The stone net closed in, and several merpeople tried climbing over it. He anchored their bones to his wall and continued drawing everyone closer. Sweat tickled his brow and dribbled down his cheeks. This was harder than he’d expected, and there was no way he could keep all of them from escaping.
“Stop,” a high-pitched voice rang in his mind.
The mermaid was mostly nude, with long strands of red hair covering her firm breasts. Her pale blue face was long, with high, ruddy cheeks that came down sharply to her jutting chin. She had large eyes that were blue like ice and thin, pursed lips. While not nearly as attractive as Moyra, the sight of her brought back all those memories. The mermaid took several steps forward, and held Alloria up by the back of her neck.
“Face us in water, or we eat your mate,” she warned, sounding more nervous than brave.
He winced. It had been a while since Moyra had spoken to him in his head, and rarely so loudly. “Is she alive? Did you breathe for her?”
“I did,” she said. “Your hooman lives.”
“Kill them,” Ivan whispered loudly. “It’s the only way to save her.”
“We kill you first,” she said. “Hooman with two foci.”
“I won’t fight you.” He released the merpeople from his rocky net and returned the swords to his back.
Eight mermen and three mermaids approached on legs, each holding a wicked harpoon or long dagger, looking as vicious as sharks hungry to feed. The mermaid released Alloria and balled up her fists. The princess collapsed to the ground, hacking roughly. At least she was breathing.
“Why do you attack me, and mine?” Angst asked, holding out his hands.
“You are hooman who killed Moyra,” she said. “You will use Prendere to steal our water forever. You will kill us all.”
“Who told you that?” Angst asked, frowning. “I didn’t kill Moyra. I…I loved her.”
“What?” Alloria asked between gasps. Her glare was a mixture of hurt and fury.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Ivan said. Angst could almost hear the eye roll as the knight mockingly said, “I’m a lover, not a fighter.”
“But…you could not love her,” the mermaid said. “You killed her.”
“Moyra brought me deep, deep underwater, breathing for me the entire time,” he said. “It was the most frightening thing I’ve ever experienced. At any time, she could’ve let me die. But we trusted each other, and you should trust me like Moyra did.”
The mermaid looked perplexed, glancing at her party of soldiers. “How do we believe you?”
“She showed me her eggs,” he said. This struck a chord, and they all shared a curious look.
“The eggs are precious, are secret,” the mermaid said, looking around at the others. “She would not have shared this.”
“I thought she, uh…” His cheeks warmed, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “I thought she wanted me to mate.”
The merpeople all burst out in gurgly laughter that made his ears burn. Ivan was laughing too, which made it worse. This was a time for humility, and honesty, and not a time to bury everyone up to their necks. That would be bad, right?
“Moyra laughed at me too,” he said, taking a calming breath. “And then I learned about the curse. I learned how the men were locked in the mage city forever. I broke the curse.”
“No,” she gasped. “Our Moyra broke that curse, and then we attacked Unsel.”
“Were you there?” Angst asked. “Were you at Unsel during the battle where I fought the oldest living creature on Ehrde?”
“I hate that thing,” Ivan grumbled.
“We were all there,” she said. “We saw you destroy her.”
“What else did you see?” he asked.
“She pressed her lips against yours,” a merman said. “I thought she would eat you, but it was more like breathing for you.”
“Hoo…humans call that kissing,” Angst said. “We do it with people we love.”
“You kissed her?” Alloria roared.
“Alloria,” he snapped. “Tell them what it means to us.”
She shook with anger, standing beside the mermaid, and took several deep breaths. “It’s true. We kiss for love.”
“Then why did you kill her?” the mermaid asked.
“Water killed her,” he said, swallowing hard. “She did it because she hated me. Water blamed me for killing a human she loved and killed Moyra for revenge.”
“That sounds like Water,” she said.
“I didn’t kill her, but it was my fault,” he said, his voice catching. “I couldn’t save her. I destroyed Water, but that didn’t bring Moyra back. I’m sorry.”
