Disclaimer: I do not own anything you've seen in The Immortals. I do, however, own everything else, most notably Zircah Bladewing, Qur'an, Jakaal, and the extrapolated sections of this text.
A/N: Better be ready to read this one – it's LONG. Oh. And close your eyes, Wyrren. :( I was very tempted to put the famous "Why do you plague me?" in this chapter. I did not. I do not plagiarise. Go me. :P
Chapter Ten: Feeding Weakness
"He's what?" Zircah raged. Qur'an shrugged nervously, green eyes bright with fear. The male's strangely blue-black hair was bound in a warrior's queue at the nape of his neck. His normally pale skin was even paler as he tried to subtly edge away from the plainly furious female in front of him.
"Lord Rikash transferred those at the North Fortress to the South Fortress and vice versa... he thought we would be more likely to pay attention to unfamiliar territory." Qur'an repeated, plainly confused. "If you don't mind my asking, Lady Zircah, why weren't you informed?"
Zircah liked Qur'an. He was polite, often to the point of reverence, quiet and clever. However, right at this moment she was facing a long flight in a hurry and was not feeling particularly patient. "Because I was half dead in the middle of a forest, you plebeian buffoon!" She lied in a low snarl. Qur'an cringed timidly away from her, luminous eyes closing as he anticipated a blow. There was a rush of wind as Zircah took off, swearing more filthily than anyone Qur'an had ever heard. He peered after her into the sky and squinted as the sun's rays reflected with dazzling beauty to leave purple and bright green sunspots in the centre of his field of vision.
Several hours later she was nearly at the Southern Fort, feeling very tired and rather pissed off. Though joyously hailed by several of the hurroks who had sustained injury in their clash with Rikash's posse, no one else seemed to notice her arrival. She ignored the hurroks as politely as possible in order to conserve every ounce of her fury for the Stormwing who had made it necessary for her to fly for four wasted hours.
She could sense Stormwings in the mews, those who did not yet have to patrol the southern end of the valley. As she passed over the hurrok sables, she plunged out of the sky, swooping down into the roost and making those waiting inside shriek with surprise. Zircah looked around angrily, but the only blond she found in the structure was a female from Jakaal's flock. Oh, fantastic. I hurry back so he won't go mad fretting, and the blond bird-brain isn't even here!
"Lady Zircah! Where have you been?" Jakaal's voice was demanding. Zircah looked into the liquid black eyes and felt the rage drain from her as though somewhere a switch had been flicked. Suddenly she was just tired.
"I... went looking for the ogre in the rain and I Saw... I crashed, and the trance lasted a long time..." She lied, stomach twisting.
"Moonsword sent the hurroks to look for you..." he winced at the noise the horse-like immortals were making. "They're been kicking up that racket for hours."
-- We haven't. -- A hurrok retorted. Zircah smiled and quieted them with her mind. "They could sense me coming."
"Why couldn't they find you while you were in the forest?" Jakaal asked curiously.
"Actually, that's more likely than it's not." Zircah fibbed inanely. "I was unconscious for a start, and melded with Shakith because She gives me the Sight... you understand?" Jakaal shrugged and nodded. Zircah congratulated herself on the speed and believability of her fabrication.
"A good thing you're back," he said. "I've been promoted to Moonsword's little helper. The less time I spend around him the better."
Zircah grinned wearily. "Where is bone-head, anyway? I have yet to mock him for running from the hurroks."
"Gone on an errand for the mage... something about a Captain Blackthorn." Jakaal shrugged. "He mightn't come back at all, if we're lucky."
"Yes." Zircah agreed, slightly deflated. For some reason she had really wanted to make sure that he knew she was really vexed with him. The hurroks clamoured for her attention and she gave way to another tired smile. "I'm going to see the hurroks. Then I'm going to sleep. If anyone has a problem, tell them I can see that they die much less painfully when I wake up of my own will than if they try to get me up beforehand."
Jakaal grinned a touch nervously. "Right."
