Phantom Horde

“What is the plan once we reach Pallas’s grave?” Rhei asked curiously as they set out before dawn the next day. No one had slept well with the yawning emptiness stretching out behind them.

“Oh, I’ve been wanting to talk about this,” Aerin cheered. “Our Lady has this really beautifully complicated magic on Pallas. It trapped him in the place that has come to be known as his Grave for a couple of millennia. The problem is that when our Lady built this prison, she chose to tie the locks to his constellation for some reason. I think it boosts the effect of the mageia? But now, since the stars are moving again, the binding is going to fail.”

“So then…?”

“Our Lady gave me a sigil formula to adjust the binding and tie it to the earth instead. It won’t be as strong and will probably need to be redone every couple of years, but it will hold. As long as it gets done in time, it should be a pretty easy procedure.”

“What happens if the seal gets damaged?” Rhei asked. Asteria’s skin crawled. Rhei shouldn’t be on the receiving end of this vital information. He could so easily use it to come to Pallas’s aid and sabotage the mission.

“We’d all be screwed!” Aerin laughed. “Pallas would be set free.”

They continued chatting aimlessly, Aerin an enthusiastic conversationalist. Rhei listened as he animatedly explained some obscure features of the surrounding mountains. Every so often, Rhei laughed softly at something he said. Nothing about Rhei screamed traitor, but Perses had been just the same.

All of a sudden, Aerin’s voice cut out.

“Hey guys,” Aerin said faintly. “We’ve got company at nine o’clock.” Alexander snapped to attention. They all peered into the distance; it was difficult to distinguish the sand from the haze of the still-purple sky. At first, all that was visible was the faint flicker of a shadow against the ground. Slowly, hundreds of flickering shadows filled the horizon.

“Dammnit,” Alexander cursed. “Phasma! We must be near one of the towns that got wiped out. Go, go!” He shouted, gesturing them forward. “Aerin, you take the lead; we’ll follow!”

Aerin took off with no hesitation, scrambling deftly around rocks and divots in the ground, managing to effortlessly lead the group through the fastest areas even in the dim lighting. He seemed to be seeing ahead of them, calculating the terrain before they could see it, carrying them between jagged outcroppings and loose scree without ever breaking stride.

It wasn’t enough. More and more shadowy figures began pouring from the rocky desert, drawn to the powerful, mageia-infused life forces in their haunting grounds. It had been a long time since Asteria had seen phasma, but they remained as unsettling as always. The being gave the vague impression of being a person, but they were elongated with thin, wispy edges that dissolved into smoke. Where a face would have been, there was hollow emptiness.

They were eerily silent, oppressively muffling the sounds of wind and making no noise despite their clamoring to get to the party. They poured through the valley in a soundless tide, converging on them from every direction. Their forms overlapped and passed through one another, collapsing into indistinguishable masses of shadow before separating again.

One of them lunged at Asteria, mouth opened wide. It didn’t make a sound. Instinct carried her knife through its body. The thing split apart like smoke, only to begin reforming behind her.

“Change of plans,” Alexander shouted. “We just need to hold them off until dawn, and then they’ll scatter. Everyone, to me!” They grouped around the party leader. He rushed them into an alley formed between two looming cliff faces. “Aerin is our priority. Without him, our mission is over.”

“I feel so loved,” Aerin joked as he was shooed into the center of the group.

“We can’t exorcise phantoms without a psychopomp Blessing. Don’t let your guard down if they appear to dissipate. We’ll use the terrain to funnel them together so that we can defend ourselves head-on.” Alex explained grimly. “You two, take the north. I’ll guard from the south.”

Then the shadowy tide was on them. The flickering masses of semi-corporeal, mindless spirits pulsated around them as the beings took turns darting forward and being frightened backward by the flash of a blade. Whenever one was driven back, countless more were there to take its place.

As Asteria turned to push back at one, another lashed out at her back. She spun to block it, but Rhei was already there, xiphos flashing as he swung it through the spirit. It split into tendrils of shadow and melted back into the crowd.

“I do not want your protection!” Asteria hissed, shoving at Rhei. He tried to dodge backward, still touch-averse, and overbalanced when the push connected anyway. He tumbled to the ground, sword flying out of his grip. At the same time, a phantom seemed to recoup its energy and lunged toward Aerin.

Alexander jumped in just in time, covering Aerin with his own body. Angry red welts immediately began to rise everywhere the spirit touched. Rashes split across his sword-bearing wrist, his cheek, and the exposed skin above his collar. He staggered to his feet and swung his golden khopesh at the ghost, and it shied away. Alexander began coughing until the force sent him to his knees. He tried to stand up but failed. Another cough brought blood to his palm.

Aerin paled at the sight.

“Alex!”

“I’m fine.”

“He’s absolutely not fine. We need to kill that ghost!” He shouted. “It’s a plague spirit. If we don’t exorcise it, the curse will turn into a full-fledged plague. Alex will die.”

Asteria braced herself, wondering if enough of her weak necromancy abilities remained to subdue the spirit. “I can handle this,” she promised, reaching toward the phantom. It inched to the side.

Rhei tore one of his new gloves off with his teeth. He raced toward the phantom responsible for cursing Alexander. Satiated with the promise of Alexander’s lifeforce, it fled into the crowd, and Asteria’s heart skipped a bit, sure that they had just lost the spirit to the masses. Rhei watched it for a second, expression conflicted as his eyes scanned the crowd. He had driven the spirit away, and Asteria was sure that they would lose Alexander because of it.

Their temporary leader coughed again. It was an ugly, wet sound. Rhei’s face set with new resolve.

