The Ragged Man - By Tom Lloyd Page 0,178

air and he saw two lightning-quick blows take out both Ghosts. As they fell Vesna saw Sir Dace and Swordmaster Pettir were already heading towards him, their weapons drawn - but before they’d gone more than a few steps Vesna saw the Ghost level a black longbow.

Without thinking Vesna called on the magic inside him, reaching out with his empty armoured hand at the archer. The Land fell away from his senses as blistering magic flowed over his body. As the archer fired, Vesna created a smoke-grey shield which appeared in the air to block the arrow before it reached the shrine - then, without warning, he felt the God of War invade his mind.

Before Vesna even had a chance to cry out Karkarn had wrestled control of the magic from his Mortal-Aspect and roughly ripped away the threads binding the shield together. It exploded in white-green light, the energies screaming as they were cast asunder.

Vesna froze in incomprehension as his divine-sharpened eyes watched the arrow race towards him. Then ingrained instinct kicked in and he turned himself left-side-on, bringing his armoured arm across his face to protect himself.

The arrow hit his forearm, driving the black-iron into his face as a searing flash of light exploded all around him. A thunderclap of shattering glass and the copper taste of magic filled the air as a spell blossomed into life upon impact. Vesna felt tiny teeth tearing at his back and shoulders as the force of the blow sent him reeling. He was forced back, barely keeping his feet, as he was buffeted by streams of magic flowing past him. Noise crashed against his ears, and dark stars burst in his eyes as a sudden weight of raw power enveloped him.

He staggered again as he heard the crash of glass on the shrine. The pain fled as a cold, black dread struck him in the gut. He tried to see, but he could make no sense of the blur before him. Shards of glass, droplets of blood and tiny pieces of linen and silk were whirling in the air like snowflakes, covering the shrine. His breath caught as a fragment of blue cloth caught by the storm whipped past his eyes and then, as suddenly as it had struck, the magic winked out of existence.

Vesna lurched forward, pieces of glass crunching under his boot. He alone was standing; the shrine had been scoured of everyone behind him. As he skidded on the blood he grabbed a pillar to steady himself. He felt empty as he saw the bodies at his feet. They were covered in blood from head to foot, their finery shredded by the lethal shards, and at first he could not recognise any of them. He made a grab for the nearest - a man . . . He shoved the corpse aside and scrambled for the next.

From the back of his mind Karkarn’s spirit cut through the panicked cloud of his thoughts and he focused on one body: Anad Introl, Tila’s father.

He ran forward and pulled the man up. Introl was wrapped around a figure trapped underneath him, as if he had thrown himself on top as protection. His arms were slippery, and far too thin - distantly Vesna realised with horror they’d had been flensed to bone, and the wetness was his blood. A terrible pain was blossoming in his chest. The person he had been trying to protect was his beloved daughter.

Vesna felt a great scream building up inside him. Tila’s face had been barely touched by the glass - Vesna could see only one small scratch on her forehead - but it was contorted in pain. He made to lift her body, but stopped, his heart pounding . . . did she just move? He knelt, ignoring the lethal debris, and slipped one hand gently underneath her. Tila began to tremble, then took a shallow, shuddering gasp. Vesna’s most ardent prayer and worst fears were realised: Tila was alive, but he could see she was grievously injured, her back sliced in ribbons . . .

‘No,’ Vesna whispered, cradling his bride as gently as he could, ‘lie still, stay with me.’

Tila’s lips parted, as though she was about to speak, but even that slight movement sent a spasm of agony across her face.

‘Hush now,’ Vesna whispered, half-sobbing with terror, ‘dearest love, Tila, stay with me . . .’

He saw her eyes focus on him suddenly as his voice momentarily cut through her pain. She looked into

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