by Timothy Ray
“I’m fine,” he answered gruffly. “Where did you guys come from?”
“Uh, we’ve been here the whole time,” Windel replied from over his shoulder. “If I may, Sire? You do know that Elves spend years mastering the art of blocking people from their minds?” He reached down and stroked Merlin behind the ears. “Best not to change again until we’re in the King’s chambers,” he told the dog, who whined but was obviously enjoying the attention.
Willow was eyeing them with a newfound respect. “How long have you known?”
Preik smirked. “We sensed their presence when the boy touched our minds. We let him believe we were ignorant, but we used our thoughts to conceal our movements as we did our duty and watched over you. Had we sensed anything untoward, you can be sure we’d have been there in an instant. Traveling with an orc though, dangerous in times like this,” he finished, looking at the dog once more.
“A what?” Tristan uttered, thrown off guard.
Do not judge hastily, a voice spoke within his mind. Merlin’s eyes were boring into him, ears twitching.
“But an—?” he began.
“Sire, do not speak further, you do not want to draw unwanted attention,” Windel advised, placing a hand on his shoulder.
He became aware of his surroundings and the eyes watching them closely. They didn’t appear to be in earshot, but he couldn’t take a chance. Speaking of an orc in the vicinity of the castle might start a panic. “Noted.”
How can I know your intentions are good when you travel with a minion of darkness? he directed at the shapeshifting canine.
He was so focused on hearing an answer that he never saw the man approaching from his right. The elves were saying something to Willow; distracted by whatever they were discussing.
“The Phoenix sends her regards!” a man bellowed.
The entire world came to a grinding halt.
He heard the dog at his feet growl and watched as Preik’s and Windel’s bodies began to turn. Willow’s hand instinctively reached for her amulet. A few feet away a large man stood pointing a flintlock at him. He was broad shouldered and had a long-jagged scar on the right side of his pitted face.
There was a loud bang and a cloud of smoke billowed from the barrel of the pistol.
People screamed, yet he could still hear the hurried whispers of his betrothed. She was invoking her magic. Sharp pain exploded in his chest and his body was involuntarily thrown backward. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Merlin leap at the man’s throat. Magic burst from Willow’s outstretched hands and hit the torso of the assassin, flinging him back across the town square. Preik had fallen to the ground in a botched attempt to intercept the bullet ripping through his body. Windel had turned to try and catch him. He struck the cobblestones of the town square with a thud and heard the snap in his wrist before it added its voice to his agony.
His vision blurred and he felt his head begin to swim. Shadows were closing in as the life began to pour out of him. “So cold,” he moaned; his face felt numb. Someone was yanking on his good arm to turn him over.
“Tristan!” he heard his beloved cry as his eyes slipped shut. Then the darkness swallowed him.
Chapter 5
Clouds of Darkness
I
Tuskar padded to her side, his hair bristling at the sight of her companions. He distrusted Reyna’s scent and she had to agree with his judgment; she didn’t care much for her either. The boy looked like a true innocent while his sister—
She shook her head. She didn’t understand why those two were so important.
A blind telepath and his over-protective mercenary sister? They claimed allegiance to no one and she doubted that they could be trusted. Yet the mage had invited them with open arms and given them a place in their group; with no misgivings whatsoever. She was not so easily won over and would keep an eye on them until they gave her a reason not to. She sensed that would be a long time coming.
Surprisingly, she was more at ease with the orc joining them on their crusade than those two. Reyna was pacing back and forth next to the lake, eyes darting towards the castle in the distance. She was probably trying to decide if she should defy her orders and go after them. Let her try.
Tuskar growled in agreement.
The wolf nudged her with his snout and she glanced down at him. No, I’ll be fine. Go get something to eat, she told him through their telepathic link.
The bond between them was so strong they could sense each other’s thoughts and emotions from miles away. She’d been born with the ability to speak to animals. It had freaked her mother out when she was younger and she smiled at the flashes of distant memories. After all, that was all she had left of her mother, and not a day went by that she didn’t miss her.
Her mother had been a maid in Griedlok’s palace long before her birth. As a child, Kylee would see her off to work every morning, then spend the day at a neighbor’s until she returned later that evening. It was on one of those babysitting visits that she made a startling discovery, she could speak to her neighbor’s dog.
He told her his true name was Aener, after his grandfather. Not Lazo, as the farmer had taken to calling him. She had tried telling the farmer’s wife what she had learned, but was ignored and brushed off. Hurt that she couldn’t share her new abilities, she had retreated back to the barn and spent the evening talking to her newfound friend instead. From that moment on, the two of them were inseparable; establishing a friendship stronger than that of any of the local children she was forced to play with. The other children laughed and jeered when they saw her talking to the dog, not believing that she was actually having a two-sided conversation. The laughter never lasted long; as Aener would step between them and growl, sending the panicked kids packing.
It didn’t take much of that to thwart the other children from teasing her; she never missed their presence one bit.
