Darker the Shadow (The Howler King Trilogy Book 1)

by J. Lloyd Morgan

  Understanding came to Wyjec when a final push forced him over the edge of the tower. The fall was quick, and Wyjec landed squarely on one of the large wooden pikes which surrounded the wall of the town.

  The pike did not impale him, but the impact was enough to draw the breath from Wyjec’s lungs. Wyjec’s body bounced from one pike to another before landing with a loud thump on the ground. Momentarily losing the ability to breathe had happened to him before, back when he had been a chardi. Still, panic came with the incapacity to draw air into his body. Once again, the yellow myelur dominated all of his other senses.

  Men cheered from the top of the town’s walls. “He’s down!” Wyjec heard someone cry out.

  “Is he dead?” A voice asked. It was a voice Wyjec recognized: Captain Avadi.

  “Unknown. Though no one could survive that fall.”

  Lying motionless, Wyjec waited for his breath to return. When it finally did, the yellow myelur faded a little, though it remained strong. He remained motionless. There was nothing they could do to hurt him physically—he still wielded the blue myelur. However, he ached more than he thought possible. The betrayal hurt as much as anything he could recall.

  I need to get away. Tilting his head slightly, Wyjec looked toward the tree line to the west of the town. Seeking out with the red myelur, Wyjec found an area in the forest void of human occupants. Somewhere in the forest, the enemy lay in wait. And the enemy was also behind him, in the town. As a point of fact, Wyjec had no allies. I am alone.

  With that solemn understanding, Wyjec got to his feet. Cries of surprise from the top of the town’s walls followed, but Wyjec paid them no mind. The damage was done. For now, all he wanted to do was get away. Still holding onto the blue myelur, Wyjec stood. Though he did not feel pain from the arrow in his side, his body reacted oddly when he tried to walk toward the dense forest in front of him. Ignoring the taunts and threats from those on the wall, Wyjec shuffled-stepped to what he hoped would be the safety of the trees.

  Chapter 18

  For a moment, no one around the campfire spoke. Pendr noticed that Eladrel sat up taller than he had recently. Rilam kept his eyes to the ground, while Danla and the other women in the camp all focused on Mistress Halima.

  “Why would we find what you are about to tell hard to believe?” Eladrel asked. Even his voice sounded stronger than before to Pendr.

  The diminutive leader of the camp folded her hands over her lap. “Because we are going to talk frankly about things which will make you uncomfortable. When people hear things that they don’t like, they tend to doubt them. However, for you to be successful, you must conquer your natural reactions.”

  The women around the fire—a dozen or so—nodded. Danla reached over and touched Pendr lightly on the arm. “Just listen before you make any judgments.”

  No one knew Pendr in this group like Danla. For her to speak up, she must believe I’ll be the one to doubt.

  “Danla was able to find you because one of your group can wield the myelur,” Mistress Halima said.

  “Myelur?” Rilam asked, speaking for the first time since they entered the camp. “What’s that?”

  Pendr had heard the word before—only in whispers. The leaders in Logs Pond had made it clear it was a word which was not to be spoken, let alone discussed, though they had not said why.

  “The myelur is a power, of sorts,” Halima said. “Every living thing contains all aspects of the myelur, though only a select few have the ability to manipulate it.”

  “I don’t understand,” Rilam said. “If what you say is true, why haven’t I heard of this before?”

  Rilam had grown up in the same area as Pendr, though Rilam’s family were sheep farmers and lived on the outskirts of Logs Pond. Because Pendr lived and worked in the heart of the town, he suspected he had heard more than his friend when it came to the things of the world.

  “As I have said,” Halima responded, “people often fear what they find strange or hard to understand. Many would rather not talk about it at all.”

  “Pendr? Eladrel? Have you heard of this … this …” Rilam struggled to say the word which was new to him.

  “Myelur,” Danla prompted.

  “I’ve heard the word before,” Pendr said slowly, “though only in hushed tones.”

  Rilam’s eyes grew wide. “Oh? And you, Eladrel?”

  The tall, thin man did not respond verbally. Instead, he nodded his head solemnly.

