Panicked, Darien fought the urge to run the horse to death. But doing so wouldn’t serve Azár, so he kept the lathered stallion alternating between a walk and a trot as they followed the road ever northward. It was still another ten or so miles before they would be clear of the vortex. And he had no idea how many of those miles Azár would last.
Darien clenched his fists in anxiety. Every minute, he felt his wife sinking lower and lower against his chest. It was a constant struggle to keep her sitting upright, keep her from slipping off the horse. Her eyes were closed, her face pale in the moonlight. He kept checking her pulse, unable to resist the compulsion. Every time he did, he was surprised to find her heart still beating. Dark blood saturated the front of her shirt. His arms were slick with it.
Darien started measuring the minutes in heartbeats, dreading the moment her pulse stopped. He felt certain that moment was coming. He didn’t have the power or the luck to stop the inevitable.
He rode on, gritting his teeth and holding his dying wife against his chest.
Eventually, the vortex above them thinned. Darien checked Azár’s pulse again. It was thready and rapid, almost too weak to feel. The magic field was still too hot to handle, but he couldn’t wait any longer.
Desperate, Darien pulled the horse up and slid off its back. Carrying Azár in his arms, he laid her out on the grass. He could feel the vortex still battering against the shield he’d thrown up to protect his mind from its raging torrent. It was weaker than it had been. He wasn’t sure if it was weak enough.
Regardless, he had to try.
Setting his hands on Azár’s chest, Darien opened his mind to the vortex. The raging cyclone of power tore through him, slamming into Azár. Every muscle in his body contracted at once, ripping a scream from his throat. He worked through the agony as fast as he could, as long as he could, throwing every effort of will into healing his wife and leaving nothing for himself.
Darien awoke hours later to the feeling of something shaking him, over and over. He groaned and shook his head, trying to rid himself of the sensation. It was more than irritating. But it continued, relentless.
“Husband!”
He gazed blearily into Azár’s face. She was leaning over him, fear widening her eyes. He didn’t know where he was, didn’t understand why she was there.
Then he remembered.
Rage filled him.
Darien scooted away from her and staggered to his feet, fighting waves of vertigo that almost took him to his knees. Azár reached out and tried to stabilize him, but Darien jerked away. He trudged forward a few steps, fighting to contain his fury.
“What is wrong?” Azár shouted at his back. “Are you angry?”
Darien brought his hands up to clutch his throbbing temples. “Yes, I’m angry!”
She stared at him. “Why are you angry?”
Her voice was suffused with hurt and confusion. She didn’t understand. How could she not understand? Her ignorance infuriated him all the more.
He whirled back to her. “Because you almost died!”
She stood her ground.
He moved forward and raged into her face, “Don’t you understand? I couldn’t heal you! The only thing I could do was watch you die!”
She gazed at him with mute understanding in her eyes. The look did something to him. His anger liquified, draining right out of him. He turned away.
He heard a quiet noise that sounded like a sob. Looking back, he saw that his fierce wife had tears in her eyes.
Confused, Darien gaped at her. “Why are you crying?”
She muttered something in a voice too soft to hear.
“What?”
Softly, she said, “Thank you.”
Darien shook his head, baffled by her answer. “Thank you for what?”
Her eyes glistening, Azár whispered, “Thank you for caring.”
It was too much. Her words tore him wide open.
He lifted Azár and lay her down on the dew-wet grass, then collapsed on top of her. His lips scoured her face, her neck, her chest. Her body moved beneath him, her lips seeking his. She wrapped her legs around him.
For one brief moment, the entire world paused and held its breath.
7
The Good Mage
They left Creek Hollow as the pre-dawn light just barely grayed the eastern horizon. The town was silent and still, its shadowed streets haunted by absence. Kyel’s eyes roamed the side of the road nervously as they slipped out the gate. He hadn’t liked the feel of the place the previous night. He liked it even less the next day.
