Into Battle (The Seventh Tower 5) - Page 14

"That's not the way, Brightstar! Hasn't your Lumenor told you where to report? We're clearing out everything from Indigo down!"

Tal didn't answer. He tried to look vacant and staggered across the traffic, which had resumed going the other way. He earned some angry cries, but by the time he'd threaded his way through, the Brightblinder was lost in the sea of fleeing Chosen.

After that, Tal took lesser-known ways down to the Orange levels. The Brightblinder had obviously known what he was talking about, as the lower Tal went, the more deserted it was. There were still Guards and irregular groups of Chosen with them heading down, but Tal stayed out of their way or pretended to be resting before continuing on up. In any case they were always in too much of a hurry to pay any attention to him.

Finally, he came to the familiar Orange levels that had been home for most of his life. They did not feel like home now. Tal realized he didn't really feel like a Chosen anymore, either. Certainly he had no desire either to join those fleeing upward, or the fighters heading down.

At the corner of the corridor that led to his family's rooms, Tal paused. He looked down it and saw the familiar door with his family's sigil. The orange Sthil-beast leaping over a seven-pointed star.

His eyes misted as he remembered rushing home when he first got the news of his father's disappearance. He had tried not to cry then, not wanting anyone to see his sorrow and fear. Sushin had been waiting inside.

It was unlikely Sushin was waiting inside now, not with the Icecarls attacking. But Tal was sure he would have left traps, and perhaps free shadows, to guard Graile. He had almost caught Tal before in a similar way, by using his brother, Gref, as bait.

"You see the door with the Sthil-beast?" Tal whispered to Adras. "Can you slide under and have a look around? Be careful. There might be traps, or enemies."

"Adras will break traps and tear enemies into three," declared the Spiritshadow.

"In half, I think you mean," corrected Tal. "No, three. One piece left, one piece right, one piece to trample on," said Adras. "It is the Storm Shepherd way. That's what Odris is doing now."

"Odris?" asked Tal. His voice sort of squeaked, in either nervousness or excitement. "She's in the Castle?"

Adras nodded and pointed one massive thumb at the floor.

"Down below. Fighting. I hear the wind tell me." "And Milla?" Tal asked eagerly. "Is she still alive?"

"Don't know," said Adras.

"Wind speaks only of Odris. But wind would not know Milla anyway."

"Maybe Milla's showing the Icecarls the way in," Tal said quietly. "They would need a guide, and she's the obvious choice. Maybe they wouldn't let her go to the Ice because she was needed."

Adras shrugged. He didn't know. He was happy to know Odris was close. He would see her soon.

Tal felt happier, too. He'd never really believed that Milla was dead, but he'd feared that she was. But if Odris was here, and fighting with the Icecarls…

"Do I go now?" interrupted Adras.

"Yes, yes!" said Tal. "But be careful. Unlock the door if it's locked, and don't touch anything suspicious."

Adras drifted down the corridor. Tal watched anxiously as he slid under the door, every sense alert. But he didn't hear anything, and there was no sign of any alarm or trap.

Minutes passed. Adras did not return. Tal stayed crouched at the corner, tension mounting inside him. What had happened to the Spiritshadow?

Another minute passed. Tal stood up, crouched down, stood up again.

Another minute passed. Tal pushed his Sunstone ring up and down his finger nervously. Surely Adras would have opened the door by now? Something must have gone wrong.

Tal started to sneak along the corridor, his Sunstone hand held ready. Red light started to billow to the surface of the stone, as Tal prepared a Red Ray of Destruction.

He was almost at the door when it suddenly swung open. For a split second, Tal was about to fire the Red Ray at whatever came out. But he didn't, because it was Adras.

"What are you waiting for?" asked the Spirit-shadow. "I unlocked the door ages ago. There's no one here anyway. Just one of your lot, sound asleep in a funny hot room at the back."

"That's not 'one of my lot," Tal said angrily. "That's my mother!"

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Milla danced a dance of death, the Talon's whip of light weaving around her like a razor-sharp ribbon. She mowed through the ranks of attacking Spiritshadows like a Merwin through a half-asleep herd of Wreska.

As the Talon cut, sliced, and choked through the Spiritshadows, it also deflected the rays of light and other magics that were sent against the War-Chief of the Icecarls. But quick as it was, faster than a Fleamite, the Talon could not fully deflect every Red Ray or Blue Burst the Chosen was firing from their makeshift barricade higher up the wide reaches of the Old Grand Stair.

