by James Wisher
“Stop.” Alana spoke in a harsh whisper. Thank the Light. Col leaned against a tree and tried to catch his breath. A couple of rangers slumped to the ground where they stood. “They’re half a mile ahead and they’ve stopped moving.”
“Finally. Everyone look sharp. We’ll hit them hard and be on our way home before dawn.” Manes looked like he wanted to drag the men to their feet with his own hands when they didn’t jump up.
“Enough, lieutenant.” Alana sat with her back against a tree. “I barely have enough energy to maintain the spell that lets you see in the dark and your men are asleep on their feet. If we attack now we all die and they escape with the box. We need a few hours’ sleep at least, enough for my powers to recover.”
“They’ve been running as long as we have,” Col said. “Even beastmen need to sleep. They’re probably bedding down for the rest of the night too.”
Manes let out an inarticulate growl that turned into a sigh. “Fine, but we move at first light.”
Col slid down the trunk of his tree and dug a strip of jerky out of his pack. He’d only eaten half of it before he fell asleep.
It seemed he’d just closed his eyes when someone shook him awake. He groaned and sat up. All around him rangers either ate breakfast or checked their weapons. Alana sat cross-legged off by herself surrounded by a glowing aura. While he watched she stood up and shook like a wet cat. The glow faded and he judged it safe to approach.
“Did you regain your strength?”
She nodded. “A little sleep does wonders. Before you ask, they moved out half an hour ago at a much more reasonable pace than yesterday.”
“They think they’re safe, like they’ve moved far enough not to have to worry about pursuit. That might work to our advantage.”
“My thoughts exactly.” Manes moved to join them. He looked a bit less grim than the night before. “We need to move. Which way?”
Alana pointed west and a little north, almost the exact course they took the day before. Col didn’t know where the brutes were headed, but no human had ever gone this deep into the mountains and returned to tell about it, at least not that he’d ever heard of.
“We should try to get ahead of them and set an ambush,” Col said.
Manes shook his head. “We don’t know the territory well enough. We’ll hit them from behind. The surprise should be enough to tilt the battle in our favor. When the fighting starts you look after Alana.”
His plan seemed far too optimistic, but Col was just a guide; he had no authority to command these men. They set out, Col and Alana in the center of the formation, two men ranging ahead to locate their prey.
An hour later one of the scouts returned. Manes trotted up to him and the rest of the group joined them a moment later. “Did you find them?” Manes asked.
“Yes, sir, twenty of them, all but one saberfangs. The last one is a big boarman carrying a long pole with a birdcage on the end. The box is inside the cage.”
Alana perked up. “How terribly clever. That contraption allows them to move the box without Zarrin having to do it himself.”
“Twenty of them?” Manes shook his head. “That can’t be. From the tracks I figured half a dozen.”
“They must have met up with another group during the night,” Col said. Maybe now Manes would see the wisdom of finding somewhere to set up an ambush.
The scout must have had the same idea. “Judging from their bearing I think they’re headed for a narrow pass a mile ahead. If we hurry we can swing around them and set up an ambush.”
“And if you’re wrong they’ll turn off and we’ll lose them,” Manes said. He seemed hell bent on attacking the monsters head on.
“We won’t lose them,” Alana said. “If they change direction I’ll know and we can resume our pursuit.”
Manes’s face twisted like he’d swallowed something bitter. “Very well. Lead the way, ranger.”
* * *
Col crouched beside Alana behind a large boulder. The rest of the rangers had spread out along the slope above the trail. They had their bows out and arrows ready. Beside him Alana shivered.
“Are you cold?”
She shook her head. “Beyond this pass lies something Dark, powerful. I can’t tell what, but I’m certain the beastmen are headed toward it.”
“Is it Zarrin?” Col devoutly hoped the darkcaster was a long way away.
“It doesn’t seem aware, like the undead would. It’s more like a place of darkness. Something evil happened there and it left an imprint.”
