cloaked,” said Dila.
“Yniss will protect us. He will work through you.”
“Your path takes you on an arc across the patch of dead strangler vine ten yards ahead right, the balsa tree stump a further fifteen yards right center and last into the lee of the door overhang. Keep your elbows tucked and run low.”
Auum nodded. Dila turned to her mages, and the three of them studied the tight corridor she had described. Every leaf, every clump of earth, blade of grass, and strand of vegetation registered in the shape they built in their minds with mana, the fuel of magic. The backdrop, the stars in the sky, everything. The shape was incredibly complex, incredibly draining on a mage’s stamina. Of all the spells that had been developed in the aftermath of the demon invasion, this one alone impressed him.
Dila turned a face lined with strain to the Tai cell. She blinked once. Auum felt a shiver in the air. The projection snapped into place.
In line order, the elven warriors tore across the open space. Half-crouched, counting. Above them, the demon seekers cruised and turned. Auum made the distance before the count had reached fifteen. He ushered Rebraal and Ciisker in and motioned them to examine the door, a solid iron-bound wooden double portal with a heavy lock mechanism.
To his right, the briefest shimmering and the illusion fell. He tensed. Up in the sky, a seeker demon was drawn. Some tiny sudden movement out of kilter with the rhythm of the forest. It broke from its flight pattern and swam down, fluid. Its sinuous net of optics resembled a sparkling cobweb in flight.
Out on the open ground, the mages approached under CloakedWalks. Auum could see the slight depressions in the sodden muddy undergrowth. Before long, the seeker would see them, too.
The creature floated down, followed by a dozen rat-sized strike-strain. Reavers followed a little higher, lazing in the sky, their body colors swimming from deep gray to a warm, pulsing blue.
Rebraal was at Auum’s shoulder.
“We must distract them,” he whispered.
Auum put up a hand. “Trust, Rebraal. Panic, and we are lost. Their footfalls are slowing. They can see the danger.”
And they could. No new depressions were made. The mages had not ceased forward motion, but progress was slight, like flowers opening on a new day. To stop would be to become visible. Balance was everything.
The seeker floated lower. Auum retreated into the deep shadow, peering through a net of vines. Out in the open, the mages could only make their minute body moves forward and pray the seeker did not collide with them. Auum offered a prayer to Tual to protect His children. The seeker’s flanks flashed with white and blue. It moved in a quick circle. An alien sound pierced the night. One of frustration. It peeled off and soared away. Auum nodded his thanks to the god of forest denizens. The mages appeared one after the other, all crouched low, all with mud on their hands. The fear in their eyes was mixed with exhilaration.
“Good work,” said Auum. “Ciisker, what of the door?”
“Elven construction; they have not adapted it nor strengthened it,” she said. “A FlamePalm will melt the workings.”
“Get to it.”
Dila indicated Jaru take the task. Auum assessed the flight patterns. Demon suspicion had been raised. Reavers were gathered almost directly above their position. Behind Auum, the dome of the stone temple rose into the canopy which reached down to embrace it. It was of classic construction. Temples to Shorth contained a wide area for worship beneath the dome and led away down a single corridor to reading cells, private chambers, and the blessed fountain where the dead were cleansed. Hiela, if he really were here, would be at the seat of the temple’s power.
A muffled metallic thump sounded at the door.
“We’re in,” said Jaru.
He edged backward, allowing the TaiGethen access.
“Remember your positions, remember your kill spot. Guard the mages.”
Ciisker placed a hand on the left door and pushed. The merest creak and it moved inward. Inside, the shapes of benches along each side of a short hallway formed from the darkness. There was light spilling beneath a second set of doors. They moved in, closing the outer door behind them. Jaru placed a WardLock on it. In the dome, there was movement. Auum held up a hand.
“Be ready,” he said.
The Tai cell grouped by the left-hand door, the mages in the shadows at their shoulders. Ciisker moved the handle of the right-hand door down and pushed. The door swung inward, light flushing into the hallway. Auum’s heart rate increased, and he used it to drive focus through his mind and muscles. He relaxed, waiting. The sound in the dome ceased. There was a series of chitters and calls. Feet padded toward them. A shadow grew in the doorway: humanoid, wellmuscled, and with a long, loping stride.
A face edged into view. Gray and white swirled across a blue face that writhed and twitched. The creature had dark pools for eyes, flat slits for nostrils and a wide mouth ringed with needle-sharp teeth. It stank of rotting vegetation. A reaver.
