Forest Kingdom Trilogy 2 - Blood and Honor

with murderous ease, and the Unreal fought each other for the privilege of dragging him down. Cord stood his ground and let them come to him. He felt no anger towards them.
    They were his brothers, in a way, born like him of random chaos and Unreality, without mother or father, sprung adult and fully formed into a world that was forever alien to them. Cord looked like a man and felt like a man, but he had never made the mistake of believing himself to be a man. He was a whim made flesh and blood, a possibility given form and motion, nothing more. He was Unreal. And a traitor to his own kind, perhaps. But still he fought on, guarding the back of a man he'd come to admire, and a woman he might have loved, if he'd been Real. Roderik cut and thrust with his sword, and wondered how everything could have gone so horribly wrong. His plan had seemed so perfect in the beginning, so simple and straightforward. Everyone had said so. But first the little things had got out of control, and then the bigger things, until finally he had come to realise that he was only a part in someone else's plan. A bitter resignation was all that kept him going now; that, and a burning hatred for the vile creatures that swarmed around him. Whatever he might have been and done, the Castle was his home, and always had been, and
    while he might not fight for a Prince or a King, he'd fight to preserve his home from the foulness that threatened it.
    Jordan swung his sword with an aching arm, stumbling and sliding on the blood-soaked floor. His blows were getting slower and weaker, and his lungs burned in his chest as he fought for air. He was an actor, not a soldier, and he knew he couldn't last much longer. His will and determination were as strong as ever, but there was a limit beyond which even they couldn't drive his failing body. He glanced about him as he fought, trying to see how the battle went, but the Hall had become a confused mass of struggling bodies that defied any clear interpretation. There seemed no end to the Unreal, and no matter how many creatures fell, there were always more to take their place. His guards were fighting fiercely, but one by one they were falling beneath bloody fangs and claws, and not rising again. His colleagues around him were still fighting well, but he could see strain and fatigue stamped clearly on their faces. The throne on its dais stood safe and secure, and the thorn barrier that surrounded it was only a few feet away, but it slowly occurred to Jordan that he might not have enough strength left to take him those last few feet.
    He worked his way over to Taggert, and they fought side by side.
    'Kate, how much magic have you got left?'
    'Not much, Viktor. I was trained as a Steward, not a sorcerer.'
    'Think you've got enough left for one good blast? Enough to clear me a path through the thorns to the dais?'
    Taggert looked briefly at the gap between them and the throne. 'Maybe. But that would take everything I've got. It'd be a hell of a risk. You'd only get one chance at the throne, and then the creatures would be all over you. You sure you want to risk that?'
    'If you've got a better idea, I'd love to hear it.'
    Taggert laughed shakily. 'All right, you're on. But you'd better be right about this, Viktor. Because if I get killed here, I'll never forgive you.'
    They shared a quick smile, and then Taggert focused her awareness inwards, calling up the light of life that burned within her. It was already seriously diminished but there was enough left to do the job. If she was lucky. She dismissed her shimmering sword and discharged all her power in one controlled blast.
    Balefire flared up all around her, seething and churning, and then roared away from her towards the throne. The creatures in its path were incinerated in a moment, as though they had never been, and the thorn barrier exploded in a mass of flames. When the light died away again, a pathway to the throne stood clear and open. Jordan ran towards the throne, with Sir Gawaine close at his side. Unseen behind them, Taggert stumbled and almost fell as the last of her strength went out of her. Cord was quickly there at her side, beating back the Unreal with a cold, unyielding ferocity. Roderik gathered the guards together for one last desperate stand.
    Jordan sprinted down the narrow aisle Taggert had opened up in the barrier. He could hear the thorns stirring feebly, but kept his eyes fixed on the throne. He scrambled up on to the marble dais, and then