From Darkness Won - Jill Williamson [122]
Your Highness! Are you well? Duchess Amal’s voice had never sounded so rushed and intense.
My ear was damaged, but I can hear fine.
Praise Arman, Prince Oren said. Come. Sir Gavin’s men have reached the drawbridge. Two black knights remain, and we must keep the chams at bay.
Achan floated toward the battle. What should I do?
Storm the chams on the east. Duchess Amal will stop the chams on the west. I will finish the black knights.
Achan slowed until he was ten paces from the nearest cham. He clutched the claw at his neck and simply stared at the beast, never having seen one in daylight. It was twice the size of any full-grown bear. A tendril of smoke rose up from its nostrils. Its mouth of fangs made Achan’s shoulder ache where a different cham’s teeth had once bit down.
The wall around the bear’s mind sent a chill over him. Achan pushed against it. His force paused, as if the man influencing the cham had placed all his shield power in one location. Achan pulled back, then darted forward in a new location. The shields caught him again. So he focused all his strength in one place as well and pushed through. The man’s shields tore like a tapestry that suddenly gave way.
Now that Achan had breached the shields, he threw the influencer’s mind from the cham as easily as knocking a child from a haystack in a game of mountain king. The cham shook its head like a wet dog, then sank on its forearms and brushed a paw at the bridle on its face. It turned its head and roared, sending a burst of flame that just missed the rider.
The rider tightened the reins, but the cham roared again and rolled. Achan winced. When the cham came back to all fours, the rider lay limp on the ground. The cham loped off, tossing its head and smoldering.
Achan turned his focus to the second cham. Its rider wielded a longsword, fighting one of Achan’s soldiers on the ground. The cham spat a stream of flames at another of Achan’s men. The soldier cowered behind his shield, then dropped it when the wood caught fire.
Achan looked into the bear’s mind and found the influencer. He easily pushed past the shields this time, but as he prepared to storm, the influencer lunged out of the cham, straight toward Achan. Just before impact, Achan recognized the man’s face. It was Khai Mageia, one of Esek’s guards.
Khai struck Achan, and the two tumbled head over heels through the air.
Didn’t you die? Achan asked. For I saw Vrell Sparrow stab you in the back.
Typical of that woman. Khai gripped Achan’s throat and squeezed. She betrays you as well, but you cannot see past her pretty face long enough to figure it out.
Achan pushed against Khai’s chin and dug at Khai’s fingers with his other hand. What are you talking about?
Your mind may be stronger, orphan prince, but I know how to use mine better.
An invisible force shot Achan into the sky like an arrow. He passed through a cluster of clouds and did not slow. What if he couldn’t stop? He felt Shamayim’s pull and flailed his arms and legs, trying to control his movement, doing all he could to reduce his speed. He was being pulled in!
BE STILL.
The heat from Arman’s voice calmed him instantly. He shuddered, wanting to obey Arman, yet still needing to try and stop himself from moving. At this speed he would fly right over the Pearly Gate. A little help?
CONCENTRATE.
Achan closed his eyes. He could feel himself still flying, but he pictured the drawbridge and opened his eyes.
He hovered at the foot of the drawbridge.
Praise You, Arman! Thank You! Thank You!
But when he looked up, a black knight stood before him, a ball of green flame raised in one hand.
Achan barely had time to widen his eyes before the black knight hurled the ball. The thought to wake occurred to him, but before he could connect idea to action, Prince Oren appeared between him and the black knight.