Next, Hal moved on to practicing his Flame Shield defensive spell. He went slowly, listening carefully to Cadrian’s advice. This was the spell he would need to stand any chance up against the dragon, and it was tricky both to time and execute.
He found that while the spark ridges on his sword were convenient for performing Flame Strike, they were less helpful when it came to the shield spell. Hal had trouble focusing his will to place the Flame Shield in a position appropriate to defend himself, and suffered a few burns to his hands and forearms as he failed it several times in quick succession.
“Try it with your pistol,” said Cadrian. “There is no need for all of your spells to come from your sword if you have something else capable of being the catalyst.”
With his pistol, Hal ran into the same issue he’d had originally. The weapon was reliable when it came to producing a spark from the strike of its hammer, but Hal was less consistent when it came to expanding the spark into a proper spell.
“Keep working on it.” Cadrian gave him a knowing, slightly pitying smile, and they moved on.
Flame Shot, Hal’s “thesis spell”, as Cadrian called it, was much more reliable. It reminded him so much of firing an actual lead ball out of his pistol that he almost forgot that there was an element of magic to it. Using a rock as a target, Hal managed to strike the same spot with more accuracy than he ever would have managed with black powder, and he couldn’t help but grin as he considered the spell’s potential.
Cadrian was as fascinated by it, if not more so, than he was. She said little as she watched him practicing it, though Hal could tell from her expression that she was deep in thought.
“Can you control the size of your Flame Shot?” she asked. “Expand it outward, possibly to strike multiple targets at once?”
“I’m… not sure?” Hal licked his lips and cocked his pistol. He aimed it up into the air, fearing that targeting the rock might lead him to starting an accidental fire. He took a deep breath, reached for his emotions, and pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened. Hal glanced at the pistol in confusion, and then, feeling a little stupid, checked his gemstone. The red glow had faded from it, and it had returned to its empty, translucent state.
Cadrian frowned at it, and then looked up at the sun. They’d spent most of the day in the clearing, and the afternoon was already well on its way into evening.
“We’ll start there next time,” she said. “But for now, we should really be getting back. Laurel will need your help for the preparations for tomorrow, and I must return to Lorne to check in with Meridon.”
Hal furrowed his brow.
“What’s tomorrow?” he asked.
“The Summer Equinox Festival,” said Cadrian. “I would have expected Laurel to have told you about this.”
Laurel isn’t really telling me much of anything, right now.
“Is it held in Lorne?” asked Hal.
“It’s held in cities all across Krestia’s Cradle, including Lorne,” said Cadrian. “As one of the main providers of the town’s fruit and wine, Laurel will be expected there. Meridon will pay well for her produce, of course.”
“Well…” said Hal. “That should be interesting.”
He couldn’t help but wonder what he’d do about Zoria, given that the festival would involve Laurel leaving the homestead. He’d probably be going with her, but could they leave the elf behind and trust that she wouldn’t make trouble?
Hal followed Cadrian back down the path, feeling the difference having the sword hanging from his belt made.
“I’m heading straight back to Lorne,” said Cadrian, as they approached the homestead. “It might be a few days before your next training session.”
Hal raised an eyebrow.
“You aren’t going to be around for the festival?” he asked.
“No.” Cadrian gave no further explanation, and Hal didn’t expect one. She was a distant woman, or at least, she was distant toward him and the few others he’d seen her interact with.. Hal wondered if she’d once had a family and friends. Perhaps there was something in her past as traumatic, as there was in his own, hanging over her and keeping her mindful of letting anyone get too close.
Cadrian said a quick goodbye to Laurel, who was busy loading bags of desert apples and root vegetables into the back of her wagon. Once she’d left, Hal headed inside, expecting to find Zoria somewhere in the homestead. It was empty, and there was no sign of her outside, either.
“Do you know where Zoria went?” Hal asked.
The look Laurel gave him told him that she still hadn’t forgiven him for the previous night’s argument. She wore a tight red tunic with black leggings, and her hair was loose and slightly tangled across her shoulders from her work.
