Scion Rising
Page 8
“I’m sorry. I…” Wyllea had been about to say she couldn’t sense him either, but… no.
Is that him? She asked Eaglewing.
Yes. You were close to him long enough for me to get a good strong sense of his mind. He is heading east fast.
Can we catch him?
Of course we can.
Then let’s.
“I know where he is. I’ll get him back.” With that, she sprung into the air, the night wind howling around her as she flew with amazing speed toward where Davar bounded along, heading east. He moved in a strange combination of running and leaping, his jumps carrying him for miles at a time over forests and rivers or other obstacles.
It took only scant moments for her to catch up, flying free with amazing speed above everything. There remained only one problem when she found him.
I can’t see him. She’d learned that her eyesight had become much more than exceptional when she’d bonded with Eaglewing. Like an eagle herself, she could see minute items at great distances, but even though she could sense Davar’s mind below, she couldn’t see him.
She suspected with a sword named Shadowfang, his ability to become shadow itself and hide in the night was also exceptional.
But she could still sense him, or his mind at least, and that was her advantage.
She drew back Eaglewing’s string and, letting her mind’s eye guide the shot, loosed an arrow.
He easily moved out of the way. Yet when he next hit the ground, he stopped. She flew past him, then circled around, returning to where he stood in a wide field. She approached carefully. He had revealed himself, shadows no longer cloaking him. He stood ready, sword held easily in one hand. She floated down until she was hovering twenty feet from him, still well off the ground.
“I didn’t think either of you would be stupid enough to follow me,” he said with a confident grin. He had lots of reasons to be confident. He’d been stabbed in the gut earlier that night as well as shot by her three arrows and was now perfectly fine.
Wyllea said nothing, trying to figure out how to win this fight. Just shooting arrows at him might score a hit eventually, emphasis on might and eventually. Even then, he could heal incredibly fast. She couldn’t. She had the advantage of a ranged weapon and greater speed if he chose to flee again, but other than that, she was at a loss.
“What are you waiting for?” he asked, still confident, but she could hear the confusion in his voice. Apparently, he wasn’t used to his opponent being so careful.
He shrugged. “Let’s end this.” He leapt at her.
She flew back and away, the wind that was hers to command blowing her out of his reach. His leap took him hundreds of feet into the air, a slash with his sword brushing less than a foot away from her, but that was all. He landed, and once again, she joined him, hovering, ready.
“Why won’t you fight me?” he shouted, angry. Perhaps she could use that anger.
“Like I’m going to make this easy for you,” she said evenly. “I know you wish to capture me, and you know I wish to capture you. Our abilities are matched. We are in a stalemate.”
“We are hardly a match.” He leapt again.
This time she didn’t move, she blocked his blow with Eaglewing turning the blade to the side and grabbing his wrist, and then she flew downward fast. She landed and slammed him into the ground in front of her. She released him and fired as fast as she could, but he rolled out of the way and spun to his feet. She leapt backward into the air, but he followed. She fired a stream of arrows, all of which he knocked aside. When he swung at her, she pushed herself farther away with a gust of wind and again his blade sliced too near for comfort. She fired at the same time as his swing. He flinched away, the arrow catching him in the shoulder as opposed to the neck. He landed, and she kept her distance.
She fired at him, but even with a wounded shoulder, he blocked her shots.
I need something else. Arrows just aren’t going to do it. What else can we do to him? She asked Eaglewing.
His mind is strong. I’ve already assessed that. Getting through his defenses will take some work, but we are stronger. We can do it if we have a little time.
Let’s do it. She didn’t need to ask how. She knew what Eaglewing knew for the most part.
It was odd working in the metaphysical realm, attacking with her mind. She and Eaglewing could attack the mind directly, a mental blast that would stagger and disorient, possibly even knock unconscious. It helped if she thought of the attacks as some giant invisible hammer pounding down on the person’s head.
They struck. He blinked.
“Is that all you’ve got?” he said with a sneer.
Far from it. That was just one blow.
She began hammering down on him, strike after strike. It didn’t matter if he moved, it was a mental attack, and as long as she could sense his mind, it was at risk.
She could sense his defenses weakening.
“No!” he cried out and leapt at her again.
Keep it up, Wyllea said to Eaglewing as she fired one arrow after another and flew backward to evade his blow. Eaglewing kept attacking his mind and, halfway through his leap, he fell from the sky with a shriek.
He disappeared before he landed, shadow cloaking him invisible in the night, but his mind was not hidden.
His defenses were breaking, crumbling, which was good because the repeated attacks were starting to drain her.
She landed next to where he had fallen, a ball of black on a darkened field.
The darkness lunged at her, shrouded her in shadow, but she knew where he was, knew his mind. She was in now. Even though she could not see it, she blocked a blow from his sword, knowing where he’d placed it, seeing the thought behind the stroke. Then she fired five quick shots into him. With his mind weakened, he managed to dodge only three. One hit his stomach, the other his sword arm.
He cried out, going to one knee.
