Something very, very big.
The great ring wall cracked. Little fractured pieces of light crushed out of every joint as though the magic were being wrung out of it like water from a rag.
An ear-splitting crack made the tower tremble. Taliette tumbled across the deck. Llan sprawled on top of her.
Then, an absolute ringing silence, as though all the sound had gone from the world, and Taliette feared she had gone deaf until a rushing, gathering howl that seemed to carry the whole world with it, as though the whole clean world were being sucked out through a tiny hole in space and something new was squeezing through into the gap.
Something very, very big.
Then, the wall wasn't there anymore. A grinding crunch, like teeth on rock. Huge pieces of masonry were spinning, end over end, high in the air, suspended like thistledown, but only for a moment.
"No," whispered her heart. "No, it's too soon."
Rocks pounded the ground like fists. A tree exploded. A huge arch cartwheeled into the side of the Caer Llandrel, one great wall folded in half, then fell in a fountain of dust and ashes. Another massive stone zipped right down into the pit in a silent eyeblink. Pebbles and dust pattered across the deck like hail. Llandred pulled his cloak over her head and they sheltered there as the small pieces of wall thumped and bounced around them.
The sky turned red, and in the redness, something was moving.
An enormous figure was wading through the breach. The stones of the Grendlewald lay scattered like mounds of pebbles. Smoke billowed behind it, hiding the sky. It was beautiful, sinuous. It moved like a dancer, slow and perfect on pointed toes. It was dark red in colour, and it shone like the dawn. The enormous sword it dragged in its wake was black as the pit.
Flavien was down on the lawn with Frantzen. Both men had found white swords from somewhere. With a cry, they charged the enormous creature. Each took a flank. Flavien leapt and brought his blade down on the pointed foot. It glanced off in a shower of sparks. The massive creature dragged its own sword through the breach and swung it around. Flavien fell flat, and the sword scythed through the air just above his head. Frantzen was not so lucky. The armoured fist caught him a glancing blow and he fell, blood pouring from a wound on his side.
The creature knelt, one huge mailed gauntlet grabbing at Flavien. He skipped to one side, his hips and feet appearing to move in different directions, then he leapt over the outstretched palm, swiping with his sword and scoring a line along it, but the creature was fast, it snatched Flavien out of the air with its other hand and there was nothing he could do to avoid it, yet still he had his sword, slashing over and over at the metal fingers that gripped him.
Taliette watched, half-covered by the cloak. Llan's heart was thumping close to her ear. His breath was hot and quick.
“Surely it will crush him,” she whispered, but it didn’t.
Instead, it reached around, and with a little crack, pinched Flavien’s sword hand off at the wrist. Flavien’s wails were tiny next to the giant creature, a pointless little ant, barely audible. A speck on the face of majesty.
Franzen was still staggering across the field. His side was a mess of red. The creature crouched and watched him. Waited. Waited a little longer. Frantzen was almost at the edge of the trees, staggering in zigzags, almost falling.
"It’s playing with him," she said. She tried to keep her voice neutral, but it was so funny to watch him staggering like that. The creature was going to grab him, and then, who knew what it would do? She could hardly keep from grinning.
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"Are you enjoying this?" said Llan.
"No?"
"Careful," whispered her heart.
The massive creature reached out one long elegant arm and snatched up the running man. It held the two up to its face, eye to eye. Flavien had stopped screaming and was only whimpering, clutching the broken-off stump of his arm.
"Do you think it’s going to eat them?" Taliette said.
But it didn’t eat them. It brought them closer together until the two men were staring into each other’s faces, and then it began pressing them into each other, head to head, grinding their skulls into each other. Flavien broke first. His head popped open like an overripe fruit. Frantzen lolled in the fist, covered in his friend’s brains.
She heard Llan let out a gasp. "Lay flat," he said. "Under the cloak. Maybe it won't see us."
"It'll see us."
The creature tossed Frantzen into the air, flipped him over, held him upside down for a moment, studying him. Its face was like an insect, hard and expressionless. Taliette could feel it’s mind working. It was deciding on the most pleasing ending. There was no love, no pity, only aesthetics. She could see the man starting to move again. There was a little crack as it pinched his leg off at the knee, then in a swift whirl of movement, it tossed the man high into the air. He span up and up, higher and higher, flopping around in the air like a fish. Blood sprayed from the wound in looping spirals that painted the sky pink.
"It's an artist," murmured Taliette. "Everything it does is amazing."
"Look out!" yelled Llan, shoving her to one side and covering her with his body.
Frantzen slapped down in the middle of the wooden deck like a sack of meat. Blood burst across the battlements, splashed the walls, her boots, Llan's cloak. It misted her face and got in her eyes. She could taste it in the air.
The creature stood up slowly, straightening its long body piece by piece, taking its time. It was glorious, the back arched, the shoulders narrow, the hips pushed forward, the little head, like an insect, so calm and interested. Blood was dripping from its hands in slow, goopy swags. She felt it looking right at her, the pressure of its gaze. She felt it seeing her, Seeing right inside her in a way that no one, not Hal, not even Gintas had ever seen her before, and she felt a tingling, throbbing sensation right in the middle of her, right in the secret centre of her that built into a crescendo and left her knees weak.
Then it looked away. The head turned slowly, scanning the area, the woods, the pit, the castle.
“We have to get to the trees!” yelled Llan.
“No,” she said. “No, it’s not after us.”
High in the Caer Llandrel, in the window of the topmost tower, a tiny star was shining.
"Fen," cried Llandred. "No, you bastard, down here, not up there!"
But the creature ignored him. It was already halfway to the house. Fuck it was tall, like a tree, and the way it moved was like a tree too, willowy and swaying, as though it were spilling the wind from its sides. Every step was a song. Every small motion of the hips was poetry. It was everything she always wanted to be, and that feeling when it had looked at her, hot and tense and tight. Taliette felt a shiver go down her spine.
"I promised I wouldn't let them get her!" yelled Llan.
"Are you going to be the hero?" whispered her heart.
"You're fucking kidding me, right?"
"Worlds will be yours," whispered her heart.
“But how am I supposed to..?”
"Worlds," whispered her heart.
She gritted her teeth. Fucking Gintas. The fool Aden boy was still hovering next to her with his mouth open. He looked like he was going to cry or be sick or something.
"How good are you with that sword?" She asked.
"I know the twelve points of the fourfold way."
"That means you can swing it, right?"
He grinned at her, perhaps there was some spark left in him. "I can swing it."
"Good.” She flashed a wink at him and favoured him with a wicked smile. “Let’s go fight a monster."
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Fen clung to the windowsill. The bristly man was still pounding at the door. The dresser jumped a little and the bottles and jars on it rattled and clinked.
But the thumping at the door was nothing. She barely heard it. There was a Sintarael at the gate.
Its fingers were hooked, its head was like a husk, hard and expressionless. It had killed those two men without a thought. They had been Grandfather's men, but they hadn't deserved to die like that. No one deserved that. It had played with them as a cat plays with a mouse. It had pulled them apart while they were crying.
Llan and Taliette were on top of the tower by the endless pit, staring right at it, as though they were challenging it to come closer. Llan had his sword out. He was shining in the evening light. Taliette was tiny next to him. Llan wouldn't be afraid. He wasn't afraid of anything.
The monster didn't move. Was it really afraid of them? It was staring right at them. But no, it was just resting. Its gaze, like a beam of hot sunlight, travelled up, up, and oh, it was looking at her window. It was faster than the wind, faster than thought. It had covered half the distance to the tower before she could catch her breath. It was coming
It was coming for her.