The Chronicles of William Wilde Boxset 1

by Davis Ashura

  “At least not to a physician or a troll,” Jessira said.

  Travail barked laughter. “I think I’ll like you.”

  Rukh cocked his head. “You remind of someone I knew.”

  “Li-Choke,” Jessira said.

  Rukh laughed. “Yes,” he agreed.

  Travail’s brows lifted as he awaited a further explanation, but as usual with those two, none was forthcoming.

  “You’ll get used to their mysterious pronouncements,” Serena said to Travail.

  “I’ll call the others and let them know we’re ready,” William said. He pulled the satellite phone out of his satchel and dialed Jake. After a few seconds of conversation, he hung up. “We have half an hour to reach the anchor line,” he said.

  “Mr. Zeus, Travail, and Serena will stay close to me,” Rukh said. “Fiona and William will go with Jessira.”

  “Are you going to make us invisible?” Travail asked.

  “It’s called a Blend,” Jessira said. “And yes, it will make us invisible, but it has its limits. It only extends a few yards around us, and I believe the unformed can see through a Blend to a certain extent.”

  “A handy trick,” Travail mused.

  Rukh sourced his lorethasra—a hint of iron—and he, Travail, and Serena momentarily disappeared from view.

  Jessira sourced her lorethasra as well—a mountain stream in her case—and Rukh, Travail, and Serena reappeared. They set off, traveling along a narrow trail that followed the spiny edge of a rocky ridge before taking a steep descent into a valley. From there, they crossed a rushing stream, stepping from stone to stone and staying relatively dry. On the far side of the water, they ascended again, this time a gentle slope. Their path eventually joined with the trail William had taken when he’d first arrived to Sinskrill as a prisoner, and several minutes later, they reached the anchor line.

  “There it is.” Serena pointed.

  Atop a small rise, a waist-high ring of stones surrounded an empty meadow of grass about seventy-five yards in diameter. Sinskrill’s mountains rose to the north and east, while a dense, evergreen forest surrounded the field on all sides, except to the south. There, along the shores of Lake White Sun, a break amongst the stones, one wide enough for a wagon opened onto a trail that eventually led to the Servitor’s Palace.

  William and the others huddled in the trees near the rugged path and waited. Minutes later, twenty or more mounted mahavans thundered toward the anchor line. The Servitor rode at their head. The moment they reached the field, the mahavans tumbled from their saddles, armed and ready.

  “They’re likely trying to save the old man,” the Servitor called to his mahavans from no more than thirty feet away. “Save one of the magi for interrogation. I want to know how the old man got free.”

  “Yes, my Lord,” the mahavans said in unison.

  The Servitor motioned, and a line cut the air. It rotated, and a doorway thirty feet across, wider than any anchor line William had ever seen, split reality. A bell tolled, and a rainbow bridge opened.

  As one, fifteen mahavans leapt onto the rainbow bridge. Their forms stretched for an instant before they snapped forward and disappeared from view.

  The Servitor stood with only seven mahavans before the still-open anchor line.

  William beamed in triumph at Serena. That many they could easily evade, especially with Rukh’s and Jessira’s Blends.

  Rukh made to rise but Jessira clutched his sleeve. “Hold. Look in the trees.”

  Nine owls perched along a single branch. An odd grouping.

  “Unformed,” Jessira said. “I don’t think they’ve seen us yet.”

  William silently cursed. Seven mahavans and nine unformed against their seven. And the unformed could see through a Blend.

  Damn it! Would this ever get easy?

  “Time to find out if you’re as good with that sword as rumor states,” Mr. Zeus said to Rukh.

  The other man’s features became flat and inscrutable. “Do your part and we’ll do ours.”

  Mr. Karllson looked up from his watch. “It’s time,” he announced. He, Lien, and Mrs. Karllson climbed aboard the bus.

  Jake exhaled heavily. “Here goes nothing,” he muttered as he climbed into the driver’s seat of the Jackaroo. He keyed the engine to life, and waited for Jason and Daniel to climb inside before shifting the vehicle into gear.

  Jake drove a car-length behind Mr. Karllson’s bus. A quarter-mile later, he felt it when they entered the saha’asra. The vague sense of unease and general achiness he’d experienced in the Far Beyond lifted, and his breathing came easier.

