a just beyond his reach. "I'm sorry I didn't help you, Emret." He whispered.
He ran to his son and picked up the limp body. As soon as he was on his feet he heard the low blare of a war horn.
Behind him a sea of Botann soldiers swarmed down towards the center of the garden. A row of archers raised their bows into the air and released another volley of arrows that came slicing down through the air around him, cutting into the grass with a violent cacophony of noise.
He spun around to face his attackers. Again the anger surfaced. They would all die before the end of this, he swore.
He noticed that Valance was watching him, his weapon still held in the air to form the protective shield with the others. “Listen to this man, you fool! Go take your son!” He yelled.
Several new fingers of darkness shot across the sky from the storm hovering over the peaks of a mountain in the distance.
Bedic yelled again. “The storm. It’s still coming.” You must control your anger. You can’t bring it here. It’ll destroy the Red! That’s what it wants. That’s what it’s been looking for since you let it out!”
“I’m trying,” Handers yelled back. He turned again to the glowing hill just beyond the shallow pond. He splashed through the water carrying his son quickly towards the thicket at the top.
Bedic turned to look up at the sky as he followed behind Handers. The thin fingers were now a swollen mass of dark that was swirling directly over them. Lighting flashed casting a blinding pulse of light across the valley.
Bedic stopped as two black funnels dropped down out of the cloud. "Hurry Handers!
Handers turned and looked up at the sky in time to see the two black funnels slam into the ground by the outer barrier of the garden. Botann soldiers scattered. Others were sucked into the cloud.
Handers smiled.
“RUN!” Bedic yelled.
Handers glanced back at Bedic. He didn't understand the urgency, the panic in Bedic's voice. He'd been with the storm before. He wasn't the one in danger, they were.
But there was something different this time. More of the storm had come with the funnels. The sky was quickly filling with a strange, moving blackness. Hundreds of tiny arms stretched out of the sky, clawing toward the ground, towards the middle of the garden, towards the red glow.
“Handers. GO now!” Bedic yelled.
Despite the storm, the Botann soldiers still charge forward towards Handers. Determined despite the threat.
The Petra soldiers too had decided to attack, flooding into the garden behind the Bota.
Handers ran towards the hill, now so close he could almost touch it. He felt his feet push against the ground with the rhythm of his heart beat, sending his body, his son closer with each step. He focused on the movement, allowing it to drown out his desire to turn back, to make sure the storm did what he had hoped it would. It took all his concentration not to stop, turn around and watch it destroy them.
Another volley of arrows landed in front and to the side of him. They were still attacking! They were still trying to stop him!
Impossible! The storm, it should’ve taken care of them, it should’ve wiped them out. He couldn’t help it, he turned to see what was going on.
Valance’s protective shield was gone. He and his men were dodging out of the way of a massive black funnel spiraling towards them.
Some of the Botan soldier had gotten close. One of them was aiming a bow at him.
Then a sharp but quick pain pierced his chest followed by an unimaginable burn. He panicked, turned, and tried to run. But the ground, instead of passing under his feet, rushed up towards his face, striking him as it hit.
He fingers searched across his chest for the pain and found the tip of an arrow protruding from his skin. There was pain; there was immobility in his shoulder. But still he could move his arm. His legs? He got to his knees. Then to his feet. It hurt, but he could still move. He could still carry his son.
The thicket was in front of him, within his grasp. He took a step forward. He was too close to be stopped now!
Another stabbing pain shot through his back. Then another. He lost his balance and fell to his knees. Two more metal tips protruded from his chest.
The ground below his feet wobbled. Still, he willed himself forward far