One final hammer to his mind as she peppered him with a barrage of arrows, and he crumbled. All but one arrow hit home. His mind reeled.
One final blow and his shadows faded from around them as he fell into a darkness of his own, unconscious.
Wyllea breathed hard, her head aching.
I’ve never hit anyone with that many mind bolts before. That was intense! Eaglewing sounded winded and worn.
I know. I can feel it too.
For the sake of certainty, she fired another barrage of arrows into him. She knew he would heal, and he seemed far from dead, just out cold.
Senia dropped out of the sky.
She looked at the limp form of Davar filled with arrows. Surprised and laughing, she said, “I didn’t think I was that far behind you. What did you do?”
“Remembered I could do more than just hit people with arrows. I’m still not quite used to this ‘being a Guardian with strange powers’ thing.”
Senia chuckled again. “I know what that feels like. That was me not that long ago.” She nodded to Davar. “Shall we take him in?”
Wyllea nodded. “I’m beat, but let’s get him back into the bindings at least. I’d also suggest keeping him unconscious for as long as we can.”
“I agree. Can you do that with your mind powers?”
“Yes, for now. I’ll let you know if I get too tired.”
“Do that.”
When they returned to the camp where they had left Tirol, they found him sleeping soundly. Wyllea pounded a couple more mental blasts into Davar’s mind, then collapsed herself, exhausted.
“You up for keeping watch?” she asked Senia, who nodded. “Good.” She laid herself next to Tirol and joined him in slumber.
Chapter 12
Tirol was quite certain he didn’t like flying. Especially when all that kept him from falling was Wyllea’s arms around him. Not that he minded her arms around him or the feel of her body pressed against his. Those were quite pleasant sensations. They were, however, harder to enjoy when one was terrified for one’s life because one was hun
dreds of feet above the ground.
When finally she set him down in the massive bailey of St. Antin Abbey, he was so very thankful to have hard earth under him once more.
There was a flurry of activity as they touched down with Senia carrying Davar next to them.
It looked like the forces amassed here had fared well enough in Senia’s absence. The walls still stood, though from his vantage point flying over them earlier, he’d seen the great toll those same walls had taken, pitted and damaged in many spots. The Blacklord’s armies on the plains and hills to the east, a great sea of black spotted with campfires and tents, had not yet breached these defenses. It probably helped that the armies of the nations to the west had arrived.
He was taking Wyllea’s word on that. Personally, he had no clue of these things and who was who, but Wyllea had pointed out the many banners amidst the sea of men camped on the hills to the west, saying they were the armies of Scandia, Nehrista, and Fjoria. These groups together did not even make a third of The Blacklord’s armies, but with the stout defense of the abbey the enemy had to pass to get to them and being well fortified in the hills, Tirol guessed they could last a while.
All in all, it looked like a situation he didn’t want to be in the middle of, and yet here he was. Wyllea had asked if he wished to go with her, and he’d agreed. He’d figured, correctly, that at least he’d be on the other side of the front lines — if only barely — so he could head west from here and escape this whole blasted war if he wished.
And that was the question: did he want to leave Wyllea? Did he want to be free?
Yes, he wanted to be near her… except if that meant being in the middle of a war. She had never really reciprocated his feelings. All he had to go on was that she’d said she “wouldn’t leave him” after healing the wounds he’d taken from Davar. But that could mean anything. Any decent person might stick around and help a dying man. It didn’t mean they loved him.
Gods, but he was confused and frustrated.
He knew he loved her, but now even that was starting to turn his emotions inside out. It was a joy to be around her, see her, talk to her, but to know that she might never see him or love him the same way burned him. He was beginning to wonder if it might not be easier to live with this unrequited love somewhere far away from her.
Even in all the time they’d had together on the way here, they hadn’t talked of it. He didn’t know what to say. He’d only known her for a few days! And she seemed inclined simply not to say anything. A couple of times she’d looked as if she wanted to say something, but every time it had been some mundane item or other.
He decided to do something about it now. One way or the other, no matter how she felt, she needed to know what he was feeling.
He turned to her and said, “Wyllea, I lo…” The rest of it died on his lips.
Cries of, “A scion! Another scion!” overpowered his words as a flood of people closed in around them. Suddenly, he was be pushed away from her as the horde crowded close, babbling questions all at once.
Then Wyllea was being whisked away from him. Their eyes met through the crowd for a moment, and she sent him a look of shocked confusion then a smile. She said something, her lips forming words he couldn’t hear over the din of those around her. Then she was gone from view.
He sighed and shook his head. He’d missed his chance. And seeing how she was being treated now, he realized that they were just too different. She was a hero and a warrior, and he was no one. His love wasn’t going to be returned. They were just not meant for one another, and he’d have to live with that.
He turned and waded through the crowd.
He stayed at St. Antin long enough for a good meal — well, three of them actually, a full day. He was still feeling a bit battered and tired from the back-to-back fights a few days ago, having come so close to death again and again. But after a full day of rest, he was feeling well enough to travel. He didn’t need much. The lands west of here wouldn’t be as sparse as those claimed by The Blacklord. He was a fair enough hunter and wouldn’t need many provisions for the journey he planned to take. All he had to do was leave when he was ready, but still he lingered. He had hoped Wyllea would come to him, find him, but she never did.
