“Why?” Angst asked, returning his disgruntled foci to his back. “Why this? Why Ivan?”
“To throw you off,” Alloria said. “He’s been taking different forms from the beginning. A Fulk’han woman. A—”
“Bitch,” Magic shouted, raising a clawed hand that seemed to be sucking in dark shadowy bubbles like a sponge.
“No,” Angst said warningly. He drew Chryslaenor and pressed the tip to Magic’s forehead. For a brief moment, his swords were happy again. “I may not kill you, but I can make things very uncomfortable.”
“Whatever,” Magic said, lowering his hand and pulling away.
“Why do you hate humans so much?” Angst asked.
“Because you’re a virus,” Magic said, his voice seething with hatred. “You get in the way and make it harder to fight our war. And then this happened… You happened. We’ve always worried there would be an aberration, that the virus would be too much for us to handle. We should have rid ourselves of you long ago, but the Vivek likes humans, so there are rules.”
Angst was going to sheath Chryslaenor but thought better of it and gently thunked Magic on the forehead instead. The element yelped, and Alloria barked out a laugh. He returned the blade to his back.
“Since we aren’t allowed to completely wipe out the human race, we use them like tools,” Magic said, rubbing his forehead. “They always fought back, but it never seemed to go their way. Two thousand years ago, it came dangerously close. The Mendahir created foci that made wielders more powerful than ever. Those wielders created mage cities with protections that made it impossible for us to enter.”
“That’s why you were thrown back from the wall,” Angst said.
“Clever human,” Magic said, rolling his eyes.
“If the mage cities kept wielders safe from the elements,” Angst began. “Why are they gone?”
“He cursed them,” Alloria said.
They both looked at her in surprise.
“What?” she asked, tugging at a lock of hair. “He talks a lot.”
“She’s right,” Magic said with a smirk. “I sank Azaktrha and trapped the mermen. I had Fire send dragons after Gressmore. I cast a spell that would slowly kill anyone returning to the Nordruaut mage city Enurthen.”
“I can’t wait to kill you,” Angst said, licking his lips. “What did you do here?”
“Why would I tell you?” Magic spat.
“If I don’t survive, no foci, and no prize,” Angst said. “And you’re too proud not to boast.”
“Good points,” he said with a malicious grin. “This was one of my favorites. After millennia of experimenting on humans, I have come to realize that you’re all slightly unhinged. Some far more than others. But you also need your crazy. You can’t live without that tenuous balance. I don’t completely understand, but I accept it for whatever it is. This weakness inspired the perfect curse.”
“You’re boring me,” Angst said. “Get to it.”
“Everyone who enters Gyldorane is immediately shadowed,” Magic said with a broad grin.
“You mean followed?” Angst asked.
“In a way,” Magic said. “The moment you enter, a shade of yourself will begin to form. With every passing hour, a bit of your sanity will leak out, strengthening that shade until it’s saner than you are. And then it kills you.”
“So everyone murdered themselves.” Angst shook his head.
“More or less,” Magic said.
“Why is he just telling us?” Alloria asked, tugging on his cloak. “I don’t trust him.”
“Magic wants us to be prepared,” Angst said. “He needs us to live long enough to escape with the foci. Neither of us can get into the light without it.”
“So you believe him?” she asked, her lip quivering. “How will we survive?”
“He’s hoping my foci protects me,” Angst said, staring at Magic for any sign of disagreement. “And I’m sorry, Alloria, but you’re already a bag of squirrels.”
“Thanks,” she said, sticking out her tongue. She sighed deeply. “I like squirrels.”
Angst couldn’t help but chuckle.
“She’ll be better off than you are,” Magic said, standing up and brushing himself off.
“Probably,” Angst said. “But she’s right. That was too quick, too honest. What aren’t you telling us?”
Magic waved his arm in a vertical circle that twisted color and light until it formed a shadowy portal. “I’ll be here when you escape,” Magic said, disappearing through the dark window. “If you escape.”
