Engines of Alchemancy (The Alchemancer Book One)

Chapter 21. The Fifth Element

THE FOLK OF NORWYNNE FLED from a land gone mad.

Leaving behind what scant possessions remained to them, they abandoned the remnants of hearths and homes to escape into the night with only the clothes on their backs and their children held or dragged behind. They ran screaming and crying and praying beneath a sky turned crimson with blood-red clouds that spewed liquid drops of fire. The earth cracked and convulsed, jarring some from their feet as streaks of lightning, a score at a time, turned night into day. Tornadoes swirling with flame touched down everywhere. One such destructive monster came too close to a fleeing group of men, women, and children, sucking them into the vortex, never to be seen again. Though the only shelter from such things lay behind them, no one went back. Too many had seen the girl there. Sickly pale, like one already dead, she'd flown in from the sky and landed at the city's center. Violent winds came with her, and the earth trembled at her every footfall. The sorcerers' apprentices had tried to stop her, but it was as if they fought the elements themselves. Nothing could stand against such fury. Those who tried were tossed aside. This final display convinced those who hadn't already fled that now was the time to leave.

No one spared time for a glance over a shoulder. No one stopped. Though they beat flaming rain from their persons at every step, no one dared hesitate until they saw the wagon. It came shooting over the rise ahead with maniacal speed. Quickly they realized this was no ordinary wagon, for it was drawn by the most unordinary of beasts. At its helm ran a dozen hounds, surely from Hell itself, for their bodies exuded fire; their panting, noxious clouds of gas; and the flaming beads of crimson that were their eyes glowed with an otherworldly light. The wagon bucked and shook at the treatment the hounds gave it, but it somehow remained whole. Smoke billowed from the wheels at every turn, obscuring the monster that drove this Wagon of Hell. Most folk scattered at its approach, running into the dark. Others shrank to the ground, burying children beneath them for protection. Still others, few in number but armed with spear, sword, or knife, stilled shaking knees and readied themselves to fight. But the flaming hounds and the wagon they pulled never stopped, nor slowed, nor altered course. It shot into their midst, rumbling past and then leaving them behind as it disappeared into the storm's pandemonium. Only those who'd stood their ground had seen the boy holding the dogs' reins. A demon, some thought or said out loud with trembling voices. He looked the part, with wild hair, torn clothing, and dried blood streaking arms and legs. But some had seen past the wear. Some had recognized him. Word spread, from one person to the next, until the people of Norwynne no longer ran. They still did not return to the city, but sought protection in the outlying hills where they waited, for Elsanar's prodigy, the boy apprentice, who'd harnessed the very Hounds of Hell to do his bidding, had returned to set things right.

Aaron had no idea his coming had elicited anything but fear, for it was the only thing he saw in peoples' faces before the wagon thundered past one group after another. Over and over, the scene of folk fleeing, hiding, or raising weapons was repeated. No one tried to stop them, though. He was at least glad of that, for though he held the reins, controlling the hounds had become increasingly difficult. Initially, though they'd liked their situation not at all, Ursool's charm and Aaron's link to it kept them in check. Still, they lamented their situation with snapping jaws and incessant growls. Even more so once they'd come into view of the fiery maelstrom brewing over Norwynne, for as their pace had quickened, Aaron's control over them had lessened. They pushed the boundaries of the magic, Aaron knew, causing it to diminish its hold on them, though they remained incapable of breaking free from it entirely. The chaotic storm fired something in them, lending them strength. Perhaps because it reminded them of their own hellish home, Aaron thought. Instead of fighting the hounds' newfound sense of exuberance, Aaron let them have their head. The world was coming to an end, and he'd come to stop it. But, to do that, they had to reach the city first.