From a Far Land

by G David Walker

  “Because I am tired of being relegated to myths and legends. The Covenant was fine when we first gained our powers. It prevented us from destroying this world, and maybe even ourselves. But now we’ve mastered our power. It’s ridiculous for us to still be bound by something that no longer serves a purpose.” He turned to the flaming figure. “Darnoc, you remember. We discussed this.”

  “Yes, I remember,” Darnoc said. “But as I recall, we agreed to let it be.”

  “That was over two hundred years ago,” Regor said. “I got tired of waiting.”

  “It was not your decision to make,” said the matron, both eyes bright red. “While I understand your frustration, Regor, you had no right to act on your own.” She turned to Nyala. “And what of you? You said you sought to retain the balance. Did you give your power to this boy as well?”

  “No, Airam,” Nyala said. “Jason’s power is his own. I merely showed him how to use it.”

  Regor laughed. “I doubt that. If any of you had felt his attack on me, you would find that statement highly questionable.”

  “His attack was self-defense, and you know it,” Nyala shot at him. “You attacked him first. He was trying to survive.”

  “Still,” Airam said, “it would be very unusual for a boy of his age to possess the kind of power Regor describes.”

  “I believe her,” the shifting one spoke up. “Nyala and I have had our disagreements over the years, but she’s not a liar.” He looked at Jason. “I’m Nivek,” he added. Jason nodded to him, grateful that at least one of them acknowledged him. If he was Nivek, that would make the whirlwind Ekim.

  “Nyala, why didn’t you come to us when you learned of Regor’s actions?” Haras asked.

  “We haven’t spoken as a body in centuries,” Nyala said. “I was afraid it might lead to unnecessary confrontations among us. My hope was to deal with the situation quietly, and keep the rest of you from ever knowing it had happened.”

  “Understandable, even if mishandled,” Ekim said.

  “So, what do we do about the situation?” Darnoc asked. “Is the Covenant broken?”

  “No,” Airam said. “Bent, perhaps, but not broken. Although Regor brings up valid points regarding it. It may be that we need to discuss…other options.”

  “Other options?” Nyala asked. “You can’t be considering Regor’s plan.”

  “I didn’t say that, Nyala. I said other options, one of which may or may not be Regor’s idea. Just because we haven’t met as a group, doesn’t mean there haven’t been individual discussions. Considering the situation, I think it’s time we all get back together and decide if we want to continue the Covenant, or explore other possibilities.”

  Jason saw several of the group nodding in agreement. Nyala shook her head, but didn’t say anything further.

  “So what do we do now?” Nivek said.

  “I say we let the situation play itself out, without any further interference from either Nyala or Regor,” Darnoc said. “If the boy’s power is indeed his own, and if Regor has been giving his power to this Bodann character, it should resolve itself rather quickly. Then we can focus on the future.”

  Airam looked at the others. “Is that acceptable to everyone?”

  The other four nodded in agreement.

