“If it makes you feel any better, I only woke up five minutes before you appeared. I know about what you saw, but it’s hazy,” the forest tracker says while piling food on his plate. He reaches for a platter of small steaks, which moves closer to his hand. “So, what are we supposed to do now?”
“You eat and regain your energy,” Dariana states as an image of her appears next to each of her guests. She sees Fizzle flitting around the table in search of apples and a smaller version of her appears on his back. “I made a special table for you, little dragon. I read how much you love apples, so I have types from all over Windemere and history.”
A recessed table rises out of the floor and a towering pile of apples grows from its smooth surface. There are kinds of every color and size, including one at the top that is shaped like a crimson crescent moon. Fizzle drools on Timoran, who is unfortunate enough to be sitting beneath the hovering drite. With a small nod from the tiny Dariana, the dragon dives into the delicious stack and sends a few bouncing onto the floor. The fallen fruit reappear in the bowl, which grows to accommodate the drite’s sloppy eating habits. Fizzle’s first bite is from a purple apple that has honey at its core, which causes him to go limp and blissfully nestle among the food.
“This feels awkward,” Delvin claims while taking a sip of delicious coffee. He reaches out to touch his Dariana’s arm, but his hand passes through her. “I thought so. You’re nothing more than a phantom in here. Am I wrong in guessing that the only solid versions of you are those in your memory?”
“That does not make sense,” Timoran mentions from across the table. “The child version that appeared in Shayd was able to touch us.”
“I hugged her,” Sari points out while tasting a sweet wine. “She wasn’t part of the memory, but she wasn’t definitely solid.”
“All of you are correct,” the Darianas say in unison. They bow to each other and point at the one standing next to Nyx, who continues talking. “My past is done and unchangeable, so they are more . . . solid. If you attempted to interact with my memories then you would be the one to become a ghost and pass through. Yet I can touch you and let you touch me if it is a focused image like the child. This is something I can only do when I have visitors or am in the mind of someone else.”
“Like with me and Sari,” Luke interjects, leaning back in his wide-backed chair.
“Sari was an accident when the Compass Key was reactivated,” the young woman explains with a kind smile to the gypsy. “I sought Luke out intentionally because I felt him calling for help. I should not have helped you, young Callindor, but it did not feel right to leave you suffering. Oh, I’m sorry if my words give you the wrong impression, Sari. I have no romantic intentions on your lover. I know how jealous you’ve been getting recently since you and Luke have tried to stop your relationship. It must hurt so much.”
The blue-haired girl blushes and stares at her plate, taking a few deep breaths to remain calm. “Are you reading my mind?”
“All of your hearts, minds, and pasts have been laid bare for me.”
A pie explodes and a pot of soup bubbles over as a circle of flame surrounds the small group. The flames turn from red to blue, their crests reaching for a ceiling that they will never find. Fizzle burrows into the apples, his eyes peering out at Nyx whose face is red with an intense rage. Sweat runs down everyone’s body and they gladly drink ice water that appears in front of them. With a loud snap, the fire turns to aromatic smoke and drifts into the distance. Nyx glares at the nearest Dariana, but is surprised to see that she is crying.
“I’m really sorry,” the silver-haired woman says, her body turning transparent. She kneels next to the half-elf and desperately clasps her hands. “I’m so lonely in here and each of your minds was calling to me. If it makes you feel better, my mind and heart has been left open to you. All that I am is in your mind if you seek for it.”
“That does make it a little more palpable,” Delvin admits as he uses a fork to scoop some pie off a tray of yams. With a shrug, he licks the golden goo off the utensil and is surprised at the tangy and tart taste. “That’s a new flavor. So how much do you know about us, Dariana? Do you know all of our secrets?”
“You hold no secrets, Delvin Cunningham the Mercenary Prince,” she replies with a friendly smile. For an instant, Dariana’s smile turns into a look of apprehension and she glances around the table. Her white eyes grow blue irises, the color reminiscent of cloudless skies. “I don’t know of any way to prove what I know without saying things that I should keep hidden. There’s the love between Luke and Sari, which I’m sure everyone knows about. Timoran . . . I will make a special case for you and purge what I know from my mind once I am awake.”