Zircah gifted him with the most charming smile she could muster and walked to the stables rather than risk humiliation in trying to use her all but lifeless wings. Thr hurroks whinnied greetings as well as assailing her mind with news of all she had missed. A mare butted gently at her shoulder to get her attention.
-- This place reeks of that mortal's magic, and the Gift of the others. Two days now has the scent of death wafted upon the breeze. Sister, something is happening, and we cannot prevent it. Nor can we protect ourselves, -- she added, clawing at her collar emphatically. Zircah nodded.
I am trying, she sent sadly. I won't let death come easy upon you - after all, you have yet to have your way with the Gifted mortals. And we would not want them to escape the punishment they so richly deserve, now, would we? The hurroks neighed their amusement. Zircah propelled herself up into the rafters, careful not to clip the thatching with her wings. Wake me if someone comes.
-- We will. -- The mare promised. Zircah's head dropped forward, the feathers in her hair a-jangle. She slept.
***
"BLADEWING!"
Zircah opened her eyes instantly and swore at the proximity of Rikash Moonsword. His green eyes glittered darkly with fury, his hair hung in grimy golden rats tails about his face. The bleached bones that adorned it glistened starkly. He looked as though he, too, had flown many miles to be disappointed.
"Where have you been?" They demanded acidly at the same moment, glaring at each other furiously as though to demand the other explain first. For perhaps the first time in history, Zircah relented first.
"I was unconscious in the middle of a forest." She snapped, tossing her head to hide a yawn. Rikash's expression softened ever so slightly, enough for her to give him a pointed look.
"I was discussing and reviewing strategy with Captain Blackthorn, the leader of mortal infantry Tristan's hired..." Rikash informed her briskly, imitating her haughty manner with some of his old annoying mimicry. "He doesn't seem pleased to be working with mages, let alone immortals." He gave her a quick, searching look. "What happened to you that you were unconscious so long? I would have expected you to waken sooner than others..."
"I Saw." Zircah replied flatly, inviting no further questions on the subject. Rikash got the point and changed the topic of conversation.
"Blackthorn wants us to harry troops that are being sent here from the south. And several will guard supplies and act as sentries for him..." Rikash frowned, looking for all the world like a troubled tax-payer with a headache. He straightened and began to tell her their strategy from the beginning, imitating what must have been Blackthorn's rather toffy accent. "A group of harriers will be dispatched to wait for the Tortallan infantry. A minimal amount of out Stormwings are to act as sentries for Blackthorn. A third of those remaining will patrol the valley with the hurroks as usual, while the rest of the Stormwings will carry out irregular strikes on the mages grouped at the Western Pass."
Zircah's lips were pursed in disapproval. "Still more fighting... are we not harriers only? What we gain here is publicity and sustenance, but it will be far less than that if many among our number are killed in our efforts!" She scolded. Rikash nodded, a strange expression in his eyes.
"I know. I'm not exactly thrilled about it, myself. And, do you want to know the worst part? They have no contingency plan."
"They what?" Zircah couldn't believe her ears.
"You heard. This bloodrain Tristan's devised will cause enough devastation, but not a one of them has considered the consequences of any of this going wrong."
"Bloodrain?" The name made icy fingers run down her spine. Rikash looked disgusted.
"Some potion they've made... they're going to put it in the lake and hope it carries downstream to the Tortallan forces that are on their way. Everything that uses the lake or river water will rot."
"No... they can't..." Zircah reeled with shock and horror. "The creatures of the valley... the plants, the People!" Rikash had never seen Zircah quite so unnerved. It worried him. It made him feel as though he should be even more worried than he already was. What sort of idiots had no contingency plan, anyway? And the bloodrain... he feared for Maura's safety, but bit his tongue before mentioning it aloud. It couldn't help matters, and he could be certain that the child got the message. He watched as Zircah gathered herself slowly, a slight smirk forming on his face as her usual indifference reshaped her features; ice-smooth and deadly.
"Well, I suppose you ought to speak to everyone else, and those at the North Fort." She said calmly. Rikash's smirk widened.
