by Lisa Morrow
She nodded. “But if they can reach us… we are a wealth of life-force to them.”
My legs shook as I looked out at the scorched earth. What would a person look like after the wizards got to them? Like the girls back at The Glass Castle, or something far more twisted and inhuman?
A woman came to an unsteady stop before us, drawing my attention. She was young, perhaps as young as me, but terror left her haggard. “They were here a moment ago,” she whispered, clinging to Norma’s arm.
Norma shook the girl free. “Back to your post.”
The girl lowered her gaze and shuffled to the edge of the scraggly trees, peering from behind one, to the blackened world.
Lightning split the sky, radiating with power and danger, followed by the threatening boom of thunder. A second or two passed before a cold drop of rain kissed the flesh at the back of my hand. The slight pit-pat of rain falling filled the silence.
Electricity charged the air. The scarred and filthy warriors scattered, their gazes trained on something unseen just past the girl at her post. I swore their rapid breathing grew louder than racing horses, betraying the acceptance in their faces.
Norma and Meisha came forward, and I followed, standing just behind the line of stunted trees and amongst the larger, healthy ones. I squinted, not wanting to miss what was about to happen, even while the shard at my neck warmed.
In between one blink and the next, a dark shape flickered at the edge of the abyss. A cry escaped my lips as my feet propelled me backwards.
Meisha gripped my arm, keeping me firmly by her side.
Shrouded in darkness, he stood, an unmoving shape of terror. Power radiated in such strength, a hazy orange glow smoked the air around him. Blue eyes, tiny pinpoints of light in an otherwise dark figure, glowed like the eyes of a beast lurking in the shadows.
“Today will be the day.” His voice was like the thunder. It came from everywhere, and yet, his mouth didn’t move.
Norma’s lips curled. “You say that every time.”
“Do not look,” Meisha whispered, turning away. Then, more quietly. “The sights of war will change you forever, in ways you may regret.”
But I couldn’t look away. I needed to understand.
The warriors spread out around us. Their torches were flickers of bright light in the near-darkness. The dancing light highlighted the determination in their expressions as their gazes fixed on the wizard.
But nothing happened.
“What are they doing?”
Meisha spoke, misery lacing her words. “Norma will enchant the lands. This is her skill. To make herself, and those warriors who’s True Names she holds, transform into whatever she wishes… whatever can fight the way she desires.”
Icy tendrils crawled along my flesh. I was about to see what a person of magic could do with someone’s True Name. I rubbed at the goose bumps racing down my arms. It couldn’t be any worse than the many tales I’d been told, could it be?
Confused, I looked to Norma for guidance.
She pulled her blade from her sheath and yanked her leather shirt up to reveal her stomach, covered in deep scars. Magic gathered as she murmured words in a language unknown to me. Her voice deepened as the spell grew more powerful. Jerking wildly, her head fell back. She screamed like an animal dying, before slashing open her stomach with her blade.
My heart stopped as the coppery scent of blood struck me. I pressed my hands to my mouth, trying to keep the scream inside from exploding.
She fell against a nearby tree, holding her belly to keep her insides from slopping out. A dark stain of blood slid down the tree and onto the ground. Where it touched, a white glow shot out, covering the forest floor.
The soft glow lighting the ground could mean only one thing, Norma had enchanted our lands. With what, I didn’t know. Her powers chilled me, but some small part of me was grateful there was some sense to the violence I’d just witnessed.
Behind me, shrieking and wailing rose up like a chorus. I turned to face the warriors, my body shaking.
They mutated before my eyes.
Ugar stood nearly as tall as the trees, and as broad as a house, his skin the color of oil. His pupils shone, all a milky white. More beast than man, a snarl escaped his lips.
My gaze skidded away only to spy the tall creatures, covered in silver spines, screeching as they stretched. They no longer clutched blades, instead it seemed their whole bodies had become sharp and deadly.
Wolves with scales howled, arching their backs. The musky scent of serpents hit me like a wave, combined with the equally powerful scent of wet dog. Salvia dripped from their lips, and hunger filled their gazes.
