Spotting a group of robed figures hurrying down the street, Dariana ducks into a nearby building and apologizes to the startled family. Bounding up the stairs, she leaves through a window and jumps across the street to clamber up to the rooftops. Sensing that one of the griffin riders high above is watching her, Dariana realizes that her agile maneuvers would be impossible for a stocky dwarf. Slipping behind a chimney, she transforms into a halfling with shining boots and continues on her way. The guard forgets about her when a peryton tackles his mount and he is forced to fight for his life. Glancing over her shoulder, the telepath watches the man fall from his griffin and land on a stall full of pottery.
“Surprised he lived through that,” she whispers with an amused chuckle. Skidding to a stop, she tries to plan the quickest path to her destination. “Maybe I should have kept Yola around to act as a distraction. Not like anybody can kill her. This leg of the trip requires finesse, but I don’t have time for that.”
Dariana drops to an alley and charges into the street, joining the others who are trying to find cover from the battle that is mostly in the sky. Perytons swoop down to attack, their antlers and hooves skittering on the cobblestones whenever they miss. Being more concerned about the griffins, the confused predators are sloppy in their attempts to nab a meal and repeatedly miss whoever they are aiming for. Several of them crash into the sides of buildings, which helps the chaos spread and covers Dariana’s tracks. By the time she reaches the docks, the area is filled with citizens who are demanding that ships take them out to sea where they can watch the battle from a safer position. It does not help the situation that the telepath is putting the images of getting gored into the minds of a few people to increase their fervor.
Pushing through the terrified citizens and baffled sailors, Dariana makes her way to the southern mountain, only two griffins circling the top. The wooden doors are wide open to give the riders quick access to any mounts that are being kept on standby and safely away from the perytons. With most of the men and women in the air, there are very few people inside and only a handful of them are riders. The rest are teenagers who are there to tend to the griffins and help keep the place clean, all of them waiting until the day they can enlist as a guard. Knowing there is no reason to keep an eye on the openings to the various cliffs around the outer mountain, the soldiers and workers are only watching the front door.
“Just keep looking in the wrong direction,” Dariana whispers as she leaps onto the side of the mountain.
She climbs to the nearest cave and slips far enough inside that she can hide in the narrow shadows. Searching for an easy target, Dariana notices a young griffin hiding among the crisscrossing rafters. Stepping back outside, she gracefully makes her way to an opening that is above the pruning animal. Fearing that she has been in the open for too long, the telepath does her best to hide her presence, but she reserves most of her strength for the next step in her plan. The best Dariana can do is react to any thoughts that mention seeing her, which she is thankful are very rare. Battling her impatience and anxiety, it takes her ten minutes to reach the cliff and carefully crawl into the mountain. To her surprise, the tawny-furred griffin is staring at her while alternating between chirping and purring.
Climbing down to the rafters, she approaches the curious animal, its head curiously cocked to the side. It leans forward to let the stranger stroke its beak and run a cool hand against its warm cheek. For a moment, Dariana believes she will not have to use her powers on the creature and moves to climb on its back. The griffin immediately shrieks and flaps, drawing the attention of the riders and their saddled mounts below. With a muttered curse, the telepath forces the beast to accept her as a rider and holds on to its thick fur. Unable to get to the main entrance, she urges the animal to run for the nearest opening and leap out of the mountain without touching the cliff for a proper takeoff. As they hurtle toward the ocean, Dariana flips herself onto the griffin’s back and holds on tight. She fears that she has taken too much control of the animal until it veers toward the sky, its hind legs touching the incoming tide.
“You’re not happy with me. I understand that, but never scare me like that again,” the gasping woman says, scowling at the chuckling beast. Looking back, she can see that the other riders are coming after them. “We have to go north. Wait. I need to grab something that’s a little to the east. Think you can fly by the marketplace for something? Yes, I know we’re being chased, but this is very important. My plan will be ruined if I don’t get this item. Enough with the judgmental thoughts. I was in a hurry and didn’t think I’d find it here. Of course, I know this is sloppy and destructive on my part. Just go to this spot and don’t take any risks.”
With a snort, the griffin wheels around and charges their pursuers, which surprises the more experienced flyers. The youngster dives beneath the adults, forcing Dariana to duck and hold on so tight that her knuckles ache. A peryton lunges into their path, but the nimble woman flips forward and grips her mount’s beak. Her heel slams onto the predator’s head with enough force to send it crashing into a rooftop. Frantic to get Dariana’s hands off its mouth, the griffin bucks and rolls until the telepath returns to its back. Unwilling to let it end there, the animal looks at her and snarls its displeasure at the unexpected contact. Feeling like it has made its point, the beast makes a tight loop and soars toward the marketplace.
Their descent is broken by three griffin riders getting close enough to force them back into the sky. Maintaining such a delicate hold on her own mount’s psyche, Dariana finds it difficult to do anything to their enemies. Every mental push gives the wily beast beneath her a chance to rebel against her control, which becomes more fragile with every fight. It takes a diving spiral for them to gain some distance from the veterans, but the three adults close the gap as soon as the youngster is flying straight again. The only thing that saves them from real attacks is that the guards do not want to risk hurting the animal. Instead, they work to guide them back to the mountain where two of their allies are waiting with snares.