"Ten steps ahead of you. Jakaal conveniently forgot to mention you were back until after I'd informed everyone and sent the harriers on their way. I've organised groups already - you get to carry out attacks on the mages with me."
Zircah was briefly astonished that he had managed to think this far ahead. Bowing her head, she growled, "What did you wake me for, then?" Rikash merely smiled briefly, shrugged, and dropped to glide smoothly out of the hurrok stables, leaving Zircah to talk sulky threats with the hurroks.
***
It was past dawn the next day and Zircah was closing uneasily on the Western Pass, as far as her patrol would allow her. Rikash would summon her for their surprise attacks on those on the other side of the barrier, but she still had no idea of what Daine needed her to do. It was with considerable relief that she felt Tkaa at the edge of her mind's reach. Basilisk! Where are you? Is Veralidaine near?
-- Zircah? -- The basilisk sounded surprised. -- We are beyond the barrier. Quickmunch, a marmot, is acting as a vessel for Daine's mind. --
I cannot come there in person. Please ask Daine what I am to do. Swiftly she relayed all the plans she had been told, and was surprised to learn that Daine had learned of the bloodrain, herself. Struck by an idea, she filtered through the panoply of mind signatures until she found Daine's and tried to speak to her directly. Daine? She felt surprise and a marmot's shocked squeak.
Zircah? Daine ventured cautiously. Why can you speak to me? The other Stormwings couldn't...
I have the same magic as you do. Tell me your plans so that I may lay my own and actually be of some use to you. Zircah could only spend so long in this area before someone became suspicious.
Tkaa is going to the South Fort with Maura, Tait and the dogs to kick up a fuss. Iakoju will be going back to the mining camp to make her people rebel, along with the help of the wolves. Make sure you stay out of Maura's way, if you're near the south... the smoke might cause trouble for you in the air.
Zircah's lips curled back in an amused grin, flashing silver teeth to the world at large. And you, dearie?
I'm going to destroy the barrier with Kitten.
Good. It's very annoying. When do the fireworks start?
Three hours past dawn.
Ooh, goodie. You're prepared to deal with the mages, Stormwings and hurroks, I hope? There are roughly two dozen Stormwings at either end of the valley, only half a dozen hurroks in the south. I'll be in the south, so I'll tell the hurroks to be as disobedient as possible if the mages call on them for transport. I can probably keep an eye on Tkaa, Maura and Tait and let the basilisk know what his best options would be.
Great. Daine sounded tired. Thank you, Zircah.
Oh, don't go soppy on me! Zircah complained. Keep Skysong safe. I must continue my patrol. To Tkaa she added, Tell the mages to expect Stormwing attack. One thing, though... make sure none of them hit me!
-- Something tells me you would not allow them to do so in the first place. -- He answered wryly.
Someone's a clever lizard, then, isn't he? She retorted snidely before her contact with the group faded. "Graveyard Hag's luck on us all." She muttered to herself.
It was a long, boring glide back to the South Fort, but she did pass Rikash, Jakaal and Aveil on her way. Rikash rolled lazily in greeting. Zircah nodded curtly in return and veered closer.
"No plans yet, Moonsword?" She asked in a polite drawl. Rikash shook his head, braids a-clatter.
"We're going with dusk, or when those cloud banks move over through the pass." He replied. Zircah nodded again and banked to get back on her original heading. It was a good idea. They could fly above the clouds until they were right on top of the mages and then drop from the skies loosing bolts of magic. The strongest among them could carry rocks or metal spikes to shower the mages with. Zircah realised belatedly that she was planning for the wrong side. She spent the next hour or so wondering how to warn the mages. As she passed over a small clearing filled with voles and rodent-folk (who scattered as soon as they felt her shadow) she smiled. The marmot. Quickmunch could point in the direction they were coming from, and the mages would trust her because of her affiliation with Daine. It would all depend on timing, though... timing and how high up Rikash planned to lead them above the clouds before they dropped. She frowned, circling the Stormwing roost thoughtfully. Late afternoon, and a light breeze from the east... it would be dusk by the time the cloudbank made it to the Western Pass. She grit her teeth as she dropped to land in the roost and discovered several new Stormwings who had obviously just arrived.
