The Shadowglass (The Bone Witch, #3)(48)
We could hear the daeva long before we could see it; a low moaning sound sang through the trees, and the winds sighed in counterpoint. Kalen was quick to disseminate my orders. With the exception of the soldiers already stationed along the way, the rest were to fall back until I said otherwise.
“It sounds like that bellowing could be coming from anywhere,” Likh muttered nervously.
I’d already woven my runes. Chief snorted his eagerness underneath me, pawing a hoof at the soil.
Entering a daeva’s mind for the first time was always a disorienting experience, and the nanghait felt like it had as many minds scrambling for position in its head as it had faces. It was hard and time-consuming, trying to latch on to any one stray thought to find my leverage. Even its view of the world was multifaceted; I could see visions of the Five Rivers, visions of sky across the Swiftsea, visions of the Mithra’s Wall of mountains, and more visions of endless plains. I couldn’t pinpoint its location given the bizarre array of landscapes that collaged together in my mind. It was like multiple daeva minds in one body, each with its own perspective.
It didn’t usually take long to kill a daeva with the Resurrection rune, but I’d never summoned the nanghait before. Now I saw why Mykaela and other Dark asha of the past struggled, why the Yadoshans had more than enough time to spread their own mayhem; it was hard to take charge of a daeva’s mind when a myriad of them existed all in one head and at the same time!
I clutched at Kalen’s sleeve, frantically trying to chase down the wayward, discordant thoughts. “There’re too many of them,” I whispered.
“Too many Yadoshans? There always have been.”
“No. There are too many consciousnesses inside the nanghait. It’s going to take me time to control it.”
Kalen swore. “Which means there’ll be more opportunities for the Yadoshans to get themselves in trouble, won’t it? Likh, we’re going to…” His voice trailed off. “No, wait. I forgot about your wards. Stay close to Tea. You too, Khalad. And by all the festering boils of the seven hells,” he yelled at a few Yadoshans who were stealthily straying, hoping to escape his notice. “Keep away from the woods!”
“Be careful, Kalen, Tea,” Likh pleaded.
“Always.” Kalen marched forward, roaring at the others to remain out in the open, but very few of the Yadoshans were obeying him.
I latched on to one mind and fought to reach another, only to have the one I had anchored start to slide from my grasp. At the same time, the daeva’s moaning grew louder. It was a challenge to corral these runaway globs of awarenesses and still keep an eye out on what was happening on the plain.
My vision dimmed. The nanghait had shut each of its eyes, leaving me in darkness. But its thoughts continued to stream and pivot around me. I made another grab for the nearest, trying to imagine steel ropes binding it to me. “Likh, something’s about to happen. Tell Kalen that the—”
A sudden shrieking nearly made me let go of my hold altogether, and I scrambled to secure my grip as my own eyes caught sight of the nanghait dropping down from a nearby tree, where it had concealed itself all this time. It landed right in front of a poor Yadoshan. The beast seized the unfortunate man by the waist and lifted him up—then dropped him almost immediately as Kalen’s Fire rune sizzled through its arm, scorching the nanghait’s skin.
The Yadoshans began running in all directions at once, whooping and hollering despite the fear evident in their heartsglass. The nanghait turned to face them, still emitting that high-pitched groaning. It reared up on its hind legs and reached down. Clawed talons dug into the ground, coming up with clumps of soil the size of boulders that it lobbed at the warriors, enraged by their antics.
There was a fizzle of magic beside me as the runic wards dissolved, and Likh extended his arms above his head. The ground shuddered again, and a pillar of earth rose, shifting into an arch above us and taking the brunt of the daeva’s attacks. “Everyone, get underneath here!” Likh yelled, and the smarter of the Yadoshans were quick to follow his lead.
“Likh!” Khalad grasped the asha’s hand, looking horrified. “What are you doing?”
“Tea and Kalen can’t do this on their own. Not with this many people.” Likh shook off his grip and ran without a pause in his weaving. The Shield rune he created was easily fifty feet wide. Gritting his teeth, Likh braced his shoulder against the base of the spell, protecting the people cowering underneath it even as the sod assault hammered fruitlessly against it.
As a young girl, I’d played a game called ice and fire with other children in Knightscross. One designated child would be “ice,” and every person ice tagged would remain frozen until another child, representing fire, could tag them back. This felt very much like that game, with more devastating results if I didn’t tag the daeva minds quickly enough.
I snagged one more wandering thought and anchored another to the bundle I’d already harnessed, but I could feel them tugging away, wanting to break free. In contrast to the creature attacking us, its mind was almost playful. Two more, I thought desperately. Two more minds to secure.
Kalen was magnificent. Spear-shaped winds sang through the air and struck with deadly precision, and the nanghait’s voice rose to a near shriek as they cut into its form. All around us, the Yadoshans continued to scramble, some still hollering in glee. I could hear Khalad on my right, yelling at the remaining men to get underneath the protection of Likh’s Shield rune.