Chapter Two Hundred And Ninety Eight – 298
Light and sound swirled in a mad, unrelenting cacophony. The skin of the world stretched around them, filled with radiance and utter nothingness, extremes that threatened to tear sanity itself from their Minds. All that held them together was a whisper thin glimmer of power, a construct in the vague shape of a ship, wrapped around them like a cocoon.
Without warning or fanfare, they burst from the skin between Realms. Zara's ship of light turned to smoky shadow within seconds of touching the Corporeal Realm, and the Haarguard collapsed to the sodden earth. A scream shook the portal behind them, enough that ears and eyes began to bleed, and Zara made a final effort of Will and Intent. The portal unraveled, also becoming as smoke and then as nothing at all.
Zara fell back into the mud and let the rain wash over her.
When next she awakened, it was to the muffled groans of the guards. The rain still poured, and now she found herself in a shallow pool of mud water and her clothes soaked through. Metal clanked and leather scraped softly against itself as the others shifted or stood. Zara came to her feet, though not without struggle; it felt as if her stomach wanted to turn itself inside out, and her head felt liable to explode if she so much as breathed incorrectly.
A pair of feet tromped through the mud, splashing it carelessly toward her.
"Reed," she whispered, playing gentle with her head.
"Sorcerer," the Hand growled back. "What in Avet's name was all that?"
"An unexpected visitor," she admitted. "A denizen of the Void that found its way into the dark between Realms."
"You speak of the Void again, as if it were true and real. This creature was a monstrosity on par with nothing I've ever faced. Yet I recognized its stink." The Hand stepped closer, his huge body dwarfing Zara's own. Heat steamed from him in the chill rain, and thunder rolled in the distance. "That was a Primordial, Sorcerer. How? How could two Primordials cross our path within a span of months?"
Zara closed her eyes and looked up, letting the cold water sluice some of the grime from her face and hair. "Ill times come for us all, I'm afraid." She peered at the Hand. The man was sporting two cuts across his lips and nose, though they were closing slowly. Perhaps with his advanced Body they'd heal without a trace. Perhaps not. "Worse comes if we do not move."
"So you say," Reed growled.
"So it is," she shot back. "Do you think I'd have risked all that for a paltry threat? Hm?"
Reed grunted and looked away.
"No. I'll not have discontent at my back. If we are to save Haarwatch and everyone associated with it, your ward included, then we will work together." Zara let some of her power sing through her channels, a rhythm that even the Hand could recognize. "Or not at all."
Reed ground his teeth, so loud she could almost hear a molar break, and he nodded before swiftly marching away. She watched him, eyes still bright and Spirit still stoked with irritation.
Fool of a man, you'll have us waste ourselves against one another. Zara checked her senses, extending them as far as she dared. They were close, and she could not detect the redcloaks particular brand of power. "We must all of us move on, quickly. Setoria is but a half day away."
"Half a day's ride?" Kelgan asked. His left side was a mass of bruises from their dangerous journey, though he still held his spear with a sure grip. "We've lost most of our mounts. And that potion...It still addles the others."
He was right, of course. Zara should have addressed that first, but her Mind and Spirit felt muddled. The Long Passage had taxed her more than she had anticipated, especially at the end. "The mounts we can do nothing for, but the potion should wear off in a few glasses."
"And until then?" Thangle asked, somewhat meekly. His beard was matted with mud and rain, and his eyes were rimmed with dark circles.
"Until then, we march. Mount those we can, and we take to the road." Zara's voice was a whipcrack, louder than thunder. "Move!"
Those that could snapped into action, securing their still-drugged allies to avum and pulling the thick cloth blindfolds from the birds. They weren't nearly as frazzled as on shorter jaunts, but Zara could feel their Spirits quail for moments before they recognized the firm earth beneath them. The potion-dazed guards, on the other hand, were as murky as the puddles around them. They merely followed the commands of the others with rote movements and a survival instinct buried in all mortals.
They'll be fine, she reassured herself. The potion was a low dosage. I only fear for the distance we have to cross yet.
They had not emerged where she wanted.
For much of they day and well into night they traveled, having emerged in the early morning. Zara had little clue how many days had passed, or how few, but her senses assured her that Setoria was close and the redcloaks hadn't yet overtaken them.
