The Chronicles of William Wilde Boxset 1

by Davis Ashura

  “Ready?” Rukh asked.

  Jessira nodded, and followed in Rukh’s shadow, keeping her Blend Linked to his. They crept along the perimeter of the bailey, careful to make no noise.

  Rukh slowed when they reached the barracks. He ducked lower, and they shuffled beneath several open windows. Jessira heard a crackling fire within, but fewer than a handful of snores.

  Odd. With the damp weather, the barracks should have been closed up tight. Unless . . .

  Jessira signaled, and Rukh nodded understanding.

  Some of the warriors within were awake. If they’d truly been asleep, there would have been more snoring.

  Jessira controlled her breathing and her heart rate. Despite the Blends hiding her and Rukh from prying eyes and ears, those inside the barracks might still sense the two of them hunched outside. As a result, she and Rukh made sure to slide past the barracks with a sound softer than a leaf drifting across the ground.

  Finally they reached the entrance to the prison, and Rukh halted.

  Jessira understood why.

  The door stood slightly ajar, and from behind it came the sounds of a hushed conversation.

  Rukh glanced at Jessira. She knew what he intended without him having to say it. The bond between them had taken time to restrengthen after their soul-wrenching journey to this world, but eventually it had. As always, they required few words to understand one another’s thoughts.

  She and Rukh slowly rose, and as one they quietly drew their swords. The blades made the faintest hiss as they left their scabbards. Jessira touched Rukh’s shoulder, indicating her readiness.

  He slammed the door open. A muffled sound echoed from within. Quick as a cobra, Rukh entered. Jessira came in behind him and swiftly shut the door.

  They stood in a narrow, dimly lit hallway. The dank odor of mold permeated the place. At the far end, a door stood ajar and several men lay slumped across a table.

  Rukh had already sheathed his sword. Two people huddled before him. One was an old woman, the other, Mr. Zeus. His hands clutched his nose. Blood flowed between his fingers and stained his beard red. He glared at the two of them.

  “You broke my nose,” Mr. Zeus accused, his voice muffled by his fingers. “This is Fiona, by the way.”

  “I’m sorry,” Rukh said, sounding contrite. “I didn’t know you were behind the door. I can Heal you if you like.”

  “Let me,” Jessira said. “You were never good at it.” She scabbarded her sword and took Mr. Zeus’ head in her hands.

  “Wait.” Mr. Zeus’ eyes widened in panic.

  Jessira didn’t allow him to draw away. She concentrated, and conducted more Jivatma. A surge of energy built within her and she let it out in a pencil-thin stream. It streaked like golden lightning, crackling as it left her hands and washed over and into Mr. Zeus.

  He arched onto his tiptoes, and his mouth opened in a silent scream.

  Fiona edged away from them. “What are you doing to him?” she asked in a tone filled with fear.

  “She healed me,” Mr. Zeus said, sounding amazed. He nudged his nose and broke into a broad grin. “There’s not even a touch of pain. How’d you do that?”

  “Another trick from our original home,” Rukh said. “How are you free? Serena told us you would be tortured to death.”

  “Serena? How is she?” Fiona broke in.

  Jessira smiled at the old woman. “You’ll see her soon enough.”

  Fiona seemed to stiffen her spine. “I’ll only believe that when I hold her in my arms.”

  Rukh eyed Mr. Zeus, his gaze intense and expectant. “What did they do to you after your capture?”

  The old man gave a brief account of what had occurred.

  “What about those jailers?” Jessira gestured to the men snoring down the hall. “How long will they sleep?”

  “Hours,” Mr. Zeus said. “I used a thick braid when Fiona and I broke out of our cells. They’ll be out until sometime in the afternoon.”

  Rukh smiled. “Then it’s a good thing we plan on leaving Sinskrill well before then.”

  “We should go,” Jessira suggested.

  “Yes,” Rukh agreed. “Follow close,” he instructed Mr. Zeus, “but leave me room to draw my sword.”

  “Wait,” Jessira said before Rukh opened the door.

