Aislynn began to fire into the throng. Wolves howled in pain and fell to the side, knocking over those closest to them and causing chain reactions of wolves and goblins falling atop each other.
The voices of the goblins rose, words indistinct but confusion and panic clear in the sound. Laire brought her hands together and flung them out, and a ball of fire fifteen feet in diameter hurled through the air and smashed into the advancing creatures.
Screams rent the air, burnt flesh and ash swirling in the currents and reaching Larissa even through the barrier.
“Laire, how much spell power do you have left?” Aislynn asked, still firing arrows into the fray.
“Not much. I wanted to make sure the wizard was out of the equation for good.”
“Then keep it in reserve. We’ll be okay without it.”
How much. That’s right, wizards and mages could only do so much magic a day, the strength of the caster being the deciding factor on how much they cast and how strong those spells would be. Larissa looked over towards the Asian woman. So Laire either wasn’t very strong or this was the end of a very busy day for her.
Fallon had arrived in front of the advancing direwolves. The animals snarled and hurled themselves at her, as if they were delighted they finally had an enemy in front of them to tear into.
She swung her sword and cut through a half dozen of them, their blood flying through the sky in splatters as thick as paint. She whirled, the battle becoming a dance, the wolves and the goblins her partners in a death waltz.
The three warriors were swift and sure, their movements as choreographed as any on stage. They weaved and they jumped, making graceful arcs with their bodies and their weapons.
The bodies of the dead were piling up, lying across the once-empty landscape. Thank gods it was dark enough that the small details were not visible, like the pools of blood and the strewn body parts such a display must leave behind.
Finally, few enough of the army remained that Terak landed, battling now with claws and wings. A direwolf lunged for him, but Terak tore through the creature’s throat, slicing through it with his claws. The goblin riding on it tried to stab Terak, but he grabbed the sword with his other hand, impaling the goblin on its own blade.
The mad rush was now over and those remaining were more precise, taking their time and studying Terak and Fallon.
Terak’s wings flared, his clawed hands coming up before him, blood dripping from the ends. “You think you can come here and take what is mine? Go now, go and tell your masters that the woman is under my protection. Tell them that no one will ever touch her, and anyone who comes. Against. Me. Will. Die!”
He was a god of vengeance, a demon arising from the night to destroy everything in his path. The direwolves bent before his final roar, their heads dropping and their ears flattening against their heads. The goblins cowered as well. A handful turned away at that point, racing back into the night.
“Cowards. Like the necromancers aren’t going to kill them for failing.” Aislynn’s approach was silent and Larissa jumped when she heard the voice. “Laire, drop the shield. It’s over.”
The mage did as requested, and the elf came to sit on the wall beside Larissa.
Laire came back as well, sitting on Larissa’s other side. “Aren’t you two going to help finish this?” Larissa asked.
“What, and mess up my hair?” Laire’s hand went to plump up her ringlets. “Heck no. Besides, Fallon loves this shit.”
Larissa’s attention went to Terak first, but he had finished with the creatures near him. She turned to Fallon to see the woman bring her sword on an upstroke and slice both a direwolf and the goblin riding it in two.
There was something amazing watching Fallon wield her sword, the arc of metal and the sureness of movement the woman displayed, slicing through her enemies without pause. A brutal, bloody beauty. As if she read Larissa’s mind – and who knew, maybe she did – Laire sighed in admiration. “Watching that woman, it’s like damn.”
Aislynn nodded in agreement.
One final move, one final death of an enemy at her hands, and Fallon landed on the ground before them, her hand and one knee resting on soil, her sword held high in the air, surrounded by the dead. She rose, slow and sure, a goddess of war demanding her beaten, ravaged due, leaving no space untouched with her eyes as she circled and surveyed the battlefield.
Satisfied with what she saw, Fallon turned to the three of them sitting on the wall. “And that is how you do it! You may bow before me now, peons.”
To Aislynn and Larissa, Laire said, “And then she opens her mouth, and all wonderment vanishes.”
Aislynn nodded in agreement.