A Call for Brighter Days: Aeriel Trilogy #2

The great hall was bigger and better lit than any other part of the dingy old castle. It was also chock full of armed guards and Aeriels.

Ruban concealed himself carefully behind a wide stone pillar, close to the entrance of the tunnel he’d just emerged from. He folded the blueprint Vik had purloined from the National Library archives and slid it into a pocket. Whatever happened, he wouldn’t be needing it again this evening.

Inhaling deeply, he drew his weapons – his sifblade in his left hand and the comfortable weight of his service pistol in his right.

Keeping his body pressed firmly behind the pillar, he risked a quick glance at the bright, spacious hall a few paces down the corridor.

From his vantage point, he could just about make out Janak Nath. Flanked by six men and three Aeriels, he stood near the back of the hall. One of the Aeriels was Kaheen, her expression stony. They were framed by two wide, arched windows that allowed some of the fading sunlight to filter into the room.

There were guards positioned at every corner and alcove that Ruban could see. He wondered where Ashwin was. Kaheen had said he’d be here, but he wasn’t among the Aeriels surrounding Janak. And Ruban didn’t want to hit him or Simani by accident.

Well, there was nothing for it but to move forward with the plan. He raised his gun and quickly picked off the two guards stationed closest to the giant double doors.

The telltale crackle of energy in the air told Ruban what was coming. He flattened himself to the floor and covered his head with both hands. Moments later, an energy shell crashed into the pillar he’d been hiding behind, sending chunks of stone flying in all directions.

Ruban sprang to his feet, firing as he rose, and charged straight into the great hall.

Bullets whizzed past him as he loped down the corridor, moving as fast as possible without tiring himself out. He’d shot down three more guards before crossing the threshold into the great hall.

Focused as he was on the trigger-happy thugs, he almost missed the Aeriel closing in on him from the side. Wings unfurled, hair blowing wildly around its pale, angular face, the Aeriel bore down on him swiftly. It ignored the bullets flying around the stone chamber with the blithe unconcern of the invulnerable, a luxury Ruban couldn’t afford.

He leapt back, pitching a sifkren at his attacker as he did so. The Aeriel swerved right to dodge the sifkren. As it swept closer to the ground, Ruban sprang forward and grabbed its right wing. He used his grip as leverage to pull himself further up the creature’s body and latch on to its neck.

The Aeriel swerved once again to try and dislodge him, but Ruban kept his hold, nicking the back of its neck with his sifblade. With a snarl, the Aeriel flew upwards. Its body jerked violently from side to side, in a bid to throw him off.

Ruban held on, using his new, elevated vantage point to pick off most of the remaining guards. Then, he plunged the sifblade between the Aeriel’s shoulder blades. The light spilling out from the wound all but blinded him. Moments before the creature crashed noisily to the floor, he pulled the weapon out and dropped down behind a sturdy-looking cupboard.

He inserted a new magazine into his pistol, adjusted his grip on the sifblade, and peeked cautiously out from behind the large wooden cupboard.

The hall was littered with dead bodies.

Near the back of the room, a defensive circle had formed, with Janak Nath at its center. The men around him gripped their weapons tightly, their movements jittery and restless. Kaheen was nowhere to be seen. The one remaining Aeriel hovered inches above the gathered men, the movement of its outstretched wings nearly imperceptible.

Ruban could pick out the sounds of racing footsteps in the distance.

He breathed out sharply. Reinforcements were on the way.

A small, metallic glint in one of the few shadowy corners of the hall drew his gaze. He squinted, turning slightly.

As his brain registered exactly what his eyes had seen, Ruban’s throat closed up, his chest constricting until it was hard to breathe.

He blinked once, then again.

Nothing changed.

Ashwin remained chained to the far wall, his hair and clothes in disarray, his wings skewered through with what looked to be a long, sif-plated rod. His usually iridescent clothes were torn and dirty. There were shadows under his pearly eyes. Even the hair that framed the taut, ashen face looked matted and lifeless in the dim light.

A few feet to his left, hidden deeper in the shadows, Simani was shackled to the wall in much the same way as Ashwin. Ruban could make out very little of her features, but she seemed reasonably healthy and intact, if a little thinner than when he’d seen her last.

Ashwin had evidently succeeded in diverting Janak’s attention away from her. Not for the first time, Ruban wished he’d made Kaheen bring him here, in her stead.

As he watched – gut churning with a combination of horror and relief – Ruban realized that Ashwin held something small and metallic in one cuffed hand. He was using it to poke at the manacle around his other wrist. He bit his lower lip in concentration (a tic he’d undoubtedly picked up from Simani), as he poked and twiddled at the iron cuff all but digging into his flesh.

A moment later, Ashwin smiled, and the manacle clicked open.

Ruban leapt to his feet and launched himself at Janak Nath and his bodyguards. He shot down two of the remaining men and broke another’s nose, before an energy shell grazed his bicep. He swallowed a cry of pain and kept going.

He had to distract them; had to make sure they didn’t see what Ashwin was doing.

He threw a sifkren at the Aeriel and brained a short, wiry thug with the butt of his gun.

It was just that the only distraction he could think of, at the moment, was himself.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Ruban saw Ashwin – now free of the shackles – creeping stealthily towards Simani.