“I have no idea,” said Laurel. “And I don’t care to know, either.”
Hal sighed.
“Fair enough,” he mumbled. “Do you, uh, need any help loading the wagon?”
“Not from you,” said Laurel.
Taking a page out of Cadrian’s book, Hal managed to keep silent. There was nothing to be gained by getting dragged into an argument with Laurel. Instead, Hal headed back into the homestead and took a seat at the table.
Laurel came inside a few minutes later and immediately began cooking dinner. The silence in the room seemed to flutter back and forth between awkward and companionable. Hal waited until Laurel had finished putting all of the vegetables into the stew, and had nothing left in her hands to distract her, before making another attempt at conversation.
“How many times have you been to the festival before?” he asked. “Here in Lorne, I mean.”
Laurel turned and looked at him. Her expression wasn’t angry as much as tired. Her blonde hair looked like it could use a good combing, and there were still a few traces of dirt on her hands.
“Only once,” said Laurel.
Hal smiled.
“How was it?” he asked.
He could see Laurel’s resolve to stay mad at him melting. It made him feel strange, almost like he was reliving a previous chapter of his life. Hal’s thoughts suddenly jumped to Lilith, and he had to look away.
“It was fun,” said Laurel. “Honestly, it was. My brother Willum was around for it. I was hoping he’d return in time for this one…”
“Sorry,” said Hal. And he truly meant it. He understood her desire as well as anyone could.
“I’ve been trying to talk less about him,” said Laurel. “It seems like bad luck to talk about a… traveling person, you know? He’ll come back. I shouldn’t let myself talk about him like he’s gone forever.”
“Makes sense,” said Hal.
“I thought it was him,” said Laurel. “For a second. When you and Zoria came back. I thought it was Willum and, this will sound ridiculous, that he’d married and brought home a wife! Don’t laugh, it made sense in my head at the time. To explain why he’d been gone so long.”
Hal nodded and kept a smile on his face, but on the inside, his emotions were a storm. Laurel’s pain over her brother’s absence was resonating with him, and not in a way that lent itself to Hal keeping his composure.
“It was only because of him that I enjoyed the festival at all,” said Laurel. “I was still spiteful over the fact that we were sent away from court in Meldence. Willum was like a bee, buzzing around me, trying to lead me to flowers and pollen.”
She laughed.
“He sounds like a good brother,” said Hal. The words felt scratchy on his throat.
“There’s this game that I got tricked into playing,” said Laurel. “It’s called Kiss the Maiden, and I was, well, I’m sure you can guess. It’s a silly game with blindfolds and dizzy people walking around, all trying to, well, exactly what you’d expect.”
“Must have been fun,” said Hal.
Laurel grinned at him.
“One of the more gruff men in Lorne, one that’s always keen on pestering me, came really close. Like, within a step or two of kissing me. Of co
urse, he had a blindfold on, so before he could go any further, Willum slid in between us and, well, he saved me!”
“He saved you?”
“He took the kiss for me,” said Laurel. “That’s just the kind of brother he is.”
The kind of brother he is. Not the kind of brother he was.
“My sister Lilith…” Hal only made it to her name before a painful lump formed in his throat. He wanted to tell Laurel his own holiday story, of the time he and Lilith had gone to the Provincial Fair, and he’d spent most of the day giving her a shoulder ride around the grounds.
“My sister Lilith,” he began again. The same thing happened. Hal closed his eyes, but to his shame, not quickly enough. A single hot, wet tear slid down his cheek.
“Oh, Hal!” said Laurel. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t think about how talking about family might affect you…”
Laurel pulled a handkerchief out of her tunic and reached across the table, dabbing at his cheek rather than just handing it to him. Hal grabbed her hand while it was there and opened his eyes, no longer caring about the tears.
“This is why, Laurel,” he said. “This is why I have to do it. Getting revenge, it’s all for her. I need you to understand…”
“Hal…” Laurel shook her head. “You don’t have to.”