"Who are you?" She demanded. One of them, a male with gingerish stubble, glared at her.
"Who are you?" He retorted. Zircah's face became as cold as the gaze of an ice statue.
"Watch your tongue, stranger, or I will cut it out for you. I am Zircah Bladewing, highest ranking Stormwing in Stone Tree nation." She did not bother to exclude Jokhun, nor Rikash from this statement. "Name yourselves."
They did: Marit, Leckar and Indor of Mortal Fear. Leckar was as stupid as Indor was beautiful. Marit was quite sweet for a Stormwing, but had a nasty collection of battle scars. Her feathers were notched harshly from what Zircah assumed to be near unchallenged defeat. She looked down her nose at them. "I suppose Ozorne has sent you to whine at us for his opals?" She asked icily. Indor nodded sharply, a derisive smirk lighting pale violet eyes.
"Go find something to do." Zircah told the trio contemptuously. "I hold no interest in the whining of a mortal mage." She glared at them until they went away.
*
The cry came up from outside the mews, taken up by Rikash and Jakaal alike. All looked forward to revenge on the mage with the onion spell. Zircah fluffed her feathers and settled them again, spreading her wings with an evil smile affixed to her face. She felt sick. She hoped Quickmunch could reach the mages with a message before they reached the Western Pass.
She took to the sky with a loud whoop full of affected bloodlust, soaring swiftly to her place at the front of the flock. She was astonished to see that many of her flock mates already held large chunks of rock, the heads of flails and maces and, indeed, swords. Her surprise faded when she asked about their apparent intelligence and was informed that Rikash had come up with this, too.
You must be pleased with yourself, to have come up with all of this without me." She told him. Rikash rolled his eyes.
"Too weak to carry something yourself, Bladewing?" He retorted good-naturedly. He was rewarded with an indignant shriek and Zircah plucking him out of the air. Ten minutes later she was regretting the effort as her wings warned her with stabs of pain between numbness that she was never to use them again. The flock flew in silent anticipation and a touch of fear. Several of those most eager to battle had, in fact, dropped back to fly in the lee of their comrades.
To take her mind off the pain, she quested out ahead of them, wondering how far away Quickmunch was. As she neared the pass, she reached frantically after every spark of life, but it was not until they had nearly reached the cloud bank that the tendril of awareness touched Quickmunch.
Daine? The marmot inquired, nose working overtime. No, you feel different.
I am Zircah, a friend of Daine's. I need you to find the tall mage and lift a paw to the sky until he understands we are coming.
How will I know when he understands? The marmot grumbled as she darted out of her burrow and began a cautious descent to the place where the mortals were camped.
I'll stay with you, Zircah promised. Quickmunch seemed to accept this, for she fell silent and made her scurrying way to where the stork man stood. Numair had seen her coming and crouched as Zircah prompted Quickmunch to bark in greeting.
"Daine?" Numair asked, concern in his deep voice. Quickmunch shook her head. "Quickmunch, then?"
The marmot nodded stiffly and pointed emphatically at the sky. Numair glanced up at the clouds and back at the marmot, puzzled. "Rain?" He guessed. Quickmunch squawked in annoyance and pointed again. A look of dawning realisation came over the mage's face and he muttered, "Are the Stormwings on the way?" Quickmunch barked again. He thanked her, gave her the rest of the biscuit he had been eating, and hurried away to speak with the other twoleggers.
My thanks, Quickmunch. You may wish to stay here, as I might need your help again soon.
Better to be in a safe burrow and have to dash. The marmot decided as she finished off the biscuit. Zircah left the marmot on her way back to her burrow. She steadied her flight – seeing through the marmot's eyes as well as her own had made her clumsy in the air. She flapped her tired wings once, twice, and glided through the dampness of the clouds. She hoped this would work.