“As long as it stays where it is—”
Alana gripped his wrist, cutting him off mid sentence. “They’re coming.”
Col peeked out around the boulder. Below them a line of saberfangs advanced down the pass. In the center of the line walked the biggest boarman Col had ever seen. It had to stand over eight feet tall and its forearms looked bigger than Col’s thighs. It carried the pole bearing the soul box over its shoulder like a kid on his way to a fishing hole. He held his breath as they passed by, wishing he had a bow.
As if reading his mind, the rangers popped up and loosed their arrows as fast as they could. Six saberfangs went down in the initial volley, but to the saberfangs’ credit the rangers only got off two volleys before they charged up the slope to engage the archers. Two of the monsters remained behind to protect the boarman and his cargo.
When the bulk of the saberfangs had gotten a good distance away from the box, Alana stood up and fired two beams of white energy at the remaining beastmen. An instant before they would have struck the saberfangs in the chest the beams veered toward the soul box and the dark runes absorbed them. The saberfangs sprinted toward them in hopes of reaching Alana before she got off another blast.
That proved to be a poor strategy, as without the soul box’s protection Alana’s next two blasts burned through one monster’s chest and seared the flesh off the second’s left arm. The saberfang screamed in pain and before it could recover Col ran it through. A quick glance revealed that the rangers were holding their own against the saberfangs. When Col turned his attention to the boarman he found the ugly brute staring right back at him.
Alana moved to stand beside him. “I’m afraid I won’t be much help against that one. The runes of the soul box disrupt my magic.”
“I noticed.” Col scratched his chin. “He sure is a big one.”
“Do you think you can beat him?”
“Don’t have much choice, do I?”
Col worked his way down the slope, taking his time as he tried to think of a good strategy. For its part the boarman seemed content to wait for him. The instant he reached the flat part of the pass Col charged, hoping to surprise the brute and get in a killing blow.
It reacted faster than he expected. The pole with the soul box dangling from it came whistling at his head. Col dove under it. As the soul box passed over his head it tugged at him, making his chest tighten and his breath catch in his throat. It hadn’t even got that close.
“Col!” Alana shouted from where she stood on the slope. “Don’t let the cage hit you.”
That was exactly the sort of brilliant tactical advice he needed. If he lived through the next few minutes he’d be sure to thank her. The boarman spun a full circle and faced him again. The only chance he had was to get inside his reach so he couldn’t get hit with the soul box. How to go about that was the question.
The boarman swung the cage at him again; it must have gotten tired of waiting. Col leapt forward and grabbed the pole with his free hand. The force of the monster’s swing lifted him off the ground and sent him flying in a circle. When he stopped Col gathered his feet under him and sprang at his opponent, sword leading.
The pole slammed into his side and sent him sprawling before he could reach the boarman on the other end. Col rolled onto his back in time to see a cloven hoof descending toward his head. He rolled to the side and managed a weak riposte, cutting a shallow gash in his opponent’s calf.
Col scrambled
to his feet. If the shallow cut inconvenienced the giant monster it gave no sign. In his mad scramble Col had moved far enough away that he had to worry about the cage again. Col glanced around and spotted a couple of egg-sized rocks. He picked them up and grinned. Hopefully this boarman was as stupid as the rest of his kind.
He whipped the first rock at it and struck the boarman right between the eyes. It shook its head and grunted.
“That hurt, dummy? Have another.” He pegged it with another rock, this time in the mouth.
The boarman roared and spit out a tooth. Col danced back and hefted another rock. “Come on, stupid, don’t just stand there.”
The third rock hit it in the snout. A little trickle of blood ran from one nostril. The enraged boarman stomped its hooves, tossed the pole aside, and charged. Col dodged an instant before it reached him and slashed a deep gash in its back. The brute roared, more enraged than ever. It skidded to a stop and spun to face him, just in time to take a blast of white energy that blew its head to bits.
