Zollin lifted the two men behind him into the air with a simple levitation spell, and send them flying toward two of their comrades that were in front of him. It was growing harder and harder not to simply kill the men. Zollin couldn’t remember feeling the urge to destroy so strongly since he’d learned to insulate his magic, but now his anger and grief were flooding into his power, churning it like river rapids and pulling him toward a place of darkness he knew he didn’t want to go.
He clamped down on the magic, forcing his mind to concentrate on his own hands, which were balled into fists and crackling with so much magical energy that his reins had crumbled into ashes where he’d been holding them.
Fortunately, the soldiers were now scrambling away, pulling their comrades off the road as quickly as possible. As soon as Zollin regained control of himself he leaned down and snatched the shortened reins, then urged his horse into a gallop. His magic was still churning, but the wind whipping through his hair and the need to use the muscles in his legs, stomach, and back to stay on his horse as it ran helped sooth his emotions. He could hear Eustice right behind him. Although the mute servant was no horseman, his mount followed Zollin’s and Eustice managed to hang on to the saddle horn.
Mansel was further back, riding easily while ensuring that no one else came at them from the rear. Once the horses had run for a while, Zollin reined his mount in and then climbed down out of the saddle. He stretched his tired muscles as he waited for Mansel to catch up.
“I want to walk for a while,” he said.
Zollin didn’t wait for a reply, but turned and started leading his horse down the muddy path. Thunder rumbled across the sky and soon rain was falling in fat drops that pelted Zollin and his companions. Mansel and Eustice gave Zollin space, leading their own horses through the mud several paces behind him.
Zollin didn’t like the fact that he had almost lost control, but he knew that he had every reason to struggle. He felt more alone than ever before in his life. Brianna was gone and it wasn’t likely that he would ever find out what happened to her. She had changed before his very eyes, from a young woman to a powerful, magical being that he didn’t fully understand. She had been given a gemstone by dwarves that had somehow unlocked a part of Brianna no one knew existed. She looked the same, but her ability to control fire was dumbfounding, even to Zollin. And then, when the dragon was finally at their mercy, she had healed the beast. There was nothing Zollin could do to stop her, and when the dragon was well enough, it had taken her and fled.
Zollin had given chase, but as had happened so often in the last year, events around him drew him away from his purpose. The armies from Osla and Felxis, led by the master of the Torr, had invaded Yelsia. As much as he had wanted to track down the dragon and find Brianna, he couldn’t turn his back on an invasion. And then, the dragon had appeared—alone—spewing fire onto the walls of Orrock. Zollin had managed to drive the beast away, but his hopes of finding Brianna were shattered. He couldn’t imagine that she had survived, even though he wanted desperately to believe it. Still, it was obvious that Brianna had a connection to the dragon, and he had hoped that she might somehow manage to survive. But seeing the dragon doing Offendorl’s bidding in the war crushed that hope. If the dragon was now serving the master of the Torr, Zollin was certain that his love was dead.
Added to his personal grief for Brianna was the fact that Kelvich was gone too. Mansel had killed Zollin’s mentor while under the spell of the witch in Lodenhime. It was almost too much to think about—in fact, his mind kept rejecting the facts. He hadn’t seen Kelvich’s body, and while Mansel had confessed to the murder, it still didn’t seem possible. Zollin didn’t blame Mansel for the crime, but he had to admit that he saw the young warrior differently. So much had changed about Mansel—he was quieter, less volatile somehow—but Zollin missed the days when they had laughed and talked together, when the future seemed bright and hopeful despite the fact that they were being chased by wizards and armies.
Their friendship had not been easy at the start. Mansel had been his father’s second apprentice, and the young warrior’s obvious talent with his hands made Zollin’s ineptitude at his father’s trade all the more obvious. Zollin had spent years jealously despising Mansel, but when they had been forced to flee their small village, Mansel had refused to be left behind. He had proven himself a faithful friend and talented fighter, but that didn’t mean that Mansel didn’t have his own problems. His drinking had landed him in trouble more than once, and his friendship with Brianna had sparked new fires of jealously in Zollin’s heart. Now, his friend and fellow adventurer seemed just as dark and moody as Zollin, and although he was glad that Mansel didn’t try to cheer him up, there were times when he longed for happier times.
