Revwar straightened triumphantly, holding a sack. “This is it! Both relics are inside. How do you know about Kemora?”
Savannah replied, “I keep a link on all of you, just enough to let me know if one of my companions decides to leave this world before me. Kemora’s link ended with the coldness of death.”
“We are not alone,” Revwar was saying, before Savannah’s sentence finished.
The opposing parties faced each other. Between them lay a fair stretch of ground. It was too much wild greenery to run across safely under the assault of a wizard or archer. As Revwar tucked the bag into his belt, Trestan and Cat realized it was too far a distance to make any attempt at stealing the relics and escaping. Cat had her bow strung, hand poised to grab an arrow from her quiver. Revwar had his pouches of reagents handy. Savannah’s flail still glowed with dark enchantments, though the abbess had a number of ranged miracles at her disposal. Trestan’s empty hands flexed nervously. His minotaur-head hammer sat in a ring at his belt, yet he was forbidden to use it. Without his sword, residing on Savannah’s belt, Trestan only had defensive prayers available.
The quiet staring match shattered as a pair of figures came bursting from the bushes. The first figure’s respectable Orlaun fashion trailed loosely behind him, having come undone by the chase. Jentan Mollamos ran out of breath. The blousy, lacy sleeve on one arm was dampened with blood; cradled ineffectively as he moved. Sweat matted the formerly well-groomed hair, while his cheeks were flushed red from exhaustion. Chasing him was an equally flushed blonde woman wielding a mace. Sondra breathed only slightly easier as the gap closed within an arm’s reach.
“Help me…help…” Jentan gasped through a dry throat.
He was interrupted as Sondra’s free hand finally gripped the back of his outer robe. His upper body jerked back as she raised her mace. Jentan turned as he was caught, raising his uninjured arm to fire the wand in that hand. He shouted a triggering word of power even as Sondra screamed in rage. The powerful bolt missed the woman, striking high into the trees. Her mace clubbed him as they both rolled into tall grass.
Savannah reacted as fast as it took to cast a miracle. Sondra raised her mace from a kneeling position and struck Jentan as Savannah disappeared into thin air. Trestan ran forward, knowing the abbess’ trick. Revwar sent a bolt hurtling towards the paladin and the infiltrator. Fire ignited the grass and bushes, separating them from the action. The last thing Trestan saw clearly was Savannah approaching Sondra from behind.
Although Abriana’s chosen and the half-elf were in no position to see all of the action, Sondra’s mace crashed down a third time. Jentan’s skull crumpled from the continuous impacts. Sondra would have given him more blows in retaliation for the death of her dreams, but Savannah was upon her. Cat observed Savannah touching the back of the acolyte of Ganden. Sondra’s muscles went slack under a paralyzing effect. Trestan and Cat knew from experience that Savannah’s miracle was not deadly by itself, but the younger cleric would be unable to move or speak for several minutes.
Between them and their enemy, the smaller greenery was ablaze. If Savannah wanted to finish Ganden’s faithful, there was nothing they could do in time. The abbess of Death showed more interested in her fallen cohort. Savannah glanced at him, but it only confirmed what her earlier miracle link had already told her. Life had fled.
An arrow launched from Cat barely clipped an opening in Savannah’s helm. A glance toward the companions compelled Savannah to move on to her main goal with all speed. Savannah ran back to Revwar, shaking her head to indicate Jentan’s fate. She muttered, “I am not so strong yet as to bring back the dead on my own, at least as anything more than an unthinking zombie.”
The elf wizard had already deduced, from her lack of any attempt at healing, that the mentalist had joined Kemora in the next life. With their two most supporting members gone, and Foyren likely no longer their ally with Jentan dead, the odds were turning against them.
Revwar dipped fingers into the next magic pouch. “Let us be gone from this place while we have the stones. We have nay reason to risk injury in a fight.”
The abbess of DeLaris nodded back even as one of Cat’s arrows bounced off of Revwar’s magical robe. The elf wizard finally showed his irritation. “Hold these a moment,” he handed her the bag with the relics, “I don’t want my departure interrupted by her aim.”