Zircah couldn't see whether the soldiers were prepared or not as they waited in the clouds. She stifled a cough as she breathed the clouds through her mouth. They had been strictly warned not to use any active magic until they were very obviously there, but what she wouldn't have given to use a filtering spell of some sort to make it easier to breathe.
Rikash had divided them into groups of four. They would plunge out of the clouds in waves, drop their baggage and retreat to rearm themselves or use magic from the clouds. She heard a muffled "Go!" from Rikash and nothing until yells filtered through the stifling layer of clouds. Zircah plunged, damp hair plastered in a black and silver shield to her back and down her breasts. She let out a scream of challenge in place of the glee that struggled to escape. The phalanx of soldiers stood at attention with their shields and weapons high. A glimmering barrier of black and violet magic spread above the heads of the soldiers. Already the stones and blades of the Stormwings were collecting on the barrier, some sliding across its surface to clatter to the bare ground.
Archers in the trees let fly and a Stormwing screamed as he dropped into the barrier. It flickered as he struggled, and he sank slowly through, where the waiting soldiers made quick work of him. Enraged despite herself that one of their number had been slain, Zircah raised her wings and struck the shield with bolts of green magic. Birds that should have been scared away by the battle streamed from the trees at her inadvertent demand for assistance, flying in a thick, confusing swarm about the soldiers. Still the archers shot and several more Stormwings spiralled down to slam into the ground. A tall knight raised a hand and added his own magic to the barrier, and Rikash yelled an order to retreat and the red-laced gold of regular Stormwing magic was reflected back at them, ripping past (and through) their number in a searing wave. They wheeled and passed through the barrier, cursing blackly as the soldiers cheered.
They settled in the trees near a stream, charred, sooty and annoyed. Several had arrow wounds, others burns. Zircah looked around her with a sigh. Rikash landed on the branch above her and she scowled. "I suppose you want everyone Healed?" She demanded. Rikash shook her head.
"I thought you used up too much of your energy when you Healed other Stormwings?" He replied, eyebrows raised. "I've no death wish, to force you to Heal as Jokhun does." He looked around at the flock. "However, if you can, it would help our next assault greatly." He shrugged as though it did not matter greatly.
Zircah stared at him in surprise and looked around at her flock mates. A slow anger built at the number of their wounded because of Tristan's orders. "Well, there aren't so many…" She muttered to herself. "…I suppose it would hurt to Heal some of them…" She dropped to where a Stormwing was leaning heavily against a tree trunk and started work.
They kept the mages awake all night, attacking from the sky, from the trees and scorching the ground with their magic. Quickmunch could only help so much at night, so several times the company of soldiers was caught off-guard. By morning, Zircah was exhausted from both her efforts at play-fighting and from Healing those less able than herself between assaults. Finally, when the darkness was fading and the clouds were gone, they flew back to the south fort. Zircah tried to sleep, but she was far too tired and jumpy to let her mind relax. Rikash left the mews an hour after dawn, evidently sick of being around the fitfully sleeping Stormwings. Zircah followed soon after, circling the fort and grinning to herself as she sensed Tkaa approaching the northern gate. Flying above, she could easily see the basilisk, along with the two humans and the pack of dogs.
You'll need better cover than that once the others are on the wings, basilisk, no matter how stupid you think they are! She taunted. Tkaa soon found her in the sky and said something to his companions. They moved out of sight.
How will you get the Stormwings to gather near the store rooms so that Maura and Tait may do some damage to them? Tkaa inquired.
You'll have to be the bait, dear basilisk. I've no ingenious ideas for this battle. What does Maura need me to do? There was a pause.
She wants you to get your friends all around the storerooms, at the windows if you must.
Zircah frowned as she circled the fortress. Has Tait a bow? Or do you plan to take out many with your stone song, basilisk? Foreboding flooded her briefly in a choking wave of grief and fear.
Maura says to trust her.
