No. The young man’s power was not like a Lord; it was stronger. Stronger than any of the Lords or Masters. He might be more powerful than Forerunner, though his power could be hard to measure. And yet, she felt something else as well. She couldn’t grasp it. For a moment, his power had seemed even greater, but now it didn’t. So strange.
The young man opened his mouth to speak, but Forerunner cried out first.
“There you are!”
“This might be the last thing I expected,” Marshal whispered to Victor as they approached the strange group of travelers.
Most of this group were women, and almost all of them wore simple white robes. It seemed an unusual choice for traveling apparel. Their leader, a man, boasted even stranger clothing: beige trousers and a multi-colored tunic with long sleeves that hung from his wrists. A crimson-trimmed purple cloak hung from his broad shoulders. Long, pale hair framed a face whose skin tone looked darker than the others’, but not by much. Or did it? Marshal blinked.
“Who are these people?” Victor said.
Marshal’s eyes flickered to the last three members of the group, the only others not dressed in white robes. They all seemed to be around his age with dark skin, like Topleb. Ch’olan, maybe? The one other male dressed in more casual clothes, but leaned on a crutch. Was he missing part of a leg? His face also looked bruised.
One of the remaining two women wore robes, but blue not white. Did that make her some kind of leader to the others? He thought her long brown hair quite… lovely. She said something to the young man beside her, but kept her eyes focused on Marshal. Her attention made him uncomfortable. He wouldn’t have noticed her other companion if she hadn’t been so extraordinary.
She wore a calf-length skirt, but no shirt. Instead, she had cloth wrapped around her upper chest, leaving her stomach bare. Two green feathers hung from a tight braid on the left side of her rounded face, which had twin black stripes painted on either cheek. She carried a round shield, painted orange with three green stripes, and had drawn a short sword from her belt.
“Is she barefoot?” Victor whispered. The other members of the curse squad came up behind them. Marshal opened his mouth to suggest they wait when the strangely-clad man cried out in a voice that sent tiny vibrations across Marshal’s skin: “There you are!”
The man rushed forward. Marshal held out his hand in greeting, but the man shoved past him. Victor instinctively drew his sword.
“My friend! I’ve missed you so much!” the strange man said, again with the strange voice.
He placed his hands on Wolf’s shoulders.
“Wolf?” Marshal stared at the two of them.
Wolf lifted his face and looked up at the strange man. “Do… do you know me?” he asked.
“Know you? I’ve been searching everywhere for you! But I need you to do something right away.”
“Wait just a minute—” Marshal started.
“Wake up!” The strange man placed one of his hands on top of Wolf’s head. Power and light erupted from him. The other squad members were thrown back several feet. Marshal and Victor managed to stay upright, but both took a couple of steps backward.
Marshal’s mind struggled to comprehend the turn of events. This man was using some sort of magic, far different from his own, a magic made of heat and light. A magic against which Marshal had no defense.
And neither did Wolf. He screamed.
“What are you doing?” Victor shouted. He took a step toward Wolf and his attacker.
The flat of a sword blade rested against his chest. “Do not interfere.” It was the barefoot warrior girl.
Wolf’s scream flailed against his ears, painful in its volume. He almost believed more than one person—or animal—was screaming.
“Out of my way.” Victor pushed the sword blade away. It came back, this time pointed at him.
He lifted his own sword. The girl raised an eyebrow, but did not back down. They stood for a moment, Wolf still screaming, looking at each other.
The white-robed women streamed down, all coming between Wolf and the other squad members.
“I do not want to fight you,” Victor said. He feinted a stab at her exposed stomach. For the first time, he noticed she wore a bandage on her side.
She dodged easily, then took a simple slash at him. “Then don’t.”
“Your friend is hurting my friend. I have to stop it.”
“This must happen.”
“Woman, stand aside!” He made a more aggressive attack. She caught it on her shield, then countered, forcing him to dodge back.
