CHAPTER 3
“Look, Katherine! Humans! I can’t believe we’re seeing humans!”
Twilight, whose silver and black streaked hair blended well in his chickadee form, fluttered and chirped in delight as the two Healers landed on a rooftop. Amethyst eyes peered excitedly below to the busy streets of Lexington. It was a story made real, and the ones they would tell upon their return would make it all the better.
Shifting into an auburn weasel to better grip the slick roof panels, Katherine watched with less enthusiasm. Her gaze carefully scrutinized Lexington’s setup, from the stonewall surrounding the perimeters, to the buildings packed tightly together along the main street and maze of sunless alleyways beyond. Groups of people hustling below seemed far too busy for interaction, something Twilight was less than willing to take into account.
Twilight, hush! Her thoughts cautioned. You’ll draw their attention. Besides, we’re looking for Shy. And keep an eye out for Jangus, will you? Doubt he’d be any happier to find us here.
Twilight puffed up his chest feathers. I still don’t get why Chronicles sent Jangus in the first place. Wasn’t Shy supposed to locate all human territories? Why send another?
Most likely to spy. Katherine ran her forepaws over her nose to straighten out her whiskers, then skittered up the roof to better peer down the other side.
Merchants had set up stands along the street. She could see how people exchanged coins for goods. Now and then an occasional hand-swipe took something without leaving one of the shiny pieces. Fascinated, she continued watching until one of the merchants shouted something, and the individual took off running.
Did you see that? Her question brought Twilight to her side to peer down as well. I think he took something.
“Should we get it back?” Twilight chirped. He eyed the crowd for the one Katherine mentioned, but by then the thief had darted down one of the alleys.
I’d rather not get involved. And we don’t know exactly where Jangus went. She sniffed the air, nostrils flaring to catch the faintest scent of Healer. But he’s here. Somewhere.
“Stop, thief!” echoed to Twilight’s perch as he picked out a youth weaving through the crowd.
We have the advantage from here! Twilight lifted into flight. They can’t see him like we can!
“No, wait!” Katherine squeaked, but the chickadee had already dived toward the street.
From above, the small bird easily followed the thief’s movements. He was good, leaping over carts, swinging under awnings. He pushed past several groups of people, avoiding what Twilight assumed were town guards dressed in black, with long swords at their sides. At a summon, they settled in a pursuit of perfect unison.
For a moment, Twilight thought they had him. Yet a quick toss continued the chase with someone else.
Bet I can catch you! Twilight followed as the thief swung around a pole to quick-round a corner. From there, the bird paused in front of a dark alley. Even from above, lack of sunlight made the narrow gap between buildings hard to see.
He turned his head to better tune in the quick rap of footfalls along cobblestone. Using sound as a guide, Twilight sailed into the dark. Trails of light confirmed a sudden turn. He barely missed a broken gutter jutting from one side. Another turn, and echoing footsteps grew louder. A quick shift into a hawk cast a flash of green light before thief and bird collided in a sudden thrash of talons and wild flinging.
Twilight pumped his wings hard, grasping something in his claws as he pulled away. In the clutter of confusion, the thief fell back on the ground in stunned silence after releasing the prize. It was not until Twilight shifted to his true form did the thief come to his senses. Scrambling to his feet, he took off running, with Twilight laughing in triumph as he held the stolen object aloft.
“You should have seen it!” He called to a dove that landed overhead. “Look! I got it!”
“Good!” Katherine cooed. “Now get up here! Just leave it; the guards are coming for it anyway.”
“What? That doesn’t make sense.” Twilight started toward the street, using the sounds of heavy traffic to guide him from the alley. “I should return this the proper way.”
I don’t think that’s a good idea. They didn’t exactly see who took it in the first place. They might think you’re the thief.
Twilight laughed as he stepped from the alley back into sunlight. “A thief doesn’t return items.”