They walked until dark and by chance came upon a small village with an inn. They took rooms and enjoyed a hot meal. They were soaked and cold, so the innkeeper prepared mulled wine. Eustice had trouble being served, so Zollin allowed him to see to their clothes and turned in early for the night.
Mansel drank by the fire long after Zollin had gone to bed. His dreams were often haunted by images of things he’d done under the spell of Gwendolyn, the witch. His guilt for those murderous actions plagued him, and not even strong wine could dull the pain. He longed to be back in the small cottage by the sea. He felt that if anyone could ease his pain, it would be Nycoll, the widow who had nursed him back to health. She was a quiet woman, one who had dealt with her own share of pain and loss. Mansel knew he couldn’t turn his back on Zollin, not when he had so much to make up for, but his heart was with Nycoll, far away. He knew that he would not be happy until he was with her again.
The next morning dawned brighter than the days before. The sky was still cloudy, but the sun was making a valiant effort to break through. Zollin found his clothes dried and laid out for him when he woke up. He dressed and went downstairs, where Eustice was waiting. The mute servant had already eaten and, after seeing that Zollin was being cared for, went to ready their horses.
Mansel came into the common room halfway through Zollin’s breakfast. “You hungry?” Zollin asked.
“No,” Mansel said darkly. His eyes were bloodshot and skin seemed pale.
“You sick?” Zollin asked.
Mansel nodded but didn’t elaborate. He refused breakfast, but drank a little ale and took a sack of provisions from the innkeeper’s wife. They set out soon after and rode hard all through the day, even opting to walk their horses late into the night.
Even traveling at a brutal pace, it took them a week to reach the coastal town of Lorye. They had no more trouble on the road, but they were exhausted just the same. It was evening when they arrived, and Eustice saw to their horses while Mansel and Zollin booked passage on a ship traveling south.
They bought supplies in the market and then settled onto the ship for the night. It was a big vessel, with three masts and more sailors than the population of many of the small towns they had passed through. They had to settle for one cabin for the three of them. The cabin had two bunks and one hammock, along with a small table and three stools. Even in port, the ship, which lay at anchor a short boat ride from the shore, rocked and swayed so that Mansel was soon seasick. Zollin used his magic to isolate the cause of his own queasiness and was surprised to find that there was fluid in tiny canals deep inside his ears that seemed to be causing his distress. He used magic to calm down the movement of fluid and immediately felt better.
He was about to help Mansel, who was already much more ill than either Zollin or Eustice, but then he hesitated. For a brief moment the thought of letting Mansel suffer seemed appropriate. His friend had murdered Kelvich, after all, and had tried to kill Zollin’s father. In fact, Mansel would have succeeded if Zollin hadn’t found his father and been able to heal him using magic. Then Zollin shook the hesitation away. He hadn’t fully forgiven Mansel, but he also understood that Mansel wasn’t himself when he had committed the heinous crimes, and keeping his friend sick wo
uldn’t make their journey any more enjoyable.
He let his magic flow into Mansel without saying anything. The motion of the fluid in Mansel’s inner ear was almost violent. Zollin concentrated on settling the fluid down. It took several minutes, but soon Mansel appeared to feel better. He went immediately to his bunk and went to sleep.
“It doesn’t seem that sea travel suits our friend,” Zollin said to Eustice, who was swaying in the hammock.
Eustice nodded. The former servant of the Torr was almost like a child in his energy and enthusiasm to help Zollin. He had a perpetual smile on his face and was always quick to help. He accepted the hammock immediately, even though Zollin had proposed that they take turns sleeping on the swaying canvass.