Then her mother came home from work one night and in a frenzy, packed their things, and dragged her protesting daughter from their home. They were on the road south an hour later. Aener had tried to follow, but his mother kept shooing him away, until finally, she looked back to find the road empty and her best friend gone from her life forever. Crying, she had resisted her mother’s tugging, and almost got her arm pulled out of the socket in the process.
It didn’t take long for her to discover the reason for her mother’s erratic behavior; she was pregnant.
They had traveled south to her uncle’s farmstead; far beyond the reach of Griedlok and the only home she’d ever known. It was in a less populated area and there were far less children to shun her. Instead, she found new friends in the large variety of livestock her uncle kept and had endless cornfields to play in.
Lost in her new surroundings, she had eventually forgotten Aener and threw herself into helping the farmer maintaining his farm. Her uncle didn’t complain, it was an extra set of hands he considered paid for by the food she and her mother were consuming. He thought her odd, but learned to appreciate how well the animals could be herded with her assistance. She didn’t dare admit that she could talk to them, fear of how he’d react ensuring her to silence. Her uncle was human and was ignorant in the ways of magic and Elven culture. He never would have understood, and would likely punish her for lying to him.
She may understand what they were saying, but all anyone else heard were bahs and snorts. It was not an experience that could be shared.
Her uncle became the father figure she never had and she rejoiced at having his attention. He’d occasionally buy her gifts in exchange for the chores she did and spent afternoons teaching her how to track stray cows and sheep. He even began instructing her in the use of the bow, in case wild predators got through the fences. It was an amazing time for her and for the first time in her life, she was almost truly happy. Yet, no matter how much she came to love him, or how much he tried to fill that gap in her life, a dark cloud continued to hover over her heart.
Who was her real father?
/> She had tried to broach the subject with her mother, but had been instantly hushed and told never to ask again. It must’ve had to do with the palace where she worked, maybe a general or aide she met while working there. They were important enough that her mother considered it a taboo subject, and she learned quickly to not ask; lest she suffer her mother’s sharp tongue in response.
A baby boy was born to her mother in the early hours of a spring morning. They hadn’t been able to find a mid-wife—so her aunt had stepped in and did the job herself. Kylee had waited anxiously in the next room, knowing that something beautiful was happening and wanting to be a part of it. She heard the birth cries of her baby brother and it brought tears to her eyes.
Once she was allowed to go in and see the newborn being cradled in her mother’s arms, she felt tears of joy at the sight of the little pointed ears. She felt less alone in the world. She kissed her mother on the forehead and saw the relief in the older woman’s face that the ordeal was done.
When she wasn’t helping her mother with her baby brother, she was out amongst the livestock. They were the only friends she had to talk to and there was just too much to say. It was during this time that she had met her best friend and lifelong companion—Tuskar.
He had been a cub when she stumbled across him the in the forest. She’d been tracking his mother, using her growing skills and a bit of magic to do so. She entered the wolves’ den ready for a fight and found a pale white wolf pup abandoned to his fate. She knew that she should kill it, lest it turn into a fierce predator later, but the look in the pup’s eyes and the sound of his voice within her head stayed her hand.
She had taken him home with her, much to her uncle’s surprise and anger. She fought for the life of the pup with vehemence like never before. She stood her ground and hours later emerged from the farmhouse victorious.
They’d never been apart since.
As he grew older, she’d take him with her into the forest, and they’d spend their days tracking and hunting together. Others watched her from a distance with a mixture of awe and disgust; but she no longer cared. Only Tuskar’s opinion mattered.
It was a bitter irony that the one thing she hated about her life, being an outcast, had saved her life.
She and Tuskar had spent the morning tracking and she was headed back home with a brace of rabbits, when she heard a commotion coming from the direction of her uncle’s farm. She was only a few feet from the tree line when she came to a halt and stared across the cornfields in horror. Men on horseback were ordering soldiers to set fire to the house and barns. She was fixed to her spot, unable to do anything but cry, as her entire family was butchered before her eyes.
She had fallen to one knee, cowering in the shadows, and wept at the unspeakable tragedy unfolding in the fields beyond.
The man in charge of this grisly affair looked her way for a moment, eyes searching the tree line. Her heart had pounded in her chest at the chance of being seen. Tuskar growled at her side, and she had to physically restrain him to keep him from charging out there. They had become his family too. Then the man had dismounted, walked over to her kneeling uncle, and personally cleaved his head off.
She nearly screamed and had to bite her arm to keep silent. Her wolf companion whined and her soul cried with him. To this day, she bore the scars her teeth made; they were a constant reminder of that horrific moment and how quickly her life had changed.
Smoke was heavy upon the air as they backtracked to the wolves’ den she’d found Tuskar in. In the darkness of the cave, she fell into a fetal position and sobbed until sleep overtook her hours later. When she awoke, the moon was high in the night sky, and in the cover of darkness she made her way back to her uncle’s farm. The fire was still smoldering; the charred remains of the house and barn refusing to give in to the persistent flames.
