“All I got out of him is that he’s tired of being stabbed in the back,” Delvin answers while joining the half-elf on the ground. He grabs a twig and makes winding patterns until he snaps the little tool on an unseen rock. “Luke actually fought her while the rest of us were captured. He knew the entire time what was going on. I’m guessing that was very hard on him. Although, I would think you’d be the same as him. Both of you were involved with Nimby when he showed his true colors.”
“Yes, but Luke was closer to Nimby than I was,” the half-elf replies as she slips her hands under her butt. A burst of warmth runs through her body and she shivers at the sensation of her pants drying. “I’ll admit that I feel uncomfortable around her. Never know if she’s going to touch my mind, especially since her ring broke at some point. Dariana is one of us because Gabriel says so, but I feel like she deserves only one chance and a slim one at that. How can the rest of you be so nice to her?”
Delvin scoops up a snowball and tosses it at a nearby tree, the powder exploding against a large knot. “Because all of us have been in her shoes. Timoran was believed to be a traitor because of the Second Life. Sari and I were turned against the rest of you by the Barghest. I know you’re going to say that none of us were in control of our actions like Dariana, but you saw her memories. She’s been abused and humiliated for most of her life, which has been going on for longer than Windemere has been in its current form. No matter what new world she woke up in, she was met with the same hate until we found her. What Dariana did was wrong, but her heart was in the right place and it makes a little sense when you see it through the eyes of someone like her. By that I mean an immortal who finally has friends after centuries of loneliness.”
“All of that is why I’m giving her a slim chance.”
“Let’s hope that’s all she needs.”
With a yawn, Nyx gets to her feet and tucks her hands into her pockets. She is about to lead the way back to Fyric when she feels something circular against her fingers. The channeler pulls out a ring of orange and yellow jade, which is topped by a flat diamond. A weaving flame is within the facets of the gem, the mild enchantment feeding off Nyx’s potent magic. She is mesmerized by the beautiful piece of jewelry, her trance only breaking when Delvin takes it from her fingers. When the half-elf reaches out to reclaim the ring, she is surprised to see him hand her a band of blue and white metal. They scratch their heads and hold the unfamiliar objects toward the sky as if that will reveal their origin.
“I found that in my pocket three days ago,” the warrior admits while he watches a white flame appear in the diamond. He places it on the edge of the well, but immediately takes the jewelry back out of fear of it falling. “It’s funny. Fizzle asked me in private about the ring I wanted to get for you. This is exactly what I described to him, but there’s no way he could have gotten it with everything that has happened.”
“I had a quick chat with him about this one too,” Nyx says with a smirk. Her expression falters when she considers the best explanation for the rings appearing. “Thought it was strange that Fizzle wanted to be involved with the rings when he doesn’t understand the tradition. It wasn’t him talking to us. Dariana must have located the rings while she was hunting for the portal and slipped them into our pockets before we woke up. Fizzle said she tossed her pouch aside on the cliff and your shield would have brought everything to us, so we were going to find these after she was gone. Probably knew exactly where to buy them before we even made it to Rodillen.”
“If she bought them in the first place,” Delvin points out with a chuckle. He goes down on one knee and reaches for Nyx’s hand, but she pulls away. “This is the ring I want to give you, so I should propose. Will you-”
“I have a ring too,” the half-elf interrupts before kneeling. She tries to catch the man’s wrist only to miss while yanking her own arm out of his reach. “We’re such a pair of idiots. Not even sure why I’m being so stubborn. I vote that we do this at the same time. You take my hand and I take yours. We position like this to get the rings on. On the count of three, we ask at the same time, but no using names because mine is shorter. One, two, three.”
“Will you marry me?” asks the couple at the same time. They cannot stop themselves from laughing as they slide the rings into place.
“I do,” Delvin replies as he gives his beloved a kiss.
“Not yet, Cunningham,” Nyx mutters into his ear. She gives him a peck on the cheek, the touch of his grizzled skin making her sigh. “You’re supposed to say yes here.”
