GAH! GAH! THIS TOOK SOOOOOOOO LONG TO WRITE! GAH! I'M SORRY!
GAH! GAH! I HAVE MUTILATED MY HAIR! *sobs for hours* I tried to make myself have little wispy thingerbobbers and I ended up with BANGS! GAH!
Okay, let me explain myself before you go on believing I suddenly mutated into a bad writer. I wrote that sentence (come on, people, you know which one - and if you don't, it's the "falling" sentence) wait, lost my place. Okay. I wrote that sentence like that so that you (were supposed to) receive a sense of everything moving too quickly, i.e. running together. Everything is going too fast for Kel to comprehend it, and therefore her brain is working overtime trying to figure it out. HOWEVER, due to the number of complaints I have thrown this idea out the window and plan on uploading a new, readable version of that sentence sometime in the future. Just thought you might like to know.
Wow. I just read the absolute worst story in the history of bad stories. And yes, it was posted. I'm not going to say anything else (in order to protect the crappy writers of the world), but I will say THIS: she/he/it has not reviewed my story, so all you who are reading this, you are safe. Unless you are reading and not reviewing . . .
Hah. I am watching James Bond. He's really cool. Hah. *sobs* MY HAIR!
Righto, then, chappies. Let's go. Long chapter.
Be happy.
Falling Flame
Kel kept climbing upwards out of the labyrinth, placing one hand on top of the other and attempting not to think about everything that could go wrong. Of course, seeing how these things go, the possibilities of problems occurring was the only thing she could think about -- Ichaeruut finding them, not getting to Corus in time, getting killed.
Stop it, she told herself fiercely, and succeeded in shoving those thoughts to the back of her head.
With Byrn floating below Neal, Kel was climbing in blackness. Therefore, as she climbed she rammed her head into the base of the statue, instead of seeing it and stopping her ascent. "Ow!" she cried, rubbing her head.
"What's wrong?" came Neal's worried voice from below her. "Is everything okay? What happened?"
"Everything's fine, Neal," she called down. "I just hit my head on the base of the statue. Byrn, could you get up here?"
With an agreeable whistle, the phoenix rose to join her at the top of the stairs. Kel inspected the lid of the bottom of the statue, and saw no levers or buttons. There were no chinks that she could use to pry it open.
Remembering how the door had originally opened, Kel checked her belt pouch, and sure enough, the Stones were radiating a faint heat she hadn't noticed. She unhooked the pouch from her belt and with one hand raised it to the base of the statue. Once again, all Six flashed once, and the statue base slid backwards, as silent as an owl.
Byrn shot out of the hole as Kel clambered up behind her. Turning, Kel helped Neal onto solid ground. When all three were out of the passage, the statue slid back over the hole, hiding it once more from mortal eyes.
A tight knot in Kel's chest relaxed. She smiled wryly -- she hadn't even noticed she was nervous until she wasn't nervous anymore. Tensed muscles relaxed; her heart slowed down a notch. She straightened, and took in a deep breath. "It's wonderful to be on top of the ground again.
Neal rushed past her, grabbing her hand and dragging her along with him. "Yes, I agree, it is lovely to be above ground, but in case you've forgotten, we're in the middle of a Scanran war camp! Let's go!"
"Right," Kel said as she ran behind him.
The sun was high in the sky, alerting Kel and Neal that it was already mid-afternoon. They quickly reached the gates of Greencroft, and spotted Peachblossom and Topaz tethered along the walls. Kel and Neal bent close to the ground and began to untie them.
Suddenly, twenty torches flared into life in a circle around them, revealing half again as many Scanrans as a shielding spell was dropped. Chuckling sinisterly, an officer stepped forward, flanked by two other officers. "Ainoikx, who did you say you were? Milords Rachni and Tyslt?" Speechless, neither Tortallan answered, and the man continued. "Well, Milords Rachni and Tyslt arrived just inqbdbieie ago. So who baobndpx that make you?"
Grinning, the Scanran drew his sword and advanced, as the others, following his lead, drew the circle closer.
Kel's thoughts raced. It was thirty Scanrans to the two of them, impossible odds. The only option was to run.
"Neal, mount!" she shouted, and swung into Peachblossom's saddle as the Scanrans began to charge. Half in the saddle, she clumsily drew her sword and parried the officer's first blow. "Peachblossom, get us out of here!" she cried, chopping deeply into the man's shoulder. Peachblossom lurched beneath her, and Kel gripped tight with her knees to keep from falling as he took off, away from the attacking Scanrans. Byrn hovered helplessly above the fray.
