The Enchanted Emerald (The Enchanted Stones Book 1)

by Donald Craghead

“Where did they go? Damn him and his cloaking spell!”

  Milo sat on the floor, resting against the wall. He was paleskinned, and his face was slack from the blood that Acantha had pulled from him recently. He tried to look up at Acantha when she spoke, but he lacked the energy to raise his head.

  “I saw them as they approached, so they must be nearby.” She continued to stare into the blood-filled crystal bowl, ignoring the whimpers that came from her discarded slave against the wall.

  As she watched, Michael and Oliver finally moved past the area of influence of his cloaking spell. An evil, tooth-filled grin came over Acantha as she saw the two appear.

  “I think this is far enough, Oliver.”

  “Far enough for what?” asked Oliver.

  Now that Michael had Oliver alone, he was unsure of how to break the spell that Acantha had placed on him. He would need to be careful, he did not want to put Oliver at risk if he didn’t have to. Now with Acantha’s keep in sight, Michael was approaching the first true test of his powers against hers.

  Michael gestured to the ground and suggested they sit in comfort.

  Oliver’s eyebrows lowered to hood his eyes, his lips parted showing teeth in an evil grin. “No, I’ll stand.” The malicious look that had come over Oliver was gone as quickly as it came. He gave no indication that he was aware of any change.

  Michael was aware now that Acantha was with him, through Oliver. “Somewhere along the trip, Acantha visited one of us. She used her magic to enslave that person, and used him to work against us.”

  “One of us?” asked Oliver, eyes wide in surprise. Quickly his brows knit again, and a thick voice came from his suddenly sneering lips, “I wonder who that could be.”

  “Oliver?” Michael spoke his name to get back in touch with the friend he knew, rather that the slave that was controlled by Acantha.

  “Yes, I heard you,” he replied. “So who is it, and what are we going to do about it?”

  Michael paused only a second before replying, “It’s you, Oliver. And we’re going to try to break the spell.”

  “Me!” Oliver exclaimed. “Nonsense! I’ve done no such thing.”

  The sneer came back to Oliver’s face. “He doesn’t believe you. Now what are you going to do?” Once again the sneer left his face as quickly as it came.

  “Oliver, it’s not your fault. You weren’t even aware of it when you would do her bidding.”

  As Michael was speaking, Oliver reached behind his back. When he brought his hand back into view, he was holding a razorsharp hunting knife. The wicked blade was fully eight inches long

  Michael stepped back when he saw the blade. The setting sun reflected brightly off the shiny, deadly surface.

  “Fight it! You’ve got to try to fight off the control that Acantha has over you, Oliver.”

  “What’s happening, Michael?” asked Oliver. There was a quiver in his voice brought on by fear, and the realization of what he was doing. Oliver looked down at his hand holding the weapon as though it was totally apart from him. It was like watching the actions of a totally separate person. Actions that were completely out of Oliver’s control.

  “What the hell’s happening, Michael?” wailed Oliver as he began stalking toward Michael.

  Michael did not waste time on words. Seeing Oliver’s advance he quickly enveloped himself in a hazy green light. It immediately coalesced into the vibrant bubble that he had used in the past.

  Oliver’s advance did not slow at the sight of Michael’s shield, however the knife in his hand began to glow with a light of its own. Soon the knife and the hand holding it were encased in a vibrant red light.

  Oliver stared at his hand that held the knife as it began to glow scarlet red. He looked up at Michael with pleading eyes. “Michael, help me! Don’t let me do this!”

  Suddenly, although his eyes pleaded not to do this thing, Oliver lunged at Michael with the knife. Michael backed away by reflex, even though protected by his shield. The knife in Oliver’s hand sang through the air in an arc toward Michael. The scarlet covering connected with the emerald shield, parting it like torn paper. Both men stopped in surprise as Michael’s magical shield continued to tear, edges flapping in the wind. Like a worn and discarded sheet, the fabric of the shield tore and was carried away by the early evening breeze.

