Zach Brenner's Arc

Chapter 33 of 86

The peaks fell behind them by the third day. Talon led the way down a ridge trail no map showed, Raven's brother reading the land like a page. He had tracked Malachar's men across these northern hills for five years, and he moved without pausing at forks that stopped everyone else cold. Zach walked close behind him. Only Talon knew this road, and Fairhaven and its airship waited at its end. "Left here," Talon said, cutting off the wider path. "The open road runs into a nest." He was right. Below the ridge, three-eyed shapes crawled across the very trail he'd refused. Fangcrawlers. Their armored backs caught the light as they hunted. Zach counted five, maybe six. Without Talon, the group would have walked straight into them. The smallest one broke off and charged uphill. Zach drew his blade and stepped past Talon. He stopped fighting the weight the way the King had taught him. The sword came up light and sure. The fangcrawler leapt. Zach met it clean through the skull. Then something new happened. The creature didn't just fall. It burst apart, a flash of white light throwing chunks of it across the snow. Zach staggered back, staring at his hand. The blade hummed against his palm, warm now, alive. "Did you see that?" Lyra had. "That wasn't your strike," she said. "That was the sword." A second fangcrawler rushed him before he could answer. Zach turned into it without thinking. The moment steel touched hide, the same light flared and the thing came apart in the air. He felt it that time, a pull, like the sword had reached out and taken the kill itself. Raven's bolts dropped a third. Talon's katanas flashed twice and two more fell in the snow. The last one fled downhill. Then the trail went quiet. Zach stood breathing hard, looking at the blade. "It's connecting to me," he said. "I don't understand how. But it wants to fight." "Then Geneva will tell you why," Raven said. She rested a hand on his arm. "You said it yourself. We can't beat Malachar until you know what you're holding." Talon sheathed his swords and pointed past the last slope. Below them the land opened flat toward the sea. A city sprawled along the gray coast, and rising above its docks stood a tall mast, and lashed to it, a long hull with folded wings. "Fairhaven," Talon said. "And there's my ship." Zach looked from the airship to the sword in his fist. The route was crossed. Talon had brought them through, and the machine that would carry them to Geneva sat waiting below. "Then we don't stop," Zach said. "We board her and we fly south." He started down the last slope, the group behind him, the sea wind rising to meet them.