  “So, then, what does it do?” Rilam asked.

  Halima stared into each of the young men’s eyes before she continued. “Wise elders study their whole lives to answer that very question. It is complex, yet simple.”

  “That’s not very helpful,” Rilam said.

  Danla huffed. “Clamp your lips and open your ears, Rilam. Give Mistress Halima a chance to explain.”

  “Why? What does this have to do with anything we’ve experienced?” Rilam asked. Danla and Rilam knew each other quite well from growing up in the same area, and for whatever reason, the two of them always seemed to grate on each other, at least from what Pendr had observed. A spat now, between them, would only complicate matters.

  Halima intervened before Pendr could. “Based on what Pendr told us about your experiences over the last few days, without the help of the myelur you’d most likely be dead, young man. You were shot with arrows, were you not?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “But, here you are, a short time later, and you show no ill effects from the wounds,” Halima pointed out.

  “I … I don’t remember much after Pendr pulled me from the battlefield until the following morning,” Rilam said. “I can’t say what happened.”

  Pendr made the connection. “I remember. Eladrel treated your wounds. Your recovery was miraculous.”

  Everyone around the cooking fire turned their attention to Eladrel. He kept his shoulders squared, though his gaze remained on the fire.

  “Eladrel, did you use the myelur to heal Rilam?” Halima asked.

  “That’s a safe guess,” he said.

  For the first time since Pendr had met Halima, he thought he saw her tense up.

  “This next question is very important,” Halima said. “How did you heal him?”

  Only the sound of the snapping and hissing of the fire filled the air after the question. Danla’s hands gripped her brown skirt hard enough to make her fingers turn white. Though Pendr did not know why, much depended on Eladrel’s answer.

  “My mother is a healer,” Eladrel said. “She taught me. She showed me how to tap into my inner power to heal—to let it flow from me to the person I intended to make whole.”

  Healer? Logs Pond had a healer, but she was unable to do what Eladrel had done to mend Rilam’s wounds.

  Halima visibly relaxed upon hearing Eladrel’s words. “Were you able to rest enough after the healing?” she asked.

  Eladrel shook his head. “I got some rest, yes—as much as possible when being hunted by men who want to kill you.”

  “Oh, you poor dear,” Halima said. “You must have been exhausted.”

  Glancing at Rilam, Eladrel said, “Complaining about it wouldn’t have changed anything. I couldn’t very well take a nap in the middle of a war.”

  “That’s true.” Halima addressed Danla. “Eladrel is the reason you were able to find them. Because you share the same gift, the gemstone was able to guide you to him—like a candle in the darkness.”

  Wait! What? Danla has the gift? The girl Pendr had known his whole life, the girl who was more than a sister to him, she could use this myelur? Why hasn’t she told me?

  “So, this myelur can heal people?” Rilam asked.

  Halima smiled. “That, and much more.”

  Chapter 19

  Wyjec sat down, his back resting against a red maple. Normally he would be able to feel the rough texture of the bark, but with the blue myelur still encasing him, all he could sense was its solidness. He had walked far enough into the forest that he c
ould no longer hear the sounds from Iredell. The people of the town taunted him as he left them behind, each word a dagger to his ears.

  I had it. I had power. And I lost it. When he was a chardi, Wyjec had never known power or respect shown toward him. During his youth, he thought his life could not be more miserable. He was wrong. Having known power, and now no longer having it was worse. Much worse. I didn’t know what I truly had until I lost it.

  Almost an afterthought was the arrow still in his side. The blue myelur still shielded him from the pain, but Wyjec could not continue to walk around with an arrow protruding from his body. Regardless of his next move, the arrow would have to come out.

  Wyjec took in a deep breath, grabbed hold of the arrow’s shaft and pulled. It moved a little, but not enough to be free. He tried again and made a little more progress, but still it remained. I don’t have the strength to pull it out.

  For a drawn-out moment, he simply sat there. The sun’s light had to fight its way through the layering of leaves overhead, creating a greenish aura around the area. Birds and insects chirped away as if they did not have a care in the world. Oh, to be a simple creature. They did not have to worry about betrayal and the pain it caused.

