In a panic, Mara raised her bow and fired a shot at the woman. The arrow plunged into her left side and she screamed and spun herself around, glaring at Mara. Another arrow struck the witch in the throat. She released a muffled gurgling sound as she clenched her neck. Her body flapped like a bird knocked from the sky. Talis ran towards the woman, tensed and ready to cut her down.
The drummers stopped the music and glowered at Mara. The woman’s eyes widened, as if witnessing death’s door. Her mouth hung open in horror and she gasped for air, like a carp plucked from a pond. But her words were trapped inside. She yanked the arrow from her neck and ripped out a chunk of bloodied flesh. A gush of blood drenched her robe. Then she flicked her wrists and twirled around in a brilliant whirl, and transformed herself back into the old woman from their hut.
Talis gaped at her. How could she morph like that?
As she gripped her neck, anger flashed across her face. She coughed out blood mixed with ash. After she fell to the ground, her body went into frenzied convulsions. The drummers turned towards her and started a peculiar rhythm, and the singers chanted in time with the drums and mimicked the movement of the witch’s seizures.
She rocketed up into the air and landed, standing like a queen before her subjects. She shouted at the moons, and released a deep, rolling laugh. When she lifted her chin, she revealed an unbroken neck.
“I am Ashtera. Who dares challenge me?” She let out a savage cry, and Talis covered his ears at the sound. Mara flew backwards from the witch’s powerful spell and skidded across the ground. She cried out in pain and clenched her temples.
“Bad girl, playing games with toys.” The witch wagged her clawed fingers at Mara.
Talis shouted at the woman, and thrust his sword at her chest. She tensed her fingers, as if tightening her grip around a ball. An immense pressure crushed his throat and he coughed and pushed back, trying to fight against the force of her power. A flow of blood streamed out of his nostril. He felt a terrible pain and knew he was dying, and understood that dying was the only way to ease the pain.
So he gripped harder on his sword, greater than the crushing force around his throat. It was as if the power of the sword had unlocked something inside, breathing life into his will. His mind was forged with a purpose: he must save the others. He couldn’t fail.
After he lifted his sword above his head, he brought it down until the hilt was in front of his chest. He tensed his arms, allowing the fire to surge through his body. With renewed force, he pressed back hard at Ashtera, slamming her against the ground. He leapt at her, slicing down as she lifted terrified eyes to face him. He felt the resistance from her neck bone as it met the blade. Her head twisted and fell to one side as its came partially off the trunk. The sword glowed blood-red as it struck. Ripples of fire washed through him.
The drummers and chanters stopped and gasped in horror. But they went back and stupidly beat their drums and chanted. All too late, for his second blow lopped her head off completely and sent it flying like a bloody windmill. The head lay still on the ground. Her eyes moved-searching for meaning.
Filaments of green light streamed out of her head and body. The dark life force that had sustained her coursed back into the fire. A pile of ash remained where she once lay. I feel it, he thought, the fire in the sword. He growled with power, his eyes feasting on the blade.
The chanters and drummers stood in shock. Talis turned his gaze towards them. He had to kill them. As he charged, the drummers reacted, beating out an angry tune. The chanter's strained voices sang a shrill, powerful song. He flung his hands to cover his ears and his sword fell, slicing into the wet soil. Under that immense pain, he crashed to his knees.
The drummers found a new rhythm and sent the voices of demons to invade his mind. A surge of electricity shot along the left side of his body, great jolts wracking his heart. A sudden command from a demon’s voice echoed inside: smash your head, that stone, do it now! He reached out and exhaled, fighting back. For all the magic Master Viridian had taught him, why couldn’t he have said anything about resisting this kind of magic? He grabbed the stone and pounded the ground, then glowered at them. He wouldn’t stop now. Jumping forward, he hammered the drummer's head, knocking him back.
So the chanters found a low voice, like the sound of ocean waves gurgling through pebbles. They focused on Talis and delivered their merged power at his body. He was whipped back until he crashed into a hut. He slammed his fist against the wet soil, allowing his anger to build up the fire inside.
The drummers sped up the rhythm until it built into a stuttered frenzy. Talis glared at them through the torn hut, determined to win. They moved and swayed to the song of the chanters, the light from an unholy fire filling their eyes. Dark magic flowed from each note.
He pushed himself up, and conjured flames in his mind’s eye. Filled with fire, it surged in at each breath, enveloping his lungs. His blood pulsed with heat and he was fire itself. His palms radiated power. The breath he held inside flamed to a feverish pitch until he exhaled and fire burst from his hands, spinning like a dancing dragon.
The flames punished a chanter's head, pouring into his eyes and gushing out of his feet. The chanter screamed in agony. His writhing body issued forth a stream of fire from his mouth, which ate into the drummer nearby.
The chanter and the drummer melted into ash and only their screams lingered in the forest.
Talis gazed, defiance raging in his eyes. He roared a horrific yell and fire exploded all around him: a multi-fingered fire ripping into village huts, setting them aflame. The fire tendrils issuing from him went wild, scorching tree trunks, drummers and chanters alike, until it seemed as if the whole world would turn into a blazing inferno. He felt a terrific agony inside and his bones and tendons buckled under the pressure.
Mara leapt aside as a wave of flame tore in front of her. She looked stunned. Like a rising crescendo, the flames billowed higher: unceasing, unrelenting, and caring little for where they struck. Another flame nearly seared her hair as it ripped past her.
“Talis, stop!” she yelled. He heard her voice, as if from a faraway land, muddled by time, as if a great ocean was in between. Inside his mind, he pictured the fires of the Underworld, a sea of churning red and black embers. More flames leapt out until it seemed the air itself would take to flame.
She screamed at Talis. “Enough! You'll kill us all.”
Talis blinked, pulling out of a dark tunnel at the speed of a falcon’s dive. He stared at Mara, his senses coming back. What was he doing? He glanced around at the destruction. Had he caused all this? His body still vibrated with the pulse of his charged heart and the heat fevered inside.
He noticed the movement of his enemies and his determination returned. He wouldn’t rest until they were all dead. Wielding his sword, the fire rose again. One chanter fled into the shadows, searching for consolation. Another drummer threw down her drum, and grabbed a rock and lunged at Talis. He dodged and cut her down. The vial of her body spilled opened and spewed ash. The remaining enemies fled into the darkness.
Fire raged everywhere.
Talis glanced around. His friends had come out of their trances. Mara looked tired, as if she hadn’t slept in days. Lenora and Nuella cringed next to Rikar and Nikulo, staring at Talis as if he was some kind of a monster. Lenora’s father, the blademaster, and the sorceress were all gone. What had happened to them? The huts blazed and the green fire went cold. The silent bones seemed to cry out.
“Where’s your father?” Talis said to Lenora.