  “That’s better,” Jason said from the passenger seat.

  “I’d forgotten how off I always felt in the Far Beyond,” Daniel said, leaning forward from his spot in the middle row.

  “You guys felt like that the whole time you were waiting on William?” Jake asked.

  “What we do for friendship,” Jason said with a sigh.

  “You’ll never get me to do that again,” Daniel vowed.

  “But you’ll risk your life for people you don’t know?” Jake asked.

  Daniel shrugged. “Call me stupid.”

  “Hey, Stupid, pass me the canteen. I’m thirsty,” Jason said.

  Daniel smacked him in the back of the head.

  “Hey!” Jason complained.

  Jake smiled without real humor. He was too wound up to relax.

  Seconds later they reached the saha’asra’s anchor line, an area before a semi-circular ring of broken, red-stone towers. Some of them slumped against one another as if they were tired friends, and the wind moaned amongst them, sounding like a groaning, old man.

  The bus halted, and Jake parked the Jackaroo six feet behind it. The vehicles sat at a slight angle to the anchor line, forming a V-shape.

  “You guys ready?” Jason asked.

  “Guess we’ll find out,” Daniel answered.

  The three of them climbed out of the Jackaroo and hid behind its bulk, on the side opposite from the anchor line. Lien and Mr. and Mrs. Karllson did the same behind the bus.

  They waited. And waited.

  Minutes crawled by, but nothing happened.

  Jake’s fists unconsciously clenched and unclenched. His jaw tightened.

  Jason nudged him. “Relax.”

  Jake nodded. Staying edgy wouldn’t help. He exhaled and breathed out some of his tension as he shook out his hands.

  “I guess the mahavans haven’t noticed us yet,” Daniel whispered.

  “They have to ride all the way from the Servitor’s Palace,” Jake said. “It’ll probably take them half an hour.”

  “In that case, anyone have a deck of cards?” Daniel asked.

  Jake smiled briefly.

  More time crept past, and still nothing.

  Where were those damn mahavans?

  Jake eased the cramping in his calves by sitting fully on the ground and settling his back against the Jackaroo.

  The late afternoon sun hid behind a bank of clouds, and an intermittent breeze carried the scent of moisture.

  They continued to wait.

  “What’s taking them so long?” Lien asked. “Don’t they know we’re here?”

  “Or perhaps they don’t care,” Mr. Karllson said.

  “They care,” Jake said. “I—” He halted.

  The air rippled. Jake sat up. The anchor line would open soon.

  “Here they come,” Jason said.

  All of them sourced lorethasra and braided to the saha’asra’s repulsive lorasra. Jake shoved down his nausea at the sewage taste. Everyone also drew their pistols. They wouldn’t work on Sinskrill, but maybe they would here.

  For Jake, the cold steel in hand made the situation all the more real. He swallowed. He wasn’t sure he could actually shoot anyone. Fight them off, sure. But kill them? He didn’t know.

  He glanced at Jason and Daniel. They seemed equally unsure of themselves.

  Jake closed his eyes and forced himself to foc
us on what was needed. Just like a football game. He imagined the moves playing out in his mind. The mahavans would come through the anchor line. He’d drain the lorasra around them. Next, he’d empty his pistol and hope to pick off at least one of the mahavans. After that, he’d see.

  Jake opened his eyes. The doubts and fears remained, but he was ready.

  The anchor line opened with a bell-tone of doom. Fifteen mahavans surged onto the saha’asra.

  Jake froze. So many?

  The roar of pistols snapped him out of his fear. Only Mr. and Mrs. Karllson had fired.

  Jake shook off his shock. He drained the lorasra all around the mahavans. Adrenaline pumped. He shot wildly and within seconds he’d emptied his pistol’s magazine.

  Jake peeked over the hood of the Jackaroo and cursed. The mahavans had thrown up earthen shields. None of them were down. His bullets had hit nothing but dirt. Magic alone would decide the outcome of today’s battle.

  “Remember. We only have to hold,” Mr. Karllson yelled. “So hold!”

  Jake took heart from Mr. Karllson’s words and roared a challenge at the mahavans. “Come on!”