Auum flashed across the gap, diving low and grappling the creature’s legs as it took a single pace into the hallway. Ciisker and Rebraal moved as he did, Ciisker at the demon’s arms and chest, Rebraal at its head. Its skull cracked into the doorframe as it went down, stunning it momentarily. It was enough. Rebraal rolled aside, Ciisker dragged one arm away from its body, and Auum plunged a dagger up into the nerve ganglion in its armpit. It quivered and died.
Already the mages were looking into the main worship area. It was empty, its benches and finery long since removed and destroyed. Spells were ready against an attack from the shadows that shrouded the passageway to the blessed fountain.
“Good,” said Auum. “But tread carefully. Miss nothing.”
Moving around the edge of the dome toward the passageway, Auum had to fend off his own anger. It threatened to cloud his mind. Years after so many of his friends had given their lives in an alien dimension far from Balaia to end the war, and still this desecration occurred. Every defaced frieze, every torn canvas and excreta-smeared carving was an insult to their sacrifice and achievement. He wanted so badly to let the fury take him, but brief satisfaction would betray the future. If they were to rid the rain forest of their enemies, elves like Auum had to stay alive. He blinked his eyes to clear an unbidden mist and forced calm on himself.
“Auum?” It was Rebraal.
“Never forget, never forgive, never lose control,” said Auum.
Rebraal placed a hand briefly on his shoulder. Auum focused on the passageway. It was dark though light crept out from cracks around three of five doors. And it was quiet. Still. Like nothing existed there or in the forest surrounding them. It was unsettling.
“Straight to the blessed fountain,” said Auum. “Be quick, be vigilant, be sure. Tai, we move.”
The cell spread across the wide passageway a few paces in front of the mages. Their feet ghosted over the cold stone, their breath clouded in the cool air, their bodies were flickering motes in the darkness. The door to the chamber of the blessed fountain was plain, made from rough-cut timber. A cool blue was edging beneath the door, indicating the fountain’s inner luminescence triggered by the light of torch and brazier.
Auum held up a hand and slowly closed his fingers into a fist. Each of them thought a brief prayer, commending their souls to Yniss. He nodded. Dila’s two mages prepared spells. Ciisker tested the door with the gentlest of pressure. It was not locked, merely latched.
“Disease is within. We will purge it,” said Auum. He took a single pace back.
Ciisker edged the latch up and pushed the door aside. A sparkling, shifting blue light washed out and the sound of the fountain lifted their souls. The two mages stepped into the room, ready to cast. Auum was at their back. There was Hiela, beyond the fountain with his back to them, hovering a foot or so above the ground. His arms were outstretched to either side, legs together, feet pointing down. His skin was a deep, dark blue and his head was completely bald though veins writhed and twisted across his skull. Deep in meditation, he appeared not to have noticed them.
A chill stole across Auum’s back. Something wasn’t right. Yet if this was truly an opportunity to kill Hiela silently, surely they should take it.
“Don’t,” whispered Rebraal. “Cast and run.”
Auum concurred. “Cast.”
FlameOrbs shot away from the hands of the two mages, hissing through the fountain and turning water to steam, crashing into Hiela and the wall behind him. Yellow fire cascaded down as the orbs exploded, eating into flesh, burning and cleansing. And when the afterglow had dimmed, nothing remained.
But Auum felt no sense of satisfaction, and the smiles of the mages faltered when they saw his face.
“This is not victory,” he said.
And in the next moment, the temple filled with demons.
“To me!” shouted Auum. “Rebraal, Ciisker, Dila, to the fountain.”
The elves grouped and ran for the center of the chamber. The demons came from everywhere—floating down from the ceiling, materializing from the walls, walking through the door, ascending through the fountain stream. Dozens of them in a kaleidoscope of color. Powerful reavers, tiny strike-strain, hammer, and spike-limbed karron, and the one master, Hiela. Undamaged. Smiling indulgently. His was a face unbearably human. He even sported a beard in deference to Balaian myth art.
Auum felt the fear growing around him. They were searching for what they had missed. The clue that would have seen them escape the trap. But there was nothing. Nothing but the unsettling quiet of the rain forest.
“Focus,” he said. “We are TaiGethen, we are Al-Arynaar. We are not lost, we are in Shorth’s temple.” His voice calmed them. “Seek the opportunity. Do not let them provoke you. Move as one.”
The demons made no sound as they approached. There was no aura of anger, more of curiosity. They closed to within a few paces. Only Hiela moved nearer, coming to rest before Auum who stood in front of his people. He hovered, hands steepled under his chin. Arms tucked in.