  Just as Oliver was gathering himself for another attack, Michael leaped into the air, making his magic lift him higher and higher off the ground. He was soon floating fifty feet off the ground.

  Oliver stood below him, craning his neck to see Michael above him.

  “That was a terribly foolish thing to do, Michael,” came Acantha’s voice from Oliver. “This is precisely why Everett didn’t float above the ground when Croom was chasing you so many months ago. It seems you could still learn from the old man. All I have to do is place Oliver directly below you and float him up. If you try to descend, he’s got you; if you stay where you are, he’s got you. Even if you try to go higher, he’ll eventually catch up with you.”

  Michael watched in alarm as the scarlet light enveloping Oliver’s hand and knife grew to cover all of him. When he was completely covered with the malignant light, Oliver slowly began to rise from the ground, on a direct line with Michael.

  Oliver was calling out to Michael in panic, “Stop me, Michael! Don’t let this happen!” He continued floating up with the knife held over his head. Michael began moving higher as he watched Oliver.

  Looking for inner guidance, Michael quickly lapsed into a light trance. Searching through his subconscious for the new magic provided by the emerald, he found what he hoped would be the one possibility to save himself, and release Oliver from Acantha’s hold.

  Unlike the other times that he had left his body, this time he left blind. There was no sight to guide him, no senses to steer him along the correct path. Rather than his soul or spirit making this short journey, it was only his intelligence, his power.

  Without knowing how, Michael felt himself slip into Oliver being, felt the strangle-hold that Acantha held on him. Guided by the power of the emerald, he found that place inside Oliver that Acantha had fastened onto. He went to that spot and focused all of his power at the small tendril of evil magic that grasped Oliver’s will.

  With a vibration that Michael could almost feel, the hold on Oliver was broken. Michael was pulled out of his trance by Acantha’s wail when her hold was broken. He looked down and saw Oliver hurling toward the ground. With his own magic he stopped Oliver’s fall, and supported him while they both descended safely to the ground.

  It was some minutes before Oliver came back to his senses. He awoke to find himself propped against a large tree. Looking around, he saw the sun was ready to slip below the horizon, Michael was sitting just a few feet away.

  “I must have fallen asleep. Where are the others? Come to think of it, where the hell are we?”

  “You came up here to help me, remember?” answered Michael.

  Oliver stopped to think. “Yeah, I remember. But what did we do?”

  “It doesn’t matter. It’s done, that’s all that matters. Let’s get back to the others or it’ll be dark before we get there.”

  The others were still in camp when Michael and Oliver returned. Everett and Thomas were calmly sitting on the beach, talking in low tones. Sarah had fallen asleep. She was lying between the two men, with her head on one of the packs.

  Thomas jumped up when Michael and Oliver entered the camp. One instant there was no one in the camp but the three of them because of the shield Michael had created for them, and in the next instant, Michael and Oliver appeared, having entered the bubble.

  “Don’t do that!” he ordered. “You scared the hell out of me.”

  “Sorry,” was Michael’s only answer.

  “We had better wake Sarah now,” he continued. “I think the sooner we move from here the better.”

  Michael moved across the camp to Sarah to wake her himself. He knelt down beside her and watched
for a minute before waking her. She looked so innocent and vulnerable sleeping. In spite of her newly-acquired strength, she was still trusting in Michael and the others to keep her safe from harm.

  He rubbed her shoulder and upper arm gently until she woke. She looked up at him with sleepy but smiling eyes. It was too late for Michael to worry about the danger she was in because of him; but he nevertheless wished there had been a way to remove her from jeopardy.

  “Where have you been?” she asked as she came awake.

  “Just off doing magical stuff with Oliver. Boring stuff really. But now the time has come to make our final plans. So, if you can force that sleep out of your eyes, we’ll get down to business.”

  “I’m ready,” she said as she sat up.