Red light struck and Milla was lightly burned across both arms. But she did not fall back until the Spiritshadows were in full retreat. Even then, the

Talon tried to lash out behind Milla, and she only just managed to turn it aside as Odris grabbed her and dragged her back behind the Icecarls' own wall of partially reflective crystal panels, stacked against a breastwork of barrels, boxes, and anything else they could drag up from the Underfolk level at the end of the stair.

As Odris dragged Milla away, several Shield Maidens paused in their own retreat to raise their mirror-shields to guard the War-Chief. They did it not a moment too soon, as more Red Rays and an Indigo Cutter zapped down, blowing chips of stone out of the steps as they were deflected by the shields.

Momentarily safe behind the barricade, Milla and Odris hunkered down as about a dozen hunters stood up and hurled their glowing spears at the last few Spiritshadows.

Saylsen crept up to them, her head just below the level of the barricade. More Red Rays crisscrossed overhead as she approached.

"Well done, War-Chief!" exclaimed the old Shield Mother. "If only the cowards themselves would attack, instead of sending their shadows! Then we would show them!"

Milla set her teeth for a moment, as she began to feel the pain from her burns.

"They show good sense," she said grimly. "The Spiritshadows do not die easily, and their Chosen masters will survive their pain. I wish that we had Spiritshadows to die for us."

She looked around. They had been fighting on the stair for almost a Chosen hour by her Sunstone, and there had been many deaths and many wounded among the Icecarls.

"There is no honor here," Milla added. It was not like the old stories and legends. "There is only foul and unpleasant work that must be done."

She saw Malen tending to a dying Shield Maiden, and crawled down to her.

"What news of the main host?" asked Milla. Malen shook her head. Her hands were shaking, Milla saw.

"I… I don't know," Malen whispered. "I can't hear them in the middle of this. I can't hear them!"

"It doesn't matter," Milla calmed her. "Just do what you can for the wounded. I've sent runners back. They will bring up the others when they come."

When they come,

Milla thought. She hoped it would be soon enough. Even with the Talon, there was a limit to how many Spiritshadows they could stop. There had been six assaults so far down the stairs. Each time there had been more Spiritshadows, and each time they had been barely thrown back.

Milla looked across at the end of the barricade, where there was a considerable space after the main body of defenders. Everywhere else the line was packed tight with Shield Maidens and hunters, staying low until they had to confront the next attack.

The reason for the space was immediately clear. Jarek was there, staring through a slight gap between two panes of crystal. His vast blue-stained chest was rising and falling like a bellows, and he held his great chain of gold metal taut between two huge fists. Kirr was stroking the back of his neck and whispering in his ear. She had managed to get him to come back after each attack, a feat Milla would have believed impossible

after seeing his intense rage and the carnage he wreaked among the Spiritshadows with his chain. The golden metal, like certain types of light, was all too solid to Spirit-shadows.

As Milla watched, a Red Ray drilled through the gap and struck Jarek on the chest. Anyone else would have been killed instantly, but his skin, soaked in Norrworm blood, reflected the ray. It hit a barrel and sliced away a long wooden splinter.

The splinter flew through the air with an awful whir, and went straight into Kirr.

The Shield Maiden fell without a sound, crumpled over the next lower step. Milla ran to her, as fast as she could without exposing herself. Malen followed, her slim medicine pack in hand.

Even before they got there, they knew nothing could be done. The splinter was as long as an arrow, and by terrible mischance it had struck Kirr under the arm, where she had no armor.

Jarek looked down at his partner and touched her gently on the back. When she did not move, he rolled her over. Milla and Malen froze, seeing the madness in his eyes.

Jarek put Kirr down again. His head went back, and he gave the most terrible howl anyone had ever heard, Icecarl or Chosen. It was louder and fiercer than a Merwin's screech, deeper than the distant rumble of the Selski.

Time stood still. Even the Chosen stopped firing Red Rays over the barricade.

Jarek rose up and smashed his way through the barricade, whirling the great chain above his head. The awful howl continued, far longer than anyone's lungs could have sustained it.

Red Rays flashed and played across his body, but he did not fall back. A Blue Burst broke over him, but he did not falter.

Tags: Garth Nix The Seventh Tower Fantasy
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