Duplicitous Magic

by Linn Tesli

  The stranger patted Zadewi. “We’ll take it back, gorgeous—just not today.” His warm, accented voice was confident.

  Zadewi folded her wings back, swirled around to change course, and turned from griffin Peak.

  A band of hawks with Silverling riders appeared at their rear. One massive bird rose from the base of the mountain.

  Creos’s voice boomed through the night as he joined the others.

  “Catch them!”

  Miro hugged Zadewi’s neck tightly, willing her to fly faster. He hurriedly retrieved a loaf of bread from his satchel along with his waterskin, which still hung from Zadewi’s saddle. He offered a piece to the stranger and took another for himself.

  Miro closed his eyes and breathed deeply. His body tingled. The sensation spread from his center to every inch of his body. He pushed air beneath Zadewi’s wings to aid her flight, which put some distance between themselves and the hawks. The stranger said nothing, though he was undoubtedly watching. Miro had not been able to hide what he had just done, nor did it seem crucial to do so given the circumstances.

  They managed to get far enough ahead of their followers that they did not have to worry about being struck by arrows. The sun had climbed into the sky when the boy spoke, for the first time since griffin Peak. There hadn’t been much time for pleasantries.

  “You wield air, yes?”

  Miro turned to him. The boy’s wild black hair and sunburned complexion suggested he was from Lycobris. If so, he had been on the wrong side of the peak, whatever his reason for being there.

  “And you’re a long way from home.”

  Neither of them said anything for a long time after that.

  Zadewi maintained a good distance from their followers for the remainder of the night and throughout the next day. They had stopped twice to catch their breath and refill the waterskin. Each time, they were forced to flee again as the Silverlings soared too close.

  On the second day, however, Miro’s strength was nearly spent. Fatigue crept in on him, and the hawks were gaining on them.

  The Lycobrian boy tapped Miro on his back. “If you wield air, could you use that to help us get out of this mess?” Miro hunched his shoulders, but the boy carried on, “Well, if you had, say, a source of energy, would you be able to draw strength from that?”

  Was the boy mocking him? His face was serious, looking Miro straight in the eyes. Miro scratched his head.

  “I suppose, maybe. All I know is that it’s helpful to have a full belly and a rested body. What did you have in mind?”

  “Fire.” The boy grinned.

  Miro snorted but considered it. He would do anything to outrun their followers. “If there were any flames up here, I guess I could. I’ve never really thought about it, but—”

  The boy raised a hand to silence him, smiling boastfully. “My name is Kenith, by the way, and I happen to have an affinity with fire.”

  Miro nearly toppled from Zadewi’s back. “If what you’re saying is that I need fire to gain energy, why don’t I simply draw the energy from the air all around us?” It was the best idea Miro had ever had.

  Zadewi shook her head. “Of course you can’t, you sapheads. If you decide you need to take air from air itself, how do you know you wouldn’t end up suffocating all of Aradria? Or at least those in closest proximity to you?”

  Shame rolled forth for wanting to test a theory on a whim. Miro felt foolish for not having considered the possible consequences of his actions.

  Zadewi floated on a current of air. “I think the boy—Kenith, is it?—I think he’s right in that it would be more controlled if you had a live source of energy, one which is more contained.”

  Kenith was already rubbing his palms together while breathing into them as if starting a fire with sticks.

  “However,” Zadewi said, dipping down as she hit an air pocket. “I think it might be dangerous for you to attempt pulling energy from Kenith. From what we’ve learned, the power you possess seems to originate from the very core of your existence. You have to consider the ramifications of using the gift you’ve been given. And don’t forget about Floin.”

  Miro’s chest tightened, and his lips trembled. He had not forgotten.

  “She’s right. I might end up killing you if I decide to steal from your energy to sustain my own.”

  Kenith stilled. “Let’s not do that, then.” Parting his hands, he shuddered. He stretched his arms, and his face brightened. “How about I attempt a little fiery increase in speed on my own?”

  Kenith turned back to back with Miro, who angled his head to look at him. Kenith rubbed his hands together again. Sparks flew from his palms before he separated them wide and created a flame. Miro’s eyes widened. It was like they had been meant to find each other.

  The flame grew into a small blaze, which Kenith pushed toward the wind. The impact made the wind turn, boosting Zadewi’s momentum. The hawks fell further back.

  “It works,” Zadewi yipped, angling her wings.

  Kenith managed to keep it up for the remainder of the day and throughout the following night, but they never lost sight of the hawks still in pursuit. As the sun rose on another day, Miro glanced over at Kenith. He was shivering and pale, despite his sunburned complexion.

  “You need to stop.”

  Kenith shook his head cautiously. “They’re still on our tail.”

  Miro placed one hand on Kenith’s shoulder. “If you don’t stop, I fear you might die. You’ve been spending too much energy, and we’ve not eaten in days. Enough now.”

  Kenith nodded weakly. He lowered his hands and sagged against Miro.

  “Boys!” Zadewi called.

  Miro turned back. Bermunnos Mountain stood straight ahead. It had been on the horizon for a while, but now the mountain range towered tall and wide before them.

