"My pets are hungry." Erravane reverted to human form as she spoke, her voice losing its otherworldly hue. "Do they feast on a boy or one of you? The decision is yours, but do not take too long to decide." There was anger on her face, mirrored in her eyes. She walked in a wide circle around Valam, staring down at him.
"Which will talk?" Erravane asked, pointing her finger at each of the three in turn.
Valam, Emel and Adrina were silent.
"Which will die?" Erravane asked. When no answer was forthcoming, Erravane said, "If you do not choose, then I will choose." With a lightning fast snap of her wrists, Erravane wrapped her hands around Adrina's throat. "I choose the princess."
Adrina recoiled, the hands tensed around her throat until it seemed she could not breathe. Terrified, Adrina stared wildly at Erravane. Beside her Valam and Emel attempted to gain to their feet, but one of the Wolmerrelle had likewise leapt upon Emel.
"Why do you care so about a boy?" Adrina asked, her words coming out through a strained gasp. "Vilmos is long gone."
"His name," Erravane said sinisterly. "Thank you. Now, where did he go?"
"Home for all we know," Adrina said.
Erravane tightened her grip on Adrina's throat. Her long, sharp fingernails pierced the skin and drew blood. "That is not the answer I want. I tire of this, and I too hunger for a feast."
Straining ineffectively to raise his chest under the weight of the Wolmerrelle, Emel craned his head upward. "Let Adrina go! I will die in her stead."
Erravane started to laugh, a deep demented cackle. "So noble, so very noble. What about you Prince of the North? Would you die for her too?"
Valam said, "Let them both go and I will do whatever it is you ask."
"Is that a promise?" Erravane asked.
"Stop!" shouted a voice vaguely familiar to Adrina. "You do not know what it is you do. Make no promises to her kind." Xith emerged from the shadows and stood with his hands extended before Erravane.
"Watcher," Erravane said, no surprise in her voice. "Age takes your stealth. You clomp around like a Man. I wondered what it would take to make you reveal yourself, and now I know."
"This is no game. What is occurring is of no concern to you." Xith's eyes glowed as he regarded Adrina momentarily. Adrina saw strange emotions on his face and there was a quality in his voice that escaped her ears. "Return to Ril Akh Arr and Under-Earth."
Erravane hissed, then attacked Xith. She knocked him down and stood over him. Xith made no move to defend himself.
"Attempt your guile of Voice on me again," Erravane said, "and I will kill you."
"Then kill me, Erravane, I grow weary."
Erravane hissed again and released Xith's throat. "You sicken me. All of you sicken me. So willing to die. So willing to sacrifice. Is the will to survive in any of you?"
Erravane cocked her head as if listening to the wind. "You are too late Watcher. The hunt is joined. Oh, they are joyous!"
"Vilmos did not kill Rake. It was I who took his head."
Erravane laughed again, the same sickly cackle. "I know, which is why I will enjoy their feast all the more."
Xith regarded Erravane for a time, then said, "Return to your forests. Nothing that happens here concerns your kind. You tamper with forces you do not understand."
"I will leave in good time, once I have what I came for."
"And what is that?" Xith asked.
Adrina shouted, "Prince William!"
Xith jumped to his feet. "Is that it, Erravane? Your appetite has changed."
"I already have his child in my womb."
Xith laughed. "If you had so precious a cargo you would have returned to Ril Akh Arr… A half-breed child of royal blood no less…" Xith added the Voice at the last, "Let Vilmos go. You do not need him."
Erravane pounced on Xith and slashed his face with her fingernails. "I warned you, Watcher. I will kill the boy now."
As if stung, Xith reeled away from Erravane. "If he kills your pets, what then?"
"He will not," Erravane said quickly.
"What if?" Xith probed, "Would you no longer meddle in affairs that do not concern you?"
Erravane was obviously irritated at the course of the conversation. "Yes," she shot back at Xith.
"Is that a promise?" Xith asked.
"And if the boy dies, what then?"
Xith said simply, "I will surrender to your will."
"I would have you surrender regardless."