Savannah stood partially blocking the companions’ view of the wizard. Likewise, Trestan stood to protect Cat as she readied another arrow. There was little more the young man could do.
Revwar released his spell. Trestan and Cat watched as a sphere of ice trailed snow like a comet. The spell fired up into the air, disappearing in the branches above. Unsure why the wizard was aiming into the sky, they looked on in alarm as he lowered his gaze their direction and started casting again. Trestan recognized the spell. The paladin-aspirant prayed to Abriana. In moments a spiritual shield formed once again on his forearm. Revwar’s second spell lanced straight at Cat in a narrow, deadly beam. The beam found only the shield of Abriana blocking its path. As always, the shield disappeared after deflecting the magical attack.
The straightforward attack distracted them from realizing the tactics involving the first attack. Even as Trestan’s defending shield evaporated to nothing, the icy comet dropped on them from the canopy above. Cat held her bow ready for a shot when Trestan jumped in the way. He had nothing ready to shield her except his own armored body.
Cat was driven to the ground under his weight as she heard the ice ball shatter. Dozens of sharp icicles launched in deadly arcs. Her half-elf ears heard shards thumping into the ground, lancing into branches, and a few hitting Trestan’s armor with a metallic ring. The young man let out a grunt as he felt the impacts.
Trestan tried to roll off of Cat when he was done, but the effort pained him greatly. Cat slipped out from under him when she could. Her heart nearly skipped a beat as she worried about his injuries. She doubted there was a luxury of time to check him before Revwar would be able to throw something deadlier at them.
Revwar had used the time to cast an entirely different type of spell. Cat refitted an arrow to her bow as the wizard’s cloak spread out like great, black wings. Savannah hugged his body, ready to be carried away. They were set to make an escape rather than a fight.
For Revwar, the attempt was made not a moment too soon. Another enemy came stumbling out of the trees. Lindon Taleweaver staggered into view. His wide-brimmed hat looked as if someone had sat on it. His clothes were ruffled and blood-stained. Whatever injuries had caused the blood seemed to have been partially healed by some means. He still walked with a limp. The minstrel had his smallsword in hand when he first appeared. Upon seeing Revwar and Savannah preparing to take flight, he allowed the sword to dangle from his wrist as he brought the wooden flute to his lips.
Revwar and Savannah soared from the ground, content to escape with the relics. Lindon made a feeble attempt to bring the ferocity of the wind upon them before they were out of reach. If anything, he only succeeded in bringing down Cat’s arrow.
The silver-haired wizard and his darkly armored accomplice flew out of range, quickly removing them from sight.
* * * * *
Lindon was close enough to Sondra to spot her lying in the grass. The minstrel went to check on her. Cat was fairly sure that the woman was only temporarily paralyzed unless Savannah had learned some new tricks over the years. Cat turned her own concerned eyes towards Trestan.
He was still on the ground. His body sprawled in a way that slightly propped him up from a prone position. From her angle, Cat noticed the extent of his injuries. The young man’s metal plates had dents in a few areas. While those plates had served to protect him, the areas covered by a mixture of chain and leather faired poorly. One icicle protruded from a shoulder. Another bloodied shard stood embedded in his leg. While there were other puncture wounds visible, those two were leaking a lot of blood. Beyond those shards, Cat had no way of knowing h
ow many might be embedded in wounds.
Cat lost all concern for the relics as her worries shifted to her love. The half-elf dropped to her knees by his side, trying to make eye contact with him. His eyelids were drooped past his irises. He barely clung to consciousness. His lips moved as if trying to say something, but Cat’s sensitive hearing only picked up gibberish.
“Trestan! Focus on my words! Hear my voice, please.” When he didn’t respond right away, she dared to gently shake him. He flinched from the pain in his shoulder, but it served to open his eyes more. “Trestan, you have to heal yourself. Pray to Abriana to seal these wounds.”
His words were a stuttered whisper, “Cat…spirit…will you?...”
Cat tried to fight back panic while listening to his rambling nonsense. Her normally nimble fingers fumbled drawing out a cloth. Her hands pressed it against one of his wounds.
