Waylon's Crossing - 33. Chapter 33: Where did Everybody Go?

Waylon's Crossing
Chapter 33: Where did Everybody Go?

“You ass!” cried Azil. Karadur caught his hand before it could connect. Wincing, he sat up. You know I’m okay, Azil, you can feel it. To his consternation, however, instead of being mollified, his pairling kicked him. Crossing his arms over his chest, he scowled. His thoughts were less than complimentary.

“Does anything hurt?” asked Jacen. “We bound your arm, but other than that…”

Karadur shrugged. Azil. Azil, calm down. I’m fine.

You scared me!

Karadur knew that tone of voice. He dragged his pairling into an embrace. “Azil, I’m fine. Where is Kynan?”

“Here!”

All heads turned as Kynan and Alan stepped closer. They were both staggering with weakness. One of Kynan’s wings dragged the ground. He accepted the arm Timolin offered, transferring his weight to the big demon as Alan sank to the ground.

“Are you hurt?” asked Jacen, hurrying forward.

“Alan is.”

“Kynan--“

“I know, Karadur,” Kynan cut him off. His arms hugged his chest as he grimaced. “Just tired.” He shoved at one uncooperative wing as he slid down to sit next to his mentor. “These things are so damned annoying!” The werewolf whimpered under Jacen’s fingers and Kynan winced, rubbing his shoulder.

“Karadur, I have to tell you something.”

“You are not harmed?” asked Azil, slightly muffled in Karadur’s neck.

“No, I -- Daylight! Azil, are you okay?” He reached out to gently trace a spine of Azil’s tightly drawn wings. “You’re bleeding. Your leg…”

The smaller demon was trembling now, holding on so tightly that Karadur had to struggle to keep his discomfort from showing. “Kynan,” he said firmly, regaining his prince’s attention. “Our messenger was intercepted and it’s a good bet that Xeran knows where we are.”

Kynan nodded unhappily and glanced over to Alan. They alone of the group were free of soot and ash. “Harpies attacked Alan and me, but they weren’t trying to kill us. Do you think that he knows … about this?” He brushed feathers off his shoulders.

“We should assume he does.” Together they looked over to where the human sat with his legs crossed and chin in hands, staring at the flames. Aside from the warlock, the only weapon they had was Timolin’s sword.

Waiting was always the hardest part for Kynan, Karadur thought, seeing the unease in his protégé’s face. Freeing an arm from Azil, Karadur patted him on the knee. “We will stop him, my prince.”

“We can get swords from Alan’s father,” said Kynan abruptly, blinking. “Can he still get us there?” He pointed with his chin to where Duncan sat slightly apart from everyone.

“Hold still!” snapped Jacen.

They looked over as Alan cried, “I’m not the one …!” He squeaked and threw himself to the ground.

“Kynan! Wait.” Karadur made a grab for him, but missed. He could only watch as Kynan snatched up his pairling and Jacen fell over, shaking.

The unicorn screamed a high-pitched, keening sound that had everyone ducking their heads or covering their ears. Inhabitants of Asphodel Fields came at a run only to stop, horrified, as the unicorn’s body contorted into impossible shapes. His hands clawed at the ground. The ring on one finger glowed red with a malevolent, fuchsia center.

On and on the screams stretched. Karadur tore his eyes away and found Kynan. The halfling had curled around himself practically kissing his knees. His hands gripped the sides of his head as he rocked back and forth sobbing. Tears likewise marked the werewolf’s face.

The heat of the fire cast its orange glow on the eerie gathering, setting some faces in shadow and others into the spotlight. One of those faces still moved.

Duncan shoved his way through the crowd. His spectacles hung crooked on his face, his hair in disarray and his clothes scorched. Sweat marked trails through the soot on his face. He only had one shoe. Silence hung on the air and even the fire seemed hushed as Duncan reached Jacen’s side.

Azil’s warning spiked in Karadur’s mind, but they were too far away. No one else tried.

Duncan seized Jacen’s surcoat, shouting, “Benigno numine, caelitus mihi vires. Dis ducibus, dirige nos Domine, dirige nos Domine, dirige nos Domine!”

Dawn broke for the first time ever in the Borderlands. Those standing within fifty feet of Mage Duncan never saw it.

*              *              *

Kynan fetched up against a tree, panting as the breath was knocked from his lungs. Ears ringing, he dizzily picked himself up. For the first minute of infinity, he didn’t know where he was. He could feel the heat of a massive fire, disconcerting with the memories of the fire in Asphodel Fields. Shouting and screaming echoed in every direction he looked, trying to gather his bearings. Somewhere in the distance, glass shattered. He gasped as nearby shapes resolved into running people, trampling over his tumbled wings. He had to hug the tree in order to stand. Smoke saturated everything, his call lost in all the confusion. He couldn’t even hear himself shout.

