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‘BRODAR KAYNE TOOK a hesitant step and winced. His ankles hurt, his knees hurt – for some reason even his arse hurt, but he would be damned if he was going to ask any of the grim-faced men and women who had just stepped off the Seeker to check it for bruises. Everyone was too busy nursing their own pains, physical or otherwise.
The flight over Mal-Torrad and the relentless descent over the southern mountains had been dicey. The landing had been even worse. There was something to be said for horseback, Kayne reckoned – chief of which was the general absence of random attacks from giant, fire-breathing lizards. Neither Thanates nor the dragon had yet reappeared.
The Wolf kicked at a pile of rubble and swore. He was even more pissed off than usual, which was to say very pissed off indeed. The others were similarly glum. Ahead of the small party loomed Watcher’s Keep – the great citadel in which Kayne had spent most of his twenties. The Seeker had given up the ghost barely a mile from the last bastion of the Highland people.
Or at least, it had been the last bastion. Now it lay in ruins.
Their grim little company made its way through training yards littered with corpses. Training yards Kayne had once sparred on, practising his swordplay for the day he would join his brothers in the defence of their nation. Now that nation was broken, overrun by the same fiends that had massacred the citadel.
Rana stared at the carnage in horror. ‘My nephew was supposed to travel here to become a Warden,’ she said. ‘Krazka killed him. Perhaps it was a small mercy.’
They passed the corpse of a young man. His head was twenty feet from his body, mashed into one of the citadel walls. The sight was downright gruesome and Rana went white, then turned away to heave. Kayne waited until she had recovered and placed a hand on her shoulder. He had just intended to offer some comfort, but she flinched back. Shame filled him.
She sees a killer, he realized. A monster no better than a demon. He turned away and spotted the place on the walls where he and Mhaira had stood together to be wed by old Rastagar. He remembered the dazzling smile on her face when he’d first set eyes on her being walked down the aisle, her blue gown making her look like a Lowland princess rather than a simple shepherd’s daughter.
He sat down on a broken column and massaged his temples with callused fingers, trying to dislodge the lump in his throat. Sasha came over to sit beside him. ‘Everything okay?’ she asked.
‘Aye.’ He coughed, trying to disguise the crack in his voice.
Sasha frowned at him. She looked a good deal different than she had months back, her pretty brown hair shorn right off and her skin blotchy and grey, with dark shadows under her eyes. Nevertheless, she gave him the same disapproving stare she had back in Farrowgate and the memory of it made him smile despite everything. ‘I’m here if you need to talk,’ she said simply.
‘Appreciate it,’ Kayne said, climbing to his feet. ‘But I’m all right.’
Sasha rolled her eyes and, strangely, Kayne thought he heard a clicking noise.
Jerek was examining the corpses. Most bore terrible wounds: bodies had been torn apart by oversized teeth and claws, and in some cases pincers. Davarus Cole wandered over and began poking around a body near to Jerek, a grim expression on his face.
The Wolf scowled at him. ‘Best do that somewhere over there. Don’t want you spilling your guts all over my boots.’
Cole stiffened and glared at Jerek with eyes the colour of steel. Just like Magnar’s eyes. ‘It was something I ate!’ he shot back. He looked around, his gaze settling on the most gruesome corpse in the yard. It was bloated and purple, infected with some kind of demonic poison. Cole strolled across to the corpse and grabbed hold of its feet. ‘Let’s have a look at you then,’ he said brightly, giving the legs a good tug, intending to turn the body over. Instead it split apart at the waist. The legs came away in his hands and putrid blood poured out, smelling vile even from where Kayne was standing.
Cole blinked a few times, keeping his face carefully expressionless. ‘Just as I thought,’ he said neutrally. ‘Demons killed him. Excuse me.’ He hurried off, disappearing behind a nearby tower.
Kayne sighed, then ambled over to Jerek. ‘How long they been dead?’ he asked.
‘Couple of weeks,’ the Wolf replied. ‘Reckon the demons have all moved further inland. Might be quieter than we anticipated in the Borderland.’
‘I hope you’re right.’
Cole reappeared, making a show of adjusting his belt as though he’d just gone for a piss but fooling no one. The others came to join them.
‘I wonder how Thanates fares,’ Isaac said. ‘There is nothing more dangerous in the world than a great wyrm. Nothing except perhaps for Saverian.’
