by RG Long
It was time to betray his secret and pray that none would ever survive to know. He clenched his fist tightly. Sweat began to bead on his forehead as he concentrated hard.
“Prince Grattus,” the voice began again, but this time it felt far and distant, instead of right behind him.
“Goddess of Blood,” he began to murmur, opening his eyes just a little. He could see the now familiar purple light gleam in his hand. “I call you to my aid. My offering before me.”
“What the...” the voice began, but then it was chaos.
Grattus’ eyes opened wide and he felt the new rush of power. His body was wreathed in purple flames as he spread his arms wide, pushing out the energy that was coursing through him into the people who had dared confront him. This was his new power. This was his secret. The key to his pursuit of more than a poor northern kingdom ruled by an ailing king.
And he would kill every person who saw him use it.
He clutched his sword and drew it from its sheath. The dungeon around him was alight with purple flame. He had expected his prey to cower. He had expected them to run. All who had seen him in this way had fled in terror before he struck them down.
The last thing he had expected was for them to fight. A little halfling stood his ground with his long knife drawn and a determined look on his face. Behind him a cloaked figure held two balls of green energy, a Speaker in his own dungeon. As he spun around, he saw the man who had been threatening him pull out his sword with a grim, determined face.
“Siding with demons?” the older man sneered. “You won’t find that gives you an advantage over us, Grattus.”
For a moment, Grattus hesitated. Then, remembering his own strength and energy that was coursing through him, he threw a hand out at the sneering face, not caring who this man was and how he knew so much about him. He would die for seeing his secret.
A burst of green energy struck his hand and knocked him off balance. The cloaked figure had lost their hood, and Grattus was surprised to see a teenage girl staring at him, her other hand raised and full of magic.
“Heretics and witches,” Grattus snarled. “I fought your kind for a decade on my own soil and another in the disputed land. I’ve seen what your type can do. But have you seen the great power of the Goddess of Blood?” He threw both of his hands out and felt the energy go from his body in all directions. The very stones of his castle shook. Yells from the many dungeon cells echoed as its occupants cowered and screamed in fear.
“Bah! We’re down here!” a voice called from his right. Grattus ignored it.
Turning to face the girl who was wielding magic, he let his anger fill him. These people had come to fight? They would pay for their insolence.
“You don’t really want to match your feeble skills against my own, do you?” he taunted. A smile crossed the face of the teenage girl.
“Are you willing to be outmatched by a girl a third your own age?” she taunted back at him.
Taking his sword in his hand he yelled as he swiped at her. The blade seared through stone and metal as if they were paper. He felt a resounding thud reverberate through him, though, as his blade stopped on shield of magical energy.
For a moment his eyes went wide.
With his powerful blade, he had ended the lives of several lords and dukes who had threatened him. He had cut down entire villages and left nothing but charred huts in his wake. Nothing had been able to stop him since he had allowed this force to enter his body.
Since he had given up the failing religion of Ladis in return for far greater power than the self-righteous Priests had ever offered him. He had seen the powers of the Isolians and knew that they could not be stopped by sheer manpower alone. So he had offered up his own body as a tool for the dark forces to inhabit. He had crushed Speakers to death with his sword and sliced their bodies asunder as they feebly cast their spells.
He had been unstoppable.
And no one had known it was him.
It had been easy to blame the Isolian army for every appearance of magic. Of course the Speakers were terrorizing his country. It was an easy lie to tell and a wonderful cover up for him to experiment with his power and to keep it fresh. Besides, he had never left a survivor, so there was never a fear of repercussions.
But this little girl had stopped his blade.
With a shout of rage he forced out his hand at her, hoping to send a blast of energy her way. She held out her own hand to deflect his blow, and managed to hold him still.
A yell from down past behind him interrupted Grattus’ concentration.
“That’s it, Blume! We’ve got them! Time to go!”
With what looked like a considerable amount of effort, the girl shoved aside her own hands, causing Grattus to be thrown off balance. The blast of their combined magical energy tore through rock and stone.
It was then Grattus realized the prisoner he had spoken to when he had first stopped in the dungeon was no longer in his cell.
A chill blast of air came from the outside as Grattus blinked and understood. This had been a distraction, a ruse. He had been fooled.
The young girl took advantage of his momentary lapse. Grattus saw the flash of green, felt it hit his chest, and felt wind rushing past him as he sailed back against the wall.
Before darkness enveloped him, he saw shadows and shapes rushing past and through the tunnel that had been created with magic. An overwhelming sense of anger coursed through him as his eyes forced themselves shut and he fell into unconsciousness.
The last fleeting thought he had was the face of a fiery woman, screaming in anger, displeased.
23: A Little More Lost
Once again, Blume found herself crawling through the rubble of a damaged building which she had managed to bring down. Sometimes her magical abilities scared her.
Not this time.
She was thrilled with her ability to handle the demonic power coming out of Prince Grattus. Even more so, she felt the excitement of being able to perform this magic and Speak to the elements without her precious amulet.
