by JD Franx
Kael tried to follow the power like she said, but he couldn’t concentrate enough to even find it. With his mind muddled by psychological damage and his body in constant pain, focus and concentration were fleeting qualities the last few months.
“I can’t,” he said, as he gasped and opened his eyes. “I can’t concentrate. I’m sorry.” She smiled at his failure as if it didn’t matter.
“It is all right,” she said. “Even with help and practise, it will take time. These are things usually taught at a young age because it takes decades to master even the simplest magic. I will help and you will keep trying. Knowing where and how the power flows through your body will help you to control it. A wizard’s cruus, or crua in your case, connects your nervous system to the magic of the world, and that is what allows you to manipulate it. Being a slave I know of no release words of the magical language for offensive magic. It is strictly forbidden. Council wizards call it VosHain.”
“The language?” Kael asked, puzzled.
“Yes. VosHain is the language that releases a wizard’s magic into the real world. It shapes that magic to the words used. You know the words to the spell Gabriel created that allowed you to cast lightening. To cast a fire-based spell, the words would differ. Hopefully Gabriel’s spell will be enough. We cannot risk him teaching us more. All, if we can unlock your magic.”
“All right,” he said, “I’ll try, but that spell wasn’t working right before we were captured. It either backfired and nearly killed me or it sputtered and died every time.”
N’Ikyah closed her eyes, as if deep in thought.
Several minutes passed before she opened them. Looking down at him, she asked, “Did your underworld magic ever work?”
“Yes, it did. It worked when I spoke the words to Lycori’s, sorry, Gabriel’s lightning spell that she taught me. Black and purple lightning shot from my hands and destroyed a large block of granite. It quit working after that Zakair stabbed me.”
With a light touch, N’Ikyah traced her fingers down the large welt of scar tissue that ran from below his ribcage to his mid-stomach and then bisected the thinner, smoother scar from Sythrnax’s bladed staff. “This is where it happened? Above the one I healed when you first arrived?” When he nodded, she continued. “This is a mortal wound, Kael. Only the Fae could heal such an injury. Probably not even this one. It is so severe that if it were made by demonic magic, I could not have saved you without grafting my life force to yours. How did you live? Let alone heal with no permanent damage?”
Kael didn’t know quite how to answer her.
“I’m not sure. It was like something was guiding me, or showing me how to heal myself. I was so weak, I barely remember, as if someone else was doing it and I was watching. I must have passed out after that. Once I woke, that same lightning spell backfired and almost fried me alive, but my magic sight still worked fine and I was able to operate the magical locks inside Jasala’s tow…”
N’Ikyah’s eyes grew wide as she shook her head and pressed her hand to his lips so fast she almost slapped him. As she bent over, he felt her warm breath brush against his ear. “Do not ever speak aloud that you were there. The Dead Sisters have been trying to find a way into the Forsaken Lands for five thousand years. They covet Jasala’s secrets more than your own because of the destruction she wrought. If they find out you were there, the entire coven will turn their attention to what you know of that cursed place. Please tell me you understand. You may not believe so, but things can get much worse here, Kael, and that is the fastest way.”
“Okay,” he murmured, “not a word, and I’ll tell Lycori not to mention it as well.”
N’Ikyah sighed a breath of relief and smiled before she carried on. “Good. Now I cannot guess what might have happened to your magic. If you did heal yourself, you may have done something wrong and disrupted the flow of magic through your body. If you did not heal yourself, then perhaps the Gods chose to help you that day. If it is so, then perhaps failed magic is the price you paid for their help. Only they know which and whether the problems with your magic would be permanent.”
“I doubt the gods healed me just so I’d end up here,” he scoffed. “But thank you, N’Ikyah, for trying to help.”
“If the gods did help you, and your magic failed because of the price, your time here would also be the price...” Leaning closer, she put her lips to his ear. “Sythrnax fears your underworld magic, Kael. Had it been working you might have defended yourself and not have ended up here.”