A few more beams shot out, finishing the few surviving saberfangs. Silence fell in the pass and the survivors gathered around the soul box. “Is everyone okay?” Col asked.
“I lost three men,” Manes said. He was bleeding from a shallow cut along his ribs.
“I’m sorry.”
Manes shook his head. “We accomplished the mission, that’s what counts.”
“Half the mission.” Alana was crouched beside the soul box, her hand poised above it, surrounded by the now-familiar glow. “We still need to get it home.”
Manes stared at her for a moment. “I thought after we got the box you were going to portal us home.”
“So did I, but now that I’ve examined the box it’s clear that won’t be an option. Its Dark aura suppresses any magic close to it, Light or Dark.”
“What about the protective runes?” Col asked.
“He put them in place before the soul box received its primary enchantment, then Zarrin tied them together to make the protective runes more potent. It’s a brilliant bit of magic. It’s clear that Zarrin’s abilities weren’t exaggerated in the least.”
“So what do we do?” Col asked.
They all looked at Manes, who scowled. “There’s only one thing to do: walk. Col, you’re in charge of the box.”
Col picked up the pole and grunted. It was all there and then some. It must weigh forty pounds. He slung it over his shoulder and turned around in time to watch Alana heal the gash on Manes’s side. First the wound scabbed over then over the course of perhaps five seconds it faded to nothing.
Before Manes could give the order to move out a chill ran up Col’s spine. A hundred yards deeper into the pass a black disk appeared and a second later wolfmen poured out of it.
* * *
Zarrin flexed the fingers of his new body and found his control flawless. Satisfied with his physical control he reached for the Dark and conjured black flames that dripped from his fingertips before vanishing a foot from the floor. He relished the sensation for a few seconds then let the power fade. He had regained full control of his powers as well. The weeks of preparation had paid off. Once more he stood at the pinnacle of his power.
With a thought and wave of his hand Zarrin conjured a viewing sphere through which he watched his saberfangs approaching the pass that led to his secondary hiding place. With his soul box hidden once more he’d be free to resume his important work. Zarrin could hardly fathom the idea that someone had located his first hiding place. The illusion he placed over it should have concealed it from anyone save a powerful caster actively looking for it. That’s why he chose that cave in the first place; no one would ever think to look for something as precious as his soul box in an unguarded cave in the hills above a beastman village. When the alarm rang in his mind it had so shocked him he almost ruined a ritual he’d spent a week preparing.
Well, even insects got lucky once in a while. As Zarrin watched through the sphere men rose up from behind boulders and rained arrows down on his beastmen. A lightcaster hurled destructive blasts, and a familiar, hated boy fought the boarman that carried his soul box. In short order his beastmen lay dead and his soul box was in the hands of his enemies. Worse still the soul box’s own energy would protect his enemies from Zarrin’s magic.
He had no choice; he’d have to rely on his beastmen to recover the box. He opened a portal and stepped through into the courtyard of Finegold Castle. A pack of wolfmen lolled in the shade of the wall gnawing on leg bones. A blast of power, not enough to kill just enough to get their attention, sent the wolfmen flying in several directions. When they’d scrambled to their feet the stupid creatures rushed over to kneel at his feet. Zarrin opened a portal to the pass and sent them a mental image of what he wanted. Howling, the wolfmen raced through the portal.
He closed the portal and conjured another viewing globe. With a lightcaster to aid them he knew the vermin would defeat the pack he sent, but if his minions killed one or two of his enemies it would be worth it. He’d throw however many beastmen required at them to retrieve his soul box.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Wolfmen poured through the portal. Again. The survivors of Col’s team dreaded the black disks’ appearances. They’d lost two more rangers in the previous three battles and now a fresh batch of monsters had appeared to harass them.
Col swung the cage at the nearest wolfman and struck it a glancing blow to the shoulder. When the cage made contact the box bounced up against the wolfman’s body and that was all it took. Dark energy flashed and the wolfman disintegrated.
