48

Chapter 46

There was no attack from the tunnel for long hours, and when our scouts finally returned, they brought grim news. The city was already under siege by another force of Pure. Bani'kari was dead, killed by the very traitors he himself had sheltered. And Ramana's minister had been injured as well, depriving the city's defense of a powerful sorcerer.

I was lucky that my play with Myta during our rest had purified the mana I'd absorbed. I'd be needing that strength soon, it seemed.

"Tell me our options," I said to Myta and her second. "What do you think is happening here?"

"There was obviously a three pronged assault planned." My vas squinted in thought, while Hati just nodded. The larger woman hadn't had much sleep, as her rest period had been interrupted by the news. "Tarun bringing word set off their agents in the city, which then sparked this attack. I'm just glad he got here ahead of whatever they were waiting for. If they'd all attacked at once, and with surprise? The Pure wouldn't have needed more than a third of these forces to take the city.

"As for options..." she paused. "Tarun has told us that the city is already compromised. The wall was breached in the surprise attack, and there is fighting in the streets. But, the guard has contained the enemy in the trade quarter. If our friends in the tunnels divert to aid that assault, or push through here, Bani will fall."

"And we don't know for certain that they don't have an exit close to the walls." I observed.

"Yes. So we have to bottle them up here, but we also need to send aid to the city." She looked at me, and I could feel the pain in her thoughts. I spoke aloud what she was already thinking.

"Hati, we need you and the company to hold this exit. Mytan and I will go to aid Tarun." Hati nodded grimly, seeing the reality as well as we did.

If the sorcerers and demons attacked our company while we were gone, our people would be slaughtered. But if they rerouted and joined the front above, as currently seemed likely, the end result would be the same. Ket could go back to explore the ruin, but if the mana users were waiting she would be immediately attacked. Even if that didn't happen, the best case scenario was that we learned we needed to leave anyway. Given her difficulties passing the wards, it would just consume more time.

"Ket, would you remain here and let us know if the sorcerers attack? Otherwise we have no way to communicate."

*I will. Though if you practiced using your bonds more, that wouldn't be necessary." She responded with some asperity. Not truly angry, but scolding, like a disappointed tutor.

It sparked a thought in me, something borderline desperate. But, was it really that different from what we'd already done? I was flush with mana from the sorcerer whose spirit I'd consumed, and my connection to my vasra was filtered through Myta. This could work.

"I want to try something, to give you all an extra edge. In case something goes wrong." I spoke to Hati again. "This shouldn't be as dangerous as the tempering ritual, but it will carry the same type of risk. See if the company agrees."

"They will." Hati moved off without another word. She hadn't been protesting, just stating a fact. I wondered where her confidence, or their confidence, came from. Was it just blind acceptance, or was it faith?

"Master, what are you thinking? You made a leap I couldn't follow." Myta's heart was singing with hope now, her fear receding slightly as she felt my own optimism. She, at least, was definitely fueled by her confidence in me. My vas had had her fill of blind obedience. I only hoped I could live up to her trust.

I was about to respond to her question, when a thunderous shout rose from the company. The noise made me wince, even as the feeling behind it brought a small smile to my face.

"It was as I said, Esur'uk." Hati called from in front of our assembled soldiers. "None object."

"I am going to lend them my mana," I looked at Myta. "Through you. I think that if it is filtered through you, they will benefit from it as easily as you can, without harming themselves. It won't make them sorcerers, exactly. But they should see the same benefits as lesser awakened beasts."

My flame nodded, and I felt her hope surge more. With that kind of strength, our company had a far better chance of delaying the pure until we could arrive to assist. It increased their chances of survival by an order of magnitude, should the worst happen.

"What do I need to do?" Myta had no doubt in her. Her eyes, and her spirit, were fierce and bright.

"Nothing worse than what we've done before, I don't think. Just try to accept my power, and blunt my will from it as much as you can. I'll do the rest."

We settled into meditative poses, and I reached out to my vas through our bond. She met my soul with her own, and her soul embraced me like the hug of a lover, or perhaps that of a small child for their parent. Trusting, joyful, and warm. I took just a moment to savor it, sending back my own love, before touched the bonds that passed through her.

