Victim of Fate

by Jason Halstead

"Indeed you are, but we're a long time away for that, my pet." Therion gave her a wry smile to show he had a sinister twist to his words. He reached out to a shelf and pulled off a glass jar with some dark reddish substance in it. "Now then, what powder is this?"

  "Blood powder from a vampire," Rosalyn said after a moment of thought. "It can be used in a spell to siphon the life from someone, poison them if ingested, or when worked into a potion, restore vitality to the imbiber."

  Therion nodded. He replaced it and grabbed a faint yellow powder. "And this?"

  "The dried essence of dandelions."

  "And its uses?"

  Rosalyn hesitated as she stared at it. "Dry the target of a spell out?"

  He nodded. "You learn quickly; that pleases me. Tell me, Rosalyn, why do you study so hard?"

  "I want to please you, Master," she answered. "I want to learn to use magic and I want to be strong."

  Therion studied her carefully. There was more to it, more she wasn't telling him. He could see it in the way she averted her eyes from his. She was afraid she'd give her secrets away if she looked at him. "You want to hurt them, don't you?"

  Rosalyn's lips parted in an almost silent gasp.

  "You want to track the people down that couldn't help you and you want to show them what it's like. Tell me!"

  Rosalyn nodded. "Yes, Master!" she breathed. Her shoulders slumped and she stared at the ground. "I want them to pay and I never want to be weak again."

  "I will show you, Rosalyn. I will teach you the way and together we will be unstoppable!"

  She nodded and risked a glance that nearly rose to his face before it fell back to his desk. "Master, when will you teach me magic? I hear you chant and it makes sense; I can almost feel it. I've studied your components—learning about them, knowing them—but I cannot do anything with them."

  "Nearly any fool can use magic once they've been introduced to it."

  "Introduced?" Rosalyn paused before adding, "Master."

  "Your body must be made ready to handle the energies. It must be opened to them so you can sense the eldritch flows and shape them with your words and your movements. The components we use will strengthen the spells and act as both catalysts and fuel, much like a fire burns wood to exist. The magic itself is all around us and in other places. We use our bodies to turn it into something tangible, something real. For this, you must be purified and conditioned."

  Therion stared at her as she twitched while he spoke. "Yes, it will hurt. You will burn on the inside, but it will purge you of weakness and of the foolish notions of your past. You will be born again and your growing power will be a thing of deadly beauty, easily a match for your comeliness."

  "Then I will be powerful, like you?"

  Therion chuckled. "I have studied the arcane far longer than you can imagine, my pet. Power is earned through use, study, and practice. It takes time. I suspect you can be very powerful one day, but each use of magic will tire your body out. You must grow accustomed to it and learn how to wield it. One day, perhaps, you will join the rank of arch-mages, but that day is many years distant."

  Rosalyn nodded. "I live to serve you, Master. When you think I am ready, I will be."

  "You'll be ready soon, my pet. Sooner than I expected, I think."

  * * * *

  "I'd have thought the farmer would be out fixing things," Tristam opined as they road up to James's farm.

  "I still don't understand why we're stopping here first," Kar snipped. "It's another delay. Do you hope to find the boy dead?"

  "This is the path we took! If he found a way out, he'd come back here first," Tristam argued. "Now look and tell me why I don't feel right about this place."

  Kar took his pipe out and filled it, and then clamped it between his teeth. A mote of magic from his thumb lit the end of it, allowing him to puff on it while he studied the farmhouse they rode towards. Kar shrugged. "Women's intuition?"

  Tristam scowled at him and spurred his horse forward to ride ahead. Kar snickered and took a few more puffs before he upended the pipe to dump the glowing root from it. Satisfied he'd put it out, he tucked the pipe back in his pocket and watched the farm for any sign of whatever had Tristam's hair standing on end.

  Tristam rode into the yard and cursed loudly enough to draw the attention of the others. Kar frowned and put his heels to his horse, driving it forward. By the time he'd reached the place, Tristam had dismounted and drawn his blade. He rushed into the house ahead of them. Kar rounded the corner of the farmhouse and saw the reason for the warrior's urgency: the front door was broken apart, as was a window a few feet away.

