42
She had shuffled forward, sight blurred by her tears, and had laid her hand upon her dog's head. All the sounds of the city, the smells, everything had fallen away. Only she and Barsa remained. Standing, with effort, she lifted him from the spike of ice, cringing at the sound of the ice scraping against Barsa's insides, retching as she heard the final slurp as she removed him from the shard. She laid him upon the ground and knelt beside him, resting her head upon his neck.
Nothing mattered to her anymore. She didn't even feel hatred towards Hatyara. Only emptiness filled her now. Barsa, the last of her sled dogs, the best of them, was gone. She had nothing left. Not a single thing in her life that could ever give her meaning. Her home had become devoured by flame, her whale hook lost within an ancient, decayed city and now Barsa, ripped from her.
"Dear Patrons!" A voice calling through a fog could not even force Únik to raise her head. "Is she ...? Is she alive?"
Alive or dead, it did not matter. Her fingers curled into Barsa's fur and she felt nothing. No warmth. No heartbeat. Even the fur, itself, felt dry and lifeless. As lifeless as she felt. When hands touched her, she shrugged them away. Insistent, the hands tried to lift her from the ground and she swatted at them, not even angry that they tried to take her away from Barsa.
"Turug is dead. Look at this! So many people." Another voice. Familiar, like the first, but unimportant. "I've never seen anything like this. I can't heal them all."
This time, the hands didn't try to pull Únik away. They pressed upon her back and her arm and Únik felt a warm body close to hers. A head laid upon Únik's and she felt a wetness fall upon her head. Who else could cry so for a dog? Only Únik. Only she could cry for Barsa. The tears of the other were for her.
"Únik?" A whisper in her ear. A kiss upon her hair. Fingers smoothing that hair down, squeezing her arm. "You have to let him go."
She couldn't let him go. Never. He was her dog. A good dog. She had allowed him too much freedom, too much happy freedom that a working dog should not have had. Had she continued to treat him like a sled dog, none of this would have happened. None of it. Barsa would have followed his orders. If only she had maintained discipline.
"I hear sounds of battle." The second voice, from a distance. "Looks like Vraniik has finally listened to you."
"Únik. Get up." The head of the first voice raised from Únik's, still smoothing her hair. "Damn it, Únik! I love you, but I swear, by all the Patrons, if you don't get up I'm going to drag you to your feet."
Love.
Únik had known love. Once. The love of a fresh-faced wife, turned sour by drink and violence. The love of a mother for her child, torn from her far too soon. The love for her pet, not her working dog, her pet! Now gone, as everyone and everything else she had loved had gone. She had nothing. Nothing, except, perhaps, a new love.
Lifting her head, she saw Ylthara kneeling beside her. The Ice-Kin held out her hand and Únik allowed her fingers to leave Barsa's fur, reaching up to clasp the offered hand. Together, they stood and Únik fell into Ylthara's arms, the sobs she had thought dried, erupting from her shaking body once more. She buried her face into Ylthara's shoulder.
"It was meant for me. Hatyara. She ... she was going to kill me and she didn't care." She could not stop the words from flooding out, holding Ylthara so tight. "And he ... that stupid bloody dog. He ..."
"I know." Ylthara held Únik as tight as Únik held her, allowing her to grieve.
"Ylthara. It sounds like it's getting worse up there." Únik recognised the other voice, now. Bohyiris, trying his best not to sound to urgent, for Únik's sake. "I'm sorry, but we have to go if we want to even try to stop her."
Ylthara pulled away from Únik, cupping Únik's cheek as she did so. She looked almost as hurt as Únik felt. Some of that for Barsa, though she had never taken to the dog as Hatyara had appeared to. Most of her concern and sadness was for Únik, and Únik felt grateful for the Ice-Kin's presence. Wiping her face with the sleeve of her jacket, Únik nodded to Ylthara.
"Alright." Ylthara only had eyes for Únik, lowering her hand to hold Únik's. "Rally the remaining Hagragng troops. We must push forward in a united effort, for the sake of both our nations. Assign one Hagragng and one Ūtharan to take Turug back to his people and two Ūtharan to take Barsa back to the compound. They will treat him gently or they will suffer, understand?"
"Yes, Ylthara. Understood." Bohyiris passed by and laid his good hand upon Únik's shoulder, squeezing, before moving away.
"What do we do now?" Crouching, Únik laid her hand upon Barsa's head one last time and picked up her black-shafted spear, dropped beside her faithful hound.
Ylthara looked up towards the keep and saw clouds of arrows flying downwards. Únik saw those arrows, too, and could not believe how much power Hatyara must have to survive that onslaught. A flash of light occurred and a ball of fire rained down towards the foot of the keep, only for a dome of ice to form in the air, shattering as the magical flame hit, sending melted ice and flickers of diminishing flame falling like shooting stars to the ground.
"We stop her." Ylthara's features hardened and, once again, she squeezed Únik's fingers before releasing the hand. "If I have to kill her to do it, I will."
