Ateppa, his face a mask of rage, moved to join the next wave of soldiers waiting for those in front to fall. Corlas also watched for any opening. A soldier screamed as she went down with a thick tendril wrapped around her neck. Another fell, his face in shreds. The Mireform roared, and those tendrils that had been severed suddenly grew afresh. The creature seemed to shrink a little with the regeneration.
‘Keep at it!’ screamed Ateppa. ‘Hack and slice! Go for the larger limbs!’
A new tongue unfurled from the Mireform’s mouth to strike a soldier full in the gut. Bellowing with rage, the gerent took the man’s place. With a fast double slash he lopped off two squirming tentacles, and followed up immediately with a sudden lunge at the arm. His sword struck deep, lopping the whole limb from the shoulder. As it fell disintegrating to the ground, the creature shrieked, a sound that echoed as if it came from somewhere deep within the earth. The Mireform turned its full attention to Ateppa, its tiny white eyes flashing hatefully in their cavities. A tendril shot out to encircle his leg, but even as it tensed to yank him to the ground, his sword came down in a wild and powerful arc. It sank into the shoulder of the beast above the missing arm, carving away a whole piece of its side. The Mireform shrieked again and the tendril around Ateppa’s leg jerked away. Other soldiers took the opportunity to hack off more tendrils.
The creature fell against the wall and shrank again. As it did, silver spikes protruded outwards through its cleaved side, then came the ends of fingers, then a hand and arm. Tendrils grew once more. In moments the Mireform was whole again, but now no taller than a man. Enraged by pain and fear, it leaped against them, a whirling mass of tendrils, tongue and claws. Three soldiers went down screaming, but the gerent fought on with eyes blazing. Corlas found an opening to join him, swinging his sword back and forth like a pendulum of protection. It protected well – squirming bits of Mireform flew about him like grass from a scythe.
Two large tendrils seized the gerent by the waist and lifted him into the air. Ateppa swung, but each time the tendrils bent out of his sword’s path. The Mireform grinned and the pointed tips of the tendrils worked their way through Ateppa’s skin. Corlas tried to reach him, but the tongue whipped out to keep him at bay. The tendrils squeezed and the gerent’s cries halted as the air went out of him. As his eyes bulged in his head, it seemed only to strengthen the rage they contained. Leaning against the tendril that wormed into his side, he swung his sword at full arm’s length. The blow struck the creature on the neck and sliced clean through. For a second the Mireform’s face froze in mid-roar. Then the head collapsed into chunks of mud, slopping down its body. It dropped the gerent, who rolled away wheezing.
‘Keep at it!’ he managed.
A blade took his place, but the headless thing was folding over on itself. Its long legs twisted around each other and the body lengthened. Suddenly a thing like a huge brown snake was wriggling towards them! It barrelled through, knocking soldiers from their feet, slithering out the door and around the corner.
‘After it!’ shouted Corlas. He flagged down two of the soldiers as they passed. ‘You two wait,’ he said, then kneeled by Ateppa. ‘Gerent?’
Blood oozed from Ateppa’s side, but Corlas couldn’t tell how deeply the tendrils had penetrated. Ateppa raised his face. ‘Just need to get my breath back,’ he wheezed.
‘Blades,’ said Corlas to the soldiers, ‘one of you fetch a healer, the other stay with the gerent.’
‘I don’t want that creature leaving the fort!’ yelled Ateppa, flecks of blood hitting his lips from within. ‘Go! Kill it!’
As Corlas ran from the mages’ quarters, he heard shouts at the fort gate. Ahead were several soldiers blocking the path of the snake thing, which was trying to circle around them. Those chasing it from behind were about to catch up. Just twenty paces past them was the raised portcullis.
‘Lower the grate!’ bellowed Corlas as he ran.
The Mireform twisted its snake head towards him, then turned back to the soldiers who barred its way and made a feint towards them. At the last moment it changed direction, knocking down one with a swipe of its tail. With its way clear, it slithered on towards the gate.
‘Lower the portcullis!’ Corlas bellowed again.
One of the guards at the gate finally heeded the order and yanked a lever. The portcullis creaked and fell, and the Mireform put on a final burst of speed. The pointed tips of the portcullis clanked into a row of slots in the ground, barely clipping the tail end of the fleeing Mireform. As it escaped the fort, a rain of arrows followed it harmlessly.
A shout of panic from the walls above curtailed Corlas’s attention. The soldiers at the gate were also staring at something out on the plains. Further shouting rang from the walls. From behind him came the sound of a powerful impact, and he spun to see one of the town’s houses with its roof smashed in, fire blazing through the windows.
What had happened?
His question was answered as a flaming ball plummeted from the sky and exploded on a street, sending out burning tar.
They were under attack.
At the gate, Corlas’s spirits almost failed. On the grey plains before the fort stood an army of the shadow.
‘How are they so close?’ he demanded of a gate soldier.
‘They just appeared, sir!’ the blade said. ‘There was a shimmer in the air and suddenly an army where none existed before! It must be magic, but why didn’t our mages detect them?’
‘The mages are dead, soldier.’
Fear blossomed on the blade’s face. ‘Dead, sir?’
‘Yes.’
‘S-sir,’ the soldier stuttered, ‘they shouldn’t be here now!’
‘What?’
‘It’s day, sir. The beginning of day, even. Ateppa always said a Fenvarrow army wouldn’t attack in the day!’
‘No,’ said Corlas. ‘Their magic is stronger at night. Sound the alarms.’
For Corlas, the enemy’s entire tactic clicked into place. The Shadowdreamer had sent a deadly assassin during the night, an assassin that could take whatever shape it wanted. It could have posed as a soldier and come in the front gate, or climbed the walls as a spider thing, or …Whatever it had done, it had avoided detection by the mages. Then it had killed them, starting with those patrolling the walls, then the rest in their quarters. It had come at night so as not to be seen, and so that it had a better chance of finding all the mages in one place. Without the mages to warn the light of approaching magic, the Shadowdreamer had managed to cloak his troops from sight until they were within attack range. Battu needed to attack as quickly as possible after the assassinations, to press his advantage – hence here they were during the day.
As the shadow army’s metal catapults launched another volley of fireballs, Corlas spied a group of Graka beating their bat wings and lifting something into the air. Then another group took off, and another …
The fort echoed with alarm bells. Archers swarmed up the stairs to line the walls and fill the south-facing turrets. Troops of blades assembled in the centre of town, and riders ran to the stables to ready their steeds. Corlas strode around shouting orders to all.
A wave of attackers, Arabodedas and Vorthargs, broke from the army to charge towards the walls. As arrows rained upon them, three Arabodedas mages stepped aside from the group. One summoned crackling power to his fingertips, while the other two protected him against flying arrows with magical deflection. The first mage’s hands shot forth, sending a great bolt of blue energy roaring up the hill. It hit the wall at ground level, blowing out chunks of blackened rock. The mages swapped roles – the first added his efforts to defence, while the second began to charge up another attack. Moments later a second bolt of energy sizzled up the hill to explode in the same place, deepening the wound in the wall. The mages rotated again and a third bolt followed, this time bursting through the stone and creating a breach in the fort’s defences some ten paces wide. With their powers depleted, the mages fled a safe distance from the archers. The Arabodedas and Vorthargs charged towards the opening.