“Halt right there!” and Twilight froze. A twitch of pointed ear confirmed a sudden motion. With instincts of a cat, the young Healer moved to avoid a hand-grab.
“You shouldn’t do that.” He stared up at the tall men in black. “I could’ve hurt you.”
The men just burst into laughter. “You? Yeah, right. Hand it over, boy!”
Twilight’s eyes narrowed. “That’s no way to talk to a Healer.”
“Just give it to them!” Katherine’s dove calls could be heard. “They don’t know what we are!”
“Something wrong with your ears, boy? I said hand it over!”
“Twilight!”
“I’m giving it to them, already!” Twilight rolled his eyes and held out the object when one of the guards grabbed hold of his wrist. “Hey!”
“Hold it. Somethin’ ain’t right here.” He grabbed a handful of hair and yanked it back from around the boy’s ear. “What the..?”
A throaty growl was the one warning Twilight gave before a burst of power slung the guards back. It was a mere deterrent that only befuddled the men. The grip upon his wrist however, had not loosened. Instead, the firm hold only twisted it. There came a quick snap before Twilight yelped in pain.
His free hand dug into the man’s flesh, instantly drawing blood. That helped, but the sudden release threw him off balance. A quick escape turned into a thud on his rump. Before he knew it, the men had regrouped around him.
In a panic, Katherine swooped down and positioned herself between the men in her true form. Eyes flashed in warning of building power with strawberry hair trailing off her shoulders.
“Magic-users!” one of the men rasped.
“He was just trying to return your stolen property,” Katherine said with a hint of authority in her voice. “You have it now. Take it and leave him be.”
“I despise your swindling kind!” The one that had broken Twilight’s wrist drew his sword. “I think the lot of ya needs to be wiped out!”
Katherine braced herself for the man to charge when a growl from the alley held her back. As the man charged, a black blur flew out and bit into his arm. With a twist, the sword dropped in a clatter against cobblestone street.
A black wolf then retreated with a snarl. “Run!”
Katherine pulled Twilight up. “Jow’us, semp’kin!” The few vines she had seen in the opening between buildings immediately sprang to her aid. One lashed out to trip the guards. As the two Healers hurried into unlit backstreet, remaining vines closed over the entrance to deny access. After a moment of running in the dark, the two paused to catch their breaths.
Twilight tenderly held his wrist.
“You had to interact, didn’t you!” Katherine scolded in between heavy breaths. “Twilight…” A few stray rays of sunlight washed over his pain-filled face, so she shut her month. As if Jangus isn’t enough problem already. The thought, however, was kept to herself as Twilight tenderly held his wrist.
“It really hurts.”
“Well, isn’t this lovely?” a gruff voice announced from the shadows.
Katherine studied the cloaked figure that emerged. The smell of wolf was strong
“Wait. Aren’t you..?”
“Delexi,” was the reply. Yellow eyes peered beneath a velvet cowl. “Chronicles gave me a temporary shift. I saw you leave the valley, so I followed. Good thing. You pups don’t belong in human territory.”
“Neither does Jangus,” Katherine said. “Chronicles sent him after he sent his son. We only came because we think he’s up to something.”
Twilight grow
led. “Correction. You think he’s up to something.”
Katherine just rolled her eyes. “Hey, I didn’t make you come!”
“Enough! Let me see that.” Delexi silenced their arguments by examining Twilight’s wrist. “It’s broken.”
“I can’t shift like this!” Twilight flinched from the touch and pulled back, cradling it against his chest. “What if those humans come after us again?”
“Back here? Unlikely.” Delexi let his human form slip back into wolf by lowering himself to all fours. Lifting a hind foot, he scratched behind one ear. “Nothing you can do now except wait it out.”
“Ugh!” Twilight moaned. “That may not happen ‘til nightfall!”
“Better start looking for patches of green,” Delexi offered with a snort.
Katherine just sighed. “Come on, then. I’ll help you. No use getting angry about it.” She turned to the wolf. “You don’t have to stay. We can deal with it.”