The clouds parted for a moment, allowing the moon to shine down. Kynan shaded his eyes, but he recognized where he was at last: the park in Waylon’s Crossing. Water splashed as people ran along the banks of the small lake. As his eyes adjusted, Kynan realized that the cathedral was burning.

It was too much. Kynan clung to the tree as his mind went blank. He didn’t want this! He’d wished for something, but this wasn’t it. It couldn’t be! He was no soldier or warrior; he couldn’t do this! The simple life he’d experienced in Azil and Karadur’s home flickered into his mind. They’d rescued him, comforted him, taught him, loved him. He couldn’t be this other person they said he was now. Sure, he’d known who his mother was, but he didn’t want that life, that wasn’t him! Now the incubus thing -- he couldn’t take any more!

Kynan? Kynan, you’re alive! Over here!

Alan’s buoyant joy chased the horror away and Kynan found himself waving to the figure standing on the nearby park bench. Kynan darted into the shadowy throng to scoop his pairling into his arms and hug him.

“Where are we? What’s happened? We’re home, aren’t we? Wow! What did the magister do? How’d we get here? What do you think is going on? Is something -- Oh! Kynan, the city’s burning! We’ve got to do something! Come on!”

He darted away before Kynan thought to stop him and was lost in the crowd almost instantly. People jostled him from every angle as he dived in after his impulsive pairling. Panic hit him causing sweat to break out on his shoulders and chest. He couldn’t breathe in the stifling air, turning in circles, shoved first one way and then another until one final shove sent him careening into something solid enough to absorb the impact. Sliding to the ground, Kynan huddled behind his wings for a shield.

He was breathing, but he couldn’t catch his breath. Run, run, run! screamed his thoughts, but he couldn’t move. Spots appeared in his vision, darker than the hazy night.

“Kynan.”

He screamed at the heavy hand on his wing, floundering in his efforts to flee.

“Kynan, look at me.”

Two big hands loomed out of nothing to cup his jaw, filling his vision with two dark pupils surrounded by yellow.

“Kynan, concentrate. I know you can do this. Think of someplace safe. You’re there alone. No one else. You are you and only you. You are there, Kynan. Think of that place.”

The yellow, demon eyes were all he could see. They were the same as his, only yellow instead of blue. He knew those eyes. “Karadur.”

“That’s it, my -- Yes, Kynan. Find yourself. Think. Focus, damn you!”

If this was the dreamscape, he knew what to do. Shadowy people crossed his dreamscape but they did not touch him, because they were not really there. Like a moving painting, Kynan must approach and touch upon the world of those other minds. He could trace a person’s presence straight to their dreams, but they could not touch him. They could not touch him!

“Karadur.” Kynan smiled and pulled back, putting a hand to his aching head. The panic still beat there but he held it off; it did not belong to him. He blinked.

“The city’s under attack. They’ve burned the cathedral,” said Karadur. He hauled Kynan to his feet and shoved sword and sword belt into his hands. “Here, it’s not perfect, but it’s the best I could find. Xeran’s sent mercenaries to ransack the city. They’re keeping the Watch busy. We have to find him.”

“I -- wait, Karadur.” Kynan set his feet against the hand hauling him along. “Karadur, I can’t think. Wait, stop! Karadur, I have to find Alan. He was just here; we got separated!”

The big demon shook his head sadly. “That blasted warlock set us in the middle of all this. Who knows where the others are, but we can’t wait.”

Kynan caught his lip in his teeth as the outwardly stoic demon hit him with what was really going on in his head. His terror beat at the boundaries of Kynan’s mental shield. Kynan gripped Karadur’s forearm. “First we find our pairlings, Karadur.”

“If we don’t find Xeran, we won’t have anyone left to find!”

Calm. There was no finesse as Kynan sought that spot in his head that was Karadur and sent soothing thoughts there. He blinked, eyes crossing as the demon smacked his forehead.

“Stop that.” Amusement curdled beside all that fear but Karadur was smiling.

Kynan grinned. “Sorry. It’s distracting.”

“Focus.”

“Sir, yes, sir.”

Karadur sighed, rolling his eyes. “My Prince, we really must find your uncle. Can’t you feel it? Dawn is imminent.”

Kynan nodded seriously. Court would be in session now, getting ready for the ceremonies that would welcome the first dawn in the World of Night in millennia.

“You’re right. Where do we go?” The original plan had them back in the sewers, but that was when they had the vampire, Bryce, as a guide. They’d thought to have enough time to push Xeran back into his lair.

“We go to wherever these people are fleeing from,” said Karadur.

