Jasmine was bleeding, badly. She backed away up the stairs, flanked by the few able-bodied tribesmen left as, behind them, the wounded that could still walk dragged those who couldn’t. Asim was among their number, still breathing, but in a critical condition. She wiped the blood from her eyes and gripped her spear tighter. She would not let the beasts have him.
A raptor raced up the stairs at the survivors, and Jasmine stepped forward, thrusting her spear into its chest. It screeched and flailed, dragging itself forward onto the shaft in a desperate attempt to reach Jasmine before it died. She tried to retreat, but her desperate scramble only dragged the thrashing bird up the stairs with her. One of the Gundagaal saved her, knocking it back into the crowd below with a powerful kick, but the Jasmine’s spear was ripped from her blood slicked hands as it fell.
Jasmine cried out and lunged after it, but another tribesman yanked her backwards by the scruff of her cloak as a drake lunged for her. She lost her balance and fell, her saviour stepping forward and driving his spear into the drake’s mouth, the others closing in beside him and presenting a wall of spears as they resumed their steady march back up the stairs.
With no magic and no weapon, Jasmine had no choice but to abandon the fight. She rushed to the nearest wounded tribesman to help him drag his comatose charge back up the stairs. They locked eyes for a moment, and she saw grim resignation.
The second floor opened up into a broad, semicircular mezzanine, hallways and rooms branching off from the back wall. Once they reached the top of the stairs, they were done for. They didn’t have enough fighters left to cover such a wide area. The beasts would outflank them and take them apart with gnashing teeth and slashing claws. They had fought well, but they were running out of strategies and fighters and their defence was about to come to its bloody and inevitable conclusion.
She gritted her teeth and kept dragging the wounded man, doing her best to keep pace with the other tribesman as her breath came in ragged gasps, a long gash in her forearm pulsing in time with her heartbeat. She paused a few steps from the top, her lungs blowing like bellows, and though it was only a few paces away, it may as well have been a mountain.
From behind came a blood-curdling scream, and she turned to find her saviour from before on the ground, his leg almost severed below the knee by a raptor. He thrust his spear through the bird as his final retribution before a drake seized him, dragging him into the crowd. His screams rose to a terrible crescendo, then cut off, and the horde surged forward. The line of tribesman sagged under the onslaught, but held, barely.
Until the outer wall of the college exploded inwards, and Maw’Groth broke through.
The survivors broke, turning heel and fleeing up the stairs, no thought left beyond surviving just a few more seconds, panic pushing any logical thoughts from their minds. Jasmine cursed, fear giving her a second wind, and she leapt the last few steps, her legs screaming in protest and her mind telling them to shut the fuck up.
But the protesting legs won the argument. She reached the mezzanine and tried to run, but toppled instead, her limbs unable to honour her commands. Her companion gave up on both her and the wounded tribesman, running off down the nearest hallway as their charge tumbled to the ground with her, rolling away and coming to a stop on his side. Groaning and sobbing, she crawled, hand over hand, kicking with her feet until she was close enough to grab the warrior and pull him onto his back. His chest wasn’t moving anymore, and she pressed her fingers to his neck, searching for a pulse.
He was dead.
She sighed and pulled herself up, first to a sitting position, and then to her feet as the first drake crested the stairs just a few feet away. Behind it, the horde suddenly turned on itself, birds and reptiles alike tearing into each other with desperate fury and fear. She thought it exceptionally odd, and would have been overjoyed at the turn of events, but unfortunately, the mania gripping the others didn’t seem to faze the drake stalking her now.
She was alone, no weapon, no magic, and the survivors were either battling for their lives or fleeing deeper into the college. With no cards left to play, she balled her hands into fists and held them to her chin, throwing out a few experimental jabs as the drake advanced. If she was to die here, she would die on her feet, and she resolved to claim at least one of the bastard’s eyes first.
