Heart of Flame

XIV. The Black Sword

Sorne had to drop the chant as they made their way down into the ravine where the Fangs stood, conserving her energy for the demon. The signs of battle intensified as they approached. She rolled over a dead demon-kith's body with her foot, exposing a deep wound through his chest that looked very much like a stab wound from a greatsword. "Definitely Murdak," she said.

Death still bothered Sorne sometimes, but not often. Banaak's training was too relentless. The enemy was the enemy. When it came to a fight, there could be no half measures. Only kill or be killed. She had been in a few battles now, and understood. In those desperate moments of strife, the fire at the center of her chest always rose to the surface. Graaol said it was a rage worthy of an orc, a berserker state that left no room for fear through the anger. She just thought of Aldana, of the pain he had inflicted, and it was easily stirred up, like hot coals in the center of her chest. The slamming of spears against shields, the sound of war drums, the battle cries, the smell of blood and smoke...

Sorne of the Flame was not the same girl who had left Mauléon.

Kalg leaned down, dipping two fingers into the man's blood. "Still wet and warm. They're close. Thadash, do you have another shift in you?"

The shaman-initiate grimaced. "For a minute, maybe."

"A lot can happen in a minute," Kalg said. He was the most experienced of the three, so Sorne deferred to his judgment. "Thadash, your job is to get to Murdak and heal. Sorne and I will take any pressure from the demon off." Their heads snapped up at an unmistakable sound of steel on steel. Kalg gave them both a quick nod. "Carefully."

The moment Sorne heard a dragon's roar, her heart started to race. That was Zajar, which meant Khagra was in danger. She sprinted ahead, rounding the corner of the ravine to see Murdak backed against a cliff by two demon-kith with spears, though he was fending them off with some success despite obvious wound to his leg. No doubt it was from the crossbow bolt. Khagra had scaled the cliffs behind him like a squirrel and Zajar clung to the rock face below her. The dragon's tail lashed angrily as he hissed and growled at the demon-kith, just close enough to keep the humans worried.

A tall, almost skeletal creature turned to look at Sorne from the slight rise where it had been observing the fight. It was about the same height as Banaak and roughly humanoid, but its metal face was featureless and the body seemed gaunt where it wasn't draped in dark, rotting cloth. It lifted an ebony greatsword and leveled it at the three in a challenge.

"Sorne, can you and Kalg keep it distracted?" Thadash asked, hesitating.

"I think so," the girl said. Her stomach twisted in fear, but she refused to show it. Demons could be killed.

"Just keep moving and we'll be fine. You have the chant," Kalg said, giving her shoulder a brief squeeze. He could probably see the tension in her body.

Sorne knew they didn't have much time. She quickly advanced towards the demon, spear in hand, with the chant on her lips. She didn't have nearly enough energy for a long, drawn out battle. Whatever she did to the demon, it was going to have to be quick. Fortunately, most fights were. People didn't realize how much could happen in a few seconds, particularly with someone trained better than Sorne was. She more sensed than saw or heard Kalg just behind her, his own spear raised.

The demon went from being very still to faster than anything Sorne had encountered. She threw up her spear to protect her head as the greatsword arced down, angling it to deflect the force. The ebony weapon snapped her spear as though the langets weren't even there. The blow hit her shoulder instead of her head, redirected a little, and the force knocked her down to her knee. Nothing broke with the magic in her system, but the pain was enough to tell her that she would have a massive welt and a pressure cut there the moment she let go of the chant.