Finally, almost defeated, sensing nothing from the stones, she let out a deep breath she did not realize she was holding. And suddenly, as her body relaxed that one fraction, and her mind accepted the possibility of defeat she felt it - or them rather. She moved her hand back and forth with more purpose now. The indigo stone felt like death to her, causing her hand to flinch. She knew if she touched that stone it would mean her death. The amber stone felt like hate, the vermillion of flame and pain. The azure magestone, however, it felt like life itself, like a breath of fresh air, a drink of cool spring water. She reached down and scooped it up into her hand smiling wide.
She felt the stone in her hand. She felt the stone in her mind. She relaxed and accepted the bond with the stone, and the stone with her.
---o---
Celia's eyes flicked open, the cold stone below her unnoticed. She understood, and with that understanding came acceptance, and with the acceptance - power. She had fallen asleep in the cold evening air, huddled up in a near ball, her joints stiff from the awkward, uneven floor of the stone 'cage' they had been kept in for nearly a full day and night. She saw the others, dozing around in the darkness, and to the flickering light illuminating the bound figure of Robart out in the camp's center.
Focusing her will, she drew power from the violet magestone, even though it was not in her possession, and spoke words of magic and suddenly her skin was on fire, her small clothes remaining intact. She stood, violet flames surrounding her, giving the alcove an unearthly glow.
She could hear the craglings above yell down in agitation and begin to throw spears down at her. They were incinerated in the magical fire surrounding her before they could reach her skin. She saw the others look up, and back away startled, staying as far from her as they could in the small confines.
She stepped up to the wood and vine gate, pausing only slightly as the wood incinerated to almost nothing within moments. "Go get Robart. Make sure he's okay," she ordered as she moved out of the narrow alcove of stone. She noted that they complied; stepping far to the side of her as they raced for the pole he was bound to. She noted that Hoyle grabbed a few of the makeshift weapons in case they were needed, but all eyes were focused on her.
Stepping forward, she cast another spell from somewhere deep in the recesses of her mind, or maybe it was knowledge imparted by the violet magestone, she was not entirely certain. Her mind expanded, and she knew it would only last but a short time and she ordered, in the language of the craglings that she was now able to speak and understand, "Return our possessions and allow us to leave, or feel my wrath!"
A small number of craglings charged her, throwing spears and clubs from a distance. The wooden spears and club handles incinerated a distance from her skin, but one of the clubs had a rock head, which made it through the flames and struck her shoulder. Before other craglings could figure out she could be injured, and possibly killed, in that fashion she flung out her hands, sending balls of violet flame at the offending craglings, incinerating them on the spot.
Turning, she shouted, "I repeat, return our possessions and allow us to leave, or I will burn this entire ravine down to bare rock!" She was getting angry, but she wasn't sure if that was her or the stone. Several craglings began to throw rocks at her, and she was forced to roast them where they stood, several spans away. She did note in the corner of her mind that the other three had freed Robart, and apparently Valena had healed him of many of his injuries, as he was standing watching her with the others. "I want my stones back!"
As she yelled, many of the craglings dropped to their knees and prostrated themselves before her. Soon more were joining the first ones, and within a matter of moments they were all kneeling.
She was facing the cave entrance when the worvine appeared; ears back like a house cat's, his fangs bared. He took a look around the ravine, and noted all the craglings kneeling to her. He threw both her amulet and the violet magestone at her feet. "You go now! No more hurt! You go now!"
"Where is the rest of our stuff?!" she demanded harshly as she picked up her amulet and the fist-sized stone.
The worvine gestured off to one side, under an overhang on the far side of the alcove where they had been caged from the cave entrance. Hoyle and the rest moved over to the pile of their belongings and began to get dressed. Once they were fully clothed and had weapons ready did Celia drop the violet flames surrounding her body and step within the ring of weapons they made around her.
She stumbled as she stepped past Salrissa, who grabbed her arm to steady her and whispered in her ear, "Are you okay?"
Celia could only nod weakly as she slowly dressed herself, the others standing guard. Salrissa helped her stand, and moving slowly, they made their way out of the cragling's ravine. Celia looked back as they mounted the small switch-backed trail up the ravine's side, to see the craglings still kneeling and the worvine standing at his cave entrance watching them go.
Chapter 25
Hoyle was still dazzled by the memory of Celia wreathed in purple flames as she destroyed the gate and fought the craglings off by herself as they trudged back the way from which they had been led just over a day ago. He looked at her now, cradled in Robart's strong arms, having passed out shortly after climbing out of the ravine. Valena had checked her, confirming that she was okay, just exhausted, and that rest was the only remedy. Hoyle felt relief to hear that diagnosis.
He looked at Robart's face, which was currently wracked with confusion, as he carried Celia carefully as they ascended the trail. If he was confused as to why Hoyle had let him live, he must be equally confused as to why Celia rescued him from certain torture. Hoyle would have been willing to sacrifice a day or two more of discomfort with those creatures himself to see Robart tortured for that same amount of time.