Kynan nodded. They looked at each other, thinking the same thing: if they could get above the trees and rooftops, they had a better chance of finding the center of the rioting, but by doing so, they would risk being spotted. There was that, and Kynan had yet to fly.

“It helps, the first time, if you run.”

“Right.” He could barely walk without falling.

Karadur caught his shoulder. “Think about what you want to do, and only that. Stay focused.” He pointed to a section of the park next to the wall which seemed to be free of people. He took a couple of long strides and leaped, wings beating down in two wind churning strokes, to land upon the top of the wall. He looked down, a black gargoyle in the night.

Kynan took a deep breath, fixed his posture, and started running. Wind rushed through his hair, catching on his feathers. The corner approached fast. Shit, shit, shit … shitshitshitshitshitshit! Too close, he was too close! Kynan jumped and his wings came down, hurling him up and over. He bit back a yelp as a foot caught on the brick wall enclosing the park. His wings hurled him up and suddenly Karadur was there. Kynan grinned.

To fly was easier than walking, Kynan found as he skimmed the trees at Karadur’s heels. He knew now why most demons used a shoulder belt for their swords. Having the scabbard hanging free and swinging around was annoying as hell.

They could see the damage more clearly as they circled the park gaining altitude. The cathedral and most of the surrounding buildings were old and built with stone, but their roofs and much of the insides were wood. This burned brightly, sending waves of heat billowing forth over the city. There were other fires burning: homes, businesses, the meeting hall, and market stalls. There were wagons ablaze as well, blocking the main roads. And everywhere they looked were people. Some stood defiantly defending their homes or businesses. Some worked together to put out fires or help others, but many more actively looted or ran scared for a way out -- any way out -- of the city.

From the air, the city looked disjointed, with abrupt changes where the Borderlands imposed their own will upon the city. Crossings also dotted the air, making the currents unpredictable and Kynan agreed with the theory that the crossings were behind the city’s irregular weather patterns.

But try as he might, Kynan couldn’t see any center point or focus for the attacks. There were no signs of an army, and certainly nothing like what Bryce had described seeing in the tunnels. There were no fancy uniforms or demon-eye symbols. In fact, from what Kynan could tell, there weren’t enough watchmen on the streets. If they weren’t preventing looting or chasing mercenaries, then where were they?

Karadur gestured ‘down’ and Kynan followed. As they banked to turn, the fire at the cathedral flashed. They shielded their eyes but still blinked away afterimages and coughed on the oily smoke billowing from deep within. Kynan stumbled, scraping hands and knees as he fell upon landing. Karadur, landing lightly beside him, hauled him back to his feet. Together they stood across the street from the cathedral. They could go no further due to the faith steeped into each brick and stone.

“Damn it, where is Arawn?” muttered Karadur.

Kynan massaged his aching chest muscles, arching his back against the stiffness there. He staggered into a trot as Karadur said, “This way,” and started down the street. More black smoke lifted from the cathedral into the lightening sky.

Bryce had drawn a rough sketch of the city during their discussions and had marked several access points to the sewers. The closest could only be reached by swimming the lake, so they hurried to the next one only to find it guarded by a handful of mismatched mercenaries and one forbidding looking minotaur. The minotaur wore a baldric with the altered symbol Bryce had described: a black demon eye.

Karadur pointed to the minotaur and Kynan nodded grimly. Xeran was here; that minotaur must be in charge of this group. They were alert, but waiting as two of the mercenaries bickered over a map spread out on the cobbled street.

Kynan raised an eyebrow at Karadur, silently asking how he wanted to proceed. There were eight of the mercenaries, plus the minotaur, and only two of them. They’d faced worse odds together before, but it was a near thing, and Kynan wasn’t at his best. His head throbbed, his back and shoulders hurt, he was just plain tired!

Tapping his arm, Karadur pointed up, to the intact buildings on either side. Kynan grimaced but nodded to say he understood. They split up, circling around the buildings so they wouldn’t be spotted. Scaling the side of the building seemed the better choice than trying to find roof access from inside. Kynan started to run, letting his wings unfurl behind him until he leaped for the air.

He crashed, tripping over trash in the road and adding a few more scrapes and bruises to his collection. He picked himself up and tried again, but couldn’t quite get the clearance he needed to rise above the target building. Arrows and crossbow bolts clanged against the stone, spraying him with splinters as he dragged himself over the lip onto the roof. He picked a spot overlooking the mercenaries where his shadow wouldn’t be seen. On Karadur’s signal, he jumped into the alley.

