The soldier was only a dozen paces away when Sentar landed gently on his feet behind him, unnoticed by the legionnaire. Sentar’s hand shot forward, and he took the big Tingaran by the neck. Sentar squeezed, and with a snarl and a horrible crunch, he tore the soldier’s head from his neck. Blood spurted into the air.
The Tingaran’s body fell down, and his sword clattered to the wooden planks. Sentar threw the Tingaran’s head at Killian’s feet.
The people by the fire screamed and began to run.
Sentar smiled and whirled, launching fire at the fleeing people, taking them down in bright bursts of flame. He then turned back to Killian.
On his hands and knees, Killian looked down at the head, seeing the Tingaran’s wide eyes and feeling rage burn within. As Sentar came close, Killian leapt forward with all his remaining strength, flying through the air to bring his fists down on top of Sentar’s head.
His physical attack took his enemy by surprise as the twin blows struck home. Sentar reeled but struck back with a blast of air, throwing Killian twenty paces before he fell to the ground. Sentar probed his jaw and rubbed at his temple while Killian climbed back to his feet.
The two men faced each other.
“What a barbaric method of attack,” Sentar said.
Killian’s chest heaved as he glared at his enemy. Sentar spat a tooth out of his mouth and smiled, his teeth tinged with blood.
“Face me like a man,” Killian panted, attempting to steady his breathing as he straightened, clenching his fists at his sides.
“Unfortunately for you, I won’t descend to your level,” Sentar said. “I am not a man.” His icy stare was filled with menace. “I am a god.”
Killian tried to dodge to the side, but Sentar was faster. Black lightning wrapped around Killian’s body.
The glow of runes left his limbs.
Killian cried out in agony as his body convulsed, forcing his teeth together until he tasted blood. He was standing, but the only thing holding him up was the lightning, and when Sentar lowered his hands, Killian fell back to the wooden planks.
“I will make your death slow,” Sentar said.
Killian tried to think, but his mind was filled with pain.
“But not too slow,” said the Lord of the Night.
63
As the battle for Seranthia raged, every soldier knew that with the Wall gone the city was defenseless. The men fought with desperation, but even Amber could see the outcome was inevitable.
Outflanked, the allied army became surrounded. The last men standing fell inward against the press from the front, sides, and now behind. The once disciplined ranks of the allied army gave way to the formation of a defensive circle. There was no more use in strategy or tactics; this was simple survival.
Amber scanned the soldiers even as she was pressed inward. She searched for Miro, but he was nowhere in sight. The stormy dust in front of Seranthia still clouded her vision. Amber wished she could be with her husband. The war would soon be over.
The soldiers at the boundary fell, and the circle tightened. Those taking turns to rest in the center, the wounded and the tired, were pushed to the edge and fell in turn. The avengers were all down. The dirigibles had fled, their supplies of prismatic orbs exhausted. The last of the grenadiers had fallen long ago.
The expected sortie from the city had faltered in the dust.
Amber suddenly found herself at the perimeter, and once more she launched bolts of golden fire from her wand, though she could see its runes dim and knew it wouldn’t last much longer. Revenant warriors clawed and grasped at her, and she fought them off with precision strikes, but still they kept coming. An Alturan fell at her left, his hands futilely trying to hold back the red blood spurting from his throat, and a Veznan in orange came to take his place but fell in turn.
The circle tightened again, and Amber’s wand went dark.
She fell back from the boundary, and a Tingaran legionnaire in glowing armor took her place. Gasping and shivering with fear, Amber saw High Lord Tiesto grimace as he darted in and out of the enemy ranks. Bartolo and another bladesinger fought like whirlwinds, their song the only thing giving the defenders heart as they held their ground against the pressure.
More defenders fell, and the men began to look for somewhere to run. Amber could see their courage had failed them.
But they were in a circle, and there was nowhere for them to go.
Amber knelt and picked up a fallen Alturan’s bloody sword. She took a deep breath. She knew nothing about wielding a sword, but she was determined to die fighting. Perhaps her enchantress’s dress would give her some advantage.
As Amber prepared to leap back into the fray, she felt an intense longing for her homeland. She wanted to see her son. She looked one last time, back at the distant hills, in the direction of Altura.
Something appeared on the ridges.