  The mahavans split into three groups of five and formed a perimeter of earthworks several yards in front of the still-open anchor line. From behind their bulwarks, they sent a hurricane-force wind at the Jackaroo. The vehicle threatened to tip over, and Jake braced it with a braid of Earth.

  “I thought you drained the saha’asra,” Daniel shouted over the roar of fire and wind.

  A series of explosions rippled the ground around and under the vehicles. Dirt blasted in all directions.

  “I did,” Jake shouted back. “They’ve got nomasras.”

  “Well, drain them, too,” Daniel said.

  “I can’t. No one can.”

  Daniel cursed, but Jake had no time to listen. The lorasra had slowly filled in near the earthworks, and he drained it again. Maybe if he kept at it, the mahavans’ nomasras would eventually fail.

  “We need to flank them!” one of the mahavans shouted.

  Jake startled. He recognized that voice. Adam Paradiso. Serena’s Isha.

  “Kill them all!” another mahavan said.

  Jake recognized that voice, too. Dalton the Hunter. The mahavans who had captured him and William.

  Jake snarled. He’d always vowed to pay those two back for what they’d done to him. Today, he’d finally get a chance to keep his promise. He peered around the front fender of the Jackaroo, trying to find Adam and Dalton.

  He grew so caught up in searching for the two mahavans that he didn’t see the line of fire hurled at him until the last instant. It roared like a blast furnace as it skimmed along the ground. Jake dove out of the way. The fire nearly took his legs out at the ankles, and he quickly doused his smoking pants.

  “Fall back!” Mr. Karllson said. “The vehicles aren’t enough cover.”

  Jake hunched away from the Jackaroo. Dirt clouded the air. Cracks wide enough to swallow a person carved the earth.

  Another series of blasts ripped the ground.

  Oh shit!

  Jake called up a shield of earth. Pellets of dirt from the explosions shot at him like bullets. He ducked low behind his barrier.

  “We can’t stay here!” Jason said. “They’ll kill us.”

  Jake glanced to where Daniel’s father, Mrs. Karllson, and Lien had called up a semicircular wall of earth that rippled as it followed their slow retreat.

  “Fall back like Mr. Karllson,” Jake said.

  He, Jason, and Daniel pulled up a similar wall of earth that kept pace with them. At a distance of twenty feet from the Jackaroo, they halted alongside Mr. and Mrs. Karllson. There, they formed a series of overlapping earthworks, similar to what the mahavans fought behind.

  One of the mahavans flung the Jackaroo and the bus out of the way with fists of Air. Both vehicles barked as their wheels scraped across the ground. The bus tipped, but miraculously remained upright. Its stressed metal creaked and groaned as it crashed down onto all four tires.

  The mahavans had a clear path forward.

  Jake unraveled a pulsing wave of water that had curled around his earthwork.

  Their plan to hold wasn’t working. They needed time to figure out how to fight the mahavans’ superior numbers. They needed to interrupt the mahavans’ vision.

  Jake had an idea. He ignored the danger and stood up. His heart pounded with fear at his exposure, but he remained focused on his plan. He lit the area in front of him. Strands of fire roped across his chest and down his arms. They blazed off his hands like a flamethrower. Jake set fire to the ground and transformed it to glass. Smoke billowed, providing a break in the fighting.

  The mahavans’ attack faltered, and the pause gave Jake time to think. “We don’t need to go toe-to-toe with them,” he shouted to the others. “There’s too many. We only have to distract them. Keep them busy.”

  “Watch out!” Mrs. Karllson shouted. She shoved Lien out of the way.

  A blackish, serrated snake—a mix of Air and Earth—arched high before curling down and clipping Daniel’s mother in the shoulder. She fell to a knee, and blood streamed down her arm.

  Mr. Karllson rushed to her side. “Trace!”

  “I’m fine,” Mrs. Karllson said. She slowly levered herself upright.

  Jake returned his attention to the mahavans.

  Jason removed the air from around a group of mahavans. It made it hard for the Sinskrill asrasins to breathe.

  It gave Jake another idea.

  While Jason distracted the mahavans, Jake set a bubble of water about their heads. Daniel did the same. The mahavans struggled to free themselves from drowning.

