The Warrior Mage (The Lost Prophecy Book 2)

by D. K. Holmberg

  There was much about Brohmin she didn’t understand. From the first time she’d met him, he seemed somehow more than any man she had ever met. His open disdain for anything her people did was surprising, and had he not shown the same disdain for the Deshmahne, she would have thought he sided with the warrior priests, but he’d been even more dismissive of them than he had the Magi.

  Still… he’d kept her alive, delaying the effects of what had been inflicted upon her. She still had some of her ability and connection to that which made her Mageborn, but nothing close to what she’d once possessed. If what Brohmin had told her about the High Priest was true, then he had stolen from her to strengthen himself. Brohmin had slowed that loss, but not stopped it.

  It was hard for her to let go of the thoughts about Brohmin. The daneamiin had called him Brohmin Ulruuy, the name of a man five hundred years gone, a man her people had chosen as Uniter only to watch him fail. She remembered the stories about him well. His violence had brought no peace, the histories told, only more violence. Yet, that was over five hundred years ago. He could not be the same man. That was even more impossible than her traveling to the Unknown Lands.

  In spite of knowing it impossible, there was something about him that bothered her, had always bothered her. He spoke as one who knew things he should not. Like what he knew of the High Priest. If what he said was true, if he was truly there when Raime… changed… then Brohmin was more than centuries old.

  It simply was not possible.

  Then again, much that she had seen was not possible. This boy was another. So much strangeness surrounded him, followed him, and Brohmin told her but a little of what he knew. He could be infuriating at times.

  She walked on, exploring the clearing, staring at the building. Salindra brushed back her brown hair, studying the structure. Her thoughts kept drifting back to Brohmin. She found herself thinking of him often, a strange appeal that she didn’t fully understand.

  Where had he gone?

  She’d not seen him—or Jakob—since the festivities. There was something about Brohmin, something about how he was capable in a way that few Mageborn could replicate. She had found him both reassuring and concerning. He had saved her, from more than the groeliin. Salindra was not sure what she would have done had the man not found her. She would be forever grateful to him for that.

  While lost in thought, she had reached the edge of the clearing. Glancing around the area, looking at the daneamiin as they moved about, she grew tired just watching. Her energy had been weak since her branding, and more so of late, drained from her along with her powers. Even Brohmin’s healing had only slowed it.

  There were days early on when she could practically feel it as it flowed from her. She cried often then, tears of her loss, knowing she could never return to the city of her birth. What would the Council do if she did?

  I will never sit among them now.

  There was a time that was important. It seemed so distant now.

  She still could not reach that empty part within her, that part of her that granted access to what made her Magi. She could reach for it, but with every effort, it slipped farther away. That part of her mind was closed to her now. It was enough to keep her up at night, if not for the fatigue.

  But last night, her sleep had been one of the most restful nights she had ever experienced. She had awoken feeling better than she had in months. In spite of that, already she felt tired, exhausted after only a short amount of walking this morning. How had she managed the hike the day before? Sheer determination, she supposed. She doubted she could do it again.

  She turned her attention back to the forest. It would be easy to lose herself in the dark woods, but would that be so bad? If she let herself wander, to disappear, maybe she wouldn’t have to suffer the way that she did. Maybe she would finally be able to rest.

  Salindra shoved away the dark thoughts. There was too much still to learn, too much she had never known existed.

  These daneamiin had something to them that rivaled what she once had, what any Mageborn had, she suspected. It was different. She could almost see it in the way they moved. Different, but similar. Stronger too, perhaps. How had they gone unnoticed for so long?

  She suddenly realized that she had wandered deep into the forest. Looking over her shoulder, she could see the edge of the clearing.

  How did I walk so far?

  She stopped so that she didn’t wander out of view of the clearing. She had no illusion she could find her way back. Movement out of the corner of her eyes caught her attention. She turned slowly and nearly jumped out of her skin.

  A huge cat sat in front of her, like no creature she’d ever seen or read about. Golden fur coated the creature, long and shaggy and seemingly unfit for the warm weather. It simply watched her, eyes unmoving, considering her. Intelligence gleamed brightly from those golden eyes, intelligence unlike she had ever seen in an animal. It held her captive in its gaze in a way that made her feel she was being examined. She couldn’t move, wouldn’t let herself move.

  A tingling sensation washed over her, almost so quickly that it might not have been there before it was gone. With it came a wave of emotions—joy, sorrow, and rage all bundled into one strange sensation. Salindra shuddered, shocked and afraid to move. Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, it loped off into the forest, quickly disappearing.

  A light touch at her shoulder made her jump. Elin smiled at her.

  “I just saw,” she started, shaking her head. “Some sort of beast, a cat or something…”

  Elin tilted his head and considered her for a moment, and a brief look of surprise flitted across his face before he nodded. “A nemerahl, I suppose, though I am surprised you would see one.”

  “It just stood over there, staring at me,” she told him, motioning to the spot where the big cat had stood. She shivered again as she remembered how it had made her feel.

  Elin nodded. “They are rarely seen, and then only when they want to be.”