She had been close to drakes before, but she had never really examined them, what with the gnashing teeth and a survival drive distracting her. Now that she had no more options left, she took the time to actually look at this one. After all, she was a scientist at heart, and it wasn’t like she would be any less dead soon.
It knew it had time on its side and seemed relaxed as it approached. It was old and large, but the mottled pattern she had seen on the younger drakes had faded, replaced by a darker hue and much thicker scutes. Jasmine guessed it didn’t need as much camouflage after it became large enough to kill and eat most anything else in the jungle. But the most striking thing was its eyes.
She had seen skinks and snakes before, golden yellow orbs split by a black slit, but this was different. The eyes of the other reptiles were cold and vacant, nothing behind them but a passive drive to feed and reproduce. But as the drake regarded her, she saw a level of intellect in its gaze that surprised her.
It stared at her intently, but periodically its eyes flicked around, checking for other threats or opportunities for weaker prey. The gaze was analytical, flicking from her eyes, to her hands, to her feet, looking for any clues about what her next move would be. It seemed cautious, like it thought this was too easy and was expecting some sort of trap. When it was just a few feet away, almost close enough to strike, it abruptly changed direction and started circling her.
Jasmine followed its movements with her own, walking slowly, keeping her front and her eyes facing the beast. She growled, low in her throat, when she realised what it was doing. It was putting her back to the rest of the horde to split her attention.
Clever girl.
Jasmine strained her ears. The horde was consuming itself behind her, and the closest beasts still sounded a reasonably safe distance away, but that could change in a second, especially if her vulnerable back attracted the attention of a raptor. Her mind raced, casting around for options or anything she could use, until she remembered she had resigned herself to death, anyway. The only choice was the drake to her front or a raptor to the back. It might be easier to not see it coming, if it was quick, but that wasn’t who she was. She had resolved to take one of the bastard’s eyes, and that was what she was going to do.
Her hands curled into claws, ready to rip and tear, and she advanced. She might not survive this, but this creature would sure as Pit remember her when this was done. Their eyes were locked, just a few paces away from each other, and Jasmine tensed, ready to pounce, when she saw movement behind the drake.
And just like that, her heart was gripped in the icy clutch of paralysing fear, and she became acutely aware of just how close she was to one of the deadliest predators in the world. The fear came flooding back, because now, she had a chance at survival again.
The beast lurched forward, snapping at her, and she dove to the side, its jaws snagging the hem of her robe at the same time it was engulfed in shadow. In seconds, it was nothing more than ash as Rory stumbled out of an adjoining corridor, darkness flowing from his hands to snare the closest members of the horde.
He looked pale and a little unsteady on his feet, but he was nothing compared to Ferez and Alincia as they followed him. Ferez was gaunt, the effort of staying on his feet causing tremors, while Alincia fell against the wall and slid to the ground, eyelids fluttering from exhaustion as she fought to stay conscious.
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Jasmine ran to Ferez and embraced him, fighting back tears as a flood of emotions poured over her. The release of tension and fear, and the relief that flooded through her, mingled with the memories of broken bodies and the screams of the dying as the horde devoured them. She had been moments from that same fate, and she was struggling to process this development.
“What took you so long?” she asked between sobs. Jasmine felt her mentor’s arms envelop her as he gently hushed her.
“I’m sorry, my dear. But we are here now, everything will be alright.”
Jasmine pulled back and glared at him through bleary eyes. She thumped her fists against his chest and screamed.
“Nothing is alright, so many have died. I almost died! What took you so long?”
“Jasmine, please calm down. Alincia worked as fast as she could, but the projectile had shattered when it struck bone, releasing a potent toxin into Rory’s blood. We had to cut out each of the shards and neutralise the poison before we could repair the damage and infuse him with enough magical power to fight again. Elizabeth clearly prepared for us this time.”
Jasmine stopped beating against Ferez’s chest. All this was because of Elizabeth? Again?