  Jake felt Lien and Mr. Karllson reach out with gripping cords of earth. They grabbed at arms, legs, heads, anything in reach, all of it nothing more than a distraction.

  Jake called up more lorethasra. He tore apart one of the mahavans’ defensive fortifications. His eyes widened when he saw no one huddling behind them.

  Where had they gone?

  “Watch out!” Jason said.

  Jake spied the missing group. While their brethren had fought against the magi, these five had moved into a flanking position.

  Jake spun to face the new threat. He shielded with a bubble of Air just as his earthwork exploded in his face. Jake flew backward and smashed into the ground. His ears rang. Blood and dirt distorted his vision. Cobwebs numbed his thoughts.

  Distantly, he heard shouting.

  Rukh gestured. “Stay close and remain quiet,” he hissed. “The Blends might hide us long enough to close with the unformed. We can attack before they realize we’re there.”

  Jessira held them back a moment longer. “Remember, battles aren’t a game of chess.” She forced them to meet her gaze. “Our only objective is to win.”

  Everyone nodded or grunted understanding.

  Rukh spoke to William. “Jessira and I will take the unformed. Lead the others against the mahavans, but drain the lorasra first.” He then turned to the others. “Everyone wait on William’s signal. Attack when he says. Understood?”

  Nods met his words.

  “Let’s roll.”

  They set off at a trot on the gently rising road leading to the anchor line. Their feet slapped against the ground. William kept his breathing smooth and even. Fear clawed at him, but he shoved it into the recesses of his consciousness.

  Win now, and the rest would be fine.

  The road flattened, and Rukh sped up. At a distance of sixty or seventy yards from the border to the field, William sourced his lorethasra as deeply as he could and drew forth Spirit. It coursed over his body like ivory ropes. Into it he sucked all the lorasra before him, extending his reach to the mahavans.

  William felt as if he’d imbibed sin. Nausea rose. He flushed the foulness away, pouring it from from his hands and into the nearby ground in a red-tinged, golden stream only he and Fiona could see.

  “I still can’t do that,” the old raha’asra mut
tered.

  The mahavans startled. “My Lord . . .” one of them said, his voice carrying across the meadow.

  “I felt it, too,” the Servitor said. “Prepare yourselves.” William saw the Servitor’s grip tighten on Shet’s Spear.

  Their horses caught onto their anxiety and shifted about.

  The unformed owls roosting on the single branch screeched as one. Their heads swiveled, focusing on William and the others. They continued screeching even as they leapt to the ground. The owls transformed into lean wolves before their paws hit.

  “Unformed!” one of the mahavans shouted. He hurled a line of fire that struck a wolf. The creature, huge and white-furred at the muzzle, growled as it swallowed the flames. The mahavans’ horses scattered, thundering across the meadow. William and the others stepped aside as they charged past and hurtled through the only exit.

  William scowled, not at the delay induced by the horses, but by the fact that the mahavans could still access lorasra. They had nomasras.

  “Hold!” the Servitor called to his mahavans. “All beings on Sinskrill belong to Lord Shet, including these creatures. They are mine to command, and our allies against the enemies who hide from your sight. But they shall hide no more.”

  He pointed with the Spear. A glowing, white bolt of Spirit, more powerful than anything William could ever conceive, struck at them. The mahavans shouted in alarm.

  “The Blends are ended!” Rukh and Jessira shouted at the same time. Their voices sounded strangely mechanical. “Attack!”

  Rukh and Jessira sprinted forward, quickly outpacing the rest of them. They entered the field and swung right, away from the mahavans on the far end of the meadow and toward the wolves. They ran with oddly timed gaits, and faces devoid of all emotion.

  Five wolves charged. The other four held back, as did the mahavans. Rukh and Jessira never hesitated. They met the unformed. One wolf transformed into an elephant. Rukh leapt upward, an impossibly high distance. He passed above the creature, and his sword lashed out, cleaved the creature’s trunk. The unformed screamed before plowing into the ground.

  William unconsciously slowed as he watched Rukh and Jessira fight.

  Rukh landed. His sword flashed again, faster than William could follow. He blocked tusks, stony arms, and razor-like claws. He became grace and skill forged into a killer.