“You will wait for a healer, and you will survive this. You will not die!”
Britta’s eyes glaze over. “I will…not die…” she echoes, closing them. I look down at her side, and a tightness inside me loosens. Her bleeding has slowed, just as I willed.
“What is this, Deka?” Gazal’s voice seems almost frightened behind me.
I turn and she takes a step back, gasping. “Deka, your face…” she gasps. “Your—”
“Guard her,” I command, enforcing my words with a thread of energy. “Ensure that she sees a healer.”
Gazal nods, her eyes glazing over. Unlike the others, she never did wear the golden circlet I gave her as a gift.
“Yes,” she says dully, “I will guard her.”
I wait until she plants herself beside Britta, shield up against any arrows.
Belcalis has finally freed herself from her horse. She gasps the minute I turn to her, jerking back. “Deka, your face…”
Then she sees Britta.
“Britta!” she gasps, running to her. “Britta, no!” Tears are running down her face now.
“She will survive,” I tell her, forcing myself to believe my words. “She has to. She has to… I’ve commanded it.”
Something in my words must have convinced her, because she slowly nods, drying her tears.
I walk over to Ixa, then point Belcalis towards Gazal’s horse. “Come,” I say, power still surging from me. “Let’s end this.”
She nods, mounts Gazal’s horse, and nods at me grimly, her face still pale.
“Kill them all, Deka,” she whispers. “Kill every last one of those bastards.”
“I intend to,” I reply.
The mist grows thicker as we continue onward, and the spears fly faster and more frequently. Ixa is attuned to their sound now and digs into the sand the minute he hears their signature whistling, allowing Belcalis and me to raise our shields before they can hit.
“There.” Belcalis points at the hills after another storm of spears ends. “They’re all there.”
“YAH!” I urge Ixa onward. We’ve almost reached it.
When we burst though the mist, I see what Belcalis is pointing to – the rows and rows of deathshrieks lining the edge of the hills, catapults in their midst.
Belcalis stops, shocked. “Catapults,” she gasps. “Where did they get catapults?”
It seems the deathshrieks’ use of war machinery grows more advanced every time we see them. First it was slingshots and cochleans, now this. I don’t dwell on the thought. I’m already lifting my hands, my body shaking with the force of the energy rolling from it. If I could see my reflection while using the combat state, I’m sure I would be glowing as bright as a star now. Even the sand under my feet rumbles and shakes. When they notice it, the deathshrieks rumble and click to each other, panic rippling through their ranks. I slap my hands down, sending waves of power through their bodies.
“LOWER YOUR WEAPONS,” I command. “KNEEL!”
They slowly obey, each one getting on its knees as its eyes glaze to my command.
“Signal the army,” I say to Belcalis.
She nods, then lights the firecracker she has brought for the occasion. It explodes in a colourful display of reds and within moments, distant drumbeats reply to its signal. The army is on the move.
Once she’s done, Belcalis looks at the kneeling deathshrieks and frowns. “Where are the rest of them? I thought they were in the thousands. This looks like only a few nests’ worth.”
“There’s more of them,” I say. I can feel them out there, thousands more heartbeats pounding somewhere behind the mountains, waiting for us. They’re not my concern – yet. These are. They’re the ones that hurt Britta, that may have caused her death by now, for all I know. I try not to think this horrific thought as I approach them, noting the terror rising from their skins, a shimmery grey colour only I can see, using the combat state.
My eyes quickly find the deathshriek in the middle, the one with all the quills. The chieftain. When I walk towards him, the sand shakes under my feet, a much deeper vibration than even my energy can cause. The army is nearing, and just in time. My limbs are sagging from the force of emitting so much energy. My collapse won’t be long in coming now. But before it happens, I will have my due – for Britta’s sake.