Col grinned; the soul box had become their best weapon. His arms ached from swinging it, but even a graze was enough to kill an enemy.
The instant loss of one of their comrades balked the remaining wolfmen for a moment and the rangers didn’t waste the distraction. They fell on the eight survivors and slaughtered them in short order.
Manes gasped for breath. “There’s no end to them. We can barely manage half a mile before we have to turn and fight again. If this keeps up we’ll never make it back.”
“If it’s any consolation, lieutenant, there is an end to them. I estimate ten thousand beastmen in Corinthia. Once we’ve dealt with them we’ll be home free.”
The rangers laughed and Manes turned a jaundiced eye on Col. “You have a sick sense of humor.”
Col shrugged. “Too much time spent hanging around with soldiers. We should get a move on or we won’t manage our half-mile before the next attack.”
The little group trudged on. Manes turned to Alana. “Can’t you hide us?”
“Sorry,” Alana said. “The soul box contains a tiny fragment of Zarrin’s soul. Combine that with the magic-disrupting effect and I don’t see how I’d manage it.”
“If they can keep sending in beastmen why can’t we get reinforcements?” Col asked.
“The lightcasters would need a focus so they’d know where to open the portals,” Alana said.
Col dug the little orb out of his pocket and held it up. “Like this?”
Alana’s eyes widened. “Exactly like that. Where did you get it?”
“The queen gave it to me so I could keep them up to date on my recruitment efforts.” Col imagined Tahlia liked knowing he was safe, but he didn’t think he should mention that. “Should I send a request for help?”
“Yes!” everyone said at once.
Col moved a little ways from the soul box and concentrated. “We’re unable to escape by portal and require reinforcements. We are under attack by waves of beastmen, and we’ll be overwhelmed without help.”
The glow vanished when he finished sending his message. Col hoped Tahlia was close to her casting chamber. He didn’t know how many more attacks they’d survive.
Col took point and Manes replaced him as bearer of the soul box. They traveled at opposite ends of the column so Col would remain outside the box’s magic-disrupting area. They trudged through the woods for an hour without another attack, Col assumed
because Zarrin had run out of beastmen in his immediate vicinity. The orb glowed and Col touched it.
“Help is on the way,” Tahlia said. “Stay where you are.”
“Hold up everyone,” Col said. “Help’s on the way.”
Two minutes later a golden disk shimmered to life a few feet from Col. Twenty soldiers in heavy mail and armed with sword and shields marched through. The portal flickered and vanished after the last man exited. Manes approached, being careful to keep the cage well away from everyone.
The first man through the portal met him halfway. “Lieutenant Manes? I’m Corporal Howser. We’re here to escort you home.”
* * *
Rain sat in the practice room and focused on the familiar and now-hated tingle and tried to force it down to her hands. She gave it all she had and soon a blazing headache pounded at her temples. She sighed and stopped for a moment. It didn’t seem to matter what she did, the power wouldn’t move.
She frowned and remembered what Col said about muscling it. He admitted he knew nothing about magic, but so far listening to the people that did know hadn’t gotten her anywhere. What would it hurt if she tried doing it his way? Rain relaxed and imagined the power like a river flowing down her neck into her shoulders then down to her hands. Warmth flowed along the path she envisioned. Her eyes popped open and she saw a white glow from the palms of her hands.
“Michael!”
The lightcaster opened his eyes, saw the glow, and gasped. “You did it! Congratulations, Rain. I told you if you pushed hard enough you’d make the power do what you wanted.”
She looked away, a little embarrassed to tell him how she managed it. When she finished explaining what Col told her Michael had a thoughtful frown. “I never really thought about it that way. I told you the way we train lightcasters to channel their power. Since your power is more a birthright than a learned skill I may have had you going about it all wrong. Whatever you’re doing, it’s clearly the best way for you to call on your power. Now that you can bring the energy where you need it we can move on to the next phase of your training.”