“Man, I will not.” Yet she cast a quick glance back at Wolf and the other man. She didn’t seem to have convinced herself.
“I do not want to hurt you!” Victor spun and found himself blocked again.
“You would not be able to.” This time, Victor used his own sword to block hers. He tried to slip up under it to attack again, but her shield came down just in time to stop him.
“You’re that sure, huh?” A vibration ran through his hand. He didn’t know what was going on here, and desperately wanted to help Wolf. But at the same time, he didn’t want his battle rage to take over with so many potential innocents around.
They exchanged several more thrusts, blocks, parries. She fought well. Very well. At least the equal of the Remavian Guard he had fought, if not better. He almost didn’t notice that she kept trying to maneuver him further away from Wolf.
He stepped back and took his flail from his belt. The old one. He still hadn’t made up his mind.
“Interesting weapon choice,” she said. “Are you any better with it than you are with a sword?”
“Let’s find out.” The flail began to spin and Victor moved forward.
At Wolf’s scream, Marshal started forward.
“Wait,” said a voice, and the one-legged man hobbled in front of him. “Let it happen.”
“Get out of my way.”
He shook his head. “No, you don’t understand. He’s helping him.”
“You call that help?” Out of the corner of his eye, Marshal saw Victor engage with the warrior girl. And the other women rushed down into the way too.
“Please. Just wait a moment.”
Marshal let his power flow out of his feet, rumbling through the ground around them. “Move.”
His opponent’s hand began to glow. What was this? “You aren’t the only one with power,” he said. He drew in the air and created a kind of shield between them. It appeared almost made of golden light. In any other circumstance, Marshal would be fascinated.
But now it only made him angry. Wolf was in danger, hurting. He would not lose another squad member. Not one more.
Marshal grabbed the shield and let his own power escape. The glowing disc shattered into thousands of pieces that dissolved in the air as they fell. His opponent looked stunned.
Marshal shoved him out of the way. He staggered and fell, leaving the path open to Wolf.
But it was too late.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
DRAVID LOST HIS balance from the shove and hit the ground. He tried to grab at the scar-faced man’s ankle as he stepped past, but missed.
Then Seri. Beautiful Seri. She came out of nowhere, rushing in front of Forerunner, hands out.
“Stop, all of you!” she cried. “This is not what it looks like!” Dravid heard her, but he doubted very many others did, over Wolf’s screaming, the clash of swords (Ixchel?), and all the other voices from both sides yelling at each other.
And then Dravid’s worst nightmare unfolded in front of him. One of the ragged warriors, the Ch’olanese one, shoved one of the women aside, bellowed a war cry, and used some kind of tool to launch a spear straight at Forerunner.
Except Seri was there. In the way. He didn’t see her until too late. Dravid could see the horror on his face as his spear struck this beautiful woman in the gut.
Her mouth and eyes went wide. She clutched at the spear and went down. No. No. No!
&n
bsp; Dravid screamed. The scar-faced man caught Seri as she fell, holding her gently.
Ixchel dropped her own sword and ran.
Forerunner let the strange man fall in the same moment, his hands still glowing.
Dravid scrambled to Seri’s side as the scar-faced man knelt down, still holding her. So much blood! Her robes turned purple with it. How could this be? Not Seri. She gasped, over and over, struggling to breathe.
“Seri! Seri!”
The scar-faced man looked up at Dravid, tears in his eyes. “This wound is mortal,” he said.
Ixchel seized Forerunner by his tunic and yanked him toward Seri. “Heal her!” she shouted at him.
Forerunner looked drained, but horrified. “I cannot,” he said. “My power is exhausted.”
“Then show me!” Dravid said. “Maybe my power can do it!”
Forerunner shook his head. “No, you’re not ready.”
Dravid’s hand glowed and he reached out, but hesitated. Without knowing what to do, he might only make it worse. But he couldn’t lose her!
“You cannot do it,” Forerunner said. “But he can.” He pointed.
