World in Chains- The Complete Series

by Ryan W. Mueller

  It was the wagon, but how could he catch them?

  In theory, a weave of Yellow and Blue could shield a person from a fall, but Deril had never tested that theory himself. He took a deep breath and drew on his light reserves, weaving the colors inside him with ease. The air shimmered as the shield surrounded him like a giant bubble.

  He leapt off the cliff.

  His stomach lurched as he plummeted. The drop had to be at least two hundred feet, and he prayed he wouldn't get tangled in the trees, though they might cushion the fall.

  At last, he hit the rocky road, and sharp pain exploded in his legs. The world flared into brightness as he crumpled in a heap, feeling so much pain he thought he'd pass out. Well, his shield had softened the impact, but not enough, and now the wagon would get away.

  Idiot, he thought, nearly overcome by the pain. But he couldn't have lived with himself if he hadn't tried. If only he'd practiced this ability with shorter falls first.

  He had no idea how long he lay there, lost in troubled thoughts, trying to distract himself from the pain. His thoughts only made it worse.

  What would happen if his father died? Deril and Karik couldn't fuel the sun. All the other potential Sunlords had died under mysterious circumstances. Deril's father always tried to shrug that concern aside, but Deril could see it in the lines on his face, could feel it in the tension that hung in the air every time they discussed Deril's failures.

  Deril tried to stand, but searing pain shot through his legs. He fell to the ground, tears streaming down his face. He had failed, and now the world would suffer.

  Its last hope was a prisoner in that wagon.

  No. Deril couldn't let that happen. He crawled to the edge of the rocky path, feeling as if he'd pass out from the pain, and looked down to watch the wagon's progress. It was heading south, away from the city.

  Deril closed his eyes, weaving Blue and Purple within him.

  Captain Hanir, he said in his thoughts, directing the weave toward the temple.

  The response came a moment later. What is it, Deril?

  The wagon is heading south toward the Frozen Lands. You need to get every Sun Guard you can find on its trail. He hesitated a moment. I also need some help. I've broken my legs.

  Don't worry, Hanir sent. I'll handle everything. You've done well.

  Deril terminated the weave. Done well, he thought bitterly. I've failed in every way imaginable. But as he sat there on the cold, rocky ground, he realized that others had failed as well. The Sun Guard had sworn to protect the Sunlord.

  Captain Hanir had to feel even worse than Deril. At least Deril might have an excuse. Perhaps he truly did lack the talent to become a Sunlord, and that was something he couldn't control, the way he'd been born.

  If only that could have comforted him.

  A few minutes later, he was reclined in the back of a wooden wagon moving gently along the mountain slope. Tiran leaned against the side of the open wagon, and two Sun Guards sat in the front, leading the horses up the slope.

  Deril moaned as he set up, his legs stretched out in front of him. "I feel like I've been to see Halarik."

  "What did you expect?" Tiran said, giving him a scathing look. "You jumped off a mountain."

  "I thought my shield would work better."

  Tiran barked a laugh. "Well, that's obvious."

  Deril's legs felt like they were on fire. "How bad am I?"

  "It's nothing some time with a good healer shouldn't fix."

  "At least we know one of those," Deril said, fighting a wave of dizziness. Watching the movement of the trees to their left made him feel sick. "Have you received any word on my father?"

  "Don't worry about him right now. You need to rest."

  "You know I'm not going to rest," Deril said, fighting back his anger. "Tell me."

  Tiran remained silent a long time, looking away. Damn him. Deril didn't need to hear the news to know it wasn't good. It was just like Tiran, though—always the voice of caution.

  "All right," Tiran said. "They got away, probably to the south, away from the city." He drummed his fingers against his thigh. "But we'll catch them. We've sent word to every corner of the country. They can't escape all the guards."

  "I have the feeling they will," Deril said. "They're headed to the Frozen Lands."

  "You think Fireweavers are behind this?"

  The cart moved over a rough section of rock, jostling them. The pain in Deril's legs intensified, like someone was stabbing him with a hot knife. "Who else would kidnap my father?"