The portal was gone with a pop, and they were alone.
“What next?” Angst asked. “And how do we get in?”
Alloria reached between branches, deep to her shoulder, sticking out her tongue in concentration. Her eyes went wide, and she grabbed at him with her free hand.
“Help,” she said. “Angst, something’s got me.”
Angst wrapped his arms around her and gently pulled. Her arm freed immediately and seemed completely unharmed. He turned his head to look at her in confusion.
“My champion,” she said, planting a kiss on his mouth.
He tried taking a step away, but his back was against jungle wall. She clung to him like an octopus and planted her lips on his. He didn’t want to beat her away. She was kissing him, and Angst didn’t have it in him to be mean to a beautiful woman kissing him.
Angst tried pushing and took a step back, and then another. He opened his mouth to admonish but was immediately accosted by tongue. His useless mumbling was overwhelmed by her moaning, which made his cheeks flush hot. She bit his tongue and giggled as she reached for his crotch.
“Alloria,” he shouted, practically dancing backward.
Leaves brushed his ears and vines tickled his arms as he tried cowering into the blanket of jungle.
“This armor isn’t exactly easy to get off, is it?” she asked, grabbing a handful of steel.
“Stop,” he said, trying harder than ever to move away. “I warned you. We aren’t going to do this. I’ll make you stop.”
“You don’t want me to stop. You love this,” she said, squeezing tighter with her octopus arms and legs. “Give me one kiss, and I’ll leave be, for now. Just one, Angst.”
She went in for the kill, and he relaxed his face enough to barely kiss her back. Those full lips pressed against his were intoxicatingly delicious, and for the briefest moment, he was drawn into her hunger. His heart raced like a teenager’s. She was so filled with passion that he just wanted to throw her to the ground and…and… It took a moment to come to his senses and un-suction himself from her.
“Thank you for finally kissing me,” she said, releasing him from her grasp. Alloria wiped off her mouth. There was a faint blush on her cheeks, and she was gasping for breath. “Good job.”
“Oh, uh,” Angst said, his ears now burning too. He looked down, scratching the back of his sweaty neck. “You’re, uh, good at kissing too.”
She burst out in laughter, which did absolutely nothing for his confidence.
“This is exactly why I love you,” she said. “Your kiss was nice, but I meant for getting us here.”
“Here?” Angst asked.
Alloria swept her hand in a wide arc that presented the city before them. “Welcome to Gyldorane.”
33
Tarness stopped screaming five minutes after the Mendahir sent them on their way. Jintorich’s request for a portal had turned into something else entirely. Rather than magically appearing somewhere, an invisible harness jerked them through Ehrde at an unfathomable speed. The first tree they passed through made Jintorich cheer and Tarness panic. The ride became less fun when they suddenly dove underwater before shooting straight up the side of a mountain. Hither and fro were apparently directions as they were roughly sent down both paths. It was like a complex labyrinth of invisible highways that only the Mendahir knew about. Riding a wild, bucking horse down the side of a cliff would’ve been a better time.
Tarness’s stomach had either been left behind or just given up. He had given up, with the understanding that he was dead and being punished for his transgressions.
“If we make it out of this, Jin,” Tarness said, “I swear I’ll tell the truth from now on.”
“Me tooooo,” Jintorich squealed.
After too long, they were spun around like a bolo until slowing to a halt. Their tethers released with an audible pop and both men collapsed to the forest floor.
“It’s an attack,” Bryymel said, leaping back and grabbing for the two sturdy axes at his waist.
“Not a very good one,” Maarja said. “Husband? Jintorich? What is this?”
Tarness could only moan and wait for the world to stop spinning. He hadn’t felt like this since his first night drinking with Angst. Maarja gently patted his shoulder, and he rolled to his side to see Jintorich leap from the ground.
“That was fantastic,” the Meldusian shouted, raising a fist in the air.
“What was fantastic?” Rasaol asked with a growl.