  She doused the lanterns in the hall. Only then did Rukh ease open the door. He gestured, indicating the way was clear. Mr. Zeus followed him, next came Fiona, and then Jessira. She quietly shut the door upon exiting the prison.

  Jessira hunched low and stayed close behind Fiona. She kept her Blend tight as they skulked along the barracks. A few snores still emanated from within, no different from what she’d heard a few minutes earlier. Otherwise, the bailey remained empty. No hobnailed guards. Nothing but fog and drizzle.

  They inched their way toward the main gate. The same four guards stood watch. As they approached, an itch settled in Jessira’s mind. She felt someone’s gaze upon her.

  Rukh tilted his head in question, sensing her rising concern.

  She shrugged. She couldn’t see whoever it was.

  From somewhere overhead, an owl screeched. A flash of flickering, white wings, and the bird could briefly be seen, soaring amidst several clouds. Jessira frowned as she studied the creature. Something about its behavior bothered her.

  Her eyes widened.

  The owl flew in a circle, directly over their position. Even while it banked, its head remained locked upon where they stood. It could see them. The owl screeched again, louder this time and seemingly in alarm.

  An unformed. It had to be. Apparently they had some ability to see through a Blend.

  The barracks stirred.

  A voice shouted. “Beware! Attackers in the bailey! Close the gate.”

  Rukh cursed. “Run!”

  They sprinted toward the gate. Horns blared. Lights lit the bailey, banishing all shadows. The owl remained overhead, still screeching. Fiona drifted out of Jessira’s Blend, and one of the gate guards saw her. He shouted, drawing the attention of the others.

  Rukh punched the man as he passed, flooring him. Jessira gut-kicked another guard and followed up with a knee to his face. The guard crashed to the ground, unconscious. A third guard desperately blew a horn, eyes darting about, trying to locate the unseen attackers. Rukh struck him a blow to the chin, and he went down in a heap.

  Jessira went after the final guard, a woman. She was desperately trying to close the portcullis, but in her panic the chain kept slipping through her fingers. Jessira slammed the guard’s head into the alabaster wall. The woman’s eyes rolled, and she slumped.

  “That owl is going to be the death of us,” Jessira murmured to Rukh.

  It still screeched overhead.

  “Not tonight.” Rukh unlimbered his bow.

  A single shot, and the owl cried once before plummeting to the ground and landing like a wet sack.

  Jessira pulled Fiona into the protection of her Blend. “Stay closer next time,” she ordered.

  Horns continued to blow. Men and women poured out of the barracks. They couldn’t see Jessira and the others, but they knew their general location based upon the commotion.

  Arrows whistled past them. Jessira Shielded. She drew Fiona even closer. Several bolts slammed into her Shield. Green webbing sparked and crackled at the point of impact.

  “Who are you people?” Fiona demanded.

  “People who need to run,” Rukh answered.

  Guards from the walls raced down toward their position. Others from the barracks, armed and armored, sprinted toward the gate.

  Rukh flung Mr. Zeus over his shoulder. The old man squawked in outrage.

  Fiona backed a step from Jessira. “I can keep up.”

  Jessira shrugged, and took off after Rukh. Fiona pumped her thin arms as she struggled to keep her promise.

  Serena and William trekked a narrow trail north of the Great Way. Right now they had the path to themselves, but that would change when the s
ky to the east lightened. Wet leaves slapped at them, and puddles soaked their boots. Fog filled the hollows and limited visibility despite their lanterns. It clutched the world in a hush, except for the infrequent tree groaning in the wind, the clatter of branches clacking into one another, or the patter of rain striking the ground.

  William grimaced. “I hate this place.”

  “What’s wrong?” Serena asked.

  “Water down my neck.”

  Serena waited for further explanation but William said nothing more. “That’s it?” she asked. She expected him to have long since gotten used to the island’s clammy climate.

  “I’ve always hated the weather here,” William replied.

  “I like it,” Serena said. She felt an unaccountable need to defend Sinskrill, the island where she’d grown up.

  “Why?”