He asked around about Wyllea. Apparently, she was meeting with the abbots and the high abbot, important people. No one seemed to know when she might be free, but in the end, it didn’t matter. If she felt for him how he felt for her, she’d have found time to come to him. Frankly, he was out of energy. He didn’t want to fight anymore, fight a war or fight for her. What good was it to fight for someone who’d never appreciate or reciprocate? She was lost to him, and he had to accept it.
So he found someone to show him a way out, a long tunnel deep beneath the abbey. He was told it would bring him up several hours away to the west, past even the allied armies camped above.
Yet still he waited until dusk turned to night before he left, but she didn’t come for him.
So he left.
Later that night, he made a small camp in a quiet valley between two tall rises, next to a burbling brook, with thick forest all around him. More than anything, he wanted Wyllea to be there with him, but he was joined by only stars above and a whispered breeze through the trees. He slept uneasily and moved on the next day.
Chapter 13
Wyllea’s life had been a whirlwind since the moment she’d landed in the bailey of St. Antin Abbey. For three days straight, she’d been meeting with monks and the high abbot. Everyone wanted her to tell the tale of her and Eaglewing. The monks were incredulous, to say the least, but they couldn’t deny her scion-like abilities. Eventually, they’d relented and, in stunned awe, saw before them a future full of new Guardians. It would take generations, but they had a small hoard of the magical artifacts. If people started training with them now, then perhaps, in a hundred years or so, more Guardians might stand to defend the world against tyranny.
During this time, Wyllea had had very few, very short, moments to herself. She’d tried to find Tirol a couple of times, but the abbey was immense and she’d only managed to search a small portion of it. This search was hampered by the fact that no one she talked to seem to know who Tirol was.
Finally, after they’d dismissed her on the third day, though she’d been told to report in early the next day to begin her formal training with Eaglewing, she began a search in earnest. After an hour of futility, an idea came to her.
No one knew who Tirol was, but chances were everyone knew who and where Senia was. Indeed, the first person she asked pointed her in the right direction.
She found Senia in a small private dining chamber with a short, stern-looking, steel-haired woman and a tall young man, handsome in his way.
When Senia saw her, she said, “Wyllea, please join us.”
“Actually, I was hoping you might know where Tirol has disappeared to?”
Senia’s face clouded. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since the day you arrived.”
“Oh.” And with that, all of Wyllea’s hopes fell. If Senia hadn’t seen him, she had no idea who to ask to find him.
“Are you referring to the man you arrived with, the one you carried?” This from the gray-haired woman.
“Yes. Do you know where he is?”
“No,” the woman said evenly, and Wyllea’s hopes fell once again. “I don’t know where he is now, but I know he left two days ago.”
“Left?”
“Yes. I believe he was headed west.”
“Oh.” Wyllea closed the door to the room and simply stood in the hall for a moment. He’d left… left her.
But she had thought…
He’d been so…
Had she mistaken his affection?
No, you didn’t.
Eaglewing? How do you know?
I can read minds, remember. What he felt for you was true love, my dear.
But then why would he leave?
Because love that strong, that intense, if no
t returned, can burn deeply.
But I… She’d meant to tell him, but she hadn’t yet said anything, really. She’d always been interrupted, or too busy, or hadn’t known what to say. Oh, by all the gods, I should have found the time. I should have said something sooner. Now what will I do?
You really need to ask?
What?
Oh, you humans and your emotions. You know what to do. You’ve done it before. We’ve been around Tirol long enough to get a sense for his unique mind. We can find him.
That’s right!
She sent her senses out, flung wide to the world. She focused westward, though in truth she didn’t know where he might have gone after he’d left the abbey.
Tens of thousands of minds sat on the hills to the west, but further beyond them were only a few. Dots here and there, faceless and unknown to Wyllea, except… that one.
She found him, several days to the west, sitting alone while his mind burned with desirous thoughts… of her.
Well, that definitely confirmed things.
She poked her head back into the small dining room, speaking quickly. “Tell… whoever that I might be late for my training tomorrow. I have something important to attend to.”
She didn’t wait for a response before running as fast as she could out of the abbey, and once free of the building, she took flight, howling through the skies of dusk.
Her desire drove her. She’d flown fast when chasing down Davar, but now she tore at the wind itself and with her powers funneled it behind her, forcing her faster and faster to the west.
What Tirol had walked in two days she spanned in an hour of swift flight.
It was full dark when she floated from the sky to land in the small clearing where he lay next to a dying fire.
He opened his eyes and slowly smiled. “This must be another dream. You’re coming to me again, to be with me, to be mine. I’ll take it, even if I can only ever have you in my dreams.”
It was at his mention of “having her in a dream” that a thought popped into Wyllea’s mind. That oh-so-real dream she’d had several days ago of being with Tirol, feeling his body, his passion for her.