Kel rode hard, out of the gate and into the open meadows that surrounded Greencroft. She continued for almost fifteen seconds before she realized she was alone. Cursing as she wheeled Peachblossom around, she looked for him in the flurry of motion that was the Scanran camp.
He was mounted, and holding his own against three Scanrans. Why isn't he coming? she asked herself, than discovered the answer. One of his attackers had grabbed Topaz's reins during the attack, and had been killed by Neal. He had fallen at such an angle that he still held fast to Topaz, not allowing her and her rider to leave.
Kel hefted her sword above her head and directed herself towards the melee. She closed in faster than she had escaped.
"Kel!" Neal cried when he saw her. "What are you doing? Get out of here, go!"
"No!" she grunted, trying to lift the dead man. "I won't leave you!"
"You must go! Watch your left!"
Kel whirled to the side, her blade held neck high. A Scanran's head went rolling, blood fountaining from his stump of a neck and covering her.
She shook her head, wet trickles of blood running down her face, and turned grimly to the task at hand.
Kel saw what was wrong. When he died, the man had let go of Topaz's reins, but had fallen in such a way that his arm went inside of them, holding them -- and Topaz's head -- down. Kel saw that there was no way she would be able to move him without dismounting, so she cut off his arm. The dead man fell to the ground with a hollow thunk.
"Go, Neal!" Kel cried. "Mount!" She cut crosswise into an attacker's face and galloped out the gate, neglecting to watch as his nose flew to the ground and blood streamed down disconnected cheeks. Neal swung into his saddle and spurred Topaz to a gallop, following Kel by twenty feet.
Kel, out of the village once more, heard a rapid creaking sound behind her. Sick with fear, she wheeled Peachblossom and faced the gate.
The closed gate.
Neal was nowhere to be seen.
"Gods all damn you!" she cried, her emotion getting the better of her. Frantically, she scanned the village wall for any sign of movement, hearing voices raised in confusion inside.
Suddenly, a flash of fire spewed twenty feet high, higher than the walls by at least seven or eight feet. Voices raised in agony, and against a background of flames, Kel saw the silhouette of a horse and rider jump the wall, followed by a small bird.
Neal hurtled up, gasping. "Silly bastards left the grain shed next to the wall. We jumped atop that, and jumped the fence."
Byrn landed jerkily on Kel's shoulder. Worried, the lady knight turned her head, and was frightened by what she saw.
The immortal, usually laden with rows and rivulets of bright orange fire, now glowed with the light of an ember. Golden eyes closed, the phoenix swayed slightly on her steady perch. She breathed in wheezes, her breath brushing against Kel's ear with an alarmingly soft touch.
"What's wrong with her?" Kel asked, voice higher than normal. "She isn't – she can't be – she's an immortal!"
"I know," Neal answered, worried as well. "But immortals can exhaust themselves with their magic, just as humans can. That last blast must have drained her."
With a feeble trill, Byrn fell off Kel's shoulder. Quick reactions saved her a fall; Neal's hand shot out from his side as he caught the bird in one broad palm.
They stared at her.
Behind them, the village doors swung open, revealing a score of Scanran warriors armed to the teeth and galloping at full force.
Neal swore eloquently as he tucked the immortal inside his shirt and kicked Topaz into a gallop, Kel right beside him. They took off, heading for the thick forest a mile or so away.
Kel chanced a glance behind her, and swallowed hard. The Scanrans pursued them diligently, perhaps thirty seconds behind. They weren't gaining, but neither were they falling back. Kel turned forward again and leaned close to Peachblossom's mane.
Three arrows whistled past them, dangerously close. "Gods all damn!" Neal cried, cradling Byrn with one arm. "They've got bows!" Six more arrows flew by.
"Thank Mithros they can't aim," Kel commented, her breath sounding calmer than she really was.
It seemed as if they spent an eternity riding for their lives. Kel and Neal pushed their mounts harder, feeling muscles bunch under their legs and carry them to safety. Shrieking arrows, a Scanran invention, thudded into the ground erratically, in a more or less constant rain. But the treeline seemed miles off, and it began to appear like they'd never reach relative safety.
Suddenly, they reached the trees. Kel pulled Peachblossom up short. "We can't keep running," she said, gasping.
"I know," Neal said reining in Topaz.
"If we keep going, they'll catch up."
"I know."
"So let's fight."
Neal nodded. Pulling Byrn out of his shirt, he placed her on the highest branch he could reach. The phoenix shivered, eyes closed. Both knights dismounted.