Gently, as gently as I could, I offered my mana to the link. Myta drew it from me, and I didn't need to apply my will at all, tried not to apply it at all. It was difficult, as I wanted so badly for this to succeed, for our people to be strong and safe. So I distracted myself by focusing on what I felt from them instead.

There was Hati, whose loyalty to us ran far deeper than I had realized. She'd grown up derided and abused for her size, and become fierce in her determination to gain strength. To become so strong that no one could hurt her again. Then there was Jito. He'd once been the scion of a wealthy merchant family, but had cast that aside to seek adventure. There was a time when women had pursued him constantly, and though he knew it was vain, the scars he'd taken had made him fear he would now be isolated and alone. Our healing of him had eased that fear, but also refocused his priorities.

Denu was a wounded bird right now, her confidence cracked, almost to the point where it might shatter. She'd been traveling with her mother long enough, avoided danger so many times, that she'd begun to feel invincible. Futa's assault had shaken her badly, but Guta's support had been a balm since then. It was a strange dynamic between them. One that Myta and I would need to keep an eye on. But they might help one another heal from their emotional wounds.

I looked to each member of our company in turn, and felt the look to me. Some of them felt awe, or fear, but I let them see my concern for them, and my confidence in their abilities. Myta followed my lead.

I let her draw my mana until the spirits of the company would strain to hold more. When it was done, my reserve was half empty. Not ideal, given what we would be walking into, but it would be worth it to give our company a better fighting chance. I wasn't quite prepared for their expressions when we emerged from our meditation. Our people looked at Myta, or perhaps both of us, with a kind of reverence in their gazes.

"I'll lead you out, and then return here." Denu broke the tension of the moment, and I nodded my thanks to her. Myta didn't say anything, but she brought her fist to her chest and bowed to her students. The clamor as they did the same was as thunderous as their earlier shout. And their bows would not have been deeper if Ramana himself were standing before us.

There was nothing more to be said. Denu led us up, through halls that felt vaguely familiar to me. Of course I had certainly never been here before. But the large fitted blocks of dark stone, covered in places with bas-reliefs, struck me as familiar. I was glad of Denu's presence, as the markings the Pure had left were difficult to spot. Charcoal black, on dark stone, in uncertain lighting.

Even so, the climb wasn't long, and we soon found ourselves blinking in the sunlight. Bani spread out below us, grand buildings of dark stone interspersed with smaller dwellings of carved wood. Colorful fabrics adorned walls or poles, drifting like flags in the light wind. I always loved the look of Bani, but now its beauty was marred by the columns of smoke rising in the distance. I knew where we were, roughly at least. The highest district of the city, where Bani'kari's manor was located.

Denu directed us to where she had met with Tarun, and we bid her be safe as she disappeared back into the building. It was some kind of temple or school I thought, but that hardly mattered as it was empty right now. We began making our way down through the city, toward the market district. The faint sounds of combat began to reach us, spaced out in individual clashes.

Bani's districts were divided by stone walls. Nothing like the large wall that encircled the city, perhaps eight feet tall and two thick. They wouldn't stand up to seige engines of any note, but had apparently confined the fighting for now. At the gate to the district, we encountered a large squad of guardsmen.

"No passage!" They announced, barring our way with spears. "In case you haven't noticed, there's fighting in the market, we've orders not to open the gate until we receive word."

"No need," I said. "But I am looking for news. Do you know what the status of the fighting is?"

"No, we've been hearing it for awhile now, but no updates." I nodded, walking off to one side, and then leaping up the wall. Shouts of alarm followed me, as did Myta, and we dropped to the other side.

"I wonder how Denu got over?" I mused idly, taking stock of our surroundings.

"Guta could have boosted her over easily enough." Myta replied, and I nodded.

"The interior walls aren't the most secure." I noted. "Tarun must be trying to patrol them, somehow. Keeping the enemy from going over. But the building he was supposed to be in is destroyed. We'll need to just help where we can, and hope we find him."