He covered his face. It was one of his least favorite bandages to rip off. Moyra should’ve been alive, and free, and roaming the ocean not eating hoomans. Angst was running out of tears, but his heart hurt in a thousand different ways. To his surprise, cold hands grabbed his shoulders. She stared at him with those ice-blue eyes. He brushed her cool cheek with the back of his hand. She didn’t jerk away, or try to eat him, and sighed.
“I’m sorry I failed her,” he said in a strained voice.
“I believe you, hooman,” she said. “I sense your pain. It is the same as ours.”
“Now what do we do?” he asked, looking around at all of them.
“We talk,” she said, waving a hand into the air, “and eat.”
“Eat?” he asked, taking a cautious step back.
They all laughed again. It was less embarrassing this time. A little.
Two mermen and a mermaid leaped high into the air, their legs forming into tails as they dove back into the lake.
“I’m going to make the wall of stone go away,” he said. “I promise, I won’t attack anyone.”
She nodded, and he willed his net back into the ground.
“Ivan, please collect some firewood,” Angst said. “They’ll eat their fish raw, but we’ll need to cook ours.”
The mermaid and Alloria both looked at him as if he’d said something disgusting.
“You okay?” he asked the princess.
“No,” she grumbled.
“I promise,” the mermaid said, “we didn’t harm her.”
“I believe you,” he said. “Hi, my name is Angst.”
“Hi, An-gst,” she said. “I’m Lyda.”
“Why am I the one going to collect firewood?” Ivan asked.
“Because if you don’t,” Angst said, “I’m feeding you to the merpeople.”
“We are very hungry,” she said with a broad smile.
Ivan paled and scrambled off into the woods, making Lyda laugh.
“I’ll help,” Alloria grumbled, storming off into the woods in a different direction than Ivan.
Angst and Lyda sat cross-legged, knee to knee, as Ivan brought firewood and her people brought fish. A lot of fish. He told her everything about Moyra, from finding her in the trap to her death at the hands of Water. Despite the pain of those memories, Angst was grateful to tell their story. Few could understand their connection who wouldn’t judge it, so he’d kept it all in. Sharing it seemed to purge his heartache. She listened patiently, only interrupting when she didn’t understand.
A merman handed Lyda a bottle. She uncorked it and took a long draw that made Angst lick his lips.
With a curious smile, she offered it to him. “You may not like it,” she said. “It is strong.”
“My favorite,” he said, raising the bottle to toast.
The merpeople looked at each other quizzically as he sniffed, took a cautious sip, and smiled. He’d expected something salty, or fishy, and was surprised by the rich tang of oranges. He took several gulps before she gently pulled the bottle away with concern in her eyes. The bitter aftertaste made his lips purse. Raising a finger, he drank more.
“Beautiful,” Angst said as warmth spread through his body. His lips and the tip of his tongue were already numb. “You could get rich selling this stuff. What is it? Or, do I not want to know?”
“Aberbrou,” she said with a smile. Looking into his eyes, she took the bottle and drank.
They talked and feasted long into the night. He explained his plan, promising not to take away the water. Alloria came back from the woods a different Alloria, without wood, but happy. She spent most of her time sharing Angst’s bottle or flirting with a helpless merman.
“We came to kill you. Now what do we do?” Lyda asked. “If you had not taken up your swords, my people would still be prisoners in the mage city. If your plan works, they will remain trapped.”
“True,” he said, “but they’ll live until someone else lifts the curse.”
“How do you know it will work?” she asked.
“Because he’s my champion. He is the killer of dragons, destroyer of elements, strong enough to fight Death and win,” Alloria said, placing a hand on his shoulder.
They all looked at her. Angst was embarrassed but appreciated her encouragement.
“What?” she asked. “Angst can do anything.”
“No, he can’t,” Ivan said. “I’m told only an element can enter Prendere to make a wish.”
“Has an Al’eyrn ever tried?” Angst said, leaning against Alloria as the ground tilted. “Nope. You can hate me for that too.”
