by C E Johnson
How many magicians? Arn whispered urgently in Droth’s mind.
Droth scanned the men. There’s one magician in their squad, a user of blue magic. His power is strong, but it’s raw and unorganized. The man’s aura suggested compassion and benevolence. The enemy mage summoned his blue magus, throwing a shield to protect his entire group.
Cast your own shield! Arn urged Droth into action. Droth leapt to his feet while mouthing his incantation, including his dogs in his spell. He felt some satisfaction as the blue magestone in the silk pouch began to vibrate, adding strength to his magical shield.
Arn sorted through Droth’s options instantaneously. If you try and kill them all, you won’t survive. You need to inflict maximum damage to weaken their magician, then run. Droth gripped his short swords in his sweaty hands and ran back through the center of their group with his arms crossed, swords by his sides, letting his blades punish his enemy. Steel reigned supreme, draining the magician’s shield while causing men to tumble and roll. His Dobermans attacked simultaneously before and behind him, snapping and slashing amidst cries of pain.
Go back through them! Arn encouraged Droth. The magician won’t last much longer. Twirling after striking the last soldier in their crew, Droth once again streaked back through the confused and angry faces with his dogs snarling and biting. The trauma inflicted was simply too much for the spell of the blue mage and the magician collapsed to the ground unconscious, depleted of his energy at trying to maintain his incantation over his whole squad. The air was thick with death-smoke and laden with screams of anger and pain. Droth ran from the warriors, but he felt dizzy and lightheaded. Bolts and arrows were finding their marks on his defenseless retreating back. Stumbling and faltering, Droth felt beyond drained. He sent a quick dream-link to Lambo appraising him of his approach and the situation. Once he burst into the cavern foyer, his weakness got the better of him and he stumbled into a cave pool, nearly impaling himself on the point of a vicious stalagmite. His dogs were more dexterous and avoided the obstacles on the cavern floor.
Move! Arn insisted. Droth, dripping wet, recovered and scrambled toward the boulders by the entrance. Lambo’s missiles went into action. He was targeting the following thieves entering the cavern. Steel bolts were darting with bone-jarring force so close to Droth’s body that he flinched as they passed. The cloudy stench of death filled the air under the withering rain of Lambo’s crossbow.
Once Droth reached his nephew, he grabbed Lambo’s equipment and kept moving. “Time to fly!” he roared. They exited the cavern just as the sun sank over the horizon. Droth raced over the patch of sand by the cavern entrance toward his bondsmate
Finally, Arn sounded panicked. You took much too long. He shuffled nervously back and forth along his branch. Send out the Dobermans.
Droth made a signal to his dogs, releasing them to hunt after the soldiers that were sure to give chase. He knew the powerful animals would terrorize anyone brave enough to follow. He snatched up his eagle, and angled his exhausted body into the thick of the woods.
Lambo directed his bondsmate into the sky. “I’m going to let Orel hunt with your dogs. He can help them if they get into trouble.” Droth nodded appreciatively to his nephew. They set off jogging at a pace as fast as Droth could muster.
“I assume you had success?” Lambo arched a questioning eyebrow. His breathing was quick, but strong. Although he didn’t have the benefit of the heightening, he was still fast.
“Success.” Droth was too tired to even give Lambo a victory smile. They continued in silence for a time until Droth signaled he needed a rest by a small stream. Droth placed Arn on a branch, and he rinsed off his blood-caked hands and washed his face in the water. He wiped the blood from a multitude of cuts on his body while the setting sun fell into a darkening horizon. Droth enjoyed the rest. He retrieved the silk bag and poured the magestones into his hand to show his nephew.
“They’re incredible,” Lambo murmured, moving closer.
Droth placed the stones in Lambo’s palm and cleared his throat. “Pull out the greenstone and do your best healing spell on me. The magestone will bolster your magic.”
Lambo selected the greenstone and began his incantation. A portion of Droth’s wounds began to heal. They were both so focused on the results that they didn’t realize the enemy had stolen into their camp until Arn screeched, Soldiers, in Droth’s mind while also sending images of two men in brown leather armor creeping up on them.