Without warning, a bell tolled. Kayne looked to the east, where the tallest tower in Watcher’s Keep loomed over the buildings and training yards. Once, the Shaman had perched upon the clock tower in raven form, watching Kayne getting wed. The grizzled Highlander gave a rueful shake of his head. This place held memories enough to keep his old brain reminiscing all night if he let it, but they had a task to carry out.
‘I hear something,’ Jerek rasped. ‘Bats. Hundreds of ’em.’
Kayne listened. He too could hear it – a great susurration, as of many small wings beating.
‘There,’ Cole said, pointing to a swarm of creatures flying in their direction. He turned to Sasha and grinned. ‘Hope you don’t mind a little guano on your head.’
As the swarm got closer, though, Kayne saw that something was terribly wrong.
‘Are those... flying heads?’ Rana gasped, horrified. Kayne’s poor vision began to make out details: rotten eyes, desiccated cheeks, sharp fangs crowding gnashing mouths.
‘Those ain’t no bats,’ Kayne said darkly. ‘They’re demons.’
There was a bang next to him, and one of the heads exploded in a splash of gore. Isaac had his hand-cannon raised – a similar weapon to the one with which Krazka had threatened to blow Kayne’s brains out before Rana had stopped him. The barrel smoked gently.
Rana pointed a finger. Lightning burst from the outstretched digit, striking one demon and then another, disintegrating their wings and leaving their blackened heads to tumble to the ground. One of the demons reached the White Lady’s handmaiden and clamped its teeth down on her arm, gnawing at her pale flesh. The Unborn calmly reached across with her other hand and squeezed, crushing its skull beneath her fingers.
‘There’s too many,’ Cole said. ‘We’ll be eaten alive.’
Kayne cleaved in half the first of the heads that reached him, then spun and kicked another into a wall, where it connected with a satisfying crunch. He saw a familiar building and dashed towards it. ‘Inside the barracks!’ he shouted. The door was already slightly ajar and he kicked it open, nostrils filling with the stench of recent death. Jerek came through after him, followed by Isaac, Cole, Sasha and finally Rana, a shield of blue magic raised before her.
‘What about the Unborn?’ Sasha gasped.
‘Who gives a shit,’ Jerek snarled. Kayne was of a mind to agree. He slammed the door shut and pulled the bolt across. He reached down to the pouch hanging on his belt, intending to retrieve some flint and tinder and light a candle, but Rana wriggled a finger and a glowing orb rose from her outstretched palm to illuminate the hall.
‘Thanks,’ he muttered. He frowned at the door as something slammed into it. ‘Ain’t never seen a demon like that before.’
‘Whatever realm the Nameless inhabits is home to as many nightmares as there were Pilgrims to dream them,’ said Isaac, his voice grim.
The barracks were a mess. Beds were overturned and the bodies of young men were strewn all over the floor. Blood covered the mattresses, the sheets, the walls. It looked as though a demon had made it inside the building without anyone realizing and massacred everyone while they slept.
The Wolf knelt down, frowned at a series of bloody prints on the wooden floor. ‘Blink demon,’ he growled.
‘What’s that?’ Cole asked.
Kayne picked his way through the dormitory, stepping around disembowelled bodies, trying not to lose himself to despair. ‘Pray you don’t have to find out.’
‘Wait a damned minute,’ Cole exclaimed angrily, hands on his hips. ‘I’m not some wet-behind-the-ears kid!’
‘Could’ve fooled me,’ Jerek spat back. ‘You’re still full of shit.’
Cole leaped across to the Wolf and pressed his forehead into Jerek’s bald scalp, chest puffed out, lips peeled back from his teeth. Jerek responded in kind, forcing his head forward, pushing Cole’s back. The youngster went for his dagger, his fingers closing around Magebane’s jewelled hilt.
‘Stop.’ The command in Isaac’s voice caused both men to pause. Jerek glowered, while Cole appeared suddenly uncertain. ‘This helps no one,’ the Fade officer continued. ‘I told Prince Obrahim that you would stand united. I do not care to report to him that one of you killed the other before we had even made it to the Devil’s Spine.’
‘That what you’re here for?’ Jerek grated. ‘To study us? To squeal to your prince and his prick of a brother? What you gonna do if we fail your test?’