I hate it when people say that. It's even worse than saying "It's can't get any worse." Zircah complained. It just makes the gods determined to prove you wrong… She looked around surreptitiously as a bell rang for the second hour. You need to enter the fortress soon, Tkaa. The Stormwings will fly soon.
We are working on it. Tkaa answered enigmatically. Zircah left them to it, choosing to wait a while before she shook her flock mates out of the mews. After a night such as they had had, she wasn't going to risk her neck unnecessarily. In blind, sleepy grumpiness, one of them might get lucky.
She spotted Rikash working his way back to the fortress, feathers glinting in the morning light. She drifted lazily toward him, but did not even receive a glance until she rolled purposefully in the air. He looked at her tiredly and made a slight motion with one of his talons. He looked about as exhausted as she felt.
"Missing your beauty sleep, Moonsword?" She teased. Rikash's lips tightened. He made a noncommittal grunt.
"Are the others awake yet?" His speech was slightly slurry. Zircah hid a smile. He really was tired.
"No. I didn't care to wake them and have thirty irritable Stormwings leap for my throat." She sniffed, tossing her hair. "Something tells me they'll wake up soon, though." She ignored the blonde's puzzled look and set a glide for the mews.
Rikash set about waking everyone up, leaving Zircah free to prod Tkaa, Maura and Tait into action. We'll be in the air soon. Tkaa, you'd best tell Maura to find something to set alight!
She already has. Follow the screams to the store rooms and surround the building. It will sound as though I am inside. Tell your people to… er, man the windows.
Shall do. Zircah affirmed cheerfully. She was more than happy to destroy Tristan's plans. Be safe, and Graveyard Hag's luck.
Now why is that not reassuring? Tkaa pondered. Zircah stifled a giggle, earning herself a strange look or two. Rikash had just sent half a dozen Stormwings off on their shortened patrols when a panic-stricken boy skidded to a halt outside the mews.
"B-basilisk in the fortress!" he cried, doubled over. "The captain says – to deal with it!"
Rikash made a sound of annoyance. "How in Mithros' name did it get here? No matter. Let's go kill it. Then we can go back to sleep." This was met with a weary murmur of approval as they took to the sky. Jakaal was the first into the air after Rikash, while Zircah hung back, afraid for a reason she didn't know. As she rose into the air, she heard the unearthly rumble of a stone song. Yells followed it, and the Stormwings around her surged forward to attack the other immortal. Tkaa dropped two of the Mortal Fear Stormwings, leaving Leckar to shriek in rage alone. The stone Stormwings crashed down atop the barracks, destroying the log walls as they shattered. Tkaa hissed something foul in his own language and galloped across a small square to leap and slam through the thatched roof of a large building. Zircah recognised her cue.
"The windows!" She screamed, loud enough for half the valley to hear. "Cast through the windows!" Silver wings of a dozen Stormwings tilted to drop down to the windows of what was apparently a store room. Several things happened at once.
The doors to the store room burst open and Rikash yelled in surprise as Maura tore out of the building, Tait and a pack of dogs hot on her heels. Wisps of smoke trailed them as they dove for cover.
A sound like the biggest bell in history rocked the valley as Numair struck the Barrier with his Gift.
And Zircah was thrown top over tea-kettle through the air as the store room exploded in an immense ball of fire and think, choking black smoke.
She shrieked in exhilaration, calling orders before Rikash could think of them to send hurrok and Stormwing alike for the aid of the mages. She ignored the ash that clung to her in favour of calling to the hurroks and asking them to be as obstinate for the mages as possible.
And then a horrible feeling overtook her. Her guts twisted themselves into knots as a strange silence filled her ears. Suddenly she couldn't breathe. The black smoke still billowed; there was no hope of her seeing the ground. But she didn't want to see it. She didn't want to see what she already knew would lie there. She didn't need to see the burnt and blackened bodies to know.
"Bladewing! Bladewing, you have to manage the hurroks!" Rikash was yelling for her. He stopped abruptly in mid-order as she turned dead eyes on him, a look of repressed horror coming over his face. "…what-?"
