by Chanda Hahn
We’d have been out of here days ago if he let me lead, Pern added. But he fought me every inch.
Behind me, others pulled on the reins, and I heard the horses being redirected. Their hooves scraping against the gravel. Voices raised as men fought to turn the horses.
Hold tight, Damsel warned.
Out of curiosity, I raised the corner of my blindfold and gasped. We were walking off a cliff. I gripped the reins and was about to do the same, but I felt no fear from Pern and Damsel, only confidence.
Even though I was terrified, I turned in my saddle and gave Liam and the men a confident smile before pulling the blindfold back over my eyes and gripping the pommel. My heart jumped into my throat as my mind told me we were going to fall to our death.
I waited and counted down the steps, expecting to plummet. Instead, my weight shifted forward, and I had to lean back as Damsel started down a small incline.
There’s a trail, I said to Damsel in relief.
Of course, there’s a trail. This is the way.
But a few seconds ago, it was a cliff.
No, no cliff. Only path.
I lifted my blindfold and looked back, and all I saw was fog as thick as molasses. I couldn’t even see Liam or the others.
“It’s okay,” I called back through the veil of magic. “There’s a path. It’s just an illusion.” The fog swallowed my voice. Sound didn’t travel as far in the magic mists.
“Tricky,” I said aloud. “No wonder we couldn’t get out.”
No one followed me through the illusion.
Pern, force him through! I yelled, and I heard a neigh.
Seconds later, Pern burst through the mist fighting the bit in his mouth. He danced across the ground and finally settled. A startled Liam looked around in disbelief.
“I’m alive. You’re alive. I saw you plunge to your death,” Liam gasped. “I even heard you scream.”
“No, it’s just an illusion to keep you trapped within the fog. Now we have to get the men through.”
Liam tried to call through the swirling mist, but just like before, the mist deadened his voice. He spurred Pern back through the fog to bring his men to the other side.
See. Brave, Damsel added. But stupid. Pern was the one who had to get him through the mist.
We waited, and it took some coaxing, but soon Devin, Hayes, and others were led through the illusion.
Not far now, Damsel encouraged, leading the way. Her steps surer as she picked up her pace. The other horses followed her stride.
Not far to where? I asked.
You’ll see.
I didn’t like the way it was going, but I put my trust in my mare not to lead me astray.
The fog lessened, and with it, the proverbial tension that had been hanging over me lifted from my shoulders. The path became clearer, and trickles of sunlight beamed through the tops of trees. I’d never been more excited to see the sun’s rays. It brought hope.
My spirits brightened, and so did everyone else’s.
Devin rode by my side, and he used the distraction to test my abilities.
This is stupid. I shouldn’t test her, but I need to know. Can you . . .?
I frowned and gave him a side look. “Of course, I can hear your thoughts. You’re practically shouting at me.”
His grin spread across his face, and his eyes took on an impish look. He pinched his lips and looked at me expectantly.
Guess what number I’m thinking?
I sighed, having played the game with my sisters many times before. “Five.”
Devin’s grin became wider as he switched numbers.
“Thirteen, four hundred and two, now thirty-nine, forty. If you can’t decide, this will get us nowhere.”
“Amazing. Let’s try something else.”
“I’m not a toy.”
“But this is fun, and there’s nothing else to do. I’m bored. One more.”
I shook my head as another image came to mind. It was a large hominid being over ten feet tall, with long gold hair that fell like waves from its entire body. Its eyes were black and beady, like polished stones, with an enormous nose that poked through the fur. It was a very detailed description.
“A basajaun. I’ve only ever read of them. Have you actually encountered one?” I asked, turning in my saddle toward Devin.
He sat frozen upon his horse. His mouth dropped open as a shadow fell over us.
The ground rumbled beneath our feet and Damsel shifted her weight. I felt her own dread as I looked up at the giant basajaun holding an axe that was coming down straight for my head.
“Look out!” Devin yelled.
