10. Following The Trail

They set off through the dunes, following the tracks of the ormuffs. They assumed Lanyur hadn't jumped because she had been with them when the call had gone out to do so, and none had seen her fall.

They walked for less than three hours, and in that time the air got dramatically colder: no sunlight meant no warmth. The sand itself froze, lattices of crystal crawling down the sides of dunes like lava out of a volcano. The hoof prints in the sand faded in the wind and then iced over, level with the rest of the sand, becoming more difficult to follow.

But follow they did. Skenleth's sensitive nose picked up the scent of the ormuffs, even where the prints were invisible. They moved painfully slowly, and each of them knew that Lanyur could be hurt. What if she had fallen from her ormuff? Several false starts shook their confidence even more.

Then Litam stumbled, literally, across a new set of ormuff prints that converged with the ones they were following. Where its hooves had touched sand, it hadn't frozen, and black vapour rose from the puddles of thick, toxic brew that filled each print in the sand.

Kvélactaptúng ha zadered dekrisz stonisz! Skenleth breathed, eyes wide. He then remembered they couldn't understand him. He could only translate one word:

Kveilaz.

Not that nonsense again! snapped Litam, wincing.

Koshos threw up her paws at Litam. It is another ormuff, and its tracks are either very fresh or enchanted. They are headed the vay ve vere, so we must assume Lanyur is in this direction too.

Briole's flint-face washed over with pain for the briefest of moments, before turning impassive again. The four beasts began to run, following the steaming prints.

Then it appeared over the horizon—a huge, monstrous form, black as the night sky against a patch of ivory-white sand: a fortress. It was pumping dark smoke into the sky, obscuring the stars and the moon.

Spines and hooks curved wickedly out of it in every direction, and spots of blood-red light flickered on and off almost randomly from within its cruel shape.

In front of it was a flat, broad mass that ebbed and flowed in upon itself. It was an army. And it was as black as night as well.

It's them… The Army of Darkness… Litam quivered. They were at our village, when it… he trailed off, his throat going dry. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping the soldiers would be gone when he opened them. They weren't.

They were at my village too, Litam, and they almost trampled us to death at Dallia, Briole intoned.

Then, something curious began to happen. The army appeared to get larger. But without any details to draw conclusions from—the desert had grown too dark to see anything more than shapes—Litam couldn't tell if they were adding new soldiers, or if the soldiers themselves were becoming bigger, it wasn't clear in the darkness. Then his eyes adjusted and he understood what he saw.

They were moving closer.

Litam spun around and began to run as fast as his legs could carry him. Trailing behind him were his fellow beasts, none of whom looked back.

There was a loud rumbling, and a stream of smoke shot right over Litam's head, so close that the wind it made flattened the fur on his head. It streamed right into the sharp black shapes, and a ball of dazzling white light exploded outward from where it impacted. The blast illuminated the army, and Litam turned to catch a glimpse.

They were not like any beasts Litam had ever seen before. Great lizards they were, with scars of every shape and size imaginable. They wore chitinous armour, carried wicked spiked swords, and were still headed in his direction.

A second or two later, Litam and company were knocked over by a blast of noise and wind. The light faded, and many of the soldiers were gone. Not dead on the ground: simply no longer there.

Shouting wafted toward the mouse, and his friends quickly got back on their feet. Litam got up and ran too—right into a wall of snow-white ormuffs, each mounted by armoured beasts. A separate green and gold standard fluttered above all of them, while a select few held silver trumpets.

Teszéntaptúng! Skenleth shouted. Litam guessed at his meaning: the Army of Tsesanne!

One of the mounted beasts, draped in an emerald cloak, yelled something backward. A row of new smoke trails shot up from behind the ormuffs, in the direction of the Army of Darkness. But that army was mobilized too, now, and they shot their own cannons, hitting the artillery fire in midair; it was clearly a weapon guided with magic. Neither side felt a thing as the projectiles negated each other.

Litam tore his gaze from this and scuttled between the legs of an ormuff. The beast riding it was not pleased. He caught Litam's tunic with his halberd, dragging the mouse out and holding him at arm's length in the air.

Carjis ya! shouted the cloaked beast Litam had previously noticed, and the poor mouse was suddenly dangling not over the frozen ground but over a sea of heads rushing toward the black mass.

Qake ya dés yoalaisz ilsen! was the next command, then the beast urged his mount over to Litam, stopping right in front of him. Litam tried to shrink into his clothes like a turtle into its shell.

Ke d'a lamereźe ya?! asked the beast, but the mouse stared blankly—he didn't speak Tsesial. He looked over to Skenleth for help, but couldn't find the fox anywhere on the battlefield.

Blarmiko jiq?! the beast tried next, struggling to be heard over the stampeding ranks. Miraculously, not so much as a hoof touched him.

Chaja bansozel! Litam shouted back, reciting the only old tongue he knew by heart: I don't understand!

The sea of beasts was now completely past them, and had started to mingle with the Army of Darkness.

Do you understand this? the beast asked, no longer needing to shout.

Litam nodded quickly. I do, yes, definitely! My name is Litam! he volunteered, then paused. How do you know Mitarian?

I know it because many of my soldiers used to live in Mitaria before Nikros came to power. Necessity breeds knowledge, you know, and I must admit it was a difficult tongue to learn, the beast responded. I am General Aaruden, and I command these troops in the name of Her Holiest Majesty Selassei. You don't look like a follower of Kveilaz. What brings you here, a beast unable to speak the language of the land or even that of the ancients?

We've come from Mitaria to warn your empress of… well, of that, I suppose, Litam replied, pointing toward the blackness.

Then I apologize for this indignity. Sierre Kettmael, wib'bashi iiq! he bowed to Litam, who was subsequently lowered back down to the iced sand. Koshos curtsied to the general, Briole and Skenleth bowed, and Litam stood up and looked indignant.

A screeching was heard overhead and then there was a huge pit in the sand-ice. A number of Tsesial soldiers fell in and disappeared.

General, we need to reach Selassei as soon as possible, but we think one of our companions is in that monstrosity! Please, save her! Briole shouted urgently.

We are under orders to cripple this outpost and then return to Her Majesty. But good sir, your friend is likely dead already. The Army of Darkness does not keep prisoners.

Briole shook his head silently. An explosion rocked them, but he didn't even notice it.

Then, the dark shape of the enemy rose up into view, many of its jet-black ormuffs dragging white-armoured corpses behind them. The Army of Darkness was reduced in size but there were still too many of them.

What? How could this happen? Where are our troops? Aaruden cried out. We should have been able to crush them. Something is wrong; the enemy must control more of the Unholy Stones than we thought! Dés eqinastisz, dés soldatisz, qile ya!

The mounted beasts swerved around and began galloping away. Litam, Koshos, Briole and Skenleth were pulled up and onto ormuffs by several of the riders. The Army of Darkness followed them for several miles, but broke off chase and turned back. Haunting laughter drifted toward Litam, and it chilled him.

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