She looked up to see Lindon running across smoldering grass towards her. She yelled, “Sondra is paralyzed, isn’t she?”
Lindon nodded, “Seems so, her eyes followed me…and her fingers twitched…she’s breathing, but she can’t seem to do more than that. Her clothes appear bloodied from earlier injuries, but those have been healed somehow.”
“I need that satchel of hers. We need to find a healing potion.” When Lindon turned, Cat fired off another question. “Do you have anything like that on you?”
Lindon held out his arms helplessly, “Nay, I used what I had. Minstrels can regenerate our own wounds to a point, but it only works on the performer.”
Cat bandaged Trestan’s wounds, but she feared it wasn’t enough. Trestan had already lost a lot of blood. Once, she had lain dying in his arms. Now Cat was on the opposite side of the same situation. She felt helpless.
Lindon ran over, carrying the satchel. “There are bandages inside, and medicinal herbs I don’t recognize. I’m afraid I don’t see any marked as healing potions.”
Even as he offered it, she tore it from his hands. Cat upended the contents on the ground. Bloody hands sorted through several vials. All were labeled, and each label added to her frown. Her hopes were sinking fast. “What about Sondra?”
The minstrel shrugged, “She seems quite incapacitated. I doubt she will be able to help for several minutes. She does not bear any outward wounds, only the hindering effects of the paralysis. I don’t have any solutions that will grant her a quicker recovery.”
The half-elf threw down the latest herb vial with an audible growl, betraying her anger. Lindon put pressure on Trestan’s wounds as Cat tried to think up options. The nightmare instilled by Jentan earlier was becoming a reality. Trestan was slipping from her. If she didn’t find a way to heal him, she would be left with a grave and a fair amount of guilt that she had allowed her fears of their aging to interfere with committing all her love to him.
The solution came to her. She recalled the endured pain when using the healing powers of the Sword of the Spirit on the woman in Troutbrook. She would be willing to suffer such pain again if it could stabilize Trestan’s injuries. A loan of sustaining life-force was an easy sacrifice to choose. Cat reached for the sword handle, but found an empty scabbard on his back.
Though Trestan could not hear her, a disbelieving Cat could not help but ask of him. “Trestan, where is your sword?”
* * * * *
The robe gave a final flap of air as Revwar and Savannah safely touched down. They were not far from the debris field of the Doranil Star. As they stepped apart, Savannah readjusted the angle of the elf blade tucked in her belt. Revwar patted the bag containing the relic stones once more, as if he needed reassurance that they had indeed obtained their goal.
On the ground before them was a teleport circle, inscribed by Revwar during the night. It was a matching copy of the decayed circle he had created on the ship. Another copy was back in a secret area near Orlaun. The wizard paused to reexamine the circle for accuracy.
Savannah couldn’t pass up a comment. “So, what happens, after all this time, if the circle near Orlaun has been tampered somehow?”
Revwar’s yellow eyes flashed at her, “Please don’t even think about it. I wouldn’t envy trying to escape back through Faer’Seelie woods, racing to some friendly outpost trying to get to a boat before they track us down.”
“And they can’t follow us through this?” The blonde abbess indicated the arcane portal.
“Nay,” the elf was quick to respond. “The moment we are safe back on Quoros I will destroy the teleport circle there. Without its twin, a teleport circle is just mere decoration.”
After a few more moments of consultation, Revwar announced it was time to proceed. Though they had lost two valuable allies, the goal had been achieved. Revwar and Savannah had captured the weapons which they viewed as stolen. The goddess DeLaris and her undisclosed partner were now in control of all three Earthrin Stones with plans in place for an invasion. Despite gods such as Ganden, Yestreal, and Abriana being aware that fell deeds were being committed, the ambitious goddess and her cohort were playing by the rules of the Covenant. Mortals would now be the sole instruments in this new struggle for power.
Two such mortals, Revwar and Savannah, had played their part admirably. As the wizard cast his spell, the two of them teleported off of the Wilder continent. They reappeared hundreds of miles away an instant later, and promptly removed the teleport circle that could be used to pursue them.