  Namitus and Karthor rushed ahead of him, entering behind Tristam. Kar dismounted more carefully, fearful of turning an ankle in his rush. He wasn't as young as the others and the thought of asking his son to soothe his hurts was a blow his pride would be hard pressed to handle. A cry of distress from the house urged him on in spite of his misgivings.

  Kar entered the house and found the interior was devastated. Scratches in the walls and floors were the first sign of distress. Pots and jars were scattered about the kitchen and one of the benches at the table was broken in half. Farther in, the chaos was as bad or worse. Chairs were broken and the fireplace mantel had a jagged crack running through it. Kar went up the stairs, noting with dismay a blood trail that preceded him up the steps.

  The trail ended at the top of the stairs. Kar stared at the mangled remains of a body and had to admit after a moment that he had no idea which member of the farmer's family it was. Karthor, Namitus, and Tristam emerged from the upstairs rooms, shaking their heads.

  "There's another body in the far room. I think it's Willamina," Karthor said. "It looks like she's wearing a dress."

  Kar turned back to the first corpse. "Then that's James. What happened here?"

  "The creatures we saw in the forest came here," Tristam said.

  "Did they follow us?" Namitus asked. "We didn't stop here!"

  "Are they heading to Fairhaven next?" Karthor wondered aloud.

  "By the saints," Kar muttered. "Don't you think we'd have seen them on our way here if they did?"

  The others fell silent and looked at one another. Karthor gasped after a moment. "The boy! Kevard, where is he?"

  Tristam cursed and pushed through them to lead the troop back down the stairs. They turned the house upside down, even returning upstairs when they could find no sign of him. Tristam joined Kar and his son when they heard Namitus call for them from the same room Willamina had died in. "I think I know where he is!"

  They filed in and saw him staring out an open window. "It's a long ways down," Tristam pointed out when he stepped next to the window and looked through the opening.

  Namitus leaned out and looked straight down. "A climber could make it. Window ledges and a roof line, then a short leap to the ground."

  "So where is he? Run to ground somewhere?"

  "The barn. He'd be a fool to try to outrun them," Namitus reasoned.

  "The barn doesn't strike me as a safe place either, if they could break into here," Kar pointed out.

  "Then let's go and find another body," Tristam said as he turned and headed back towards the stairs.

  Namitus fell in behind Tristam and muttered, "I hope they didn't eat part of him, too."

  They left the house behind and walked to the open doors of the barn. Tristam stopped abruptly in the doorway, causing Namitus to walk into him. Namitus grunted and stumbled back, and then shouted in surprise when he saw Tristam jerked out of the doorway and into the barn.

  Karthor and Namitus broke free of their shock and rushed forward with weapons in hand. Kar hurried after, bringing both offensive and defensive spells to mind. When he stepped into the doorway, he saw Tristam struggling to protect his head from the creature that was trying to maul him. Karthor shouted and ran at them, swinging his mace and cracking it against the shoulder of the six-legged beast. Namitus stopped and faced two other predators that stood in the middle of the barn an
d snarled at him. A fourth monster paced back and forth on top of a pile of baled hay.

  "What are these things?" Namitus cried out.

  "What indeed," Kar wondered. They possessed six legs, the rear four looking like they belonged to a wolf or a dog. The front two legs had the clawed feet of a very large cat. Their fur was shades of light and dark gray, spotted with darker blotches of black. The faces of the beasts were feline and filled with teeth that looked sharp enough to cut steel.

  The creature leapt away from Tristam and hissed at Karthor. He turned to face it in time to receive it crashing into his chest. Karthor stumbled back and then shoved his hands up to keep the creature's face away from his. Tristam rolled and grabbed his sword, and then lunged at it and buried his blade in the creature's side. It howled and tried to leap away, but only succeeded in stumbling away and then dropping onto its side as it panted away the last of its life.