Dravid looked up. The man Forerunner came to find stood up. At first, he looked the same as he had before: a disheveled, skinny man with long gray-streaked hair. But then he began to change. His eyes glowed, and his entire body began to shift, to grow. Muscles expanded, splitting his already-torn clothing in multiple places. He rose several inches taller. His hair, so ragged and tangled before, grew even longer, smoothing and transforming into a beautiful mix of brown, gray, and white.
“Wolf?” said one of the other warriors.
The one who had thrown the spear stood ashen-faced, wringing his hands. “She got in the way,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean…”
“My friend!” Forerunner called to the one called Wolf. “Your power is needed, right away!”
Seri’s whole body shook. “I think it’s too late,” said the scar-faced man.
“No!” Dravid tried to take her away from him. “It can’t be!”
The Wolf approached slowly. Too slowly. Ixchel reached out to grab him, but pulled back immediately, holding her hand as if it burned. He looked down at Seri, the scarred man, and Dravid. His eyes seemed made of the same substance as Forerunner’s magic, glowing and golden. They were too bright to look at for long, and Dravid turned his attention back to Seri. Her breath came out in one long exhale, and her hand started to fall away.
Wolf bent down and reached out his hands. One touched Seri’s head and the other her stomach where the spear still protruded and blood continued to flow. “I will permit this,” he said in a voice resonating with strange power. “But there will be a cost later.” He turned to look at Dravid.
“I will pay it! Help her!”
Wolf’s hands glowed. “Remove the spear,” he said. The blond warrior stepped over, grasped the spear’s shaft, and yanked it free. More blood exploded from the wound, but Seri did not react. Was she already gone?
The glow spread around Seri’s wound. It grew brighter until Dravid had to close his eyes. Just like when Forerunner healed him. But would it be enough?
Seri opened her eyes. What a strange dream she had… And then the memory of pain rushed back. The impact in her stomach like a powerful kick. The unbelievable agony that spread out from it. Losing her breath. And then… nothing. The pain vanished. And…
She looked up into glowing eyes. This was the man Forerunner had come to find. A beautiful man, but something more than that. As she stared, she understood. He wasn’t a man. He resembled those six beings she had seen in the Otherworld.
And in that moment, she saw everything. Her vision exploded with light. Everywhere light. Overwhelming. Intoxicating. Glorious. Her star-sight had returned.
The man standing above her glowed with power, incredible power like the ones in the Otherworld. She found herself drawn to him in ways she couldn’t explain. Behind him, Forerunner stood, his power diminished greatly, but still there. And Dravid, dear Dravid, kneeling beside her, power glowing inside of him as well.
She turned her head, realizing someone else held her. Someone with power. She looked up into brown eyes surrounded by horrible scars. Eyes that stared at her with almost as much concern as Dravid. But behind them… she saw power. Power like the Masters and Lords, yet more. Power that drew her even more than the strange man who had healed her. It was the power of Antises. She had found him. For in that moment, she knew. He wasn’t just the boy she saw in the Otherworld. He was the lost King. He had to be.
“You…” she whispered. Both Dravid and the young man bent down to hear her. “You’re the one. The one I’ve been looking for.” At his look of confusion, she added, “You fought Curasir.”
With those words, she felt drained beyond understanding. She heard Dravid say her name. But she could not reply. Her eyes drifted back and she lost herself again.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
TALINIR REACHED FOR the next ledge, but kept his eyes low. The steeper their path grew, the harder it became to avoid looking at the stars.
“Shouldn’t be far now,” Janaab called from above.
“What shouldn’t?” Talinir couldn’t keep the annoyance from his voice. His human companion continued to be vague about their destination.
He pulled himself up and found Janaab waiting for him. They stood on a relatively flat surface high above the wastelands. About a dozen feet away, another sharp incline rose another eight feet before leveling out again. Janaab pointed toward it.
