Page 86 of Court of Treachery

“There’s no time for questions!” Aedon called to his companions as they straggled behind him. “Just trust me—and run!”

They dashed through the dark halls with the remaining dregs of their strength, up through the levels of Afnirheim, until the sounds of battle before them were deafening and growing by the second. Aedon changed direction at the last minute, circumventing the great space that had become a battlefield and treacherous sea of dead and dying, taking them higher to the galleried walkways. Shrieking and shouting behind them gave away their pursuers. Aedon chanced a glance back—too close for comfort.

He looked ahead once more. The stone doors at the other end of the bridge were too far away to reach. Natural light spilled in, calling them to freedom. Aedon dug deeper and sped up, though every muscle screamed. Behind him, Brand’s thunderous steps quickened, too. Yet the goblins were faster, and before they made the door, Brand, Erika, and Aedon had to turn to meet the attack.

Their purloined weapons were paltry protection compared to those they had lost in the depths of the battle, but Brand and Erika were skilled enough fighters to turn any weapon to their advantage. Aedon was glad to stand with them as he brandished the broken blade he had taken. It was of dwarven forging but had been made less than noble by its goblin owners, who had replaced the handle with bone—whose, he did not care to wonder—and shattered the mighty blade so it was short and cruelly edged.

They spread out, three abreast across the walkway. Aedon darted forward, slicing through a goblin’s arm and causing him to drop his trident with a shriek. His kin filled the gap, seemingly endless, as Aedon and his companions fought them off, all the while shuffling one step backward at a time to the door, and the possibility of safety. After a few minutes that seemed like an age to their faltering bodies, they passed under the great, stone arch. Before them, goblins trampled their fallen kin with no reverence, their sole attention on the three before them.

“We cannot make it,” gasped Erika. “If we turn and run, we will be cut down where we stand. I will not die a coward’s death with a blade in my back!”

“I will cover your exit. Go!” cried Brand, taking a huge, scything swing at the first of the goblins. It leapt out of the way of his blade—but the next one died where it stood.

“No!” said Aedon. “We leave together! Now!”

They launched one final assault to push the goblins back, then dashed through the open stone doors. As Erika and Aedon heaved upon them, closing them one painstaking inch at a time, Brand stood in the opening, pushing back the goblins, earning more injuries for his bravery.

At last, he leapt back and lent his strength to their efforts, shutting the doors with a boom. He wedged a broken length of wood in the place where the original bar, which was smashedand twisted upon the floor, ought to have gone, then bellowed for them to run. Run they did, up the huge flight of stairs that was wide enough for ten men to climb alongside, toward the faint light ahead that signalled the riven doors of Afnirheim, the outside, and their hope of escape.

Aedon’s elven strength and Brand’s Aerian power carried them up the stairs faster than Erika. All Aedon could hear was the pounding of his own heart and his ragged, tearing breath, as his feet pounded toward freedom—until the doors yielded behind them, splitting Brand’s makeshift bar in half with a splintering crash, and the goblins surged through, faster than Aedon and his comrades could outpace them.

75

ERIKA

Erika turned. Her mouth fell open with dismay at the sight of the goblins pouring through the breach and up the staircase after them. She would not make it out. The realisation sent cold steel into her bones. She looked up at Brand and Aedon far above her. Brand’s once beautiful wings were blackened and bloodied. Her heart ached fiercely that this would be the last time she saw him alive.

She let out a ragged sob of anger that it would end like this, in the dark halls, that her death would be at the hands of those who did not deserve it, but she refused to die a coward’s death, straining to escape a fate that destiny crushed upon her. She turned and threw aside her blade, grabbing a dwarven double-headed axe that lay on the stairs. Other than a covering of gore and dirt, it seemed in perfect working order.

“I will kill you all in the next life!” she screamed and raised the axe before her as she met the bloodlust in their eyes with her own rage. The impact of her axe upon the first helm within reach fuelled her fire, and she screeched a battle cry that had them all clamouring to sing of death and blood. It deafened her, and her senses narrowed to only her sight and the feel of the woodenhandle, smooth in her grip, as she swung the axe in a deadly dance.

But she was one against many, and they surrounded her in quick order. Those below her pulled and scrabbled at her ankles, until she could no longer kick them away. Their blades slashed at her limbs until with every spin of her axe, she trailed ribbons of blood, then that, too, was snatched from her grasp.

A great bellow sounded behind her, and the goblins were blasted back in a great ball of fire. To her left, Aedon, his face contorted in pain and anger, shot fireballs with every thrust of his clawed fist, and Brand cut down any before him with a long-bladed spear.

“You fools!” she shouted, though the clamour was too loud to hear her own voice.

Brand’s feral grin and the spark in his eyes was enough answer. “We will not leave you to stand alone. We die together.”

“I will see you in the next life.” With that, she re-joined the fray.

The goblins suddenly shrieked and retreated down the stairs, just as a great shadow from above fell upon Erika and her companions. Dimitri’s dark form appeared from the ether as they turned to face him.

Enemy or friend?Erika did not know, so she kept her guard raised, snatching up a new weapon in a moment of reprieve. It was a thick, short, dwarven sword, the type she hated to fight with, but it would take a life if she needed, even though the world spun, and she knew the last of her strength was fading. She would die with a weapon in hand—and no shame.

“You need to get out,” Dimitri snarled. “I cannot keep them at bay forever.” With every word, he sent blasts of power at the goblins behind them, sending them tumbling down the stairs in a heap. She did not understand. He was helping them? He raised his arms high and wide, bringing them down to the floor in hisbiggest blast yet. Dimitri wavered on his feet for a moment as his power reeled through her, stealing her breath.

The world shook as the staircase sheared off a dozen steps below them and crumbled into rubble, sending goblins tumbling into the depths of the great abyss. The door they had barred sheared in half and followed them into the darkness, as well as the bridge beyond it—showering those below with giant chunks of masonry that killed all they fell upon, as if the heavens smote them.

Aedon needed no more urging. He grabbed Erika’s arm, tugging her after him. Her legs would not move. Instead, she tumbled forward, toward the abyss. Brand’s giant arm caught her and their blood mingled, wet and sticky, as he pulled her close, sweeping her into his burly grasp and barrelling up the stairs. Each jolting step sent her further over the edge into darkness. Brand’s jutting chin and curve of his wings loomed over her like a protective cave. Her fingers loosened. The sword fell from her grasp as she sighed and slipped away.

76

AEDON

“Go!” Aedon urged Brand, who thundered up the stairs with Erika dangling in his arms, even as the remainder of the staircase shuddered beneath them, threatening to tumble them into the void.

Dimitrius stood before Aedon, blocking the way, with a hand raised to his chest. “Get out now, before it’s too late. Take whoever you can with you. Warn the dwarven king. Do not return to Afnirheim. It is lost. Do you hear me?” He bent close, searching Aedon’s gaze—breaching the distrust and hate Aedon lathered upon him. Aedon, taken aback by his vehement sincerity, nodded, speechless. “Tell them to make the rest of their kingdom strong. Thepaschawill come, and Saradon will aid him to take all of Valtivar. That is what will come to pass.” He said it with such terrible certainty that it shook Aedon to his core.

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