by Todd Herzman
‘Slacking off, Marius?’
Marius jumped up and turned to see Peiter standing behind him, hands wrapped up in the sleeves of his robe. The monk chuckled. He seemed in good spirits.
‘You’re awake?’
The monk took a deep breath, then let it out. ‘Ah, well. I could not sleep the entire day away. It is good to see them up and about.’
Marius followed Peiter’s gaze to find the three who’d been healed. ‘How did you heal them?’
‘Practice.’ Peiter smiled. ‘And a little bit of magic.’
Marius blinked, surprised Peiter hadn’t answered the question with a question as he often did. ‘Practice? So, it’s something people can learn?’
The monk cocked his head, still watching Hishem and the others. ‘It can be taught. It can be learnt. But not everyone can teach it, and not everyone can learn it.’
‘Could I learn it?’
Peiter looked down at him. ‘Perhaps, but the life of a monk is not for everyone.’ Peiter stepped forward, walking past Marius to the wreckage. Only a few people were left working on the tavern today. It was slow going, and there were more important things to be done.
‘Come forward, please.’ The monk addressed the five left working. They looked up, then exchanged glances. They hesitated but did as Peiter asked. Some crossed their arms, others—like Hishem—gazed at the monk reverently. ‘Stand behind me.’
Peiter faced the tavern. Marius wondered what he was up to. The monk took his hands out of his sleeves, held them at his side. His hands tensed, grasping the air. He brought them up, palms facing the half-built tavern.
The post Hishem had been hammering thrust straight into the ground. Peiter waved his arms. A second post rose from the pile beside the tavern, flew through the air, and thrust itself into the earth.
The group behind the monk backed away. Marius stepped forward, until he stood beside Peiter. Things moved faster and faster, whipping through the air—planks, one after the other, were laid on the ground to create a floor, nails rose from a bucket, flew in an arc, then shot into joinings. Massive logs that had been felled and dragged from the forest formed the tavern walls. Peiter’s body shook, his hands vibrated. His eyes narrowed, forehead lined as sweat dripped down the side of his face.
Marius had never seen anything like it. Just as Peiter had healed broken legs and wounds, so did he heal the tavern. By the time the monk had finished, and the tavern stood—looking better than before the fire had claimed it—a crowd of villagers had gathered. Many looked at the monk in fear, others in awe—some, like Billem and Redic, looked at him with both.
Peiter dropped his arms. He collapsed and knelt on the ground, as if the magic had been holding him up and now that he’d let it go, it let him go. His breath came sharp and shallow.
Marius looked around, then approached the monk. He wasn’t the only one to come to Peiter’s aid. Hishem, Karli, and Decius were there too. They seemed the least frightened of the monk’s power, as they’d experienced—and been blessed by—the man’s magic before.
‘Are you alright?’ Marius offered Peiter a hand.
Peiter, still kneeling, smiled at Marius. He took the boy’s hand and stood—though he didn’t seem to need it, barely letting Marius take any weight. ‘I am fine.’ He squeezed Marius’s hand. ‘A little drained, but… nothing a short walk will not cure.’
The other villagers stood a ways back from the monk. They looked from the newly rebuilt tavern to the Tahali monk who had magicked it into being.
Hishem and the others the monk had healed shook Peiter’s hand and gave him thanks. The remaining villagers were apprehensive at first, but soon followed in Hishem’s example. The monk stood, tired lines on his face, smiling warmly as each villager thanked him. When the villagers had finished, they peered inside the tavern, entering one by one to inspect the monk’s miracle.
‘Aren’t you going inside?’ Marius asked. He and Peiter were the only two left standing in the village square.
Peiter shook his head. ‘It is not for me to celebrate. You are welcome to join them.’ He motioned to the tavern door.
Marius looked inside. It was a miracle, what the monk had done. The townsfolk—despite the recent tragedy—seemed happy. The tavern wasn’t just a place to drink, it was a place to gather as a community. Somewhere warm and inviting. To have it back… Marius could understand why some of them were happy, but he didn’t want to go inside.