"You are far from our realm, farther still from the forest temple of Arr. Attempt a test of wills here and you will lose." Erravane slashed Xith across the face again. Xith held his ground. "If Vilmos survives, you will return to Under-Earth. If he dies, I will do as you bid. I would even help you birth the child if that is your wish."
Erravane's eyes widened greedily. "You would birth an abomination?"
Xith nodded purposefully.
Erravane grinned. "Your faith in a human child will be your undoing."
Quite sure what had awoken him, Vilmos stirred. He had been dreaming of Tabborrath Village but thoughts and dreams all spun away.
His eyes were wide, his mind in shock. From not far off came another long wailing cry, joined by more, which were still distant. He had sudden flashbacks to another time in Vangar Forest. He knew with certainty the Wolmerrelle hunted him.
He cast aside the prince's overtunic. The oversized garment had kept him warm during these past dreary days and chilly nights. Now he needed speed and not warmth.
As he started to flee, he caught a bit of an old memory. Perhaps he could trick the Wolmerrelle just as he knew he could the hounds of Tabborrath's huntmaster. Without delay, he retrieved the tunic. He dragged it along the ground, then scrambled up into a nearby tree and left the tunic there.
He ran then. He had no idea where he ran to, only that he ran away from the howls. The boughs of trees passed as dark blurs around him and as he ran, he imagined that Xith was beside him and that the shaman urged him to race faster and faster.
"They lead us," whispered an old voice in his mind. He nodded in understanding. He veered right instead of left where the unnerving calls sought to lead him.
His race became a race of desperation. He ran to escape, only to escape. On and on he raced.
He used his hands to ward off branches that seemed to reach out to grab him as he passed. He mounted a rise and started down its backside as he found his second wind.
The path muddied at the bottom of the rise. He came to a stream, kneeled briefly to drink of its cool waters and then hurried on. The calls were never far off.
Completely winded, he stopped. Clutching his chest, panting for air, he hunched over. His face, cold despite the perspiration that dripped from his brow, stung where branches had caught his cheeks. He fought to get his breathing under control and bit back the pain of sore muscles.
Gradually the splotches before his eyes cleared and he brought his breathing under control. He straightened up and looked around, noticing then that the forest seemed suddenly too quiet. His face blank and expressionless, he panned his eyes slowly from left to right.
Like slow death closing in upon him, he perceived the purple glow of the canopy overhead, and through a small break between tree boughs, he saw thin streaks of fire lighting a night sky.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement and, perhaps, a flash of white. Suddenly, the voice of the past was in his mind again, "From this lesson stems the basis of your magical shield, the shield that will protect and keep you in dangerous times…"
He conjured the magical shield now, just as he had then. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched a great black blur sweep toward him. A yelp followed as the creature struck the invisible barrier. Still its momentum carried him to the ground with it.
Disoriented, he shook his head and inhaled. The force of the blow had knocked the wind out of him.
For an instant, it was as if he didn't think at all. All his bewildered thoughts stopped, the magical shie
ld fell away, and then the beast howled and struck again.
He struck back with his fists. He clubbed the side of one of the Wolmerrelle's two heads. The creature wheeled back. He crabcrawled backward as fast as he could. Only his back slamming against the trunk of a tree stopped his crazed retreat.
Without Vilmos even realizing what he was doing, a trace of blue-white light danced across his fingertips. The bolt raced outward, and caught the Wolmerrelle full in the torso. Howling madly, it staggered backward.
He pressed his back against the tree trunk, and using his knees, inched up to a standing position. He was terrified and his every thought screamed out to him, "Escape!"
Again magic raced from his hands and struck the howling Wolmerrelle. The smell of singed fur and flesh choked the air. The creature charged, but managed only a single stride before collapsing.
For the longest time he didn't move. He sat wide-eyed, his thoughts still racing, still screaming, "Run! Escape! Get away!" But the Wolmerrelle was no longer moving.
Cautiously, he crept forward. He reached out with his foot and nudged the beast. He jumped back as it convulsed. Afterward it moved no more.