They reached the cleft of rock where they had taken shelter the previous evening and passed it, leaving it dark, none of them feeling safe this close to the craglings ravine. Hoyle suspected that they would leave them alone, but suspected that the worvine might want revenge. He looked up at the thin sliver of moon in the night sky. Tomorrow would be the first day of spring, marked by the new moon, the Spring Planting Festival would be in full swing back in Tala'ahar.
As they crested the ridge where they had spotted the Goralonian army the night before they stopped, stunned. Below them no cook fires flickered in the deep night. Even past the mid of night there would be a few burning below that should be seen from this distance - if the army was there.
"Where did they all go?" Valena asked, exhaustion tingeing her voice.
"We have to keep moving," Salrissa stated. He noted exhaustion in her voice too. It had been a long day with little to eat or drink, exposed to the elements, mostly cold; even Hoyle was feeling the burning in his muscles.
"Let's get down this ridge and find a safe place to take a short rest," he responded as he started them moving forward again. He had a good idea where the army went, but had to confirm his suspicions. The others followed him as he found a narrow trail down the far side of the ridge into the trees below.
---o---
They had managed to stumble down the trail in the near darkness without hurting themselves too much, and finally found a small clearing in a tightly packed copse of trees. The clearing had only one gap wide enough to squeeze Robart's wide shoulders through, and therefore they had to pass Celia's limp form into their area of shelter. They laid her down on the soft, mossy ground to one side of the clearing as dawn was lightening the sky. The remainder of them collapsed onto the ground at several points around the perimeter to rest.
Salrissa broke out the remains of her rations, and finished them quickly, had a gulp or two of water from her skin and went to the gap in the trees to stand guard.
They managed to rest for the remainder of the morning, and managed to get some food and water into Celia which brought her around. She was still weak and tired, but finishing off the remainder of her rations brought her energy level up.
Hoy
le moved over beside Celia. "What was that last night?" he asked her quietly, looking at Robart as he did so.
"What was what?" Celia asked groggily. It seemed she was still tired from her experience.
"Oh that little trick where you burst into flame and rescued us all from those stick creatures."
"Oh that." Celia replied. "I'm not entirely sure. And those were craglings."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, those 'stick creatures' as you call them are named craglings. I'm not sure how that was confusing," she responded. He thought he could see a small smile from the corner of his eye, but when he turned to face her, it was gone.
"I meant 'what do you mean you're not entirely sure'?" he tried again with a slight smile. It seemed she was feeling better, or at least, he thought so.
"The quafa'shilaar we found in the sky skiff has been inside my head since I tapped it to get us away from Farad'avor that night. I have been fighting it off nearly since then, but I also couldn't leave it behind in the wreckage, since it had a strong connection with me, and I to it." Celia adjusted her robes around her as she shifted into a more comfortable position. "Besides, it would have been unsafe to leave it there for anyone to find."
"Yes, I suspect that desolate spot has many travellers showing up unannounced... But how did you tap into it to cast your spell? Correct me if I'm wrong, but don't you need to have it about your person to wield your magic?"
"Apparently not." She looked to be thinking fairly hard, so Hoyle sat quietly beside her. He noted that Robart and Valena were whispering to each other on the far side of the clearing about five paces away. Robart kept looking over at Hoyle and Celia. "It pried my mind open, going through my memories, trying to show me something, possibly to communicate with me. It found a memory that worked. I finally accepted that we were bound together, and with that acceptance I found that I could access its power, even though I was not in possession of it."
Hoyle looked down at his hands, and nudged Celia with his shoulder, "Well thanks for saving us... me... again." He looked at her from the corner of his eye.
"Well this would certainly be easier if you wouldn't keep getting yourself into trouble. If you had been more careful," she said with her eyebrow raised, "you could have probably rescued us yourself."
"Yeah, who knew stick people could move that quietly." He looked over at the others as the sun climbed higher in the sky. He could see clouds gathering over the peaks to the west. "We had better get moving, it looks like it might rain later."
---o---
It was mid afternoon as they ascended the next ridge, being the last ridge before the Pass of Maran'toral, when the skies opened up, dropping cold, wet droplets from the sky. They all huddled under their dripping cloaks as they trudged through the gloom, some of the clouds low enough now that they were walking up into and through them. The wet clung to Hoyle's skin and sunk deep into his bones, even through his heavy wool-lined, oiled leather cloak.
They followed the skinny game trail, where wet skeletal branches brushed against them, depositing their gifts of moisture among the group. It was a miserable hike in all, Hoyle finding his heels were beginning to blister in his boots due to the damp seeping into his socks. Visibility was down to only a few dozen paces at best, and after their encounter with the craglings, they were all on edge, hands on weapons, eyes scanning the shadows in the mist.
Finally, in the late afternoon they broke through the clouds into the bright sunshine. They also came out of the forest shortly thereafter into an alpine meadow at the crest of the ridge. They could see for leagues in every direction.
Looking to the southwest, they could see the pass below, shrouded in low clouds like a river of white, running out of the mountains. They could see the sky citadel Farad'avor hovering over the cloudy mountain pass about ten leagues away. The clouds stopped a league or so short of the climb to the Imperial fort below the sky citadel, its eight span high walls barely visible from this distance.