‘Or, you are welcome to join me on my walk.’ Peiter turned in the direction of the forest, stopping to see if Marius was coming along.
Marius bobbed his head and walked beside the monk.
As they left the village square, they passed more burned-out houses abandoned after the raid. But they passed some that had been fixed up, too. Not every building had been hit as hard as the tavern. These houses were smaller, easier to fix. Still, Marius wondered if the worst hit would ever be rebuilt. There were no longer enough people to fit in every house. It didn’t seem worth fixing them all, not when there was other work to be done.
‘How did you do that?’ Marius asked, the question burning inside of him since it had happened.
Peiter glanced at him sideways, raising a single eyebrow. ‘Took you longer to ask today.’ He looked forward. His steps became surer the farther they walked. ‘I did that the same way I healed the others.’
Marius sighed. ‘With practice?’
The monk smiled. ‘Indeed. With practice.’
They were nearing Marius’s home—Marius’s old home. Eldridge and his family still lived there. He could see the tree line beyond. He hadn’t been back in the forest since he’d run from his home when he’d found Eldridge’s family inside of it. He didn’t know if he wanted to go there today, but the monk didn’t slow his stride as they entered the field.
‘If you can do all those things—heal the sick, move things with your mind…’ Marius swallowed. He looked at his feet as they walked. ‘Do you think you could fight a blood mage?’
Peiter stopped in the middle of the field. His robes swayed in the wind. He stared straight ahead. ‘Tahali monks do not fight. We swear an oath to carry peace in our hearts for the rest of our days.’ Peiter’s words were cold, abrupt. His eyes turned on Marius, his expression softening. ‘I am sorry, Marius. But I cannot—will not—harm another being. It goes against everything I believe.’
The monk walked on. Marius stayed in the middle of the field. Peiter entered the forest, no longer seeming tired—somehow recovered from his feat of rebuilding the tavern.
All that power. All that strength. The things the monk could do, and Peiter didn’t want to help him. Marius wanted to be angry at the monk, like he was angry at his brother for walking into danger, at his sister for leaving him behind, but he’d run out of anger.
He looked back at the village. He couldn’t see the tavern from where he stood, but he knew most everyone would be in it by now. He didn’t want to join them. His home no longer felt like home anymore, his village no longer his village. His mother and father were gone. His brother and sister too. There didn’t seem to be anything left for him here.
Marius ran into the forest to catch up with the monk.
Chapter 16
Ruben
Ruben stared at his hands. He closed his eyes, breathed in, tapped the power inside, then opened his eyes again.
His hands were on fire. He stood in front of the cell bars, grinning at the flames. Somehow, they didn’t burn him. It had been a few days since he’d discovered his powers, and they were already easier to use.
He gripped the iron lock on his cell door with both hands. Ruben knew from smithing that fire had to burn hot, real hot, for it to melt metal. He didn’t know if the flames he held in his hands would be enough to melt the lock. He doubted they would be, a normal flame wouldn’t be enough.
Then again, he thought, smiling, these are no normal flames.
Holding the lock, he closed h
is eyes. He brought his mind to the forge in his smithy back home. He focused on the heat as he remembered it, on the melting of the metal, and brought the energy he felt inside into his hands.
He felt the heat on his face. He opened his eyes again. The flames rose high, licking his cheeks, his hair. They were close enough to burn him, yet all he felt was their heat—heat he’d grown accustomed to over the years.
The lock glowed red. Ruben smiled. He knew it wasn’t hot enough, but he tried shifting the lock anyway. It didn’t budge—but it was getting close. He waited until bits of the metal, closest to the centre of the heat, began to melt and drip onto the bars beneath. He pushed at the lock again and it moved.
Then came free.
Ruben swung the cell door open with a creak. He wanted to dash to the other cells and see who was inside. He needed to find Taya and the others. But he stopped himself—his hands were still aflame. He stared at them. His pulse beat fast. He breathed, trying to slow his heart, trying to calm the flames. The last thing he wanted was to frighten Taya.
The flames subsided. Slowly at first, then all at once the fire was snuffed out. His hands, his forearms, were blackened with ash.