  Tristam rose up and turned to Namitus, who was backing up slowly while shifting to keep his scimitar between himself and the two beasts that pressed him. Kar moved over and looked for an opportunity to use his magic, but they kept moving and interposing Namitus between themselves and the wizard.

  "Do something," Kar snapped.

  Namitus glanced at him and then realized his mistake. He dropped to one knee and whipped his scimitar around defensively. It bit into the leaping creature and cut cleanly through the muscles of its leading shoulder. It landed and stumbled, dropping briefly to the ground before picking itself up. The feline head stared up at Karthor as the priest planted his feet and smashed his mace into the skull of the beast. It dropped to the ground without so much as a twitch or a spasm.

  Tristam yelled and tried to hack into the other creature that harassed Namitus. It leapt to the side, twisting in midair to face him. Namitus threw himself forward into a roll and came out of the gymnastic move with his sword cutting into its hindquarters and tearing open its side enough to cause the creature's guts to bulge out. It spun again to face him, even lashing out with a feline paw and leaving gouges in his boiled leather jerkin. Namitus fell back, his breath exploding out of his mouth from the force of the strike. Tristam used the rogue's distraction to hack into the back of the beast's neck and cut deep enough to sever its spine. It fell just as surely as the one Karthor had brained.

  "Do something useful," Tristam panted to Kar.

  Kar held up three bronze spikes and chanted a spell before he took one in his right hand and hurled it through the air. As soon as it left his hand, it turned into a golden mote and streaked forward, leaving a trail of golden motes in the air. The magical dart struck the creature in the chest and drove it back. The beast only had time to open its mouth and begin a snarl when the second struck it lower on its chest. The third and final magical dart struck it in the throat, ending its snarl and making it sit on its haunches. It pawed at its throat, digging furrows with its claws until it fell forward and then rolled off the pile of hay to crash onto the floor ahead of them.

  "How's that?" Kar asked.

  "Took you long enough," Tristam retorted.

  "Kevard! Are you okay?" Karthor called out while staring up at the rafters of the barn.

  As one, they looked up and saw the boy peering out from behind the thick wooden beams. The rope he'd climbed was pulled up and lying on the rafter near him. "I think so," he answered carefully. "Did Alto send you back to help?"

  Kar could feel the others looking at one another without needing to look at them. If ever they needed Alto, now was the time. They young warrior had a sensitivity and a softness to him that would have eased the news. Kar jerked, his thinking derailed by Kevard's question. "Alto? Have you seen him?"

  "He left yesterday morning on that unicorn of his, said he was following you to that Kelgryn city," he responded. Kevard kicked the rope off the rafter and waited for it to stop swinging before he reached down to grab it and prepared to lower himself to the ground. "I take it you haven't seen him. Did my folks send you out here then? Are they okay? They told me to hide in the barn while they kept them things busy."

  "Come on down, son," Tristam said.

  Kevard shimmied down the rope and brushed his hands against his pants while he looked up at them. His eyes went from one to the next before he said, "Oh." He blinked his eyes and turned away, and then hung his head while his shoulders started to tremble.

  Kar turned to see Tristam looking at him. Kar shrugged. Alto they'd taken on, but this boy was far too young. He didn't have the size or talent that Alto had, either. "Come with us," Kar suggested. "We'll see to it you're safe in Fairhaven."

  Tristam nodded his approval. "Fairhaven it is. Then we head for Holgasford. Seems our young friend is full of surprises. A unicorn?"

  Kar shrugged. He lightly kicked one of the dead six-legged beasts and said, "After beasts like these, why should anything surprise you?"

  Chapter 13

  Alto ran outside the hall and pulled up short when he saw Winter pacing back and forth. The unicorn saw the young warrior and let loose a loud whinny. He trotted over and pawed the ground and then turned broadside to Alto.

  "Can you take me to her?" Alto asked.

  Winter snorted and stomped.

  "Wait for the jarl to gather his warriors and we’ll lead them," Alto said. To add weight to his argument, Teorfyr and several of his warriors filed out of the hall, fixing their armor and weapons. Alto still wore his chain shirt and bore his blade at his side; he hadn’t had a chance to find a place to stay so he could take them off.