  To his left, Wyjec heard a rustling in the bushes. It was fleeting, stopping almost as soon as it started. With the dimness of the forest to aid him, Wyjec focused his attention on where the sound had emanated. Glimpses of the red myelur shone through the gaps of the foliage.

  Something alive, something big, watched him from just out of sight. Is it a soldier or something else? Wyjec thought of what he knew about the forest. It was not much. With the exception of a few images of his early childhood and the events of the last few days, life in the Master’s palace had been all he had known.

  Wyjec shifted his legs to face whatever it was which remained hidden. A growl, deep and throaty, rumbled from the creature’s concealed area.

  That’s not a vermin! A jolt of fear rushed through Wyjec. Then, to his right, another growl—this one even deeper and more menacing. Only moving his head, Wyjec searched for the source of the other sound. His gaze locked onto the eyes of the beast. Wyjec had not seen its like before.

  It had a large snout, with two large canines visibly protruding from an upper set of teeth. Its fur was black, streaked with gray. But it was the eyes, the golden eyes, which were the most intimidating. They displayed a sharpness not found in simpler creatures, like vermin. Wolf. It has to be.

  Wyjec had heard of the wolves who lived in the forests. They were to be feared, of that he was sure. The second wolf, the one Wyjec faced, moved forward, revealing its presence. It appeared to be younger. Smaller, certainly, as well as more brown in color.

  They can’t hurt me. I still wield the blue myelur. Neither of the wolves knew that, Wyjec realized, as they lunged toward him.

  The smaller wolf crashed into Wyjec’s left side. The blow snapped the arrow, leaving the head still inside Wyjec’s body. The bigger wolf attempted to clamp its jaws on Wyjec’s right arm, and surprise appeared in the wolf’s eyes as its teeth failed to tear into flesh.

  “Enough!” Wyjec shouted. Sensing the larger wolf’s red myelur, and the amber glow which accompanied it, he pushed with his mind to redirect its will toward the smaller wolf.

  Immediately, the older and stronger wolf attacked its companion. It leaped at the younger wolf’s throat and snapped its teeth into the soft gullet. Blood sprayed across the ground, along with the surprised whimper of the soon-to-be-dead wolf. A twist and a push from the larger wolf whipped the dying animal to land on top of one of Wyjec’s legs. The yellow myelur flared, but Wyjec could not focus on it.

  Wyjec’s heart beat faster in his chest as he pushed with the red myelur, forcing the dominant wolf to focus its attention upwards—causing the beast to leap skyward again and again. Setting his hand down on the ground to move away from the wolves’ battle, Wyjec encountered something odd. Wetness met his fingertips, and a quick glance revealed the dampness was red—blood red—and it was not from the wolves.

  Blood pumped out of Wyjec’s side where the arrow had snapped off. Energy began to drain from Wyjec along with the life fluid. Holding on to both the red and the blue myelur was becoming too much. Quickly weighing his options, Wyjec decided to release the blue myelur, rationalizing that as long as he controlled the red, he could keep the wolves off of him.

  Dropping the shielding caused a different problem, however, as Wyjec soon understood. Without the protection came the pain of the wound in his side. Lances of agony raced through Wyjec’s body, causing his sight to dim. Panic once again invaded when he realized that if he were to lose consciousness, he would lose control of the red myelur, and therefore, nothing would stop the larger wolf from turning on him.

  There! Piercing the haze of his fading vision, Wyjec saw it: the yellow thread between him and the nearly dead wolf which still lay on his legs. Remembering the vermin he fought in the castle, Wyjec mentally pulled on the yellow thread as hard as he could.

  Instant relief from the pain in his side was the first sensation. And there was something more. Energy flowed along the thread from the injured wolf to Wyjec, healing him and restoring his strength. Most curious of all was the feeling in his side. From the wound, Wyjec could see the head of the arrow being expelled from his body, until it finally was cleared and plopped to the ground. The restoration power of the yellow myelur also countered any pain he should have been feeling.