“I do not trust that one, An-gst,” Lyda said, darkly. “Moyra said hoomans are not food, but we could still eat him.”
“Ha,” Angst said. “I’m tempted to leave him, but he knows how to get there. Maybe just nibble around the edges?”
The merpeople thought this was pretty funny. Ivan apparently didn’t and stomped off to find more wood.
“I will talk to my people,” she said. “I will tell them I believe in you. Maybe they will help.”
“Thank you, Lyda,” Angst said with a broad smile.
“Tonight, we will stay with you, An-gst,” she said. “And tomorrow we will part as friends.”
“Good,” Angst said. “We should be friends. Hey, how much of that Aberbrou do you have?”
“A lot,” she said with a broad smile.
“I may have a favor to ask,” he said.
They continued talking late into the night about Angst’s adventures, and fish, and elements. Eventually, Angst lay down with a full stomach and settled conscience. Heroing wasn’t always bad.
30
“There,” Tarness cried out, pointing at a grove of enormous gray trees with his sword.
A piercing squawk barely gave him enough time to duck as Berfemmian talons raked the top of his bushy black hair. They wrapped around the blade of his broadsword and jerked it from his sweaty grip.
“My sword,” he said.
Jintorich shouted something in Acratic, and a beam of white light erupted from his staff, blasting the Angorian. She flew against a tree, dropping the weapon.
Tarness wanted to swing his obsidian stallion around and retrieve it, but a glance over his shoulder shocked some sense into him. Dozens of dark figures trailed them, inching closer with every racing breath.
“Faster,” Tarness shouted.
“This is faster,” Jintorich said.
“How can they keep up?” Tarness said, hunching closer to his swifen’s neck. “It’s not like they’re Al’eyrn.”
“Just about there,” Jintorich squeaked.
“And how will being there help us?” Tarness asked.
“The Mendahir don’t like Berfemmian,” Jintorich said. “I’m hoping they won’t follow.”
“You’re hoping?” Tarness said. “That’s pretty weak, Jin.”
His friend said nothing, and his mind raced for something other than hope to save them. The trees were large enough and thick enough to slow down the flying women, but they’d eventually have to slow down too. There was no way he could fight them off, and Jintorich had to be tired from pushing their swifen to run at this speed.
When the giant trees were several hundred yards away, Tarness braved another glance. To his surprise, the Berfemmains kept their distance. They hovered like a swarm of gnats—very loud gnats who screamed in frustration.
“Jin, you were right,” Tarness shouted. “You’re a genius.”
“I am one,” Jintorich said. “One of many.”
“That’s a lot of geniuses,” Tarness said. “I love all of them.”
Crossing the threshold of Grayhollow Forest was like entering another world. Not only did color wash away like caked-on dirt in a hot bath, but the dark Berfemmian refused to enter. Even though Jintorich was right, they continued at their breakneck pace until it became too hard to dodge trees.
When they finally stopped, Tarness had to let his pounding heart and gulping breaths calm before dismounting. The race had gone on for hours, and the abrupt end made him dizzy enough to sit down. He needed food, mead, a nap, more mead, and another nap.
“Wow,” Jintorich said.
“Yeah,” Tarness said. “A lot of wow. What do you think happened to them?”
The tiny Meldusian hadn’t been referring to the Berfemmian. He gawked at his colorless hands as if their frantic race to live had never happened.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this,” he squeaked, turning them over and squeezing tight. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Tarness said. The chase had left him exhausted, and the loss of color made him uneasy. He grabbed a loaf of bread from his satchel and tore out a large bite with his teeth. Nordruaut bread was as plain and hearty as those who made it. Not his favorite, but he was happy to be eating. He held out the loaf to Jintorich. “Wan sumb?”
“No thanks,” Jintorich said, looking around in wonder.
“What next?” Tarness asked around another mouthful.
“I believe I’m next,” a whispery voice said.