“This is ridiculous,” Dariana mutters as she stands on the griffin.
The telepath leaps off her mount and kicks one of the guards out of his saddle as they pass over Rainbow Tower. Not bothering to see if he landed safely, she coaxes her griffin to fly straight and sets her sights on another target. The former champion jumps to the beast that is in front and dents the rider’s helmet with a ringing punch. The impact is enough to knock the heavy man out, so she tosses his limp body onto a sloped rooftop. Dariana flips back to her griffin as the remaining guard dives to catch her rolling companion before he plunges to the street. By the time the woman has saved her friend and dropped him on the ground, the telepath is several blocks over and swooping into the marketplace.
“This should cover it!” Dariana shouts as she drops a ruby on a stall. She snatches the ring that is calling out to her, but fails to realize that it is on a woman’s finger. The startled shopper is yanked off the ground by her hand and is left staring at the confused adventurer. “Sorry about that, but I need this more than you. Let’s be honest, lady, this isn’t your style and you’d only put it in a jewelry box to be forgotten. I already know you have fifty rings home and you get bored with them after a week or two. So unlike you, I need this and would rather not kill you to get it because I’m in enough trouble. Okay, if that’s the rude thought you’re going to have then I don’t have to apologize for this.”
Dariana roughly braces her foot against the woman’s face and pulls the ring free. She watches the flailing figure fall the short distance to the street where her large, padded dress absorbs most of the impact. Admiring the simple band of blue and white metal, the telepath puts the bauble into her pouch and kicks the griffin in the sides. The beast turns around and screeches its objection to such treatment before slowing to the point where they are hovering over the crowd. Dariana can hear people shouting her name, which causes her to sweat and worry that she has attracted too much attention.
>
“I promise to never do that again,” the former champion mutters while waving to the gathering citizens. She breathes a sigh of relief when the beast nods its head in victory and heads for the clouds. “Great. Go to the northern mountains. I’ll tell you where to drop me off and I promise to give you a snack when we land. Sure, a squirrel if that’s what you really want. Tend to forget your kind eats meat. I’ll find you a wolverine too if you get us there quickly. Stop asking for stuff. You’re getting greedy.”
The battle over Gaia is dying down now that the perytons have been released from Dariana’s influence. A mournful howl from the only surviving troll can be heard from the forest, the noise abruptly turning into a bellow. As they fly away from the city, the telepath looks back to see that the goblins are returning to the forest and the three surviving bandits are being arrested by the guards. Sensing that someone is watching her, Dariana blows a kiss in the general direction of her mysterious tracker. The gesture hides her worry that she is unable to pierce whatever cloud is protecting her unseen enemy’s mind.
“Just one thing after another,” she whispers as Gaia is let behind.
*****
With her attention focused on the nearby mountains, Dariana is unable to block the strike that hits her in the side. The blow is strong enough to knock her off the griffin and snap her control over the beast, which wheels around to return home. Spreading her limbs, she tries to slow her angled fall and aim herself at a lake that she is quickly approaching. Her body grazes a treetop, which flips her over and she splashes back first into the water. Groaning in pain, Dariana lets herself sink in the hopes of sneaking to shore and getting a look at her attacker. She assumes it is whoever has been stalking her for the last two days, but her head is too foggy to make a clear scan. Rising to the surface, the telepath opens her mouth to take a breath and looks up in time to see a purple streak heading directly for her. Fizzle slams into her stomach at full speed, driving Dariana back underwater and leaving her defenseless as his tail wraps around her neck. The drite flies above the trees and does a loop to hurl his former friend into the mud.
“Dariana bad,” the dragon growls, racing forward to attack again. He turns away from her sloppy punch and darts in to butt her in the ribs. “You friend and now enemy. Fizzle not happy. Fizzle hurt. Give other friends back.”
“I really should have done something about you in the swamp,” Dariana coughs while touching her bruised side. She ducks another charge and blocks a tail slap, which leaves a bleeding welt on her forearm. “I guess you being able to hurt and resist Stephen means you can do the same to me. Still think my father would let me keep you once this over. You’re not part of the champion prophecy, so there’s no reason for you to die.”
“Fizzle never be pet!”
“Then fly back to your tree.”
“Not abandon friends.”
“Well that just makes this trickier.”
Still shaky on her feet, Dariana spins by a maple to avoid Fizzle and sprints toward the mountains. Her movements are awkward as she bumps into trees and stumbles through the underbrush. Recovering enough clarity to keep track of the drite, she repeatedly dodges his attacks at the final moment. The narrow misses prove to be a problem for Fizzle because they prevent him from changing direction without making a sharp turn. By the time he veers around for another charge, Dariana has put several trees between them and regained some of her strength. The telepath senses the cunning dragon zipping above the leafless canopy in order to find a better route of attack. With her head nearly clear of the fog, she boosts her muscles and charges ahead in the hopes of reaching the craggy mountains. The stolen memories of Zaria tell her that there are hundreds of hiding places along her path that she can use to escape or sneak attack the persistent drite.
