by B. T. Narro
He thought of his mother and father awaiting his return day after day. Eventually, Juliana would lead a search party. It might be a while, but they would come across his body. His mother would weep for days, weeks, maybe even months.
This didn’t bring Basen the strength he needed. He tried to grab the hand pushing against his chest, but Fatholl simply brushed his arm aside as if Basen were as feeble as a fevered man.
If he didn’t figure a way through this spell, he would die. Fear came over him, but it did nothing to stop the spell. He screamed, just wanting the agony to be over.
“It’s buried,” he said, unable to hold the words back any longer.
“Where?”
“Give me the antidote…and I’ll show you.”
“Tell me where first,” Fatholl demanded.
“I can’t…talk…like this.”
“You will! Get the words out.”
The bastard. Basen shut his eyes and put himself back at the Academy. A piece of it lived inside him now, and it was easy to visit even through the pain. He went back to the training grounds for Group One mages, where Effie was smiling at him in welcome.
Behind her, he could see Alabell. She’d been furious he’d left without telling her, but she was so overjoyed at his return, and so gentle by nature, that her anger evaporated. She smiled and…
Basen could feel his strength returning, the pain fading as the image of Alabell became clearer. She was beautiful beyond words, often making his breath catch in his throat whenever he saw her. She was a healer, a bringer of life in a world of death. A rose in a graveyard.
The only time he truly felt at peace was by her side, and peace was what he needed most during this gruesome time of war.
Fatholl yelped as Basen suddenly kicked him in the face and jumped up. He ran toward where he’d last seen Sanya.
The spell of pain never subsided, but it was now at the back of his mind like the endless, annoying barking of a faraway dog. He could feel all the psychics trying to take him down, but he kept his mind strong as he focused on Alabell within the Academy. He put himself there so vividly, he barely noticed the trees in front of him.
His right arm bumped into a branch and a new surge of pain ran up his body. This was not psyche, he noticed, as he looked down at his arm. His skin had turned red around the open wound and had swollen so much his arm looked twice its usual size.
Suddenly remembering he lacked a plan, Basen lost his focus. The Academy slipped from his mind, Alabell gone with it. Pain burned every inch of his body as if he’d been thrown into a fire.
He stumbled for a while as he screamed, somehow maintaining his balance enough to stay up. But then he lost it and fell without feeling himself hit the ground. He strained to look up. Sanya emerged, her staff glowing as she pointed it over Basen. A great fear came over him, as if staring death in the face.
“Get out of the way!” she urged him.
He put his last strength into rolling to the side.
The sight he beheld was one he knew would stay with him for the rest of his life. Her staff glowed and shook as if about to explode. A great whoosh of air came out so violently it threw Basen farther from the path of destruction. As the rushing air came back the other way in a clap, a red sphere as big as the giant they’d faced on top of the mountain tunneled down the forest lane, appearing to bend branches, trunks, and even the ground.
Basen was a good ten yards from it, though that felt far too close as the energy stormed past him. It wasn’t quite pain that he felt as the essence of his being was gently tugged from within his bones, just the utter fear of being sucked out from his body. As in a nightmare, he somehow knew this burning, rippling entity would send him to another world in which he could never return whole again.
Too quick to dodge, it caught two Elves whose eyes rolled back into their heads as their bodies went limp.
All other Elves—even the usually fearless Fatholl—had darted away from Sanya’s line of sight like frightened wild cats.
“You! Don’t move,” Sanya ordered as she walked toward Fatholl. “If any of you try to use psyche on me or come behind me, I will do that again.” She pointed to where the Elves held Vithos. “Release him.”
“Do it,” Fatholl called from behind a tree.
“Give Basen the antidote,” Sanya demanded.
He checked his arm. It felt like air had been trapped within his skin, intense pressure making it difficult to move.
“There is no antidote,” Fatholl said.
Overwhelmed by anger, Basen reached for his sword, only to realize it had been taken. His wand as well. He cursed at Fatholl as he walked toward him. The Elf’s bloody nose wasn’t enough punishment.
“Basen, stop,” Sanya said.
What was he doing? He was about to block her path, and she wouldn’t be able to follow through with her threat without killing Basen as well.
“And no more psyche on him, either,” Sanya told Fatholl.
Basen’s anger—it had been produced by Fatholl. That sneaky bastard.
“You’re a psychic.” Fatholl took a brave step toward Sanya. “Who are you?”
“No one to you.”
“That’s not true. You’re the masked woman who killed two of my Elves. You should be careful about what else you plan to do.”
“I plan to kill you and the rest of your Elves if you take one more step. Or if anyone moves again! I see you!”
The Elves closing in on her stopped.
“When you say there’s no antidote…” Basen’s voice trailed off.
“Because the potion isn’t going to kill you,” Fatholl said. “It was just to scare you. Obviously, you’re too much of a fool for it to work.”
“A fool? You mean for knowing you would kill me even after I gave you the stone?” The lack of surprise on Fatholl’s face told Basen he was right. “It doesn’t matter anymore. We won’t be seeing each other again.”
“Don’t you want to know why you were going to die, Basen?”
“What man wouldn’t?” he asked sarcastically.