  “We might be able to shake them off once we’re among the rocks—there will be plenty of crooks and bends there, don’t you think? Your smaller size will be an advantage. The hawks will have much more trouble navigating through.” Miro hardly had faith in his own words.

  “You mean if we get that far,” Zadewi said.

  She was right. There were other dangers they might face within Bermunnos.

  The air vibrated with the flapping of wings. Piercing shrieks came from behind—the hawks were gaining on them. Creos bellowed for the boys and Zadewi to land.

  Wind chased around them as Miro urged Zadewi onward. He tried his best to fend off their pursuers by creating a headwind to slow them down. But, he was low on energy, and his attempts was feeble.

  Even with more strength, however, it would have been futile. The Vulkan hawks on their trail were used to riding the air, however it came. It didn’t help that the Silverlings on their backs were whipping them forward.

  “Land now, and we’ll not harm you,” Creos yelled through the whirling wind.

  That was likely to happen only when all the air was gone from the world.

  “Not a chance,” Miro shouted back.

  Creos ordered his men to nock their arrows. “Aim only for the griffin. Do not mortally wound the boys.”

  The band of Silverlings raised their bows, taking aim in perfect synchronization. Arrows rained through the sky. Mustering up whatever energy was left in him, Miro threw one arm out, deflecting the arrows as best he could by turning the wind. His breath became laboured, and he was beginning to feel lightheaded.

  He gasped as an arrow grazed his left bicep. It burned as if someone had seared him with a marking iron.

  Creos turned his aim at the one responsible for wounding Miro. He released an arrow and struck the Zila’r-nath in the hollow of his neck. The Silverling fell from his hawk’s back.

  “Aim for the griffin,” Creos bellowed. “Land, younglings,” he called to the boys and the griffin.

  “Are you daft?” Miro yelled. He leaned forward and whispered. “I need you to fly straight, Zadewi. Hang on for a bit longer.”

  She squawked and regain
ed speed, though she must have begun to feel the strain too. She heaved with every motion.

  Kenith leaned heavily on Miro’s back. Refusing to give up, Miro linked his right arm to Kenith’s left to ensure he did not fall off. Miro was not about to allow any of them to be taken captive again. Not without spending every last bit of energy he had on fending off the Silverlings.

  A horn sounded from within the mountain range. The wind increased as a flock of griffins ascended from Bermunnos. A drowning sensation washed over Miro. They were trapped. They couldn’t land, and they certainly had no chance of escaping if they attempted to fly toward the ocean.

  Their best bet would be to try to fly into the midst of griffins and endeavor to avoid being caught in the process. It was a fool’s errand.

  They closed in on the griffins and their Earthling riders, members of the Ahddamssons. They were dressed in gold armor that protected their chests, shins, and groins, but they wore nothing else on their muscular, golden-skinned bodies.

  The Earthlings were allied to no one, least of all to anyone this side of the mountain. Zadewi was not even half the size of the Bermunnos griffins.

  “Fly straight, then bank sideways to try and avoid the griffins on the right flank,” Miro told Zadewi.

  She sped up.

  Chocolate-colored eyes met Miro’s as he looked straight into the face of one of the Ahddamssons they were headed toward. His curly hair was a golden color, cut close to his skull, creating Earthling tribal patterns where his skin was exposed. He flashed a disconcerting grin at Miro, showcasing a row of gleaming white teeth.

  Zadewi banked hard to the right, but the Earthlings had anticipated their move. Two griffins mirrored her change in direction. All too quickly their beaks clutched Zadewi’s shoulder joints. The Ahddamssons on their backs pointed their swords at Miro. Behind them, the Zila’r-nath slowed.

  The Ahddamsson who had grinned at Miro now yelled at the Silverlings, “This is neutral territory. You cannot enter this airspace.”

  - Creos -

  Creos held a fist in the air, signaling that his band of riders should hang back. His thundering voice easily travelled the distance between him and the Earthlings.

  “We only want the boys.” He flew his hawk closer.

  “They belong to us now,” the Earthling replied.

  “I have orders from the King of Aradria to bring them in.” Creos did not attempt to hide his fury. The Earthlings would be right to fear him.

  The Ahddamsson raised his voice in disgust, and his cobalt and pearl-colored griffin squawked in warning. “We don’t answer to him.” The Earthling spat the words as his fellow warriors closed ranks.

  “We’re not here to fight you, Earthling. Not this day. Give me the boys.” Impatient, Creos flew just close enough to stare the Earthling in the eye.

  Recognition struck as Creos remembered a day, some sixteen years ago—the day when he had slain griffins in their homes and watched his brother’s killers barely escape his grasp. The Earthling was better equipped this time.

  His enemy raised a fist in the air. “Go back, and keep your lives.” The Earthling would not budge.

  Though he was less than inclined to heed to the instruction, the Silverlings were outnumbered and, as had already been pointed out, in neutral territory. Besides, Creos wanted to make sure that the next time they met he would return home to place the Ahddamsson’s head on a stake in the courtyard of Cergentos.