“Did you learn how to create a portal?” Maarja asked, warily. “I didn’t realize you had the power.”
“No, my friend,” Jintorich said, calming a bit. “It was the Mendahir.”
“The Mendahir?” Rasaol asked. “They were ended long ago.”
“No, not entirely,” Maarja said. “A story I have not yet shared. Mendahir still appear as ghosts in Grayhollow. I faced them on my return trip to Nordruaut with Angst and Jintorich. They were going to kill me, along with that Berfemmian, for our people’s parts in their deaths. They accepted our apology and asked that we leave. I do not remember them offering to make portals like elements or Al’eyrn.”
“It was so much more than a portal,” Jintorich said, his ears pointed in excitement.
As Jin went on to explain their wild ride, Tarness’s brain finally caught up to his body. He sat as best he could in armor and looked around. Dusk had fallen on the Nordruaut camp, and distant fires dotted his vision. Maarja and the others around this small fire had just finished roasting a large buck. The delicious smell made his mouth water, even if his stomach hadn’t completely forgiven him yet. They’d undoubtedly make amends soon.
There was also tension around the campfire, as if he’d accidentally walked in on his parents arguing. Rasaol and Gose were aggressively questioning Jintorich, while Maarja stood on and watched. She didn’t defend Jin or show any affection to Tarness. Bryymel and Niihlu ignored the inquisition, staring at Tarness with hands on their weapons.
He stood, brushed himself off, and approached the feast. Tarness grabbed a bone, pulled off a chunk of meat and offered Jintorich a bite. The Meldusian shook his head, his tall eyebrows furrowed with concern.
“Mmmm,” Tarness said, chewing the bland meat slowly. He choked it down, approached Niihlu, and nodded at the flask in his hand.
Niihlu threw it to the ground and kicked it over. With a calming breath, Tarness lifted it and took a draw. His stomach flinched at the bitter ale, but he could manage. After that ride, he could probably handle anything.
“You don’t all usually camp together,” Tarness said, pointing at them with the venison. He hurriedly took another bite. Who knew how this would go down, and they appeared unlikely to share more food. “What is this?”
“Rasaol and Niihlu have told us you are a servant of Magic,” Maarja said. “I don’t believe them, but…” She glanced at his ring.
Tarness swallowed hard. He had hoped to explain everything to his wife in private, assuming the ring would let him. She deserved to understand why he’d done what he had before telling the others.
“We just need your story, brother,” Gose said.
“I—” His words instantly cut off as the ring burned his finger. Nothing came out of his mouth, and he shook with rage.
“He cannot speak what is on his mind,” Jintorich said, glancing at Tarness. “But if I may? Tarness and his friends discovered a mage city in Nordruaut. They were stuck in a blizzard with no way in until friend Dallow created an entrance. It was small, and just enough for Tarness to throw them through to safety before the doorway closed. As Tarness was dying in the cold, Magic appeared and offered him that ring for his life.”
Tarness gasped for breath. Whatever trap had locked his jaw and frozen his tongue was suddenly gone. The anger and power seeping from him were quickly replaced with guilt.
“I can talk, Jin,” he said.
“Then talk, my friend,” Jintorich said. “Hurry.”
“I took it to help Angst,” Tarness said, staring at Maarja.
“I believe this,” Maarja said, her downcast eyes briefly glancing up to his.
“Jintorich has been trying to help me remove it without success,” Tarness said. “That’s why we sought out the Mendahir.”
“They couldn’t do anything,” Jintorich said, defeat heavy in his voice.
“So you remain a servant of Magic,” Rasaol said coldly. “You were almost dead from cold when we took you in. We would have killed you had we known.”
“We still should,” Niihlu said, wielding Ghorfjend.
“I would suggest standing down, friend Nordruaut,” Jintorich said, his tiny staff glowing brightly.
“I have two foci, little man,” Niihlu said.
“I only need one,” Jintorich said, crouching low to the ground.