"She said nothing can stop her. Seeing that, up there? I think she's right." Another flash of magical fire became stopped by another dome of ice and Únik shivered at the immensity of such power.
"Anyone can be stopped. You just need the right weapon." Turning, Ylthara gave Únik a tight smile. "They stopped Rürazar, the Lord of Shadows, didn't they?"
"I don't know who that is." She saw the strange raise of the eyebrow upon Ylthara, as though everyone should know that name.
"You'll have to read about it." Drawing her ice-like sword, Ylthara turned towards the nearest street leading east, towards the keep. "Come on, before someone else gets all the luck, stops her and steals all the honours from us."
Únik took one last look at Barsa as two Ūtharans began to wrap him in a sheet of cloth they had found from somewhere. They took great care with him and Únik appreciated that. Bohyiris, supervising the caregiving, saw her look and gave her one of his soft, kind smiles. With his scars repaired, even a little, Únik could see that kindness better than ever.
As much as it wrenched at her heart, she turned away from Barsa, hefting her spear and preparing to run after Ylthara. Another look upwards to the keep saw fewer arrows flying. Straining her eyes, she could see a single arrow fly in the other direction, accompanied by a spear of ice, almost invisible against the cloudless sky. Hatyara and Shihiri were not only defending.
Shihiri had the skill to remove one defending archer after another. Hatyara had the power to keep Shihiri from injury. Together, two people were proving greater invaders than any army that had tried to take Star Harbour in the past. Only two people and the city stood on the verge of defeat.
She couldn't think about that. Instead, she could only follow Ylthara and hope that they could reach the keep before Hatyara could break through the defences. She knew Ylthara would not stop, even then. Her own Ice-Bound promise would remain in place until she captured or killed Hatyara. As Hatyara's would remain in place until she killed King Vraniik.
Racing through streets where the crowds of people had thinned out, many fearing the sounds of battle from above, Únik wondered if Ylthara could do it. Whether she could, in fact kill her sister. Such an act would scar the Ice-Kin for life. Únik knew full well the emotional consequences of killing someone you once loved.
It would remain with Ylthara until her dying day, as the memory of killing her husband would never leave Únik's memory. That kind of death left a scar and Únik would not wish that upon anybody. Least of all the woman she loved.
-+-
They reached the gates of the keep far too late. Arrows littered the bridge that approached the walls, crossing a deep crevasse that held the keep separate from the rest of the city. Melting ice also covered the stones of the bridge and several bodies, fallen from the battlements above.
Stepping through the bodies, Únik and Ylthara saw the portcullis and the gates, broken and bent, hanging at odd angles. It seemed Hatyara had battered them both with a relentless stream of icy missiles. Once again Únik marvelled at the power that Hatyara had hidden, not only from her, but from Ylthara, too.
Picking her way forward, Ylthara had a look upon her face that spoke volumes. Even though her father had talked of Hatyara's Ice Mage abilities, in his dying delirium, she had no idea that her sister could call forth such destructive power. She seemed both awed and horrified at the same time and Únik shared those feelings.
Within the confines of the keep, they could hear further sounds of battle and, behind them, Únik heard the hushed whispers and shocked intakes of breath from those Hagragng and Ūtharan troops that had managed to keep pace with Ylthara and herself. It seemed no-one had seen the like of this assault before.
"We keep going!" Using her ice-like sword, Ylthara swept it forward, pointing in two different directions. "Work in pairs. One Hagragng, one Ūtharan. For the good of our nations, we must stay united! Search everywhere, for Hatyara and for survivors, but do not engage my sister alone. She's ... she's too strong."
Ylthara did not show her feelings, not in any way that the soldiers could tell, but Únik could see it. The strain and horror at witnessing what her sister had shown herself capable of. Únik, too, felt horrified. She had travelled with Hatyara and Shihiri long enough to think she had come to know them. She never thought either of them capable of this.
Every body they passed showed signs of damage from bolts of ice, or pierced by arrows that no longer remained in their bodies. Shihiri's magical bow and quiver would never run out of arrows. A legacy of killing a Patron and Únik wondered if her having to witness the deaths that bow caused was some kind of punishment for taking Frianchenzer's life. If 'life' could describe the existence of those unknowable beings, the Patrons.
"Has Hatyara ever been here before? Does she know where Vraniik could be?" With caution, Únik followed Ylthara as the Ice Kin edged forward into the bailey of the keep.
"Yes. She knows exactly where the King is and so do I." Every so often, Ylthara would stop and check the bodies around them for signs of life. Some yet lived and she indicated to the remaining soldiers, in silence, to take the injured to safety.
"Then why separate the soldiers? Sending them searching for her?" Up ahead, Únik could see another door, set into the main tower of the keep, twisted and shattered. "We need every soldier we can get against this."
Waving a vague hand around, taking in the carnage, Únik felt surprised Ylthara had not shown better strategy. She had expected more precision from the Ice Kin. This separation of their forces seemed, even to her, foolhardy. She didn't have the training or knowledge of Ylthara, but to her mind, they needed more than her, Ylthara and a couple of archers.