"An army could hide in that soup," Robart muttered almost to himself, but loud enough the others could hear.
"Maybe that's what they're thinking, but how would they get past the lower fort with support from the citadel? It's not like they can get close enough that they won't be noticed, can they?" Celia wondered.
"Well, if they can get within that one league during the day, then they can possibly attack at night with the advantage of surprise." Salrissa ventured. "But does it really matter? We can't really do anything about it from here." She began to trudge through the sunny meadow in the direction of the pass and Farad'avor.
The rest of them followed in silence, which seemed to be the only way the group could get along. Hoyle thought back to an incident right after they set out this morning, where Robart and Salrissa began to argue about who was taking point. Valena intervened with a suggestion of alternating every bell or so, best guess of course. Since then, the tension had been high between them, with Robart even getting gruff with Celia every once and a while. Every time that happened, he felt himself stepping forward to defend Celia, every time earning an arched eyebrow from her or Salrissa, sometimes both. When the women noticed each other they would smile a small smile and turn to other tasks, generally ignoring both Robart and him, and doing whatever they wanted anyway.
That fact alone annoyed Robart to no end. Also, on the rare time someone offered to help him in some way, he would get angry and drive them off. Even Valena had stopped offering to help him, or even talk to him unless she had to.
Hoyle was enjoying the heat of the sun as they traversed the meadow, startling a deer away from its drink at a small creek. After about a bell he felt almost dry and back to himself. Even Robart seemed to be in a better mood, not that anyone was trying to interact with him.
Eventually they got to the tree line, and after about fifteen minutes, found a small game trail leading in the general direction they wanted to go. Hoyle said goodbye to the sun as they entered the shadows of the broken forest, and then finally they were forced back into the misty clouds and dripping branches.
They descended even as the light levels dropped as evening approached, finally casting the mist into a fiery orange-red for a brief few minutes before the sun dropped behind the mountains.
Suddenly, they heard noises ahead in the gloom and stopped. Salrissa nodded to the others and raised the face shield on her armor, covering all but her eyes, and vanished into the shadows to one side. The trees had become less frequent in the darkening mist, so he figured they must have hit the edge of the narrow grasslands running up to the pass.
Hoyle moved against a tree, and gestured for the others to find cover. He watched Robart move between two smaller trees about three paces from him, and saw Celia and Valena crouch down under the branches of another further back from whence they had come. He stood very still, listening for sounds in the deepening gloom. He heard the muffled sounds of armor jingling and horses chuffing in the distance. He heard whispering ahead, as the mist dissipated somewhat he saw a long column of Goralonian soldiers moving up the pass.
The mists closed again, obscuring his view. He could not believe they were less than fifty paces from the Goralonian army. He looked back at Robart, who was standing very still, his eyes wide and angry. He suddenly stepped forward as another man appeared with a sword in his back. He heard shouts as several other men grabbed Celia and Valena from underneath the tree branches where they were hiding.
Hoyle was trying to figure out what to do when he felt something sharp poke him in the back of his neck. A deeply accented voice spoke a command, "I twouldn't move if I were ya." He was grabbed and pushed out into the open with the others. Turning slowly he saw that the other man had a crossbow leveled at him. At that range, it would go through him without much resistance.
Hoyle and the others said nothing as the soldiers gathered up all their obvious weapons, including Celia's amulet and violet magestone. This was becoming too much of a habit he thought as their hands were bound behin
d them.
"Capta'n, I t'ought spies was to be executed?" inquired one of the men.
The one that had warned Hoyle to behave stepped forward and backhanded the soldier. "Yer first mistake was thinkin'," he said, looking at the rest of the squad, who remained silent. The soldier spit out blood and looked at the captain with hatred, but did not act, other than to rub his jaw. "They go ta the warlock, he can decide if they is to be killed. He may want to find out what they know first."
The day had started out bad, but promised to end much worse.
Chapter 26
Celia was less worried since the encounter with the craglings, knowing that she could access the power of the violet magestone from a distance. The only uncertainty was how large was that distance. Of course, she could feel the stone's direction and approximate distance in her head, much like a lodestone would attract iron.
They were hustled south, their hands bound in front of them, a dozen guards surrounding them as they made their way into the westward marching army. They got several looks, from mildly curious to downright nasty, as they were led at a faster pace through the common soldiers towards the front of the army.
Eventually, after a league or so they came to the front of the army as it had begun to slow and form ranks. The scouting party that had captured them led them to a large fire of black and violet flame, most obviously magic. A large black tent rested on a small hummock a short way away.
The scene was confusing as it was ominous. There were eight men lying around the fire, heads towards the flames. Several paces back from their feet, in all eight directions were hundreds of men, lined up in pairs facing the fire. Normal torches were lit around the clearing of men, casting flickering shadows the other fire was eating, but allowing everyone to see... somewhat.
Stones Unbound (The Magestone Chronicles Book 1) Page 26