  “Very well. Nyala, Regor, your part in this is over. Do not interfere again.” She turned to Jason. Her eyes turned white and gained a blinding brilliance. “It’s time to send you back, young man.”

  ~~~

  Jason landed on the packed earth with a thud that drove the air from his lungs. He rolled to his hands and knees, disoriented by his sudden change in location. The last echoes of the explosion still hung in the air. He looked up the hill and saw Bothan struggling to his feet. From one side he heard coughing. Looking to his right, he saw Reyga trying to prop himself up on one elbow. A surge of relief poured through him.

  “Where’s Regor?” Bothan shouted. “What did you do?”

  Jason looked up the hill. “I didn’t do anything,” he called. “Regor’s gone. It’s just you and me now.” He saw that the threads connecting Bothan to his army were all gone, apparently a product of Regor's borrowed power. He looked over at Reyga, who was sitting up and looking around dazedly. Since it looked like the Loremaster would be okay, there was some cleaning up to do.

  He turned back to Bothan just in time to see him throw a bolt of power. He caught the blast on his shield as he stood up, but another blast at his feet knocked him backwards.

  A third bolt flew past him. He heard it detonate behind him followed by a rumbling crash. He glanced over his shoulder to see that a large pit had opened up in the ground about ten yards behind him.

  Another explosion at his feet threw him off balance, sending him closer to the pit. He looked at Bothan, standing halfway up the hill. His ancestor was throwing blast after blast of dimsai, driving him back toward the edge of the pit. He was spending too much time trying to catch his balance to be able to focus on a counter attack.

  Yet another blast, and his feet landed a few inches from the edge. He looked up to see another bolt flying toward him. He managed to catch it with his shield, but the impact made him take another small step back. Oh man, this is really gonna suck. He windmilled his arms frantically, trying to regain his footing, as the ground crumbled underneath his feet. As he started to fall, he grabbed for the edge. His fingers brushed against the rim, but immediately slipped off. Then he was falling into the pit.

  He tried to twist to see how deep the pit was when a jerk wrenched him around and slapped him against the rock wall. He hung in midair, something holding onto his arm. Then Lenai appeared, her feet braced on the side of the pit, one hand grasping the edge, the other wrapped firmly around his wrist.

  He thought he might have a heart attack. He said the first thing that popped into his head. “So,” he gasped, “does this make us even?”

  A smile bent one corner of her mouth. “Perhaps,” she said. “But we can discuss that another time.”

  She hauled him back up so that he could hook his hands over the edge. He struggled out of the pit and looked up the hill. Bothan had mounted a horse and was riding through a portal at the top. Before Jason could stand up, Bothan had disappeared. Just before the portal winked out, he saw a streak of yellow zip through.

  After a few moments, an image appeared in his head. “Jason, he is here.”

  Crin, have I ever told you you’re the best?

  Crin sounded amused as he replied, “Yes, but it’s always nice to hear it again. Now you must hurry. He rides toward the Riftlands.”

  He turned to Lenai. “I have to go after Bothan. Can you stay here and take care of Reyga? He’s been hurt.”

  “I will tend to him,” she said. She laid a hand on his shoulder. “Jason, be careful.”

  “Don’t worry. I will.” Then he opened a portal to the location Crin showed him and stepped through.

  *****

  Reyga saw Jason disappear through the portal. Then Lenai jogged over to him.

  “Loremaster Reyga, are you injured?” she asked, as she kneeled beside him.

  “Nothing that will not heal, my dear,” he said. “Where did Jason go?”

  “He goes after Bodann.”

  “Where?”

  She shook her head. “He did not say.”

  He looked toward the battlefield. It appeared that Jason had been successful in breaking Bodann’s hold over the creatures in his army. Less than half of the enemy remained, and the creatures were attacking each other more than they were attacking the Haven fighters. Most of the Haven forces had actually withdrawn to a safe distance, only intervening when any of Bodann’s fighters tried to escape. The battle would be over soon, with the Haven forces achieving a shocking victory.

  Then he saw Gatlor, Seerka, and Calador walking toward them. Although Gatlor bled from several scrapes, and Seerka had a slight limp, they did not look seriously injured. He breathed a sigh of relief. When Bodann cast them away,
he had not known whether their departure would be permanent or not. Lenai helped him to his feet as they walked up.

  “Loremaster Reyga,” Gatlor said. “Are you well?”