Chapter 47

I opened my spiritual eye, searching for signs of mana use. I found them, around toward the far side of the district, near the another gate that led deeper into the city. We headed that way, not particularly working to hide our passage. Soon enough we came across a group of Pure soldiers, their white and gold attire stained with red and black.

Ten fighting men, trained soldiers instilled with the fervor of their most high god. If they were here taking the city then they were certainly veterans, either of heretic purges or demon hunts. Against Myta and I, they never stood a chance.

We flowed into motion as soon as they came into view, not using an iota of mana. We needed to conserve our strength for the real fights that lay ahead. Myta dashed to their right flank, our left, with only her body's base speed. But even without calling on her mana, she had become incredibly fast. She closed the distance before their front rank had even begun to shout their challenge, and screams of pain and surprise left their lips.

These Pure were armed with swords and shields, and my flame's blade bit into the neck of one before he had a chance to properly raise the latter. He gurgled as he staggered backward into the group, throwing them out of formation. Twice more she lashed out in the blink of an eye, killing two more men. That third man, however, got his shield up. Though her riversteel blade punched through it, the wood bound her blade, opening her up for a counter. I was still too far back to physically stop it, but my lancet severed the arm of the man attacking her, at least in spirit. His blade dropped from nerveless fingers, after it skipped ineffectually off her leather scale. Moments later he died with her blade in his chest.

It didn't take long, Myta's glaive was a whirlwind, deflecting attacks and spilling blood. My own invisible strikes slipped around her, our coordination perfect as our minds sang in harmony. It was difficult to land killing blows in the chaos of combat while using the lancet at range, so I didn't bother trying to. Instead I crippled their arms and legs, making them easy prey for my vas. The fight was over before it had even truly begun, and we moved on.

Twice more we encountered Pure forces. Squads of only five men, who tried to ambush us from the abandoned buildings. Clearly they were attempting to infiltrate in smaller groups, which implied to me that there were fewer of them within the city than we had faced in the tunnels. Good news, if we could deal with any demons and sorcerers here. As we neared our target, I could sense their aspect more clearly. It was something fiery and golden, and I steeled myself. One of the senior monks of the Pure was there.

We hurried to the location as Myta picked up on my urgency. I could feel only half the battle, the fire aspected mana washing out anything else. I felt the flare of spells, filled with killing intent. Even from here the self righteousness layered in the mana made me sick with rage. Even at my most foolish, I'd rejected that kind of blind arrogance.

More spells flared, and I had to force myself to keep a sustainable pace. But when I felt the sorcerer cut off mid-spell I instead pushed myself into the fastest sprint I could manage, even drawing on my mana now to enhance my speed.

We rushed out into a square, with some kind of fountain in the middle. Bodies were scattered around on the paving stones, many of them nothing more than charcoal lumps. The corpse of the monk lay over the rim of the fountain, with a half-dozen spears in his back. The city guardsmen must have caught him by surprise, hitting him with a multitude of blows too weak to penetrate deeply. It was an impressive feat, but the guardsmen were celebrating, clearly unaware of the consequences

I tried to throw my presence over the body, to rend the lingering anima. But the monk had been too strong, and I was too late. I screamed at the men standing over the corpse, but instead of running as I bade them they of course raised their weapons towards me. It was too late for them, the fiery presence had all withdrawn, condensed down already. I could feel the tension in the air, the storm that was waiting to break.

Reversing my actions, I pulled my presence in tight around Myta and myself. Trying to shield us as the dead sorcerer's spirit erupted, immolating the monk's corpse, and all those standing nearby. They didn't have time to scream, the very air in their lungs burning away in an instant. Those closer to the edge had at least a chance to survive, though their flammable gear was set alight, and any metal branded their skin. Those at least had time to give voice to their pain. Whether that extra time was a cruelty or a mercy was not for me to say.

In the wake of the immolation, the newborn spirit rose. It was vaguely humanoid, being formed of rods of golden light, tipped with jagged ends that resembled broken glass. Those tips were blackened, and dripped with ethereal blood. It stood perhaps eight feet tall, a skeletal monstrosity wreathed in flame. Odd looping swirls of anima draped over its main meridians, like pasta dangling from a spoon, flickering with sullen mana.