She desperately wanted to get it back, but she had found the magic ring a suitable substitute for the time being. She had been able to draw upon its power and do, in her own mind, really impressive magic. It continued to glow blue on her hand as she looked down on it, scrambling on hands and knees through the tunnel. The ring was still glowing brilliantly, having just been used. Blume blinked, though, as she thought she saw something in the ring.
“Bah! What’s the hold up?” Gorplin called from behind.
Blume realized she had stopped crawling.
“Sorry!” she called back as she continued to move forward.
The group was scrambling through the debris as quickly as they dared. It was hard to tell which direction they had come out of. To better fortify it, the castle and its dungeons had been built into the mountain itself. Blume had been afraid that she might have just blown a hole in a tunnel in the mountain and succeeded only to get lost in another network caves.
Fortunately, the combined blast of her and Prince Grattus’ magic had blown apart a wall, not a mountainside.
In the chaos and confusion, they could hear shouts coming from behind them through the tunnel they had made and several guards running along the castle walls. But they were outside of them. Their concern now was running.
“Everyone follow Mas!” Holve was shouting, counting heads as they ran past him. Blume saw Ealrin give him an incredulous look.
“Shouldn’t we be throwing them back into the dungeon?” Ealrin said, putting a hand on his sword.
Blume quite agreed with him. Mas and his buddies had managed to capture them, bring them to Meris, and then hand them over to the prince. It was only by the fortunate hand of fate that all of them were not locked away in the dungeons.
“Just trust me and do it!” Holve shouted back as he helped Jurrin out of the hole. “That’s everyone!”
Blume could see the argument and conflict in Ealrin’s eyes,
but he just shook his head and grabbed onto Blume’s arm, helping her to run. Blume turned around to see if there was anyone following them out of the tunnel.
No one was.
Yet.
Guards were shouting somewhere off in the distance, and Blume wasn’t sure which way they should be running. She also wasn’t making that choice at the moment, but instead they were following one of the men who kidnapped them.
Something seemed wrong to Blume about this, but there wasn’t time to question Holve. And she knew they had to trust Holve. At least, that’s what they kept telling themselves.
Rushing away from the damaged castle and debris of the blast, the group ran as quickly as they could into the night. Passing between two buildings, they finally came to a road. After running for some time on hard ground with patchy grass, paved stones were under their feet. The road was reasonably well taken care of, at least compared to the rest of Meris. Large houses went in both directions. Despite the relative poverty of the rest of the city, this area was well kept. The only difference was the lack of residents. People were visibly absent from this nicer area of town.
Is that because they were all at the castle celebrating with the prince, Blume wondered.
And did they know their prince was on the side of demons?
These thoughts filled her mind as they continued to sprint away from the center of the city. Blume knew their relatively peaceful escape couldn’t last long. As soon as the thought reached her mind, she heard shouting that was much closer at hand than any other.
“Prison break!” a man was shouting. “Prisoners escaping the prince’s dungeon!”
That was bad.
“We’re too large a group,” Tratta said as they came to an alleyway. Holve scanned the area around them and nodded his head.
“We need to split up into two groups,” he said. “Ealrin, Gorplin, Blume, and Olma come with me. Everyone else head back towards the northern wall. We’ll go over from the usual spot.”
“Bah! What’s this rubbish?” Gorplin complained. “We’re not leaving with them are we? They’re the ones who bloody threw us in the prison in the first place!”
More shouting came from around the corner and Holve shoved Gorplin ahead.
“No time!” he said. “Move!”
“There they are!” came a voice as a group of ten or so soldiers turned the corner. Blume could hear more shouting from behind them.
“GO!” Holve shouted, and Gorplin relented.
“Bah,” he muttered. “Bloody mad.”
There wasn’t any more time to argue. The guards had rounded the corner and were coming at them, spears drawn and faces in varying degrees of anger.
Blume took small satisfaction in knowing that she had helped destroy their prison.
The group of Meris natives went one way, through a regal looking yard of a house that surely belonged to some esteemed noble, while Holve led their group away from the guards, yet continuing down the street.
Olma was by Blume’s side as they ran. Suddenly, from one house, eight Temple guards in brown robes ran out the front door with maces in their hands.
“Heretics!” one of them cried.
Blume swore as she looked down at her hands. She hadn’t thought to hide her magic and, in her haste and worry, her hands were glowing with green energy. She acted before much else could happen. They had already seen her magic. Now they’d get a taste of it.
She threw the energy at the ground before them and the blast knocked the guards off their feet. For good measure, Blume turned and threw another bolt at the soldiers coming their way. They scattered in a satisfying manner.
Blume tried to take a deep breath, but suddenly found herself dizzy. She was exerting too much. She had to pace herself if she was going to be of any help.
“This way!” a voice shouted as she felt her arm being tugged away from the two groups of recovering Meris troops. Blume let herself be pulled as she tried to focus her energy back into running and not giving off magic without her permission.
