She relaxed and smiled, spreading her hands in a gesture of helplessness. “I am outnumbered, gentlemen. Very well, Ho’Demi, I will use your men and thank you for them. Now.” Her eyes dropped to the rough map Ho’Demi had drawn and her tone turned brisk. “This is what we shall do.”
Azhure and Axis jogged down the steeply sloping shaft of the eastern-most mine until they reached the opening of the fourth tunnel that branched off to their left.
“This must be it,” Axis said quietly, and felt in the darkness for Azhure’s hand. They carried no light with them and Axis did not yet make use of the Star Dance to construct a ball of light as he had in Hsingard. Not wanting to give the Skraelings warning, both relied exclusively on their innate powers to negotiate the shaft; neither had stumbled once during the descent.
At Azhure’s side Sicarius whined softly and she reached down and touched his head briefly. The hound was quivering with excitement but she kept him and the other two Alaunt with him back for the moment. “Axis?”
“Wait,” he whispered. Ho’Demi? Are you ready? Yes, StarMan. All is ready.
Axis smiled and Azhure felt it. “Then let us hunt,” she cried, her voice ringing through the tunnel before her. “Hunt!”
She gestured with her hand and the three Alaunt seethed forward, the soft sounds of their running disappearing within instants. Music whispered through the air and the ball of light appeared in Axis’ hands.
Azhure blinked in the sudden radiance. “Axis …” “I know, Azhure, I know. This light and the ward of protection. That is all.” Azhure was worried that in the heat of the hunt Axis might try to use the power of the Star Dance to try to kill the Skraelings, and she frowned, wondering if she should warn him yet again.
“I knotvl” he said sharply, and she smiled. “I’m sorry, Axis. Let’s go,” and she turned and strode into the tunnel, lifting an arrow from the quiver on her back to fit to the Wolven as she went.
Ho’Demi and his men had managed to completely block the entrance of the extreme western shaft with rubble and rocks so that no Skraelings could escape that way. And now, if all was going according to plan, Ho’Demi would have divided his force into three groups that each advanced down one of the three central shafts, brands blazing and four Alaunt hunting before them.
The plan was to drive all Skraelings towards a natural cavern at the foot of the shaft to the immediate west of the one Azhure and Axis had descended; there, Azhure had smiled at Ho’Demi, we can all have our fill of death. And so it was.
The noise, light and hounds accompanying the bands of men advancing down the three central shafts terrified the Skraelings so much that they fled in a whispering mob, unsure about what directions to take, colliding and scrabbling among themselves until many died from the teeth and claws of their neighbours and parents before their enemies had even reached them. Among them leapt the twelve hounds who ran before the men, clamouring and snarling, frightening the Skraelings into a stampede east, filling the cavern and then racing along the tunnel towards the final shaft… towards Azhure.
The mob met Sicarius and his two companions first. The hounds were lying in wait for them, bellies pressed to the floor-of the tunnel, and as the Skraelings rushed over the top of them the hounds chopped and snapped, and with each bite a hatchling died, its back broken or its head disengaged from its neck.
None of the adults cared. They seethed forward, desperate to escape from hounds and light and noise until…until… the leading pack of Skraelings lurched to a halt, shrieking, their hands raised uselessly to their faces, trying unsuccessfully to back up against the mob behind them.
Along the tunnel flew an arrow. The Skraelings could not yet see it, but they could feel it. It was straight and true and blue-fletched, it glowed and sparked with death – and it was coming straight for them.
And in an instant they could see it, too. It flew around the final bend in the tunnel, keeping to the very centre of the passage, its metal head glowing as bright as a sun, its blue feathers screaming as they slid through the air.
The three Alaunt snapping at the bellies and feet of the pack flattened themselves along the tunnel floor.
The arrow exploded the instant it hit the first line of Skraelings, now turned to face their companions in a futile effort to flee back the way they had come. A flame, at first gold, then orange, then shading into a deep indigo, flared through the ranks of the Skraelings, eating its way back through the tunnel as far as the cavern.
Every Skraeling caught in that tunnel turned to grey ash, and, as the ash drifted to the floor it turned violet, and by the time it settled on the floor it had been changed into Moonwild-flowers, and the floor was carpeted in beauty.
Now the tunnel itself was lit with a gentle blue radiance.
Azhure laughed as she strode through the flowers, leaning down and snatching up the arrow as she went. Before her the hounds rose, flowers cascading to either side, and bounded forward to continue the hunt. Behind her Axis walked, extinguishing his ball of flame, an expression of utter wonder mixing with quiet pride on his face.
Then he saw Azhure stumble slightly, and he hurried to catch up.
The Skraelings were trapped in the cavern, screaming and writhing, arrows raining down on them from behind and above and before. The light and the hounds were bad enough, but the woman with the arrows was murderous. And so they died, weeping and fretting and screeching, and soon even the men lowered their bows in awe as they stood and stared at the Enchantress across the cavern, watching as she loosed a flood of arrows into the Skraeling mass, watching as with each Skraeling who fell a flower drifted from unseen heights above them into the massacre below until the floor of the cavern was lost in blood and floating flowers and the disintegrating flesh of the Skraelings.
As the last flower fell Axis tightened his arm about Azhure’s waist. The Wolven drooped in her hands, and she leaned her weight back against him.
“You’ve done too much,” he said, feeling her muscles tremble, feeling her gasp for air, knowing that the amount of power she had expended threatened her beyond exhaustion.
“I’ll be all right after I’ve rested,” she murmured, but she did not resist when he swung her into his arms.
“StarMan?” Ho’Demi called across the cavern, still dazed by what he had witnessed. “Is she all right?”
“She needs rest, Ho’Demi. Take your men up the shafts and we will rejoin you as soon as we can.” He indicated the violet and red mess between them. “None can cross this. We will all have to use the shafts we came down.”
As the Ravensbund Chief turned to go Axis called him. My friend? My thanks.
Ho’Demi looked over his shoulder and regarded them silently. Take care of her, StarMan.
Sicarius and the other two hounds at his heels, Axis strode back along the tunnel. Now the excitement of the hunt was over he was also feeling the drain of exhaustion, and he thought it would take him two, perhaps three, hours to climb the shaft.
Then he stopped in his tracks, suddenly wary. Ahead of him the tunnel curved . . . but in this all-consuming blackness he should not have been able to see that. Feel it, yes, but not see it.
Faint light outlined the walls and their ancient chisel marks, and Axis lowered Azhure slowly to her feet. Who was there? What?
My love? ‘You will have to stand by yourself awhile. There is…
The thought was cut off mid-sentence as Sicarius pushed past their legs, the other two hounds an instant behind him, and loped down the tunnel, disappearing around the bend.
“Axis?” Azhure struggled to focus through her fatigue.
Axis opened his mouth, then froze. Footsteps shuffled through the rock dust and a shadow loomed on the rock wall. Axis fumbled at his hip then remembered he had left his sword above ground; he glanced at the Wolven but discarded the thought before it had even formed. Even if he had been able to draw the bow he would not have been able even to hit a comatose cow with an arrow at five paces. Of all weapons, Axis had never mastered the bow.
A bent and ragged figure shuffled around the bend. It was a man, elderly, and clad in the dirty, stained rags of a miner.
“Good sir,” he called, “good sir? Will you sit with us a while? We have sweet water and currant cakes, and your lady wife needs sustenance.”