“You didn’t say it either.”
“Well . . . I accept your proposal.”
“That’s a better response?”
“We’re just going to leave this part of the story out when we tell the others.”
*****
Sari laughs at how the wooly tapirs tickle her fingers, the beasts sniffing at her hands in the hopes of getting more food. Kneeling among the animals, she keeps the larger ones away while giving a slice of apple to a baby. Fearing that the small creature may get stepped on, the gypsy gently herds it into a nearby stall where more youngsters are playing. Sari turns to Luke to see if he is enjoying their chore, but the half-elf has moved to the far side of the stables. When she whistles for help, her companion blindly throws a pear into the herd and goes back to fuming in the corner. The tapirs scramble for the piece of fruit and jostle the gypsy enough that she knocks over a barrel of apples. With a chorus of happy squeals, the animals stampede for the easy meal and nearly trample the young woman before she escapes.
Tossing a few gold coins to one of the halflings, Sari walks over to Luke and catches him by the ear. Ignoring his hiss of surprise and rambling complaints, she leads him out of the building and around the corner. She releases the half-elf and creates a wall of snow to prevent him from walking away, but the forest tracker simply leans against the stables. With a flourish of her hands, Sari creates two chairs and gestures for Luke to sit down. He refuses, so she turns her seat into a soft couch of snow and has the other merge with the barrier.
“You’ve been quiet for days,” the gypsy says, tucking her arms behind her head. She closes her eyes to focus on the heartbeat that she remembers being a faulty stutter for years. “Well, not exactly quiet. Every chance you get to threaten, insult, or complain about Dariana results in the rest of us having to wait until you calm down. If you even think of doing the same rant about how she betrayed you just like Nimby and you don’t want her around, I’ll freeze your mouth shut.”
“Might as well do it because that’s all you’re going to get from me,” Luke replies while he slides to the ground. A layer of frost appears on his lips, but he wipes it off with his sleeve before it can thicken. “Do I really need a good reason? She broke our trust and nearly got us killed. I’m angry that the rest of you are being nice when she could still be plotting to hand us over to the Baron.”
“Because that would happen after he sent a Weapon Dragon army to attack us and his daughter wiped them all out,” Sari mutters as she juggles several snowballs. One by one, the orbs pop high into the air and burst into smiling faces. “There’s nothing we can do to satisfy you outside of locking her away, putting her to sleep, or lopping her head off. None of those options would help us with the Spirit Well or against the Baron. The best course of action is to keep Dariana with us and give her a chance to redeem herself. So care to tell me the truth behind your anger? I’m pretty sure it isn’t all about Nimby and betrayal. Did she do something to you that we don’t know about?”
“I am curious to hear this as well,” Timoran interjects, the barbarian coming around the stables. He bows his head in apology and takes the large seat that Sari creates for him. “Dariana is awake and will be healed by nightfall. We leave for the Spirit Well in the morning. Please continue with your story.”
Luke crosses his arms and stares at the cloudy sky, a few feathers sprouting from beneath his shirt. A swirling in the snow stops him from transforming and trying t
o escape what he feels is an inquisition. With a tired groan, the forest tracker faces his friends and nods toward a pile of snow that Sari turns into a chair. Sitting on the cold furniture, he can tell that the gypsy does not want him to be comfortable until he begins talking.
“Dariana killed me,” Luke explains, leaning forward to wring his hands. He stops shifting and takes a steady breath as the chilling memories try to reclaim his mind. “I remember being in darkness for years. Just floating in a void and knowing I was dead, but not having a clue about how the battle ended. Dariana didn’t have me wander the world or move on to the afterlife. She . . . sealed me in nothingness. I thought it had to do with how I died, so I accepted it. When I found myself in Haven, I assumed it was a reward for my deeds that the gods took their time deciding on. They might have had more important things to handle that I wasn’t aware of because I was dead. Now I know the torture was nothing more than her decision.”