Droth roared, “Lambo! Behind you!” Spinning around just in the nick of time, Lambo was able to defend himself against the descent of a sword that fell in a mighty arc. Droth watched a silver aura flare as Lambo used his psionic magic to deflect the force of his attacker’s follow-up blow. Before Droth could charge, Arn plummeted down from the tree, landing on the head of one of their assailants. The large golden eagle struck aggressively pecking at the man’s eyes. The thief raised his hands to prevent his loss of sight, and the diversion gave Lambo a window of opportunity to thrust his sword forward through the leather jerkin of the first attacker who disappeared in a cloud of mist. Droth made short work of the second attacker as his sword slithered past a shield of ironwood and through chain mail.
As they slowly pulled themselves together, Lambo gave Droth and Arn a slow, relieved smile. “Nice work,” he said while reaching out a hand to stroke Arn.
“Arn didn’t want you to die before you finish your mission to attempt to help his wings.” Droth teased.
I would help Lambo no matter what, Arn retorted.
Lambo laughed while continuing to stroke the great eagle. “I’ll make sure you fly again, my friend.” Orel reappeared, flying overhead, flashing through the trees to land on Lambo’s shoulder. The silver eagle wagged his tail feathers back and forth before preening the hair by Lambo’s ear. “I’m fine, Orel,” Lambo protested.
“Let’s move out.” Droth gathered up the magestones and they started jogging again.
Lambo studied Droth while trotting at his side. “I think my spell worked. Not as much blood falling from you now. We’ll be harder to trace.”
Droth snorted back a chuckle, “I’m sorry my wounds were worrying you.”
Lambo smiled, “For some reason, I’ve been cursed with continually watching over a crazy old man who keeps getting into trouble. You don’t realize how hard this job is.”
They shared an easy laugh. The stress of their situation was slowly washing away from them as they went deeper into the woods. Orel guided them toward their planned initial campground.
The two again cleaned wounds before eating a meal together. Several times they paused in their activities, listening to a faint scream in the distant woods. Droth nodded toward the noise, “My dogs are keeping us protected.”
“Now we just need to deliver our package.” Lambo appeared more relaxed. “When will you find out where we have to go?”
“I guess now is as good a time as any.” Droth pulled out the magestones. He dropped into a dream-link, closing his eyes to better concentrate on contacting an elder on the board of the Bird Clan. Where do we deliver the magestone collection? Droth displayed each of the magestones to his commander.
The elder inclined his head toward Droth. Congratulations. I’m impressed by your skill as always. I will contact our employer with these images. The link ended.
“Our patron appears to be extremely cautious,” Droth said to Lambo. He leaned back against a tree and carefully put the magestones back in their bag. Three silent, dark shadows stealthily emerged from the darkness, padding toward Droth.
“Your death-squad has returned.” Droth could hear the awe in his nephew’s voice. The dogs came as a group, fierce and strong, muzzles dripping with blood, only to raise their heads and lick their master’s hand before curling up next to his legs. All three had injuries. Droth took out the greenstone once again and began to heal them. “Uncle, save your energy,” Lambo protested.
Droth waved his hand in the air to stifle Lambo’s
comments. “They fight for me in love. I would drain my last drop of magus to protect them.”
“Even though they’re not your bondsmates?” There was doubt in Lambo’s voice.
“They’re family.” Droth continued to work on the three. “I would sacrifice everything for them.
Lambo knelt by the Dobermans and began to help clean their wounds. The dogs pricked their ears in pain, but never bared their teeth, allowing the two men to work on their injuries. Droth felt a tugging sensation. “I’m being called into a dream-link.”
The bird-clan elder came into view. He informed Droth who had employed them and where Droth had to deliver the magestones. He’s sending our clan even more treasure for the completion of this stage of the endeavor. Your reward will be great.
Droth opened his eyes and stared up at the scores of stars twinkling in the night sky before speaking to Lambo. “I think the delivery of this package might be more difficult than the acquisition.” He sighed. “We’re headed to Shadoe in the Dothan Forest.”