My stomach dropped. I turned back to Norma as she rose, no longer human. With red skin and two white horns twisting sharply on her head, she resembled a she-demon straight from the Underworld. Taller than most houses, with thighs as thick as trees, and long wicked claws, she was every nightmare come to life rolled into one.
They were all around me. Some only leaping distance away. One step of Norma’s enormous feet, and I’d be squashed
My heart stopped. My head swam. Loud noises and searing heat suffocated me. My vision darkened.
And then, I gasped. My heart pounded in my chest, and the world lurched back into focus. Norma’s eyes, putrid yellow and streaked with black, watched me, expectantly.
Sweat soaked my brow. Looking down, I expected the enchantment to have changed me into something monstrous. But I was still me, helpless except for the dagger in my hand, but still me.
“We shouldn’t be here.” I said, my voice ridiculously high as I wheezed out each word, looking to the still human Meisha for guidance. “How can we possibly fight with such creatures?”
Meisha’s dark gaze fell on mine. “It is the Undead wizards and their creatures you should fear.”
Dread filled me, reaching into my legs and shaking them until I could hardly stand. Before us, the wizard’s features grew sharper until he was more man than shadow. I was no doubt about to see Marcalus, the Head Wizard.
I inhaled sharply. Asher?
He came fully into focus. My knees nearly sagged in relief. It definitely wasn’t him. Yet… quite unexpectedly, the man looked normal. Almost… handsome? Short blond hair, high cheekbones, generous lips, and a muscular frame came together in a perfect combination. He wore brown slacks and a tight, white shirt that opened wide. If not for the greenish tint to his skin, he would’ve been an uncommonly beautiful man.
Some of my fears ebbed, replaced by a nervous anticipation. What lay beneath this goddess-blessed exterior?
Yet there were other horrors to come, a small army gathered behind him. The orange haze hovering around them was like a sickly sun, illuminating the pale green skin of the dozens of wizards, boys and men, who waited.
Other creatures remained concealed by darkness.
“Send in Gadagus! We’ve waited long enough!” The raspy, hissing voice raked along my nerves. The fine hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.
One shape separated from the others.
Bent by a large hump, he limped to stand beside the Head Wizard. Tattered pants, hung off a body so thin it was little more than bones. Black, stringy hair concealed his face.
And then, he looked up. Huge red eyes peered out from a face with flesh dripping like jowls beneath his throat.
Only Meisha’s hand gripping my arm kept me from collapsing.
“Did you hear me, Mighty Marcalus?” he sneered at the leader of the wizards. “Send the boy to do it, if you still believe this plan will work.”
Anger blazed in the Head Wizard’s face. “Back in line, Sazar.”
Sazar!
Nausea rolled through me. This creature… he was one of the Three Bringers of Death. The abominations that killed and destroyed without regard.
Two others stepped forward, nearly identical to Sazar in appearance.
His brothers.
Marcalus’ voice dripped with barely restrained anger. “Get back i
n line, or I’ll send you to the Underworld myself.”
The two brothers slunk back into the crowd, but Sazar didn’t move.
“But remember, Gadagus must make the sacrifice.” His laugh was that of a mad men. “Even if this plan doesn’t work, we’ll enjoy watching your smug nephew suffer.” He didn’t wait for a reply, before hobbling to join his brothers.
A moment of strained silence followed his words.
Marcalus put his hand on the hilt of his sword and stood straighter. “Gadagus, step forward.”
A boy of perhaps twelve years, with fresh specks of blood sprinkled across his face like freckles, separated from the other wizards. He strode forward until he nearly reached the trees, mere feet from us. Hesitating for only a breath, he stretched his hand out. It brushed something in the air, and he leapt back, pain marring his features. Where he’d touched, a deep red stain hung in the air briefly before exploding in all directions, enclosing us in a great red dome.
I took a deep breath, fighting the panic threatening to swallow me whole. No one else seemed to fear the red dome. But no one else seemed particularly alarmed by anything that was happening, and I was pretty sure they should be.