“Then your gods should have let me die.”
In a tender display of emotion, she placed her hand on his and touched his chin with the other, forcing him to look at her. “The Gods do not act like we do—they don’t think like we do. When they act in our world someone pays a heavy price for their actions. It is the balance of magic.”
Kael looked at her with an empty, hollow expression on his face. “Maybe this is my price then, N’Ikyah.” He wheezed as he used his other hand to point around the cell. “Don’t get much heavier does it?”
“No, it does not. You rest now. We will try again later. We have little to lose, no?” She smiled again. Kael returned the extremely rare gesture from the young woman.
Four hours passed since Kael’s discussion with N’Ikyah. Lycori had come back only minutes after they had finished talking and was sleeping with her head in his lap, for a change. He didn’t mind, really, it seemed unimportant now to worry over such things. Consoling a friend in conditions like the ones they were living in was more important than to hurt her feelings for no reason. Besides, Kael knew that Lycori didn’t see him that way; she was like a protective older sister, one he was glad to have. With her remaining in his lap, he dozed off for another hour before the thunderous boots of the Orotaq returning with the Dead Sisters startled him awake.
Just as they had always done before, the witches returned in force accompanied by several Orotaq warriors. With no regard for the other prisoners, the Orotaq guards lifted Lycori and the others off their feet and slammed them into the prison bars. The sharp, silver burs dug into the flesh of all the prisoners, with the exception of Lycori, where they caused burn welts to raise on her skin instead. The vampyress was the only real threat left. The wizards could be controlled through the collars and the rest by sheer intimidation while in their starved and weakened state.
Kael’s experience with the agony caused by the magical bracers on the first day of their capture had been more than enough to subdue him as well, and every other wizard who had felt their effects. N’Ikyah hid as best she could, curled into a ball in the corner closest to Kael. With no knowledge of offensive spells and all of ninety pounds, she was no threat either. The other wizards had been warned that if they taught her any words of magic, their tongues would be cut out and broiled by the Orotaq as punishment. It worked.
Arabella entered the cell once everyone was subdued and under control. Sythrnax’s little right hand man had decided to join the Dead Sisters for the first time since the day of their arrival. It was obvious both were very unhappy about something. Grodin’s presence alone was a sign that something big was going to or had already happened. Arabella was in Kael’s face, nose to nose, in seconds without the faintest glance toward anyone else.
“You are the most stubborn human being I have ever had the displeasure of knowing, Kael,” she said. “My patience with you is at an end. Either you kill at least one person in this cell right this instant, or I will do it for you,” she hissed, her rancid breath washing over his face. Try as he might, Kael couldn’t tell if she was bluffing or not, but as the silver burs dug into his back, he leaned forward to face her anyway. Not nearly enough of his magic had returned for him to help anyone should she follow through with her threat.
“You’ll never learn will you, witch? I won’t kill for you, so you might as well just kill me, instead,” he said, as he tried to convince her.
“But my dear Master,” she said, stroking his cheek, “I would neve
r kill you. We just want you to return to your senses. We have work to do and we need you. Everything we do is for your own good,” she cooed in a calm voice. Then, as if a switch had been thrown, her voice changed, saturated with violence. “Grab the old man, now!” she barked.
“Grandfather, no!” Lycori screamed, as two Orotaq guards pulled Gabriel off the bars and dragged him to Kael’s side of the cell. Weakened by weeks of fever, he put up little resistance. The larger of the two massive guards lifted Gabriel by his throat until his legs dangled two feet off the ground. With a deep rumbling laugh the Orotaq warrior pushed him into the bars and pinned him to the cage beside Kael. The second guard tore Gabriel’s robe from his body as if it were nothing more than paper.