C H A P T E R 9
Delores
Emily could scarcely believe the news. Images on the television displayed the damage caused by another massive earthquake rocking the Earth. This time the Pacific Northwest was being shaken and coastal towns were becoming inundated with floods from a massive tsunami, which was destroying buildings and bridges. Thousands were feared dead, and more were without power.
“Our world seems to be falling apart.” Jean’s eyes were wide, and her voice strained as she studied the destruction.
“So many dead.” Emily bit her lip. Should I be doing more to find Iscar? The weather had changed in Austin, and the house was cold. She couldn’t suppress a small shiver as cool fingers crept down her back, a combination of the lower temperature and concern over the unknown.
“Scary, isn’t it?” Growing fear was etched into Jean’s face. Her arms were crossed in front of her and Emily suddenly realized with horror that she was holding something magical. There was a letter in her hand with an extremely faint black aura emanating from the paper.
“Mom, what are you holding?” Emily’s voice quavered. I don’t want my mother involved with magic in any way.
Magic? Where? Xena entered the room while rumbling with a low growl. She approached the letter and began to sniff the square cream-colored envelope in Jean’s hand.
Emily’s words appeared to jog Jean’s memory. “Xena, what’s wrong with you? It’s just an envelope.” Jean rubbed Xena’s head as she chided the massive beast. “This letter came for you yesterday. She handed it to Emily.
Open it in your room, Xena warned, still sniffing the air. I don’t like the smell of it. She sent Emily the scent of something forceful, acrid and bitter.
“I’m going to open it upstairs.” Emily studied the flickering dark aura as she started toward the stairs, knowing something lurking and insidious lay in wait for her. Her mother didn’t answer, her attention was focused on the news; she was fixated on the television screen. Emily leapt up the last steps of her curving wooden staircase, and she darted to her room. Sitting down in her cushioned chair, she dropped the envelope on her smooth wooden desktop. Her name and address were written in a very intricate script. There was no return address on the letter. Emily’s ki was not alerting her to any true danger, but she wasn’t sure if she really wanted to reveal that which was now hidden.
I don’t sense anything dangerous, Xena whispered, but we both know we’re about to release the dark into the light.
Emily slowly opened the letter, feeling a slight throb in her fingers. Inside there was folded parchment that revealed a small oval fragment of a blackstone that fell heavily to her desktop. A message-stone. I remember seeing father send a message with a bluestone when he was looking for allies before the Dragon War.
Be careful with it, Xena warned. Emily hesitantly touched the stone, waiting for thunder to peel and lightning to flash, but there was only silence until a visual message sprang into her mind. Closing her eyes, she focused on the scene. Let me watch too, Xena urged. Emily allowed Xena into the vision. A man with a long, heavy, black wool cloak stood before her. A hood was pulled over his head, and his features were hidden in the shadows, but she could just make out a grim countenance on pale lips. His aura did not project across the display, but Emily was certain he was a magician.
“I am Iscar, the son of Samil,” the dark hooded figure began to speak while images of the Dragon War began to take substance around him. “If you had allowed my families’ attempt at unifying Acacia, none of the deaths in the last war would have occurred.” Iscar set his strong jaw. “You are responsible. Emily Dalton. You are the murderer of countless Acaceans including my father.” Natural disasters causing the destruction of Earth slowly began to replace the images of war. The horrifying scenes floated and swirled around Iscar and a contemptuous smile formed on his thin lips. “The time has come for the final battle and I’ve chosen this planet for our conflict. You can either sit back and watch it be destroyed, or you can call your Acacean warriors to Earth so I can eliminate you, your dragon supporters, and your allies all at once.” His mouth continued to curl upwards, until a sneer contorted his face. “A colossal war on this planet is approaching, and you need to decide if you want to take part in the battles ahead.” The dark cloak supported by his broad shoulders barely moved as he spoke. “Once I control Earth, Acacia will be next.” The images whirling around Iscar abruptly ended and he stood alone in a field of pitch black. “This world will soon go dark. Are you willing to stand up and attempt to save it?” Iscar’s image disappeared and only darkness remained.