Neal pushed on to other things, unstrapping his bow and quiver, making sure his throwing knives were ready, and readying his sheathed sword for action. Kel gripped her bow so tightly her knuckles grew white, and made sure her throwing stars, axe and sword were all ready for action.
They heard a Scanran speak outside the trees, and for the first time, understood all of what he said. "Dismount! They are hiding in the forest. We know this forest back to front. There is no escape. Remember what Ichaeruut said: we must bring back every item they possess!"
Kel looked at Neal and gulped. Ichaeruut was behind the Scanrans as well. She turned her attention back to the words of the leader.
"–aren't needed, so kill them. Now go! Search, and find!" The Scanrans bounded into the forest and faced the two coldest eyes they ever hoped to see, staring straight at them.
Two Scanrans went down first thing, one with Neal's arrow in his eye, the other with a Yamani throwing star protruding from his skull.
Eighteen left.
Neal's next arrow hit an attacker in his thigh. Gritting his teeth, the Scanran pulled it out. Blood cascaded down his leg but he took no notice. Kel's star was aimed directly for a Scanran head, but he ducked, and behind him, a man went down. Neal hurled one of his daggers, but it clanged off hastily raised shields.
"We're in trouble," Neal muttered.
"First rank! Bows up!"
"Who taught them to fight organized?" Neal wailed. Eight arrows pointed through the slits between shields.
"Neal! Wall, now!" Kel yelled. Neal threw up his hands and muttered a spell. Dark green fire flared around them as eight arrows hit his protective wall and incinerated.
"Switch!"
One of the shield bearers turned his head to ask a question, and Kel aimed at the split second opening. She hurled a throwing star and was rewarded with a gurgling scream. The man fell, leaving an opening where his shield used to be, and two bowmen went down: one with a knife in his chest, the other with a star in his neck. The hole in the ranks was closed before they could get off another shot.
Fourteen men left.
"Second rank, fire!"
Six arrows hurtled towards them, burning up as Neal raised his protective wall again.
"This will never work!" Kel shouted. "They'll just keep shooting at us forever!" Her sharp eyes picked out a movement in the trees off to the side; Byrn had raised her head. She opened her beak.
"Byrn, no!" Kel shrieked, but it was too late.
A piercing whistle came from the bird, and all the Scanran bows burst into flames. Unfortunately, so did the Tortallan bows. All eight bows were dropped hastily. No one noticed a little orange bird fall onto the ground under a tree.
"Draw swords!"
"Can you get that guy?" Kel muttered to her comrade.
"I don't think so," Neal answered. "He's hiding behind his soldiers. It'll be impossible to get to him."
"That's what I thought," Kel replied grimly, making sure her sword was ready. Beside her, Neal did the same.
"Attack!" cried the leader, and thirteen men surged to meet two.
The closest man to Kel came at her at an awkward angle, making it hard for her to use her sword. Instead, Kel snatched two arrows from her quiver, punched them through his throat and yanked them out again. She ignored the twin spurts of blood that shot out from where his arterial tube was punctured, and jabbed the used and bloody arrows into the next man's eyes, dropping them as he fell.
Neal sliced deeply across an unprotected chest, and the man fell quickly, leaving Neal time to parry another soldier's thrust. He then attacked, but was blocked, and the Scanran thrust again, coming hilt to hilt with Neal's blade.
The Tortallan knight quickly freed his right hand from the blade and punched the Scanran. The heel of Neal's palm shoved splinters of a broken nose into the man's brain, killing him instantly. The attacker dropped like a stone.
Ten left.
Kel was fighting two at once, whirling back and forth and trying to keep sight of two blades. Sweat dripped down the side of her face, worrying her – what if it dripped into her eyes?
One of the men left a split second opening, and Kel slid her blade up to slice across his neck, cutting his windpipe. The man fell, gurgling as he died.
Kel's attack had left her vulnerable, and the wave of red hot pain that raced up her arm told her she was wounded. Gritting her teeth, Kel heaved a mighty blow at chest height and cut into her attacker's side, and he fell too.
Neal spun to meet his next assailant, making sure his back was against a tree. The Scanran swung a powerful blow at Neal's head, but he ducked, and the blade cut deeply into the tree. As his attacker struggled to pull it free, Neal ran him through. The man fell, but Neal's blade was stuck, and fell with the Scanran.
Swearing, Neal pushed back his hair and grabbed two daggers from their armpit sheaths. He blocked the next man's thrust on crossed hilts, biting his lip as his pinky finger slipped along his enemy's blade. The Scanran drew back and lunged again, driving his blade towards Neal's heart.