It was a moment before she realized that the hand on her arm wasn’t Ealrin’s usual strong, firm grip. It was a smaller hand pulling her forward.
She blinked and saw that Olma was guiding her in between a stone fence and a nice looking house. The little girl then ducked through a backyard and a hedge, all the while pulling Blume with her.
“Where are Ealrin and Holve and...” she began to say.
“They got separated from us by third group of guards who came up,” Olma replied.
Third group? What other guards? Blume shook her head. Her mind was fuzzy and she felt disoriented. Where were they going? Where was everyone else?
Leaves and twigs brushed her as Olma pulled her down through a small opening in the bottom of the hedge. The sensation brought Blume out of her dazed state.
“Oh,” she said, as several twigs poked her in the face. “Ow! How thick is this bush?”
“Hopefully thick enough to keep those guards from chasing us,” Olma said. “Do you think I can let go of you now? Are you okay?”
Blume felt okay. She just didn’t know why there had been a lapse of time she apparently couldn’t remember.
“I’m fine,” she said as she began crawling on her hands and knees following Olma through the bushes.
The vegetation was much bigger than Blume would have guessed. It was also much scratchier. Plants apparently had to be heartier to grow up here. This bush was strong and thick enough to deter most anyone. After several more scrapes and a lot of crawling, they finally came to the end of vegetation.
“Wait just a minute,” Olma said, holding out her hand behind her. “I want to make sure there aren’t any guards over this way.”
Blume was finding herself impressed. This little girl was smart. She could only be a few years younger than Blume, but still. She was acting like one that had been on adventures before.
“Did you ever run through a city like this before?” Blume found herself asking. Seems like an odd question when she heard it out loud, but Olma was holding herself together quite well.
“No,” Olma replied. “I never even been to the city before, much less run away from guards of the Temple or the prince. The most I ever did was go on a few hunting trips with Dad or play around our village.”
“What happened to your parents?” Blume asked. She knew it had been something tragic, but she also had not thought to ask about it until just now. It didn’t seem like the best of timing.
There was a long stretch where Blume could hear the city noises begin to fill the air again. They had come from the less crowded more affluent part of town and were moving into the more populated, poorer section. Olma cleared her throat noisily before speaking.
“I don’t see any guards. Let’s try to find the others.”
Blume didn’t argue or press her after they climbed out of the bushes and started walking briskly down the market street that was still alive with activity, despite the late hour. She couldn’t help her nagging feeling, however, that Olma had intentionally left her question unanswered.
IT WASN’T LONG BEFORE they were both lost. Blume couldn’t concentrate long enough to keep her mind on the task at hand, and Olma kept suggesting they take turns at shops they had already passed.
“Ok, ok,” Blume finally said, frustrated with herself for not understanding how to get headed north without running into dead end streets and persistent shopkeepers and Olma’s lack of direction. “We need to get somewhere up high. That way we can see where we’re going and find the northern wall.”
It seemed like a simple enough plan. Olma appeared on the verge of tears herself, so she just nodded without saying anything. They found a building with a lattice someone had given up on growing anything on many years ago. Making sure there were no prying eyes glancing their way, Blume sent Olma up first, then followed her the rest of the way up.
The dry, crackling vines snapped and broke as Blume fitted her hands and feet into the squares of wo
od. The thought occurred to her that this must have, at one point, been a very expensive house decoration. What would cause the owner to abandon it?
Some crumbling vines rained down on her from underneath Olma’s foot and she had to squint her eyes as some of the dust flooded her face.
“Ah!” she exclaimed, trying to keep calm, but realizing her left eye was burning with the sediment inside it. She closed it tightly, hoping her tears would wash it out.
“What’s wrong?” Olma said from above, shifting her foot and causing more dust to come down.
“Nothing! Just keep climbing!”
Blume gritted her teeth and followed Olma up the lattice until, at last, they reached the top of the building, four stories up. She looked down at the street and saw, both to her relief and her terror, that there were many guards from the prince and Temple guards walking around. They hadn’t seen one since coming out of the bushes. Now from their higher up vantage point, it looked like the street was crawling with them.
“Good timing,” she muttered.
“That’s north,” Olma said, not looking down at the street, but rather out at the stars and the moons of the night. “That way.”
She indicated the direction they ought to be heading and Blume saw that they would be unable to move that way for some time. While they could go from rooftop to rooftop for a few buildings, they would be stopped at more than one spot where the gap was considerable. With the guards below, they would have to wait until they went to patrol a different part of town.
Unless...
“I could try to get us over there,” Blume said, touching the ring on her hand, feeling its magic move from the stone to her fingers. “With magic. We might even beat the others if they were delayed, too.”
“I’d rather not,” Olma said from a few steps away. Blume looked up and realized she had moved a good two or three steps back, at the back edge of the roof.
“What’s wrong, Olma?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.
The younger girl looked white. Her eyes were wide and her arms were wrapped tightly around her.