The strange silence had not ended. She heard the words spoken in a calm voice she could not believe was her own. "He's dead." It said, so softly Rikash could barely understand in the midst of the chaos. "Jakaal is dead."
*
The rest of the battle passed in a blur, for she ignored it all. She flew away from it, as deep as she could into the forest. The People reached out for her mind, enveloping her in their sensible reassurance that all was not lost. Alone and yet not in the woods, she began to cry.
*
A shadow fell across her and the tingle of an empathic mind reached weakly for her own. She looked up to see a silhouette outlined by bright silver against the sun. As she turned her tear-stained face from the other Stormwing in shame, Rikash descended to land near her. His weight made the branch rock.
"What do you want, Moonsword?" She tried to demand, but her voice was rough and hoarse with grief. He cleared his throat, plainly uncomfortable, and looked at the ground.
"I came to find you." He answered, voice smooth and yet slightly ashamed. "I tire of this battle; we fly to Carthak so the Emperor may return us. Tristan's battle cannot be won."
"He will not miss one Stormwing, no more than he will miss those who died. Leave me." Her throat closed over and she made a choked sound in her throat. Rikash looked back at her, green eyes striving to catch hers.
"Will you think me cold if I say that I will not miss him?" He asked her softly. "I do not, and cannot grieve as you do, you who is connected to all things."
"Prophetic words, Moonsword. Perhaps you were meant to lead in this, not I." Zircah answered dully, silently hurt by the frankness of his statement. "If that is so, lead well… and leave me be."
"I will not." Rikash answered with steel in his voice. "However, I shall blame our lateness on you, Bladewing." The attempt at levity was lost on her.
"Do as you will, Moonsword, but let me be." Zircah snarled, fed up with the blond male. She sank her fangs through her lip to hold back a sob of frustration, spat the blood at him to make her point. Rikash did not so much as flinch, allowing the silver liquid to run down his chest. Zircah looked away, furious with both him and herself.
Good. Rikash thought approvingly. Be angry, be murderous, go kill something, but for the gods' sakes, don't be lost.
Why cannot he just leave me alone? Zircah raged inside her own head. Does the pompous idiot not understand? She scarcely noticed the hopelessness slowly evaporating in the heat of her fury. I will follow to Carthak and to the Divine Realms when I am prepared! It is not as though he must watch over me as though I am some pitiable invalid!
Rikash had returned to the higher branches of the elm, deciding that if Zircah did try to kill him, he wanted to have some more room to work with. Not that it would matter much, really, he thought ruefully, eyeing the scar that marked his chest. He heard a sudden rush of wings from behind him and spun, wings up to block an attack. Instead Zircah glared at him.
"Well? Are we going back to Stonemaze or not?" She demanded icily. Rikash lowered his wings slightly in surprise.
"Then… you are coming with me?" He asked, strangely reassured by the familiar cold gleam of irritation in her eyes.
"No." She replied sarcastically. "I'm going the other way to escape your idiocy. How in the Goddess' name would you idiots survive without me? And Shakith is not finished with me yet. Do not think yourself so high that it is you I return for, Moonsword, for the Goddess of Seers is far above any priority you might hold."
Rikash only grinned. "Nice to have you back, Bladewing. Must we delay further for you to farewell your equine friends, or may we proceed?" He nodded towards the few surviving hurroks on the horizon. Zircah turned, flipped her tail at him and flew off, back to where the Stormwings were milling. Rikash followed, shaking his head, a grin still in place. Now for the mages.
*
[A/N: ARGH! IT JUST WON'T END! T_T]
"Lord Rikash!" The flock slowed as Rikash looked down at Daine. He sneered with displeasure at the crossbow aimed at him for the second time. There was a crackle of mage fire as Numair sent a spell Tristan's way.
"I should have seen it would come to this," he observed with wry good humour laced with steel. "What do you want?"
Zircah noted Daine's nervousness. I will stop them from killing you if I can. She informed the girl dourly. Daine gulped.
