“The other has proven worthless; it is the woman that we seek. She is the chosen.”
“I cannot get to her, she is guarded. I do not know where they are hiding her.”
The shadow stood motionless staring at Desmond. For a moment he felt a light bit of fear running through his veins.
“We know where she is. There is only one guarding her. We will take them both. The others are arriving to the fortress on their own.”
Desmond felt some slight relief. He wouldn’t be punished for failure like he had been in the past. All he needed to do was incapacitate two people and deliver them to the warlocks. Then he could return to Crown Bay and continue his charade as Chairman.
Desmond nodded, understanding that he would be needed to help accomplish this task, but that he would have assistance, just like he did when he was sent to get Arman.
Revna and Degny were back at the cabin, preparing a meal for themselves. They had been quite the past day or so. Dagny wanted to tell Revna everything she was thinking, but the strong, cold exterior that Revna possessed was intimidating.
When they finally had a moment to sit down and eat, Dagny felt it was time to try and build a relationship with her. She sat with her stew in a bow in her lap waiting for the right words to formulate in her mind.
Revna glanced up as she chewed, sensing Dagny was troubled. She swallowed and smiled, something she rarely did.
“Dagny, I have to apologize.”
Dagny was taken off guard by this comment. She furrowed her brow looking at Revna.
“Apologize?”
“Yes. When we first met, I was a bit harsh towards you. I thought of you as a spoiled rich elite. I was intimidated by your upbringing and so I said some things that may have been hurtful to you.”
“You were intimidated by me?” Dagny said slightly shocked.
Here was a woman that was fierce and strong, yet she was afraid of Dagny, a small, helpless proper woman, who couldn’t lift a sword if her life depended on it.
Revna nodded with a slight smirk.
“I thought with you tagging along we would be dealing with your complaints and spoiled bratty antics that I have encountered before with others from The Springs. But you proved me wrong. You didn’t question or protest when we forced you to change your clothes. You took a swig of our wine, even when I called you out for it. You fought off an attacker, you have proven to be a worthy companion and for that I am sorry for misjudging you.”
“Revna, you need not apologize for anything. I am the one that should be thanking you. You saved my life. I would not have survived that attack had you not shown up when you did. You inspire me greatly and I hope that in time, you may think of me as a friend and not just a client.”
The two smiled a moment and then let out a nervous laugh.
“I do consider you a friend Dagny.” Revna said as she raised her glass.
The two took a sip. “I know the wine we drink isn’t as refined as your Vanguardian vineyards, but you hold your own.”
“Perhaps someday we can visit Vanguard together, as friends.”
“And sample their wine?” Revna asked with raised eyebrows.
“What other reason would there be to visit Vanguard?” Dagny said with a slight laugh.
The two chuckled a bit and continued to eat. Dagny thought a moment as she and Revna sat by the fireplace. She wanted to tell her about her feelings, about what had happened near the brook all those days ago. She was looking at Revna. Revna caught her glance and looked up.
“What is troubling you?”
She could sense Dagny was bothered. “Is it Arman?” she asked in a softer voice.
“Revna, I need to tell you something. It is something I have spoken with no one about. I am ashamed of it, embarrassed, but I feel it is related to the events that have unfolded.”
Revna set her bowl of stew to the side table to give her full attention to Dagny. This appeared important and she needed to show her that she was a trustworthy friend. Dagny looked down at her stew and set it on the table. “Isadore said something before, something about when a caster starts to develop their abilities.”
“You mean being clandestine?”
“Yes. I know The Malachite Order is searching for those with abilities. Arman never expressed to me that he was experiencing any of the strange desires or being drawn to the elements. He may have and he just didn’t want to tell me because he was embarrassed, but…”
She swallowed hard finding it difficult to actually speak about what had happened.
“Dagny, it is alright. I am a friend.”
Dagny looked at her and nodded.
“It is just that Isadore is so intimidating I was afraid to say anything and now I regret that I should have. I was afraid they wouldn’t go after Arman.”
“What are you trying to say Dagny?”
“The things Isadore spoke of, the draw towards the elements, strange desires and sensations, the ability to work with the elements, well, all of what he spoke of I have experienced. I have even manifested what I believe was a water bolt. I was just so afraid, so scared of what I was I pushed it away and hid it. I didn’t want to be labeled or thought of as a warlock. I…I believe…I think…”
“You are clandestine.” Revna said slightly shocked.
She stared at Dagny, who was now teary eyed.
“I am sorry I hid this Revna.”