  “I don’t think it’s safe to stay here,” said Michael once they were altogether. “Even cloaked as we are, I think she could send out those beasts that attacked us at the cabin, and eventually find us. We have to move from here, whether on to the keep or somewhere else doesn’t matter, just so long as we move.” He turned to Everett. “You said earlier you had a plan to get us in. Now is the time to tell us.”

  Everett was sitting cross-legged next to Michael; the others were sitting across from him. “Getting in should be easy, as long as we can get up to the hill it sits on unseen. When the first magicians took over the castle with the hopes of starting the enclave, the fear and hate held by non-magicians was at its strongest. Those early magicians were afraid they would be attacked by the others. Sure, they could have defended themselves easily with their magic, but they took vows of non-violence. So rather than possibly being in a position where they would have to fight, they built a bolt-hole.”

  “You mean like rabbits and other burrowing animals?” asked Thomas.

  “Exactly. There is a secret tunnel from the basement of the enclave that leads out through the side of the hill it sits on.”

  “Wait a minute,” interrupted Michael. “I’ve never heard anything about a tunnel.”

  “Well, of course not,” answered Everett. “If you had, it wouldn’t be a secret tunnel, would it?”

  Michael stopped to think about the possibilities of a secret tunnel and why he had not heard of it before. “Well, what’s the use of us having a tunnel at the enclave if no one knows it’s there?”

  “Only teachers were allowed to know of its existence. If we had been able to stay at the enclave, and you had continued your studies, eventually to become a teacher, that would have been one of the rites of passage, to be taught all of the secrets of the enclave.”

  “Whoa,” said Oliver as he leaned forward. “Who cares whether you knew about it before? All that matters is that it’s there, and that we can use it. Are you sure you can find the entrance on the hill, Everett? I assume it’s hidden.”

  “Yes, it’s hidden. But there will be no trouble finding it. We had to tend to the tunnel as part of our chores as teachers. I’ve been there before. I can find it.”

  “Well,” offered Sarah, “that takes care of that. If there is a tunnel that Acantha doesn’t know about that leads into her keep, and if we have to find a place to hide tonight…what are we waiting for?”

  They sat in silence for a short time. Unable to come up with any reasons to question Sarah’s logic, the decision was made to start immediately. The packs had not been unloaded, so they quickly secured them over their shoulders and gathered the weapons they had received from Esther.

  They were off on the last leg of their journey without stopping to rest, or taking a meal. Only Michael knew that he had survived a battle with Acantha through Oliver, and he realized that Acantha would try to find them now that they were so close.

  Rather than making straight to the old castle, they stole south, parallel to the ocean. If Acantha sent her creatures after them, she would send them toward the last spot where they had been before erecting the shield. They had moved up from the beach to an area covered with ice-plant, and short hardy brush, in the hopes of covering their tracks as they moved south.

  They were only a half-mile along when they heard the wild baying of the same type of beasts they had struggled with just days earlier. Even shielded from sight as they were, the sound of the unholy din moving down the hillside toward them caused their blood to run cold.

  The beasts were still too distant for Michael and the others to see, but by the sound, they were moving fast. “Come on,” called Michael as he broke into a run. “We’ve got to get as far from here as we can.”

  The others did not waste time with questions. They immediately began running with Michael. The beasts were coming fast down the hill, many times faster than a man could run. They were on a line slightly behind Michael and his friends. Michael had to pace himself to the slowest of the group, Everett, so he could not put on an extra burst of speed to insure that their paths did not converge.

  The beasts were easily in sight now. Teeth and razor claws could be seen flashing in the new moon. There were more than a dozen of Acantha’s horde racing from the top of the hill.

  Sarah felt the chill of fear race down her spine. She trusted in Michael and his power, but the sight of the death-seeking creatures threatened to freeze her heart.

  “Behind us,” she said as she gasped for breath. “They’re going to go behind us. They don’t see us.”

  “They can’t see us,” answered Everett, also struggling for breath, “but they can smell where we’ve been.”

  Looking behind them, Sarah could see the beasts slowing as they put their noses to the ground in hopes of catching the scent of their prey.