Damsel was petrified, unable to react to the oncoming blow. My heart stopped for a split second, and I thought it was the end.
An arrow split the sky, shooting past my ear, and sinking into the basajaun’s fist. The axe missed me and Devin, coming between us, sinking into the earth and spooking both our horses back into action. Damsel bolted, unprepared and not the most stable of riders, I fell from her saddle, my shoulder slamming into the ground.
The air knocked from my lungs and I gasped, unable to breathe. Stars flashed in my eyes, and I tried to gather my wits. Seconds later, air returned once more as my body remembered how to breathe.
“Aura, run,” Liam yelled as he reloaded his crossbow.
Each breath was still too painful. The basajaun swung his axe, and I anticipated his strike, rolling to the side. Seconds later, Liam’s crossbow struck the beast in the shoulder.
The basajaun was a guardian of the forest; a gentle giant by nature was enraged. I tried to read his thoughts and auras, but I received confused images and feelings. Flashes of red filled my vision, and I gasped with empathy for pain.
The troops surrounded the basajaun, their swords drawn, shields at the ready as they closed in to kill him.
“No!” I cried. Getting to my feet, cradling my injured shoulder. “Stop. You mustn’t! You don’t understand.”
Hayes and Devin didn’t hear my warning and moved in to attack.
“Fiergo!” I screamed.
A protective circle of fire, greater than any I had conjured before, erupted around the basajaun and myself cutting us off from the troops.
I surprised myself. My desperation must have fueled my magic.
Devin and Hayes retreated. The troops shouted their fear, and Liam’s worry flashed over me. I ignored them all and focused on the pain radiating from the basajaun.
My left arm hung useless at my side. I held my right hand out, pleading with the basajaun.
“I won’t harm you.”
The basajaun cowered before me. In my attempt to protect him from the men, I had surrounded him with his greatest enemy—fire. Terror radiated off him in waves, and he whined.
“I know it’s scary, but I did it to keep us safe.” The axe lay discarded on the ground, and without it, the basajaun didn’t seem as intimidating. He curled in a ball and buried his head under his arm.
“Aura!” Liam cried out. I felt a pressure moving against my magic.
My head snapped toward Liam as he stood on the outside of the flames, his face intense as he tried to use his magic to smoother mine and douse the flames.
How dare he. It showed he didn’t trust my intuition or abilities.
I released the spell, and the fire died down, leaving a circle of scorched earth in its wake. Liam easily crossed the circle, not fearing me or my powers. In his hand, he held a dagger, and he reached for my arm to pull me away.
“Don’t you harm him,” I threatened, standing between them.
“It’s a monster, and it tried to kill you.”
“Not on purpose.” I kneeled by the golden beast and placed my hand on his soft back. The basajaun sat up and looked at me with pain-filled eyes. He didn’t reach for his axe, and only let out a painful moan.
He growled and pulled the arrow out of his shoulder, leaving a bloody trail, and tossed it to the side. I placed my hand on it and closed my eyes,
coaxing magic to the wound, focusing on reknitting the muscle. My hand warmed as his body began healing, all the while drawing the pain into myself. He let out a rumble of appreciation as the pain lessened and the wound closed up. I then focused on the second wound in his fist.
The basajaun kneeled and placed his large head beneath my hand, letting out another moan. He was still in pain. The creature’s hair was thick with many layers and undercoats, littered and snagged with small twigs and leaves.
I made a soothing noise as gently parted the long, matted hair to reveal a large section that was hidden, the skin blackened and infected.
“This doesn’t look right.” I leaned forward and sniffed the infection, getting a scent of sulfur. “The wound was caused by magic.” Immediately, I caught an image sent from the basajaun. An image of Aspen and four others on the edge of his vision. The dark mage sent a great fireball at him, chasing him away from what he guarded.
Liam frowned. “Come Aura, there’s nothing you can do.” He placed his hand on my shoulder and I pushed it off.
“No. I have to help.”
He sighed and kneeled down next to me.
