Aspect Arlyn’s face betrayed no recognition as he regarded Nortah, nor any emotion at all as his gaze shifted to Lyrna, though his eyes narrowed slightly.
“Aspect!” Nortah said again, taking a forward step, sword arm now limp at his side. “Do you know me?”
The Aspect’s gaze switched back to Nortah, the long features giving a faint tic of remembrance. “I know you, brother,” he said in a soft, reflective tone. “You died.”
He raised his free hand, paused a moment in expressionless consideration, then gave a barely perceptible flick of his wrist and the Arisai surged forward, manic joy on every face, swords moving in a blur of expertly wrought carnage. At first the Queen’s Daggers recoiled from the assault, Lyrna finding herself crushed between Davoka and Iltis as the surrounding ranks compressed, but the pressure slackened as they voiced another savage roar, rallied and fought back.
She struggled to turn, catching a glimpse of Nortah in combat with the Aspect, face drawn in reluctance as he fended off Arlyn’s blows. “Sister!” Lyrna called to Davoka, holding her spear above the thrashing ranks, eyes watching hawk-like for an opportunity to use it.
“The flasks!” Lyrna forced her way to the Lonak’s side, grabbing her arm. “Do you have the flasks?”
Davoka blinked at her in momentary bafflement then nodded, patting the small satchel at her side. “Only two.”
“Stay by me.”
She slapped Iltis’s shoulder to get his attention and pointed to Nortah, now backing away under a furious assault from the Aspect, dodging thrusts from the surrounding Arisai as he did so. Iltis nodded and began to push through the ranks of soldiers. As they neared the edge of the formation the Lord Protector was obliged to sidestep a thrust from an Arisai, the red-gauntleted hand holding the sword flashing into the space between him and Lyrna. She hacked down with the hatchet, the blade biting through the grieve to part sever the wrist. The Arisai collapsed at her feet, looking up with a grin, rich in lust and admiration. Lyrna’s hatchet came down again, shattering his skull above the eyes.
Iltis cleared the outer ring of soldiers and forced the Arisai back with wide sweeps of his sword. Lyrna held out a hand to Davoka who instantly filled it with a flask, the stopper already removed. Another Arisai slipped past Iltis, sword raised level with his head for a short, expert stab at Lyrna’s throat. Her hand jerked reflexively, casting a stream of dark liquid from the flask directly into his eyes. The reaction was instantaneous, the Arisai’s sword falling from his grip as he arched his back and howled, hands scrabbling at his face, fingers digging into the flesh. Watching him collapse to writhe on the temple floor, Lyrna had the satisfaction of seeing that all vestige of a smile had vanished from his face.
Nortah was only a few feet away now, forced to a crouch by the weight of Aspect Arlyn’s blows, all delivered with a blurring fury whilst his face remained a pale mask. A trio of Arisai charged into Iltis’s path, the combined assault forcing him to a halt, cuts appearing on his sword arm and forehead. Lyrna stepped to his side and swept the flask from left to right in a wide arc, the Mahlessa’s compound spraying forth to spatter onto the Arisai, most of the liquid falling onto their armour but enough finding exposed flesh to send them screaming to the stone floor.
Beyond them Nortah was now on his back, scrabbling away as the Aspect loomed closer, blade flashing. The Lord Marshal fended off the blows with typical efficiency, but Lyrna noted how he still restrained himself, failing to thrust at the openings left by the Aspect’s relentless assault.
“Aspect Arlyn!” He paused at her call, sword drawn back and sparing her only a short, incurious glance, but it was enough. The flask was empty save for a few droplets on the nozzle. She put all her strength into the throw, the flask turning end over end to collide with the Aspect’s face. For a moment she thought it hadn’t worked, that all the compound had been exhausted, but then saw a single glistening bead on his cheek, his face transformed into a wide-eyed, frozen scream. He sank to all fours, his sword clattering to the stones, shuddering as he fought to control the convulsions.
One of the Arisai gave a regretful chuckle and rushed forward, blade poised to strike at the Aspect’s back, then doubled over as Nortah’s sword stabbed up to pierce his breastplate. The Lord Marshal surged to his feet, sword moving in a silver blur as more Arisai closed in.