  "But there's no way Fireweavers could gain access to the temple."

  "Perhaps you're right," Deril said as the pain dulled. He had no answer for that hole in his theory. Sun Guards could use a weave of Orange and Yellow to detect the enhanced heat fields around Fireweavers.

  Unless the Fireweavers were careful not to use their powers.

  Still, most Fireweavers were outlaws in Tarileth. Those who didn't escape to the Frozen Lands faced execution. How could a group of them operate so efficiently and inconspicuously right in the heart of Tarileth, gaining access to the most important temple in the world?

  At last, the wagon stopped before the open gate, where two Sun Guards carefully positioned Deril on a large, flat slab of stone. Even so, Deril's pain exploded. His head swam, and the sunlight seemed strangely bright as the Sun Guards carried him back into the temple, passing up the grand stairs, through the large entrance, and along the wide stone corridors.

  They entered one of the temple's bathing chambers. The two Sun Guards stripped Deril of everything but his undergarments and placed him in a large stone tub full of water heated by Red Suncasting. Tiran followed the entire time, looking on with concern.

  Concern for Deril's father, for the entire world. Not for Deril, who'd be all right.

  Deril tried to ignore the pain as he reclined in the tub. A few minutes of agony later, his mother Erine entered the room.

  "How's my foolish son?" she asked lightly, but he could see fear in her blue eyes. "Jumping off a cliff. Even your father never tried that one."

  "I know it was stupid," Deril said. "Can you just heal me already?"

  She placed her hands on his legs, closed her eyes, and did a Blue Suncasting. Deril's pain abated, and the tension in his body eased. He sank back in the tub, exhaling with relief. A dull ache remained, but he could handle it.

  She stood. "Feeling better?"

  "Much better—at least physically." He sat up, his underclothing drenched. Cool air hit him, and he shivered despite the warmth of the Sunlamps.

  "You need to rest," his mother said. "The healing process is not complete."

  Deril climbed out of the tub, his legs complaining a little. "There's no time to rest, not with Father missing."

  "It's not your duty to rescue him," she said. "You might be our only hope should something happen to him, especially since Karik is gone as well." She looked away, shaking her head. "Let the Sun Guard do their job. They're good at it."

  Deril wavered on his legs, grimacing against a dull ache. "The Sun Guards lack my Sunweaving talent. I might not be a Sunlord, but I'm the best man for this task."

  "Your mother's right," Tiran said, resting a hand on Deril's shoulder. "You can barely stand right now. What good do you think you'll do? We don't even know where they've gone."

  "Yes, we do," Deril said, brushing Tiran's hand away. Why didn't anyone believe Deril? Yes, there were elements in Tarileth that strove for political gain, especially among the Sunweaver Council, but everyone respected the Sunlord. Only Fireweavers, those whose powers came from Halarik, would be insane enough to threaten the entire world.

  "You only have a suspicion," Tiran said. "We need proof before we act."

  "Then I'll find that proof," Deril said, clenching his fists. He took a few deep breaths. "That shouldn't require me to exert myself too much. I'll be careful."

  Tiran gave him a sharp look. "You just jumped off a cliff. Forgive me if I don't believe y
ou."

  "You're too valuable," Deril's mother said, avoiding his gaze as though she were hiding something.

  Deril walked to the other side of the room, turning away from both of them. The pair of Sun Guards stood nearby. They probably thought him insane, and maybe he was. He shouldn't have taken such a risk.

  He turned back to his mother. "I'm not going to be a Sunlord."

  "You don't know that," she said, shooting him a fiery look. The kind of look he'd seen too much. She'd always favored Karik.

  "Yes, I do."

  "But you're the only hope we have," she said. "It won't be Karik."

  Deril narrowed his eyes and tested the strength of his legs. They seemed to be recovering, but it would be a few days before they returned to normal.

  "Why not Karik?" he asked. "He's always been more talented than I."

  She looked away. "It doesn't matter. Trust me on this, all right?"

  "What aren't you telling me?" Deril asked. "It could be important."

  She chewed on her lower lip. "Not here. Come with me."