“I don’t think she did it to be cruel,” Sari states while rolling off the couch. Taking the forest tracker by the hands, she leads him off the chair and gives him a hug. “Fizzle said she made you the key to us escaping. If you were there the whole time then we would have been free before she faced her father. I’m not saying it was right for her to put you through such pain, but she had a reason.”
“And I should smile and forget about it? Well, I can’t thanks to my bard’s memory,” the half-elf snaps before shoving the gypsy away. He catches Sari by the wrist when he fears she is about to slip and finds himself spun onto the couch. “I guess she forgot about that because the memories won’t go away. Every time I slip into my resting trance, I fear it will last forever. The spirits are nervous too, which makes it difficult to access their abilities. Stiletto is always whimpering and Pike disappears whenever Dariana is around. Lucy is only staying strong because the Sword Dragon keeps wanting to take over and get revenge. My mind is a mess and she thinks I’m going to forgive her?”
“It does neither of you any good to hold a grudge,” Timoran claims, moving to sit next to Luke. He waits for the sofa to grow, allowing Sari to sit on the half-elf’s other side. “Dariana feels guilty about what she has done. I believe she considers herself a failure as a champion and a friend, which nobody can deny. I cannot ask you to forgive her because that is something only you can decide to do. Yet I will warn you that grudges can devour you from the inside. Worse, the rest of us may find ourselves depending on you and Dariana working together. While we may have legitimate issues with her now, we need to trust that each of us will work with her if the situation calls for it.”
Luke meets the barbarian’s narrow gaze, the angry rant on his tongue disappearing with a loud exhale. “I’m well aware of that and I won’t let the rest of you down. Stop looking at me as if I’m being childish. None of you can understand what I’m going through. If I let my guard down then I start to worry that this is the dream and I’m really dead. The memories are so mixed up that I can’t always tell what’s going on. Guess seeing the rest of you talk to her makes me feel like I’m on my own.”
Timoran offers the half-elf a drink from his flask, which is taken and drained in one long chug. With a friendly smile, the barbarian holds the empty container upside down to check for a final drop before tucking it into a pocket. He considers admitting that he has a decanter in his pouch, but he is sure the forest tracker will finish that off if given a chance. The last thing Timoran wants is to inadvertently cause a brawl between a drunk Luke and a timid Dariana. It would accomplish getting the anger and guilt out of their systems, but at the cost of severely delaying their departure. As it stands, the barbarian worries that they have already imposed themselves enough on their hosts.
“We can only understand if you talk to us,” Sari whispers while putting Luke’s head on her shoulder. The gypsy pauses when she finds that their lips are dangerously close, but fears that moving away would give him the wrong idea. “Maybe that will help the memories go away. I would suggest talking to Dariana too. Let her know what’s on your mind instead of avoiding her and driving the rest of us insane. We can only do so much since we have our own problems with her. Though I’d recommend having Timoran, Delvin, or myself there. Best to have a mediator in case one of you can’t control your temper or grief.”
“I’ll consider it,” Luke says, doubting his friends will believe the lie. Putting a finger on Sari’s lips, the forest tracker pushes her away and gets off the couch. “I’m taking a walk. No reason to have Fizzle track me because I’m not going very far. I’ll be back before dawn.”
The wall of snow falls over, which allows Luke to trudge into the forest and disappear among the leafless trees. His friends expect to see the griffin appear in the darkening sky, but there is no sign of the winged beast. When Sari covers her body in a silence spell and prepares to follow the half-elf, she is pulled back by Timoran. The barbarian shakes his head and moves her in the opposite direction, the gypsy immediately making herself immovable. Sari frowns when her friend begins tickling the side of her neck, the sensation running along her spine. Unable to hold out any longer, the young woman unlocks her body and slaps the meaty hand away.
