Chapter 10 – Condemned Friendship
Tusk
The shimmering waves of cyan faded into nothingness. Zed blinked once, twice, dazed by the brightness, then his eyes grew accustomed to the stark grays and blacks of Tusk.
He stood silent for a moment, the memories surging through his mind, then shook his head to dispel the thoughts and turned to Roia. "Why were you at the council chamber, anyway?"
"I followed you," answered Roia innocently.
"And Jimu's whereabouts?"
"Well, it seemed logical. Jimoto closed their borders to Tusk soon after Tusker was destroyed—it seems they don't want a repeat of Tusker's rebirth, especially not in their own country—and there is no way that they would allow Jimu, royalty or not, into their lands."
"He was wearing Jimotan-forged armor," Zed pointed out.
"A disguise, maybe," said Roia smoothly.
Zed didn't hear this last defiant remark. Quietly, he pressed his back to the sheer wall of rock and peered cautiously around its corner. Sebastian unsheathed his sword, and Sagiri clung nervously to Roia's hand.
Around the bend, a small group of Tusk soldiers were marching steadily toward them, their footsteps thunderous against the silent stone and their weapons drawn.
Zed ducked his head back into the refuge of the shadowy cliff and held up four fingers. Roia and Sebastian nodded in understanding, and their own blades flicked out from the shard-imbedded hilts.
Zed waited until one soldier was perilously close—then unsheathed his sword and slammed the pommel hard into the man's head. He crumpled to the ground, already unconscious. Roia leapt into action, her twin daggers slashing in unison, carving a bloody "X" on another soldier's throat. Sebastian deflected a vicious slash from the third soldier's sword, and then swung his own mighty blade in a curving arc, nearly cleaving the man in two.
The last soldier, however, merely stood and laughed.
"What's so damn funny?" snapped Zed, leveling his sword at the man's throat.
"Why, Zed…threatening your own friend with such a crude weapon?"
"What—…"
The soldier's uniform blurred, then burned away. The shoulder plating softened, sagging downward and forming a dark cloak, draping around a blood-red suit of chain mail. His face flexed and warped, the features tightening at the corners, the nose sharpening, forming a face that Zed knew so well.
An illusion shard dropped from Noa's left hand.
Around them, the corpses rose and underwent a similar metamorphosis. Roia gasped and backed away in horror. "Spirit eaters," she whispered.
Noa sneered, then pulled out his own blade.
"It's been far too long, Zed."