“What is that?” I asked, trying to sound calm.
Meisha whispered in answer to my question. “Do not fear. They are simply testing Norma’s shield, as they always do. Usually, they then frantically shoot their magic at it, leaving holes for their Undead creatures to crawl through and attack, but the shield itself always holds. For a long time, it has surrounded and protected these lands, at least around each tunnel from the Underworld.”
My insides quivered. “But what’s to keep them from going around the shield?”
“The Undead can only travel a short distance from each tunnel.” She answered with a sigh. “You really are not prepared for this place.”
I clamped my mouth shut and waited, finally looking at the she-demon Norma had become. She was watching me, and when I returned her gaze, she turned back to the wizards.
“What now, Marcalus?” Norma roared, slamming her enormous red fists into the ground.
The earth trembled beneath our feet, but the child, Gadagus appeared little more than annoyed. “Now uncle?” he asked.
Marcalus moved to stand behind his nephew, placing his hand on the young boy’s shoulder. “Yes, now.”
I tensed, my heart racing.
The boy raised his hand once more, brushing the tips of his fingers against the hazy red wall. Where he touched, the red darkened. The boy’s lips trembled. Tears spilled down his cheeks, blending with the specks of blood. He clamped down his teeth on his bottom lip, and his eyes squeezed shut. A chill wind rose as black smoke billowed from his fingertips.
The beating of my heart filled my ears.
Norma laughed, a chilling sound. Sharp teeth, as large as my hands, shone, dripping with saliva. “After all you’ve tried, this is your great plan? It reeks of desperation!”
I looked between the two of them, my palms sweaty. Please let her be right! Let this plan of theirs fail, so I could get as far from here as possible.
Marcalus said nothing, but the air grew colder until my teeth chattered. Black smoke curled from the wizard’s fingertips, spreading over his nephew’s shoulder. Another wizard lined up behind Marcalus, placing his own hand on the Head Wizard’s shoulder. One after another the wizards formed a line until black smoke curled over each and every one of them, like living cloaks. I sensed magic channeling through each wizard.
Dark shapes assembled around the line of wizards, until they too took form.
My gut clenched.
Dozens of Undead had joined the wizards. Their lizard heads were the color of coal. Their scales gleamed as if wet. Yellow, silted eyes shifted as their long, split tongues flickered. Their lower halves were those of pale-skinned men, wearing tattered pants, and nothing else.
I sensed blood rushing from my face.
Meisha’s hand gripped my arm. “Something is wrong here… different.”
My eyes were glued to the boy as I asked. “What?”
Her words barely rose above a whisper. “They must know we’ve been weakened… that we haven’t the strength to…”
I waited, but she said no more.
Norma turned back, red-eyed gaze seeking Meisha and I. No words were spoken, but after a moment, Meisha nodded.
“What did she say?” I whispered.
Meisha leaned in until her lips brushed my ear. “If the shield should falter, even for a moment, we are to run.”
“What will happen if the shield falls?”
Her hand clenched my arm. “Then the only barrier between these vengeful creatures and all of Tarak will fall.”
My breath caught in my throat as her grip loosened. Icy winds scraped at my flesh, causing the tiny hairs covering my skin to stand on end. Icicles gathered on the trees. The leaves froze. My rapid breath puffed out in a white cloud before my face. A rock settled in my stomach, and time slowed down as the reality of her words set in.
“This is the day!” Marcalus screamed, and then, a blast of freezing wind smashed into all of us, pulling me from Meisha’s grip and knocking me back into a tree.
I rose as fast as I could, on legs that shook. My body ached from the impact of my back smashing against the tree, but my small pains faded in the face of the dark magic before me.
The black smoke coming from Gadagus’s fingertips transformed into a thick oily substance that shot out, covering the red shield and spreading across it. In several places, it ate through, spilling onto the ground beneath the trees. With it, a putrid stench of death and decay rose like a smoke.