“We should give him the privacy that he desires,” Timoran states while waving to where Nyx and Delvin are walking. He whistles to get their attention, the sharp noise startling all of the animals in the stables. “Luke will be okay. He has been through a lot as a champion and this may have been the final blow to what little innocence he had left. You forget that, unlike the rest of us, he was not hardened by life until he stepped onto this path. As his friends, we must be here for him and give him space. The same goes for Dariana.”
“Polar opposites if you think about it,” Sari says with a wry smile. Spinning on her toes, she hopes to find Luke walking behind them, but there is only a lone tapir eating snow. “One’s life had been all hardships while the other was relatively easy until recently. Now Dariana is trying to come to terms with being happy and Luke is dealing with being wounded. Are you sure there’s nothing we can do besides wait and simply be here?”
The red-haired barbarian laughs and hoists the gypsy onto his shoulder where she sits comfortably. “You have the biggest heart in Windemere, Sari. I am sure that if anyone will find a way to help them, it will be you. Now we should all get some food and sleep. Tomorrow is an important day for the champions.”
A wide yawn consumes Sari’s voice, so she can only nod while struggling to keep her eyes open. The winter chill ripples along her exposed arms, the sensation causing her naiad blood to form sleeves of warm water. Shaking her head clear, the gypsy turns in time to see a short shadow dart behind one of the wooden towers of Fyric. She guesses it is nothing more than a busy halfling and goes back to thinking of anything other than Luke and his strange, yet admittedly justified, behavior.
18
“And nobody else thinks this is suspicious!” Luke exclaims while he points at the crumbling ruins sitting in the swamp. His voice echoes throughout the clearing, scaring away a flock of birds to reveal the rotting bones of a long dead Eusu. “This is the Lich’s castle! The bastard that nearly killed me several times. Why in all of Windemere would a temple be here? Selenia would have found it when she tore this place down. We would have noticed it when we here to save Sari. This is ridiculous.”
“I’m sorry, but it’s the truth,” Dariana replies, shying away from Luke. She rubs her temples and struggles against the doubt and anger that is flowing from the half-elf. “The Spirit Well was here first and a necrocaster built his tower over it. This man wanted to use its energy, but others arrived to fight over the region. After the warriors of Gaia nearly conquered the Caster Swamp, Tyler was sent to remove the necrocasters and erect a castle around the original tower. To be honest, I don’t think he was ever told why this place was so important.”
“This is because you broke the Spirit Well, right?” Delvin asks as he takes a step toward the castle. A rusty sword pops up from the muddy earth, causing him t
o leap away and draw his own weapon. “Never mind! No danger here. I stepped on the hilt and overreacted. Keep thinking all those orcs and giltris we killed are going to rise up as zombies or skeletons. Is that smoke coming off the central tower? Does somebody live here?”
“I believe that’s water vapor from the hot swamp meeting the cold winter air above,” Sari guesses with a shrug. The gypsy feels her mouth go dry and she finds her legs are locking out of fear. “Haven’t been here since Stephen tortured me. Was always hoping I’d never have to come back. This prophecy is definitely funny at some points. I vote that we get this over with and leave the Caster Swamp behind for good.”
Nyx holds up her hand and moves ahead of her friends, a golden glow covering her violet eyes. The channeler meticulously scans the clearing for signs of traps, but finds nothing more than residue from long expired spells. More powerful auras are on the other side of the broken wall, their steadiness making Nyx believe they are dormant. Wanting to make sure the castle is abandoned, she focuses on the central tower and sees nothing more than an empty cauldron that is glistening with green energy. The thick-bottomed pot sits upon an eternal flame, which she stares at for a minute until she fails to recognize the flickering aura. Making another sweep of the area, the channeler finds that all of the magic is gradually fading into the background. Before she cancels her spell, Nyx’s attention is drawn to the castle’s southeast tower and an unnerving void at its base. Taking a step in that direction, she is snapped out of her trance by a strong grip on her arm.
The Spirit Well Page 33