He was elated, tired from his flight and drained from the brief fight. He collapsed to his haunches but was given little time to recover.
A glimmer of movement out of the corner of his vision caught his eye. Suddenly he knew more of the creatures lurked just beyond his view in the shadows. He raised the magical shield. Again, it saved him. Only this time the great beast did not carry him to the ground with it, and this time he maintained the shield.
They came at him then, one by one in a great wave. He struggled to maintain the shield and keep his feet. Magic surged wildly through him as he drew in more and more energy. Consumed by it, he turned wild eyes on the five Wolmerrelle that circled him, waiting to pounce.
Again his thoughts were propelled to the past. In his mind, as he poised for the attack and turned in a tight circle, it was the great black bear that he saw. Reared up on its hind legs, it towered over him, a mountain of black fur and dark eyes.
He was no longer gripped by terror as he stared up at it. The voice in his mind no longer screamed, Run! It was chastising him. "Control, always stay in control," it said.
He fought to gain control of the rampant energies within him. Perhaps sensing a moment of weakness, the Wolmerrelle charged.
His shield held the creatures at bay and the charge served to focus his thoughts. Suddenly he realized something. Xith had traveled through Vangar Forest to reach the clearing beyond his village. He had all but admitted it. He had arrived on horseback and no horse could have descended into the valley from anywhere within many miles of that clearing. That night when Midori had left the camp, she had taken the horse with her, for the animal hadn't been there the next morning.
His own voice rang in his ears, "You weren't expecting hunters and trackers were you? Who were you expecting, shaman?"
"There is no need to trouble over the could-have-beens," returned Xith's voice, and Vilmos was now sure that a bear hadn't mauled and killed the girl from Olex Village. The bear hadn't attacked him during that fateful encounter and it probably wouldn't have. Perhaps it—she—was protecting him. Evident anger in his eyes and on his face, Vilmos turned to face the first of the great two-headed beasts.
"Do what you must…" rang Xith's voice in his ears.
The urge to let the magic flow unchecked through him was suddenly strong. He controlled it and instead channeled that strength carefully to his hands. Bolts of blue-white lightening sprang forth and struck one of the beasts. The creature died.
His magical shield fell as the remaining four attacked and overwhelmed him. White-hot fire shot through his right leg as a pair of powerful jaws clamped down on it. He let out a scream that rang through the forest.
Pain flooded his thoughts; panic took over. Wildly Vilmos lashed out again and again, wielding his magic, punching, even kicking when necessary to fend off the beasts.
Everything became a blur for a time. The beasts came at him singly, in pairs, all at once. He drove them off using every bit of strength he could muster.
One fell, didn't rise; another followed. Two remained. He could barely move his arms. There was a great gash across his chest. He felt cold and numb, the chill of death. He started to run, but as he was nearly exhausted he staggered more than he ran.
After what seemed hours, he found himself with his back to the trunk of one of the great trees of the forest. The last of the great beasts stared him down. He could barely stand now, and only the tree at his back kept him on his feet. Too weary to focus, too weary to find his center, he knew only that the magic was gone now, gone with his rage.
He didn't think it odd that this beast had only one head, though he did take note of it. This Wolmerrelle was smaller than the others, still somehow more powerful. Its eyes, glowing even in the light of the new day, regarded him in an almost human way. Though badly wounded, it dragged its hind legs, howled a tormented wail up at the heavens and then came at him.
In an attempt to flee, he stumbled and fell. The injured leg that had held him while his fervor raged, collapsed under his weight. His face slapped the hard earth first, his hands were too slow to brace against the fall.
With his face pressed against wet earth, muddied with blood surely his own as well as the fallen beasts, he lay where he fell, too drained to move.
A shadow blocked out the daylight filtering in through the forest canopy. He rolled his eyes up to see the Wolmerrelle standing over him. He shielded his face with his arms as it set upon him. The creature latched onto the arm and shook its head wildly.