“Well,” he said. “My nemesis. I see you met my double.”
Auum stared back at him, gaze never faltering. Hiela projected fear, but he would not let it affect him. Neither he nor his people could afford a moment’s doubt.
“The great Auum,” said Hiela. “And Rebraal. You should both know how good the souls of your friends taste through the passing of the years. Evunn, Thraun, Ark. Hirad Coldheart.”
“You do not own Hirad. He escaped you even as you reached out your hand to claim him,” said Rebraal, snapping at the bait. “He was like an elf. His soul is strong.”
Auum gestured minutely. Rebraal relaxed.
“We will release them,” said Auum. “And any pleasure you feel will be repaid in pain. Shorth will teach you so much you could never dream.”
Hiela ticked a finger once. “You’re brave, I’ll grant you that. And elven souls are indeed hard to take. But so prized as a result. Elven mages particularly.”
“Prized because you barely taste them,” said Dila.
“Enough,” said Auum.
“Yes,” said Hiela. “It is best that you surrender yourselves respectfully. Dignity at the end.”
“You are confused,” said Auum. “Tual guides us, Yniss protects us. It is you who is alone. And Shorth awaits you.”
Hiela’s expression flickered momentarily with doubt. It was enough.
“Dance,” said Auum.
The TaiGethen blurred. The mages needed time and space to cast. The demons were fast, but Auum saw them as if they moved through water. Hiela had reacted more quickly and was out of reach, but he had left his cohorts badly exposed. Auum’s right hand whipped out, his blade slicing deep into a reaver’s face. He followed it up with a front kick to the midriff. The creature squealed and fell away, wound already healing. Auum’s left hand battered into the body of a strike-strain, sending it spinning into a wall where it clung and shook its head, dazed.
On his flanks, his Tai fought with calm and purpose. The cell moved into the gap they’d forced. Karron were moving up, hammer and spike limbs cocked and ready, mats of sensory hairs over their bodies guiding them. Behind him, flare and detonation. Yellow fire rained down, eating demon flesh. There were screams.
Auum spun, delivering a roundhouse kick to the chest of a karron. The demon roared frustration and swung his hammer limb. Auum saw it coming and swayed back, feeling the rush of air past his face. He was upright and striking in the next heartbeat, blade chopping up into the karron’s face. The demon wailed and lifted its spike to protect itself. Auum switched his blade to his left hand and rammed it up into the exposed armpit. He had turned to defend Dila before the body had hit the ground.
“Ciisker, take our backs. Don’t be drawn out.” Strike-strain were gathering in the rafters above. Twenty or thirty, poised to attack. They were in front of Hiela, who cruised the spaces under the roof, directing his servants. Auum rocked back and kicked out straight into the neck of a reaver threatening Dila. His blade weaved in front of him, cutting and slashing. The wounds might not kill, but demons still felt pain and fear.
“Al-Arynaar, kneel. Dila, target Hiela. Jaru, Geth, area defense castings. Keep the pressure off.”
Auum had the defense the way he wanted it. The mages knelt at three points of the fountain, drawing strength from the flow at their backs. The TaiGethen moved in a circle around them, presenting a shifting barrier.
Hiela had been surprised at the speed and ferocity of the elven assault, but he was reorganizing now. His few karron kept up a frontal assault supported by reavers coming in at head height. Above, strike-strain looked for opportunities to dart in and threaten mage concentration, wear down their belief.
Jaru pushed out a ForceCone, driving a wedge through the demon ranks and pinning two reavers to the back wall of the chamber. He moved it high, left, right, and overhead, sweeping the enemy aside, forcing them to scatter and reform, keeping Hiela on the move. It was a brave casting. It might just force the master demon into Dila’s compass. But it also made him a target. Two karron pressed an attack that Ciisker struggled to repel. A reaver missed tearing out his throat by a whisker, Rebraal’s two-footed kick driving it aside at the last instant.
The former Raven elf landed atop the reaver, seized his chance, and drove his blade into the creature’s armpit as it flailed for purchase. But he was unprepared for the hammer limb of a karron to his left that battered into his arm and chest, flinging him into the base of the fountain.
“Ciisker! Tai down.”
Rebraal’s unconscious body had caught Jaru a glancing blow and disrupted his concentration. The ForceCone dispersed and the demons surged again. A dozen strike-strain poured down.