“I’m sure you can.” The wolf made himself comfortable near the side of a building and laid his head across his forelegs. “Pups.”
*****
Abraham let out a long, slow breath. The tapping of rain against windowsill was almost hypnotizing, having adjusted to the routine of unabating thunderstorms.
Only a few weeks had passed since his arrival in the Realm of Sapphire. His one desire to learn magic from a father he had not seen since childhood had turned into a hunt to understand what the man had become – a dupe. He never knew when the dark horn’s devious nature would take control of his father, though it was clear when it was changing over. The young man cringed at the memory. A crimson flame lit his father’s dark eyes whenever the horn was present. Red – the mark of deceit. It was discernible upon his father’s breast, a crimson stone that dangled innocently from a gold chain. Yet it was that piece of horn inside the stone that Abraham had come to loathe.
Long into the night did he study the many books written by his father. Each page revealed a new experience because of the horn, because he had created it, manipulated it, and ultimately…destroyed it.
Abraham rubbed his curling goatee in thought. He glanced to the window. The rain was to the point of stopping, and marked a change to the time of day. Yet, whether day or night, everything looked the same from his bedroom window. Black clouds extended as far as he could see. A tip of spiked roofing hinted a tower room below his own. He remembered seeing several upon first arriving. The building itself was set in a style that resembled a great cathedral. He recalled the moment his eyes laid upon the massive, circular stained-glass window and triangular shaped designs just above the entrance. The look seemed to produce a frown, and matched his own at the moment as a streak of lightning cut through the clouds.
Too dangerous to go out, even if I wanted to. He put the book he had been reading on a nearby table. If it was not the storm that kept him in, it was the belief that Black Wings, among other things, wandered the darkness. I doubt illusion would do any good against an attack.
Illusion. It was the reason he came. Although his father also claimed title as Master Illusionist, illusion itself never lasted, while the effects of magic could last a lifetime.
And you cheated just to get that. Abraham rose from his seat and stretched. The thought of Black Wings reminded him of the one Jenario kept under a sleep charm, hidden away in one of the tower rooms. By chance, Abraham had discovered a secret paneling that led to the harpy’s chamber from the hallway. Convenient, yet at the same time he never knew when his father might appear…or the horn, for that matter.
Abraham slipped out into the hallway. He donned the traditional robe that marked most magic-users, even if he was not one himself. The look had put him above commoners that frequented Lexington when he had lived there, though he still held out hope for the day that he too could wield magic.
He started down the dimly lit interior. Several unused torches sat with cobwebs fanning out under their holders. At an attempt to remove one, the rusty holder gave a groan until its waxy cylinder slid out. Holding the candle against another, he tried to pass its flame to the tip of wick vaguely protruding on another. Flames flickered low, threatening to give out until he finally abandoned the task. The old candle just refused to cooperate. After stuffing it back in its holder, Abraham lifted a hand and concentrated. An illusionary orb of light shuttered into view. The form wavered as he centered all attention on strengthening the glow until a yellowish tint finally spread over stone wall.
Least illusion’s good for something around here! He let his fingers trail over the side paneling until he felt a dip. The flawed surface marked the secret entrance to one of the tower rooms – the location of the sleeping Black Wing. I’ll check on him again soon.
Abraham scoped out the remaining length of hallway by sending the orb ahead of him. It darted to the left, then right, as he searched for signs of Jenario’s portals. The thought of accidentally stepping through one still tingled his skin. The portals clung to his clothing like heavy morning dew and smothered what breath he could not hold. Although they had their conveniences, seeing one only suggested the likely appearance of his father.
At the end of the hall, he descended several flights of stairs to reach the level where Jenario kept a library. Here, enough torches had been left in use to douse his created light source.
The library door was slightly open as he reached for it. His hand had barely touched the handle when he paused and sniffed at the stench wafting from the room. It was unmistakable, and indicated the only other being besides his father who lived in the castle.
