“It’s no trick, look!”
Screams of joy and anguish, along with cries of pain and loss, rang out through the ranks of Blacksword soldiers. The angry shriek of a wyvern came howling out over it all, as the beast shot out of the huge depiction opening overhead, and sped away as quickly as it could. No longer bound by the demon-wizard’s will, it had no reason to risk the proximity of so many humans. A few arrows trailed up after the dark scaled creature, but none of them found its flesh.
King Jarrek let Queen Willa down to the rooftop as gently as he could manage, and then ran to the parapet wall. As the undead soldiers fell, he saw a white, misty form shimmer up from each of them, like so much smoke. Then, as if caught up in the gusts of a magical wind, they were swept away, toward the base of the swirling tower of light. Entire clouds of misty souls went tearing through the ruined city, on their way toward the sword’s judgment. The sight was as breathtaking as it was unnerving.
The guard at the stair landing had come up out of his hiding place, and stormed the roof screaming. “The castle is clear! The dead are dying! The dead are…”
His voice stopped suddenly, and his face contorted into a look of sheer panic, when he saw Queen Willa lying there on the deck. He was overcome with relief, when he knelt down beside her, and saw her eyelids flutter open.
“The dead have died, your Highness,” he said softly. “The night is won! I – I – I’ll call for a healer.”
A sudden surging sound, similar to that of raindrops hitting a tin roof, drew everyone on the tower top’s attention. Over the corpse of the Master Wizard Targon, a misty cloud formed and peeled away audibly before it shot away in a flash.
“Is it true?” Willa asked King Jarrek.
His front half was aglow with radiance from the golden light that held his attention fast.
“Aye, milady,” he answered in that Western way, without turning away from the scene before him.
His voice was full of awe, and reverence, but still tinged with deep sadness, and regret.
“I hope that it’s time for the kingdoms to unite again, because without help, I’ll never be able to free my people from the Dakaneese slavers. And King Ra’Gren, and that Westland wench, cannot get away without paying for their part in this.”
Mikahl felt something scratching on his stomach. Then, he felt a slight ball of warmth nestle down there. It was soft, feathery soft. He didn’t open his eyes, for he knew what it was. The soft cooing sound he could make out, over the supernatural din transpiring around him, could only come from one source: Talon.
Ironspike had healed the bird after all, or maybe the hawkling had just been stunned. Either way, Mikahl found that he had never felt safer in all his life as he did right then.
Lying half naked and weaponless on a death-strewn battlefield, there was no one else he would rather have watching over him.
Feeling safe and secure, it took only a fleeting moment for him to fade completely back into oblivion. There, his partially healed, and newly traumatized body, dragged him back down into the same comatose state that Vaegon had found him in when he had placed the replenished sword in his hands.
Chapter 59
The part of Shokin that had escaped the Nethers wrenched itself free of Pael’s body, and went tearing across the land, towards the Seal.
No one saw it, or heard its screams, because it had no physical substance, and could make no audible sound. It was there though, and clinging to it desperately, was Pael’s vile soul.
Over the farmlands of Middle Seaward, then across the rich grazing plains of Valleya, the formless entities went. Over the edge of O’Dakahn, the Dakaneese cesspool city that was now overcrowded with Wildermont slaves, the demon essence and its ghost-like parasite, continued on. Then, across the nearly deserted marshlands, where the Zard, and other denizens of the swamp used to live before Shaella had led them into Westland. Flashing up into the Dragon’s Tooth Spire, they flowed past Hyden Hawk and the dragon. Then, they were pulled with rude force, down into the molten crystal that was coursing through the carved symbols that made up the Seal.