“I can heal it.” My hands glowed, and I focused on healing the burned skin, letting it reknit. My side ached and blistered in sympathy pain. I held back the tears as I also learned what had transpired. “The basajaunak,” I explained as I ran my fingers along the burn, “are the protectors of the forest, and he is protecting it—from us.”
“Us? Why does he have to protect it from us?” Devin snorted, having finally crossed the fire circle to join Liam and me.
“They don’t speak, at least not in a language we understand, but they can communicate.” I sat and listened to the fears and emotions, putting together a story with the images the basajaun showed me. “A dark mage came several weeks ago, and he released something.”
The basajaun nodded. Standing to his full height, he towered over us, and he slipped through the woods, his fur easily blending into the shadows cast by the trees. He stopped and beckoned us.
“I can only assume it was the blight,” I said.
Liam gently touched my shoulder. I winced. “Your shoulder is dislocated.” He reached for my arm, and with a twist and jerk, quickly popped it back into place.
I screamed in pain. “You should have warned me,” I snapped.
Devin cringed and gave an apologetic answer. “No, it’s worse when he gives notice because you tense up. This way was better.”
“Don’t take his side,” I growled, rubbing my shoulder. Though, I was relieved that it felt better.
The basajaun had stopped in the shadows of the trees and waited for us. I looked up and saw the bright sunny sky, but all around us the fog swirled.
“We’re close to the center of the vortex. We should follow him.”
Liam frowned, looking at the large creature. “I’m not one to follow a predator into its own hunting grounds.”
I shook my head. “We’re the predator here. Plus, I think we will find the answers you need.”
Liam turned to his men and made hand motions, and a look silenced any hesitations they had. But not for me. I heard their complaints loud and clear as we stepped into the woods and followed the basajaun. The farther we traveled, the more I noticed the signs of the fae hidden within view.
The mushroom circle, the white stones that left a trail to follow before we came to a humongous monolith of two stones. A long slab precariously balanced across a perpendicular stone, with three claw marks gouged into the piece. The men paused and remarked on the immense strength it would have taken for the beast to lift the boulders.
I smiled and answered their silent questions.
“The bigger the stone, the stronger the protector. It’s a warning for those that want to hurt the fae of the forest.” I pointed to the markings. “Each gouge mark symbolizes the number of basajaunak in this territory.”
“Three?” Hayes spoke up. “Really, why so few? I would have expected more.”
“It’s his family.” I hesitated, reading the basajaun’s thoughts. “Was his family. He is all that’s left and has been alone for many years.”
Instantly, the troops’ emotions changed from fear to relational. Those in our company with family dwelt on their own wives and children. Others related to the protective nature of the silent beast, and his desire to protect those within the forest.
We hadn’t traveled much farther beyond the monolith before the golden beast stopped and made a great whine. He refused to travel further into the village, his aura changing to one of fear.
I slipped past him and looked down into the valley at what was once a thriving haven for fae, but now resembled a mausoleum. The firethorn tree, their source of protection—and home for the smaller sprites and fairies—was split in two, dark scorch marks were still burned into the trunk.
The surrounding hills were once home to gnomes and hobs. All that remained were the shattered and burned doors that hung from hinges. The darkness within—empty like a tomb. A crunch fell beneath my boot as I accidentally crushed a fairy chair made of thistle.
When I looked close enough at the dead trees, I could see the human faces through the burned bark, the last images of the dryads. I clutched my stomach as I tried to shield myself from the pain that was radiating from this place.
I fell to my knees before the firethorn tree. I reached out to touch one of the sharp thorns, at least two inches in diameter. Their prick was deadly to humans, but not to fae. Taking a chance, I ran my finger over the spine and pressed the fleshy pad of my finger onto the thorn, feeling it pierce my skin.
The drop of blood pooled on my fingertip, and seconds later a vision washed over me. My connection to the land was strong as the great firethorn tree shared her memories.