“I swear to the Pantheon, I will kill her. There will be nothing left of her body to bury when I am done.”
“There will be time to discuss that later, Jasmine. For now, let us gather the wounded. This fight is not over yet.”
Jasmine looked back over her shoulder and saw what he said was true. A little over half the horde was dead after the unexplained infighting, but the survivors had unified once more and were back on the offensive. Rory stood at the head of the stairs, waves of shadow washing over the horde and rapidly eating into their numbers. But Jasmine didn’t know how much Talent he had left. And on top of everything else, Maw’Groth had created enough of an opening to drag itself into the college. When fresh, Jasmine didn’t doubt Rory would have been a match for it, but in his current state, she wasn’t so sure. She stumbled over, unsure what she could do, but desperate to do something.
Rory spared her a quick glance, but didn’t say anything as he continued to strip the horde. Unable to gain any ground, the beasts pulled back beyond the range of Rory’s magic, as though reassessing the situation. Jasmine frowned. It was clear this was no ordinary gaggle of apex predators, but how did they know the limit of Rory’s magic range? And then it clicked.
The robed figures with their brassy staves.
Brassy, like Asim’s halberd. They were Resonance Weapons, and Jasmine would bet every scrap of coin she had that, somehow, those weapons were being used to drive the horde. She rushed to the railing, scanning the beasts.
“Jasmine, get back from there!” Rory called.
“He has to be here!” she called back.
“Who are you talking about?”
The bastard was here, controlling the beasts, or at least the ones left. He had to be close enough to see Rory; it was the only explanation for the sudden withdrawal.
“The mage controlling Maw’Groth! He’s in here somewhere!”
“A mage is doing this?”
“It’s the only explanation. One of those guildsmen we saw outside the city, he’s doing this and he’s close enough to see you.”
She cast her eyes about, but all she could see were raptors and drakes, eerily still and staring. The only movement came from Maw’Groth as it slowly dragged itself deeper into the college.
There. At its feet. The guildsman, his face upturned but shrouded in darkness. The figure knew the Pyris mages had nothing left and that Rory couldn’t touch him. It was brazen, just standing there in the open, but at the same time, he had every right to be. Maw’Groth’s titanic jaws opened, and a noise Jasmine could only describe as a thunderous hiss accompanied a wave of noxious fumes as it washed over them.
“Apprentice Jasmine, I don’t suppose you have the spare capacity to deal with that bastard?” Rory asked, gesturing to the figure at the beast’s feet.
“Not unless he comes close enough for me to throttle him. If you top me up, though, I’ll be able to get him.”
“We do not have time for a transfer.”
“We would if you surge it.”
Rory shot her a wild look, and Jasmine couldn’t blame him if he doubted her sanity. She was referring to an extremely risky practice. Talent transfers were slow and deliberate. In a serious enough pinch, though, Talent could be dumped into a mage in a matter of seconds. It was generally not done, however, as the sudden uncontrolled influx of power tended to cause severe physical side effects. Headaches, nausea, bloating.
Internal haemorrhaging. Death. That sort of thing.
“That is not an option,” he said, his face troubled. “I suppose there is only one course of action left.”
Rory started walking down the stairs towards the horde.
“Rory, where are you going?” Jasmine asked. “You can’t defeat all of them by yourself.”
“I know, but if I can get close enough to kill the fellow in the hood, there is a chance for everyone else.”
Jasmine couldn’t believe it. Rory was planning to sacrifice himself to save the rest of them.
“Rory! No! There will be another way, a back door we can escape through? Or another bottleneck to hold where Maw’Groth can’t reach?”
“There isn’t Jasmine. And even if there were, we would never make it. The raptors would run us down in seconds.”
“Ferez!” she called, spinning to find her mentor. “Stop him!”
Ferez dutifully walked over and grasped Rory by the shoulder, regarding him intently. Then he nodded, bent over, and picked up a spear from where it had fallen and stood beside the Umbral mage at the head of the stairs.