Revna stood up feeling her heart race. She was looking around the small cabin a moment trying to think, but her mind was racing. “Please Revna, do not be angry with me.”
“Dagny, I am not angry.” Revna said quickly.
“Why do you look upset then.”
Revna looked at her quickly.
“Because if you are the chosen one The Order is looking for, then they will be coming for you.”
Just then there was a loud bang. It sounded like a door slamming. It was coming from down the hall where the bedrooms where. Dagny jumped to her feet gasping as Revna quickly drew her daggers up and stood before Dagny protecting her.
There was silence a moment as Revna felt her heart racing. She swallowed hard.
“What is it?” Dagny whispered in a shaky voice.
“Trouble.”
Chapter 14
“I don’t see anything.” Gorm grumbled.
He sat on the edge of the thick forest surrounded by darkness. He was peering out towards the dark towering wall of rock before him.
“There to the right.” Isadore said unmoved.
Gorm squinted, still struggling to see anything in the darkness. There was a heavy fog that was rolling in. This would be used to their advantage. They had spent the last day trekking north through the thick forest of Lode. Finally, the rising mountainous fortress of Malachite stood before them.
Isadore stood firmly with his eyes blackened out. Crowley was gliding around low finding the hidden entrance they were seeking to get past the wall.
“Well maybe if I cheated and used Crowley, I could see it.” Gorm grumbled.
“I see it.” Leif said softly, squinting into the darkness.
Gorm huffed.
“There are no patrols here. The fog will aid us in crossing the open field to the broken stairs.” Isadore said pulling himself out of his trance.
His eyes returned to normal. “We will wait until the fog is thicker.”
The three got comfortable in their hidden spot within the forest. Isadore remained standing like a statue. His frozen glare remained on the area he had scouted with Crowley. The bird wouldn’t return to him. Not at this point. It was no longer safe to use him as a scout. Crowley sought out refuge in the trees, remaining near but out of sight. While the two were not connected in a visual trance, they were always linked and could sense each other’s emotions, despite Isadore’s lack of displaying them, he still felt them.
“What of your vision now that we can no longer use Crowley?” Leif asked.
Isadore had told them this was as far as Crowley could
go. Anything further would be detected by The Order and put exposing them at risk, not to mention putting Crowley’s life at risk. A warlock wouldn’t hesitate to kill a Seer’s companion, especially if it were a Seer, spying on them.
“We will have to go in alone. There is limited wildlife here. Once inside I may be able to find a rat to use. We shall see.”
Isadore was not committed to using another animal for scouting. While the ability was extremely useful and he was the only one that he knew of within The Order that possessed such a talent, he couldn’t rely on help, not knowing what they might face once inside.
Isadore stood watch for a while as the thick fog rolled in. Leif and Gorm made quiet small talk until they could move again. Leif looked up at Isadore.
“Izzy, how do you know Arman is the chosen?”
Isadore glanced over at him. He tilted his head slightly.
“I don’t, it is merely a suspicion.”
“Do you think he is a caster?”
Isadore could feel the inquisition starting. He drew a long breath.
“I don’t know. The family name is not one known for having the genetic line of casters. The Order has many books tracking family trees. Marfell was not among those names. But Dagny and Arman are twins, which is a rare occurrence and often associated with casters. It is very significant with the Malachite warlocks.”
“What do you mean?” Gorm asked suddenly.
Isadore had not mentioned the connection of twins to The Order.
“The prophesy, the chosen, it was said the individual would rise as two, only one possessing the power, increased twofold.”
“So, the power of twins would manifest in only one of them, but as strong as two casters?” Leif asked clarifying.
“Precisely.”
There was a pause. Leif looked back at Isadore.
“So, if Arman is proven to not be the chosen…”
“Then Dagny may very well be.” Isadore finished his sentence with a nod.
Leif became concerned.
“Did you sense anything? When you were doing thought seeing, sweeping her thoughts back at the Clinedale and the inn, did you see anything that might indicate she is a caster?”
“No.” Isadore said honestly. “And if Arman is not a caster, it is not to say Dagny is one. Neither of them may be.”
Gorm cleared his throat.
“But why would The Order get involved with the Marfell family if they did not suspect they were casters?”
There was a long silence between all of them. Isadore had thought of that long before. It was what concerned him the most.
“They wouldn’t.” Isadore said coldly.
“But Izzy, you said before, warlocks have made mistakes, they have done the ritual to many they suspected as clandestine and they proved to not have any abilities.” Leif said holding out for some hope.
“That is true Leif, so, it very well may be neither Dagny or Arman are casters.”
Leif paused thinking. He drew a long breath.