I saw the fae village as it once was many years ago. Fairies flitted about the sky, dancing and weaving among the branches of the willows. A young basajaun was curled up in a glade, and little sprites were busy braiding acorns and twigs into its long hair. His mother wasn’t far off, watching over a small firethorn thicket. Hobs were busy gardening, and one in particular with an overgrown beard was trying to lure a mole out of a den by tying bait to the end of his beard like a fishing line.
A beautiful woman with long pale hair and a crown of flowering thorns walked along a white stone path. Hummingbirds tried to steal strands of her hair and flew alongside like a protective escort. I knew I was seeing Tatiana, Queen of the lesser fae court. When she came to a stream, one hob rushed over and held out a hand to help her cross over a slippery stream before he disappeared back into the woods.
A flaming arrow cut through the air and missed her by inches, embedding in the straw roof of a redcap’s home. Tatiana looked up as the sky became littered with flaming arrows. Her face twisted into one of fear. She turned to run, dodging the onslaught. One pierced her calf, and she cried out as she quickly smothered the flame. The other arrows found their marks, the flames quickly spread from hut to hut, and the fae inside scattered. But not before the golden field of flowers turned red with the uniforms of the Rya soldiers as they stormed through on horseback, striking down anything that moved.
My heart raced as Tatiana ran, her eyes searching the glade, shoving the smaller fae into hiding. The two adult basajaunak ran to attack the soldiers. Their roar in unison caused the nearest horses to rear and drop their riders. The female basandere picked up the fallen rider and tossed him into two other riders. The male—the same one I’d just healed—swung his axe and knocked three soldiers backward into the path of the calvary.
Tatiana limped, her leg bleeding as she stumbled and fell to her knees in front of the great firethorn tree. She waved her hands. The thorns parted to reveal an empty bed of grass. Her face crumpled into grief. Her breathing picked up, she gritted her teeth, and spun to fight. The hobs ran out of their homes armed with hoes and farming equipment, the gnomes grabbed their pickaxes and charged into battle, fearless and determined. But their number
s were few and the king’s army were great.
Tatiana cast a spell. The ground rumbled, but a soldier on horseback ran her down. She fell trying to avoid his horse, and she rolled into a boulder, her head slamming against the stone. Blood pooled behind her head. Her vision swam. She rolled over and tried to crawl away as the soldier dismounted, unsheathing his sword. He approached Tatiana, and I saw the look of murder on the soldier’s face as he raised his sword to strike.
The young basajaun raced from the thicket, his cry less intimidating than his parents, carrying a sword too large for his smaller hands. He stood toe to toe with the soldier and struggled to raise it in defense of Tatiana.
The enemy soldier’s sword arm raised to strike.
I cried out as the vision showed him swing. The blade flashed, and the young basajaun fell to the ground. Tatiana’s mouth opened in a silent scream, and the world went red as fire consumed the vision.
My face was wet with tears, my heart bursting with pain for the basajaun. He lost his family to the attack.
“What did this?” Hayes murmured.
“Not what,” I said sadly, wiping the tears from my eyes and patting the trunk of the dead firethorn tree, silently thanking them for the memories. “Who.”
Liam moved, his royal Rya cloak fluttered. He looked exactly like the men in my vision. I felt sick.
“The king’s army.”
Liam’s jaw tensed. “You’re wrong. The king wouldn’t have sent the troops to destroy a fae village.”
“This was over twenty years ago.” I stilled and listened to the firethorn. “A dark sorcerer attacked the basajaun and released the blight only recently.”
I stood up and walked around the destroyed village. The spindle in my pocket thrummed again. I pulled it out and laid it on my palm, watching it turn in my hand like a compass. I followed as it led me to the far side of the burned-out village until I came to a never tree. The never tree’s roots were giant tangles that stretched fifteen feet into the air and then sunk below the surface. They were considered hallowed ground. Approaching the tree, I saw an entrance between the roots, which led deep into the earth. The stone steps were broken and destroyed, and the earth all around the tree had been disturbed.