"I'd like to stop this bloodshed, I think." She said, and cleared her throat to banish the tremble of anxiety. "You'n me have no quarrel here – not really. We don't like each other, but you can't go killing everyone you don't like. Isn't that so?"
It was very hard for Rikash to disagree outright while in Daine's sights. "Your rustic philosophy amuses me. Go on."
"Kill the ground-pounding bitch!" Ludahn gasped eagerly. She was rewarded with a look of venom from Zircah and a harsh command to silence from Rikash.
"Maybe you've heard of my aim." Daine said, her voice soft. "I don't miss often. I put out Queen Zhaneh Bitterclaws' eye, in case you hadn't heard. That was before she pushed me into killing her."
"But that shot was made with a longbow." Rikash pointed out calmly, as though he were still considering attempting to slay her. Maura would never forgive him. And there was a queer cold spot on his back that told him Zircah might not like him very much if he killed this girl. Zircah very often did kill everyone she didn't like.
"I'm as good with a crossbow. At this range, it's like shooting fish in a barrel. I'm willing to negotiate, though. Since you're a friend of Maura's."
Clever girl to exploit his weaknesses like that, Zircah approved silkily. A smile tugged at Daine's mouth.
"You boast! Crossbows have no range, fifty feet at best. Don't they?" It was Leckar of Mortal Fear. Zircah nearly fell out of the sky, so amused was she at his stupidity. Rikash gave a theatrical sigh and shrugged at Daine.
"He's new from the Divine Realms. He thinks humans run screaming at the sight of us." His bland expression just begged the girl to prove Leckar wrong. There was a flit, a chink and Daine's bow was redrawn again as one of Leckar's feathers hit the water of the lake.
"I've a two hundred yard range on this. Care to try me?"
Rikash watched Daine for a long time. Zircah could tell he was struggling with another grin. "I am not as old as Zhaneh Bitterclaws was – not as crafty or as powerful –" Zircah snorted. "-but I believe I may be wiser. Let's go, my friends. We must tell the emperor to expect no more Dunlath opals." He shook his head as they prepared to fly south. "I suppose we're both losing our minds. Please tell Maura I said goodbye and good luck."
From me, also. Zircah added. Rikash glided to get himself moving, then turned south. Zircah moved to follow when Ludahn shrieked "No!" and toward Daine, wings carefully angled to blind the archer. Automatically Zircah pressed her mind to Daine's. Use my eyes. She insisted. Daine's aim was barely even unsteady, despite the sudden change in perspective. Ludahn sank bubbling beneath the lake as Leckar slammed into a wall. Daine spent a split-second admiring Zircah's vision before the Stormwing pushed her gently away. Immediately Daine began to reload, but Zircah and the rest turned to follow Rikash back to Carthak.
Zircah flew fast to catch up with Rikash, settling herself in his jet stream. She wasn't particularly happy about going back to see the person most responsible for Jakaal's death. As she thought about it, tears of anger and pain rose in her eyes. The cloudy sky chose that moment to release the tears of the Goddess – torrents of rain poured down on the Stormwings to make their journey even more difficult. She let out a choked sob that was more than half a laugh at how unfair it all seemed.
Rikash looked back at the sound and looked abruptly forward again before his glance was noticed and he was removed. "You know the best thing about rain, Bladewing?" He asked conversationally. Zircah made a disinterested sound, hoping he wouldn't choose now to resume being obnoxious.
"No one can tell when you're crying."
Zircah made a startled sound of amusement and sniffled hard. Rikash dropped back to give her a look. "However, I see sunlight through the clouds, so I suggest you get a hold of yourself before you lose all credibility in this great façade of yours."
Zircah couldn't help it. She poked her tongue out at him. "Shove it, Moonsword." Rikash smirked in an all too smug manner before moving forward again. He spent the next hour listening behind him for any signs that Zircah was about to lop his head off, and shying away from small noises.
***
A/N: Huzzah, there's that chapter done with. The eleventh is written already, so it shall be up soon. ^^ Do leave a review. I shall heart ye forever. ^^