She extended her senses again, scanning the skies...and breathed a shaky sigh of relief. Zara could sense no lure, nothing drawing the horde to attack. She had to assume it was merely an unfortunately timed side effect of the wards in the Pass being down for months.
"We have to break through," Zara said.
"With what strength?" Reed motioned to the rest of the team, all of whom were collapsed against trucks ten times wide than themselves. "Every one of us is exhausted. Had I not carried these men, I would simply wipe these pests away." Reed panted and mimed a slashing gesture at the horde. "As it is, I'm not sure I could take on all of those Tier II's, let alone the leader."
Neither could the guards atop the wall. Their spells and Skills were proving ineffectual against the toughened hide of the Shrieks, and the Twice-Cursed ignored anything they tried. Zara licked her lips, considering.
"I could...but then I would be spent," she admitted in a low voice. "The crossing cost me more than I care to admit, but this," she sucked in a tight, firm breath. It was time to roll the dice, once more. "This must be done. We must reach the Waystone before the redcloaks. Darius, I will need you to lead them once we're in the city. Stop the signal, stop the Inquisition, by whatever means necessary."
The Hand considered her for a long moment, his Spirit shifting through so many moods it was almost dizzying. In her state, Zara was not amused by his mercurial emotions, but soon thereafter he settled. Solidity reigned through his Aspects, like the stout trunk of an oak. He nodded.
"I will see it done, Sorcerer."
She extracted no Oath, not for such a thing. The Hand knew where his best interests laid, and he would follow their plan for Vess' sake if nothing else. Zara turned back to the horde, and called upon her power.
"Stay back. When the giant falls, make for the gates," she told the guards. The Willful few gave sharp nods of acceptance and stood, reaching over to help their fellows as well.
A song built within her. Outside of her. In everything it was, a Harmony that could not be denied. Zara paced forward, moving further than such simple steps could account for, and rose up into the air. As if a set of invisible stairs had been erected, she climbed higher with every step, and the song rang out all the louder.
Silence fell among the horde and atop the walls, as everyone and everything turned to look at her. Aquamarine liquid surged from her Mana Gates, enveloping her feet and palms in a shimmering fluid that drowned out the cloud-choked sun above them all. The rain itself swirled around her, seized from the skies and forced to spin wildly around her form.
The Twice-Cursed Shriek rounded on her and its massive throat ballooned. Air Mana gathered within its throat, and a massive, ear-shattering howl exploded from between its jaws. The ululation swept its own minions apart, splitting them like grisly logs and hurling grass and sundered earth into the air.
Zara grimaced, pelted with the sonic vibrations. Little else could have threatened her, but the overwhelming sound had, just briefly, drowned out the rarefied vibrations of Creation. A discordance that fought reality itself.
No. I have control. She flared her Intent, gripped hard upon the skein of the Realm, and reminded herself of her purpose. I will save this Continent, whether it likes it or not!
With a desperate cry, Zara spent the last of herself. Her Intent solidified, a howling razor of crystalline power that speared into the Twice-Cursed Shriek's open throat. Harmony sang, and its fevered blood answered.
She ripped it out.
All of it.
"Run! Now!" Reed bellowed.
Kelgan snapped out of his daze enough to see Zara fall from the sky. A sky that was utterly excised of rain.
Instead, it was filled with blood.
"Now people! Push your Bodies or die!" Kelgan shouted, and those few that remained awake stumbled into a loping run. His legs burned and his chest felt afire, but Kelgan didn't stop. Not even when all that blood fell back down onto the fields in a gruesome downpour.
The fields were rough terrain, torn by the giant Shriek's outburst, but of greater concern were the hundreds of lesser Shrieks around them. Yet as their company approached, the Shrieks fled. But not from them.
None had gone near where Zara had landed.
Kelgan could only get a glimpse of the Sorcerer before the Hand picked her up, but it was enough to know she was alive. And then they were at the gate. Kelgan's vision had begun to narrow into a dark tunnel, but he caught snatches of the Hand shouting at the gate guards. And of the doors slowly, agonizingly opening for them.
They had made it.