“I think we can get a look just over that ridge,” he said, his voice lower. “We might want to keep it quiet now.”
Talinir raised an eyebrow, then strode to the next ridge. In the primary world, he would have had to climb it. Here, he could look directly over the top. Height had its advantages. He bent and helped Janaab clamber up to sufficient height to see as well.
At first, he saw nothing unusual. The mountains opened into a much larger flat area here. In the distance, they resumed climbing higher than Talinir cared to climb. But then he noticed the base of the next ascension. Were those… buildings?
A simple bit of Eldanim magic let him focus his eyes for a longer distance. Definitely buildings. The architecture made him think of a blend of Intal Eldanir’s decorative flourishes and the strength of Ch’olan’s masonry. The buildings appeared well lit and he could see figures moving about between them.
“Is this where the Durunim live?” But even as he asked the question, he knew the answer. Those people, whoever they were, could not be Durunim or Eldanim. They lacked the lengthened proportions all his people possessed here in the Starlit Realm. They seemed closer to humans, though still taller and stronger.
“The third race,” Janaab said. “Or at least that’s my belief. Humans live in one world. These people live here. And you live in between.” He continued to keep his voice quiet.
“But who are they?”
Janaab shrugged. “I know they are not to be trifled with. Their magic is innate, like yours, but far more powerful. At least the ones I’ve seen are.”
“I must learn more.”
Janaab shook his head. He let himself slide down the incline to the previous surface. “They’re dangerous, I tell you. We’re probably already tempting trouble by staying here this long.”
Talinir opened his mouth to ask why. At that moment, a pair of heavy feet landed hard right in front of him, kicking up dust into his eyes. He took a moment to refocus and looked up.
A man looked down at him. But not a man. He stood at least seven and a half feet tall. His clothes, strangely enough, resembled the nobility of Mandiata: a bright, full-length tunic topped with colorful beaded necklaces. His musculature rippled beneath his shirt, his skin glowing with a golden power Talinir had never seen.
“Come to spy on us, Eldani?” The stranger’s voice boomed around him, vibrating with power. He projected magic through his voice? “You would do better to bow at our feet!”
Before Talinir could react, the stranger grabbed his forearm and yanked him up onto the upper surface. His skin burned where the hand contacted it. He pulled away and stared in horror. Most of his forearm had turned into the color-absorbing blackness of the Durunim.
The stranger laughed at his reaction. “Now you know the truth. Welcome!” He spread his arms wide. “Come. Worship us. It is what you were made for!”
“Talinir! Dive backwards. Now!” Janaab’s voice broke through to him, also vibrating with magic, with command. Talinir launched himself backward without hesitation.
Below, he saw Janaab thrust one hand forward. The cliff edge below the stranger exploded in rock and debris, knocking him off his feet. At the same time, he threw the other hand up toward Talinir. The warden felt waves of vibrational power rolling over his body, slowing his descent. With plenty of time, he twisted into a ball, then straightened out with his feet facing down. Janaab released him, and he landed with no more impact than if he had hopped a few feet.
“They know we’re here now. Run!”
Once again, Talinir did not question his companion. They slid down the next ridge and hurried down the mountain as fast as they could. Behind them, Talinir heard the booming laughter again, followed by shouts he couldn’t make out.
Janaab released another vibratory shockwave behind them. It might make a temporary solution, but if he did that too much, he might bring the whole mountain down on top of them. Talinir doubted whether his companion’s fearsome power could daunt their pursuers. That probably explained why he had struck at the cliff instead of the stranger himself.
Janaab said something, but Talinir couldn’t make it out over the sounds of rocks falling. It might have included the word “hide.”
He risked a glance back. He could see glowing figures in the distance, but couldn’t tell how close they followed.
Janaab scrambled down another incline, nearly plunging over a steep cliff. “Over there!” he shouted and pointed. Talinir looked and saw a cave mouth. He rushed to it, followed by Janaab.
Until All Bonds Are Broken Page 26