  “Its eyes, they seemed so…”

  “They are wise creatures. Surprisingly wise.” He looked at her again, seeming to consider. “Come, you are requested.”

  “Me? Who requests me?” she asked.

  “The Cala maah. Come.”

  She abandoned her next question as he moved quickly away from her, and followed him into the clearing. His quick pace was tiring, and she felt herself draining even more. Salindra wondered if she had reached the end of her abilities. Would she have to learn to live with the constant emptiness and lack of energy she now felt?

  If she could, she would scrub the damned brands from her skin, but the slightest touch was tender. The sight of them filled her with a mixture of rage and helplessness. If Brohmin couldn’t help her, she doubted anyone could. The Magi certainly couldn’t do anything about the brands.

  When the Deshmahne had taken her, she had been so confident she could convert them, so confident they didn’t represent a threat to her, that it had blinded her. She still remembered the shock of the speed at which they had subdued her and the Denraen tasked to the city with her. Salindra could still smell the soldiers’ blood as their heads fell from their lifeless bodies while she was forced to watch.

  She had felt anger then. Real torture had come next.

  She remembered little of it, save the screaming and the hoarseness of her voice. Shadows and chanting came to her in dreams now and then, and she knew it was memories of her branding. It was then she had learned helplessness and fear. It was a lesson she had not forgotten.

  Salindra still didn’t know why she had been released; helpless as a child and as weak as a newborn babe, little from those first weeks remained in her memory. She was thankful of that. All that remained of who she had been, the Magi representative to Rondalin, were the brandings.

  Elin saw her dragging behind and slowed so that she could catch him. “The Cala maah waits, Salindra Indrianne.” Her tired eyes stared into his strange dark ones. He smiled a knowing smile. “You
will find strength with them.”

  She smiled back at him weakly. Strength had left her more quickly than it used to, despite her rest the night before. She managed to follow Elin and realized he led her toward the huge building. The clearing around it was mostly devoid of other daneamiin. Where had they gone?

  There had been so many. When Elin had said there were too many to count, she had thought him facetious, but in her time wandering the city, she really had seen more than she could count. She could scarcely believe their numbers, and if they all had something like the Magi ability… it was more than even the Magi.

  If word of them got out, what would it mean for the Urmahne?

  That was something she hadn’t given thought to, but everything she’d seen made it seem like the daneamiin had no interest in anything other than peace. Could it be possible they followed the Urmahne as well?

  They reached the huge open archway, and he led her through it, and into the building. No one came out to greet her. Elin motioned her to continue, pointing toward a doorway. When she resisted, he gently took her elbow and led her.

  Warmth from his touch came through the long shirt she wore today. There was power in his grip, but he was careful with her, almost as one would be with a child. Once she would have taken offense, but today, it only comforted her.

  They reached the open doorway and turned toward the left. Their sloped path spiraled downward, and the light around them quickly faded into darkness. Something about the daneamiin radiated calm, and she knew she could trust Elin.

  After walking a short way, she saw a flickering light of a candle in the distance. When they reached it, she noted a large room with a single candle at the center. Six daneamiin knelt in a circle in the center of the room. There was nothing else around her, and the light of the candle wasn’t bright enough to see much else.

  Elin led her to the center of the circle. Salindra looked at each of the faces, suddenly somewhat uncertain. She couldn’t tell male from female daneamiin and gave up trying. As she reached the center of the circle, Elin left her. She watched his departure as long as she could without turning around.

  What answers would she receive here? Elin had promised her answers, hadn’t he?

  This wasn’t a place for answers. This was different. She wasn’t sure exactly what they wanted of her, but her heart quickened just the same.

  “Sit, Salindra Indrianne,” a voice directed from behind her. It was deep and musical. The voice was similar to the voice of the daneamiin who had welcomed them yesterday. She resisted the urge to turn and look.

  She sat. She knew of no other option. The daneamiin held one another’s hands and hairless heads reflected some of the candle’s light, giving them a strange glow.

  As she looked around at the six daneamiin, they began to shimmer in and out, reminding her of how they moved when they had first appeared. Salindra suspected it was only the strange shadows from the candle, but she thought she could feel the daneamiin move closer to her, though she saw no movement. The strange shimmering increased, and she looked to the candle to see what caused it.

  It snuffed out. Darkness overwhelmed her.

  She felt a presence all around her, almost touching her. Fear coursed through her. It had long since ceased being an unfamiliar feeling to her.

  A cold sensation began to creep into her veins. Her face was first, the unexpected cold stinging her eyes and lips as it moved downward and toward her neck. It stole across her chest and into her lungs before reaching her arms and oozing into the tips of her fingers.

  She shook them, but could not shake the feeling.

  It moved into her heart. Fear turned to terror.

  Are they attacking me? The thought was followed by another: How could Brohmin do this to us?

  The freezing moved across her belly and into her groin. She shook violently, painfully. She opened her mouth to scream, but it would not work. Then she felt the cold move down her legs, tearing at the flesh and muscle in an agonizingly slow manner. It reached her ankles, her feet, where it stopped.