  “I am well, Captain. A few bumps and bruises is all.”

  “Where is Jason Bennett?”

  “Bodann fled,” he said. “Jason went after him. We do not know where.”

  Suddenly, an image appeared in his head. Along with it, he felt a presence in his mind.

  “Loremaster Reyga.”

  He stiffened as he heard the voice in his head. Nyala? Jason? No, it did not sound like either of their voices.

  “Loremaster Reyga, can you hear me?”

  “I hear you,” he said.

  Gatlor looked at the others, who shook their heads. “Loremaster,” he said. “No one spoke.”

  He waved his hand, shaking his head. “Not you.”

  “Loremaster, Nyala bids me show you where Jason has gone. Bodann leads him to the Riftlands. He needs your help, and the help of the warriors with you. You must follow.”

  “Who is this?”

  He saw the warriors exchange puzzled glances, clearly wondering about his sanity. “Loremaster Reyga…” Lenai began, before he shushed her.

  “My name is Crin.” The location faded, replaced by the image of the fortunewing they had encountered outside his home. “I am Jason’s companion.”

  “You are the fortunewing?”

  “Yes,” the voice said. “Now you must hurry. Bodann is leading Jason into a trap. Jason will die without your help.”

  “Why does Nyala not protect him?”

  The voice sounded impatient. “Nyala and Regor have been removed from this conflict. They are no longer allowed to interfere. Nyala risks much asking me to relay this information to you, but feels it is necessary. You must hurry.”

  The original image filled his thoughts again, and then the presence was gone.

  He blinked the dust from his eyes. Then he took a couple of steps away from the others and began creating a portal.

  “Loremaster Reyga, what are you doing? Where are you going?” Gatlor asked.

  “You mean where are we going,” he said. “Bodann is leading Jason into a trap with the intention of killing him.”

  “Loremaster,” Lenai said, “how do you know this?”

  “I will explain later,” he answered. “We must go now. Jason’s life depends upon it.”

  The portal sprang into existence. Through it could be seen the turbulent atmosphere of the Riftlands. He looked toward the Riftlands in the distance. Somewhere out there, Jason Bennett was going to die unless they could get there in time to prevent it. At his urging, the others ran through. He looked at the Riftlands once more. We are coming, Jason. I just hope we are not too late. Then he stepped through and the portal vanished.

  Turning the Tables

  Jason stepped out of the portal, looking around to make sure Bothan wasn’t waiting to spring another trap.

  “This way, Jason.”

  He saw his ancestor in the distance, riding at an easy trot toward the most inhospitable area he had ever seen. The clouds seemed almost malevolent as they roiled and churned overhead. Massive distortions twisted the atmosphere, creating disturbing voids in the landscape, and the chill wind blowing out from the storm had a bite to it that went beyond mere physical discomfort. It was as if his nightmare that first night had come to life. Nothing like walking into your own bad dream. But he had no choice. If he was ever to confront his ancestor, now was the time.

  He started running toward Bothan’s retreating figure, using his power to enhance his speed. Soon he could tell that he was closing the distance between them. He studied the big man as he ran. Bothan held the reins with one hand, while a globe of dimsai enveloped his other. He prepared to throw up a shield in case Bothan suddenly turned and attacked.

  He had closed the gap between them to a hundred yards when the glowing globe vanished. He slowed. Be ready, Jason, he told himself. Bothan turned and looked over his shoulder. When he saw Jason chasing him, he grinned as if he’d been hoping to see his young visitor. He kicked his horse up to a gallop, opening up some distance between them. Not far from one of the rifts, he pulled his mount to a halt and jumped off, the grin still on his face.

  Jason slowed to a jog. What’s he up to? He scanned the area constantly as he approached, waiting for his ancestor to spring the surprise.

  “Jason, you must be careful,” Crin sent. “The Riftla—" The inner voice cut off.

  Crin? He looked up. Crin sailed overhead, adjusting his wings constantly to compensate for the blustery winds.

  Crin? Still no answer. He didn’t know why his friend wasn’t answering, but as long as he could see that Crin was okay, there were other things to deal with.

  He watched Bothan as he drew closer. Considering the events at the battlefield, the man seemed unconcerned. He can’t be waiting for Regor, can he? He hoped Regor really was out of the picture. He stopped when he was within fifty feet. He could feel his anger building again, but something was different this time.

  “Well, lad,” Bothan said, “welcome to the Riftlands. Lovely place, isn’t it?”

  “Definitely,” he said. “It’s where this will finally end.”