*Strike at it now,* I sent to Myta. Favoring the mental speech for its swiftness and clarity. *Your weapon will not harm it, but your sorcery will. Try to drain its mana, if you can.*.

We charged the monster in tandem, closing the distance as it stared at its own fingertips, flexing its hands as though trying to work out some puzzle. The sagging, noodle-like meridians were already beginning to tighten around the skeleton, slithering like snakes, or exposed muscles. I slashed one with my lancet, forcefully drawing out as much of its mana as I could. But a spirit, even a newborn spirit, had far greater control of its mana. Only my new mastery of fire, borrowed from Myta, allowed me to draw a bright plume from the wound.

Hissing, the spirit rounded on me, arms flailing in wild strikes. I avoided the blows easily, but I knew that the spirit would grow more coordinated each second the battle lasted. I struck again, and again, opening more wounds in its anima. Each breach to its form leaked mana at my urging, but it drained slowly, moving like cold honey.

On the opposite side of the creature, Myta dealt her own wounds. Her sorcery was advanced enough to face a spirit now, but her own fiery aspect made little impression. In frustration, she called on my skill to create her silver flames. It was a good idea, the more conceptual fires of change might make a greater impact, though I worried that would be balanced by her lower affinity.

My distracted musing cost me, as I was unprepared for the spirit's increasing speed. It lashed out at me again, catching my left bicep with its claws. The jagged edges tore my anima, allowing fiery mana into my body. Searing agony accompanied the smell of roasting meat, but I pushed it aside as I skipped backwards, leaving another wound behind.

Myta screamed in outrage, fazing the spirit not at all. I felt her mana surge, and even felt her try to draw on mine. I let her, trusting to my vas. I could already see that this battle was not in our favor. We could wear the spirit down eventually, but my mistake had cost us the time we'd need. Who would have imagined a Pure monk dying with so much mana remaining?

The spell that Myta formed was simple, but it was the most perfectly realized one that she had ever produced. Far from the complexity of a human, this spirit had only a single major node. With a second scream, Myta thrust her spear, a ray of silver fire striking that central node. It erupted in encircling bands, constricting and attempting to eat into the spirit's core.

The spirit froze, straining against her, and I had a moment of indecision. I could strike now, capitalizing on its moment of weakness, or I could bolster Myta's will, which I sensed was in conflict with our enemy.

In truth, it wasn't much of a decision. I would support my flame. I leaned into our bond, putting my will behind her. Bracing her against the spirit's rage as though we were two people standing in a river, pushing against the current. As I did I felt her intention, and it was ambitious.

She was trying, not to kill the spirit, but to subvert its essence. Transforming its aspect into her own silver fire. Spirits had no souls, no grounding other than their aspect to maintain their personality and goals. If she could change its aspect she could change its entire nature, least in theory.

In practice, while I knew that many spirits changed their aspects and identities over time, I knew of no successful attempts to impose such a change forcefully. But if anyone could do such a thing, we could.

In my mind's eye I could see our foe. This spirit had once been a human, pale skinned and tattooed, with blonde hair and green eyes. Already that sense of self was fading. He hadn't died in his sleep, unaware of the change.

Instead he had been dragged screaming into the afterlife, through bloody violence, well aware of his end. Enraged, and struggling to his last breath. As such, his human memories and seeming were tattered, blowing away in the face of our contest of wills. He, it, hunched and stalked toward us, burning with murderous intent. Sloughing off false flesh with every step.

Myta struggled to push the spirit back, to force her will upon it. With my support she pushed it to a standstill. We hung in balance, my vas and I were perfectly aligned. My weathered stubbornness was a foundation for her burning desire. But the spirit had shed its mortal frailties, it was the embodiment of self-assured wrath.

Even my age had not stripped me of uncertainty, and Myta's will still depended far too much on my approval. Facing the spirit this way, in a direct challenge of might, would likely not go our way.

I shared my thoughts with Myta, and we acted together, without hesitation. Our pressure against the spirit fell away, and it's rage burst at us, into us. Spirits burning, we pulled, sending all three of us tumbling into the abyss.