He groped frantically with his free hand and kicked at the beast's head with his one good leg. His hand found only leaves and dirt, but there was something on the ground just outside his reach. He could feel the edge of it. "Shape your power, use it to your advantage! Concentrate, control, focus!" screamed the voice in his mind. He squeezed his eyes tight, fighting the pain, fighting to concentrate.
He focused on the object just out of his reach. It was the clubbed end of broken branch. He could feel it now vibrating on the ground. It wanted to inch forward into his grasp and then it did. With the branch in his hand, he began bludgeoning the beast.
The weakened Wolmerrelle howled and hissed. Repeatedly, it raked his chest with its forepaws. For an instant as he beat with all his might on the creature's head, he swore he saw a human face—his weary mind and body were surely playing tricks on him. He mustered the strength to deliver a last desperate blow and then dealt it, putting every bit of himself into the blow. The crunching sound of bone and wood followed. The branch broke. The beast collapsed.
Just as suddenly as the attack had come, it was over. Blood covered his face. His hands. His arms. He knew not whether it was his own. He didn't care. He had won.
"I did it," he whispered to the voice in his mind.
"You performed excellently," the voice whispered back.
He managed a smile, and then weak from blood loss and battle, he collapsed.
Chapter Twenty Eight
"If you strike," Xith said, regarding the clawed hand raised to his throat, "know that our arrangement is void. Moreover, if you do not kill me with that single blow, know that I will kill you. Know also that the boy's powers pale in comparison to my own and that my memory is as long as time itself. One day I will return to Under-Earth. It is in your hands whether I make my life's last work the siege of Ril Akh Arr or other matters…"
Deftly Erravane swept back her hand. "This is far from over." She said it evilly. She was hiding something and apparently Xith knew it.
"If you have designs on Prince William, think again. I need him alive," Xith told her.
"So do I," hissed Erravane.
"It is over, Erravane!" Xith grabbed Erravane's throat with a mystical force that Adrina couldn't see but knew was there. Erravane's beasts raced to her aid but crashed against an invisible barrier. Viciously t
hey attacked the unseen wall but couldn't break through.
"Do not dismiss me," hissed Erravane despite the pressure of the phantom's grasp on her throat. A dozen more Wolmerrelle emerged from the shadows and suddenly the woods were full of long wailing cries. "You kill me and you will never leave the forest alive."
Xith pointed his finger at one of Erravane's beasts. He lowered the magic wall for an instant as a line of fire raced from his hand and engulfed the beast.
Adrina gasped. She realized the source of Xith's mysterious powers. "Forbidden magic," she whispered.
Erravane screamed a tortured wail, which matched the dying Wolmerrelle's. Her face twisted and contorted as she sought to change shapes, but no matter what she did, she couldn't break free of the phantom's grasp.
A figure emerged from the shadows. Deep blue eyes looked in Adrina's direction momentarily, and then suddenly the figure was moving with inhuman speed among the pack of Wolmerrelle. "Seth," whispered Adrina. The still figure whose head Adrina held answered, Yes, and there was evident relief in the tone.
Xith matched Seth's blows one for one with stinging magical flames and the Wolmerrelle fell all around them. Eyes bulging, Erravane clawed at the air. Before Emel and Prince Valam could gain their feet and join the fray, she cried out, "Enough, enough. Stop!"
Mid-blow Seth stopped, drew up to his full height and cast a sidelong glance at Erravane. The remaining Wolmerrelle made no move to attack him. Dumbfounded, Emel and Valam looked to Xith.
"It is over," Xith said. "If you leave here alive, Erravane, it will be up to you." Erravane hissed but ceased to struggle against the unseen phantom. Xith turned to Adrina then, "Ease your fears Princess, those creatures cannot break through."
Xith then turned to Seth. "You are bleeding."
It is only a scratch, Seth returned.
"As superficial as that single scratch may seem, it could kill you if not cleaned properly. Untreated, it will fester like nothing you've ever seen." He paused, and then turned back to Adrina, "I must apologize for waiting so long, but I had to be sure—"
Ruin Mist Chronicles Bundle Page 172