“But something must have caused them to be suspicious of Arman, otherwise why take him?”
Leif looked up at Isadore. His cold stare and emotionless face only confirmed Leif’s statement. While there was no confirmation either Marfell was a caster, there was still suspicion, enough so to get The Order involved.
“We move now.” Isadore said firmly.
They looked out into a blanket of thick fog. Nothing could be seen, not even a dim light from the fortress. They moved quickly across the open plain that separated the wall from the forest. They followed Isadore as he led them towards the side of the wall. It appeared solid and flat completely.
“There are no stairs here!” Gorm grumbled in a whisper. “How are we to get in?”
Isadore glanced at him with a slight smirk.
“There are stairs, but only to those that know where to look for them.”
He gestured to the wall. They walked right up to it until it was inches in front of their face. Gorm looked over to Leif, feeling foolish for staring at a solid green stone wall. “Look to your left.” Isadore ordered.
Leif and Gorm turned their heads to the side and there was, in full view, a crumbling, winding, stone staircase that meandered upwards. They were both astonished. From the front of the wall, the entrance was invisible. One would need to get right up to the wall to even see the small slit where the wall separated to expose the stairs.
They moved quickly and started climbing up the steps. It was a difficult climb. The stairs were crumbling and even collapsed in some spots. They had not been maintained in hundreds of years. All that remained were the steps laid out so long ago with years of abuse from the weather and growth of the world.
The stairs move up in a zig zag pattern, moving left to right, all the while ascending up further and further towards the towering structure looming above them. Their movements were covered in the fog, but as they move up higher, the fog became thinner, until eventually, they were breathing in the crisp, cold night air around them.
They looked back down and could see far below the dense fog engulfed the wall and forest they had come from. It felt as if they were up in the clouds looking down on the planet. Isadore remained focused and they moved along towards the furthest watch tower. This would be the only means of getting inside the fortress.
They were rounding a corner near the tower. It rose up out of the ground. They could see a dim light emitting from within it as the green glow flickered through the open windows. There was a side door made of wood that they were able to enter through. Once inside the tower they all stopped a moment to look around.
“So, what is this place then?” Gorm whispered.
“It is a watch tower, one of seven around the fortress. We will need to search the prison for Arman. Stay close and out of sight.”
Leif and Gorm nodded as they continued to move along. Inside the tower there were connecting halls that led down into other parts of the structure. Isadore knew his way around but Leif and Gorm, if separated, would be lost for days trying to navigate through the area.
Isadore wanted to limit their exposure inside the structure. He knew the prison would be the most likely place they would have Arman. Since the structure was nearly impenetrable, it wouldn’t be heavily guarded, in fact, one would be hard pressed to find any guards there. Warlocks were so confident in their magic, once a prisoner was locked away, they would only be tended to for feeding, if they were keeping them alive.
They moved down a long hall. The inside of the fortress was made of the same green malachite stone. The floors and walls were all carved from large pieces that were stacked together. Windows looked out every so often as nothing more than rounded slits in the walls. There was no glass or covering, just open air into the black night sky.
There were little to no decorations along the halls. Every so often a lantern or torch was lit on the wall, burning in a strange, almost hypnotic, green flame. Isadore knew this as malachite fire, the longest lasting warlock spell for conjuring heat and flame. It was unnatural from normal fire, which is why it burned green.
The prison was deep down several levels beneath where they were. In order to get down there they would need to pass through one of the many stairwells. These were usually filled with heavy traffic, regardless of where you were in the fortress, since it was the only means of getting to all the other levels of the structure. They approached a corner and Isadore paused at the end of it peering around. He could hear low voices echoing down the hall.
Just as he was peering around, a large rat ran past Gorm, who jumped and grabbed Leif. Leif shoved him silently for making such a startled reaction to a small rodent. Isadore turned and saw it and scooped it up with one hand, quickly looking at it.
“Can you connect?” Leif whispered hopeful.
Isadore was staring at the rodent. At first it was squirming in his hand, slightly panicked, as if it thought a predator had grabbed him. After a moment, it stopped thrashing and was twitching
its head around, inspecting the three of them. Isadore, without a word, crouched down and placed the rat on the floor.
He stood back up and his eyes changed to black. The rat ran out around the corner as Isadore watched. He could see the hall before them was empty, but just beyond that where the stair entrance was, two warlocks were conversing. It appeared they were standing there, just talking. The rat remained there for a few minutes watching all of this. He darted out and ran past them going down the stairs two levels. They appeared clear at this time.
The Chosen Page 9