“Thank you,” the barbarian states with a sigh of relief. “Why not do it for all of us?”
“It’s a dangerous procedure and it will include removing this part of the conversation from everyone else. I would only do it in certain situations. Will you wake me up now?”
“I want to know what Nyxie’s secret is,” Sari mischievously replies, grinning at her childhood friend. “Consider it a test of our new friend’s declaration. It’s all been vague statements and saying what any mind reader could get with a surface scan.”
The Dariana near Sari scowls at the gypsy while the one near Nyx rubs her knuckles against her temples. The only sounds are of Fizzle devouring apples and Luke serving himself a slab of cake, both noises traveling throughout the white void. Floating into the middle of the table, all of the Darianas meet to whisper and argue over what to do. Their words are hidden from the others, but the gestures show that all of them are annoyed. One of them jabs a finger into another’s face, resulting in an echoing smack in the head. Before a fight can break out, the quietest of them opens her mouth to release a scream that only the others can hear. With a nod of her head, the victor returns to Nyx’s side and bows her head.
“I will not tell your secrets like your friend wants. I know what she is after and she can get that information on her own. It will be more fun for her that way,” Dariana announces, turning her head to Sari. The gypsy holds up her hands in defeat and goes back to her wine, frowning when she sees that it has been replaced by water. “Would you be so kind as to wake me up? We must be off to Bor’daruk and I’m curious to see what it is like these days. I have not been to the southern deserts in nearly two hundred years.”
“How do we wake you up?” Luke asks, wolfing down his food in fear of it being taken away any second. “Eat quicker, Fizzle, because we might be back in the forest soon.”
“Luke have good idea,” the drite mumbles from inside the apple stack.
The Darianas glance from the warrior to the dragon and the one near Timoran curiously asks, “Are they normally like that?”
“They have their moments, but Luke gets famished if he changes form too much,” the barbarian replies, pouring himself another cup of whiskey. “Then again, you probably knew that already. I worry that we are at a disadvantage with you. At least when inside your mind, so I would like to leave.”
“I apologize for not mentioning this earlier,” Dariana nervously says. She cringes at the groans from her guests and nervously wrings her hands. “I’m not permitted to tell you how to undo my curse.”
“Then how-” Delvin begins.
The warrior stops when Nyx gets to her feet and creates a ball of aura in her palm, happy to have access to her magic again. A knowing smile appears on her Dariana’s face and she politely accepts the orb. The woman shimmers as her body is absorbed into the energy, making Nyx’s fiery aura appear with a fringe of silver light.
“She said we can look at her past and mind too,” the half-elf states while she sits down and catches her breath. Her head is swimming and she can barely keep her eyes open, the sleepiness telling her she made the right decision. “That means we’re connected at the deepest levels. The only thing we don’t share with her is the curse, which is coming from her aura. If we give her some of our ene
rgy then she can purge herself of the contamination and wake up. It’s a common method of sleeping curse removal. Hurry up and we’ll be out of here soon.”
Delvin is the first to follow Nyx’s example with a yellow orb that is nearly the size of his head. Like the caster, his powerful aura appears around his body with a silver edging that is barely noticeable against the pure white. One by one the others give some of their essence to a patiently waiting Dariana until only Timoran remains. He struggles to create an orb from his minimal level of magic, his fear of casting spells making it difficult. Growling in frustration, the barbarian gets to his feet and holds both of his hands out, but only manages to create a flicker of orange energy. With no other ideas, he draws his great axe and focuses on the weapon to gather the needed aura. A dense, coin-sized ball of orange aura appears along the edge and he hands it to the patient Dariana. He frowns at the laughter and applause from Luke and Sari, but the corners of his mouth threaten to turn the expression into a proud smile.
“Thank you, my new friends,” the final Dariana whispers before vanishing. “I apologize for the discomfort that the next step will cause.”