There was no sign of the serving girl, for which he was grateful. He hadn’t mentioned his agreement with her to Cadmus. Part of him hoped they could slip out of town ahead of her. In the fresh light of morning, he found himself doubting her story. But another part of him hoped she’d catch up. He wanted to believe her. It had been a long time since he’d met a sincerely good person. He wanted very badly for her to be as nice as she seemed.
As they rounded a switchback in the trail that led down from the ridge, he heard hoofbeats. Turning, he saw a dark horse trotting toward them up the slope, the girl on its back, her hood pulled up and cloak flapping.
Cadmus took one look at the girl then shook a finger at Kyel. “No, no, no! I told you we don’t have time to take in strays. Now send her back where she came from!”
The girl reined in, a troubled frown on her face as her eyes flicked back and forth between the two of them. Exasperated, Kyel let out a heaving sigh. He’d known it would come to an argument. Only, this argument he intended to win. He was getting tired of being led around by the nose.
“I told her she could come,” he stated firmly.
Cadmus snorted. “Then you can tell her she can go.”
“No.” Kyel felt his temper heating. “I gave my word we’d take her with us as far as Amberlie. I’m not going back on my word.”
Cadmus gave a loud harumph and turned to the girl. “What did you tell him? That your husband beats you? You’re running away from an arranged marriage? Whichever, it must have been convincing. You play the victim well.”
The girl glanced at Kyel with hurt in her eyes.
“She’s pregnant,” Kyel snapped. “And her life—and the child’s life—are in danger. She’s coming with us.”
Cadmus chortled. “And what do we do when her family comes tracking us down? Or do you think they’re just going to let her go? The last thing we need is a herd of fools with bent noses chasing after us.”
“That won’t be a problem.”
“Oh, it won’t? How exactly do you plan to deter them?”
Kyel glared at him. Then he reached down and patted Thar’gon’s haft. “With this.”
The cleric lifted a skeptical eyebrow. “What about your Oath of Harmony?”
“I’m a Sentinel.” Kyel shrugged. “There’s a hell of a lot I can do without breaking Oath.”
Cadmus stared hard at him for a long moment, a world of skepticism in his eyes. Then he blew out a loud snort. “Let’s hope so, boy. For our sake. And the world’s.”
“I’m not a boy,” Kyel growled at him. “And I’m getting sick of being treated like one. You’re not even a priest—all you are is a mouthpiece. So tell His Eminence from now on, I’ll be taking his advice under consideration, and not the other way around.”
Red-faced, Cadmus glared at him. Then he wheeled his horse around, kicking it forward down the path. Kyel watched him bump along, jolting in his saddle as his stirrups flapped in time to his horse’s strides.
He glanced at the girl in apology.
They rode in silence through the grove as the day dawned overhead. The chatter of birdsong filled the forest, a sound Kyel had all but forgotten during his long months in the Pass. The girl’s horse plodded along behind his own, fully content to follow. She had to give it a few good kicks to make it move forward alongside his gelding.
“I’m sorry I upset your friend,” she said in a lowered tone.
“He’s not my friend. So don’t worry.” Kyel glared ahead at Cadmus.
The girl found her shy smile. “My name is Alexa. Alexa Newell.”
“Kyel Archer.”
Her eyebrows pinched together in a frown of confusion. “You have a longer name than that, don’t you? Being a mage, and all?”
Kyel shrugged. “I have a title. But I don’t like to use it.” Feeling awkward, he cast his gaze back down at the road.
“Thank you for helping me, Kyel,” she said after a moment. “I was right. You really are a good mage.”
He managed a wan smile. “Well, I’m not a very good mage. But I’d like to think I’m a good person.”
She brightened at that, gifting him with a smile that eclipsed the daylight. He couldn’t help grinning back. It had been a long time since he’d been able to make a girl smile like that.
“What is that?” She pointed at the silver morning star affixed to his saddle.
“Oh, this?” He drew Thar’gon from its saddle holster, holding it up for her to see. “It’s my weapon.”
Alexa’s brow furrowed. “I thought mages didn’t carry weapons.”
Feeling deflated, Kyel hung Thar’gon back in place. “Well, it’s more like a talisman.”
“A talisman? What does it do?” She sat up straight, her eyes teeming with interest.