A nod from Arabella sent the young novice, Ashea, over to Gabriel as the Orotaq guards dragged him down the bars until he was on his knees. Blood flowed as the silver burs cut deep into the flesh of his back. The witch’s young novice pulled a polished, white bone dagger from a sheath on her belt and drew lazy designs as she dragged the point across Gabriel’s bare chest and stomach. A thin line of blood appeared from the fine cuts. Ashea stared at Kael with a crooked grin and then shifted her eyes to Lycori as she began twisting the point into Gabriel’s stomach a hair at a time.
“Please, leave him alone, he’s done nothing to you. Please!” Lycori begged, but Arabella stood there smirking.
“I warned you, Kael, that my patience would run out. Kill another in this cell, in his stead, or watch as I kill your bloodsucker’s grandfather right before your eyes.” Overwhelmed by hopelessness, Kael fell to his knees in anguish as his guard released him from the bars. He knew what this would do to Lycori, but he couldn’t save Gabriel. He was still too weak to even try.
He stared at Lycori. “I’m sorry, I can’t help him. Forgive me.”
“No, Kael,” she sobbed, “it’s not your fault. It’s theirs. I’m sorry, Grandfather. I love you.”
“It’s okay sweetheart. I got to see you again, that’s all—”
Arabella nodded to Ashea. The young girl plunged the bone dagger into Gabriel’s heart before he could finish saying good bye. Released by the guards, Ashea rode Gabriel’s falling body to the floor, laughing and stabbing the whole way. Lycori screamed as she fought desperately to get loose. Two guards held her tight and she swiftly tired out dropping to her knees in despair.
“You have an hour, Kael, and then we return and do this all over again with someone else.” Arabella smiled. Turning to the nearest Orotaq guard she ordered, “Throw the old man’s body into the hole.”
The Dead Sisters left, followed by the Orotaq, who dragged Gabriel’s lifeless body along with them. Grodin, Sythrnax’s little shadow chuckled as he left the cell, but said nothing, just as he hadn’t the entire time he was there. Kael went to Lycori’s side as soon as he could force his broken and battered body to move. He said nothing, but wrapped his arms around her and held her as she cried. Arabella’s hour-long deadline passed without either of them having moved.
As promised, the Dead Sisters returned one hour later. Entering the cell, they once again made sure everyone was separated and secured by using the overpowering brute force of the Orotaq warriors. Arabella strolled into the cell, clearly still proud of her earlier actions. Accompanied by Grodin, she never took her emotionless eyes off of Kael. “Do we do this again, Kael? Surely you tire of this, no? Would you like to kill one of these useless... people. Or will I do it for you?”
“You’re wasting your time, Arabella. Get that through your sick, twisted head. I’m not going to kill for you, so stop this, please. These people have done nothing to you. Please, just leave them be. You will never convince me to kill them,” Kael pleaded.
Arabella laughed hysterically. “Please? I’ll show you what I think of your whining pleas, coward. Bring the girl,” she snarled in Kael’s face, as she pointed at Lycori.
Three of the monstrous Orotaq guards dragged her kicking and fighting to the side of the cell where Kael was being held by more guards.
“Bastards,” Lycori growled, as she dug her claws into the forearm of the first guard. The attack freed her hand, and she lunged for the throat of the Orotaq who still held her other arm. The savagery of her attack caught him by surprise and she twisted free from his vice-like grip. Frantic with desperation, she sunk her extending claws into his shoulders and buried her fangs deep into the pale blue flesh of his throat. Vampyr-enhanced adrenaline fuelled her blood-starved aggression and her powerful jaws locked tight with a deep click. The crunch of the Orotaq’s throat collapsing echoed through the cell as blood sprayed from the sides of Lycori’s mouth. She swallowed every pulsating rush of blood caused by the guard’s panicked heart and raw energy began to flow back into her long emaciated body.