The white area dissolves and the adventurers find their senses are swirling around a terrifying void. For a second, Delvin sees the forest through someone else’s eyes and notices that his body has been bound. Sari feels the softness of a mattress before the touch of grass strikes her bare legs. Nyx can barely focus on the area as whatever she has merged with zips around the clearing, the motion making her think she is a fly. Before their minds snap from the pressure of being tossed around multiple bodies, a low mumbling rolls through the trees and pushes each of the champions into their proper form. Their eyes open to find the mist has vanished and they have been wrapped in enchanted ropes.
“Good afternoon, dear champions,” Stephen says while he holds Nyx by the throat. He lifts the groggy half-elf off her feet, lowering her when Trinity smacks his side. “As you can see, we decided to restrain you and I took the liberty of claiming a trophy. How was your meeting within the head of our mutual friend?”
“What did you do to Nyx?” Sari asks as she slips out of her bonds. The gypsy immediately freezes, her hand gently pressing a dagger against her own throat. “You cowardly bastard. Let me go!”
“He didn’t do anything. The ropes and your current situation is all me,” Trinity answers with a wave of her hand. The amber ropes around her rival begin to disappear, but suddenly grow tighter when her fingers twist in unnatural directions. “That hurt, Stephen! Fix my hand and let me drop the spell. You don’t like it when your women and your enemies are unable to fight back.”
“True, but she’s awake now,” he replies, hungrily licking his lips. “I’m sure she has a few good screams in her. The look on her friends’ faces will be priceless too.”
Stephen releases Nyx at the same time he smacks Trinity in the face, sending the chaos elf into a tree. The sound of her impact is muffled by a cushion of air that she creates against her back, but she is still dazed from the initial blow. Impressed by his companion’s reflexes, Stephen casually turns back to Nyx and receives a solid punch to his mouth. The unexpected attack holds enough force to make him lean away from Dariana, who picks one of his teeth out of her knuckles. She swings her leg at his head and he puts his arms up to block, but his opponent’s limb disappears like a hazy mirage. Unable to defend himself, the strong knee to his stomach causes Stephen to double over and gasp for air. Not wanting to fight any more, he draws his bastard sword and aims it at Nyx, which forces Dariana to step in front of the caster. The black-haired man makes a playful jab and is surprised when the champion kicks the weapon from his grasp, her bare foot unharmed by the edge of the blade.
“You’re still an annoying weakling,” Stephen states, his weapon returning to its leather scabbard. He rubs his stomach as he checks on Trinity and heals her minor injuries. “I guess you’re back in the game. I can’t say I’m happy to see you since we’ve been doing this dance for centuries.”
“Leave my friends and I alone,” Dariana demands in a quivering voice.
“Your friends?”
“Yes.”
“Do you really want to make it that easy?”
“Please don’t say it.”
With a cruel smile, Stephen claps his hands and the bonds around the adventurers sputter out of existence. He stares at Dariana who remains between him and Nyx, the caster bathed in fire that ripples around her body. Turning on his heel, the immortal nobleman grabs Trinity by the arm and they vanish from the clearing. The adventurers relax and release their held breaths, but draw their weapons when Stephen reappears.
“I almost forgot how bad you are at introductions,” he says, grinning like a demon. He bows to the silver-haired champion as his body fades away. “May I introduce all of you to Dariana . . . Kernaghan. Enjoy your new friends, little sister. Father and I will be watching you as usual.”
5
Dariana sits on the edge of her bed, her white eyes nervously darting from one person to another. Her muscles ache from being pushed so soon after waking up, her right calf feeling like it is strained. The pain is a welcomed sign that she is no longer asleep even though the tension in the air nearly chokes her. The woman is tempted to read their surface thoughts, but knows it would only make her situation worse. It is difficult enough to ignore the sensations she is feeling from the other champions’ mix of emotions, which call out to Dariana like sirens. Nyx and Delvin are especially hard to put out of her mind, so she focuses on humming the harp section of her favorite song. She stops when everyone glances at her, their eyes holding more caution than warmth.