  Before Wyjec felt completely whole, the yellow thread snapped. He reached for it again, but it was no longer there. At the same moment, he realized that the red myelur no longer flowed in the wolf on his legs. It’s dead. That must be why I can’t pull any more energy from it.

  For a moment, Wyjec became distracted as he considered the implications of what the yellow myelur truly did. His control of the larger wolf ceased, and it turned its attention back toward Wyjec. Fangs bared, it moved to attack.

  Almost instinctively, Wyjec located the beast’s red myelur and seized the amber glow. Instead of redirecting it toward any particular object, he pushed it toward the wolf’s own heart. That action meant loyalty, at least as far as Wyjec could understand.

  At once, the wolf calmed. Instead of pressing the attack against Wyjec, it instead stepped back. Slowly, it lowered its head and grabbed hold of the dead wolf’s tail and pulled the corpse off Wyjec’s legs. Once completed, the wolf sat at Wyjec’s feet not quite touching him, ears relaxed, and head resting on the ground.

  From Wyjec’s perception, the wolf was showing respect. The amount of effort to hold the wolf in check was minimal, barely causing Wyjec’s heart to beat faster than normal. A moment of inspiration hit. Men are too stubborn, too unpredictable to control. But not simpler creatures, like wolves.

  Wyjec now knew what his next move would be.

  Chapter 20

  Pendr’s head still swam in questions about Danla’s ability to use the myelur. She was right; he did not like the idea based on his initial judgment. But Eladrel also had the power, and without it, Rilam would most likely be dead. I shouldn’t rush to judgment.

  The three young men and the dozen young women let Halima’s last declaration sink in before any of them spoke. “The myelur can do more than heal,” she had said.

  No one had spoken after her statement. The sun shone brightly in the sky, reminding Pendr how long he been without feeling safe. Also, being awake most of the night, and then eating a large mid-day meal was making Pendr drowsy. Sleeping during the hottest time of the day always hurt Pendr more than it helped, but he was not sure how much more he could take. Despite his uneasy feelings on the matter, Pendr wanted to know more about the myelur.

  “Can it act as protection?” Rilam asked, seeming as anxious to know as Pendr. “The myelur, that is?”

  Halima smiled and nodded. “Yes, it can.”

  Rilam then turned to Pendr and looked him up and down. Avoiding eye contact with his friend, Pendr asked, “How? How can i
t protect?”

  “First, you must understand the basics of the myelur,” Halima said. “The easiest way to do so is to relate it to something you can understand.” The elderly lady pointed to the sky. “What color is that?”

  “Blue,” Rilam said.

  Next, Halima waved to the trees around her. “And the color of the leaves on the trees?”

  “Green,” Pendr said, speaking before Rilam could make a comment which could come across as disrespectful.

  “And the embers of the fire?” Halima asked.

  “Red,” Rilam and Pendr said at the same time.

  Halima nodded. “Just as each of these colors is different, so is it with the distinct aspects of the myelur. Point of fact, those who can wield one of these traits often tell that the power they sense has an aura of one of those colors. Each of these has an ancient name, which in truth, are hard to pronounce, so instead, they are referred to as a color.”

  So far, Pendr was following. He imagined the myelur was like a sword. The weapon consisted of a blade, a guard, a grip, and a pommel—each unique—but part of a greater whole.

  “Is it only those three?” Rilam asked.”

  Once again, Halima tensed. “No … there is also one which is known as yellow, though that is dangerous and not to be used.”

  “Why?” Rilam pressed.

  “You are not ready to understand that yet,” Halima said. “Even if I were to tell you now, it would not make sense.”

  Rilam rubbed his temples. “So far, not much of this is making sense.”

  The statement was odd to Pendr. No, he did not know much of the myelur, but neither was he lost.

  “Keep listening, Rilam,” Danla said. “It takes some time.”

  Rilam responded by folding his arms and leaning back, away from the fire.

  “As I stated,” Halima continued, “the myelur can be broken down into red, blue, and green. Green is the aspect which allows healing in the proper way. A person who can wield the green shares some of their life force with an injured person. Those who perform this often describe it as seeing a thread between them and the person who is receiving the help.”