“He is right, Jasmine. This is all we can do.”
“No, it is not! There will be another way!”
“Jasmine. There is not,” Ferez said finally, hefting the spear. He started talking again, something about goodbyes and the joys of seeing her growing up, but Jasmine wasn’t listening. She was staring at his spear. She had seen how dangerous those could be in the hands of the Calandorians when they threw them. She looked back to the guildsman, gauging the distance. He was further away than she was comfortable with, but she had the advantage of the high ground. She could make the throw.
She had to.
She glanced around and found a spear nearby, lying in an ominous puddle of blood. She snatched it and backed up from the railing.
“Jasmine? What are you doing?” Ferez yelled.
“Teaching the bastard a lesson in respect!” she yelled back as she ran forward and hurled the spear with all her might, willing it to find its target. It soared in a graceful arc, cutting through the air, rapidly closing the distance to the hooded figure. And then it struck.
The floor.
The assassin watched impassively as it hit the tiles and bounced past him. He followed its trajectory until it came to a stop, then turned back to stare at her. She realised, with a fresh surge of anger, that his shoulders were bouncing up and down. The bastard was laughing at her!
And then something grasped her ankle. She looked down to find Alincia lying on the floor, holding her.
“This is going to hurt,” she mumbled.
Jasmine screamed as Talent flowed through her. It felt like she had been set alight, intense agony spreading from her ankle throughout her body. She fell to her knees as her heart ruptured and her lungs immolated from the inside out, and she knew she was about to die.
Except she didn’t. Somehow, she was still breathing, and blood was still pounding through her veins. She looked down, confused, to find Alincia’s other hand on her other ankle. She was dumping Talent into her body with one hand and plugging the wounds with the other at the same time. It was a feat of control and power Jasmine wouldn’t have thought possible, but nonetheless, Alincia was doing it.
And Jasmine really wished she hadn’t. Nevertheless, as Alincia finished her work and passed out, her hands falling limply to the floor, Jasmine felt her magic return. It was a tiny drop in an ocean, barely a thimbleful of magic compared to her normal pool of Talent, but even so, it was there. She looked back at the guildsman, extended a hand, and incinerated him where he stood. He didn’t even have time to stop laughing.
As he died, chaos broke out among the horde. With the last controller dead, the beasts were released from their control and found themselves surrounded by predators and prey. They turned on each other with even more ferocity than before, the ground flooding with the blood of the dead. Maw’Groth shook its head in a daze until a plucky raptor optimistically attacked one of its ankles. The giant roared and crushed the bird beneath its claws, then seemed to notice its surroundings.
It began thrashing, working its way back out of the tight hole it had woken to find itself in, crushing drake and raptor alike beneath its bulk. By the time it had freed itself and disappeared back into the jungle, the horde was all but eradicated, the few surviving animals scattering into the city, trying to escape the slaughterhouse of the college.
Seeing this all, Jasmine smiled. She struggled to believe it, but somehow, they had actually won. She slid to the floor, one hand on the railing, one hand finding Alincia’s own, and squeezed.
“Thank you, Adept Alincia. I do believe you may have saved us all.”
“No thanks needed, Jasmine. It was a team effort,” she mumbled, her eyes still closed.
Jasmine laughed softly and pulled herself back to her feet. She started hobbling down the stairs, acutely aware of every ache and pain in her body. She passed Rory, seated on the stairs with his head in his hands, and told him he needed to get Alincia back on her feet and recharged. There were wounded Gundies who needed urgent medical attention, not to mention Asim. He nodded and hauled himself back up the stairs. She passed Ferez next, still looking like he was about to collapse, but now trawling through the carnage on the bottom floor looking for any survivors. He called out to her as she passed.
“Jasmine, where are you going? There could still be drakes out there,” he said as he half ran, half stumbled after her.
“I know,” she replied over her shoulder, “and my marines too.”