He plunged into the midst of the spirits. For a second, the phantoms swallowed his figure completely, their elongated bodies folding over one another until there was nothing left but a writhing knot of darkness. Rhei emerged, staggering through the crowd and grimacing as their attention turned to him. Their hands clamored eagerly for his exposed skin, drawn to the living warmth of him. Fingers reached for him, tracing along his arms and back, pulling at his hair and tugging at his clothes. A phantom caught hold of his shoulder. Its fingers sank into his flesh like cold smoke, and blisters began crawling up his neck. Each spirit that brushed against his skin dissipated in a puff of smoke, but there were more to take its place. The touches grew more forceful, latching onto his shoulders and trying to drag him down into the masses. With each touch, all manner of injuries attached to him.

“Have you lost your senses?” Asteria shouted.

Rashes and cuts spread across his skin where spectral hands brushed him and just as quickly began to heal as the spirits were destroyed without a sound. Regardless of the quick healing time, pure agony etched itself across Rhei’s face as countless wounds and afflictions replaced each healed one. He stumbled but kept moving.

“Rhei!” Aerin shouted, making as if to follow him into the horde.

“Don't.” Rhei’s voice came out strained. “Stay back.” He kept searching the crowd, brushing past spirits who couldn’t withstand the force of his destructive mageia, even as they fought for his flesh. His head snapped to the left.

“I found it,” he called out. He must have been tracking its mageia signature, Asteria realized. Rhei lunged for the spirit, but it slipped away.

He cursed under his breath and followed, ignoring the spirit's clawing at him from every direction. Rhei’s movements became increasingly unsteady, but he refused to stop. Finally, he managed to grab hold of the phantom that had cursed Alexander, somehow keeping track of it in the chaos of formless shadows.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. With a quick brush of his bare hand against what might have been its shoulder, the ghost was destroyed. It dissipated far too easily, gone in less than an instant as if it had never been there.

Just in time, too. As the first rays of sunlight poked over the rocks, the shadowy spirits split away from Rhei and fled to the edges of the valley. They sank deep into the rocky depths like water sinking through sand and disappeared.

Noise returned to the crevice, wind sweeping through it with the dawn and clearing the miasmic vestiges of the phantom horde. Alexander coughed once more before he was shuddering, relaxing as it cleared the last of the blood from his lungs. He went boneless, collapsing with relief from the burden before he seemed to be reminded of his duty. Alexander struggled to his feet, Aerin gently supporting him. Rhei stood in the middle of the emptied battlefield. His bare hand was trembling. Fading welts and scratches covered his face and arms. He reached down to pick up his glove from where it had been half-buried in sand.

Asteria spun on Rhei, daggers out. “I said I had it handled,” she blazed. “Why did you interrupt? You put our chances of saving Alexander at risk,” she accused.

Rhei stepped back, confused, before his expression hardened, visibly frustrated. It was an odd expression on someone she had yet to see respond to insult with anything other than passive acceptance.

“Out in the field, I am meant to be your superior,” he retorted. “And as much as you showcase your sudden dislike of me, you’re forgetting that you have given me no reason to trust you. What did you hope to accomplish with that spirit? How could you expect me to trust your abilities, when you have been prioritizing your distrust of me over the success of the mission and the safety of our party?”

Asteria flushed with red-hot anger. Who was he to talk about trust? Blood thrummed in her veins, and she raised her daggers.

“Cut it out!” Alexander shouted, voice hoarse. He pushed Asteria away from Rhei with his good hand. “This was not the time to settle whatever personal grievances you have against Rhei. This is a battle.” He glared at Asteria. “You boast to be a brilliant soldier, but if you cannot clear your head enough to keep your priorities straight when we are facing enemies, then you are nothing but a liability. Control yourself, or your immaturity will get one of us killed!” He shook his head. “I understand that Strategos Alista relies on the idea of fate as reassurance, but she was reckless to allow you on this mission just because you came from Delphi.”

Asteria reared back, ready to retort.

Except, he wasn’t wrong.

Asteria would have considered her own behavior reprehensible in wartime. Nothing had mattered to her except for her own goals, her own fears surrounding Perses. He was a potential threat, of course, but she had been reckless since she was the only one who knew the potential threat that Rhei posed. Asteria’s jaw was tight, but she dipped her head in subdued apology.

Alexander seemed ready to demand a more thorough one, but was interrupted from continuing his lectures.

Aerin returned from ruffling through his bag and held out a tincture and bandages to Alexander. “With the phantom exorcised, the worst that may come from this is a minor cold.” Aerin gave Rhei a grateful look. “You’ve done a lot for us. Thank you.”

Rhei dipped his head shyly. “You would do the same.” Asteria watched Rhei lower his gaze. He didn’t appear smug at having saved the man who had spent their school days treating him as a potential enemy. If anything, he looked uncomfortable with the gratitude.

“No,” Alex interrupted, dropping the bandage he had been pulling tight with his teeth. “A couple of days ago, we wouldn’t have. I viewed you as a threat to Athens, without taking into account your efforts to the contrary.”

“A certain someone’s volatile attitude may have put ours into perspective,” Aerin piped up cheerfully. “We’ll be better now,” he promised. Rhei looked hopeful, something about his expression innocent. Suiting a young mortal perhaps, but Asteria could not see past the vision of Perses.

He was playing them, Asteria thought with angry certainty. He wanted them to trust him so that they wouldn’t see the betrayal coming. When he inevitably tries to free Pallas, she would be ready for it. Asteria tightened her grip around the handles of her daggers. She would behave under Alexander’s watchful eye and would act the dutiful soldier.

But she would not be fooled again.