Tentatively, she had stepped out of the trees, Tuskar a few feet ahead; ready to protect her if necessary. It didn’t matter; there wasn’t anyone left. The air had cleared a bit and she poked through what was left of the charred ruin, breaking into a fresh bout of tears at the sight of her mother and brother’s burnt remains. She rubbed her soot covered hands across her face, then turned and walked away; forever leaving her old life behind and journeying into the unknown world beyond.
For weeks, she had to rely on Tuskar to take care of her.
She had been unable to move, couldn’t hunt for food, and generally sat crouched by a stream in despair. She had been a broken shell incapable of seeing a future not shrouded in darkness. He brought her fresh game and protected her from the carnivores that came sniffing at the vulnerable prey encroaching their territory.
Over time, she had slowly returned to herself, though a more feral version, as she stalked the forest hunting game; killing with a ferocity alien to the person she had been. She had no recollection of how long she had been lost like that, but when she had finally regained some measure of her humanity, she came to realize the driving force pushing her on; vengeance. She vowed to find the men responsible for the deaths of her family and make them pay for what they’d done.
Vigorously, she had set about training herself with a renewed purpose. She became deadly with her bow and taught herself how to track her prey using magic. During that fragile time in the forest, she had been stripped down to her primal nature, and found that the bond with Tuskar had grown far stronger as a consequence. Exploring that connection, she soon learned that her magic could link their minds; making them one. Their thoughts mingled so much they no longer needed to guess at their partner’s intentions, knowing instantly what the other wanted or needed.
At times, she didn’t know where she ended and he began.
That kind of intimacy was like nothing she’d ever experienced and it nursed her through her despair in those dark days. What emerged from the forest a year later was far more deadly, experienced, and determined to seek out justice.
They found work taking the odd contract, employing their tracking skills to earn them money to live on. The occasional bear or mountain lion terrorizing farmers were quickly put down and their reputation had begun to grow. They migrated across the southern settlements, her eyes always searching for the faces in her nightmares; eager to find even a trace of their scent.
Her employers showed visible discomfort when her albino eyes fell upon them and flinched every time Tuskar growled; but she ignored it. The efficiency in her work kept them coming back. They were well paid, and soon she was adding to her weapons and armory, becoming deadlier as the seasons passed. Word of mouth increased business to the point where she could be pickier about which contracts to take.
She had been pursuing a fugitive for their bounty when she had run into Merlin.
He found her in a tavern, sitting in a booth alone, having just been paid for her bounty, and basking at the satisfaction of a job well done. He had plopped down in the seat across from her and had a dagger on his thigh before he could open his mouth. Only after convincing her that no harm had been intended, did she ease up and realize that he may be a potential client. She was about to brush him off and carry on with her celebrating, when he made a statement that froze her in place and heated her blood. He promised her that if she came with him, he’d put her face to face with the man that butchered her family.
Incensed, she had threatened him with violence if he didn’t give up their names. The commotion scared half the tavern folk and got them thrown out in the process.
“I don’t know where they are, but I know where they will be,” he had told her cryptically, as he had a habit of doing.
“And where is that?” had been her retort.
“Look, I’m going to be leaving now. I have a lot of road to cover and not a lot of time to do it. If you want to come along, great, if not—well, I’m sure you’ll pick something up to entertain you without too much effort. You can go back to your rootless meanderings and forget ever laying eyes on the men you seek. Or, you can come with me. It is a dangerous jou
rney and I cannot guarantee your safety. What I can promise, is that along the way you will get a chance to meet the men responsible for the death of your family, and you shall have your vengeance.”
It had been over two years since that fateful day and it tested her patience to keep silent; to not ask the names of the butchers that killed her family. She still took the odd contract when Merlin was away and her skills were not needed. He did that a lot. He’d disappear for weeks; sometimes months. Then he’d show up out of nowhere and in a rush to get back on the road. They had traversed most of the southern settlements before heading north along the western forest.
That was when they’d found Kore.
He had been covered in rags, his dark green skin cracked and peeling under the harsh sunlight. Dehydrated almost to the point of death, Merlin had worked tirelessly through the night to restore the orc’s health.
Personally, she wanted to put an arrow in him and be done with it. There was a lot of bad blood between the Orcs and Elves, and though she was an outcast of her race, her instincts still wanted to slice the dying man to pieces. Merlin had sensed this and commanded that she scout north to see if anyone was tracking the orc’s trail.
Infuriated, she had finally relented and left Kore in Merlin’s hands.
Three days later she returned to find Kore alive and on the road to recovery. She’d set into Merlin, the trust gained over the previous year almost breaking under the fury of their conversation. Even when the anger lost steam, she felt disgusted and sure that it was time to go on her own. She’d go back to her quest for vengeance and forget this crazy magician and his new pet orc.
It had taken time and more than a few reluctant conversations before she could even tolerate being in Kore’s presence. She spent more time on her own, hunting and tracking with Tuskar; trying to avoid the new addition to their party. She could be miles away and her magic could still keep track of the other’s progress. Merlin knew that she was near and didn’t push the issue. He had given her the space she needed.