  “Aye,” Bothan said, glancing at the sky. “That it will, lad. That it will.” He squared his shoulders and looked Jason in the eyes. “Well, do what you must.” He made no further move, simply stood there.

  Jason hesitated. Something wasn’t right. Bothan suddenly pointed his hand toward him. Acting on reflex, Jason threw a blast of dimsai. Or at least he intended to. Nothing happened. He tried again. Still nothing. What? He stared at his hands and then thrust them at Bothan yet again, watching as they stretched out impotently. Then he heard Bothan chuckling.

  “What did you do?”

  Bothan just grinned at him.

  “What did you do??”

  Bothan laughed and started walking in a wide circle around him. “Didn’t Nyala teach you anything? You’re in the Riftlands, laddie. Where dimsai may or may not work.” He stopped when he was between Jason and the Scorched Plains. “As it happens, where we’re at, it doesn’t.”

  Jason backed a couple of steps away. He wanted to kick himself. Nyala had told him about dimsai and the Riftlands. He’d been too intent on catching Bothan to think about it.

  He jumped as Bothan’s horse snorted behind him. He glanced back to make sure nothing was coming out of the rift, and then looked again. A sword hung from the side of the saddle. He lunged for it. He didn’t expect to beat Bothan with the few lessons he’d been given at the keep, but maybe he could maneuver around him and make his way back to where his power would work again.

  He turned around to see that Bothan had drawn his sword and was watching him with a little smile.

  “Aye, lad,” Bothan said, “it always comes down to this. A man lives and dies by the sword. Always has, always will. Whether it’s made of treachery, magic, steel, or wits makes no mind. It’s still a sword in the end.”

  He stepped toward Jason. “Let’s be about it then.”

  Jason got his sword up to block Bothan’s overhand swing. The shock ran up his arm all the way to his teeth, almost making him drop the weapon. He jumped back to avoid the next sweeping attack. He managed to get a firm grip again just in time to parry Bothan’s backswing. He backed off another couple of steps and moved to the side, hoping to get into a position to move around Bothan, but the big man moved sideways with him, blocking his route.

  A streak of yellow sliced through the air, but, unlike the Trellin ambush, this time Crin’s attack failed to hit his target. With a flick of his sword, Bothan slapped Crin to the ground. Jason’s anger surged as he looked at the unmoving body of his avian friend. He lunged at Bothan, but the man knocked his sword sideways, laughing as he did.

  Movement behind Bothan caught his attention. He saw five figures approaching. Reyga. A flood of relief went through him. Now if he could
just hold out until they got there.

  His emotion must have shown in his face because Bothan gave him a strange look, then came at him with a slicing attack. He stumbled backwards, feeling the sword pass just inches from his throat. Bothan glanced over his shoulder toward the Plains.

  “Well,” he said. “I was wondering if they might show up. Good. I would have hated for them to miss this.”

  He turned and attacked again. Jason managed to parry one blow, but Bothan’s attack was much faster and harder than before. His next blow numbed Jason’s hands, and the one after that sent Jason’s sword flying. He’s been playing with me. He felt the cold blade exit his back before his brain registered that it had entered his front. He looked down at the length of metal sticking out from just below his ribs, his eyes following the blade back to Bothan’s hand. It didn’t hurt as much as he would have expected, but it was suddenly very hard to breathe again.

  Bothan leaned toward him. “Sorry, lad. We could have ruled together. You just chose the wrong side.”

  Bothan yanked the blade out, and the searing pain came. He clutched at the wound and sank to the ground, fighting for each breath. Odd. It sounded like someone was calling his name. He looked down at his hands. So much blood…

  *****

  The portal vanished behind him as Reyga stepped out.

  “This way, Loremaster Reyga,” Gatlor said pointing toward the Riftlands.

  Reyga looked where Gatlor was pointing. In the distance he could see two figures facing each other. Jason and Bodann. He started moving toward the two as quickly as his bruises would allow.

  “We must hurry.” He pushed through the pain and managed to break into a halting jog. It still was not enough. “You go ahead,” he told them. “I will be there as quickly as I can.”

  “I will help you,” Lenai said, slipping her hand under his arm as Gatlor, Seerka, and Calador began running toward the two in the distance.

  As they got closer, Reyga saw Jason squaring off with a sword. He shook his head and forced his legs to move faster. Bodann, while not being a master, was still an accomplished swordsman. Jason would not win this fight.