“I do.” Hal swallowed and looked away from her. “I’m not that strong, Laurel. If I was stronger, in the way a man should be, I’d mourn and then just… find a way to go on with my life.”
“You can do that,” said Laurel. “All you have to do is make the choice.”
Hal laughed, cutting it short before it turned fully into the sob that was bubbling beneath the surface.
“There is no choice,” said Hal. “And I’m not stupid. It won’t end just because the monster is dead. It’s probably the first of a hundred arbitrary things I’ll force myself to do, or suffer, in the name of my dead family and friends.
Lilith. Mauve. Roth. My father.
Laurel didn’t say anything. When Hal composed himself enough to look at her again, he was shocked to see that she was also crying. He’d kept her hand in his after she’d reached out to dab his tears, and at some point, she’d shifted her fingers to intertwine with his.
“I’m here for you, Hal,” she whispered. “I don’t want to see you make bad decisions. I really don’t want to see you get yourself killed. But I do understand, and I’ll be here for you. Right here.”
She had such beautiful eyes, pools of crystalline blue deeper than the ocean and more expressive than the starry sky. Hal squeezed her hand.
“Thank you,” he said.
CHAPTER 35
The rest of dinner was a more light hearted affair. Laurel talked more about the festival and what it entailed. Hal was amused at how grand she made it sound, given how tiny and remote the town actually was.
“And since it runs late, we’ll be staying the night,” said Laurel. “You don’t mind sharing a room at the inn again, do you?”
Hal was about to tell her that no, of course he didn’t, when he remembered something.
“I don’t mind,” he said. “But I was assuming that we’d have Zoria with us. Come to think of it, where is she? It’s hours past sunset.”
Laurel frowned.
“I don’t like the idea of her being loose in Fool’s Valley on her own,” she said.
“Are you worried about her?” asked Hal.
“I’m worried about my gardens and fruit trees,” said Laurel. “And Toothy.”
Hal nodded, sharing in her concerns.
“I’ll go have a look around outside,” he said. “Feels almost like I’m about to go calling for a lost hound.”
Laurel giggled at that. Hal left the homestead and did a slow lap around the clearing, calling Zoria’s name every couple of steps. A noise came from up the slope as he passed by the path he and Cadrian usually took to their training spot.
“Zoria?” he called.
A second noise came, and it sounded like a muffled shout. A prickle of unease ran down the back of Hal’s neck. He charged forward into the dark, hurrying up the slope and hoping he wasn’t too late.
He was in the middle of taking long, loping steps up the trail when something seized his ankle, and with a sudden, unexpected jerk, flipped him upside down into the air. Hal hung from a tree branch snare, upside down and completely dumbfounded. Zoria, only recognizable by her silhouette, stepped out from a nearby hiding spot.
“Zoria!” shouted Hal. “What is this-”
She was a step ahead of him, moving in close and slapping a hand over Hal’s mouth before he could say anything more. When she pulled her hand back, his mouth was still covered. Hal pushed his tongue out and tasted bark against his lips.
“Birchbark, with glenwood sap to seal it to your mouth,” said Zoria. Hal tried to reach his hands around to pull it through, but she’d already grabbed them and was hurrying to tie them behind his back, where he wouldn’t be able to reach them around.
“I’m surprised you and your teacher didn’t notice the snare on your way back down,” said Zoria. “I spent hours on it today. It was hanging in plain sight, if either of you had bothered to open your eyes. I finished rigging it as soon as it got dark, and then all I had to do was wait for you to come looking.”
Hal tried to speak, but he could do little more than make muffled sounds against the bark.
What would it change if I could yell? If Laurel came looking for me, she’d just end up sharing my fate.
“I’m no slave, Halrin,” said Zoria. “Especially not to a pathetic surfacer. I am an Honored Valkyrie in service to the Empress of the Upper Realm.”