  It throbbed.

  It pulsated.

  It was agony unlike any she had known.

  Her mouth worked soundlessly as she attempted to scream. Her entire body throbbed.

  Then it stopped.

  The candle flickered, as if switched on. One by one, other candles sprang to light along the walls, providing a comfortable light. She focused on the daneamiin all around her, and nothing else.

  “Why?” she demanded. Elin stood at the doorway, his face unreadable, and she cast him a heated glance.

  The daneamiin did not answer.

  She struggled to stand, but found it difficult and collapsed to her knees. She was more tired than she had ever felt, as if every ounce of energy she had left had been pulled out from her, leaving her completely drained. Her head buzzed, achingly, and she could still feel a remnant of the cold.

  She sat there while the daneamiin watched her, silent.

  After a while, a sensation came to her. It was something of a memory and so unexpected that she nearly jumped.

  The part of her mind she filled with her Mageborn abilities practically buzzed. She reached toward it, the trick long memorized. Her mind stretched, filling with her consciousness. She pulled at the manehlin around her, and put out one of the candles, relighting it as soon as she was sure she had done it.

  They had healed her.

  Salindra grabbed at her cloak and pulled it up, studying her ankle. The brands were no longer there.

  She touched the place where they had been. It wasn’t tender. In their place were fresh scars, neatly healed. Could she really be healed, whole again? Was it possible?

  For a fleeting moment, she thought something was different about her abilities, though not enough that she would stop smiling. She shook off the thought, suspecting it was only that way because she had not had them fully in such a long time.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “I can never thank you enough.” She paused to catch her breath. “You have given me back that which I had not thought possible.”

  The daneamiin who had greeted them yesterday stood.

  “But why? Why do I deserve this gift you have given me?” She didn’t want to question, but had to know. It was so unexpected and wonderful, but there had to be a price. There was always a price.

  The daneamiin looked at her for a long moment before answering. “The fibers brought you to us. There is much good before you.”

  Salindra didn’t care that she had no idea what he meant. She felt ready to burst. She was still tired, but began to believe that would pass. “Thank you.”

  She looked around at the other faces. Each seemed neutral, though a bead of sweat gleamed on the forehead of each. Whatever they had done had taken much from each of them. They all looked as tired as she felt.

  As she looked at them, a new question came to her mind.

  “How?” she asked. What they had done hadn’t seemed possible.

  A nod from the one she thought to be the leader made her look toward the doorway. Elin came toward her with the nod. He held her elbow and helped her to stand.

  As he led her from the room, she looked over her shoulder. Each of the six daneamiin looked back at her. Salindra realized she would never get the answer she wanted, but she’d gotten another answer to a question she hadn’t thought to ask.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  When Anda found him at the edge of the forest, she escorted him back into the city. The trees towered just as high here, and he found his gaze drifting toward the ropes suspended overhead, watching the daneamiin as they strolled along them. There was no rush here, no sense of urgency.

  Yet Jakob felt urgency.

  “I need to find Brohmin,” he said.

  “After. The Cala maah is ready.”

  “You don’t understand—”

  “After you see the Cala maah,” she said again, touching his hand. Warmth seeped from it, leaving him relaxed, but still strugglin
g with the vision, fear of what had happened to the goddess working through him.

  They walked toward the huge structure at the center of the clearing, and at the doorway, Anda stopped him and turned toward him. She glanced at his still drying hair and his dirty shirt and breeches before looking to his booted feet. Her gaze fell on his sword. It hung at his side, its weight so easily ignored that he often forgot he wore it.

  “You will not need that here,” she said.

  They turned toward the door again, but before they could enter, Brohmin came up from behind him and placed a hand on his arm. Jakob let out a sigh of relief.

  “You were summoned?” Brohmin asked.

  “Yes. But, Brohmin—I saw something in the forest. A vision.” He lowered his voice and stepped toward Brohmin. “I don’t know what it meant, but I think I saw the goddess, but she was trapped.”

  “Trapped? You are certain of this?” Brohmin looked from Jakob to Anda. It was the first time Jakob had seen anything other than a serene expression on her face.

  “I think they were groeliin. Three of them, but bigger than any we faced.”

  Brohmin took a shaky breath. “I will look into this while you meet with the Cala maah.”

  “But—”

  “Your meeting with the Cala maah is important. Perhaps Endric was wiser than the rest of us knew. I asked for an audience but have not yet been granted one.” There was a hint of irritation in his voice mixed with something Jakob couldn’t discern. “Alyta meant for us to be here. The trunk was meant to come here, to the daneamiin. And you were meant to meet the Cala maah.”

  “I don’t understand. Why? And what if she’s been taken?” he asked.

  Brohmin turned his steely eyes upon Jakob. “I will worry about that. As to the first, I think you are to be tested.”

  “For what?”

  “I can’t answer that for you. If this is what I think, you can’t know ahead of time. Knowing might prevent you from succeeding, and I begin to think you must succeed.” Brohmin sighed. “I pray Endric knew what he was doing.”