“You did not follow our plan. You tried to shoot Yeso when I told you not to do anything but get us there and then help us escape.”
“What did it matter if I shot him with a fireball or you stabbed him in the heart? He’s dead either way.”
Fatholl leaned back and lifted his chin as if greatly offended. “This was a matter between Elves and you never should’ve interfered.”
“Yet that is not the reason you planned to kill me when this was done,” Basen said. “You worry I’ll return. You’re just like Yeso, ready to kill others to protect yourself. That’s what we’re all doing now in this war, yet you’re the only one who refuses to believe it.”
Fatholl gave no reply. He turned to Sanya and announced, “We’re leaving.”
The Elves picked up their dead.
As they carefully walked off into the forest while eyeing Sanya’s weapon, Basen yelled after them, “You don’t have to worry about me returning to Merejic. Enjoy your little piece of Ovira without me, and I’ll enjoy mine without you!”
Fatholl ignored him. Basen desperately needed verification the Elf would leave him alone at the Academy, but it didn’t look like he would get it.
Vithos came to stand beside Basen, each of them facing Sanya. She dropped her weapon and hurried away from it. Once she’d created distance, she coughed for a while, then took a couple of deep breaths. After checking on the Elves one last time to see they were gone, she removed her mask.
Vithos pointed at her face. “I remember you from the castle.” His pointed finger swung to the weapon on the ground, the grass slowly blackening around it. “That was in the room you come from, yes?”
“Yes.”
“What is it?” Basen asked.
“I don’t know what to call it. I didn’t create it, but I am tasked with getting rid of it. I was going to use it on Yeso before removing it from this world, but I could only do that after I found the
akorell metal in the Fjallejon Mountains. I felt you make a portal there a while ago, but I still couldn’t locate it.”
Basen crinkled his brow. “I’ve been wondering how my portals are affecting you.”
“Not at all anymore. In fact, the last one will help me put this back in the spiritual world where it belongs.”
“Back? So it came from there?”
“Yes, long before we were born. Ulric knew about it before coming to the castle—it doesn’t matter,” she interrupted herself.
“You’re right, it doesn’t. What does is why you wanted to kill Yeso and why you helped me.”
“I didn’t just help you. I saved your life,” she corrected.
“But why? I made portals after you threatened me not to. I hope you know, Sanya, that I only did what I needed to do. I didn’t want to harm your mother in any way, and I’m sorry for anything that happened to her.” He was careful not to apologize for perhaps forcing Sanya to kill Nick and Alex, for he could never live with himself if he took that blame. That was on her, and it would stay that way.
She looked surprised by his kind words for her mother. “What happened to her…was not your fault. I was able to keep her together against the damage of your portals, but in the end, I was meddling where I shouldn’t have.”
God’s mercy, she seems like a different person again. This was the Sanya he’d met at the Academy, the human Sanya. Could Vithos tell if she was lying? Basen gave a questioning look to the Elf.
“All truth,” Vithos said.
“You’re not even angry about the portals?” Basen asked Sanya. “I made them before a week was up.”
“I was angry,” she admitted. “But you didn’t make very many. I suppose I figured you only did what you must, as you just confirmed. That’s all I’ve done as well. Only recently have I realized that I didn’t need to do any of it. I chose to.”
Basen checked on his injured arm with a tender touch. The pain had become different, he realized. He’d endured the worst agony possible and had come so close to death. Now pain reminded him he was alive, a glorious feeling he wanted to celebrate.
“Come back to the Academy with me,” he suggested to her. “Let them decide your punishment, and you won’t need to run any longer.”
She shook her head. “I’m not ready.”
“After you get rid of the weapon.”
“No, there’s a list of tasks I need to do.”
He wanted her to answer for her crimes, but he understood there was little reason for her to give up on life yet. If she wouldn’t go with him, then that was that.
“Why would you try to kill Yeso?” he asked, hoping to get a better sense of whether this woman was his enemy or really his ally as she’d made it seem.
“Because he wanted me dead or gone.”
Basen sighed at having to give her the unfortunate news. “Sanya, there are a lot more people than Yeso who want that.”
“I know.”
“Do you plan to kill them all?”
“Of course not.”
She didn’t seem to want to say more.
“What will you do now?” she asked. “The path back through the Fjallejon Mountains isn’t safe for you.”
“And why is it safe for you? Who do my enemies think you are?”
“A Takary.”
Basen paused. “God’s mercy, you’re serious.”
“Ulric has put his trust in me and given me this disguise. He told people I came with him from Greenedge and cannot speak, nor can I show my face because of a fire that made me hideous.”
It seemed absurd until he remembered she’d tricked everyone at the Academy without a disguise, even Basen, who had grown up with her.
“What will you do with his trust?” Basen asked, even less sure now if she was his ally.
“I will kill Tauwin.”
Her quick answer made it clear this had been her plan for some time. But she was either lying to him or lying to herself.
“He would’ve been dead already if that’s really what you want.”
Her head jerked as if insulted, her hair falling over half her face. “It’s not that easy. There’s been no opportunity.”
“So create your own.”
Silence came upon them.