  Serena shrugged. Sinskrill wasn’t home, and while she had few fond memories from growing up here, she’d always miss the island’s mist and fog. She didn’t know why, and right now she didn’t care to explore the reasons. “I don’t know. I just do. Now be quiet. We need to push the pace if we want to get to Travail in time.”

  “You think Rukh and Jessira have reached the Servitor’s Palace already?” William asked.

  “Did you see how fast they moved?”

  “I saw,” William said. “How much farther do we have?”

  “Maybe another mile on this trail, and then we turn south. Three more and we should reach Travail’s field.”

  “About two hours?” William asked.

  Serena nodded. “Sounds about right.”

  They pressed on, and all the while they remained alert. For all they knew, mahavans might be scouting this area—several miles north of Village White Sun—and unfortunately, Serena and William didn’t have Rukh and Jessira’s trick of disappearing into thin air.

  Time slipped by in silence, but when they neared Travail’s home, a faint sound came to Serena. She frowned, unsure what she’d heard.

  “Did you hear that?” William asked.

  Serena nodded, and sourced her lorethasra. She ignored the sewer stench of Sinskrill’s lorasra and created a braid of Air. Sounds sharpened, and she focused on the location where she’d heard the worrisome sound.

  Her eyes widened. Oh, no.

  Padded paws. A number of them. And the panting of wolves.

  “Unformed wolves,” she whispered to William.

  “Where?” William spun in a circle, apparently searching for the creatures. Neither his voice nor his features held fear, only ready determination.

  “A hundred yards behind us,” Serena said.

  William scowled. “We have to run.” He pointed. “Travail’s field is right over that ridge. Maybe he’s there.”

  Something crashed through the forest toward them.

  “Run!” William shouted.

  They flicked their lanterns to greater brightness and raced for safety. William could have outstripped Serena, but he stayed by her side.

  Serena sourced her lorethasra more deeply and extracted threads of Fire, Air, Earth, and even Water. They hissed, rippled, and pulsed across her chest, torso, and arms. She sensed William sourcing as well, more powerfully than she could, all his Elements at the ready. He even held a thick cord of Spirit, something she couldn’t create. It twined about his forehead.

  Howls filled the woods.

  “Four.” Serena answered William’s unspoken question when he glanced her way.

  The forest ended, and an open field allowed them to sprint faster. They reached the rise, and their pace slowed as they climbed.

  Serena glanced back and wished she hadn’t. A brief break in the clouds allowed moonbeams to pour down. The light showed four unformed wolves, vague, dark shapes charging toward them. They would arrive in seconds.

  Serena created a braid of Fire and Air, and lofted it skyward. The world brightened under the light of her weave as the mist burned away for a distance of ten yards.

  William drew his bow and sent an arrow into the midst of the unformed. One of them yipped in pain and went down. It quickly rose, though and kept up the pursuit.

  Serena readied her sword. She hurled a line of fire into the center of the unformed, and watched dumbfounded as one of the creatures consumed it. She threw a wide fan of air that briefly battered the creatures back. Seconds later they came on again.

  From William’s hands blazed another line of fire. This one couldn’t be extinguished. It left a corpse in its wake.

  Three unformed to go.

  Serena caused a small tremor and managed to knock a wolf off its feet. A blast of air from William hurled it into the forest.

  The final two unformed closed ranks and attacked.

  Serena set herself next to William.

  An unformed wolf leapt for her throat, and Serena ducked. She barely evaded snapping teeth and spun about, desperately seeking to keep the animal in front of her.

  It transformed into an eagle and flew at her face.

  Serena ducked low. The eagle flew past. She sensed movement behind her. She rolled, and a gorilla smashed her sword aside.

  The unformed creature had transformed shape too quickly for her to react. Serena pulled back, needing distance.

  She faced a cape buffalo now. Serena called on earth and formed a tall, muddy shield. It barely blocked the goring horns. The pause gave her a chance to focus.

  A snake slithered over the earthen wall, but this time Serena was ready.

  A fist of air punched the snake into the sky. As expected, the unformed became a bird. Serena held the creature captive in a vice-grip of air and drowned it in a globe of water.