Neal slipped sideways, so his attacker's sword flew past him. Flipping a dagger over, Neal rapped the man on his knuckles, breaking several fingers and making him drop the sword. Neal grabbed the hilt in midair, twisted it around, and stabbed downwards through the man's chest.
Fiery pain streaked across Neal's temple. Unthinkingly, he raised a hand to check the damage and was stabbed through his palm. The stabber twisted the blade, and Neal screamed in agony. The blade withdrew, and Neal cradled his wounded hand, whirling his blade in a protective pattern to keep enemies away.
Kel had lost track of what she was doing. She blocked and thrust and stabbed and parried without a thought, not knowing whether she was killing or being killed. Time moved in waves; was it midnight, noon, somewhere in between? She cut down another Scanran, and readied herself for the next blow.
None came.
Wobbling, Kel focused her eyes. There was nothing around her but dead Scanrans. Looking farther, she saw Neal was backed up against a tree, fending off three assailants. She staggered over and stabbed them in the back, all three, so fast they had no time to react.
Neal looked up, as bone weary as she was, dropping his sword. A long, ugly cut bled sluggishly down the right side of his face. His eyes flickered over her shoulder, and he grabbed for a dagger. Neal hurled it past her left ear, the wind from its passage brushing her cheek.
Kel heard a grunt, and turned around. The Scanran leader slumped to the ground, Neal's dagger in his back.
"He tried to run," Neal explained, gasping with pain.
"Are you–" Kel began, but Neal shook his head.
"Not now. I have to–" He broke off, bending over his left hand. His Gift streamed from his finger, dark green flickers flying to cover his wounded hand. Kel turned away, feeling sick. Before he had hidden his hand, Kel had seen a mass of clotted blood, cut flesh and severed tendons.
Kel wandered around for a quarter hour, pulling her throwing stars out of dead bodies and cleaning them, readying the horses, binding her wound. Even though Neal could probably have healed it, she didn't want to tire him out — he'd be even wearier after healing his mangled hand.
She walked over to a Scanran slumped next to a tree. Eyeing him distastefully, Kel bent over, grabbing the throwing star that protruded from his forehead. Grunting slightly, she attempted to pull it out -- to no avail. She stepped back from the corpse, thinking. Throwing stars were few and far between in Tortall, especially in a time of war. And these were stars that were made in the Yamani Islands — even more valuable. She couldn't just leave it here to rot.
Walking behind the body, Kel looked for something to pry the star out with. She bent close to the ground, hoping to find a stick or a rock of some sort.
Instead, she found Byrn.
Kel gasped and scooped the phoenix into her arms, cradling her close. The small rivulets of fire were all but gone, remaining in just the trickle of flame before a candle goes out. "You can't— You can't—" Kel gasped, bending over the immortal. Byrn shivered, didn't open her eyes, didn't shift position. Kel looked into the sky. "Oh, gods, don't do this! You can't do this right now!"
The worst part for Kel wasn't that the phoenix was dying — it was that she couldn't do anything to stop it from happening.
Using the torn part of her shirt, Kel created a sling that allowed her to use both arms while still carrying the swiftly fading bird close to her body. She then located a stick and used it to pry the star from the Scanran's skull. Wiping it grimly on his clothes, she made her way back to the horses.
Neal walked over, looking the better for the time he spent recovering. Wordlessly, Kel opened her outer shirt and showed him the immortal. Neal shook his head, sadness in his eyes. "I know. I saw. But there's nothing we can do. Mortal healing powers don't work on immortals. But they work on mortals."
He placed a mended left hand on Kel's forehead, closing his eyes. Inside her head, Kel saw a burst of evergreen magic, followed by a coolness that flowed through her, restoring her hurts and her energy.
The stream of Neal's Gift slowed, than stopped. He removed his hand from her forehead and kissed her sweetly. "Let's get going. Today is the day that Corus will fall, and it's already—" He looked up. "Two in the afternoon, or even three. And it's a four-hour ride to Corus."
He swung up into the saddle. Kel did the same, being careful not to jostle her small and rapidly dimming passenger. The two Tortallan knights set off at a brisk trot for Corus, and an end to their quest.
Wow. I must say, this story took a twist I didn't expect. I forgot one important detail. But now I have remembered it, so never fear!
You are all awesome! I love you all! You reviewed so much! Yay! Do it again, and I'll be happier and I'll write faster!