The Ragged Man - By Tom Lloyd Page 0,169

any good, but if this all went wrong he didn’t want to die empty-handed.

A dark shadow descended over them all. For a moment Venn thought it was Vellern, swooping from on high, but then he felt the familiar touch of Azaer on his mind and relaxed.

The moment didn’t last long; in the next instant there was a swirl of air a few yards away that seemed to fold in upon itself and Venn blinked and found himself staring at the stern, hairless face of Vellern. Standing eight feet tall, with a mantle of peacock feathers that reached all the way to the ground, the God of Birds glared around, searching for Jackdaw.

The God carried a long jet-black javelin in his taloned hands. He levelled the weapon at Venn, who took a step back, his hand tightening on his sword. Vellern advanced a step, half-turning his back on the Wither Queen in his fury.

‘You elude me no longer, traitor,’ Vellern said, his voice sharp and quick like an eagle’s cry.

Jackdaw was busy and Venn didn’t reply, but he drew his sword, which enraged the God further. Venn took another step back and Vellern followed, raising the javelin high, ready to stab down at him.

The blow never came. As one the spectral rats leaped, and the swirling spirits darted at Vellern’s face. He ignored the rats entirely and slapped away the first spirit to reach him. Its smoky form dissipated entirely as Vellern’s hand passed through it without resistance. The second fared no better, casually destroyed without regard, and though the rats tore and raged at Vellern’s legs their efforts were too insignificant to warrant attention.

But they were just distraction, and a fat arc of raw, spitting energy raced from Venn’s sword tip and struck Vellern hard enough to make the God reel. It was followed by another, then another, each one driving Vellern a pace back as it hit home. The Wither Queen stepped forward now, a long stiletto in each hand.

Jackdaw changed his attack and threw a writhing coil of white energy that blew apart Vellern’s javelin, while the Wither Queen stabbed her knives into the God. Vellern parried the blows with his hands and kicked out at her, raking talons down her chest and causing her to screech in pain.

Jackdaw renewed his efforts, lashing out and tearing great rents in his peacock mantle. Venn felt a shudder run from deep inside him and he howled with pain as Jackdaw punched forward, knocking Vellern from his feet.

The Wither Queen and her rats pounced, a swirling mass that swarmed over the supine figure.

Venn’s every sense was spinning and he was struggling to move as he saw the rats tearing at Vellern’s white speckled tunic, trying to rend the flesh beneath. The Wither Queen had greater success, stabbing one stiletto into Vellern’s shoulder and pinning him to the ground.

Venn felt a burning sensation on his fingers as though they were aflame. When he looked down he saw his fingers were blackened trying to control a crackling ball of energy. In his mind Jackdaw gibbered with drunken delight.

‘Yield to me,’ the Wither Queen screeched triumphantly, ‘yield and submit - accept me as your God, or you die now.’

Venn saw the horror in Vellern’s eyes. The God looked past the Wither Queen and directly at him, fearing the surging ball of magic in his hand. Venn raised his hand and his intent was obvious. The rats continued to attack and now the God could feel them, writhing under their assault as he lay there with one shoulder pinned to the ground. With a gesture the Wither Queen halted the rats and underlined her demand by putting the other stiletto to Vellern’s throat.

‘I yield,’ the God cried at last. ‘In your service I will live.’

The last words were said in a resigned pant, but the Wither Queen was not yet satisfied. The glee plain on her face, she slammed her free hand into Vellern’s chest and drove her broken fingernails through the flesh. Vellern howled, but the Wither Queen ignored him and pushed down to where a mortal’s heart would be.

The Goddess found what she was looking for and wrenched her hand out again, this time closed around something. She held her prize up and laughed, the noise like a person choking their last few breaths. She raised her hand to her mouth and opened it, and Venn caught a glimpse of a golden wisp of light before it was devoured.

The Wither Queen licked the

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