“Wait, there’s more,” Tarness said. He wasn’t the only one working with Magic. The element had delivered him to Rasaol and brought Jarle’s body to them. If it was the time for truth, they should hear everything. “Let’s put all the dice on the table. I… I…” His jaw locked in place as the familiar burn of the ring returned. It was as if Magic knew exactly when to stop him from speaking. He looked around desperately from Jintorich to Maarja and finally Bryymel. The short, bald Nordruaut stared at him malevolently. All he could say was, “No.”
“Yes,” Bryymel said. “King Rasaol, please tell everyone what you told me.”
“Tarness killed Jarle,” Rasaol said, his voice as cold and dead as Jarle’s body.
“No,” Maarja wailed.
“Is…is this true?” Jintorich asked, his large blue eyes were wider than ever.
“I think so, yes,” Tarness said, “but…”
Maarja’s fist moved so fast and struck with such force that everything went dark before Tarness hit the ground.
34
After two minutes of Jaden and Dallow arguing, Rose’s snarky chiding, and Captain Mirim’s tired glances, Victoria decided it was time.
“Rose and I are going to scout the area,” she said.
“We are?” Rose asked.
“Is that wise?” Mirim asked. “I would be more than happy to join you.”
“I will soon be Queen of Unsel,” Victoria said, coolly. “So it is wise.”
“Oh,” Mirim said, her eyebrows raised. “Yes, Your Highness.”
“Nikkola, if Jaden or Dallow say anything insulting to each other,” Victoria said as she summoned her swifen, “I would like you to blast them both.”
“Okay,” Nikkola said. Her hands turned black, and bubbles of dark power floated around them.
“Simon,” Victoria said, sweetly, “be a dear and heal them so she can do it again.”
“Gladly.” Simon bowed to her and smiled.
Dallow and Jaden stared at her in surprise. Jaden was about to say something, but Dallow shook his head and nodded toward Nikkola.
“Come along, Rose,” Victoria said. “This won’t take long.”
“What are we doing again?” Rose asked, mounting her red sapling buck.
“Girl stuff,” Victoria said.
“Ugh,” Rose said. “As long as I don’t have to brush your hair.”
Having seen the clearing on the way to the mage city entrance, Victoria led them across enormous vines. She took deep, calming breaths while Rose whined and prattled on like they were sisters—venting about lousy food, sweaty jungles, dumb boys, and her sore back.
“What’s this?” Rose asked.
“I took much of what my mother taught me for granted, but I always listened,” Victoria said. “You see, she wasn’t always a nice person, or even a good mom, but she was a great queen.”
“She wasn’t my favorite,” Rose said, dismounting at the opposite side of the clearing. “But, now that she’s dead, it doesn’t matter anymore. What’s your point?”
The dig was easy to dismiss. After this trip, Victoria was numb to Rose’s barbed tongue. She smiled calmly at the young redhead, and Rose flushed.
“Our queen taught me that subjects either lead, follow, or are dealt with. The leaders become needed advisers and champions of Unsel. The followers become patriots,” she said. “I’m here to deal with you.”
“Oh,” Rose said, fondling the daggers on her hips. “And how do you propose to deal with me?”
“A duel, you and me,” Victoria said, brandishing her sword and setting the tip on the ground, directly before her foot. “Everything on the table. If I win, you go home—or wherever you want—and leave your daggers behind.”
“And when I win?” Rose asked.
“What do you want?” Victoria asked.
“I get to decide what we do with Angst,” Rose said. “And you renounce your throne.”
“Oh, is that how we’re playing it?” Victoria asked, holding that fruit close. She drew her sword, and her voice became dark and cold. “Let’s go.”
Rose didn’t go, or come, or blur toward her. She stared at Victoria, her jaw agape and hands shaking.
“This is a trick,” Rose said. “You know the future, but I’m Al’eyrn. You can’t beat me.”
“I’m waiting,” Victoria said. She crouched slightly, set the tip of her blade on the ground, and extended her free arm behind her back to balance.
Angst Box Set 2 Page 65