The Adjudicator turned away, busying himself examining bodies. ‘There is another ship crossing the Endless Ocean. It carries a Breaker of Worlds. You be will Reckoned.’
‘We’ll be what?’ Kayne asked, but Sasha was already reaching out to grasp the Fade’s arm, her face pale with shock.
‘You won’t,’ she hissed.
‘It is not my decision,’ said Isaac. ‘I have advocated for you. All I can do is help you slay the Herald, or at least ensure you do not destroy yourselves before then. I cannot lie to my prince. It is against the principles of our race.’
The door shook again and Rana jumped. ‘I do not follow,’ she said slowly. ‘Reckoned? What does it mean?’
‘It means annihilation,’ said Sasha. ‘To reduce our cities and everyone within to ash.’
A grim silence followed her pronouncement. ‘How much farther is it to the Devil’s Spine?’ Cole asked.
‘A few days’ march,’ Kayne replied. ‘Into the Borderland, and then passing the Lake of Mirrors. Never ventured much beyond that when I was a Warden. Don’t know many men who did.’
‘Perhaps we should wait for the Seeker,’ suggested Rana. The magical shield on her arm unravelled, ribbons of blue energy fading away as they fell to the blood-splattered floor.
‘We don’t know how long Ariel will require to complete the repairs,’ said Isaac. ‘I suggest we wait out the swarm, and then make our way east on foot.’
‘Fine with me,’ grunted Jerek. ‘Rather be marching through demon-infested wastelands than cooped up here with this prick.’ He glared at Cole, who returned the stare.
Kayne sat down on one of the beds. It had once been Borun’s, he realized with a start. A lot of water had passed under the bridge since then. A lot of blood, too, including Borun’s own the final time they’d met in the Trine.
Rana hovered for a moment and then sat beside him. ‘Back at Lake Dragur,’ she said. ‘I left you to die.’
‘Aye,’ Kayne replied. ‘I remember. You told me you were no healer.’
‘A lie. I didn’t want to mend your wounds.’
He shrugged.
Rana’s eyes met his. ‘I heard the stories they told about you, Sword of the North. The things you’d done. I thought the world was better served if men like you were allowed to die.’
He looked down at the bed. Remembered Borun’s laughter.
Remembered Borun’s head striking the ground and coming to rest against an outcrop of granite, his life’s blood dripping from Kayne’s greatsword.
‘Perhaps you were right,’ he said quietly.
*
They marched hard, moving ever east through the Borderland. The White Lady’s handmaiden rejoined the group just outside Watcher’s Keep, not uttering a word, merely falling in behind them. There was still no sign of Thanates.
The morning after they set out from the ruined citadel, they came across a sight that made Kayne’s old heart ache. A line of dead Wardens snaked across the grass, their broken weapons scattered around. Opposite them, littering the ground in far greater numbers than the Wardens, were the corpses of demons. Hundreds of them.
‘They made a last stand here,’ said Rana. ‘When Orgrim ordered them to retreat and let the demons pass, these Wardens refused. They came here to die.’
Kayne walked down the line, looking at the faces of the dead, trying to commit them to memory. They were all much younger than him. Some even younger than Magnar.
Then let me go.
His son had wished to fly north with the small party. He’d pleaded and begged and threatened until tears flowed from his eyes. He even demanded it as his right as king, though they both knew he had no authority. The Highlanders followed Carn Bloodfist and Brandwyn the Younger now.
Magnar had pleaded and begged and threatened, but Kayne’s memory of the Seer’s final vision had hardened his resolve to stone.
You sent the Broken King to his death.
He wouldn’t let the southerner’s prophecy be fulfilled, not this time. He wouldn’t let his son end up like one of the corpses there on the grass, torn apart by demons, his flesh turning purple. So he’d asked Magnar a question he already knew the answer to; a question he knew would end the discussion right then.
Can you still hold a sword?
His son’s reaction had broken Kayne’s heart – but at least Magnar was safe back in camp. Not here in the Borderland, stuck in the middle of nowhere, on a suicide mission to kill a legendary demon.
Davarus Cole was staring at the corpses. Sasha noticed him and gave a shake of her head.
‘What’s going on?’ Kayne asked, seeing the look that passed between them.