“Jaru, above you.” Auum’s warning was too late. He tore a huge gash in the flank of a karron, moved left, and swept his leg over Jaru’s kneeling form. Still, six demons struck the Al-Arynaar mage, arcing through the fountain, claws raking shoulders, neck, and head before they cleared back to defend Hiela.
Auum took off, spinning in the air and catching a reaver in the face, sending it tumbling away, wings thrashing to restore its balance. He landed by Jaru, ripping the last strike-strain from his back and tearing an arm from its socket, casting the body aside.
Ciisker forced a moment’s breathing space, her limbs and blade a smear in the air, while Geth had launched a second ForceCone behind them, desperate defense against their open flank.
“Hang on, Jaru. Tual will protect you.”
“Cold,” gasped Jaru.
Auum could see the multiple wounds, blood seeping into his robes and down his face.
“It’s the demon’s touch,” he said. “It will pass. Do not waver. Do not leave your soul vulnerable.”
“They track me,” said Jaru.
“They will fail.”
Auum stood. Strike-strain were coming in again. He stretched his hands and breathed deeply. Behind him, Ciisker’s dance was mesmerizing, her movement too much for the lumbering karron whose limbs were more risk to the reavers around them than the elves in front of them.
The TaiGethen leader stood astride Jaru and within reach of Geth. His gaze relaxed and he widened his perception, identifying the pattern of every strike-strain on its way down.
“Don’t be too long, Dila,” he said.
“I won’t.”
Auum struck out. Left arm up and around, batting a tiny demon aside. Same arm down, fingers crushing into a shoulder, biting into the armpit. One down. Right hand straight out. Punch. Three times, three cleared aside. He felt a rake over the back of his skull, ice spreading across his head. Right arm back. He grabbed his attacker, hurled it into another heading straight for him.
“Remember yourself, Jaru. Stay with me.”
From across his vision a reaver crashed into Ciisker’s unprotected back, dodging Geth’s ForceCone on the way in. The Tai sprawled out of the circle. Karron turned. Spike and hammer limbs fell. Blood sprayed into the air. Demons exulted. Auum felt her passing like a knife in his own chest.
“Dila. Two Tai down. Area solution. Let’s take them with us.”
“Way ahead of you, Auum.”
Auum would be overwhelmed. Demons pressed in on all sides. They chittered and called, sensing victory, sensing the sweet taste of TaiGethen and Al-Arynaar souls. Dila cast, and the atmosphere changed immediately. Light bloomed across the length and breadth of the fountain chamber. Moments later it scattered, forming drops of pure yellow mana fire. HotRain. Everything beneath the deluge would be destroyed. He had not meant it to be this way, but with half of his team down and Hiela still right above them, knowing they would not cast over their own heads, Auum was out of options. He dropped his head and commended all their souls to Yniss, sparing them the eternal touch of pure ice.
He heard the screeches and screams as strike-strain were caught in the torrent, reavers darted for the door and karron panicked, too slow to escape. ClawBound would come with the rededication team, and only then would the TaiGethen know if Hiela had perished.
“SpellShield up.”
Geth’s words were raindrops from a clear sky.
“Yniss bless you,” said Auum.
With the heat of the rain blooming on his skin, Auum grabbed Dila’s armor at the neck and dragged her next to Geth. In the next instant, the rain began peppering the ground, hissing and spitting in the fountain, spitting on Geth’s spell and melting demon flesh.
Dila hauled Jaru’s leg inside the shield, her hands swatting at the flames encasing it. Rebraal, curled motionless around the fountain, was safe from the fires though surely close to death. Ciisker was lost.
Auum searched the chamber. Burning demons’ bodies were falling to the ground. Husks smoldered. Those that survived were crowding the door, their howls of panic bouncing from the walls as they rushed to get out. But of Hiela, there was no sign. Inside the shield bubble, they had respite, but it would be brief. Auum laid a hand on Rebraal’s neck. His pulse was still strong though blood was flowing from inside his armor.
“What can we do?’ said Dila. “They will be back.”
“I—”
Auum’s back crawled. He spun on his heels and rose to his feet. There was Hiela. Scarred but unbowed and flying in hard. Too fast for Auum. The demon caught him by the throat and forced him back against the bowl of the fountain. Auum gasped at the touch. Fear flooded down Hiela’s fingers, threatening to overwhelm him. In the doorway, the few surviving demons turned back. They were unwilling to enter, but their cries had turned to taunts once more.
“Exit solution,” managed Auum. “Dila, Geth, you know what you must do.”
“Auum . . .”
“Do it. Don’t try and approach.”