  Serena spun about, ready to aid William. He didn't require it. He finished his opponent, sliding a foot of steel into the heart of a lion.

  It was over.

  Serena offered William a relieved smile.

  “Well, that’s that,” he said, his grin as self-satisfied as his tone.

  From the corner of her eye, Serena glimpsed movement. A gray-muzzled wolf raced toward them. The one William had flung into the forest. Too fast to evade. Too close to avoid. Serena opened her mouth to cry warning.

  A shadow passed overhead. Something huge and horned.

  Travail.

  The troll landed before them. He caught the wolf by the throat mid-leap and hammered the creature into the ground.

  The unformed didn’t rise as its head flopped at an unnatural angle.

  “You choose odd traveling companions for your return to Sinskrill,” Travail noted.

  William sourced lorethasra and formed a block of Air right before his feet left the ground.

  Travail lifted him into the air and into his embrace as he rumbled laughter. “It is good to see you again, my friend.”

  William threw his arms around the troll’s neck. Travail’s wet fur tickled. William felt like a child with his feet dangling above the earth, but he didn’t care. “It’s good to see you, too.”

  Travail set him down and William searched for any changes. None were apparent. Travail remained huge, ten feet tall at a minimum with curling ram’s horns and a massive frame. His short, coal-black fur shed the rain as easily as a seal’s while water dripped from his long braids. A goatee covered his lantern-like jaw, and his thick features were split into a grin.

  “Hello, Travail,” Serena said with a formal dip of her head.

  “Hello to you as well,” Travail said with an equally formal bow from the waist. His face had grown serious.

  An instant later he grinned and drew her into a hug as well. Serena gave a startled yelp as Travail enveloped her in his arms.

  “Seeing you gives me hope for the people of Sinskrill,” he said when he set her down. “I am proud to know you. I see courage and compassion when I look at the soul of who you are.”

  Serena inhaled sharply. “Thank you,” she said, offering a brief smile.

  William could tell the troll’s words touched her.

  “It’s
been a long journey getting to this place,” she added.

  “Our journey isn’t over,” William said. “We need to get to Rock Hill.”

  Travail inclined his head in thought. “Perhaps on the way you can tell me your intentions.”

  As they traveled, William explained what they had planned.

  “You truly believe these friends of yours, Rukh and Jessira, can free Fiona and your friend from the Servitor’s prison?” Travail asked.

  “Once you meet them and see what they can do, you’ll know why I have such faith in them,” William said.

  None of them had much to say after that. Their hasty journey through the woods, gorse, and the uneven trail took all their attention, and an hour later they reached Rock Hill. They’d gotten there first, and while they waited on Rukh and Jessira, William and Serena told Travail of Arylyn. He had many questions.

  Several hours later, with the sun cresting the horizon and casting the world in a gloomy, gray light—a typical Sinskrill morning—an itch formed in the back of William’s mind.

  Someone was coming.

  He stared along the path leading to Rock Hill but frowned when he saw nothing untoward.

  “Someone approaches,” Travail said.

  “You sense it, too?” William asked.

  “I sense something,” Travail answered.

  “I don’t sense anything,” Serena said, sounding frustrated. Mint flavored the air as she sourced her lorethasra. “I don’t see anything, either.”

  Rukh, Jessira, Fiona, and Mr. Zeus blinked into existence at no more than thirty yards away.

  William smiled. They must have been Blended.

  Fiona gave a glad shout and sprinted the last few yards up the trail. She hugged Serena and William with a surprising fierceness. After a moment, she pushed herself free, her eyes shiny. “I can die happy now.”

  Mr. Zeus wore a broad grin, and he gave them brief hugs as well. “Rukh told me the plan’s changed,” he said, eyeing the troll in obvious fascination.

  William made introductions.

  “You two are beings I’ve never seen or read about,” Travail said to Rukh and Jessira. His voice rumbled in curiosity.

  “I suppose that makes us interesting?” Jessira asked.

  “Which isn’t something any of us should aspire to be,” Rukh noted.