Ruben rushed to the cell next door and looked inside. The light in the brig dimmed now his hands were no longer aflame. It took a moment for Ruben’s eyes to adjust. He stared through the cell bars, trying to make out the dark figures sitting within.
‘Hello?’ The dark forms didn’t shift. Ruben made out at least three people. He wondered why the other cells had company, while he’d been kept alone. Ruben turned around. Several lanterns hung on the walls from hooks down the brig’s hallway. He grabbed one and took it back to the cell, shining it through the bars to reveal those inside.
He made out the first face. A young man, staring forward with a glazed expression. Dark hair, a small scar under his eye. ‘Hulm!’ Ruben whispered. ‘Hulm, can you hear me?’
Hulm’s eyes flashed at Ruben for a split second, then stared back into nothing. He was under a trance—the same trance Ruben had been under. There was blood on his neck, a wound. Like the one Taya had, like the one Ruben had.
Ruben focused the lantern’s light on the other two in the cell. ‘Clint!’ he whispered. Clint didn’t move. ‘Iris!’ Iris stared into nothing.
He moved to the next cell, flashing the light inside. He called the names of everyone he found and not one responded. They were all under the demon’s spell. By the time he made it to the last cell of four, he’d found six of his fellow prisoners.
Three people were missing.
Taya was one of them.
Ruben could have lit a flame and freed the others. He almost did. He stared at his blackened hands, closed his eyes, felt the power inside. But there was no point freeing them—he knew what they were feeling. He’d felt the same nothingness before, but they must feel it more than he had. He’d been able to break the trance with whatever powers he possessed. He still didn’t know where his powers had come from, but there wasn’t time to dwell on that.
He opened his eyes and let his hands fall to his sides. He looked at the stairs at the end of the hall. Was Taya up those stairs? If she was still alive, why wasn’t she down here with the others? Ruben’s mind went to dark places. Rage filled his insides. Pumped through his veins. The same blind rage that had made him rush the demon back in the village square.
Ruben set his hands ablaze. The fire burned brighter than it had when he’d melted the lock. He walked up the stairs, breathing hard. The brig looked to be the lowest deck of the ship. There was a trapdoor at the top of the stairs. He pushed up with a burning hand, but the trapdoor didn’t budge.
Ruben reached up, placing both hands on the trapdoor. He focused his energy on the wood. It burned. The wood at the latch became brittle, snapping as Ruben smashed his fist against it. He emerged from the trapdoor into what looked like a cargo hold. A raider with matted hair and beard sat against a wall by the door. It was the first raider Ruben had seen back in the village, the one who looked a year older than himself.
The raider stared at Ruben in shock, barely moving from his spot. Ruben, hands ablaze, walked toward him. The trapdoor, still on fire, crackled from behind. Ruben was halfway to the raider when the raider found his senses and jumped to his feet, pulling a dagger from his belt.
Ruben barrelled forward. The raider shied back from the flames in Ruben’s hands, his hesitation costing him dearly. Ruben grabbed the wrist holding the dagger. The raider dropped his blade, his skin sizzling. Ruben grabbed the man’s neck with his other hand, saw the man’s eyes widen in fear, strangled gurgles escaping his throat instead of screams.
A part of Ruben woke, seeing the fear in the man’s eyes. He let go, heart racing, and watched him fall to the ground and scramble away. Ruben stared at the burns on the man’s wrist and neck in horror. The fire in his hands raged, flames reaching higher than ever. The trapdoor still burned behind him, and other parts of the storage room were catching.
He breathed in. Smoke burned his lungs. He refocused and looked at the door out. He needed to find Taya and make sure she was safe. More than that, he needed to find the raider’s leader, the demon man. Whatever he’d done to his captives had made them unable to fight—unable to even care what happened to them. Ruben could think of only one way to sever that connection.
Kill the demon.
Ruben glanced at the raider huddled in the corner, shaking in fear. The dagger had fallen to the ground by his feet. Ruben considered grabbing the dagger, but why would he need a dagger if he could control fire? He left the storage room, it burned in his wake. He hoped the fire wouldn’t spread down below, hoped the smoke wouldn’t suffocate the other prisoners, but there wasn’t anything he could do to help them right now.