“Are you feeling ill?” Zollin asked.
Eustice waved his hand as if to say, “Not really.”
“You’re stronger than I am then,” Zollin said. “I was afraid I was going to lose my lunch before long.”
Eustice smiled and pointed at their rations, which were stored in a sea chest. He made the gesture that Zollin had come to recognize to mean cooking.
“No, I don’t think I want much tonight. Just some bread and olive oil. Maybe a little wine to help me sleep.”
Eustice nodded and Zollin stepped out of the cabin and took a walk around the deck. The ship was loaded with cargo, and most of the sailors were spending their last few hours on shore. There were only a few men on watch. One officer stood near the big, round wheel that was used to steer the ship. A few moved around in the ropes that stretched from the ship rails to the towering masts. Zollin could see the sails neatly bundled and tied to the crossbeams of the masts. He leaned against the ship rail and looked down into the water. The sun had set and the water was dark below him. Lights from the city reflected on the surface, but Zollin occasionally saw the darkness that indicated deep water.
He let his magic flow into the water. He had learned through the winter in Kelvich’s small cabin how to let his magic touch the world around him. He would go out at night to hunt, standing still in almost complete darkness and learning to see with his magic, which was often much more sensitive than his eyes alone.
The magic plunged beneath the surface and began to drift down. At first, Zollin was just curious how deep the water was, but he was soon fascinated with the amount of life he found in the watery depths. There were sedate creatures fixed to the hull of the ship. Schools of fish swam together with speed and agility that would have made flocks of birds envious. The sandy seafloor was not too far below the surface—Zollin guessed a tall tree’s leafy peak would rise above the waves. There were larger creatures too, some moving slowly, innocently, while others were obviously hunting.
Zollin didn’t disturb the sea life. He stood, silent and still, leaning against the ship’s railing, completely absorbed by the world under the waves. Then, suddenly, the fish swam away, leaving the waters around the ship empty except for the waving flora and the tiny sea creatures that merely floated through the water, too small to be seen. Zollin was puzzling over the strange turn of events when an old and evil presence suddenly came over the young wizard. He felt the cold relish of death, almost as if he could smell the sickly sweet odor of rotting flesh. Zollin suddenly felt very cold, and fear began to run a jagged claw down his spine. Goose bumps rose up on his arms and the hair on the back of his neck stood out.
Then Zollin felt the monster enter his magic. It was a large creature, swimming with powerful but precise movements. Its body was long and thick, as long as the massive ship Zollin was standing on. From the long, tube-like body came over a dozen tentacles. To Zollin they seemed like giant snakes, each moving independently. On the massive body were two large, black eyes, and in the middle of the sprouting tentacles a large maw with thick pincers instead of teeth.
“Captain!” Zollin shouted, running along the dark deck. “Captain!”
“What is it?” said the officer on watch. “The captain is in his cabin and doesn’t wish to be disturbed.”
“Some kind of sea creature,” Zollin said. “It’s huge. It’s swimming toward the ship right now.”
“I believe you’ve heard one too many stories, sir,” said the officer. “There’s no creature in the ocean that would bother this ship.”
Just then there was blow to the side of the ship that echoed through the hull and reverberated up onto the deck.
“What was that?” Zollin asked.
The officer didn’t respond. He stood silent, almost frozen with fear, unsure what to make of the sound. Suddenly a huge tentacle shot up out of the water. It was too dark to make out the writhing appendage, but seawater cascaded off of it, splashing back down into the ocean. Zollin watched as the sailor’s eyes opened wide in terror, and then the tentacle smashed down onto the deck with a crash. The ship rail splintered and the other sailors began to shout in fear. The entire ship rocked under the blow before six more tentacles rose up out of the water.
Chapter 2
“Mansel!” Zollin shouted, throwing up a quick magical shield above him and the ship’s officer.