* * * * *
“Trestan, please come back to me.” Cat spoke into his ear.
There was no response. His breathing labored; blood still ran down his body. Cat and Lindon had done all they could to mend the wounds. The ice shards protruding from his flesh, which they dared not remove, started to melt away at a fast rate. Cat’s fingers barely felt his pulse. She could hear Sondra trying to speak, but the abbess’ paralyzing miracle kept her muscles slack.
Lindon whispered, “We may lose him before she can recover. I have nay talents to help with his injuries.”
Cat bowed her head. Tears appeared, running down her smooth cheeks. She felt sorry that she had ever kept any distance between them. She cursed her own hesitancy and age-related fears. At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to be at his side no matter what the future would bring. The half-elf leaned her head on one of her hands for support as she lost her composure.
She felt the golden knots of the Taef’ Adorina under her fingers. It had been Trestan’s most precious gift to her. Forged in secret their first summer, under the direction of the wizard Korrelothar, and molded in the same pattern as the inscribed elvish weave on his sword.
Cat’s head jerked up with a gasp. Lindon noticed Cat’s change in expression, as she ran her fingers over the tiara. It surprised him as she leaned forward with renewed zeal, placing her hands over Trestan.
Just as she had used the sword once, she called upon the tiara to do the same. Cat willed her life energy into Trestan. For a moment, she wasn’t sure if it would work. When the sensation of pain traveled down the length of her entire body, she wanted to cry out in joy. It was agonizing yet wonderful, for through her suffering she felt her life feed Trestan’s energy. Wounds closed over, sealing the loss of blood. The two largest icicles were pushed out of the skin as those wounds party regenerated. In return for her sacrifice, Cat felt the stabbing sensation of several ice shards.
Lindon watched with interest as Cat contorted in pain, all the while releasing a pained smile. Trestan’s wounds stopped bleeding. Color had come back to his face; he began to stir. Yet Cat screamed and writhed as if a brand of hot iron pierced her body. Trestan’s eyes opened even as Cat released her connection and fell beside him.
The paladin-aspirant looked over at her in alarm, the weariness from his own injuries still lurked in his eyes. She remained conscious as well, draping an arm over him as he lie there. She whispered in a weary tone, “Call upon Abriana. You have to finish the healing for both of us.”
Trestan did as she asked without hesitation, calling upon the hea
ling miracle of his goddess. He restored Cat’s vitality first. Though she bore no outward physical marks, her insides had suffered damage equivalent to that which had been healed in Trestan. Having used his healing and miracles earlier, it limited what he could accomplish. He still managed to mend most of the damage done to him and his beloved. It left him tired, but only requiring a decent rest.
After Trestan’s efforts had been exhausted, Lindon was able to assist Sondra in joining them. The paralyzing miracle left Sondra weak in the legs, yet she would recover shortly. The young woman stayed silent, holding her mace in one hand and her healing satchel in another. She looked as if afraid that she would need to use either at any given moment. There was something more in her expression that neither Trestan nor Cat missed. The young woman kept looking at the stains on her mace. She had to come to grips with the death of a man by her hands.
Trestan looked to Cat with confusion in his eyes. “How did you heal me? I felt you pulling me back from the dark, yet I remain confused as to how you did it.”
Cat beamed a smile in return. She lifted the golden tiara off her head and offered it to him for inspection. “I was hit on the head hard enough that I should have died, yet the tiara and my scalp came away virtually unscathed.”
Trestan looked over the Taef’ Adorina in his hands. “I’m still…unsure what you mean.”
Cat giggled, “You forged this using the patterns and runes carved into your magic sword, under the guidance and assistance of a wizard. It seems Korrelothar put something into this gift that even you didn’t know about.”
By the amazement in Trestan’s brown eyes, she knew she was right. He came to the right conclusion, “This tiara acquired the power to heal if offering one’s own health in sacrifice, like my sword? And it is enchanted enough to guard your head against a powerful strike?”
The Earthrin Stones 2 of 3: Trials of Faith Page 51