The victory was short lived, however, as Arabella let loose violent bolts of putrid green energy and Darthinia snapped a magical whip. Both tore into Lycori and the guard she was feeding on. Varrysa and Ashea barked identical spells and sticky black webbing jumped from their hands, splattering around Lycori’s feet and knees. With blood-renewed strength, Lycori pushed herself into the air, tearing herself free. Trailing strings of vile, black web slowed her enough for the accelerating green bolts of energy to slam into her side and shoulder. The impact sent her sliding across the floor until she came to a stop at Grodin’s feet.
“Good afternoon, my darling,” he said with a smirk. “This looks a little familiar, doesn’t it?” he asked as she looked up into his face. She smiled at him with hatred and hunger in her eyes. As blood dripped from her teeth, he swung his cane and the skull-shaped, obsidian head smashed her in the mouth, just like in the mountain pass so many months ago. Seething with anger and not satisfied at her punishment, an Orotaq warrior slammed his over-sized fist into the back of her head. The impact drove her face into the stone floor of the cell. Refusing to quit, he grabbed a handful of her hair and threw her into the cell wall with enough force to bend several bars outward. Finally satisfied, he dragged her semi-conscious body back to Arabella.
Kael knew what was coming by the sadistic smile on the witch’s smug face and he exploded with violence. Surprised by the unexpected movement, the Orotaq guard holding him lost his grip for a brief second. Ignoring the instinctive call to use his recovering magic, Kael instead elbowed the other guard in the throat with every ounce of strength he had left, causing the guard’s windpipe to collapse under the force of the desperate blow. Grasping a sword from the guard’s belt, he ripped it free before he spun back, stabbing the first guard in the chest.
Shocked at his own ferocity, Kael stared in morbid fascination as the guard fell to his knees, blood jetting from the wound with every beat of his punctured heart. As he fell to the side, Kael’s sword slid from his chest with a sucking noise and blood continued to gush from the mortal wound. He turned back to Arabella as the gore-covered blade steamed in the cool air of the underground prison. She stood her ground and smiled as Kael heard the distinctive ring of the Orotaq control bracelets. The threat of what was coming stirred him to action. With a grunt, he rolled past the smiling witch and ducked behind her in the hopes of dodging the little yellow sparks from the bracelet. As he stepped up behind her, the powerful energy from the Orotaq bracelet swerved around Lycori and under Arabella’s arms. Both sparks entered Kael’s collar at the same time as he reached around the witch’s neck with the sword.
With his anger and despair far out of control, Kael withstood the excruciating pain long enough to put the blade of his stolen sword firmly on Arabella’s throat, hooking the curved blade back around her ear. Two more clacks of the ringing bracelet and more sparkling balls of energy entered his collar seizing the muscles inside his neck, causing his head to jerk backwards in agony. Pain launched from the collar and raced through his body as the blade fell from his nerve-deadened fingers and his legs buckled underneath him.
Arabella cursed at the small cut on her throat and spit the words to a spell that no one understood. Th
e symbols on Kael’s Gyhhura collar blazed to life as he was lifted into mid-air. Thrown into the bars of the cell by an invisible force, the collar stuck to the bars like iron on an overpowered lodestone. Through the haze of rending pain, Kael grasped the collar and tried his best to relieve the weight of his own body as it pulled down on the spikes embedded in his neck. Heat seared his fingers and smoke curled from the flesh of his hands, and when he could no longer hold on, his body slumped. The spikes dug deeper into the nerves of his neck as gravity forced his body down. Sharp blasts of electrical nerve pain exploded through his body, and he screamed like never before. Arabella smiled and closed her eyes, the pleasure written on her face nearly orgasmic.
She shuddered with bliss as she opened her eyes and raised her hand. A single command word drifted from her lips with a sigh and Kael slid down the bars, coming to a stop on his knees, gasping and panting as his body trembled from the trauma of the ordeal. Two Orotaq guards grabbed him by the shoulders and wrist, holding him in place along with the magnetic effect of the collar as N’Ikyah crept to his side to try and help. She got a vicious backhand from Arabella and a kick from a guard for her trouble.