“I’ll say the obvious,” Delvin announces, leaning against a tree with his arms crossed. “I fear this is a trap, but it makes no sense if it is. Dariana is obviously the sixth champion and Stephen doesn’t like her.”
“That could be to ingratiate her to us,” Timoran points out from where he is sitting on the ground. “I am sorry, Dariana, but we need to be cautious. It makes no sense to me why Gabriel would put the daughter of our greatest enemy on our side.”
“That’s the only part I’ve figured out,” the brown-haired warrior interjects before their new companion can speak. “It’s to take a powerful weapon out of the Baron’s hands. He already has Stephen, so Dariana would be too much. The sides need to be somewhat even.”
“I can explain if people wish for me to speak,” the nervous woman offers, meekly staring at her feet.
Sari eyes her while juggling three daggers and her money pouch. “You don’t have to ask permission. Being timid isn’t going to endear you to us. If anything, it makes you more suspicious. So drop the act and be your true self like when we were in your head.”
“But . . . this is the real me,” Dariana replies, her silver hair shimmering when sunlight hits it. She steps away from the beam, fearing that someone might think she is using her powers to distract them. “Everyone is stronger and . . . better in their own mind. My power is greatest when I’m asleep, so that is where I’m more confident. In the real world, I’m a freak of magic and the daughter of an evil man. I have very little reason to be brave here because it would give off the wrong impression.”
Fizzle lands on her shoulder and is surprised at the way she tenses. He stretches his body to stare into her eyes, which he notices are disguised by a thick coating of solid aura. Underneath the layered illusions are blue irises identical to Stephen’s and a depth that mesmerizes the curious dragon. Fizzle snaps out of his trance when he feels a cool hand tickle his chin. He licks Dariana’s fingers, causing her to pull them away and attempt to get away from the drite. She falls off the bed and stays sitting on the ground, refusing to see if the others are still paying attention to her.
“You know, she did help Luke with the Dark Wind curse,” Sari says, tucking her daggers into her skirts. “Though she did take that help back, but that was because she had been punished, right? So she’s already helped save your life, Luke.�
�
“Nimby did that too and look what happened there,” he bitterly responds, feeling guilty about the words as soon as he hears them. “I’m sorry, Dariana, but I’ve been tricked by an agent of your father before. You saved me twice and I thank you for that. It’s just that . . . I’m scared to trust you and leave myself open to another betrayal.”
“We would be fools if we were not cautious,” Timoran calmly adds, narrowing his gaze at the woman. He is quietly amazed at how frail and timid she is considering that she was beating on Stephen less than an hour ago.
“This is a lot more complicated than any of us ever expected,” Delvin groans while rubbing his eyes. The warrior approaches Dariana and offers her help in standing, her eyes still locked on her dirt-caked feet. “How about explaining why the daughter of our enemy was made a champion? That might shed some light on what we’re dealing with.”
“All of you should know if you search your minds. My past is part of you now.”
“I don’t like that you planted memories in my head!” Sari angrily snaps, storming over to Dariana. She has to stand on her toes to get close to the taller woman’s face, but the gypsy is still too short to be intimidating. “I refuse to search for these thoughts. In fact, take them out of my head because I don’t trust them. Do it to all of us because that isn’t how you get people to understand you.”
Dariana flicks Sari’s forehead, creating a spark of magic that drifts into the air and disappears in the sunlight. From a distance, she makes the same motion toward the other champions who wince at the sensation of being flicked by an invisible hand. One by one a spark rises from their heads and vanishes until only Nyx remains, the quiet caster staring at the clouds while lying on her back. Nothing happens when Dariana tries to remove her memories from the young woman who begins whistling an Elven lullaby. She tries again and feels a hand of warmth push her against the bed, the hazy form touching her cheek before dispersing. The urge to try again rises in her chest, but she is too scared to go through with another attempt. It takes her a few seconds to realize that she cannot remove her memories because the half-elf is currently looking through them.
Sleeper Of The Wildwood Fugue (Book 7) Page 9