The ground rushed up at him and only the panicky use of his wings saved Kynan from a broken leg or two. He hit hard and rolled, the action stalling on the stupid, feathery wings. He cursed as he heard booted feet rushing toward him and fumbled for his sword. A foot came down on his shoulder, pinning him with his cheek against the road, wings twisted and twitching where they’d become entangled.

“Well, well, well.” The minotaur’s voice was gravelly and rough, like stone dragging over stone. “What do we have here?”

Curiosity amidst boredom and irritation impinged on Kynan’s mind. He groaned as the mercenaries’ impatience and arrogance reached him.

“What the hell is it?” asked one.

“What’s it doing here is a better question,” growled the minotaur. The blade of his pike knocked chips into the road by Kynan’s face. “Don’t you think?”

Kynan went completely still. The cobbles were cold, their chill seeping into his body and he welcomed it. Fear, his old friend, came readily to hand once more, hitting the mercenaries as hard as he could.

Somebody screamed; there was a collective gasp as the mercenaries fell back. Even the minotaur retreated. Kynan could hear the beast breathing as he shook his shaggy head and blew out through his nostrils. Then came more screaming and the clash of swords, flesh hitting flesh, and flesh hitting stone. Kynan could taste blood on his tongue and stayed put. His struggle was internal once more, fighting to reclaim his independence from all the emotions crashing over him, and fighting the pain in his head. Something burning hit the ground nearby. He flinched and started again.

Gradually, the pounding in his ears receded and the throbbing of his head dimmed to only one dagger under his right cheekbone. He pushed himself to hands and knees on arms that threatened to dump him back on his face.

“My Prince, are you okay?”

He nodded, and then promptly vomited.

“Lovely,” said another voice.

Bryce, Kynan thought. He spat and turned his head to glare at the vampire. “Fuck you.”

Karadur snorted and clapped Kynan on the shoulder. “Good, you’re fine. Let’s go.”

“No,” said Bryce. “That’s what I came to tell you. You guys took your damned time, that’s for sure.”

Kynan hung his head, pulling in deep breaths. “Fuck, quit dancing around and tell us!” he groaned. He needed to get Bryce and his bad news far away as soon as possible.

He could feel the glare boring into his back, but Kynan shrugged it off; he’d had worse.

“It’s Azil,” said the vampire. “He’s been taken. Timolin’s dead.”

“Oh.” Kynan closed his mouth on more. Timolin and Bryce had been friends, apparently. Bryce’s guilt ate at him and Kynan retched a second time.

“What happened?” demanded Karadur.

“I don’t know!” The vampire whirled and punched the wall, grunting on impact. He stood there, speaking quietly. “I just … I found him and he was trying to get here, to warn you. It was Garsteaode, he said.”

Kynan looked up and saw Karadur’s hands turn into fists at his sides. They glowed from the effort he made to hold back the fire and swallow the fear and anger boiling inside. That earlier fear was back, Kynan realized. His headache expanded to the whole right half of his skull.

“You haven’t been able to feel him?” he asked.

“No.” Karadur’s lips were so thin where he’d pressed them together that Kynan saw the muscles in his cheek spasm where he ground his teeth together. His face was a mask and ordinarily Kynan would have thought he didn’t care, but he could sense more now, and Karadur was barely holding himself together.

Garsteaode was one of the Queen’s Hunters. “Why would she?” Kynan began, but cut himself off. Of course, it was almost the day of the solstice and the Queen had no news of Karadur or Kynan. Of course other Hunters had been dispatched to look for them!

Alan. Kynan thoughts immediately turned to his pairling. Alan hadn’t been a part of their war plans and he wouldn’t know to meet up. Where was he?

“I … can’t hear Alan, either.” He sat back on his heels, rolling his shoulders against the pull of his wings. There was a light buzz of activity, however. “But, I think he’s okay.”

“My Prince, I …”

Kynan accepted Karadur’s assistance to stand. “It’s okay. I’ll go back with you.” He hadn’t made a pact with an incubus and succubus just to let Azil and Karadur die now.

“What about the city?” Bryce glared at them.

“Not my problem, Vampire,” snarled Karadur.

“You unbelievable bastard!”

“You care so much, then you save it!”

Kynan stepped between them. “Hey! Karadur, we don’t have time for this!”

“You can’t leave! Look around you! Will you see both our worlds destroyed? I fucking saved your life!”

The yank on his arm was too sudden to counterbalance and Kynan fell with a grunt and swish of feathers on stone. Karadur’s roar echoed in the alley and Kynan lifted his head in time to see Karadur grab the vampire by the throat and throw him against the wall. The dull, wet smack of impact lasted longer than Bryce’s slow slide to the ground.

Karadur seized him by the arm, dragging Kynan to his feet. Then they were running and running and flying. Waylon’s Crossing faded away behind them.