God of Broken Things (The Age of Tyranny) by Cameron Johnston

Author:Cameron Johnston [Johnston, Cameron]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Watkins Media
Published: 2019-06-11T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 19

From our safe vantage point, we watched the Skallgrim scouts moving through the narrowest point of the entire valley – a mere ten paces wide and fifty long – their keen eyes scouring the way ahead through a thin morning mist that coiled around them like a living thing. They paused to listen at every scuff of foot on stone, bird cry and crack of ice and rock, as if they too had heard chilling tales of entire armies disappearing into the misty depths of the Clanholds. Although knowing what I did about the Scarrabus they undoubtedly feared failing their masters more than fighting us. It would be wise to learn exactly what they knew and it occurred to me that I should probably see about capturing one alive without burning out their mind and memory.

“Knowledge is power,” Eva whispered to me with eerie synchronicity. “And knowledge of terrain has won many a battle against superior forces.”

She glanced to Granville, his eyes closed and fingers sunk deep into solid rock. “We have knowledge, terrain, and magic all on our side. This will be a slaughter.” She waited until the Skallgrim scouts had passed and the armoured vanguard were halfway through before flashing another signal towards the far side of the valley.

Down on the valley floor one of the Skallgrim noticed the blinking light and pointed up, but it was far too late to do anything about what was coming.

Never fight a geomancer in the mountains, and always, always flee from two. The ground thumped like a giant had punched it, and I watched in awe as Granville, and Cormac over on the far side of the valley, caused the entire rock face on either side to shatter and slide down in an inexorable mass towards the Skallgrim advance. The enemy found themselves trapped between two oncoming waves of rumbling rock, ice and snow. Their terror was a sharp knife twisting in my gut as they fought and climbed over each other in desperation to escape forward or back. Only a few made it out before the avalanches hit, their relief a fluttering thing with heavy wings of guilt.

It crashed down on the heads of the enemy, killing the lucky ones outright. Others were buried alive, broken and bleeding and gasping for breath as rock squeezed hard on cracked ribs. I shuddered and looked away, remembering my own entombment beneath the earth only too well. Unlike me, I doubted anybody would spend the time to dig them out – they would probably perish of thirst or frostbite after a long and drawn-out ordeal. It was a horrific way to die.

Back in the city I used to think that water and fire were the two deadliest elemental affinities a Gift could boast, one swift and deadly, the other capable of massive destruction and fear. I was now reassessing that opinion.

Eva shoved me back from the icy ridge. Fire bloomed across rock with an angry hiss. “Halrúna,” Eva stated. “Two-no, three, coming up to examine the rockfall.

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