  “What the king wants is his for the taking. No matter your neutrality. Remember that. We’ll meet again, Earthling.” Creos gestured to his men, and they turned to fly back from whence they had come. He did not look forward to letting the king know he had failed to capture the airwielder. Worse yet, that he’d had the boy but let him slip out of his grasp. The Heartless King was certainly not known for his forgiving nature.

  - Miro -

  Miro let out a breath of relief. “Thank you.”

  The Earthling eyed Miro carefully. The look on his face made Miro cringe. Had they gone from walking on embers to the furnace itself?

  “I am Birken—and don’t thank me yet, Caradrean. My people aren’t exactly fond of yours. Your fate doesn’t rest with me, I’m afraid. At least, not entirely.” The Earthling tightened his lips.

  Ropes were strung around Zadewi’s neck, and an Ahddamsson climbed onto her back to bind Miro’s hands and ride with him. A female Ahddamsson moved the nearly lifeless Kenith onto her griffin, where she forcefully poured water down his throat.

  They flew along the top of the mountain, following the length of a flowing waterfall until they arrived at the rift. Where the ground swung out on either side of the falls, it parted the growing riverbank along with it.

  The Chasm of Bermunnos unfolded as they banked sideways and followed the inside of the hollow.

  Miro had heard tales of Bermunnos when he was growing up, but nothing had fully described what lay in front of him. Both sides of the chasm’s interior were carved out into numerous floors that extended downward, deeper than the eye could see—perhaps into the very heart of the earth.

  Paths, staircases, ropes, and bridges connected the levels throughout. All were crafted with precision and skill. Wood, as well as stone, was carved with bold patterns reminiscent of those on Birken’s head. The walls were embedded with jewels of every kind.

  The top three floors were home to hundreds of griffins. Miro’s heart skipped a beat. He had not known there were so many of them left.

  The next three floors were filled with catapults and weapons of every kind. No houses were built on these floors, and Ahddamssons patrolled all of them.

  As they flew further in, the chasm opened wider before them. Small stone huts and houses were situated in a seemingly endless number of floors that reached into the mountain’s interior. One level had even been set aside solely for farming. Miro’s stomach growled at the sight of the growing crops. The strong odor of fertilized soil felt strangely pleasant.

  An enormous round platform rose up in the middle of the open space. It was accessed via numerous bridges—at least fifteen on either side of it. Stone columns ascended from its base at every entry point. At one end lay five stone seats that looked as if they had been carved from the very stone on which they sat.

  They were headed straight for the platform.

  It concealed the remaining floors, which Miro expected continued further down. He did not care to know what one would find in the shadows beneath.

  The Earthling leaned Miro’s way, flashing his teeth again. “We call it the Eye, Caradrean. That’s where we’ll decide your fate.”

  Thank you for reading!

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  About the Author

  Tesli would absolutely love to hear from you. You can write her at any time:

  mail@linntesli.com

  Linn Tesli is an author of fantastical stories, for people of all ages. As a previous freelance journalist, she's also written both magazine articles, movie reviews, and feature stories.

  As a child, making up stories was how she made her days brighter. She believes that it's an extraordinary thing to be able to dive into words to escape the reality one lives in.

  In addition to being a mother, a wife, a sister, and a writer, Tesli is a dreamer. She’s also an overachiever, and a klutz. However, she takes her writing very seriously, and began at an early age. She also loves to draw (but was never really that good at it. Don't tell her).

  www.linntesli.com

  Acknowledgments

  There are a lot of people I would like to thank for contributing to this series. First, my childhood friends, for always believing in me, and for allowing the wonderful world of make-believe come to life when I needed the escape from reality the most—which, to be honest, was rather frequent!

  To Michael Baker for creating the map. To my other helpful editors for going above and beyond what was pr
omised.

  And last, but certainly not least, a big thank you to my readers, whoever you're. I am grateful that you took the time to open Ominous, and I hope you have enjoyed the read!

  And to all the rest of you–you know who you're!

  My wish is that you'll always have magic in your lives.

  Glossary

  World:

  Aradria

  Lands:

  Êvina, the Land of Spirit:

  Êvina City

  Beregend

  Blanchess Bay

  Avionnè

  Sonûdor, the Land of Earth:

  Sonûdor Forest

  Bermunnos Mountain

  Mother Tree; Tree of Aradria

  The Mother Lake

  Woodling Maimôna

  Caradrea, the Land of Air:

  Caradrea

  Plains of Caradrea

  Catyan Forest

  Bermunnos Mountain

  Griffin Peak

  Cazib

  Cergentos

  Lycobris, the Land of Fire:

  Vulkan Mountain

  Vulkan

  Arvaex

  Elfen Lyconis

  Griffin Peak

  Vulkan wastelands

  Ùnda, the Land of Water:

  Njordhall

  Siren Bay

  Merri Docks

  Mar-ôen Islands

  Njordis Glacier

  Hot Springs

  Mar-Ôen Islands

  Cliffs of Nayaneiri

  Oceans:

  Ûndahav Ocean

  Mer-Ùna Ocean