She moved in closer to him, crouching down so her face was level with his. She appeared upside down from Hal’s perspective, and a shaft of starlight illuminated her expression. She was smiling, and her eyes were filled with something dangerous and hungry.
“I have a certain amount of respect for you,” said Zoria. “Truly, I do. You’re brave, stronger than a surfacer should be, and determined. I won’t kill you once you’ve taken the bracers off me, Halrin. I will let you serve me, as you were to serve me originally. Perhaps you will even grow to love me, one day, and see the wisdom in the arrangement.”
Zoria disappeared from his view, and a few seconds later, Hal felt something cold and metallic press against his fingers. She wanted him to take the command bracers off her, so she could put them on him. Hal smiled, deciding in that moment that he would hold out for as long as he possibly could.
“Halrin,” said Zoria. “Bitch’s blood, you’re wasting both our time. Take them off me this instant and I’ll be a much kinder master in the days to come. I’m still planning on killing Aangavar. If you take the bracers off soon, maybe I’ll let you strike the final blow?”
Hal searched his mind desperately for an idea that might let him escape. His gemstone was empty of essence, and doubly useless to him without a way to make a spark. But he did still have a weapon. His short sword hung at a strange angle, upside down as he was, but it was just barely within his reach. Zoria mustn’t have seen it in the dark, and wouldn’t have expected him to have it, since Cadrian had only given it to him earlier that day.
He waited until Zoria moved back into his field of view before considering his next move. She turned away from him, reaching for something just out of sight. Hal pulled at the hilt of his sword with desperate finger tips, finally managing to get a hold of it.
The angle was all wrong. With Hal upside down and the sword’s scabbard hanging along his abdomen, he couldn’t pull it out with the usual motion. The bindings that held his wrists together only made it worse.
“What are you doing?” shouted Zoria.
Hal acted on instinct. He sat up, his muscles straining to take advantage of the snare’s tension to shift himself into a better position. The angle of the scabbard shifted. He pulled hard, and was a little surprised when he felt the blade slide free.
“No!” Zoria rushed fo
rward to stop him. Hal’s first swing was at her, holding her at bay. He let the momentum of the strike continue in an upward arc, slicing through the snare holding his ankle.
He fell in a crumpled heap, feeling lucky that he hadn’t accidentally impaled himself on his own blade. Zoria let out a wordless scream and summoned her runic spear, light flashing as the ethereal violet weapon appeared in her hand and briefly illuminating her furious, slightly fearful expression.
Hal wasted no time slicing loose the bindings around his wrists. He struggled to pull the bark off his mouth, taking a portion of his stubble off with it.
Zoria rushed forward, stabbing at Hal’s chest with her spear. He dodged to the side and countered with an overhead slash. She caught it on the shaft of her weapon, and Hal felt an intense vibration run up his hand and forearm, sharp enough to numb his palm.
Zoria kept screaming like a lunatic, only pausing to take a breath when she had to. Hal realized that as long as she could make her voice louder than his, he wouldn’t be able to simply command her to stop.
She attacked him with a series of confusing strikes, feinting and reversing her movements only to attempt a quick jab with the tip of the spear, aimed at Hal’s face. He dodged it and countered with a slash to Zoria’s legs. She blocked it, but her spear flickered for a moment as she caught the blow.
The difference in their level of ability was stark. Hal had barely touched a sword before his training with Cadrian began a few days earlier, while Zoria seemed to wield her weapon like an extension of her body.
He wasn’t completely without advantages. Zoria’s shouting sapped at her strength, preventing her from taking more than small gasps of air. Her weapon also gave off a faint violet glow that made it easy for Hal’s eyes to track. And Hal was fast, his natural dexterity and maneuverable weapon letting him move amidst the thick trees and underbrush in ways that Zoria couldn’t match.
There was a pause in Zoria’s frantic screaming as she took a deep breath. Hal didn’t have time to take advantage of the moment, as she immediately threw herself at him, sweeping her spear down into what should have been a deathblow.
Heartgem Homestead (Sexcraft Chronicles Book 1) Page 19