Abraham’s hand was still on the handle when the door opened inward. Stunned, the young man remained in the doorway as a figure stepped foward.
“Nathaniel,” Abraham greeted dryly. Accustomed to seeing the assassin laden with multiple pouches, strap-on daggers and other items, the lack of these set a confused look. It was not until the man took a step back that Abraham realized why.
Not comprehending the need to move his back leg for balance, the man came crashing down. An obtrusive beer-belly stuck well above the rest of his body once it stopped jiggling. The bulge of belly pulled a sweat-stained shirt from his pants to reveal a slicked growth of black hair centered from belly to groin.
“You don’t even know where your things are, do you?” Too repulsed to help him up, Abraham just stared at the drunken man. A yellow film covered the whites of his eyes, the result of consecutive alcohol consumption. Abraham doubted the assassin could even comprehend his words, and walked around the stinking body to a bookshelf.
Jenario’s collection of notebooks, reference materials, and maps scattered the many shelves in between other collected items. A small harpy statue acted as bookend to multiple guides of No’va’s Foundation, of which Abraham had read many times. He bypassed the creature section, skimmed over landmark guides, then stopped when his eye caught the word Formulas written on a spine.
The dusty brown book had seen better days as it lay on its side. Carefully, he picked it up and thumbed through a few dog-eared pages.
“I don’t recall seeing this before,” he said over the groans coming from behind. While his eyes trailed over his father’s handwriting, he came to a results page for attempted spell casting that dated long before the introduction to the horn’s power. The turn of page revealed a wide variety of formulaic spells, their general properties, required materials to complete the spell, and pronunciation.
The young man laughed when he came across one to turn a drunken man sober, and noted the multiple trials on the page using Nathaniel as target practice. There had been no success.
“I suppose the horn could just turn you sober if it needed something.”
He glanced between assassin and spell, and a slight smile spread across his face. Taking the book with him, he stepped over to the sprawled man. A gurgling snore erupted between frothed lips as Abraham shook his head and attempted to pronounce the spell as written.
“D’loj, dee-lodge, um… How �
��bout Dill-looj!” He tried waving a hand over the body, made signs in the air, even pranced around the figure until he about laughed himself breathless at the silly way he probably looked. ”Dee-looj, Daye-laidge! Ah, forget it!” He paid no attention to the lessening snores and put the book back where he had found it. “You’re a sorry mess, Nathaniel!” With a chuckle, he left the room.
*****
A firm kick to Nathaniel’s side jerked him awake. Yellow-rimmed eyes darted about to discern his uncanny whereabouts when they at last focused on a bearded figure staring down at him.
“Congratulations.” It lacked emotion, as Jenario usually sounded when amused. “You’re sober.”
Nathaniel heard the faint rustle of sable robes brush against the floor when he moved aside. The assassin needed room, his massive beer-belly tumbling upon itself as he rolled over and pulled himself up. He ran a hand through his mess of tangled curls before tucking his shirt back in.
He checked Jenario’s position. The crimson stone gently swung a moment when the mage turned, then stilled itself with a slow, pulsing glow.
“You must have a job,” Nathaniel’s voice cracked. He coughed, cleared his throat, then checked himself for all the usual weapons. Finding none, he stared blankly down at the floor to recall his last placement of them.
“They’re in your room, if you must know,” Jenario said. “As for the job,” he stepped around his unkempt companion, “seems someone else has taken that liberty.”
“What? Killing?”
Nathaniel waited until Jenario had stepped back into his line of vision, then wished he still stared at the floor. The mage’s eyes took on a fiery appearance, the sign of horn making an entry. When he spoke, his voice was no longer his own.
“For one whose skills could’ve risen above the norm of human kind, you’ve proven to be a waste of time!” The horn’s raspy tone reflected a being whose years of warped wisdom came in spurts of both inspiration and despondency. ”You’re only this way because of magic, and that someone isn’t Jenario this time.”
Healer Page 4