She brushed her hair away. If she wasn’t such a monster, she might’ve been beautiful. Her face drew the eye, her surprisingly gentle features put together nicely. She did not look at all like the easily angered young woman he remembered who always wore a scowl.
He realized she must’ve spent years practicing to become this other woman, as it was not in her nature. So much work she’d put into changing herself, just to choose such a terrible path in life. What a waste.
He wondered if she would try to take his akorell stone. He wasn’t sure he and Vithos could kill her if necessary. She was quick, after all, and could get to her weapon in the time it took Basen to cast a single fireball. It would all depend on Vithos, whether his psyche was strong enough to slow her down. If she broke the bastial energy in the air, she couldn’t use the weapon, and Basen knew he could defeat her in a brawl, as neither of them had a sword.
Should he attack? What would Effie say if she knew he’d let Sanya live?
But fighting her was the last thing he wanted right now. Even if she deserved it, he couldn’t bring himself to kill someone who’d just saved his life. Her time will come later, he told himself. Even she seems to know that.
“You don’t have to worry about your precious stone,” she said. “I don’t need it.”
“When did you become able to pick up on thoughts?” And what else did you find out just now?
“I can only feel your emotion—your fear of losing something. It has to be the akorell stone. I’ve been able to read feelings for years. I almost couldn’t take it in the castle.” Her voice quieted. “Everyone despised me. I couldn’t help who I was, so all I could do was hate them in return.”
Basen felt a pang of guilt. He had been part of the problem, not the solution. He remembered how his mother had wanted so desperately to help Sanya, while the thought had never crossed Basen’s mind.
“I still don’t understand why you helped me.” It was his last attempt at deciphering whether this was an ally or enemy in front of him, as he still didn’t know what to do about her.
She bit down on her lip as she looked at the black grass around her weapon.
“I don’t know.”
“Everyone has to choose a side in this war,” Basen informed her. “You’d better make your decision quick, or it’ll be made for you.”
Sanya paused as if thinking, but she said nothing. She retrieved her weapon and set off without a goodbye. Basen watched her for a while, still unsure of his thoughts about her.
She stopped and looked back. “Basen.”
“What?”
“Tauwin likes to watch the battles from the top of Kyrro’s castle.”
They stared at each other in silence.
“Thank you,” Basen said.
Sanya left without another word.
CHAPTER TWENTY
After some consideration, Basen and Vithos realized their best route back to the Academy would take them to a place Basen had promised he would never return. Tenred castle. It seemed safer than the other two options. One was to go through the Fjallejon Pathway, which was likely to get Basen shot from above if he wasn’t killed by Yeso’s Elves going the opposite way. The second was to head north, like those Elves, to Regash Forest, where Basen could make a portal.
But that was also where he’d likely run into Fatholl again, as the Elves and Krepps would be there for a while, building. No doubt the Elves would be happy to take a moment out of their busy day to kill him.
Basen and Vithos needed to wait until the cover of night and for the akorell stone to charge, not that they minded. They each had a bit of coin they used to purchase a meal and a bath in the city of Tenred leading up to the castle.
With a few hours to spar
e before night, Basen spent it charging the stone in remote alleys of the city while chatting with Vithos. The swelling of his arm had gone down enough so it wasn’t noticeable, and his mood couldn’t have been better. He had no more obligations to scary psychic Elves. His mother and father were both safe. Basen felt as though he’d been given a second chance at life, and he liked how this one was shaping up.
He wasn’t sure what he could say to Alabell, but she needed to know the strength she’d given him. Thoughts and emotions were more powerful than he’d realized. He longed to see her and kiss her, to tell her how he felt about her.
“Good trip,” Vithos said after smiling in silence for a while, his hands on his hips. He looked pleased by his thoughts as he watched the sunset sky grow ever darker.
“Good trip,” Basen agreed. He touched his bandaged arm and found it to be healing quicker each moment, though he might have a long scar to remind him Fatholl was alive and probably wishing Basen wasn’t.
Eventually the akorell stone was ready. It glowed so bright, Basen had to purchase a satchel so its light wouldn’t give them away as they snuck into the castle through the exposed hole among the rubble. He wondered why he was not at all worried about being caught as they headed there, and soon he realized why. He felt a new power within himself. Not an ability, exactly, but confidence he could handle whatever dared to put itself in his way. His plan to kill Yeso had worked, despite flaws and surprises. That giant on the mountain, with his battle axe…Basen would never forget him.
But the most difficult challenge he’d faced was Fatholl. Basen wasn’t sure he would’ve made it out of Corin Forest without Sanya’s help. Should I tell anyone what she did for me?
It looked as if stonemasons had been working on the corner of the castle, as stones cut to replace the damage in the walls were lying around the openings. Basen and Vithos had to shove a few out of the way to fit through, but soon they were walking down the quiet castle halls and headed for the kitchen.
They passed a couple people using a candle to light their path, and then a guard, but no one paid any attention. Basen kept his wand up, the light making it hard for others to make out his face or Vithos’ Elvish ears. Soon they were in the kitchen, and Vithos went straight for the pantry where he stole some bread and cheese for the two of them, because why not?