"I won't have more deaths on my hands than I have to." She turned and scowled, but the scowl wasn't aimed at Únik, it was, instead, aimed at herself. "I've already sent Turug to his death. And Barsa. I won't lose any more."
Únik wanted to tell Ylthara that Turug's death, Barsa's death, too, was not her fault. The fault fell firmly at Únik's feet. She was the one that had raced through the streets after Hatyara, without any kind of strategy, despite knowing how deadly Shihiri was with a bow. She had treated Barsa like a pet, to the point that he had started to ignore her commands. She wanted to tell Ylthara, but the Ice-Kin had already moved on, into the tower.
No sooner had they entered the grand hall of the keep, than an arrow whistled past, flying between them to hit a wall, pinging away and then disappearing, back to Shihiri's quiver. That was a warning shot from the Fae, for Únik's benefit more than for any other reason. Both Ylthara and Únik dived behind cover. Ylthara flicked her head around and whipped it back as another arrow screamed past.
"She's just standing there. Surely she can't expect to hold everyone back if we attacked?" Ylthara held up her hand urging the few remaining soldiers at their side to hold their positions.
"She can. Her bow and quiver are magic! She'll never run out of arrows and she's good enough to kill two or more people and still have time to run for cover." Únik copied Ylthara's movement, whipping her head out of cover to see what lay ahead.
Shihiri did, indeed, stand in the middle of the grand hall, arrow nocked and with an almost carefree attitude. Seeing Únik's head, she did not fire and that allowed Únik to take a longer look than Ylthara. Ideas began to turn within Únik's mind as she saw tables and benches throughout the room.
"We have no choice. I'll act as a decoy and our archers can shoot her." Using hand signals, Ylthara began to tell the archers her plan.
"No! I'm telling you, she's too good!" Biting her lip, Únik readied herself to drag Ylthara back into cover if she didn't listen. "You need to use your magic."
"My magic isn't strong enough. It would be more of a nuisance than an attack." Ylthara's perfect ice-blue skin upon her forehead wrinkled and Únik felt ashamed that she found it attractive under the circumstances.
"I know, but listen. You said you can make big, but weak storms, or small, but strong storms?" She waited for Ylthara to nod her head. "Either is fine, switch between both, if you can. Your storms won't beat her, but they could blind her for a short time. Enough time for me to reach her. Be a nuisance!"
Ylthara almost seemed ready to argue with her, but Únik tried her best to show how determined she felt. It seemed to take forever for her to run the idea through her mind and then she nodded, closing her eyes and taking several deep breaths. After the last breath, Ylthara held out her hand, pointing it into the grand hall while trying her best to remain hidden.
The effect was immediate. Within the hall a wind began to whip up, sending the lighter objects tumbling from the tables, ruffling tapestries and pennants and snuffing out the candles that lit the darker corners of the room. Little flashes of lightning began to strike, not life threatening, but enough to sting if hit by them.
"I won't be able to keep this up for long." Strain already began to show on Ylthara's face. "I told you, I'm not strong enough."
"Yes, you are!" Únik looked into the hall once again and saw Shihiri squinting her eyes as dust and dirt and the light objects danced around her, her bow still held at the ready. "Now, while she's distracted. Make it small. Make it as strong as you can and aim it at her hands."
Sweat broke out upon Ylthara's brow as she concentrated. Slowly, she began to close her fingers into a fist and then moved out beyond her cover. The storm within the grand hall compressed and became more violent, the smaller it became. Winds becoming miniature hurricanes, lightning leaving scorch marks wherever it hit.
As soon as Únik saw the storm begin to surround Shihiri's hands, she tore out from behind her cover and raced towards the Fae. Shihiri, however was as fast as Únik remembered. Even as the tiny storm ripped the arrow from her fingers, Shihiri's hand darted to her quiver, clutching at the next arrow even as the first reappeared in the quiver.
The arrow became nocked and Únik doubted she would reach Shihiri in time. Her feet pounded against the stone flags of the great hall's floor as she raced forward, spinning her spear around as she ran. Shihiri had already almost drawn the bow back, almost raised it towards Únik.
The butt of Únik's spear clattered against Shihiri's chin, causing her to release the arrow. It flew past Únik's face, digging a deep scratch into her cheek, the fletchings stinging as they passed. Shihiri span away, her hand moving to her quiver upon instinct, but Únik gave her no time to draw an arrow. Another strike to Shihiri's temple knocked her cold and the Fae collapsed over a table, the bow falling from her hands.
Within seconds, Ylthara had caught up with her, her ice sword pointing towards Shihiri's throat, but Únik placed her hand upon Ylthara's, lowering the sword even as they both struggled to catch their breaths.
"Please. Don't kill her." Kicking Shihiri's bow further away, Únik moved to the Fae, dropping the spear and picking up Shihiri's hand between both of her own. "She's my friend."