Dariana is nearly at the edge of Visindor Forest when Fizzle comes swooping in from her right and left. She picks up his thoughts about the attack being an illusion, but there is no time for her to focus on seeing through the spell. Toughening her skin, the woman prepares to take the blow from whichever side it comes from and retaliate immediately. To her frustration and surprise, both impacts feel real and she collapses to the ground. One of the Fizzles sheds its illusionary skin to become chubbier and red, Plimp’s yellow wings fluttering rapidly as he returns to his post as the forest guardian.
“You called your cousin for help. Very smart,” Dariana says as she struggles to her feet. Her bones creak and she can tell that a few are broken, but she numbs the pain receptors around the injuries to continue moving. “Though you should have gone for the head. Body shots hurt and slow me down, but a shattered skull would really put me down. Then again, I’ve no idea what it would take to kill me outside of magic.”
“Dariana bluff,” Fizzle states while circling the telepath. He zips around to avoid her swats and half-hearted kicks, the drite suddenly unsure if he should finish her off. “Fizzle see Dariana hurt before. Stephen nearly kill. No win now. Too hurt.”
“Pretty badly hurt, but there’s another reason you should have gone for the head,” the silver-haired woman responds with a blood-dripping grin.
In order to catch the slippery dragon, Dariana pushes all of her power toward his mind and snares his psyche. The immense mental blast stuns Fizzle, who twitches and flips in the air as if trying to escape a net. The attack forces the telepath to undo the effects on her own body, which creates enough pain to drive her to her knees. It breaks her concentration for a moment, which allows the drite to slap her across the face with his tail. A surge of anger gives Dariana the extra strength to refocus her telepathy and prevent any further retaliations. Refusing to pass out from the strain, Dariana rips a hole in the dream world that the champions are trapped in and hurls Fizzle’s mind inside. His eyes vacant, the drite falls to the snowy ground while the telepath slumps onto her side and stares at the clouds.
“And he wasn’t even the one stalking me,” Dariana whispers, stretching her arm as if she can grab the sun. Her vision darkening, she makes sure her ring is still in place and clenches her fist. “I swear to every god that ever existed, I will shred every psyche in the world if I wake up sleepwalking in the wrong direction.”
14
With a wide yawn, Delvin whistles and waves for his friends to join him near a mushroom-covered tree. He crosses his arms and leans against the old oak, making it clear that he is not moving until he gets to speak his mind. Kira grumbles and kicks at whatever is in front of her as she trudges back to the warrior, the impatient woman spinning her sabers. She is already starting to complain about the delay, but her venomous words are stopped when the brown-haired man tosses her the last of the cupcakes that Sari packed. The treat is skewered on the end of her blade and she quietly eats it, her lips and tongue coming dangerously close to the keen edge. Timoran is more appreciative of the break since the trio has been fruitlessly scouring the forest for the last five hours. The barbarian’s knees pop and his lower back aches as he stretches, which makes him consider that he is getting too old for the tedious part of adventuring. When they are all gathered around the tree, Delvin gestures for them to kneel and sit into an awkward huddle. With the warriors sweating in the unseasonal heat all day, the smell is distracting so they separate and give each other some space.
“Being the least skilled tracker here, I have a few questions,” Delvin says, picking at the leaves on a small branch. He plucks one that is covered in ants, the insects crawling around his hand until they drop to the ground. “Do ghosts make any noise when walking? Do they create tracks in the dirt? Can they break branches or scuff trees when they pass? Do ghosts leave any evidence that they have come through an area?”
“No,” his companions sheepishly answer in unison.
“Then how in all of Windemere are we tracking Luke?” demands the frustrated warrior while he runs his hands through his hair. Pulling at the collar of his chainmail shirt, he wonders if they should return to Haven and search again at night. “Forget the fact that
we’re trying to find the ghost of a forest tracker. It appears Luke is aware that he’s dead too. Knowing him, he’s already figured out how to use his new abilities in ways that we can’t predict. This is also his home turf and none of us have holy magic to trap undead. I might be able to copy that type of energy, but I’d fear destroying him. The plan is to take him alive . . . so to speak.”
“My suggestion is that we talk to Luke when we find him,” Timoran states, his ears picking up the snapping of a twig. Instead of the translucent form of a ghost, the barbarian sees a fawn searching for food among the bushes. “I find the situation disturbing, my friends. It has been many years since Luke died, so why reappear now? Also the animals are acting odd and not as numerous as they were during our last visit. There have been no droughts, fires, or any natural disasters to explain their change. I am afraid there is something darker going on here. You can taste it in the breeze if you focus. Someone has been using necromancy. If we can find the person behind the spell then we should be able to put Luke to rest again.”
“Don’t look at me,” Kira says when the other warriors glance in her direction. Sheathing her swords, she takes out her kusari-gama and lazily spins the blunt end. “I’d be lying if I said the idea never crossed my mind. I didn’t go through with it because Luke would hate me for turning him into a monster. Sari is innocent too due to her heart.”
The Spirit Well Page 26