The door led into the kitchens, the mess hall. The massive raider from his wagon, the one with the horrible smell and the giant axe, was slicing salted meat with his back toward Ruben. Three other raiders were in the mess hall, sitting at a long table for a meal.
And Taya was there, too, scrubbing dishes in the basin, same vacant expression plastered on her face.
The flames flared in Ruben’s hands, and every head turned to him.
The big raider, butcher knife gripped in meaty fingers, grunted as he stepped forward. One of the raiders at the back of the mess flitted away, running up the stairs. Taya stood at the basin, staring at him as if he were a stranger. As if he were nothing.
Every bit of rage Ruben had felt in the past few years, in the past few weeks. Every bit of pain from his life—the loss of his mother and father, being taken from his village. And now, his betrothed, standing there, staring with vacant eyes under the spell of a demon. It all bit into him, wrapped around his gut, fuelled whatever power it was that he could wield.
Ruben thrust his hands out toward the raider. Fire launched from his palms, catching the man’s long beard, engulfing him in flames. Still, the raider stepped forward. Beard burning, hair on fire, he swung the butcher’s knife at Ruben’s neck.
Ruben jumped back. The raider stumbled forward, forcing Ruben against a wall. The brute lunged, slashing overhand at Ruben’s head. Ruben slipped away from the wall. The butcher’s knife stuck into the wood where his head had been.
The flames burned brighter each step the raider took. Ruben saw the pain reach the man’s eyes, saw it take over before the screams started. The big raider stopped fighting. He fell, writhing as the fire consumed him.
Ruben’s gaze snapped to the other raiders in the room. They stood back, wary of what they’d seen. Footfalls came from the stairway at the far end. A man, clean shaven in a black suit, walked down the steps. The demon.
Ruben dashed forward.
The demon raised his hands, palms facing Ruben. Ruben’s run slowed to a walk. He’d grown ten times heavier—a force pulled him down. Ruben stared at the demon’s unblemished neck, imagining his flaming hands wrapped around it on each step he took.
The demon’s eyes widened. It was the first time Ruben had seen fear in them. Then his lips curled, gaze flashing behind Ruben to where Taya stood in the kitchen. Ruben was still at least six steps away.
‘Ruben!’
Ruben swivelled his head around. Taya stared at him, shaking. The fire that had killed the raider spread toward her, but she wasn’t moving.
‘Ruben, please, help me!’
There was more fire behind her, through the door to the storage room Ruben had left. The smoke seeped out, searching for an escape, filling the small hall. Ruben’s eyes went from the fire, to Taya, to the demon only a few steps away, almost within his grasp.
The demon smiled at him. ‘Well. Isn’t this interesting.’ He stepped forward, coming closer to Ruben. ‘I can fix it, you know.’ His hands, still thrust out, turned into fists—pain shot through Ruben’s stomach. ‘I can make the fire go away,’ the demon said, his voice crooning.
Ruben’s power drained away. His rage dissipated. He fell to his knees. The fire from his hands was gone. The demon bent down and whispered into his ear. ‘Give in to me. Let go, and I’ll save her. I’ll save them all.’
The words pushed into Ruben’s mind. He felt a pressure in his head—felt the demon pull with his powers on the scar at Ruben’s neck.
‘Ruben, please. Let go. Do it for me,’ said Taya, her voice pleading, and how could he refuse her?
Ruben let go. A dam in his mind broke, and the demon flooded in. He felt the man’s influence on his mind, on his body. The demon pulled at Ruben’s power, draining it from inside him. Ruben fell, eyes open. He could see Taya from here, the fire. The demon standing over him, hands reaching for the flames.
He felt the tug on his powers, the demon taking them, as the flames in the kitchen and the storage room beyond began to die.
The fire disappeared in seconds, leaving only smoke and the charred remains of the raider Ruben had killed. Ruben’s will disappeared as he watched the demon step toward the body.
The demon waved at the dead raider. ‘Throw him overboard.’ Two men, the raiders who had been eating when Ruben entered, dragged the body away.
