Norrah plunged her sword deep into the head of the bird creature as Asher reached her, and it dropped to the ground in a mess of bones and blood. Norrah was bleeding also; a nasty gash had sliced across her collar and her arm, tearing her coat. She was breathing heavily and she was covered in dirt, but her dark eyes shone with rage and determination. Before he could say anything, a part of the rubble ahead of them exploded outwards, and large, scale covered creatures with pointed metal sticks for limbs and fish eyes climbed out, four of them fixing on the two of them.
‘Oh, come on,’ Norrah growled. ‘Come on. Bring it!’
The four Fienta charged, and Asher rammed his sword forward as Norrah prepared a swing, when a gunshot split through the air and one of the monsters slammed into the ground, white fire flickering out from the gaping hole in its face.
Gershwin locked the next bullet into her rifle with a practiced motion, then caught another one in the eye as Norrah swung her sword wide and knocked the third into the fourth. Asher loosened the dust still covering his hands and tossed it over the two of them, his stomach knotting as they burst into flame. There was no end to this.
This time when something slammed into his side, Asher could only shout in surprise, and seeing Gershwin only as she tightened her hug didn’t make his bones squirm any less. Sara followed close behind, offering a quiet hello to Norrah.
‘Oh, I know you don’t like it, but let me have this,’ Gershwin said. ‘You gave us both a horrible fright, being arrested like that.’
‘I’m alright,’ Asher said.
Gershwin responded by smacking her lips into his cheek in a dry and playful kiss. ‘This change suits you, you know that?’
Asher’s cheeks burned.
‘We can’t stop this,’ Sara mumbled. ‘There’s not enough of us.’
‘I know,’ Asher said. ‘Penn has the Nakati trying from their side. He said the only thing we could do is keep fighting them off so they don’t end up in his world.’
Sara shifted again, and Asher turned to see a third figure approaching their little group. Iain Derrian carried a sword as long as he was tall, his face dirty and his expression angry. ‘How’d I know you lot would be here?’ he demanded.
Asher’s stomach churned. ‘Look, I know there’s history here, but it’s really not the time.’
‘Oh, isn’t it?’ Iain demanded. ‘I didn’t notice. I took a stroll with my grandfather’s sword and didn’t notice the fucking world was ending!’
‘What do you want, Iain?’ Gershwin asked.
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‘If it pleases the court, Hadley had a way of disrupting the rings,’ Iain said. ‘Do you want to hear about it, or did your common sense die with her?’
‘That’s not what—’ Sara’s words cut off as Asher held his hand up.
‘Not now,’ he pressed. ‘If you know how, we could help.’
Iain’s brow furrowed. ‘Did you stick your head in that spirit place or something? When did you become a real witch?’
‘Recently,’ Asher said. ‘Tell me you have a plan.’
Iain laughed then, a harsh and loud sound. ‘Get yourself a pocket of magic sand. We can split up.’
‘Here.’ Sara took Asher’s hand and dropped a heavy pouch into it, the top sealed tight. She didn’t let go of him, instead met his gaze. ‘You really scared me, you know that?’
‘I’m sorry,’ Asher said. ‘I just—’
‘Are you alright?’
Asher nodded. ‘Yeah. Considering everything. They haven’t got me—’
‘No, I mean…’ Sara swallowed. ‘You were so scared. Are you okay?’
‘Yes,’ Asher said. ‘I’m fine, I promise.’
‘Are you two waiting for more to come out of that hole?’ Iain demanded. ‘Let’s go!’
They rushed back towards the ring after Iain, who rammed the giant sword into a crack that burst open at his feet. Something underneath roared angrily.
‘You still mix dust into your smelting?’ Gershwin asked.
Iain ignored her and dropped to his knees, brushing at the ash ring until the cracks beneath it showed in their inky blackness.
A scream tore Asher’s attention away as more pillars of fur flopped across the sand, towards the Town Hall. On the steps were more Fienta then before, and even more still climbing up the broken stairs. In the centre of the mass was Penn. He still had the spear – now twice as long as it had been – and was smacking and stabbing and pushing at the creatures that had now singled him out and were descending on him fast. Large rocks with stubby legs rolled up the stairs only to be pushed back down with a swift kick, while skeletons still damp with the rotted remains of flesh clung to them grabbed and swiped, their bones shattering as the spear parried. Penn had abandoned his disguise, and his horns were a weapon of their own, curling around his head and then shooting straight up to fend off attacks from behind. Still, they kept coming.
Gershwin said something next to him, but Asher wasn’t listening. He glanced around for another spirit flittering around, but there was nothing, no life left in the area. The pouch he had hooked onto his belt had to do. He charged forward.
Penn’s spear snapped. In the same moment the man cried out in alarm, a dozen stones and limbs and scales and claws had him, ripping at his clothes and shoving him around, before one picked him up and threw him into the hole in the sand.
Penn disappeared into the black.
No. Asher froze in place as the old nightmare came rushing back. As the Fienta dove into the hole after him, some falling while others gleefully flung themselves over the edge, images of Nararre filled his head, images of a weak, unconscious man being dragged into the dark, never to be seen again.
No. Not again.
Someone screamed behind him, but Asher was already running. Ignoring a blinding pain that shot through his bad leg, he charged towards the hole, sucked in a deep breath, then leapt over the edge into the darkness below.
He fell.
He kept falling.
Nothing but empty black surrounded him, the sound of wind rushing past his ears the only sound, aside from his own racing heart. He became weightless, floating, falling, and he wondered if he would meet a messy end at a very solid bottom. Then water swallowed him as though it had reached up to grab him. Icy wet submerged him completely, and he sank down and down, until he fell into open air once again. With air came gravity, and his body flipped with enough force to make his head spin. Asher sat up, coughing, and spluttering as the cold bit down onto his skin, and he took in the darkness around him.
He was back in Le Torkani.