  Winter stomped again.

  "To the gate, let’s go," Alto said while walking around Winter and heading towards the ramp from the jarl’s hall and heading towards the gate of Holgasford. Winter stomped the ground behind him, and then walked up next to him and bumped him as he moved ahead of him on the road.

  Alto scowled at his former equine friend. He met up with the impatient animal at the gate. Winter turned to him again and stared hard at him for a moment before turning away. Alto climbed onto his back and settled in, and then turned to face the jarl. Winter reared up enough to force his rider to throw himself against the unicorn’s neck and hold on tightly. The horned steed turned and leapt towards the gate. It streaked through in a flash of white, sending the guards stumbling away in surprise. Alto found all he could do was hold on for the first few terrifying moments.

  Winter’s gait evened out, allowing Alto to sit up enough and see the ground rushing past them at a frightful rate. "Was that what saving me was about? Just using me to get you to meet someone you really wanted to be with?"

  Winter’s ears flicked but otherwise he showed no sign of having heard.

  "I know you can hear me!" Alto challenged the racing unicorn. "And I don’t care much for being tricked! I thought we were friends. I thank you for saving me, but I returned that favor. You were free of the forest; why not find her on your own? You seemed to know Trina as soon as you saw her."

  Winter’s ears laid back on his head and he dipped his head forward to help him put on a fresh burst of speed.

  Alto scowled and considered slapping or kicking the animal. He stayed his hand, and foot. "Very well. Take me to her; she’s still my friend."

  Winter snorted and pulled up short. He slowed quickly and then turned without warning, sending Alto flying off his back. The unicorn turned back and lowered its horn at Alto while dragging a hoof across the ground.

  Alto climbed to his feet without noticing the ache in his leg and side from the fall. Red tinged his vision and he reached for his sword without thinking. He’d drawn it halfway before he noticed the unicorn’s sharp horn pointed at him. Alto slammed his blade back home and took a breath, and then glanced behind Winter and saw how distant Holgasford already was. He could see riders as well, but they’d barely left the gates of the city.

  Winter stomped his hoof and whinnied. Alto stared down and saw a similar symbol the one the unicorn kept drawing, three joined circles inside a fourth. "What’s this? Your answer for ev
erything? Is this some ancient mystical rune only an equally ancient wizard would understand? Or is it your way of saying you’ve got worms?"

  The unicorn’s hoof thudded into the ground hard, disturbing the pattern traced on the ground. Winter lowered his head and, before Alto’s eyes, made a pale bluish white light emanate from his horn. Alto gasped, stunned by the display of magic. Winter lunged forward, touching his horn to Alto’s forehead and then backing away.

  Alto grunted and fell back to one knee. The tap had been light in spite of Winter’s speed and size, but the impact of the magic rocked him as surely as a blow from a blacksmith’s hammer. Images, thoughts, and emotions flooded through him but they were gone in an instant. He grasped at them as though trying to capture the fleeting fragments from a dream upon waking.

  The young man stood up and shook his head. He stared at Winter with newfound respect, if not admiration. "Magic?"

  Winter chuffed and nodded his head. He turned his side to Alto, offering the warrior a ride again.

  One image remained for Alto while the others faded. It was Patrina, staring at Winter as she first emerged from the hall behind Alto. She looked beautiful and perfect. He supposed she always looked that way, but there was something about the picture in his head that was different. She looked cleaner, perhaps, or more pure. "I don’t know what you just did to me, but I see Patrina. Is that how you see her?"

  Winter nodded.

  "She’s beautiful," Alto admitted.

  Winter nodded again.

  Alto climbed onto the unicorn. The aches in his side and leg had disappeared. He shrugged it off and said, "All right, let’s go get her. You probably won’t wait for the jarl, will you?"

  Winter snorted and stomped, giving Alto his suspected answer. The unicorn lowered his head and took off at a gallop.

  * * * *

  "We’ve got to stop these midnight rides," Alto complained as they broke through the clouds on the eastern horizon. Winter slowed and glanced to the right, and then lowered his head and put on more speed.