Emily took a slow, deep breath, hoping to quell the acid rising in her throat. This is what I feared. She felt drained and exhausted. His message was like a horror movie that had blurred the lines with reality.
You are not the cause of death and destruction, Xena whispered. Samil and Iscar are to blame. Xena started reviewing the images again. Now we have proof to support our suspicions. We also now have a shadowy figure to associate with Iscar.
Do you think that was truly him? Emily rubbed her eyes in an attempt to scrape the images of death from her mind. He’s dramatic. Her pulse was hammering away at her temples. I didn’t think the son of Samil would reveal himself in such a manner.
That was him, Xena confirmed, sniffing the magestone again and sending Emily a faint smell of something disturbingly repulsive. I think rather he’s cold and calculating. Xena finished her review. His suggestions for you to call across allies from Acacia must be a trap, but he hopes it will become our only option to save Earth.
We need to continue with our own plans, attempting to locate him before his war on Earth begins. Emily set her jaw with determination.
Are you ready to return to Acacia? Xena stared at her questioningly.
Right now, I think it’s our best option. Emily carefully put the blackstone fragment back in its envelope, so she could show the message-stone to Hadrian and her father. She left her room and went down the stairs in a daze. The two walked outside the house and Emily began to stretch on the rough brown grass with an inner determination beginning to build. The air was cold, and Emily could see small amounts of steam rising in the air from her breath, like a banner of war being raised.
I hope we will soon be back to the warmth and the soft green grass of Acacia, Xena whispered.
Even in the midst of the impending destruction of the Earth, Emily also felt some solace in knowing she would return to the planet of her birth. She had made a decision, and she now knew her enemy and his name was Iscar. I will stop him, she vowed. A chilled breeze blew in her face, whistling through the trees, and she slowly lost track of time as she flowed into her tai chi exercises, day-dreaming of her parallel world. Xena waited for Emily to finish. Her ears were lifted, listening. Emily completed her sequences and picked up the small backpack that carried her fins, snorkel, cap, goggles, water-bottle, and towel. Any danger around? She calmed her mind and listened for any
information from her ki. There was nothing she could sense.
Xena sniffed the air, sending across the smells of grass, sage and the faintest whiff of a hawk high above sailing on the wind. The sweet, pleasing smells of nature overcame the lingering putrescence of Iscar. Nothing, Xena echoed, but a cold front is blowing in. Life had changed. Emily was going to have to be much more cautious when leaving her house.
They left the yard in synchrony, jogging on the asphalt road toward the community pool. The pool was only several miles away and was heated all year for the high school swimmers who used it in the morning. All of her friends now trained in the water, but this was gold team practice. Emily and Elizabeth were on the most challenging team. Emily let the currents of air wash over her body, noticing the touch on her skin elicited more input to her mind. Her senses were stronger, her magic was intensifying. The two jogged at a steadily increasing pace, and Emily nodded to several of Hadrian’s men observing her from their vehicles in their tight web of protection.
If we’re becoming more powerful on Earth, so is Iscar, Xena thought.
If Iscar attacks us with an army of warriors and half-deads here on Earth, I’m not sure if we would stand a chance. Emily sighed, hoping Hadrian’s men were well-trained. She studied individuals in her neighborhood as she jogged, looking for signs of auras, hoping no one else would begin to change. She saw friends from school on bikes and longboards, adults out jogging. No auras. Then, just before she arrived at the pool, she felt the hair on the back of her neck begin to rise and her ki warned her, red magicians. She whirled around to assess the approaching individuals, inwardly groaning in shock.
Delores has an aura, Xena growled, and so does her father. A faint, but unmistakable red aura flashed before Emily’s eyes in an unusual formation with wavering fringes of a red glow. The auras were weak, and they had only several seconds of assessment before they dissipated. Both auras suggested confidence, strong-will and passion. How many people on Earth are going to change?