The half-lizard creatures gathered at these holes, and Norma’s army moved closer to their failing shield. At last, one of the Undead stepped through a hole. A scaly wolf roared as he pounced on the creature, slaughtering it with ease. But his quick death did nothing to stop more from coming. Warriors fought these creatures too, but more man-sized holes spread, and other lizard-men entered.
Scents of smoke and wet reptile filled the air, along with screams, and the sounds of swords striking. I fought the freezing winds that sought to keep me pinned me to the ground. Strands of hair sliced my face, while my cape snapped around my body.
My hands clenched, and that’s when I realized my dagger was gone. My gaze scanned the ground, but my search was in vain.
I was weaponless.
Above us, the red shield turned the color of blood and shuddered. A groan, like metal bending and twisting, split the air. I held my ears, nearly losing my balance as the earth trembled.
“Time to go!” Meisha screamed, suddenly at my side.
The groaning stopped, as if it were a great creature taking a deep breath.
My feet wouldn’t move. “Aren’t we going to fight?”
A fierceness stole over her features. “This is not my battle. Not our battle. Let them die for their precious kingdom. We did not ask for this.”
Her answer shocked me. I knew what she could become, what she was capable of. And she was a Protector wasn’t she? Why was she running now?
And could I live with myself if I did the same?
Rapid images flashed through my mind of all I stood to lose if the wizards were unleashed on Tarak, followed by ones filled with the gore these wizards could cause. I’d been forced into this situation against my will, but now I realized The Protectors were all that stood between revenge-seeking wizards and Sirena, Asher, and all the innocent people of Tarak. And through some twist of fate, I’d been thrown in a position where I might be able to keep them safe.
So far, I only knew two goddesses true names, Promethia and Artemay. But which name would help me most? The Goddess of Fire could create destruction, but I might just as easily hurt one of our own as I could the Undead. Which left the Goddess of Protection.
“Get a hold of yourself,” Meisha ordered, painfully grabbing my shoulder. “Nothing would be accomplished by our deaths here.”
> Something in the air had changed. The mutated people seemed to sense it too. There was a desperation to their attacks on the Undead creatures, a lack of reasonable thought or planning, as if this were their first day of battle.
Some of the people ran. Others stood unmoving, expressions of disbelief twisting their inhuman faces.
Did they think this was the end too?
“Move!” Meisha shoved me.
I stumbled, shaking my head. “We can’t just walk away from this.”
Her eyes widened. “Why? You and I are the same. We did not want any of this. We are not meant for killing and war. Let me take you out of this, somewhere safe.”
I ignored her, focusing my attention on the faltering shield.
“Artemay.” I whispered the Goddess of Protection’s name, feeling even as I spoke it that the sound was wrong. “Artemay,” I said again, emphasizing each syllable. But again, it was wrong.
“What are you saying?” Meisha shouted, shaking my shoulders. “Have you lost your senses?”
Using all my force, I shoved her back. Her amber eyes were wild as she stared at me. Then she shook her head… and ran.
My hand trembled as I reached towards the shield, concentrating on a memory I hoped to forget, the memory of my fall from the glass bridge. My stomach cramped. Nausea bubbled as the clear feeling of life-altering pain flashed, but I pushed it aside, concentrating again on the way I’d spoken her name. Terrible screams filtered through my concentration, but I pushed these sounds aside as well.
“Artemay,” I said, only this time the name blossomed from my lips. It was a song, the whistle of a bird on a lonely night, the last words spoken from a mother to her dying child.
A wisp of pale light shot from my fingertips to the blood red shield. It spread out on impact, and my legs trembled beneath me. Warmth, so hot it was nearly a fire, singed my skin. The trees beside me blackened.
“Artemay!” I screamed. The wisp of light grew in brilliance, now a raging river exploding from my body and into the faltering shield.
My white light filled the holes created by the wizard’s magic, reinforcing the shield. The sounds of creatures snarling and growling, and the screeching of animals in pain grew quieter. My ears strained to pick out the soft moans and heavy panting signaling an end to the battling.