A sharp blue glow emanated from the forest flor, surrounded by vertical lines of white and blue light. Tarness swallowed hard as the Mendahir ghost appeared before them. He hadn’t seen the Mendahir Rise during his first visit to Grayhollow and had almost laughed when Angst recounted the story. Dallow had called them a phenomenon, like a rainbow. It had sounded unreal, and seemed unbelievable even now.
After rising from the ground like mist from a lake, the Mendahir solidified into a less translucent cloud. Tarness wasn’t in the habit of calling other men beautiful, but there it was. He was tall, thin, and had glowing blue eyes. Bright vapors around his face revealed a long nose, strong chin, and pointed ears. Tarness felt like bowing, which wasn’t possible from his sitting position. Without knowing what else to do, he reached out with the half-eaten chunk of bread.
The Mendahir leaned forward and took a deep breath as though trying to smell it. “I miss the satisfaction of eating,” he said. “Is Nordruaut bread as hearty as I remember?”
Tarness nodded and shoved the bread back in his satchel.
“What can I do for you, one of many?” he asked, turning to Jintorich.
“We seek your wisdom, great Kitecor,” Jintorich said, pointing at Tarness’s ring.
Tarness held up his hand for Kitecor to inspect. The Mendahir frowned in concentration, leaning over close to study the ruby ring.
“It is almost a foci,” he said, his voice like a distant breeze. “But not one of our creations.”
“Can you tell us how to remove it?” Tarness asked. “Please, uh, sir.”
Kitecor flicked it, his finger passing through Tarness’s hand, leaving behind a brief chill.
“We must seek counsel,” he said. “Follow me.”
Tarness scrambled to stand and rushed to follow the glowing apparition.
“You have strong magics, young wielder,” Kitecor said.
“I do?” Tarness asked. “Well, I guess I do, sometimes. It doesn’t always work when I want.”
“It could,” he said. “Jintorich, from where does this faux foci originate?”
“From the element Magic,” Jintorich said.
“That fool?” he said. “Then war is upon Ehrde once more. Or is it over? This would explain your
Angst bonding with two foci.”
“Over?” Tarness asked. “How do you not know?”
“We no longer belong to time,” he said. “Time now belongs to us.”
Tarness looked at Jintorich, who shrugged.
“For us, the war is now,” Jintorich explained. “And Magic is the last remaining element.”
Kitecor stopped and looked around. “No, he is not, or all would be lost to his chaos.”
Without further explanation, he pressed forward, leading them to a clearing. Four other Mendahir apparitions floated toward them, every bit as beautiful as Kitecor. Three women and one man smiled at them, so kindly that Tarness didn’t want to leave. Lights danced around his periphery. He pulled his gaze away and gasped.
“Uh, Jin?” he asked.
“I see,” Jintorich said. “More wow.”
“A lot more,” Tarness said.
The forest had become a city of trees. Some trees were homes, where children peeked out from high-arched doorways. Others were shops or libraries connected by long, pale branches that became a complex pathway of bridges. There were hundreds, maybe thousands of Mendahir floating from building to building. This city of supposed-to-be-dead was too much for Tarness to grasp, and he forced his eyes back to things that almost made sense.
“You’re becoming stronger,” Jintorich said.
“Angst was right,” Kitecor said. “Our return is nigh. Has he destroyed Ehrde yet? Or has he saved it?”
“That’s two futures, friend Kitecor,” Jintorich said.
“Angst has many to struggle with,” the Mendahir said. “What do you think of this, my sisters and brother?” Kitecor pointed at the ring, and Tarness raised his hand.
The four additional Mendahir took turns studying his ruby ring before circling to discuss. What must’ve been speech sounded like a choir to Tarness. It was eerily beautiful and hard to comprehend. When it finally stopped, his heart sank at the loss.
“Destroying the ring will invite Death to visit,” Kitecor finally said.
“Yup,” Tarness said. “We’ve seen that.”
“Have you tried removing the arm?” Kitecor asked.
Angst Box Set 2 Page 63