‘Do you remember the corpses that rose from the earth that night in Farrowgate? I think you called them strollers.’
‘Aye. They sometimes rise when there’s wild magic in the air.’
‘Yes. Well, Cole has picked up a few new talents in the last year. He carries the essence of the Reaver within him.’
Kayne raised an eyebrow at that, but Cole was already gesturing at one of the bodies. Much to Kayne’s horror, it began to move, rigid limbs cracking as it pushed itself up off the ground. Kayne was on it in an instant, his greatsword stabbing down, skewering the skull. The corpse went still.
‘What was that for? I had it under control!’ protested Cole, but Kayne was already turning to him.
‘That ain’t no way to respect the dead,’ he snarled. ‘These men gave their lives to protect their homeland. They ain’t tools to be used as you like.’
To his credit, Davarus Cole looked ashamed. ‘I thought they might come in handy if we run into any more demons,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Being capable of doing something don’t mean you should,’ Kayne replied. He softened his voice. The boy had only wanted to help, after all. ‘Sometimes the end don’t justify the means,’ he said gently, giving Cole a pat on the shoulder.
The White Lady’s handmaiden watched them with dead eyes that nonetheless seemed to convey a certain amount of regret. Kayne noticed her staring. ‘Everything all right?’ he asked.
The Unborn crossed her arms and stared east across the Boundary. ‘We should move,’ she said in her emotionless voice. It was the first time Kayne had heard the creature speak.
‘Are you there?’ Sasha asked curiously. ‘Are you her? The White Lady?’
The handmaiden simply walked away.
*
The following day the small group arrived on the bank of the Lake of Mirrors. The edge of the lake was overgrown with thistly plants. Isaac stepped gracefully around them and gazed down at the glistening waters with eyes like volcanic glass. Kayne was a tall man, but he barely reached the Ancient’s chin. ‘My people once had an enclave to the north of here,’ Isaac said in his melodious voice. ‘None ever spoke of such a lake. I suspect it was formed during the cataclysm humanity refers to as the Godswar. Perhaps it still carries a divine essence within.’
‘I don’t like the sound of that.’ Davarus Cole’s tone seemed to suggest he had had some bad experiences with this kind of thing.
Kayne frowned down at the water. ‘The veronyi – the wise men – they say that if you’re lucky, you can see your fate in the lake. I ain’t never seen a damn thing the few times I tried.’
Isaac stared into the depths. ‘I see nothing at all,’ the Fade said. ‘Only emptiness. Perhaps its magic does not work for my kind.’
Sasha stared into the water. It might’ve been Kayne’s imagination, but he thought he heard a clicking noise again. ‘I see... it looks like a city,’ she said, clearly confused. ‘At the bottom of the lake. It’s probably just my imagination. The lake is deep. Unbelievably deep.’
Though the water was crystal clear, the bottom of the lake was not visible to Kayne’s eyes. Mind, my sight’s getting so bad I struggle to see my own manhood when I’m taking a piss. When I’m able to piss. All he saw was water.
The Wolf scowled down. ‘Nothing,’ he growled. He spat, causing ripples in the lake that disturbed their reflections. Oddly, the Wolf’s lengthened while Kayne’s diminished.
Davarus Cole was hanging back, a deep frown on his face. ‘I’m not going near it,’ he said.
Rana peered into the lake. ‘It’s just water,’ she said. ‘If there were truly magic within, I would sense it.’
Jerek gave a humourless smile. ‘Fuck me. First the boy pukes his guts up at the sight of a little blood and now he’s too scared to approach water in case he gets his dick wet. Best get a clean pair of trousers ready, Kayne. He’ll need them when we find this demon lord.’
‘Oh, piss off,’ hissed Cole. He inched towards the lake, as though certain something terrible would happen at any moment. He finally reached the edge and peeked into the water. Apparently seeing nothing untoward, he relaxed and gave Jerek a smug grin, spreading his arms wide. ‘You see? You think I’m scared of a little water? Let me tell you about the time I went to the Swell—’
Behind Davarus Cole, the water suddenly exploded. As Kayne and the others watched, dumbstruck, a giant fist emerged from the lake and wrapped liquid fingers around the young assassin, whose expression switched from surprise to utter resignation in the blink of an eye.
A moment later he was dragged into the water and pulled under, disappearing from sight.