It was the one question he’d rather she hadn’t asked. “I haven’t actually figured it out,” he admitted. “I just came by it recently and haven’t had a lot of time to fiddle with it.”
She stared at him flatly for a moment, then turned back to the road. They rode in silence for a while. After uncomfortable minutes, Kyel glanced at Alexa and caught her staring at him. She looked away quickly. Suddenly self-conscious, he searched for something to say. The only line of conversation that came to mind was the obvious.
“I don’t mean to pry,” he said, “but I’d appreciate you telling me more about your … situation.”
“My situation?” She looked at him with confusion on her face.
Embarrassed, Kyel motioned toward her middle. “You know … your…”
“Oh….” Slow realization seeped onto her face. Her eyes slipped to the side, and she looked lost in thought. “There was a man who passed through town. We took a liking to each other. He said he’d take me with him, but he didn’t. He left in the night and didn’t come back for me.”
Kyel frowned. “And what about your father?”
She pressed a finger against her lips, as if mired in deep thought. “That’s just the kind of man he is. Merciless. Heartless. He has no soul….” Her voice trailed off into silence.
Ahead of them, Cadmus had drawn his horse up. When they neared, he threw a glowering stare their way. “If you two lovebirds would stop yammering for a moment, we might be able to hear if anyone’s following us.”
Kyel scowled, knowing the cleric was right, but nevertheless hating to admit it.
After that, they rode in silence for long hours as the gloom of the woodland creeped over them. The canopy thickened, becoming crowded by maple and birch. The grove darkened, the smell of pine replaced by the musty-damp scent of moss and detritus. All around, an eerie silence descended around them, disturbed only by the plodding of hoofbeats and the distant, trickling sounds of water.
Kyel breathed in the cold, moist air, for once wishing he’d worn his cloak. His stomach rumbled, reminding him he’d skipped breakfast. Clucking to his horse, he angled it off the road in the direction of a moss-encrusted tree that had fallen over at an angle.
“Where, pray tell, are you going?” Cadmus called at his back.
“I’m going to eat.”
Ignoring the sounds of grumbling behind him, Kyel swung off his horse and tethered it to a branch. He snatched up his saddle bags then turned—
—to find himself standing nose-to-nose with Alexa. He jerked back, reflexively reaching for the magic field. He hadn’t heard her coming up behind him. He held onto the field tighter as he fought to calm his racing pulse.
“How did you…” he shook his head. Staring into her doll-like face, his thoughts melted and oozed away. He let go of the field, allowing it to seep out of him slowly. He took a step back, staring questioningly into her face.
“Aren’t you hungry?” she asked.
Before he could respond, she reached into her pack and removed a small burlap sack. With an angelic smile, she produced two apples, offering one to Kyel in her open palm. He accepted the apple and, lifting it to his mouth, took a bite. It was perfectly crisp and ripe, perhaps the best apple he’d ever had.
“It’s delicious,” he said, taking another crunching bite.
She smiled at him dearly, but instead of eating the fruit in her hand, she tucked it back away in the sack. She stood watching him with a smile on her face while Kyel finished his apple, core and all. He took a swig from his water skin and, looking up, saw her smiling at him.
Cadmus grimaced his disapproval. Turning away, he called over his shoulder, “I’m going to go find a tall bush. Don’t do anything that’ll get her more pregnant.”
Kyel could feel himself blushing. As Cadmus’ heavy footsteps retreated into the forest, he hurried toward his horse. He rifled through his saddlebags in a clumsy attempt to keep Alexa from seeing his heated cheeks. He dug his hand around, trying to find just one possession he could use to justify his action.
He felt a hand on his shoulder. He froze, uncertain what to do. He wasn’t sure what to say to a pretty girl whose smile lit up the day. He turned toward her—
—and was flung backward, the forest exploding in dazzling brilliance. His body slapped hard against the ground. Kyel cried out, his mind reflexively scrambling for the magic field. He caught ahold of it and used all eleven tiers of power to strike back against the threat. Opening his eyes, he blinked against an overwhelming light that dazzled his senses. He wiped his eyes, struggling to clear his vision, then looked around.