  Hiding the scent was Michael’s only hope of keeping their trail from being found. Without slowing he released a part of his consciousness to mislead the pursuers. Behind them, the sandy soil began an upheaval. Soon sand, dirt, weeds, and bushes were spewing from the ground, ten feet into the air.

  Small rocks and dirt pelted the beasts as they charged into the upheaval. Confused and disoriented, the angry creatures began attacking each other. The only foes that were available for venting their frustration and hatred were their own kind.

  While behind them the beasts were ripping and tearing at each other, Michael and his friends continued their struggled flight.

  “No more,” said Everett nearly bent double with exhaustion. “I can’t run anymore. Go on without me.”

  The others all stopped at the same time. Looking back at Everett, they saw that it was true that he could run no further. He was flushed, perspiration coursed in rivulets, making tracks through his dirty face. He had given his all during the journey; but he was too old, and had given too much to have any strength left for a last minute race to safety.

  “We’re not going on without you, Everett,” answered Michael. “Use your mind, not your body. Levitate about a foot off the ground.”

  “What good is that going to do me? I can float, but I can’t fly.”

  “Maybe you can’t fly, but we can pull you. Now, hurry, levitate.”

  Everett did as Michael instructed. When he was a foot off the ground, Michael took hold of one arm, and Thomas took the other. Turning inland now and heading straight for the dark silhouette of the castle in the distance, Michael and Thomas easily pulled the floating Everett along with them. He looked like a cloth-covered balloon in tow by children as they raced up the hill to Acantha’s keep.

  Following Everett’s direction, they were at the foot of the hill, to the north, when Everett lowered himself to the ground. “It’s right around here. There is a rock outcropping with trees growing all.... There, over there!” he said as he pointed to a tree-hidden rock outcropping. “The entrance to the tunnel is hidden behind those rocks.”

  “Then let’s go,” said Oliver as he started out ahead of the others.

  He was the first to reach the tumble of rocks, and was climbing over and behind them when the others arrived. “I don’t see any damn tunnel,” he said. “If there was a tunnel, I would have seen it.”

  Everett mov
ed ahead of the others to where Oliver was standing. “If you got any closer to it, you would fall in. Stand aside.” He made a few intricate passes with his hands, ending with a pushing motion with his right hand, and the opening revealed itself.

  Oliver stood not five feet from where the opening revealed itself.

  “You’d think you have been around magicians long enough to have expected this,” said Everett as he disappeared into the black mouth of the tunnel.

  Although first to arrive, Oliver was the last to enter the yawning hole in the hillside.

  CHAPTER 24

  Barely a few feet inside the tunnel, it became pitch black. Although the luminous moon and stars made it easy to see outside, it was not sufficient to push aside the darkness once inside the earth. Michael and Everett provided the necessary light through their magic. Everett carried two small glowing orbs, one in each hand; Michael seemed to radiate with a light of his own, with no apparent effort on his part.

  “What about the entrance to the tunnel?” asked Sarah as they began walking.

  “That’s no problem, dear,” replied Everett. “The spell took effect again once we were all inside. If Acantha and her creatures did not know about this place before, they will not find it now.”

  As they moved further into the depths of the hillside, Sarah felt the massive weight of the earth above them. The walls were not rough-hewn like that of a natural cave, but rather smooth and rounded, about seven feet in height and width. The floor was nearly flat, which made for easy walking.

  The cool smoothness of the dark stone, the small diameter of the tunnel, and the blackness ahead of and behind them only intensified Sarah’s feeling of fragility. Not wanting to add to the oppressive feeling by walking side by side, with the walls crowding in on them, they spread into a loose line. Everett took the lead, with the others following behind with mouths open in awe.

  “We have steps coming up here,” remarked Everett. “We go up about one-hundred steps, then the floor levels out for a ways. There will be many more steps later.”

  “Why aren’t there any torches along the walls?” asked Thomas. “It would sure make it easier.”