“And they will leave without you,” hissed Hiela.
All pretense at calm superiority was gone. The master was in pain, and he was furious.
“But you are damaged,” said Auum. His hands grabbed at Hiela’s outstretched arm, but the demon’s strength was extraordinary. It tightened its grip. Auum choked, “We will return, and you will not repel us.”
“Shield down,” said Geth.
Hiela looked over Auum’s shoulder, momentary confusion on his face.
“Immediate extraction,” said Dila, voice faint with concentration on her Communion spell. “Expect enemies at exit point.”
Hiela growled, and his eyes registered his understanding. “Scatter!’ he shouted.
“Too late,” said Auum.
A sheet of light washed across the chamber. A FlameOrb shot away. Auum heard it detonate through the chamber door. Demons screamed.
“Run!” ordered Dila. “Take Jaru.”
Hiela did not move. He focused again on Auum.
“Your friends are running into eternal torment,” he said. “And now you are alone.”
A blade thudded deep into Hiela’s exposed armpit. Rebraal’s pale, agonized face appeared in Auum’s eyeline. Hiela’s eyes widened, he gasped, and his skin rippled through a rainbow of color. Outside, demons howled anguish
“You are mistaken,” said Rebraal. “A TaiGethen is never alone.”
Hiela spasmed and dropped to the floor, releasing Auum, who coughed and wiped a hand across his face. He took a moment to calm his breathing and his pulse. He jabbed Hiela’s body with his foot. The carcass was already decaying.
“Yniss has plans for you, Rebraal,” he said. “You have struck a decisive blow.”
“We need to leave,” said Rebraal.
“We’ll be faster together. Put your arm around my shoulder.”
Rebraal did, wincing. The two of them half ran through the door and down the passage to the main worship chamber. The temple was all but deserted. No karron remained, and inside a handful of strike-strain tracked them from high rafters, not risking an attack.
Auum ignored them, following the trail of the escaping mages. The WardLock had been blown on the main doors and in the rain forest, the sounds of the pursuit were loud in the otherwise still night.
Rebraal was struggling, every footstep accompanied by a grunt of pain.
“Let me carry you,” said Auum.
“No,” said Rebraal. “Too slow.”
Auum nodded and ducked into the welcoming canopy of the forest. Strike-strain were no use here, unable to travel within the shroud. And reavers were forced to run, wings folded away. Auum felt a grim satisfaction. This was elf terrain. And despite Rebraal’s injury, they were gaining.
Driving headlong to the insertion point, they could hear more pursuit behind. Auum muttered a prayer that every vine would tangle them, every root trip them. Ahead, silence fell, and Auum’s heart missed a beat. They were near the clearing. His senses pushed out, searching for threat. Nothing.
He ducked under a branch, and hands were around him, helping him forward. Rebraal was taken from him. A TaiGethen cell stood in the clearing, mages behind. The bodies of three reavers lay at its center. Dila and Geth knelt nearby, tending Jaru.
“Down!”
Auum ducked and rolled. DeathHail roared over his head. Flechettes of ice hammering into the foliage, mana-fueled freezing thorns shredding leaf and branch and flaying the skin from helpless demons. The cries were brief. Shorth took his victims quickly.
The TaiGethen leader came to his feet and looked behind him. The forest was quiet. Above, clouds gathered for the next downpour, he could smell it on the air.
“Good,” he said. “Good. Tual bless you, Geeran.”
He clasped the arm of the Tai who stood before him. Geeran bowed.
“The ClawBound reported before Dila’s Communion. It is an honor to protect you,” he said.
“And now you must work. Hiela is down, but some remain. Cleanse the temple and ward it. The ClawBound will guard it until it can be rededicated. See that Jaru and Rebraal get the attention they need. Jaru is sick. The ice is deep within him. I will not lose him, Geeran.”
“You will not.”
There was a whisper on the wind. Auum glanced up into thickening rain. Al-Arynaar mages landed, eight of them. Auum cocked his head.
“More work?’ he said.
“If you are able,” said one. “The ClawBound have sighted a nest not far from here. A scout operation.”
Auum nodded. “Dila, Geth. With me. In the names of our injured and our fallen, we will not rest this night.”
Al-Arynaar mages stood by him. ShadowWings sprouted at their backs. Auum grasped the carry belts at their waists, and they rose quickly into the roiling sky. The rain was torrential.
“Yniss is angry, and Gyal’s tears fall,” he whispered.
The flight turned to the south and picked up pace, the ClawBound calls echoing, calling them to battle.