Alexa lay on the ground in front of him, unmoving. Kyel froze halfway between breaths. Time stopped. Everything stopped.
She’s dead.
Then: I killed her…
He scrambled forward to the girl’s side, reaching out—
—another brilliant burst of light lifted him up and threw him backward. Kyel reached for Thar’gon, his hand closing on the haft—
His vision cleared. Time lurched forward. The dazzling whiteness fell away. Kyel stood up, wielding the talisman over his head as his adversary came into focus.
He gasped. Then he swung.
Thar’gon’s magical strike threw the dead man away from him. Kyel swept the talisman back in an arc, repulsing the remainder of the dead things that surrounded him. Limbs flew, and corpses tumbled in a rain of decayed body parts. He felt the energy released by the morning star, an incredible surge of force. It was indomitable, unfathomable. Nothing could survive that.
But something did.
One of the corpses started crawling toward him, clawing itself over the ground, dragging the snaking ropes of its entrails behind it. Repulsed, Kyel leveled the talisman at the thing, watching it burst into pieces that showered gore all over the forest bracken.
He stood quivering, panting, his eyes ticking over the grisly scene. When he was sure the rest of the dead weren’t going to get up again, he scrambled back to Alexa’s side.
She was alive, but barely. He healed her injuries expertly, instantly, sucking glorious power through the talisman. He didn’t have to think about what he was doing. It was as though Thar’gon sensed his need and acted of its own accord, using him as a mere conduit. When Kyel opened his eyes, Alexa lay sleeping on a bed of ferns, her head cradled in his lap. He dropped the morning star, gazing around with wide and horrified eyes.
They were surrounded by corpses and parts of corpses. He’d killed them all.
Crying out, Kyel raked back his shirtsleeve. The chain of his Oath was still intact. He looked around, taking in scattered body parts. H
e hadn’t killed them, he decided. They weren’t alive. He let out a deep, relieved, sigh.
He hadn’t broken Oath.
8
No Mercy
Darien climbed onto his horse and, wrapping an arm around Azár, sent the animal forward at a walk, wading knee-deep through the prairie’s tall grass.
To the east, the sun broke over the mountains, streaking the sky with lines of gold. Sunrise had once been his favorite time of day. The hues of the colors were different: warmer, rarer. But he could no longer take comfort in the wakening sky. Not since Orien’s Finger, when he had immolated thousands and shattered the break of dawn. Now the sunrise, like everything else, was ruined for him.
“My father,” he said softly, turning his face away from the sun’s reproving glare.
“What?” Azár glanced back at him.
“When we first met, you asked me what I was thinking about the moment I died.” He felt her body stiffen against his. The breeze chased dark strands of her hair. “I was thinking of my father.”
A long silence followed his words. Darien’s stare remained fixed on the sprawling prairie ahead. He remembered this place. Somewhere close by was the shrine he had entered with Naia, the one that contained an entrance to the Catacombs. There, somewhere deep in those warrens, was the chamber of souls where he’d encountered his father’s spirit. Darien knew he would never see him again. His own soul was destined for a different place.
He tightened his grip around Azár, pulling her closer. He savored the scent of her hair, knowing that he didn’t have much time left with her. Very soon, he’d be losing her too.
Forever.
She said, “Tell me about your father.”
Her words yanked him out of his thoughts. “His name was Gerald. He was a good Sentinel. And a great man.”
Her hand found his, stroking it tenderly. “What is your best memory of him?”
Darien thumbed through his recollections, searching for the right one. Eventually, he found it. “It was the day I passed Consideration. When I became an acolyte. Instead of taking me directly up the mountain, my father led me out into the forest near Amberlie. We walked until we found a stream, then we sat down on the rocks beside it. That’s all we did. For hours. We didn’t talk. He never said a word to me, but I sensed he was sad. I didn’t understand why at the time. Now I do. I’d never want a son of mine to follow my path.”
The Complete Rhenwars Saga: An Epic Fantasy Pentalogy Page 118