The tentacles fell hard on the ship, like massive trees falling in the forest. The wooden railing on the seaward side of the ship was destroyed and the smaller mast near the front of the ship was snapped in two. Several of the crossbeams were also broken so that the deck of the ship became a jumble of splintered wood, ripped canvas sails, and rope. Several of the sailors on watch had been injured, but even though one of the tentacles had fallen on them, Zollin and the officer were unharmed.
Zollin felt his magic shooting through him as he struggled to hold up the massive limb. It rolled clumsily and Zollin guessed that its massive weight out of the water made it difficult to control. He pushed the frightened officer back toward the raised platform where the captain’s cabin was located.
“Move!” Zollin screamed. “Get away from that thing.”
The door to the captain’s cabin burst open and a short man with a long, thick beard and an equally thick belly came storming out.
“What in the name of Neptune is going on out…” His voice trailed off as he saw the tentacles that had smashed into the ship rise back up in the air.
“Take cover!” Zollin shouted, pushing the captain and his officer back into the cabin just as the tentacle dropped again, this time splintering the deck.
He turned and unleashed a gout of molten energy that struck the tentacle in a sizzling, steaming spray. The tentacle swung away from Zollin and wrapped around the ship’s mast. Zollin didn’t wait for instructions. He ran forward and began blasting the tentacles with bolts of white-hot magical energy. His power was roaring like a fire inside him, but his mind was reeling. The sea creature was even larger than the black dragon he’d fought, and although most of it’s body was in the water, the monster’s tentacles were like separate enemies, each one a grave menace.
There was a loud crack, like the pop of a lightning strike, as the mast broke. Zollin was attacking the beast, but even more tentacles were rising up out of the water.
“What the hell is that?” Mansel shouted as he ran up beside Zollin.
“Sea monster,” Zollin said matter-of-factly.
“What should I do?” the young warrior asked.
“Beats me,” Zollin shouted. “I think our best bet is to get out of here.”
“You mean swim for it?” Mansel asked in an incredulous voice.
“No way,” Zollin said. “Get Eustice and I’ll try to levitate you back to shore.”
“That’s a long way, Zollin.”
“I know it, but would you rather stay here?”
Mansel only hesitated for a second, then ran toward their small cabin. He came back pulling Eustice along. The mute servant was so scared he was shaking. Zollin didn’t wait—his magic felt like an inferno and he didn’t want to exhaust himself before he got his friends to safety. He raised a hand and sent them flying back over the water. It took all his concentration to avoid the tentacles and keep his
friends in the air, but finally they were over the docks and he lowered them slowly to the ground. Then the exertion hit him all at once. His legs felt weak and his stomach queasy. He was reminded of how he’d felt as a boy trying to hold a heavy piece of wood for his father, sometimes for several minutes. When he’d finally been able to let go, his body had ached at the effort and his muscles felt stiff and clumsy. He staggered back to the landward side rail and sagged against it.
Then a new tentacle smashed into the far side of the ship, rocking the entire vessel, and before he knew what was happening, it tossed Zollin overboard. He hit the water with barely any air in his lungs. He instinctively clawed his way to the surface and gasped for air. The water was cold and his body felt weak, but more than anything he felt completely exposed in the water, and on the verge of panic. His magic was raging, fed by his emotions into a furnace of heat and power. He was just about to levitate himself out of the water when he felt something wrap around his ankle. He had time for one quick breath, then was jerked down into the black depths.
His mind was in full panic now, but his magic was flowing. Even though his eyes were closed and there wasn’t enough light for him to see if they had been open, he was completely aware of his surroundings due to his magic. He sensed the sea monster eating one of the unlucky sailors who had been knocked into the water before Zollin. He could also sense the creature’s beastly delight. The monster was feeding not just on the sailor—which it had devoured in the huge, beak-like maw—but on the chaos all around its huge tubular body. There were smaller tentacles in the water, which moved faster and with more agility. One of these wrapped around Zollin’s waist and began pulling him toward the creature’s mouth.
Five Kingdoms: Book 05 - Fierce Loyalty Page 2
